Kalan woke up the next day with a profound feeling of relief. He understood the necessity of what he’d put Fresia through, but he’d despised it. It had never once occurred to him that it was nearly as much of a psychological trial to inflict such an experience as it was to endure it. He checked in with the ship. The AI told him that Fresia was still in her quarters and still in a deep, deep sleep. Kalan took the time to fix a tray of food for the girl and left it in her quarters. She’d be ravenous whenever she did finally wake up. He didn’t see any need to make her go looking for food. With that task out of the way, he checked in on the bridge.

“Do we have an estimated time of arrival, Em?”

“Current projections put our arrival at approximately five hours from now, Captain.”

“Thank you, Em,” said Kalan, before he called out. “Kala?”

The AI’s disembodied voice responded, “Yes, Captain?”

“When we arrive, would you be so kind as to make friends with the base’s networks and systems?”

“To what end, Captain?”

“I just want to make sure we know what we’re stepping into before we land. I don’t want to have to fight our way out unless it’s absolutely unavoidable.”

“Are you expecting trouble?” The ship asked.

“No,” said Kalan. “But I’ve been on relief missions before. If people start thinking everyone is going to die, they start looking for some way, any way, to get off the planet or station.”

“It’s a treatable condition.”

“We both know that, but it doesn’t mean everyone down there will believe it. A lightly crewed freighter can look tempting to desperate eyes.”

“Understood, Captain. I will make friends with their systems on arrival.”

“Thank you, Kala.”

With those concerns dealt with for the moment, or as dealt with as Kalan could make them before they actually arrived, he went down to the cargo bay. He methodically went through the bay and made sure all of the containers were locked down tight. He didn’t want one of them breaking open if they had a bumpy entry. Em was very good about keeping the ride smooth, but planetary weather was so unpredictable that Kalan felt a dose of prevention was better than any amount of cure. He wanted to chide himself for paranoia. He hadn’t started feeling nervous about this delivery until last night. Now, he was wondering if he’d just been too distracted with Fresia’s training to notice the underlying unease he felt.

He spent the next several hours trying and failing to push down those feelings, but they persisted. After losing an argument with himself, he went to a compartment he normally kept sealed. He went in and gave the weapons lining the walls a grim look.

“Better to be wrong and feel a little foolish,” he said to himself, before grabbing a handful of blasters.

He went down to engineering first. He’d had mixed feelings about Petronan, but the engine efficiency had been so high lately that he was starting to wonder how the man was pulling it off. He found the engineer idly tapping at a projected display and quietly muttering about plasma flows. Petronan was a tall, spare man, with long, nimble fingers. His short, dark hair and neatly trimmed beard were shot through with flecks of silver. Kalan hadn’t spent much time with the man. He’d hired him on reputation. Now, Kalan wished he knew the engineer better so he could better anticipate how Petronan would react under pressure. The engineer finally noticed Kalan standing at the hatch and stood up so fast that he almost knocked over a mug of something.

“Sir,” said Petronan, “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I should have called down. Just slipped my mind.”

Petronan eyed the blasters in Kalan’s hand with an unhappy expression. “We in some kind of trouble, sir?”

“I don’t think so. I just want everyone to be ready in case we run into a problem on Ariadne.”

Kalan held out one of the blasters to the engineer who grimaced a little but took the weapon. To Kalan’s surprise and mild relief, the engineer checked the safety, slid the battery free to check the charge, and then set the blaster within easy reach of his seat. He gave Kalan a firm nod.

“I’ll do what’s needed, sir. Hoped I’d left all that behind, but I guess you never really do as long as you fly the empty.”

“Very good, Petronan. Also, I’ve been meaning to commend you on the engine’s recent performance. It’s been exemplary.”

The engineer stood up straighter and a small smile danced around the corners of his mouth. “Thank you, sir.”

“Mind if I ask what changed?”

“Heard what happened to the Pride, sir. Woke me right up. If we come across raiders, I figure our best chance is running away. Can’t do that if the engine isn’t up to the task.”

“What rank you were?”

Petronan snorted. “That obvious?”

“You’ve called me “sir” at least five times since I got here. Most people just call me captain.”

“I was a chief in the Kesselian Alliance Navy, sir. I’m basically doing the same job,” said Petronan. “Although, the food and hours are a lot better here.”

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“Glad to hear that. How about the pay?”

“There’s a lot more to life than pay.”

“How’s that?”

“Well, sir, there’s good ships, good captains, and, every once in a while, you get good captains on good ships. This is one of them.”

“I appreciate you saying that, chief. But what makes you say that?”

Petronan gathered his thoughts, seemed to weigh Kalan with his eyes, and then pressed on. “Since I’ve been aboard, you haven’t come down here and yelled at me once about something I couldn’t have prevented or predicted. When I tell you some part will need a replacement within the month, you don’t assume you know my job better than I do. You ask the questions that any sane captain should, and then you tell me to order the part. You haven’t asked me to do anything stupid or illegal since I’ve been aboard. Seems like you work hard to keep us all out of danger. I can’t speak for anyone else, but I appreciate that. I know you don’t usually keep engineers aboard for more than six months, sir, but I hope you’ll consider keeping me. I’d like to stay.”

Kalan digested all of that for a moment before he nodded. “Keep on the way you have been recently, chief, and there’s a good chance I will.”

“I appreciate it, sir.”

“Carry on, chief.”

Kalan left Petronan to mutter over his projected display and headed back to the cargo bay. He called for Kala, who manifested almost immediately. She gave the blasters in his hand a speculative look.

“Are those for me?” She asked.

“I hope not,” said Kalan. “If it comes down to it, though, I may need your help to defend us.”

“Very well, captain. If it comes down to it, I will assist you.”

“Gratitude.”

The AI seemed momentarily distracted before she said, “We’re going to arrive shortly.”

“Thank you. I’ll head to the bridge.”

Kalan headed back to the bridge and settled into his chair. After they exited the wormhole, Em set about navigating toward the planet and carrying on the usual discussions with the docking systems at the base. As they approached the atmosphere, Kalan made a decision.

“Em, let’s keep this approach nice and leisurely. Give Kala some time to talk with the systems down there.”

“Yes, captain,” said Em.

“Who’s Kala?”

Kalan’s head snapped around to find a yawning Fresia standing right beside his chair. She blinked at the viewscreen a few times, yawned again, and then blinked at Kalan.

“We can talk about it later,” said Kalan. “You should take a seat. We’re going to hit atmosphere soon. It can get bumpy.”

Fresia yawned yet again, nodded, and then went over to her usual seat. Kalan wasn’t entirely convinced Fresia was really even awake. The girl slumped with boneless ease in her seat and seemed like she could fall asleep again at any moment. Kalan sighed. He’d send her back to her quarters, but he didn’t want her wandering the corridors while they navigated in atmo. As they neared the base, Kalan stood.

“Fresia, please keep Em company while I go see to the unloading.”

Fresia moved a hand in a limp gesture that could have meant anything, but Kalan took it as assent. After leaving the bridge, he opened a comm channel down to engineering and asked Petronan to meet him in the cargo bay. Then, he addressed the ship.

“Anything interesting to tell me, Kala?”

The ship didn’t respond for a full five seconds, which made Kalan come to a dead stop. “Kala?”

“We should be cautious, captain. The systems down there are in bad shape. Some are offline. Others are behaving erratically.”

“Duly noted.”

Kalan adjusted the weapon belt he’d been wearing more and more frequently. As he approached the cargo bay, he checked that both the blaster and sword would come free easily. He didn’t want a fight, but he wasn’t going to surrender the ship without one, either. He felt the ship settle onto the ground. A few moments later, Em came over the comms.

“They say they’re ready, captain.”

Petronan stepped into the cargo bay and took up station next to Kalan. “How are we doing, sir?”

“Expect trouble,” said Kalan, pulling his blaster free. “Kala, open the bay doors.”

The bay doors opened, and Kalan found himself staring down a group of around twenty people. Most of them looked ill. Every one of them wore an expression that was some combination of fear, anger, and commitment. All of them were armed, though most of them only bore heavy hand tools. Kalan took a deep, resigned breath. He was probably going to have to kill at least a few of those people. He glanced over at Petronan. The man looked as resigned as Kalan felt. He suspected this wasn’t the first time the chief had faced down some kind of violence. A heavyset woman with what looked like a projectile rifle stepped forward.

“Captain,” she said. “I’m sorry, but you’re going take us off this gods forsaken rock or we’ll take your ship.”

Kalan didn’t want to escalate the situation, but he also didn’t want to give them the slightest impression that he was going to give them what they wanted. He took measured steps until he reached the ramp. Then, he aimed his blaster directly at the heavyset woman’s face.

“This woman has declared her intention to commit an act of piracy. A crime punishable by immediate death under interstellar law. I’m going to execute her.”

The woman apparently realized that Kalan meant it because she started stammering. “Wait, wait, we can talk…”

Kalan carried on without acknowledging her. “Anyone who attempts to approach this ship or impede that execution will be considered accessories. A crime also punishable by immediate death. I will forget anyone who drops their weapons and leaves right now.”

The crowd stared at him in stunned silence. Apparently, this wasn’t how the woman had told them this would play out. Petronan, the gods bless him, stepped up beside Kalan and bellowed a single word.

“Go!”

That bellowed word triggered something in their illness-damaged minds. The crowd scattered amid a clattering of tools and weapons dropping to the ground. The heavyset woman tried to join them, but Kalan took a step forward and said, “Not you.”

Once the rest of the crowd had vanished, Kalan closed on the woman, who looked like she was aging by the second. Kalan glanced down at the weapon she still clutched in her hands. She followed his eyes and seemed startled to find it in her hands. She dropped it with a jerk. She looked back up into Kalan’s face and didn’t like what she found there. She started to back away.

“How many?” He asked.

“What?” She almost screamed.

“How many people did you kill here?”

“I, I, I,” she stammered, but the guilt was written large across her face.

“How many innocent people did you murder?”

Kalan was vaguely aware that he was hurling the words at the woman through clenched teeth. He couldn’t even hear what she was saying. She’d fallen to her knees and clasped her hands in front of her. He could see her mouth moving, but it didn’t matter anymore. He was going to end her life, just like he said he would. He holstered the blaster and unsheathed his sword. The whites shone around the woman’s eyes as she realized he intended to execute her the old-fashioned way. He lifted the blade.

“Kalan,” said a frightened voice.

The sound of his name in that tone brought him up short. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Fresia standing there, her eyes almost as wide as the woman on the ground. The part of him that was in a rage demanded that he execute the woman. She’d have shown them no mercy. He was certain of that. There was even a lesson here for Fresia to learn. The part of him that was her teacher asked, very calmly, if this was the right time for that lesson. He stood there, perfectly balanced between the choices.

“Please,” said Fresia. “Please don’t.”

Kalan choked back the rage enough to look at the woman on the ground and rasp, “Get out of my sight.”

He watched the woman scramble to her feet and flee toward the base before he stalked away from his ship, trying to get himself under control again. He heard Petronan in the background.

“Oh child, you should have let him finish what he started. That woman didn’t deserve your mercy.”