In between each jump the words of father echo through my mind. Don’t double-cross me, lest the next time we meet it will be in hell! A part of me is shocked he would consider the possibility that I might betray the Year 217 Mafia—now of all times! If all that man is capable of is paranoia about others double-crossing them then perhaps the regime is better off collapsing. Maybe a change of power is needed after all. Father has grown too spineless to effectively defend the Mafia from the Federation or even colonial incursions. If the Mafia hopes to survive and adapt through these challenging times it needs leadership that can mediate with the Federation incursion and mitigate the loss of life.

…And yet, with each passing jump, I began realizing that this form of thinking is precisely why father is so paranoid about a military coup. It should only be a given theDon would have such a hostile attitude towards anyone who steadily gains influence. Rather said influence is in the form of politics or military prowess—either are capable of challenging his authority.

Of course, at present, there are no real candidates other than Simon and myself. Even narrowing it down further, I stand at the helm of the majority of our fleet. Even if I stood alone against all the other parties—notwithstanding the presence of the Federation—the odds are still in my favor. Even if there were more ambitious leadership—even one who shared a similar unlikable relationship with father, would jump at the opportunity to seize power and establish his or her Year 220 Mafia.

Father should be glad that no such character has volunteered for this task. I might be the most concerning thorn for him, but there are wolves behind his back that would, without hesitation, be more than willing to throw him under the bus and declare themselves the Don of a new mafia. From there, I expect we would see lieutenants from even the Ides and Modon star zones throwing up mafia regimes of their own… or collaborate with the Federation to save their hides.

Of course, this is very well a scenario that could happen rather it is me or another individual that attempts a coup at side Brunsbüttel . But even if they decided to oppose me in some capacity, I would still have the initial edge. Stretched out for sure, but subduing them would only be a migraine at most.

And as for Che…

It’s hard to contemplate what Che’s angle could be in all of this, notwithstanding his current besiegement. He’s not the sort to have any particular political ambition. Che is already favored by our father and is more likely to succeed when the Don dies. That’s something not even I could doubt. Che has virtually no reason to turn on our father, lest the Don decides to pass on power to Simon of all people—which could sow the seeds of civil war in any case—or Simon sees him as inept and acts on his initiative.

If either Simon or I try to assume power, Che would most likely stand against us… well, by us, I mean…

Simon…

What would Simon do if I attempt to seize power? Would he stand with or against me?

If Simon were to—by some chance—ever rouse the idea of sparing unnecessary losses, he could attempt to negotiate with Federation forces for amenity. I would be all for it.

…But for Simon that would require betraying his oath brother. I do no doubt it’s a choice he couldn’t bring himself to do, much less one he could consider lightly. If I were in Simon’s shoes it’s not something I could see myself doing, either, if it was the case with Olga and I. But surely Simon would see that there is an alternative to shedding bloodshed? I have no doubt that under Simon’s leadership we could strive for coexistence with the Federation—and even see Toscana as a reincorporated state in the Federation.

In fact…

What would Simon do?

Each jump brings us ever closer to Lübeck. Each time I regain consciousness the same scene plays out in my mind. The same memory of father warning me of what happens if I betray him.

Surely it was not an empty threat. I could not put it past my father to give confidential orders to Simon to reprimand anyone that attempted to capitalize on father’s absence—even if that someone was me.

To be Simon and be placed between a rock and a hard place like that would be haunting for anyone else. To choose between the one you have a lifelong oath to and the one you hold dear. The very thought makes my stomach turn.

My sustained train of thoughts is interrupted by the buzzing of the intercom across from me on my oak desk.

Ignoring the whining intercom, for now, I make my way to the nearest circular porthole and peer into it. The imposing sight of the O’Vertame Cylinder Cluster is one to behold. Several of them rotate in unison at a slow rate. Underneath the Cluster, there is the gigantic pale blue planet of Lübeck that encompasses most of the background. In the far distance, one could make out Cluster colonies at Lübeck’s various Lagrange points.

The nearest Cluster must be the capital one. From this distance, I can make out a blanket of debris composed of an uneven mix of steel and soil that seems to have spewed from what I can only imagine is the capital; Side Brunsbüttel. Dotted around it is the odd number of shuttles attempting to either collect the rubble or patch upBrunsbüttel’s exterior.

So, what Sergi mentioned is correct after all. From the looks of it, Che’s hurried messenger did punch through an exposed side of the Brunsbüttel. Honestly, I’m impressed the messenger even lived through the impact to tell Simon of the ongoing calamity at the Valspon system… assuming he did perish, anyway. Either way, it shows that he has unyielding resolve in the task given him, and I greatly appreciate his contribution. If I were to ever see him after this debacle ends, I will make sure to thank him when that time comes.

The intercom, with it’s grating one tune buzz, has never once let up. Goodness! Whoever is calling is persistent. They should know I do not like being disrupted by such devices.

I make my way towards the oak desk and lean over to activate the intercom.

“Speak.”

“Ah, Madame! Sergi wishes to inform you your presence is needed on the—”

It’s the voice of Olga. But I can’t be bothered to listen to what she has to say right now.

“—Sorry, Olga, but I want to be left alone, at least for a little longer, but…”

“… Madame ?” She sounds a bit hurt. That makes me a bit hurt.

I stare down at the intercom as if to look through it at Olga herself. Maybe what I need right now is another head to throw my thoughts to. I’m sure Olga would only agree with me with whatever I may say, but…

Or maybe I should ask for Sergi’s company. Knowing Olga she would, without hesitation, jump the gun on a coup led by me after I share my thoughts with her. Who knows what she is capable of doing to ensure that my will is imposed on the people of Lübeck.

On the other hand, Sergi would be a more cautious candidate. He is not the one to criticize me for my actions these days, but at least having another like-minded individual will give me insight on how a coup might benefit us.

No offense to you, Olga. But…

Initiating a coup would probably lead to a firefight in some way or another if Simon does indeed stage a resistance. I would not want to put Olga in danger—even if I didinstruct her to stay with the fleet wh—

“Madame? Are you still there?”

Oh, goodness. I left poor Olga hanging. I suppose it doesn’t hurt to invite her over, at least for a little while.

“—My apologies, Olga, if you could… pick up a bottle of alcohol and entertain me for a little while.”

“…Right away, Madame. Do you have any preferences? I believe Sergi stocked up on a wide variety before we originally departed from Brunsbüttel a month ago.”

Preference?… I’ve never been the one to partake in such poisonous liquid. I tried it once at Sergi’s suggestion some years ago, and the taste was bitter. Since then I’ve stuck to the likes of tea.

“…Pick out what you like, Olga.”

“W-what I like? If you wish, Madame…” Olga sounds a bit surprised but ends transmission soon after.

Maybe a talk with Olga over some alcohol is what I need right now. The consumption of such when it comes to important decision making dates back to the ancient bustling days of Terra, or so Simon says. There were even cases where I witnessed my father and Simon discuss tactics over a bottle or thrice.

I’m just continuing the human tradition of such. Many years ago, a wise man once said that alcohol is man’s best friend.

A knock at the door.

“Olga? Come in.”

With a whoosh, the door slides open. The amazon blonde steps into the cabin holding a faded brown tray with a bucket of ice in it, and two palm-sized glass cups. Sticking out of the container was a single white bottle with a clear liquid.

“Where do you want me to set it down, Madame?” Olga asks with those rare lively brown eyes of hers.

“Ah… yes, you can set it down on the coffee table over there.” I point to a small table situated between two red leather sofas. As Olga sets it down in the middle of the table, I seat myself on one of them; Olga sits down on the one facing me.

“Hmm? This drink…” I peer closer to give the tall bottle a closer look. It was so transparent and unlike the dark muddily ones I’ve seen before.

“It’s Ruthenian vodka, Madame. Have you tried it before?”

“Vod—ka?” I scrunch my eyebrows in puzzlement. “I cannot say I have, or heard of it before for that matter. What about you, Olga? Have you consumed this sort before?”

Olga shakes her head. “Only partially. I’ve never been the one to drink with the others… and consuming it alone only makes loneliness more bitter. But if it’s with you I wouldn’t mind consuming a fair bit.”

Olga removes the cap of the bottle and fills each of our cups halfway.

“Would you like some ice in yours, Madame?”

“A few would not hurt.”

Olga takes two icy cubes from the bucket and carefully drops them into my glass. She slides it across the table towards me, the cubes swivel around as she does so.

I give it a gentle stroke all over. It’s freezing to the touch as one would expect. I pick it up but do not drink from the glass yet. Looking over at Olga, she takes a few sips from her cup, and although my eyes were possibly deceiving me, she winces at the taste.

I bring the glass to my lips to sample a taste from mine. But before drinking, I try to smell the contents but pick up no odor.

Ah, well…

Still not too sure about drinking too much, I only sample a few sips from the glass. And surprisingly… I experience no taste, at least not at first. But oddly enough there is, for lack of a better word, an unpleasant aftertaste that I can only describe as slimy.

“…Just what is this exactly?” I ask out loud. “How can Simon and others drink this rubbish?”

Olga can’t help but chuckle. “I suppose there is a reason why the men, even master Simon, avoid this kind of brand. It’s the one drink that is a regulator in our fridges.”

With each sip, I feel like the tasteless taste only becomes more evident. But I have to pause after only a few gulps—my head feels slightly empty.

I still have to maintain composure if I am to strike at the Federation in Valspon. I can’t risk getting too drunk and embarrassing myself in front of my men. Should I be addressing Olga with a drunken mindset, or would it be better to make a rational decision while I’m still under a clear mind? I don’t believe I could ever understand the mentality of drinking before pivotal moments of history. Although I suppose there is the charm of loosening yourself in mind and body.

“Olga…” Exercising some self-control while I still, I promptly set down the still yet half-filled glass on a coaster.

Should I permit Olga to drink any more? I need her as sober as I am for the pending campaign. Yet…

Maybe it wouldn’t hurt for her and the men to relax while they still can. We are, more or less, crossing the point of no return. There is no telling that this engagement could be the last time to enjoy a period of recreation.

From this moment onward, I will need to push the men to their breaking point. Perhaps it’s not a bad idea to let them enjoy themselves while they still can. That way we can march on without regret.

“Ma~dame? What is it?” Olga sounds a bit slurred. Her face looks a bit blemish already.

I never took Olga for being a lightweight. She always seemed like the one to hold her own in a drinking contest. From the looks of it, her glass is already down to a few spits worth of vodka.

I suppose it’s too late now to ask Olga not to drink anymore… and I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to let the men enjoy a break before I force march them to Valspon and back.

…If I was to initiate a coup d’etat now, though, it might work against my favor to have a band of drunkards against Simon’s elite force.

Olga glares at me with her colorful eyes as I slide the bucket containing the bottle out of her reach—even so far as putting it on the cushion next to me. She is tall after all, so she could easily reach out to grab the bottle if it remains on the table.

“ My, my… are you going to hog the bottle all to yourself, Ma~dame? ” Olga carelessly groans.

“How humorous of you, Olga—I think that’s possibly enough for now. You can consume more of it later.

“For now, I need to talk to you about something important.”

Olga winces, and she sits up with a straight face. Was she merely feigning being drunk?

“Yes, Madame, I’m all ears. But is there any reason why you have not summoned Sergi as well?”

She makes a point. It would be beneficial to have Sergi here, as well… but it might be better to leave him in the dark until the very last moment. It could be risky if Sergi sells me out to Simon in the time being.

Giving my cabin a quick scan, I doubt he or anyone else would have the nerve to wiretap my room, either. But in the case that he was tasked by my father to…

No, I can’t begin doubting my men, not now. Sergi is faithful to me, I sincerely doubt he would go through with such an intriguing plot.

I eye my glass of vodka—and the melting ice cubes on top of each other. The top collapses as its supporting cube is unable to sustain its brethren any longer. Am Ibuying into the very same paranoia that I believe is plaguing my father?

I can’t help but scoff. Even though we aren’t related by blood in the slightest, one could say the apple doesn’t go too far from the tree.

“Madame?”

I ought to break that habit of falling into my consciousness. I have to hand it to Olga for putting up with me monologuing so much. Perhaps I should drink a little bit more—

But before I can reach for my cup, Olga leans over and snatches it out of my grasp.

“If this is a serious matter, then I believe you shouldn’t drink, either, Madame.”

“…!” I try to suppress a gasp, but a burrowed brow escapes the attempt to maintain a stoic expression.

“…It’s uncharacteristic of you to resort to drinking your problems away, no? I’m sort of getting the picture that you’re getting too anxious about the march to relieve master Che, is that it, Madame ? Are you having… second thoughts about something?”

Do I tell Olga? Can I trust her after all? I’ve known Olga for years… I hate to make the comparison again… but she is my blood sister, so to speak; she is to me what Simon is to father .

My upper chest feels a bit heavy. Even my arms begin to feel weak and shiver despite clasping my hands. Is my body strained from all the jumps? The lack of energy from not eating in what feels like forever?

I’m not sure I know what the best course of action is anymore…

To needlessly throw away lives at Valspon… or underhand the Year 217 Mafia and overthrow both father and Simon—assuming of course he stands against me. Even that equates a fair amount of bloodshed.

The doubt of his stance is too big to ignore at this point. The longer I have the fleet staying here would only raise suspicion on Simon’s part.

But one fact remains; at this moment, Olga is the only one I can trust. I have to leave the rest of the fleet in the dark until the moment is right. There’s no going back now. I trust Sergi too, of course, but there’s always a chance he will expose me before the time comes.

“Olga…

“Hypothetically… if I were to…” I bite my lower lip and tighten my clasped hands. How would one even go about admitting their interest in pursuing a goal that involves the lesser of bloodshed but betraying your fellow lieutenants? I suppose I could beat around the bush for a while, so to speak.

I sit up straight and look Olga right in the eyes. “Do you believe… there is an alternative to this bloodshed?”

Olga looks at me with surprise. “A… alternative, Madame? I am not sure…

“Hmmm…” She strokes her chin and squints. “An alternative… to avoiding wasteful losses? You mention this while we are outside the gates of the Brunsbüttel…” She casually takes a short sip from the glass of vodka she took from me. The little rascal, she just wanted more to drink, and from my glass to boot…

Olga sets it down and leans back into the sofa, her gaze shifts to the porthole where the Cluster takes up much of the view by now.

She remains silent for what feels like a long time. Before long, Olga’s eyes widen. Shooting up from her relaxed posture and making eye contact with shaking pupils, Olga only asks in a lowered voice. “Madame… you aren’t thinking about…?!” A nervous glance at the cabin doorway leading outside.

A moment of hesitation on my part. With a throat clear, I can only afford to nod.

Olga is speechless, but soon she bursts out laughing. She laughs for so long that it makes me feel a bit unsettled.

“Is there something amusing about this, Olga?” I ask as warmly as I can.

“No! No… I’m sorry Madame, please forgive me…” She has cried so hard that she has teared up a little. I suppose if I blamed the alcohol, then I have no reason to direct any anger at Olga.

“I was… surprised.”

Surprised?

“…I never could have imagined you would even consider an option like that. It’s unthinkable.”

“…Unthinkable, huh” I muse.

“But as for what I would do… that is a tough question, indeed. I’m not sure I could shoulder that sort of responsibility, Madame. I suppose that is why you are a lieutenant and why I am but your servant.” Olga chuckles a bit at the end, and I can’t help but sense there is some sadness in that.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Olga—if I did not have you by my side, I would have never garnered… this pretentious pseudonym. Do you really think I deserve this name after what you just saw? I am even less worthy than I am of the family name.”

That being the Dong surname, of course.

Olga shakes her head, “Nonsense… even without me, there will always be someone there with even better skills than I could ever possess. You overestimate what I am capable of.”

“I dislike how you belittle yourself like that so casually, Olga. I truly detest that part about you.”

“My apologies… Madame … I appreciate that you think so highly of me. You speak of not being worthy of the Madame Scarface name, but I am even more undeserving of your praise.”

Olga shifts around in her seat. “But back to the point… if I was in your position, I believe…” Olga remains silent for a while. “I believe… the best choice is to seize power and seek an audience with our Federation adversary. It may save lives… but we may be held accountable for our actions. I believe you came to the same conclusion, Madame ?”

I can only nod. “It is something along those lines… though you fail to factor in if Simon would confront us about it, and who knows if a conflict that breaks out between us would be worth the loss of lives. I do not believe there is any way to achieve an exit strategy that does not involve the loss of lives in some way or another… I’m worried that even our men will turn on us, Sergi no less also. But even so, a coup atBrunsbüttel should, I believe, be the greater outcome compared to fighting at Valspon—just speaking for the sake of our men. I’ve… come to accept that me, you… and all the other lieutenants will be indeed be forced to take responsibility for all our collective actions.

“…I feel the only person I can trust at the moment—is you, Olga.”

For just a second Olga looked moved by my words. But perhaps the effects of alcohol is making me see things.

“…I’m grateful… that you think that way, Madame, ” Olga replies weakly “you know I’ve always been grateful for you, ever since that day you stubbornly let me live. And I owe a lot to you—a debt that could possibly never be repaid in this life.” Olga abruptly gets up from her seat and sits down next to me.

She clasps one of my hands.

“Madame… no matter what you may do—I will, without hesitation, follow you wherever you go, whatever that may entail. Even if the entire galaxy turned against us, I will unwaveringly stand by your side…”

What is this? Why does my chest feel so tight? Before I even know it, I feel like choking up from tears.

“…I would lie down my very life if it means you must achieve whatever your goal may be. My life is your tool, Madame.

“…But please don’t cry. You’re a strong woman, and no one, not even me, should ever bear witness to you shedding tears.”

I bury myself into Olga’s chest. “Olga… hck… thank you. Thank you so much. I always knew from the bottom of my heart that I could trust you.”

Olga wraps her arms around me and softly strokes my hair. “If you intend to take over the government, I will do whatever I can—whatever in my power—to support you in any way I can. Whatever your word is, I will do it, Madame.”

“If I may share my opinion, Madame…”

“And what is that, Olga?” I utter trying to wipe away the tears.

“I do not think crying suits you at all.” She says with a chuckle, trying to lighten the mood.

“If that’s an attempt at humor then I order you to shut up now.” I blurt out as she proceeds in assisting wiping away the tears. The palm of her hand is rough but cold to the touch.

She rubs more of my face. “Madame…” Olga says quietly. She brings her face closer to mine, and each hot breath brushes my lips. Her cheeks are a bit reddish, and her drowsy pupils stare into mine.

“ I…”

—The intercom interrupts the moment with the one tune buzz. Indistinctly, I get up and make my way towards it.

What am I doing?

‎ I press down on the button to activate the transmission. “Speak.” I say in a tone that startles even myself; am I really that angry right now?

“Uh… sorry Madame! Sergi urges you to come down to the bridge at once.”

Sigh…

I suppose there’s no turning back now. The time has come.

“Very well. I will be down momentarily.” After I finish, I terminate the transmission.

“Olga?” She sits as she was; her head hung low. “Will you be joining us on the bridge? I imagine this will be important for you too.”

“…” Olga doesn’t budge at all.

Is she… mad at me? Can I blame her?

“Hahaha… I’m sorry, Madame. I’m just… a bit upset at myself is all. You need not worry about me. Yes. I will join you momentarily if you do not depart by then.” She gets up and faces me with a weak smile. It’s hard to tell if there’s a hint of hurt in those beady eyes of her.

“Very well… I hope to see you soon, Olga. In the event you come back and I’m already at the Brunsbüttel, I will inform the men that I am placing you in direct command of the fleet. Please… do not do anything too rashly, I… Olga, I trust you understand?”

Olga gives a meekly nod. “I will refrain from anything that will put the men at risk,Madame . I swear by your name—by Li Chou’s name.”

“…Even if I were to… not come back alive?”

Olga grimaces. “I do not want to think about that possibility. I trust Simon would not go that far…”

“I suppose you are right, well then… I shall be off.” I proceed to step through the sliding door—

But stop. With one foot in the doorway, I turn to look back at Olga, who still has her eyes trained on me.

“Olga…erm… thank you. Thank you for everything. For the confidence—and always being by my side. I hope you will continue to be by my side when this is all over.”

Olga looks at me with a slight surprise but maintains her composure by the end. She cracks a smile. “Don’t say stuff like that, you might just make me cry.”

“—I don’t think crying suits you either, Olga.” I echo the words to her.

And without further ado, I head for the bridge.

Sergi taps his foot impatiently.

“Do you know how long I have waited for you to show up? Do you know how much trouble Mission Control has been giving me? For the love of…”

Sergi lets loose a sigh and briefly buries a hand into his face.

I give Sergi a gracious bow. “My condolences, Sergi. I am greatly appreciative of your hard work.”

“Hard work… hard work, yeah. So are we proceeding to Valspon or what?”

“No, as a matter of fact, I believe it will be beneficial to let the men rest for a while.” I reply warmly. Sergi and some of the nearby men in earshot give me glances.

“Rest?” Sergi sneers. “Rest, and let Valspon fall? Look, we wasted enough time as is—”

“Listen to me, Sergi. This is the only window we have to let the men recuperate. After this point, we will have to viciously assault the Federation forces without letting them have a chance to breathe. And after we push them out of Valspon… we will need to keep the momentum and rapid march back to the Velksland system. Che could very well be on his death’s throes by now. But it is necessary for him to suffer for the time being so we can conserve our energy for the coming tactical redeployments.

“The men under Che are not as much of a buffoon as their commander is. The anti-ship capabilities at Malabo are also sufficient enough for at least several more hours—and even then they must storm the Side which could last another few hours on top of that. Che would not be idiotic enough to retreat without a fight. He faces execution by the Federation or by father either way.

“So yes, Sergi. I will intend for the men to let the men enjoy the only chance they have. After this… I fully intend to push them past their limits—we have no chance covering two fronts otherwise.”

I pull Sergi closer to me, ignoring his surprised grunt.

“Listen to me Sergi, I believe I have another alternative to this upcoming bloodbath.”

“What did you say—”

“Assemble a few companies of your best men. I’ll give you about thirty minutes. We won’t have much time after that. While we’re at it dispatch a few barges for supplies. ” I say in a low voice, out of earshot of the others.

The time for relaxation will have to come until after our potential coup. It would be too detrimental to allow anyone to relax just yet.

“Excuse the following… erm… bombshell…” I clear my throat and pull Sergi away from the others “I was going to inform you earlier but lacked the chance…”

Sergi looks bewildered. His eyes dart around the bridge, and certainly by now more eyes are trained on us. At this point, it doesn’t matter anymore. If Lübeck’s Mission Control is complaining about a stealth fleet arriving from a system where there’s an enormous Federation armada at the doorstep, I’d be a little antsy in Simon’s shoes too. Simon knows we are here already. It matters not if my plans leak out.

“I believe the only way to avoid unnecessary loss of life and material is to seize the capital and negotiate for peace with the Federation—and Simon will help us. I’m confident he will keep his head cool and join us. This will not be a bloody coup, I hope… but they might need some convincing.”

Sergi turns pale. “You intend… to betray your father?”

“Don’t paint me the villain here, Sergi. You and I both know that there is no way we can avoid the clutches of the Federation forever. Use your head! If we can surrender to the Federation, we can even be granted amnesty and walk as free men!”

Well… for some of us, anyway. At this point, you could say it’s delusional of me to believe any top lieutenant will be spared. If we’re really lucky. Only my father and I will be executed for our crimes. But if that’s what it takes to save lives, then I will do it, no hesitation.

“You cannot be serious, Madame.”

“There is no other way. This is our only chance, Sergi! Do you intend to make me beg for your cooperation?!”

Sergi shakes his head. “Madame… if that is your wish, I do see some…” he clears his throat, "rational thinking in your plan… but are you sure you are not intoxicated?”

“I am completely sober and therefore fully aware of my actions and its consequences, Sergi. I would not even think about throwing away lives at a drunken whim.”

Although I did come close to it… but thankfully Olga did drink my glass before I could even consider it.

“So what say you, Sergi? I understand this is in fact an awkward crossroads for you… but will you lend me you and your men to assist in a seizure of power?”

Sergi remains silent for a bit, his scrunched brow twitches on occasion.

“Madame… if I could express my opinion.”

“No need to be so formal, Sergi.”

“Right… I think this has to be the most idiotic plan you have ever devised… but truthfully, your father’s plan to intercept the Federation force at Valspon is all the more so idiotic on a grand scale. Everything about this is idiotic!”

“Keep your voice down,” I say with a stern warning.

“—Right, my apologies. But that aside… I suppose we don’t have much of a choice, do we? At best if it fails we—you can deal with the political fallout—if we make it through this in one piece, anyway.”

“I will worry about that when the time comes… but do you think you can assemble a few companies in the time I gave you?”

Sergi nods, “Of course, I will muster as many as I can and meet up with you in the hanger bay.”

“Very well” I salute Sergi and see him leave the bridge room.

“…” With a sigh of relief, I turn my attention to the bridge staff. Their worried eyes are still trained on me.

“…You there!” I point to the radio operator, who nearly jumps in place. “Send a wired transmission to the fleet informing all crew to enjoy as much recreation as we can—but under no circumstances will anybody head for either the Lübeck settlements or the Cluster colonies. Do I make myself clear?

“I will also let all of you—here—take shifts to rest, no more than an hour or two at most. Enjoy it while you can, because I will not permit any breaks once we march into Valspon.

“Sergi and I will depart for the capital, and Olga Kaiser will be acting commander of the fleet in the meantime. Do I make myself clear?”

The bridge declares they confirm the order in unison.

“Good. I will be in the hanger room if anybody needs me… Oh, inform Lübeck’s Mission Control we will be requesting supplies and a meeting with Simon by the next hour.”

Once more a universal grunt from the men.

With no more business to be had here, I depart the bridge in silence.

All the pieces are falling into place, slowly but surely... there’s definitely no turning back—I’ve made up my mind. All there is to do now is wait.