With word the shuttle was en route to their location, the trio along with Guardian logged out of Athena’s virtual reality, though the AI assured them she would be in contact if there were further developments. As the tendrils disconnected and receded while their “thrones” gently lowered them back to the ground, Genvass took special care to protect his broken arm, only to discover he was no longer in pain. Cautiously probing the damaged limb before looking up in amazement, he gaped at the two women.

“My arm,” he said in disbelief, “it’s no longer broken.”

“Nanotech,” Samara nodded. “You get used to it.”

Rúna considered that for a moment. “That could come in handy,” she mused.

“Oh, it does,” the Protean agreed, “though wait until you get half your head blown off. First time was a hell of a shock.”

“The first time?” Rúna blinked.

Samara snorted. “You think that’s bad? Just pray you don’t spend a couple of years as a slab of beef jerky. At least I was unconscious for most of it, but the end part…” She barely repressed a shudder.

Genvass observed the byplay with growing confusion, before finally speaking up. “Umm… what’s going on?”

“Oh, right,” the Valkyrie nodded. “You missed it.”

“Missed what?” he said, bewildered.

Samara looked away, before jerking her head toward Rúna. “She’s got the box now,” she explained, “not me.”

The ambassador shook his head, struggling to play catch up. “Wait, the box? You mean the Repository?”

“Yeah,” Rúna shrugged. “Long story.”

Scanning the space above them and not spotting the shuttle, he cocked his head and regarded the Valkyrie. “We appear to have some time yet, and I think I need to hear this.”

Rúna froze, struggling with her response, when finally she just shook her head. “Guardian, you want to take that one?” A moment later her entire demeanor shifted, a permutation Genvass recognized all too well.

“Samara’s long exposure to the Repository, coupled with the manner in which she was forced to utilize it, greatly taxed her physiology,” Guardian explained. “We were forced to sever the connection between us in an attempt to save her, but unfortunately she had already suffered damage to her genome. Rúna recognized Samara was in crisis, choosing to link with the Repository in order to preserve her life.”

Genvass slowly nodded. It all made sense. “Samara, how are you dealing with all of this?” he asked her.

The Protean just grimaced. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she said at last.

The ambassador held up his hands. “Fair enough. I won’t pry.” Instead, he returned his attention to Rúna. “I assume then that you’ll be the one performing impossible feats as needed?”

“I guess so,” she shrugged again. “Guardian’s been at this for a long time now. He seems to know what he’s doing.” Something caught her attention as she cast her gaze skyward. “Shuttle’s inbound,” she reported.

Genvass looked up and spotted the small craft on final approach. It touched down smoothly, the airlock cycling open while the engines idled. The three-person team stepped aboard, making their way forward until they located the shuttle’s cabin. Rúna and Samara took seats at the controls while he made himself comfortable nearby, out of the way, as the main viewer flickered to life.

“Welcome aboard,” Ess Peon informed them, while Alphad and Raven looked on. “I assume you’d like to take over as pilot?”

“You assume correctly,” Rúna answered. “Guardian’s got a guy already warming up in the wings to take the reins.”

“Erhair Dresh,” Samara confirmed. “One hell of a pilot.”

“Yeah, him,” the Valkyrie agreed. “Odds are good that moon is defended, and since this bucket doesn’t have weapons, that means some fancy flying on our part.”

“I can’t fault your logic,” Genvass agreed, buckling himself in. “At your convenience.”

“Copy that,” she nodded, as once more that same subtle shift washed over her. Her hands moved expertly over the controls as the shuttle lifted off the platform, making a heading for the system’s fifth planet. Samara stood by as a backup, but thus far, her services were not required.

The ambassador turned his attention to the monitor. “How are things looking with the Grand Alliance?” he asked the Avatars.

“Honestly? I think ‘scared shitless’ wouldn’t be too far off the mark,” Ess explained. “They knew they’d suffer losses once they engaged, but were counting on their superior numbers to turn the tide in their favor. The Yīqún were a rude awakening, and after Athena overloaded their systems taking them out, I imagine they’re reevaluating a few things.” She chuckled at that. “But until they can get their ships operational again, they’re sitting ducks, and they know it. They’re running a bluff to keep us from attacking them, and they know we know, but given the lousy hand they currently hold, they have little choice.”

“They’re not the only ones running a bluff,” Genvass sighed.

The Avatar gave him an odd look. “What do you mean?”

“I’m afraid Athena overloaded the array when she took out the drones,” he explained. “Repairs are already underway, but the weapon itself won’t be operational for at least two weeks. Until then, there is absolutely nothing stopping the Grand Alliance from invading New Terran space.”

Alphad gave out a low whistle. “If your good friend the Paygan were to discover that little nugget of information, it might tempt him into actions we wouldn’t much care for.”

“I know,” Genvass said unhappily. “Despite being the closest thing we have to an ally in the Grand Alliance, he has people he answers to. His emperor, if no one else, who is under enormous pressure at the moment to deliver New Terra to the galaxy on a silver platter.”

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

“So, what’s the plan here?” Ess Peon asked.

“Keep pretending all is well, cross our fingers, and pray,” he grimaced.

Raven watched the byplay with interest before chiming in. “Are all Terran plans this desperate?” she asked them.

Her companion regarded her with no small amount of amusement. “Remind me again how many of our plans weren’t risky as hell?” he grinned.

The AI just shook her head. “Never mind. I withdraw the question.”

Rúna glanced back over her shoulder. “We are on final approach to the Kheil’Hayam shipyards,” she reported, in that weirdly stilted voice that belonged to someone else. “Scans indicate that local defense batteries are active.”

“Tell me you’ve got a plan, Erhair old buddy,” Samara snorted.

“Of course,” the Precursor pilot agreed. “I will swing wide of the planetoid and approach from the far side, descending rapidly to avoid their detection grid. I will then advance upon the shipyards through contour flight, which should allow us to avoid discovery until we are within striking range of the target. Once on station, Cherdor Hosk will assume control of the host and infiltrate the shipyard by stealth.”

Genvass looked askance at Samara. “Translation, please?”

“It means make sure you’re buckled in tight and keep the sick bag handy,” she grinned.

“Lovely,” he sighed, as he moved to do just that.

The Protean laughed, before returning her attention to the Precursor inhabiting Rúna’s body. “I’m coming with Hosk when you hit the shipyard,” she informed them.

The ancient pilot raised an eyebrow. “I would advise against such action,” they replied. “Without the protection our link provides, you would be vulnerable.”

“I was running ops a lot more dangerous than this before I ever hooked up with you guys,” she reminded them, “and right now, you need all the help you can get.”

Erhair Dresh inclined their… well, Rúna’s… head. “As you wish,” they replied, before returning their attention to flying the shuttle.

“Are you sure that’s wise?” Genvass asked her. “If you get shot now, nothing will save you. You’ll just be dead.”

“I’m not just going to sit here twiddling my thumbs while a mission this important takes place,” she said bluntly. “I’m here, I’m needed, and I’m going. End of discussion.”

There was nothing he could add to that. It wasn’t as if he could stop her, after all. Genvass started to say as much when the bottom dropped out of his stomach. He gripped the armrests tightly as Rúna’s cognate nosed the shuttle over and sent it into a steep dive, holding on for dear life as they fell like a meteor towards the small moon.

Somehow, he managed to keep his stomach contents contained, though, after their death-defying journey to Athena’s platform, you’d think he’d be used to it. He was still reviewing his life choices when Erhair Dresh pulled out of the dive, the extra g-forces pushing him back into his chair, before settling on a more or less horizontal flight path. “Thank Mother Terra that’s over,” he sighed.

Samara began cackling with maniacal glee. In retrospect, he should have recognized that for the ill omen it was.

The next half hour was a blur, as Genvass soon found himself an unwitting participant of the most terrifying amusement ride ever devised. When the cognate had told them they would perform a “contour flight” in order to approach the objective, he hadn’t grasped what the phrase actually meant.

Now he did. It was a most unwelcome realization.

Erhair Dresh was expertly piloting the shuttle a few dozen meters above the moon’s surface, which was fine in and of itself. The truly horrifying part was that he was constantly adjusting their altitude in order to maintain the same distance above the surface, climbing up over every hill and rapidly descending downward with every ravine. Up, and down. Up, and down. Over and over again, in quick succession.

This time, he lost his battle with his lunch. Repeatedly.

A very pale and profusely sweating Dharmist all but whimpered in relief as the shuttle finally touched down, just out of sight of the shipyards. Everyone politely ignored the now full sick bag as Samara and Rúna unstrapped and started making their way aft, toward the airlock. The Valkyrie paused for a moment, shifting once more as she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“This shouldn’t take long,” she told him. “Just sit tight and wait for our signal.” She glanced up at the monitor. “If this goes south,” she told the Avatars, “get your asses out of here pronto.”

“We will,” Alphad assured her. “Stay safe.”

“Be careful, both of you,” Genvass chimed in.

“Count on it,” Samara grinned, as the pair quickly geared up before exiting the shuttle.

The ambassador looked up at the screen. “Alphad, can you give me a visual of the exterior?” he asked.

“Sure, one sec,” he said, as a shot of the moon’s surface appeared on the display. He could just barely pick out the two women making their way across the harsh terrain.

“They’ll be fine,” the Avatar assured him. “They’re both old hands at this.”

“I know,” he nodded, though his thoughts were a far cry from his calm assurance.

Holy Mother Terra, I beg you to watch over them, he prayed, with all his might.

----------------------------------------

Rúna, with the cognate Cherdor Hosk in the driver’s seat, immediately took point as the pair set out, with Samara close on her heels. The airless moon reminded them both of Luna, covered with both jagged basalt outcroppings and layers of fine dust. The New Terran sun was on the planet’s farside, leaving them both in shadow as they made their way toward the shipyards. The duo made good time, and in less than an hour, found themselves at the thick walls of the ancient base, within a shallow impact crater.

“How do we get inside?” Samara asked.

The primeval warrior observed the barrier with a practiced eye. “I will relinquish control to Artificer Dillosh,” he informed her, “in order to gain access to the station.”

There was a momentary pause as Hosk passed control to the engineer, before breaking out a toolkit liberated from the shuttle’s emergency stores. Opening up a maintenance panel beside one of the entrances, he immediately went to work, infiltrating the base’s security system just as she once had many times before. Samara had vivid memories of Mashad taking the reins and hacking various systems over the years, though many of those recollections were fuzzy. Not being a Tinker herself, she’d glossed over the actual mechanics of those break-ins, gladly leaving them in the capable hands of the Precursor technician instead.

It took several minutes of concentrated effort before the hatch finally slid open. “We should encounter no further physical obstacles until we reach the spacedock,” the engineer said, “so I am returning control to Bellator Hosk.” Stowing away the toolkit, the warrior drew their weapon and moved cautiously forward, searching for any signs of movement, with Samara close behind.

Several minutes later, the pair spotted sentries manning the perimeter. They’d dug their foxholes deep within the loose lunar soil, but the lower strata were lighter than the surface powder, causing their fighting positions to stick out like the proverbial sore thumb. They could have easily camouflaged the dirt by sprinkling topsoil over the excavated regolith, but for some reason, they’d failed to do so. Had they interrupted their efforts, arriving on station before the defenders had time to finish their positions? Was it laziness on their part? The belief that no one would dare attack them here?

Samara didn’t know the answer to that, but whatever the reason, it left them vulnerable. They could have simply targeted the positions, but then a firefight was the last thing they wanted. Besides being outnumbered, they would quickly become bogged down, slowing their advance to a crawl or even being forced to withdraw completely. Thankfully, that wasn’t necessary, as their exposed trenches were simple enough to avoid. It forced them to deviate from their original path, swinging wide to bypass their positions until they found a gap in the line. They crawled on their bellies to slip past the guards before finally arriving in sight of the shipyard’s entrance.

A pair of Valkyries stood as gatekeepers, barring the entrance to any unauthorized personnel. Neutralizing them without being spotted would be tricky, even though they were through the perimeter, the bulk of the base’s defenders now at their back and facing outward. A minute… two, at most… and they’d be inside before anyone realized what happened.

Two days ago, Samara would have been the one storming the gate. Now she was relegated to the sidelines while Rúna, with Cherdor Hosk at the helm, ghosted forward in her place. She’d gotten used to being the unstoppable force in the equation, but as she watched the Valkyrie inch her way closer to the objective, she recognized the moves all too well. It wouldn’t be long now…

A few quiet coughs, the sound lost in the vacuum, dropped both guards in the space of a heartbeat. Moments later Rúna was waving her forward as the two linked back up, cycling open the airlock as they both disappeared inside.