Rooks sat at her desk; Alban at his. They were a ship apart, with her on the Fauchard and him on the Ischyros, but their voices bridged the gap.

Outside, in the lonely Volanter space, a graveyard of wrecked ships waited.

“I have a few historians, but I’m not keen on sending any over,” Alban said.

“This is a good chance to learn about the Volanter. One of those ships belongs – belonged – to them.” Rooks spun her chair side to side, a habit from her days vacationing with her dad. She’d loved the swiveling chairs they found in hotels.

“But the rest of those ships belonged to someone else. You know what it looks like to me?” Alban paused. “A trap. An elaborate trap.”

Rooks could concede that point. The graveyard lay under a shroud, magically hidden from sensors. Thanks to Sotir they hadn’t stumbled through it, but instead, stopped just in time. The young man’s warning saved their ships and their lives.

Rooks glanced out her window. She could just see the edge of the graveyard – random ships floating in space. “How much time before the Volanter come here? Do we have an estimate on that?”

Alban exhaled. “Sotir guesses between one and two weeks. They can’t call other clans. They’re out of range, so the only ones who know about us are the Bacchan ships we left alive. And, they’re damaged. Hopefully, they’ll be cocky and move slow – if they think the trap caught us.”

Rooks leaned towards the com speaker. “That sounds very optimistic to me. This is a big opportunity. It’s our chance to poke around one of their ships before they start to estimate our abilities more accurately.”

Alban remained silent.

“I’ll send the team. You can keep your crew aboard the Ischyros,” Rooks offered. “We want to study the ship, so we’ll take the risk.”

“Can your people do it in a few hours? I’ll agree to it – if the detour is short.”

Rooks felt her eyes narrow. She could ask Camellia and Florian how much time they needed to make an archaeological study. At first, they would give her the long answer – weeks, months…years. But, if she told them to do it in a handful of hours, they would make it happen.

“Let’s say six hours.” Rooks folded her hands and waited.

“I agree to six. Then, we go back to running. I don’t know how worthwhile it is to research a group of people we plan never to encounter again.” Alban sighed. “Though, they might encounter us.”

“So true,” Rooks agreed. “That’s why I want to do this research.” Rooks reached for her com, about to wish Alban a pleasant six hours.

“Let me ask you something,” Alban said.

Rooks withdrew her hand from the com. “What?”

“What do you think would make a good symbol for the Scaldin people? I’m thinking of petitioning against the runes and tree when I get home. But, I need to offer something enticing in their places.”

Rooks smiled. “Are you joking?”

“No.” He might not be joking but playful seemed like a close match.

“I can’t help you,” Rooks said. “I still have to figure out a symbol to unite my Iruedian navy. We’re a mish mash of ships.”

“Simple. The wormhole,” Alban said.

Rooks laughed. “I guess you didn’t get a good look at it. It’s easy to miss. Just a bubble really.”

“Hmmmm.” The scratch of a beard came over the com. “You wouldn’t want someone to mistake your respectable military symbol for a representation of bath-time.”

“No.” Rooks shook her head. She smiled.

When it came to a united Iruedian symbol, she had a dozen suggestions. So far, she liked the stylized map of Iruedim, but she really didn’t want to put a map of their planet in plain view. Someone suggested a galaxy, but it made little sense, considering that was the one thing that Iruedim lacked. All other symbols represented specific countries, and none represented the peoples as a whole. She wished she had a symbol as simple as the Mother Tree or even Volanter runes.

“I have it,” Alban said.

Rooks felt her eyebrows rise. “Know what you’re going to suggest?”

“For Iruedim – yes. You should make a stylized wormhole. Maybe it can be a spiral.” Alban’s chair squeaked over the com as he shifted in his seat. “I’m surprised none of your people thought of it.”

Rooks sighed. “They did actually, but in some cultures that spiral stands for fertility.”

A moment of silence followed.

Rooks told Alban, “You don’t know how lucky you are to have this all sorted out.”

“Maybe. Well, you need to get your crew to work. Alban out.” Alban cut the communication.

Rooks tapped her com off and rose from her seat. It was time she found her anthropologists.

“This is going to take some getting used to.” Camellia pulled at her space suit. She didn’t like how the fabric crinkled, and she didn’t like that it was close fitting, enough to show off parts of her she preferred to hide. She especially didn’t like the helmet, which squished her hair against the back of her head and gave her a limited view of her surroundings.

Meladee popped her helmet on, with a hiss. “This might be worse than that time that we had to wear bathing suits.”

The shape of Meladee’s figure lay revealed, from her shortish legs to her wide hips and small chest. The suit left nothing to the imagination.

Camellia’s panic rose. Her heart pounded. She glanced down and was disturbed by her own bits on display. Camellia looked back up.

“Don’t worry. You look hot.” Meladee gave the thumbs up and spoke through the weird helmet intercom. “This is definitely worse than the bathing suits though. This suit’s one heavy fucker.”

Inez, with her wide yet relatively flat build, emerged from around a locker. She growled and removed her helmet. Inez pushed her braid out of her mouth and jammed the helmet back in place.

“Better get comfy. Can’t do that in space.” Meladee waved her hands to accentuate the dangers of space.

“I normally put my braid down my back, but I can’t do that in this suit. It keeps creeping around to my face. Do you know what I mean?” Inez studied Meladee.

Meladee kept her blond hair short, just at shoulder level. Her hair was straight and hung mostly where it should. Meladee shrugged. “Can’t say that I do.”

Camellia pointed to the back of her own head. “I pinned my hair close to my skull. You should do the same.”

Inez’s eyes widened. “I don’t have any pins. Do you have extra?”

Camellia shook her head. “I’m afraid my hair has swallowed them all.”

“Damn.” Inez breathed.

“Come on girls,” Benham called. He waited at the door to their changing room.

Meladee put her hands on her hips and, in a mocking tone, said, “We could have been naked.”

Benham stifled a laugh. “Look. Rooks wants us to get going. We’re burning study time.”

Camellia hurried for the door. Inez chased her, possibly to beg for a few hairpins, possibly because she felt the urge to study. Meladee followed last. She fairly sauntered her way to the exit.

They exited the changing room into the main bay. Rooks stood beside the shuttle, lucky to be in her regular clothes.

Florian waited at Rooks’ side. He fiddled with the cuffs of his spacesuit as if missing the pronounced cuff of his usual coat. Eder, looking tall and very thin, crossed his arms and slouched. The two were a picture of perfect discomfort.

“Worst thing you ever wore?” Inez asked her brother.

“How’d you guess?” Eder seemed to hunch lower. “I don’t know how this thing is supposed to protect us from space.”

“They work just as intended,” Rooks promised, with a smile. “Breaks in the suits are rare, and they’ve saved many a pilot’s life. Now, the sexual harassment incidents that result from space walk excursions are a whole different story. But, I trust that sexual harassment won’t be on your minds.” Rooks regarded her little team. “You’ve got six hours once you get inside. Stay safe and move quickly. I want you to remain in one large group, as much as possible. If you do split up, all teams need a direct line to the bridge. Don’t deactivate and assume that someone else will pick up the slack.” Rooks eyes moved over the team. “Any questions?”

“No,” Florian said, with a shake of his head.

“Get to it. We’ve already wasted forty minutes of time. Never mind that we supposedly have a couple of weeks.” Rooks smacked the side of the shuttle lightly. “Good luck.” Then, she strode away.

Florian put a hand on Eder’s shoulder and spoke low. “Do you want to get out of this? I’m sure Rooks would let you sit this out. We have enough eyes to catch anything magical aboard the ship. Or, we could get a battle mage to come in your place.”

Eder glanced after Rooks, wide-eyed. He shook his head. “No. I don’t want to be the reason for delay. Besides, none of the battle mages are magical scholars. I have to go. We’re the only experienced spell writers aboard ship.”

Benham pulled himself into the shuttle doorway. “I’ll keep you all safe. And, we’ll have a few guards, and we’ll have our wonderful Meladee. We shouldn’t miss a chance to do some scouting.”

Scouting was what Benham did best. Magic was what Inez, Eder, and Meladee did best. As for Camellia and Florian, they were going aboard to do some archaeology.

Camellia followed Florian onto the shuttle.

Florian looked at his wrist but didn’t pull at the cloth. “I thought underwater archaeology was hard. This is much worse.”

“I wish we could just use those bracelets that Inez and Eder made for you to breathe underwater.” Camellia kept her eyes down and watched each step. The magnets on the ends of her boots felt heavy to pull away from the deck, even with her vampiric boost from the lack of starlight.

“Those bracelets would be nice, but they’re no match for space. Not to mention, why have Inez and Eder work when we have a viable alternative already?” Florian plopped into his seat.

Camellia took the place next to him. As the others filed into their places, she thought of Cernunnos and how he would have loved this kind of excursion. He loved anything new and different. He was a collector of experience.

She’d thought of him again. Camellia counted the times his name passed through her memory. It was certainly more than once a week now.

The click of a helmet distracted Camellia from her thoughts. Inez held her helmet, and with the help of Eder, they wound Inez’s braid around her neck. She stuck her helmet back on, and Meladee laughed.

Inez glared around the shuttle.

Camellia assured her, “It’s very resourceful.”