Banjin Colle stared at the remains of the planet below on the viewscreen and felt a pang. He’d visited the place a few times before the idiots in research apparently mangled the planet’s magnetic field. Not that he’d known at the time that his government had a serious presence on the planet. He’d only found out about the facility and what had happened there an hour or two earlier. He sighed. It had been an idyllic setting, with temperate weather and a light population. It was the kind of place he envisioned for his eventual faux death and retirement. He never would have chosen this planet. He’d have to pick a place that he’d never been before just to limit the possibility that someone might recognize him. He’d likely end up somewhere like Hasen 5. Those frontier worlds tended to adopt a live-and-let-live approach to most things. If you set up shop in the early days and marked time quietly, you became a community fixture. Nobody asked questions about community fixtures. You just existed, like the wind or the ground.

Before that, though, he needed to deal with the current crisis. Colle resisted the urge to direct perturbed expressions at the ship’s captain. Banjin was on good terms with a handful of fleet captains that he’d worked with repeatedly over the years. Of course, that happened with planned operations. This had been a rush job. They’d sent him the nearest available ship. The ship’s commander had called it a corvette when Banjin first came aboard. It was a bald-faced lie that Banjin hadn’t bothered correcting. It was barely large enough to qualify as a patrol vessel, although it could still pack a punch with its Gauss batteries and twin rail cannons. If he was being generous, Colle might have called it a cutter. Even so, the ship was undermanned. There were perhaps two dozen crew aboard, six of them marines. He’d spoken with the team leaders and learned the ship normally carried only three marines who operated as a fireteam. Apparently, command had found a spare fireteam to drop on board for this mission.

The marines all seemed earnest enough, but terribly young to Banjin’s eyes. He doubted that any of them stood a realistic chance in combat against Captain Rinn. He’d made a point not to grow too attached to them on the short journey to the planet. The ship’s captain was an overeager lieutenant commander named Semmes who thought far too highly of naval doctrine and far too little of intelligence assets. The man had dismissed Colle’s emphatic warnings that they weren’t dealing with a normal freighter captain.

“I’m sure he seemed very formidable to you,” said Semmes. “He won’t be a problem for us.”

Semmes proceeded to order the marines down the planet. He had specifically excluded Banjin from the meeting where he issued his orders. That act alone had left Banjin with a chill in his spine that he couldn’t shake. He feared that Semmes had issued some outrageously ill-conceived orders. Colle would never have sent the marines down to the planet in the first place. The best way to bring Rinn to heel was from a distance, with the overt threat of superior firepower. Rinn wouldn’t kill his entire crew just to prove a point. On the ground, though, the freighter captain was in his element. He could separate the marines and dispatch them one by one. That was assuming he couldn’t or wouldn’t simply take them in a direct assault. Banjin wasn’t at all certain that things wouldn’t play out exactly that way. So, he waited and did his best not to check his watch every ninety seconds. After an hour of interminable waiting, the shuttle that the marines had taken down to the planet reappeared. It was nothing short of miraculous that the weather hadn’t permanently downed the little vessel.

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“You should contact them,” said Colle to Semmes.

“Mister Colle, you are allowed on this bridge only as a sufferance. Persist in your whining and I’ll have you removed. I will speak to the marines when they are back on board.”

Colle gave serious consideration to killing the man for the good of the fleet, to say nothing about the good of the mission. If he did that, though, there would be endless paperwork. He’d probably have to go talk with some admirals as well. That was always tedious. No, he decided that he’d let things play out. He could always kill Semmes later if it became expedient to do so. Banjin took a position out of Semmes’ direct line of sight. The fewer words they exchanged, the less galling nonsense that Colle would need to hear. It took another thirty minutes before two battered-looking marines made their way to the bridge. They looked around uncertainly at the hatch before one of the bridge crew alerted Semmes to their presence. Semmes stood and gestured to a spot in front of him. The marines walked over and took their place. Semmes waited with an expectant look.

“Well?” Semmes demanded.

“Well, what, sir?” Answered one of the marines.

“Wait. Why are you here? Where is your lieutenant?”

The marines exchanged a nervous look before the same man spoke. “He’s dead, sir.”

“Did you say he’s dead?”

“Yes, sir. They’re all dead. They met heavy resistance inside the ship.”

Banjin resisted the urge to roll his eyes while Semmes berated the two marines for incompetence, faulty parentage, and a host of other sins. The spy was confident that neither marine deserved the tirade. After Semmes wound down in his fit of pique, he pointed at the two marines and shouted.

“Did anything go right down there?”

The marines exchanged another look and the second man spoke up. “We captured a prisoner, sir. He’s in the brig.”

Colle’s blood ran cold.

“That’s something at least,” muttered Semmes.

“Did you say you took a prisoner?” asked Banjin.

The marine looked over at him, frowned at the lack of readily identifiable rank, and then nodded. “Yes, sir. We captured him outside the ship.”

Semmes shot Banjin a look that promised dire retribution before he turned back to the marines. “You’re dismissed.”

Banjin was staring at the viewscreen in growing horror at Semmes's stupidity, so he saw the movement before the crew piped up.

“Sir,” said an ensign. “We have a ship on an approach vector.”

“Good,” said Semmes. “I have them where I want them.”

Banjin’s frayed patience snapped. He whirled toward Semmes, crossed the bridge, and backhanded the man across the face.

“You fool! You’ve killed us all, and you don’t even realize it.”

Semmes touched his face in shock before his face darkened nearly to purple in rage. “I will have you executed for this.”

Colle backhanded him again. “You have no idea what you’re dealing with here. You’ve kidnapped someone under the protection of a Warder Under the Night. He’ll hold everyone on this ship responsible. He will stop at nothing to reclaim that person.”

“Captain!” Shouted one of the crew.

Colle and Semmes turned to look at the young woman, who pointed at the screen. Colle turned to look at the screen and saw the approaching ship perform a bizarre maneuver. It swung its tail end around and loose crates and detritus flew out of the open cargo bay.

“What are they doing?” Banjin wondered aloud.

“It’s a distraction,” shouted Semmes. “Ignore all of that. What’s the ship doing?”

On the screen, the Ankala Rising settled into place facing the cutter.