Vas could hear Ciro and Alix muttering behind him as he and Lynx set the course and dropped the ship into velox, but he managed to tune them out until he could switch over to autopilot. When it was engaged, he put a hand to his eyes and pressed them with his fingers.

“Captain?”

“Yes, Lynx?”

“If you’ll permit me to note, sir, it has been a long time since you’ve slept. You should—”

“I know, Lynx.” Vas took a deep breath. “I know. How long are we going to be in velox for?”

“At least seventy-eight hours, Captain. That calculation takes into account the stops that Master Ciro requested but not any changes to our destination.”

“I see. Thank you, Lynx.” Vas stood up and made his way down the stairs. “What have we got?” he called out to his two passengers.

Alix looked over Ciro’s hunched shoulders. “We’ve been reviewing and discussing what to do about our approach to P41.”

“And I told her I’ve got it.” Ciro sounded almost petulant.

“And I told him that ‘run like hell’ isn’t a real backup plan.”

Vas smiled. It was always nice to see his little brother annoyed, but it was even better considering he wasn’t the one being exasperated by Reyer this time. “It’s always worked well for me.”

Ciro motioned to Adan with an open hand, as if presenting him might be a compelling counter argument. Vas could have told him that it wouldn’t help his case.

The captain went on, “But if you’re already to critiquing the backup plan, that means you think you have a way onto the planet?”

“Oh, sure.” Ciro shrugged. “That’s not a problem.”

Maybe Vas was more exhausted than he thought. And he thought it was a miracle he was still conscious.

“That’s…not…a problem?” Vas glanced at Reyer, but she seemed unconcerned. “Am I missing something? This is 41, right? Full force fields, no peacekeepers because everything’s martial law—”

“That’s the planet, all right,” Ciro said, “which is the only reason we’ll be able to get in so easy, actually.”

Vas rubbed his face with his hands. “Can you explain this plan using small words in less than five minutes?”

He felt a touch on his knee. “Adan?”

He reached down and took Reyer’s hand. “I’m tired. I haven’t slept in a while.”

From the cockpit they heard the mechanized voice of Lynx. “Twenty-eight hours and fourteen minutes to be exact.”

Ciro let out a low whistle.

“If you don’t go to bed soon,” Alix said, “Lynx is going to start telling you all the statistics about what sleep deprivation does to your health.”

“Ah, yes. My favorite lullaby.” Vas squeezed her hand before letting go. “Plan first, then sleep.”

When he nodded to his little brother, Ciro started talking.

“You remember when I blew up that Supremacy battleship?”

“It’s be hard to forget, Ciro.”

“Before I blew it up, I took some time to snoop around their machines.”

“Directly disobeying my instructions in order to do so.” Vas felt it was important to note that.

“When I got back to Home Base, I was able to unpack the nan-cards and tablet, and found that I’d managed to hijack some pretty important systems information.” Ciro paused before adding in a louder voice, “You’re welcome.”

There was some grudging approval in Vas’s expression. “And this information?”

“Because 41 is under the complete control of the Supremacy military, all their codes and security systems are going to be running under the same information I managed to steal from the battleship. With these codes, they’ll not only let us in, but they might offer us sparkling mineral water while they finish cleaning and resupplying our ship before they send us off again.”

Vas turned to Reyer. “Is he exaggerating?”

“Only slightly,” she said. “We’ll have to pick a likely cover story for ourselves and the Golondrina, but after that we should be able to bluff our way onto any port on the planet without raising an alarm—provided we have some fake IDs.”

“Ah!” Ciro held up a finger to stall them as he rooted around in his kit bag. Once he found the cards, he held them up, fanned out. “Break out the confetti and cake! It’s time for presents.”

As Ciro handed him his new ID, Adan said, “And these names are actually fairly common and random? Not some obscure literary character from ancient times?”

“See?” Ciro said. “This is why I never get you anything. Such ingratitude.”

“Just checking.”

“Alice Bellerose.” Reyer hummed for a moment. “I guess I’ll take it.”

“Francisco Banderas,” Adan said. After he read the name, he held it out so Reyer could see it.

“I’ve never read it,” she assured him.

The captain pulled out his wallet and shed his old ID in favor of the new one. “And we still have the same last name?” he asked Ciro.

Ciro looked down at his own card. “Antonio Banderas. Doomed to forever be the pushed-around little brother. I wish I could warn him.”

“Do we have to decide our cover story now?”

“No. Our first stop to screen code and begin infiltrating their signal isn’t for at least thirty-five hours.”

“Thirty-four hours and forty-seven minutes,” Lynx informed them.

“Good,” Vas said. “We’ll continue this later.” He put his elbows on his knees and leaned forward. “Now, tell me why you’re both really here.”

Lynx’s head swiveled around.

Adan nodded to Alix. “I know your name was included in the message, so, in a way, you have every right to be here. But from what you said, the generals weren’t eager to have you come.” To Ciro he said, “And you could have sent a program with Alix or given me some kind of techie scrub, but instead you insisted that you were personally coming—in spite of all the work that you have to do.”

“You don’t know—”

“Ciro, you always have work.” The captain hadn’t been completely sure before, but after studying their faces, Vas knew he was right. “Does it have to do with Gardner? The xenos? What’s been happening while I’ve been gone?”

Reyer was the one who finally answered. “It’s a mess, Adan. The Rising didn’t kill seventeen xenos.”

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

“What?”

“The numbers that Gardner gave us were all wrong. Ciro and I checked and rechecked everything, but we couldn’t work it out. When we found the discrepancies, we contacted him. We asked him to confirm what he’d told us. He admitted he didn’t know exactly how many human-xenos there’d been, but he said he’d find out.”

Ciro took up the story: “Then about a week a half later, we found the code saying he was seeking asylum. He started asking about the xenos, and now his life’s in danger.”

“That’s why you were so confident it wasn’t a trap,” Vas said to Reyer.

“Yeah,” she said. “We’re pretty sure we’re the reason he’s in trouble.”

“Have we heard anything from the probe?” Vas tried to sound calm.

“No,” Ciro said. “There was the two-week window where the planet was unmonitored, but since we’ve put the probe in place, there’s been no sign of activity.”

Vas let out his breath. “So, nothing from the home world?”

“Nothing,” Reyer assured him again.

He nodded once. “Anything else I should know about?”

If the captain had been less weary, he might have noticed Reyer’s eyes dart over to Ciro.

“No. That about covers it,” the younger Vas said.

Adan stood up and ran a hand through his hair. “God! I needed this to be done. Like we don’t have enough problems with a new Home Base to build and a war to fight.” He looked down at Alix and opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say something. Instead, he shook his head and looked away.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Nothing.” Adan walked over to the locker where he kept the spare blankets.

“Captain.” The unexpected hail came from the cockpit. The three humans had almost forgotten Lynx was there. “My resources all indicate that the health of a relationship depends on the ability for those involved to communicate clearly and be willing to share their personal thoughts and feelings.”

Reyer closed her eyes. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Ciro held up his hands when he saw his brother’s glare. “That is not my fault. I did not program him to give dating advice.”

“Then who did?”

“It’s probably an unintended evolution!”

Vas threw a blanket at his brother’s face. “Sure. Blame the bot.”

Lynx turned to face the cabin. “Master Ciro is correct. One of my primary objectives is to look after your wellbeing. That was not limited to your physical health. Considering the various—”

“Can you program him to mind his own business?” Adan asked his brother.

“Your wellbeing is my business,” the bot insisted.

Reyer chuckled. “You should program him to take a hint. Lynx! Shut up.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The bot turned back in his seat.

Adan pulled his own blankets and pillow out from under a nearby bench and began unlacing his boots. “I’m sorry, but everything else will have to wait until I wake up.”

“But the backup plan—” Reyer said.

“Run like hell sounds good to me, though I’ve never given it the dignity of calling it a backup plan before. It’s usually what winds up happening when something goes wrong.” He put his boots aside and turned to see the look on Reyer’s face. Instead of the highly entertaining expression of annoyance he expected, she was shaking her head.

“Go to sleep, Adan,” she said. “You’re delirious and talking nonsense.”

He decided to take her advice and was almost unconscious when he heard his brother mention General Falk’s name in his whispered conversation with Reyer.

“Alix?” Adan said.

She looked at him.

He propped his head up in his hand. “Can I ask what you said to Falk?”

“Huh?”

“He said something about how you convinced him that it made sense that Gardner would want me to be his handler.”

“Oh. That.”

“Well?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“Will you think less of me if I say no?”

“I reminded him you had every reason to hate Gardner, but you still kept your word when you didn’t have to. That kind of integrity tends to create trust. It makes sense that, of everyone in the Rising, he’d rather turn himself over to you.”

“Ah,” Adan said.

“Are you blushing?”

“And you put it exactly like that, did you?”

“Well, no. I may have put more of an emphasis on your integrity. And I might have said the word honorable. Or was it noble? Virtuous?”

The captain laid back on his pillow. “Were you teasing Falk, or are you teasing me?”

Ciro unfolded his own blanket. “This is Alix Reyer we’re talking about, right? She’s teasing both of you.”

Adan closed his eyes. “Has Falk forgiven me for dating you yet?”

“You’ve done nothing wrong. Why would you need forgiveness?”

“So he doesn’t hate me?”

There was a soft breath of laughter. “Yes and no,” Reyer said. “He likes you because you remind him of him.”

“What?” Vas’s eyes flew open as he sat up.

“Oh, you know—young adventurous pilot, out to save the universe. But he used to talk back to his commanders too. He doesn’t like it as much now that he’s the commander being talked back to.”

The captain pointed at her. “I’m getting better about that.”

Her smile made him think she didn’t believe him. “He probably wishes I would date someone who’s less irksome to him personally,” she said, “but Jordan shut him up pretty good.”

“Jordan?”

That was unexpected. Vas had a feeling that Ito might be on his side, but he never thought General Jordan would be.

“He asked Falk who he’d rather I was dating. Either he’s decided you’re about as good as they get or he’s still thinking over everyone he knows, trying to find one without a serious flaw.”

“Oh, he could be at that for years,” Ciro muttered.

“No one good enough for his baby-girl, huh?” Vas said. He laid down again, then stretched out his hand to tap the toe of her boot. “Well, thank you for condescending to be with me.”

“I don’t think that’s the proper use of the word ‘condescending,’ Captain,” Lynx said.

Vas closed his eyes. “Lynx, I know where your power source is, and I know how to rip it out.”

“Both statements are factually accurate.” There was a pause. “Is this one of those ‘hints’ I should learn to take?”

“Yes, Lynx.”

“I see, sir. Shutting up now.”

It wasn’t long before both Vas brothers were asleep. Reyer tried to distract herself with her reader, but it didn’t work. When she realized she was reading the same paragraph over and over again, she gave up. The pain in her back was too much to deal with.

She pulled out her pills and looked at the on-board clock, but the numbers on the readout meant nothing to her. She realized it was probably running on Old Earth time. She pulled her blanket over her shoulders, crept past Adan, made her way up the three steps to the cockpit, and collapsed into the pilot’s seat.

“Lynx,” she whispered, “what’s the time at Home Base?”

“Oh, sixty-seven, Miss Reyer.”

“That late?” No wonder Ciro had crashed out so quickly.

“Yes, ma’am. Are you finding it difficult to sleep? Are you in pain?”

Reyer put two pills in her mouth and took a swallow from the canteen Vas kept by his seat. “Yes and yes, Lynx. You know me well.”

“I still have the majority of your files in my database. Although, I am missing some important information—most notably, your medical file. I have also been adding details and observations since our introduction.”

“Very clever.”

“Considering the fact you have been re-initiated into the Rising system, you must have been required to undergo a medical examination.”

Reyer watched the profile of what passed for the robot’s face. She didn’t answer.

Lynx turned to her. “Did the doctors have any additional recommendations for healing the injury you sustained—”

“You know, Lynx,” Reyer said, “Adan’s right. You do need to learn to mind your own business.”

“You’re upset with me.”

“And your emotional recognition program is coming along nicely.”

“Was it my comment, or is something else upsetting you?”

Maybe a little too far along. Reyer let out a slow breath and gazed out the viewport at the barren black of velox.

Both Ciro and Adan were asleep. The cold and silence of the ship were pervasive, and the constant pain wore away at her. In that lonely environment, the soft sounds that followed the robot everywhere seemed almost friendly.

Alix said, “Falk tried to stop me from coming. He said that I would be a burden—that I might hinder the mission because of my injury. I know…” She hesitated. “I know that he was saying it because he wants to keep me safe, but he asked if I would take someone like me.”

After the silence stretched past a few seconds, Lynx said, “Am I correct in my conclusion that you answered in the negative?”

Reyer nodded.

“Given your field of expertise and former work, it would have been a logical decision.”

Alix’s stomach twisted, pushing the poisonous feeling of heartache up into her chest cavity.

“However,” Lynx said, “Captain Vas does not work in your field.”

Reyer stared at the bot.

“Captain Vas does well in his position because of his resourceful and adaptable nature. Working with far fewer tools, much less preparation, and often being forced to adopt an impromptu course of action has taught him to see diverse value in whatever is at hand. He would be far more aware of your technological abilities, marksmanship, tenacity, and knowledge, and care far less about your physical limitations. After all, you may be injured, but your talents can still be useful. If you had not come, he would not have had access to those talents.”

“Is that your opinion or Adan’s probable opinion?”

“They are logical conclusions and facts. Opinion is not involved.”

“So when you said that he would have to deliberate over whether or not to bring me…”

After a while, Lynx said, “As that was not a complete thought, I don’t know how to respond.”

“You mean I’m not—” She faltered, then tried again. “You mean that he wouldn’t think about leaving me behind because of my injury?”

“No. It’s extremely doubtful it would occur to him.”

“Then why wouldn’t he want me to come?”

“He’s extremely protective of you. He would prefer to completely eliminate the possibility of any harm coming to you.”

Reyer smiled and shook her head. “Idiot.”

“Did the captain fail to communicate that to you?”

“No. He did. I guess I wasn’t listening.” She took a deep breath. “I thought he realized I’d be a hindrance and only brought me because he likes me. Now you’re telling me he thought I’d be useful, but he didn’t want to bring me because he likes me.”

“He would have used the word ‘love.’”

Reyer glanced at the figure on the floor. “Yes, he would have.”

When Alix sat back in the chair, she noticed that Lynx was watching her face.

“I’m afraid I’m unable to interpret your current facial expression,” he said.

“Emotions can be complex sometimes, Lynx.”

“I’m aware of that. But you don’t seem to be upset any longer. Does this mean you feel better?”

Reyer snuggled down into her blanket and closed her eyes. “Maybe I do. You won’t let me kick the controls and destroy the ship?”

“As I’ve told you before, Miss Reyer, I will keep watch if it eases your irrational fears.”

Alix smiled. “Thank you, Lynx. You’re good at that.”