Pan stood atop a dais. Below, two narrow crew pits housed crowded Scaldin. A raised walk bisected their workspace, and another walk led around the bridge’s edge. Everyone continued at their posts.

Pan felt strange to be among so many Scaldin again. She felt an urge to remain and watch them. She almost thought she could, if she stayed still enough. But, Pan needed to sneak away. She took a step, and everyone froze.

“Did you seriously just waltz in here?” A man occupied the dais with Pan. He stared at her with incredulous disgust.

Pan gestured to him. “I know you. Navy man. From the graveyard.”

“Panphila the reaper…” he growled.

“What was your name again? I’m sorry to say I forgot.” Pan smiled and shrugged. She glanced around the bridge. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to let me get aboard my ship again.” Pan pointed at her tug. “You just need to go that way and turn a bit. I want to see inside.” Pan waited. Slowly, her eyes narrowed, and she peered at the man. “Did you always have a beard?”

Navy guy raised his com and called for security. In fact, he called twice, “Security! Reaper on the bridge. Bring the suppressant and the cuffs.”

Pan frowned. She faced the door just as it shot open. Security held that suppressant and some cuffs. She recognized the cuffs as anti-arcane devices. The suppressant was a gun – a big one. Pan recognized that too. Two years ago, the navy man wanted to shoot her with it.

The gun fired.

Pan drew a portal and sent the first shot into the bridge windshield. Pan yanked at the gun. The man wielding it came too. She sent him over her head and crashed him into the navy man.

Technically, they were all navy men – and women – but the bearded one was her navy man, from the past.

“Alban,” Brynn said at her ear. “Alban Hohl.”

The gunman got to his feet.

Pan drew a portal at her back and caught more shots. The shots rent the air above the crew pits. Officers ducked and covered their heads.

Pan met the bearded man’s eyes. “Alban.”

Alban got to his feet. “Now, you remember me.”

Pan turned away.

Alban called, “Reaper.”

Pan ignored him. The cuff bearer crept close. She didn’t have time to chat with Alban. Pan ripped the cuffs from the man’s hands and pushed him aside. He fell into the men and women below. Other security officers stood in Pan’s way, but with a sweep of her hands, Pan parted them. They slid halfway around the semicircular walk.

With a wave to Alban, Pan sighted through the open door and portaled off the bridge. She ran a few steps, portaling some distance between her and those that knew she was aboard. Alban would call others, but for now, he didn’t know where she was.

Pan stopped. She looked around. Her eyes followed winding corridors. Where was she?

“Okay, where do I go?” she asked Brynn.

“You’ve never been on a Scaldin ship before.”

“I have, but just twice. I paid no attention to the layout.”

“That’s fine. They change it from time to time.” Brynn floated ahead. “Follow me. I suggest you move fast. I’ll take you to the hangar. You’re going to have to steal a ship to get to your tug. I have to say this is more interesting than a redo. Carry on.”

Pan growled. She followed Brynn. When Brynn zapped ahead, Pan portaled. When Brynn floated like a madwoman, Pan ran to keep up.

With telekinesis, Pan pushed crew out of her way. Most were unarmed, which made Pan’s job easy. Some just scattered, leaving her a clear route. She knew they called in her location to the mighty Alban, who chased the reaper still. She made his career. His finest achievement would be to obtain her head for his wall.

As Pan copied Brynn’s moves, she wound through a labyrinth. Everything curved and twisted, but few choices branched from the main hall.

Finally, Brynn stopped. She stood at the end of the hall, and Pan arrived at her side.

“You aren’t going to like this.” Brynn smiled. “But, I am.”

Pan saw three Scaldin. They blocked a large, closed door. Arcanes. Young ones. But, what could they do?

“Pan.” A fourth arcane waited to the side – Sotir.

Pan stared, agape. Sotir reached for her and took her arms at the elbows. He pulled her closer and wore an expression halfway between a smile and pain. Pan pushed him away and backed up.

“No, don’t…” Sotir said.

Items from a nearby locker spilt out and headed for Pan.

Telekinetic.

With ease, Pan caught the items. They spun lazily beside her.

“Don’t attack her,” Sotir warned the others.

Fire weaved through the air and snaked towards Pan.

Fire Starter.

So much for Sotir’s warning. The fire starter burned the floor, but that would be acceptable if he caught a reaper.

Pan drew a portal and sighted the telekinetic. She sent the fire just ahead of the young woman. The telekinetic screamed, and the fire starter ceased his attack.

Sotir waited to the side, just out of harm’s way. Pan glanced at him.

“They won’t stop, so you need to,” he said.

Pan shook her head. She still held several items aloft. She threw them back, catching the fire starter in the stomach. He went over, winded but alright.

The last arcane, a young man, closed his eyes and just stood there. Pan knew she should grab him and bang him around a bit, but she was dying to see what he could do.

Pan’s eyes flicked to Sotir. He remained still.

The hall around Pan began to twist and spiral. She fell off her feet and landed on the wall. As she laid, she lifted her head high and tried to discern what had happened. The wall twisted itself to where the floor should be, and the ceiling became a wall. Pan looked back and saw that the hall spiraled, around and around. Pan looked ahead and saw the strange arcane morph the hangar doors into a very narrow, kind of melty portal.

What is he?

Pan looked at Sotir. He had backed away to a safe distance. Pan got to her feet, and the hall untwisted, throwing her back to the floor.

The fire starter recovered himself and sent flames her way.

As fire sped toward her, Pan lay there, but she didn’t lay still. Pan drew a portal and rolled inside. She rolled out behind the young arcanes and kicked the fire starter in the shin. His fire went awry and arrived at the feet of the space-warping boy.

The space-warper beat at his flaming legs. The fire starter fell on to Pan, and as Pan peeked out from under him, she saw sharp tools above. The telekinetic had plans.

The fire starter scrambled to get away, but Pan pulled him back. She hid herself under him, just as the tools fell.

Pan pitied him, and his unfortunate injuries at the hands of his teammate. She nudged the tools to his flanks, arms, and legs. She wouldn’t spare him entirely with a portaled rescue. She needed him out of the fight.

As he got hit with the tools, he cried. Pan pushed the young man off. He had several sharp implements sticking from his shoulder, leg, and arm. One had grazed his flank. He rolled on the floor in pain, and Pan saw guilt and shock in the telekinetic’s face.

Pan jumped to her feet. “That was you.” She pointed at the telekinetic.

“I’d say you had a hand in it, Pan.” Sotir scowled.

The telekinetic girl put a hand over her mouth, too traumatized to try anything else.

A whooping sound rang through the hall, and the floor waved beneath Pan’s feet. She fell. The telekinetic fell. The fire starter vomited. Then, the telekinetic did the same. Pan almost laughed at their shared discomfort. Sotir backed away and missed the ride.

Pan got to her feet and ran to the hangar door. She tripped over waves of metal tile but kept her balance. She found the hangar door a mere sliver. Pan clung to the door and tried to get her fingers between the cracks.

“Locked tight,” Brynn warned. “And too thick. You can’t get through there even if he puts it back the way it was. No portal will see you through. And that lock can keep you out. Alban will keep you out.” Brynn nodded her shadowy chin at the young arcane man. “He looks skinny. Knock him down.”

Pan reached for the space-warper’s shirt.

“Aris!” Sotir warned.

Aris stood on a little oasis, a spot without waves. His eyes remained closed, but he opened them, just in time to watch his view change. Pan tugged on his shirt and pulled him back. Aris landed on the waving floor. His head made an awful sound. He groaned and lay still.

“Not a fighter...yet. Congratulations. You just beat up teenagers.” Brynn smiled.

“Pan!” Sotir stalked close.

Pan ran over still warped deck plates, caught in mid-wave. “That arcane man made a mess of things.”

“You’ve done the same.” Sotir approached with caution. “I won’t let anything really bad happen to you. Come on.”

Brynn whispered, “Go back to the bridge. The ship has turned. I think we have a chance to see your tug. In fact, as soon as I get you back, I can make sure it moves just like we want.”

“Thanks.” Pan took off, dodging Sotir’s arms.

She remembered some of the way, after all, there were few choices to make. She took care to trot over the hills and bumps left in the warped floor. Then, she got out of their range.

“You should take that power,” Brynn said.

“No.” Pan glanced back.

She’d just injured three very young arcanes, probably no older than fifteen. She guessed Alban was taking them on rounds. Though why he would come after a reaper with three children escaped Pan. He must really want Pan for his decor. Perhaps, a rug by his bedside. He seemed like a leather loving man.

Or, maybe, she could blame Sotir for this one. Had he steered the ship her way with quiet, manipulative words? He might want to retrieve his future wife from the galaxy at large – if he still felt the same.

“You know six powers is unlucky. Six is the worst number you can possess.”

“Not this again,” Pan growled. She looked at Brynn as her dead mentor floated beside her. “There is nothing wrong with the number six. You’re superstitious.”

“Seven. That’s what you need.”

Pan scoffed. She met a security team and skidded to a halt. She found them a poor excuse for a challenge. She took their guns, and then, she levitated them to a point behind her. She bumped them against the corridor a bit, but it couldn’t be helped. Pan needed to hurry.

“It’s just straight from here. You know the way, don’t you?” Brynn asked.

“Yeah. Go.” Pan waved her off.

Pan wanted her ship to be waiting for her, in full view. She realized that Brynn probably would take a while to maneuver the ship, even minutely. After all, Brynn was tired from all she’d done before.

Pan rushed to a stop. She expected to find the bridge. Instead, she found heavy, locked doors, and six guards.

Pan almost sent a time message, but she didn’t want to prove Brynn right. Nothing nagged at her more.

The guards leveled their weapons. One held the suppressant gun. Pan yanked their weapons and coms. The coms scattered, but the guns stayed firm in the men’s hands. Bracers on their arms glowed. Their boots stayed firm too, and they fired. They had better anti-telekinetic tools than the Soffigen engineer, and they should, considering Scaldin manufactured telekinetics and anti-telekinetics both.

Pan drew a portal and used it as shield. It sent the shots behind her. That would deter anyone who might sneak up, but she needed to get around these guys. She needed to see outside the bridge.

Pan narrowed her eyes. She couldn’t pick up the men with telekinesis, but she had other ways to transport them. Pan pushed her portal forward. It scooped up the men and spit them out far behind. She imagined a series of portals around the men. Every portal looped back on itself and led inward to the little spot of hallway that she designated as their prison.

Pan cocked her head and took a last look at the shimmery cluster of portals, not quite a sphere. Men’s feet walked back and forth beneath the lower outlines of each portal. One man got low and tried to sneak under. He couldn’t manage.

Pan smiled. She turned away, only to catch movement in the corner of her eye. Pan turned back.

Sotir rounded the mess of portals. “It’s clever, Pan. They’re not much of a match for you. I suppose that’s why you’ve moved on to ships. The only worthy opponent must be a titan in its own right.”

Pan glared. “You’re not a titan, so what are you doing here?”

“I have a prediction to make for you.” Sotir smiled.

Pan glanced at the locked bridge. She needed to get in and fast. Pan faced Sotir. “What is it?”

“You’ll escape.”

Pan frowned. “Why are you so happy about that?”

She glanced at the doors again. A flicker of movement caught her eyes – a screen.

“Who said I was happy?” Sotir raised an eyebrow.

“You smiled. Just a moment ago.” Pan backed against the door and found the screen by her head.

It was a com screen and still showed the interior of the bridge. The person on the other side had been left hanging, with no guards to speak to.

“I may not have combat powers, but that doesn’t mean I can’t match you,” Sotir said.

Pan’s heart pounded. She got that familiar rush from the looming danger of Sotir’s manipulation. She bet she could outpace him still. She focused on the screen. Technically, it showed her a view of the bridge’s interior, a way to bypass the thick, locked door. Pan drew a portal, and the bridge came into view. With wide, satisfied eyes, Pan stepped through.

Pan flung her hands up, and every man, woman, and weapon shot into the air. All except Alban. He remained on the deck, unarmed. However, Pan did take his com.

“I’m back,” Pan announced. “I just need to use your window.” Her face still felt warm, flushed from Sotir’s implication that they were matched.

“Thinking of reaching that tug?” Alban nodded out the view.

The tug puttered merrily into view, but Pan still couldn’t see inside. She frowned.

Her eyes flicked back to Alban. She studied his face. He had a neat, black beard, trimmed short, more of an extended goatee. He wore it like a disguise, and Pan almost hadn’t known him for the person that threatened her arcane-hood two years ago. She disliked any attempts at disguise. They reminded her of Brynn.

Pan took a deep breath. “I don’t mean to hurt any of you. I’m just trying to help the Scaldin, and I can’t do that from a cell.”

Alban stayed quiet. He looked up at his crew who all floated lazily in the air. Most seemed disturbed, but others were curious. One man tried to swim and made a few centimeters of progress. Another reached for a gun. Pan pushed it out of his reach.

“See. All safe.” She gestured to the swimming man. “He’s having fun.”

“He’s trying to get back to his post. He’s never been levitated by a telekinetic before.” Alban shook his head. “You’re not helping us. You’re starting a war.”

Pan frowned. “Would you believe this is all Brynn’s fault?”

“Ha! Brynn’s dead. Don’t blame this on her.” Alban reached for a panel.

Pan nudged him away and gave Alban a taste of life without gravity. Alarm and annoyance flashed across his face. Then, Alban moved away from the panel on his own.

“Can you stay awhile and talk?” Sotir asked.

Pan’s heart quickened. She glanced behind her. Sotir wasn’t on the bridge. His voice came over the com.

Alban raised his hands. “I can’t answer. You won’t let me touch anything. Why don’t you answer him?”

She looked at Alban and noticed a pair of cuffs in his other hand. She shook her head and looked back at her tug.

It still puttered.

Pan said, “I’m not doing this because I want to. I’m doing it because Brynn haunts me.”

Alban nodded. “Oh, really? You’re going to blame your actions on a ghost?”

“Why not? I’m a ghost seer.”

Alban’s eyes narrowed.

“I’ve killed only one woman, and I’m paying for it. You act like I murdered half of Scaldigir.” Pan still waited for her tug.

Alban stared hard. “You’ve killed a lot more than one woman. You’re getting Scaldigir into trouble for no good reason.”

In part, Pan agreed. She didn’t understand what Brynn wanted, and it seemed this time, Brynn hadn’t been so thorough. Brynn assured Pan each time that no personnel were aboard the Soffigen ships. They scared everyone off before they set them adrift or aflame. At least, they were supposed to.

“I know. It’s not my idea.” Pan grit her teeth.

Alban paused.

Sotir’s voice came over the com again. “Pan, let’s save some time. You stay aboard the Ischyros.”

Pan shook her head. She would outpace him and his predictions. She counted on it.

Alban checked on her tug. “Just a little while till someone unlocks the door. I wonder if your tug will make it. Where did you get it by the way? Spaceport? That’s where the majority of tugs come from.” Alban nodded out the window. Then, he shook his head. “I’m surprised we’re back to this kind of thing. I thought you’d graduated to something more.”

Graduated?

The Soffigen ship floated free of its space dock. A small ship towed it, moving it away from the dock before it could explode. Pan could see the light of flames in the windows.

“We could get a lot farther,” Alban warned. “You’re holding us here, and they’re trying to save the dock. They’ll get closer to us.”

“Then, just turn the ship, so I can see my tug. I’ll leave, and you can be on your way.” Pan glanced out the window. Her eyes widened. Her tug was close. “Never mind. I’ll do it myself.” She reached for her ship and twisted it. It turned a little too far, but Pan could see the cockpit. She drew her portal, let the crew down gently, and stepped through.

“How long were you going to chat with them?” Brynn fizzled in and out of view.

“I’ll talk to whoever I please.” Pan worked the controls, the ship hummed away, beginning its escape.

Alban’s larger ship followed, moving out of danger.

Pan input her superliminal path.

“No! No! They’ll catch you on that path.” Brynn reached cold hands into the controls. Her spectral touch moved through Pan.

Pan yelped.

“Change it,” Brynn growled. Red filled her eyes.

Pan deleted some of the path and struggled to put it right, not knowing the best route of escape. The tug continued to drift forward, and Alban’s ship kept pace.

In Pan’s rear-view camera, she saw the Soffigen ship explode. The Soffigen tug hurtled away, damaged but in one piece. Alban’s ship and her own tug didn’t even feel the explosion. A small piece of space dock floated free.

“Well, they’re undamaged. Good luck with your escape,” Brynn said.

Pan turned to see Brynn gone. She’d left Pan without a path!

“Brynn!”

Pan turned to her navigation screens. As she worked, she put distance between herself and Alban. On a nearby, idle screen, she saw a path waiting for her, not quite complete. Pan silently thanked Brynn and input the path. She got ready to start the superliminal engine.

Her ship jerked. Pan sighed. She knew Alban had a hold on her.

He called, “Pan, you’ve shown great restraint in not harming my crew, all except the arcanes, of course. Let us capture you, and we’ll do our best to shield you from the Soffigen. You’re correct that some of your help has been appreciated but not most.”

Way to make me feel wanted.

Pan revved her engine, and her tug moved forward. Alban’s ship dragged along behind.

Pan hit the com. “I think you’ll find that my little ship is of a rather mighty persuasion, as children’s literature suggests.”

“I know, but so is mine.”

Pan’s little tug stopped. Then, she felt herself drawn backwards. What did Alban have that could tractor her tug? More importantly, how did Brynn know Alban’s name? They never met.

“Panphila Ithir of Grau. Let’s go home. As Scaldigir’s only surviving reaper, I’m sure someone will be eager to preserve you.”

“Disappointed?” Pan concentrated on her ship. One hand she placed on the superliminal button. The other she rested on the helm.

“That you’ll be living through this? No. We’ve got new ways to contain you, and you’ve been thoroughly entertaining this past year, even if I lost some sleep over your antics.”

Under the influence of her telekinesis, Pan’s ship started to shake. “I thought you wanted me as a rug for your bedside.”

The com crackled. Alban might have laughed. “You’re too small for that. I think you’d make a much better coatrack. We just have to petrify you.”

Pan’s ship faltered, but she ignored Alban and worked harder to break her ship free. Like a ball in a slingshot, Pan suddenly sped ahead. She activated her superliminal engine and worried that she might have moved just enough to affect the pre-programmed path.

Oops.

Pan rested in the cockpit. She turned her chair around and faced away from the windshield. She looked up. Brynn floated before her.

“You botched that.” Brynn smiled. “You could have just redone it. You might have to yet. The engines are damaged. I’m not sure how. I thought you got a good distance from the explosion. Maybe, someone sabotaged them, or maybe, they’re just getting old.” Brynn crossed her arms.

“You know what’s wrong with the engines?” Pan leaned forward. “They aren’t designed for this. I shouldn’t be doing any of this. Now, I’m stranded.”

Brynn regarded Pan with blue eyes. “You do seem to be…stranded. Shall I find you a rescue? Or, do we go back?”

Pan bit her lower lip. She thought that if she used the time message, Sotir might have an easier way to catch her. He was on her trail, and if she redid the sabotage and all went smooth, he might catch her at the way station or worse, send her fleeing across space. That moment, lost on some path, she didn’t know where she was, so he couldn’t. They’d keep things the way they’d turned out – for now.

“This situation isn’t so bad to warrant a redo.”

Brynn shrugged. “Okay. Would you like to set a distress beacon? I think it’ll call Sotir and the Ischyros down on you, but maybe you prefer that.”

“I would not. Go, find someone.” Pan waved Brynn off.

“Might take me a while. I need more energy, and I can’t draw from your reserves.”

“However long it takes.” Pan drew one leg up and wrapped her arms around it. “Oh wait.”

Brynn ceased her slow fade. “Yes?”

“How did you know Alban’s name?” Pan put her chin on her upraised knee. She felt her brow furrow. “Actually, how do you know a lot of the things that you know?”

“I don’t remember how I got the name.” Brynn looked at Pan and then disappeared.

Pan sat back in her chair. She kept her fingers laced around her calf. She had a long wait ahead of her. In that time, she could puzzle out Brynn’s growing lucidity, or she could think of Sotir. He had plans for her still, and now that he had her trail, they would have a game.