Arriving back at Rächerin following her surprise meeting with Azrael, Samara wasted no time in disseminating the news, starting with Rook.

“I hope the Home Office came through with those credits, because we have a complication,” she informed him. “We need to get out of here as soon as possible.”

“What sort of complication?” he asked.

“They’ve tracked us,” she explained. “An old acquaintance of mine cornered me in the port and warned they were coming for me and given our relationship he will probably go through you to do it.”

The Avatar blinked. “But how?” he said in disbelief. “How could he have found us so quickly?”

“Because he’s smart, he’s resourceful, and he’s getting a lot of help,” she told him. “Don’t underestimate him. He’s the best at what he does.”

“And that is?”

Her thoughts hearkened back to her conversation with Azrael. “He eliminates problems,” she said at last. “Permanently.”

Rook grimaced. “I will speak to the Port Master and see what they can do to hasten our repairs.”

“You do that,” Samara nodded. “And start considering what you can live without getting fixed because every day we stay here is a dozen opportunities for Azrael to finish the job.”

“I will begin prioritizing immediately,” he agreed, but she was already on the move.

“...Azrael,” Xeno sighed. “Of course the Troika would send him.”

Persephone raised an eyebrow from the screen. “Who is this we’re talking about?” she asked.

Samara started to speak, but Xeno cut her off. “A very dangerous individual,” he informed her. “Charming when he chooses to be...and utterly ruthless when it comes to his mission.”

“I know you two had your differences...” Samara began, but once again she was interrupted.

“I do not base my opinion solely on our personal interactions,” he snapped, pointing at his cranial implant. “I’ve followed his career for years. He’s not needlessly cruel, unlike some, but he also lacks even a trace of compassion. I’m surprised he gave you a warning, but then you and he were always something...special.”

Despite everything, despite the fact she knew he was coming to kill her, Samara still felt the need to defend him. “Even though I was the one who left, he treated me well,” she said. “And anything you can say about him applies equally to myself.”

“I’m afraid I must disagree,” Xeno replied. “Even at your worst, you still kept a shred of your conscience, whereas Azrael was born without one, or had it surgically removed.”

Samara wanted to argue that point, especially in front of the others, but she knew she’d had a blind spot regarding him for a very long time. As much as it pained her to admit, it was possible that was still clouding her judgment.

“Then what are we supposed to do?” Kalypso asked. “If he’s as dangerous as you say, shouldn’t we be looking for a safe place to hole up?”

“I doubt there’s a place anywhere we could find that Azrael wouldn’t track us to eventually,” he countered. “We might delay things a bit, but that’s all.”

“If we cannot hide from him, then we must face him,” Xeno decided. “With all of us working in concert…”

“Forget it,” Samara growled. “He’s coming after me, not you. I’m perfectly happy to let Rook end up as collateral damage,” she said with an evil grin, “but I’m not risking the rest of you. If you stay out of his line of fire, he’ll leave you alone.” She fixed them all with a cold stare. “But if you appear on his radar, it’ll be the last thing you ever do. I know I was the one who reached out to you for support, but had I known they’d bring in Azrael I would have never done it.”

The four of them glanced at one another...Gideon was out of it, as usual... until Xeno finally cleared his throat. “Samara, this is a war. There are casualties in war. There always has been. We accept that,” he said, nodding at the others, “and each one of us knew it was a possibility before we ever came on board. So while we appreciate your concern, perhaps we could focus our efforts on dealing with the problem at hand?” He managed a gentle smile, and as she looked at each of their faces, she could see their resolve.

“Maybe you’re willing to risk your lives, but I’m not willing to risk your lives,” she said at last. “This was always between me and them. Maybe it is a war”, she grudgingly admitted, “but it’s a private war, damn it.”

Xeno reached out and found her arm, before covering her hand with his own. “Not anymore,” he said softly. “This is our fight as much as it is yours.”

“He’s right,” Persephone agreed, as Kalypso nodded as well.

Samara sighed, shaking her head. There was no talking them out of this. She could boot them off the ship...it would thrill Rook to no end to see them go...but even that wouldn’t stop them.

It would only leave them vulnerable.

“This is not what I wanted,” she grimaced, “but since you’re all determined to cut your own throats, who am I to stop you?” She threw up her hands in resignation. “In that case, our first order of business is to get off this rock. The longer we stay here, the bigger a target we are. Rook is working on getting the repairs done faster and deciding what can wait. I would most appreciate anything you can do to help speed things along.”

“We’ll see what we can do,” Kalypso nodded, as she began searching for a ship schematic.

Rook’s efforts had apparently paid off. Less than twenty-four hours after her encounter with Azrael, they were casting off from Nugadh. Despite their best efforts, the repair crews could not fix everything that was wrong, and her Kikush warden grew cagey when she pressed him for details. At this point she’d be happy if it could fly, keep the air in, and not blow up.

But there was a nagging itch at the base of her skull that would not go away, one that had nothing to do with her recent surgery. She took the captain’s chair on the ship’s small bridge as they headed out from the system, keeping a close watch on the sensors as they left for deep space.

The sound of the hatch sliding open caught her attention, as Xeno and Kalypso entered the compartment, her guiding him by the arm as they made their way to a pair of unoccupied chairs. “What brings you both up here?” she asked them.

“The same as you, I suspect,” Xeno answered. “It occurred to me that once we were away from the planet, it would be the perfect time for an enemy to strike.”

“I hope I’m wrong,” she admitted, “but that’s why I’m here. And it would mean that he’d given us a full day’s warning, with honor having been served. Not that it will matter much, considering this is a pleasure yacht. Which means no weapons,” she said with a grimace.

“So what can we do if he shows up?” Kalypso asked.

“Other than run? Not a great deal,” Samara told her. “Oh, we can try something clever, but he’s no fool. Odds are he’ll see right through whatever ruse we throw at him.” She was about to say something else when Rook’s image appeared on her monitor.

“Samara, it appears as if your concerns were warranted. I am picking up a vessel fifty thousand kilometers out, on an intercept course.”

She swore under her breath as she pulled the sensor imagery on screen. “There are times I hate being right,” she said with feeling, before looking back to Rook. “Evade him.”

“I will try, but according to my readings, the vessel’s energy output is more than double ours. I cannot evade him for long.”

“He’ll be charging weapons,” she predicted, before snapping a look at the others. “Get everyone in suits and get strapped in now,” she ordered, peeling off her own clothing as she yanked open the suit locker and started putting on the bulky gear.

“Good Luck,” Xeno told her, as Kalypso ushered him off the bridge.

“...we’ll need it,” she said to herself, snapping her helmet into place before retaking her seat and cinching the harness down tight. “Rook, tell me you have a brilliant idea to get us out of this.”

“I’m afraid I must disappoint you,” he apologized. “I can see no way out of our predicament.”

“Wonderful,” she groused, before punching up the intercom. “Xeno, how close would Gideon need to be to affect the other ship?”

“Less than ten kilometers, I’m afraid,” he reported back, as Kalypso struggled to get him into his suit. “Shall we wake him?”

“Don’t bother,” she told him, before severing the connection. If that really was Azrael in that other ship, and at the moment she couldn’t imagine who else it might be, then there was no way in hell he’d ever allow her to get that close.

“Rook, keep jinking Rächerin around,” she charged. “It’s not much, but we might get lucky.”

“Acknowledged. Anything else?”

Samara wracked her brain for something, anything, that might give them a fighting chance. Staring at the monitor, she highlighted one of the smaller gas giants in the Nugadh system. If they altered course now, they should be able to reach it before the other vessel caught them. Maybe. If everything broke their way.

It was a stupid plan. Not even a good old-fashioned insane plan, the kind humans prided themselves on, just an incredibly moronic one, with little chance for success and superb odds of getting them all killed for nothing.

But it was all she had.

“Rook, alter heading to...um...352 by Mark 017,” she told him, after spending a few moments calculating the course change. “Redline the engines and batten down the hatches.”

His electronic Avatar brain worked much faster than her organic one, and he stared at her in dismay. “Samara, that course will place us on a direct line to…”

“I know,” she bristled. “You had your chance to come up with something. Now it’s my turn.” She studied the plot as the ship altered its course, as the other vessel quickly followed suit. “How long before we’re in weapons range?” she asked.

“Without knowing the armament the enemy craft carries, I can only estimate,” he explained. “If the ship carries missiles, we will be at extreme range fifteen to twenty seconds prior to hitting the planet’s upper atmosphere. If it carries energy weapons, then we will probably be just arriving at the planet.”

“Then let’s hope its beams,” she commented, as the two craft drew closer.

“Samara...your plan may buy us a few minutes’ grace, but I fail to see how it serves us,” Rook said unhappily. “Even if we can slingshot around the planet to increase our velocity, it will not be enough to get free.”

“I’m making this up as I go,” she chafed at him. “We’ve got nothing but terrible options, so how about you stop kibitzing and start helping?”

As Rächerin began her descent towards the planet, Rook chimed in once more. “The other ship is altering course once again, Samara. Its new heading will leave it well-positioned to fire upon us after we have completed the gravity-assist maneuver.”

“Cutting off our escape route,” she frowned. “Smart. Too smart, unfortunately.” She drummed her fingers on the armrest as she searched for some way to get clear of Azrael…and came up empty. As much as it pained her, there was only one viable option left to them.

“Rook? Hail the other ship.” She took a deep breath. “Tell them we surrender.”

“Are you certain of this, Samara?” Rook asked. “If it truly is Azrael aboard that craft, surrendering to him does not bode well for you.”

“I’m aware,” she said. “Tell him there are others aboard this ship that aren’t a part of this.”

“As you wish,” he said softly, his image freezing as he attempted communication with the other vessel, while she jotted off a quick text of her own. Less than a minute later she had her answer.

“He accepts your surrender, and orders us to alter course,” Rook informed her. “He wishes to rendezvous at the following coordinates.” A string of numbers followed, which the alien Avatar dutifully plotted on the display. “You are to transfer over to his ship by tether, and he warns the slightest deviation from his instructions will result in the destruction of this ship.” He looked at her with something approaching despair. “Samara, I…”

“It’s all right,” she reassured. “Tell him we’ll comply with his demands and alter course for the linkup.” Unlocking her harness, she rose to her feet.

“I suppose I’d better get prepped,” she said with a wan smile.