Tyrial awoke feeling as though he had never slept. He had woken up off and on all night long with nightmares. It wasn’t until he had woken up screaming at about three in the morning that he had finally gotten some relief. That relief was currently snuggled up to his back with one arm thrown over his waist.

  Tyrial felt like a child, needing the comfort of his mother constantly in order to sleep. He had tried to make it on his own the last few nights, refusing Rella’s offers to keep him company. Last night she hadn’t bothered to give him the choice. Walking into his room bleary-eyed after his most recent nightmare, she had crawled into his bed without a word and snuggled up to his back.

  Sitting up carefully so as not to wake her, he looked back and was forced to smile despite his sour mood. Sleeping peacefully, she looked happy. Dressed in a modest sleeping gown that did nothing to accentuate her features, she still looked beautiful. Not for the first time, Tyrial felt a pang for the loss of what could have been with her.

  Shaking his head, he tried his best to force those kinds of thoughts out of his mind. She was his friend, more than that, she was as close as the sibling he had never had. He had to be thankful for what he did have, besides the only difference between what they had and marriage was the sex. Thankful that she was still asleep, Tyrial tried again to clear his mind as well as the blush forming on his cheeks.

  Taking a slow deep breath, he quietly got up and after grabbing some clothes, headed for the bathroom. He almost wished he could just remove the inconvenient desires that he had no outlet for. He had never really had a problem with that before now, it might have helped if Rella hadn’t been so beautiful. Spending a few extra minutes in the shower relieving some of the tension manually, he then went through some of the early meditation techniques his father had taught him before he had learned of the Mental Void. They didn’t work as well, but they did help. He was still hesitant to invoke his Mental Void after having gotten lost in it once.

  Getting dressed and stepping out of the bathroom, he saw that Rella was still fast asleep on his bed. Deciding that he didn’t want to wake her up, he moved for the door.

  “Not even a goodbye?” Rella asked groggily from behind him.

  Smiling and turning, Tyrial said, “I didn’t want to wake you up.”

  “Mmm,” Rella replied, pushing herself up, she crawled out of the bed and walked over to where Tyrial was still standing by the door. Standing up on her toes, she leaned forward and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and said, “Good luck today, don’t let them get to you, ok?”

  “I’ll do my best,” Tyrial said in a sour voice. He was not looking forward to said meeting. Granted he wasn’t going to be the focus this time, and it was entirely virtual, but listening to those windbags drone on could try anyone's patience.

  Smiling up at him, Rella said, “Just let Gabriel do the talking and you’ll be fine. He’s good at getting the Council to do the right thing.” Glancing at the clock sitting on his still slightly skewed nightstand, she said, “Better get going.” Turning she started walking towards his bathroom while saying, “I’m going to use your shower, ok?” Without waiting for a response, she closed the bathroom door behind her.

  Chuckling while at the same time feeling oddly depressed, Tyrial realized he really did have a sister now. That’s what you called a girlfriend without any of the benefits right? Opening the door, he stepped out into the hallway and stopped for a moment. He had time for breakfast he supposed, but given what was on this morning's agenda, he really didn’t feel like eating.

  A minute later, he found himself standing outside of Gabriel's ready room door. A minute after that, he finally managed to talk himself into tapping the entry request button. The door opened without preamble, sitting behind an impressively large stack of tablets and actual papers, sat Gabriel. He didn’t look up from the tablet he was currently examining as Tyrial stepped into his ready room.

  “Sit,” Gabriel said distractedly, gesturing vaguely to a pair of chairs that sat in front of his desk. Both, however, were covered in paper and tablets.

  Glancing at the disorganized piles, Tyrial decided not to bother with them. Standing to the side of the chairs, he said, “Are you sure you need me for this?”

  Sighing, Gabriel put down the tablet he had been studying and looked up at Tyrial. “I’m not asking you to talk to any of them,” Gabriel said, “just keep your eyes open. When the captains are invited to a Council meeting, their Mage’s come with them.”

  “So I’m just decoration,” Tyrial said, “alright. But if I have to listen to those windbags for too long, I can’t promise I’ll be able to keep my mouth shut, or my eyes open.”

  Smiling wryly, Gabriel said, “Never decoration my friend.” Moving back from his desk, he stood and walked around it. “With any luck,” he continued, “I’ll be knocking those windbags down a peg or two today.”

  “Oh?” Tyrial said, the first hints of interest beginning to grow.

  “I’d give you the details,” Gabriel said, “but I wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise.” His expression had started to move from haggard to the more familiar wolf-like expression of a man who intended to have the upper hand and keep it.

  Looking around at all the scattered papers and tablets, Tyrial said, “Seems like a lot of work just to let the air out of those blowhards.”

  Nodding, Gabriel said, “It would be, yes. But the political deflation is more of an added bonus than the main event. Those puffed up popinjays serve a purpose, certainly. But they're not nearly as important as they would like to believe.”

  “You’ve certainly piqued my curiosity,” Tyrial said.

  “Good,” Gabriel said, “because once all this meaningless posturing is over with, I’m very much going to need your help.” He finished the sentence with a sweeping gesture indicating all of the various papers and tablets strewn across his office.

  “I’m not a secretary,” Tyrial said flatly, raising one eyebrow.

  Laughing, Gabriel said, “The mess I can handle, trust me you’ll want in on this.” Glancing at the PA on his wrist, Gabriel continued, “Well, I’ve done as much as I can here I suppose. Time to face the firing squad.” Halfway to the door, he stopped, and looking seriously at Tyrial for a moment, he said, “You’re not drunk this time, right?”

  Snorting, Tyrial said derisively, “No.”

  “Too bad,” Gabriel said, “Anyway, let’s go ruffle some feathers.”

  As they made their way down the stairs towards the cargo bays, Tyrial asked, “Does the Council always conduct all of their meetings virtually?”

  “Mostly,” Gabriel said. “Generally when you’re running a large scale terrorist organization, it's a bad idea to gather everyone together in one easy to nuke location. That’s why they set up the quantum relay network.”

  “So that’s what the satellite we pulled up to was,” said Tyrial. More hesitantly, he said, “Do you… really consider us to be terrorists?”

  Snorting loudly, Gabriel said, “Of course not, but that’s what the Conclave says. And it’s certainly the excuse they’d use even if they had to blow up an entire planet to get rid of us.”

  Following Gabriel into cargo bay two, Tyrial wondered how they were supposed to conduct a virtual conference in the cluttered cavernous room. Gabriel stepped into a two-meter diameter circle inscribed on the cargo bay floor.

  Joining him in the circle, Tyrial said, “So, not exactly a holo-chamber, how's this going to work?”

  Smiling broadly, Gabriel said, “I had this installed a few years back, watch this.” Tapping a few buttons on his PA, the entire room shimmered in multi-hued lights for a second, then almost as if by magic, the various crates and containers in the room melted out of existence. A few seconds later and the spacious cargo bay was empty save for themselves.

  “Virtual cargo?” Tyrial asked in confusion.

  Continuing to maintain his self-satisfied smile, Gabriel tapped a few more buttons on his PA. Taking a few steps outside of the large circle to where a crate once sat, he pulled a stylus out of his pocket, held it out, and dropped it. With a plink, the stylus landed on thin air and sat hovering about one crate’s height off the ground.

  “Fascinating,” Tyrial said, impressed.

  “It’s not the best,” Gabriel said with false humility. “The really nice ones can use a gravity emitter to make the virtual objects feel real. Anyway, make sure you stand in the circle, the capture system can only see things inside it.”

  Picking up his stylus, Gabriel stood in the center of the circle next to Tyrial. “I’d appreciate it,” Gabriel said, “if you would keep any reservations about my plan to yourself until after the meeting.”

  “Alright,” Tyrial said. “You know that kind of provision probably wouldn’t have been necessary if you’d have just told me what you were planning ahead of time.”

  Giving Tyrial a toothy smile, Gabriel said, “Sure, but what would be the fun in that.”

  Shaking his head, Tyrial let his retort die on his tongue as Gabriel’s PA beeped. Glancing at it, Gabriel tapped a few controls on the PA and the cargo bay was plunged into darkness. “Here we go,” he said.

  The room shimmered for a second, then like disintegration in reverse, an enormous chamber began to materialize. The chamber itself appeared to be made from some light blue glowing metallic material Tyrial had never seen before. Chances were the material didn’t actually exist. The chamber was circular with concentric rows of stands one above the other on the outer edge. The innermost circular stand was decorated with glowing gold filigree.

  The center of the chamber was a mostly empty bottomless pit that looked about thirty meters in diameter. At the center of the empty open pit was a two-meter diameter circular platform that appeared to hang suspended at the same level as the lowermost stands.

  As the chamber finished coalescing, Tyrial and Gabriel’s perspective shifted. As though the chamber itself was moving around them, they found themselves in the stands one level up from the one decorated in gold.

  As Tyrial watched, the rest of the chamber began filling with shimmering semi-translucent individuals. Most of them appeared in sets of two on the rings at or above the one Tyrial and Gabriel were standing on. In contrast, individuals appearing on the one ring below them generally only appeared one at a time. They also tended to be clothed in thick robes with their hoods drawn up or otherwise wearing ornate masks that covered their entire heads.

  “Are they shy or something?” Tyrial whispered to Gabriel, pointing to the hooded and masked people below them.

  “Were muted for now,” Gabriel said in a normal voice, “I’ll let you know if that changes. And as for the Council? Well, the fewer people able to identify them the better I suppose. Most captains only know the identity of a few members of the Council. Some of us more than a few, but either way, with the Conclave, caution is always prudent.”

  “So I assume,” Tyrial said, “everyone in that inner ring are Council members?”

  Nodding, Gabriel said, “Correct, and everyone above that ring are captains and their associated Mages.”

  Looking at the other rings, Tyrial saw a motley collection of people. Almost all of whom stood in groups of two. Many of them also wearing masks. He was surprised to see quite a few non-humans in the group. The Conclave generally never employed non-humans as anything more than servants. It certainly made him feel a little bit better about the Opposition's priorities. Then he noticed another curious pattern. Gabriel had said everyone on their ring and above were captains. If the captains were always supposed to bring their Mage’s, why were some of those people standing around them alone?

  “What's with the loners?” Tyrial asked, pointing to a few of the captains standing by themselves.

  “Tell me,” Gabriel said with a self-satisfied smile playing on his lips, “why would a captain not need a Mage?”

  The only obvious answer to that question almost stunned Tyrial into speechlessness. In a near whisper, Tyrial said, “If… they were Mage’s themselves…”

  “Would you like to be the captain of your own ship someday?” Gabriel asked.

  “I… I don’t know,” Tyrial replied honestly. He had never given any thought to such things. Honestly, until recently, he hadn’t really given much thought to anything save destroying the Conclave by any means necessary.

  “Well,” said Gabriel, “if we manage to have our way, someday you might get the chance. Ah, there about to start. Finally.”

  Tyrial noticed that the gold filigree on the innermost stand had started to glow brighter. All of the captains and Mages were turning to face the central platform floating in the center of the chamber. As Tyrial watched, a hooded and robed figure who had presumably been previously standing somewhere in the innermost stands materialized in the center of the floating disc.

  “Thank you all,” said the hooded figure in a booming voice, “for attending this meeting. I know it can be difficult to find the time necessary, however, I assure you your attendance is appreciated. We will endeavor to keep this meeting brief.” At those words, Tyrial could see many of the captains and Mages visibly laughing, although he heard nothing but the booming voice as it continued, “To that end, allow me to introduce Councillor Mellock”

  The hooded and robed figure dematerialized from the disc. A few seconds later, another figure materialized in his place. This one was taller and wearing a blue and silver stylized mask covering the upper portion of his face. Above the mask was a close-cropped mane of silver hair.

  “I suspect the debate will be lengthy,” Mellock said, “so I will get to the point of the question as quickly as possible. A little less than one hundred years ago, the Vaylen made contact with the government of the United Planets of Sol. They stated they had in their position an Artifact of the Ancients that was destined for our species. The Sol government contacted the Conclave and asked them to retrieve the Artifact. Receiving word of the Artifacts existence, the Opposition attempted to intercept the Artifact as it was being transferred to the Conclave. Unfortunately, both groups were ambushed by pirates, and the Artifact was lost.”

  “This is, of course,” Mellock continued, “ancient history to all of us here. Two critical pieces of information regarding this Artifact have recently come to light, however. The first, perhaps the most interesting, is that we are relatively certain now that this Artifact holds some secrets to potentially unlocking the ability for human Mage’s to combine their Will.”

  At his words, the entire assemblage began moving and silently talking to each other excitedly. Only the Council in the innermost ring continued to stand stoically, obviously, this was not news to them. While silence from the muted stands continued to dominate, the Councillor standing on the central platform could obviously see he did not have everyone's full attention.

  Standing with his hands held calmly behind his back, Mellock waited. As order began to restore itself to the assembly, he continued, “The true purpose of the artifact is still, at this point, pure speculation. What is not speculation, however, is the second piece of information we have uncovered about this artifact. The second, and most terrifying piece of information, is that the Conclave has managed to recover the Artifact two days ago.”

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  The stands once again broke into silent commotions. This time, however, Mellock did not wait for order to restore itself, he simply continued, “They currently hold the Artifact on the edge of the Arcturas Cluster awaiting reinforcements to escort it back to the Sol Cluster. Our only advantage, if you can call it that, are the Dreadnoughts they are using for the escort. They are relatively slow ships and it will take just short of two days for them to rendezvous with the science ship currently holding the artifact. That means we must come to a consensus on our next move, today, here, now.”

  Giving that information a few seconds to sink in, Mellock stood surveying the room. Once the turmoil began to dissipate, he continued, “I open the floor to discussion.” Councillor Mellock’s avatar flickered and disappeared from the floating circular platform.

  A few seconds later, another Councillor took his place. This one shorter and bald wearing an ornate mask that covered his entire face. Before his avatar had even fully finished materializing on the stand he began speaking in a loud voice.

  “This is the opportunity we have been waiting for,” the bald man said with conviction, “we can use this as leverage to convince the other houses to join us. We will mount a full assault on the Conclave and end their tyranny once and for all!”

  There were some cheers from the unmuted Councillors in the inner ring, a few raised fists from some of those standing in the upper rings. The enthusiasm for the plan, however, seemed underwhelming to Tyrial. It seemed the bald man standing on the platform also sensed the lack of support.

  “Where is your backbone!,” he yelled. “We have been at their mercy for centuries. Now is the time to put an end to —”

  In mid harang, the bald man was cut off as his avatar was dematerialized and presumably moved back to the inner ring with the rest of the Council. Replacing him was a short man with wild gray hair sticking up from his head and a small black mask covering his eyes.

  “I don’t care for the Conclave any more than you, Councillor Leroy,” the new speaker said. “We are, however, in no way prepared for an all-out war with them. Perhaps we should revisit the idea of a diplomatic resolution to this problem.”

  As the man on the pedestal spoke, the Council seemed to become more and more agitated. Voices began to rise, many Councillors seeming to forget about speaking in turns and opted for the simple expedient of shouting over the person speaking on the pedestal.

  Looking at Gabriel, Tyrial asked, “I would ask how they determine who gets to speak, but it doesn’t seem like they even care anymore.”

  Chuckling to himself, Gabriel said, “This is about what I expected. The Council does everything by vote. Some things require a higher majority than others but the process doesn’t lend itself well to emergencies.”

  Tyrial raised an eyebrow and said, “So basically no one’s in charge.”

  “Basically,” replied Gabriel, a slight smile still on his lips. “This discussion is a tad more intense than most others I’ve seen though.”

  The discussion had turned heated it seemed, Tyrial had stopped even trying to follow the near screaming match going on below. Councilors on the pedestal were being replaced one after another, usually getting out no more than a single sentence before being replaced again.

  After the better part of half an hour, however, it seemed that most of the vehemence had gotten out of everyone's system and the discussion began to resemble an actual debate. After another fifteen minutes, even that began to dwindle as people began repeating themselves.

  Finally, Councillor Mellock took the pedestal again. He stood surveying the room for a few minutes as quiet finally descended on the meeting.

  “It seems we have a few differences of opinion on the matter,” he said with understated irony. “So,” he continued, “if we examine the proposals that survived the vote, we are left with these three. One, wage an all-out war on the Conclave with whatever resources we can put together in the next forty-eight hours. Two, begin negotiations with the Conclave in what will likely become terms for surrender. Three, make a calculated strike on the convoy carrying the Artifact with everything we have and hope we can capture the artifact.”

  Giving those bleak options a few seconds to settle in, Mellock continued, “None of those three options are good ones. We are unprepared for an all-out war and none of us wish to surrender to the Conclave. Even a concentrated strike at the convoy holding the Artifact seems unrealistic. We have no ships beyond scouts or freighters in the area, and by the time we could place anything stronger the dreadnoughts would be on top of us.”

  At Mellock’s words, many of the Councillors began trying to interject their own opinions without benefit of the pedestal once again. Whatever method was used to dictate the one allowed on the pedestal, however, wasn’t used to remove Mellock. The man stood silently as the yelling continued for several minutes.

  “Get your game face on,” Gabriel said to Tyrial as the yelling began to die down again. “Were up shortly.”

  Tyrial looked at Gabriel sharply. Although Gabriel said that the Council determined everything by a vote, Tyrial strongly suspected it wasn’t as simple as that. No political body ever was. All the other Council members couldn’t hold the pedestal for more than a minute or two, however, this Mellock individual seemed to be able to hold it at will. Then there was Gabriel’s seeming pre-knowledge of how the proceedings were going to progress. Just because everyone got a vote, didn’t mean it wasn’t determined for them ahead of time by crafty manipulation.

  Gabriel turned and looked at Tyrial, “I see the questions, now is not the time. I promise I’ll explain later.”

  Sighing, Tyrial nodded and did his best to plaster a confident and knowledgeable expression on his face. The trick now would be to keep it there as Gabriel talked.

  Once the Councillors had calmed down, Mellock continued again, “I realize this is unorthodox, but I humbly request that you entertain one more option from a friend of mine. If you will allow me to introduce one of our most capable captains, I believe he has a plan that is worth listening to.”

  Mellock had somehow managed to put a convincingly humble expression on his face as he apparently waited for the other Councillors to vote. Tyrial couldn’t see any indication of how the vote was taken or of its results. A few seconds later, however, the self-assured smile that had been on Mellocks face earlier reappeared and he bowed slightly in the general direction of the other Councillors.

  “My thanks,” Mellock said. “May I introduce Captain Vendal of the Osiris.”

  As Mellock finished his introduction he disappeared from the pedestal. Suddenly Tyrial’s perspective of the gathering changed. The chamber seemed to move beneath him, a few seconds later he found himself and Gabriel standing on the pedestal previously occupied by Mellock.

  Looking around from this new perspective, Tyrial had a much better view of the gathered Councillors standing around them. He could also hear the grumbling coming from said Councillors much more clearly. Much of that grumbling was not complimentary.

  “Let’s hear this amazing ‘plan’, we don’t have all day,” one of the Councillors shouted from the inner ring with sarcasm.

  Gabriel didn’t seem to let any of the grumbling or uncomplimentary comments phase him in the least. He simply stood in the middle of the pedestal and smiling at the gathered Council members, began his pitch.

  “I believe we can all agree that a direct confrontation with the Conclave, either in an attempt to depose them or even simply to take the artifact they possess by force would be disastrous. And I can’t imagine anyone here would seriously consider negotiating with them as I’m sure the first demand would be your collective heads on plates.”

  The grumbling and contentious comments intensified as Gabriel spoke. Raising his voice only slightly, he continued undeterred. “I suggest,” Gabriel said, ”as an alternative that instead of a direct confrontation, we go with the more expedient means of simply stealing it.”

  The ring of Councillors exploded into equal parts laughing and indignant outrage. One of the more boisterous Councillors raised his voice above the others and said, “So let me see if I have this straight. The artifact currently sits on a Galaxy Class science vessel guarded by two Septim Class cruisers and who knows how many Conclave Mage’s and you're just going to waltz up and steal it.”

  Somehow, Gabriel's smile got even broader. Looking at the Councillor in question, he simply said with absolute confidence, “Yes.”

  Spluttering indignantly at the simple straightforward answer, the loud-mouthed Councillor did not have an immediate reply. Into this temporary silence, Councillor Mellock interjected, “Might I ask, what resources of the Opposition would you need for this operation.”

  Ignoring the still sputtering loud-mouthed Councillor, Gabriel addressed Mellock and said, “Very little. Two Opposition Mage’s to join my crew and a ten-minute distraction for the two cruisers currently guarding the science vessel in about eighteen hours.”

  It seemed that while Gabriel’s self-confident attitude was having little positive effect on the loud-mouthed Councillor, many of the others were starting to mumble to themselves in a more thoughtful manner.

  The loudmouth, on the other hand, managed to get his voice working correctly again and said, “Is that all!? Just ‘distract’ two Conclave cruisers. As if we had that kind of firepower just laying around.”

  Calmly, Gabriel responded, “Weren't you just agreeing that an all-out attack on the Conclave was the best course of action? Besides, I didn’t say the Cruisers needed to be destroyed or even engaged. Just kept busy looking elsewhere for a few minutes.”

  As the loud mouth Councillor went back to spluttering indignantly, Mellock interjected again, “Perhaps if we had a broad overview of your plan, it might help.”

  “Of course,” replied Gabriel. Turning to address the other Councillors, he began, “I have in my possession a Tartarin boarding pod, it has been heavily modified with Karachi stealth technology to make it undetectable to subspace sensors. Using the pod we will board the science vessel via an unprotected main engine exhaust vent. Once onboard, we will make our way undetected to the quarantine lockdown where the artifact is being held. Once we have the artifact we will head back to the pod and leave as we came or use one of the science vessels escape pods. Should the distraction not prove sufficient at that point we will simply Jump the pod to safety.”

  Even though Gabriel delivered his plan as though it were a foregone success, the assembled Councillors seemed to be split on whether his explanation made them feel better or worse. One older woman spoke up and asked, “I’m not familiar with Tartarin boarding pod’s, but I can only assume they are large. How do you plan to Jump something that large?”

  “Simple,” Gabriel said. Turning to Tyrial he laid a hand on his shoulder and said, “My ship Mage will handle it. He can Jump entire spaceship’s, a small boarding pod won’t be any problem for him.”

  It was at this point that the confident smile on Tyrial’s face began to slip despite all his best efforts. He could only just barely Jump an entire starship and that was with the help of its Graviton emitter. Gabriel squeezed his shoulder a little tighter and Tyrial redoubled his efforts to look more confident than he felt about this plan.

  The assembled Councillor’s certainly seemed impressed by Gabriel’s statement. Many of the mumbles floating around the room now contained the words ‘Jump’ and ‘spaceship’ rather prominently. Tyrial didn’t like being oversold like this, it was going to be him that had to try and keep these promises.

  Looking around and smiling broadly, Gabriel said, “It’s settled then. Give me twenty-four hours and I’ll have that artifact safely out of Conclave hands.”

  “It’s far from settled,” mister loud mouth Councillor said in response. “I don’t think —,” before he could finish his thought, Mellock interrupted him.

  “If I may interject,” Mellock said, then continued without waiting for permission, “I think we can easily accommodate two possibilities here. Gabriel’s plan requires very little resources and they should be no problem to gather in the required time. We can then spend the remaining time gathering as much of the fleet as we can for an upfront confrontation if that becomes necessary. That was the plan you had preferred, was it not Verdinan?”

  The loud-mouthed Councillor now known as Verdinan continued grumbling loudly, but apparently chose to accept Mellock’s suggestion as he didn’t raise his voice to argue again.

  “Excellent,” said Mellock. “Are there any further questions for Gabriel?” Pausing only for the briefest of seconds, Mellock continued, “No? Very good. Thank you for your time Captain Vendal.”

  With that, Tyrial’s perspective shifted again back to their original spot on the second tier of the chamber. Mellock, now standing where they had only moments before. Tyrial was intensely glad to no longer be under the scrutiny of so many masked eyes. The experience reminded him of why he didn’t like people.

  “Now I’m sure you're all going to want to get started on the logistics of gathering the fleet,” Mellock said to the Councillors. “If you’ll be so kind as to excuse myself and Captain Vendal I can help him prepare for his mission. I’m sure he’ll want to get underway as soon as possible.” Again waiting only for the briefest of seconds, he bowed to the assembled Councillors and disappeared from the chamber completely. A few seconds later the chamber and all of its occupants dissolved, leaving Tyrial and Gabriel standing in blackness.

  Gabriel didn’t move or seem concerned with the change of venue. A few seconds later a large room sprang up around them. It was brightly lit by several large open windows with sunlight streaming in. Small plants and potted shrubs occupied many of the corners. Taking up the majority of the center of the room was a large circular indentation. On a raised portion of the back of the room was a desk with a tall backed chair behind it.

  Tyrial and Gabriel found themselves standing in the center of the circular indentation. Standing just before them was Mellock.

  “Well that went about as planned,” Mellock said.

  Gabriel shrugged and said, “Always a gamble with that lot.”

  “Perhaps,” Mellock replied, “but most of them have their heads screwed on straight. It's just a matter of finding the right tactics to convince the rest to go along.”

  “At any rate,” Melock continued, “we got what we needed. I already have the two Mage’s you’ll need picked out and ready to go. You can pick them up at Toshi station on your way to the Arcturas cluster. They aren't as strong as your impressive friend here but they should be able to hold their own.”

  Turning to look at Tyrial, Mellock said, “Speaking of, did you really Jump an entire starship? Not that it matters, I’m just curious.”

  Tyrial looked briefly at Gabriel. This man seemed like an ally but you could never be too sure. Gabriel briefly nodded at him, so turning back to Mellock, Tyrial said, “I did.”

  “Impressive,” Mellock said, “and cautious too, I like that.” Looking at Gabriel, Mellock asked, “So, how much have you told him?”

  “Just what he needed to know,” Gabriel replied with a straight face.

  Grunting, Mellock said, “So everything.” As Gabriel began to protest, Mellock continued, “No no, don’t bother denying it. I know you Gabriel. It’s fine, if you succeed at stealing this artifact, I should be able to get him into the Opposition officially anyway.”

  Looking at Tyrial, Mellock asked, “Assuming, of course, that is still your goal?”

  Tyrial wasn’t entirely certain of any such thing, but he figured he could always bolt later if it didn’t work out. “Yes sir,” he replied. Trying his best to sound respectful instead of suspicious.

  Mellock looked at Tyrial for a few moments, one eyebrow raised. He said nothing, however. Shrugging he looked back at Gabriel and said, “Is there anything else I can do to help improve your odds? I’m sure I don’t need to tell you how much is riding on this.”

  “You don’t,” replied Gabriel. His usually laid-back manner replaced by one of deadly seriousness. “Those distractions I requested will be somewhat important though.”

  “I haven't forgotten,” Mellock said, “I have two corvette’s that I can get there quickly enough. They should provide a sufficient distraction so long as you don’t expect them to make an actual dent in the cruisers.”

  “Just keep them occupied for about ten minutes,” replied Gabriel, “that's all I need. Once we're through the exhaust port undetected we should be fine. We should be able to provide our own distraction on the way out if we need it.”

  “Good good,” Mellock said. Chuckling almost to himself, he said, “I’m glad no one thought to ask how we got the schematics for that science vessel.”

  Smiling, Gabriel said, “I had some convincing lies planned for that anyway, but it’s just as well they didn’t ask.”

  “Well,” Mellock said, straightening. “I wish I could shake your hand for good luck. Just the same though, good luck. And be careful. I don’t like to admit this to myself much less to you, but you and your ship are extremely important to the Opposition. And… I suppose I would rather you didn’t die while you're at it.”

  “Why Mellock,” Gabriel said with mock feeling, “I didn’t know you cared. I’m touched.”

  Shooting Gabriel a dirty look, Mellock simply said, “Just don’t die, ok?”

  Gabriel nodded, then tapped his PA. The room dissolved into darkness, then the darkness dissolved into the cargo bay they had been standing in. Taking a deep breath, Gabriel said, “Well, that was the hard part. Now we just need to steal a priceless artifact of the Ancients out from underneath the Conclaves heavily guarded noses.”

  Grunting, Tyrial said, “Sounds simple enough. Where do we start?”

  “Toshi station it would seem,” replied Gabriel. Indicating the door to the cargo bay he said, “After you.”

  A few hours later, Tyrial found himself standing next to Gabriel at the docking port of the Osiris, looking at a very unlikely pair of Mages. One looked to be in his early teens, which meant he was likely in his mid-twenties. Still, the fresh-faced young man did not exude very much in the way of confidence.

  The other man who walked through the airlock was an enigma. His hair was long and completely gray. His face was weathered and covered in wrinkles. He looked old, if Tyrial had to guess, somewhere north of two hundred years. Tyrial had never heard of a Mage that old. Not that they couldn’t live that long, just that they usually didn’t.

  Tyrial had heard a coroner's joke once. Something about the checkboxes for “Occupation: Mage” and “Death By: Natural Causes” being mutually exclusive options. It seemed the old man standing before him was doing his best to prove them wrong.

  The younger of the two stepped forward and nervously extended his hand, wavering it between Tyrial and Gabriel. “Hi, uhh, I’m Jason, Jason Vern. It’s a pleasure to meet you…”

  He trailed off as Tyrial just looked at him for a moment. Turning to Gabriel, Tyrial asked, “Really?”

  “If Mellock says he can hold his own,” Gabriel said, extending his own hand and grabbing the wavering young man's hand. “That’s good enough for me,” he finished, shaking the hand and releasing it.

  Looking almost star-struck, Jason just stood there smiling at Gabriel and Tyrial, not saying a word. Finally, Gabriel pointed behind him and said, “Down the hall, first left and you’ll see the mess hall. We’ll all be gathering there.”

  Finally realizing he was being dismissed, the young man nodded and headed down the hall. The older man made a disgusted sound before following the younger man down the hall with no more than a brief nod to Gabriel.

  “Well,” Tyrial said, “One’s still shaking the baby powder off his ass and the other probably remembers when baby powder was invented.”

  Smiling, Gabriel said, “Weren't you telling me not so long ago that age didn’t matter? Come on, let's get this shit show started.”

  Turning, Gabriel headed back down the hall towards the mess, Tyrial followed. Once inside they found the young man standing just inside the door staring wide-eyed at Kreshen who was sitting at one of the tables. Tapping the young man on the shoulder, Gabriel said, “Jason was it?”

  Jumping slightly, Jason looked behind him. At least he had the decency to look embarrassed, Tyrial thought.

  “I need you on the bridge,” Gabriel said. “Rella currently has the con, she’ll tell you what to do.”

  Jason nodded, took one step then stopped looking slightly confused.

  “That way,” Gabriel said, pointing down the hallway towards the bridge.

  Nodding again, Jason headed down the indicated hallway. Sighing, Gabriel turned back to the mess. Looking at the tablet he'd been carrying around, he looked at the old man who had already taken a seat and said, “Delanor?”

  Delanor grunted in the affirmative but said nothing else.

  “Right,” Gabriel said. He looked over the assembled crew briefly. Sarah and William sat at a table in the far corner, as usual, their heads together. Kreshen sat by himself as he always did, a book sitting on the table in front of him where he'd put it down when Gabriel entered. Zin’dar was, as always, hiding somewhere in Engineering and Liam likewise in the MedBay. With Rella on the bridge and Jason sent to join her, the mess looked oddly empty for such an important meeting.

  Tyrial walked over to an empty table and sat, Gabriel had said he was going to explain his entire plan. Knowing Gabriel, Tyrial figured this was going to be the kind of thing you’d want to be sitting down for.