“What I don’t get is why,” Slavko argued. “I mean, I thought we were on the same side here. Sure, I had my issues with her, but come on… hijacking Gyrfalcon? Knocking us out? Screwing up the best chance we’ve ever had to claim Terra Nova for humanity? What the fuck?”

The rest of the crew nodded in agreement. “I never trusted that bitch,” Mairead fired back. “She was always a backstabbing snake.”

“Did she say anything to anybody?” Isi asked the others. “Give some kind of hint why she’d do this?”

“Not a word,” Xuilan answered, shaking her head. “Course she was Wetworks,” she reminded them. “They’re not exactly chatty about what they’re up to.”

“What about you, Cap’n?” Slavko prodded. “I mean, you probably knew her best.”

Remi grimaced at the question. Truth be told, he’d been wracking his brains as well, trying to understand how he could have misjudged her so badly. But even after replaying every conversation they’d shared since her rescue, looking for any hint of subterfuge, he still came up blank.

“I don’t know,” he said at last. “Like Xui said, if Samara didn’t want you to know something, you’d never hear about it from her.” Hoping to redirect the conversation in a safer direction, he turned to the Tinker. “Any idea how she got the drop on us?” he inquired.

“Near as I can tell, she… or more likely, that alien in her head, Mashad… found an anti-hijacking subroutine in the ship’s systems,” Mairead informed them. “With all the work we were doing getting this boat up and running, she had plenty of time to trigger it.”

“Wait… if that’s true, why didn’t the Eleexx use it on her when she took over the ship?” Isi asked her.

“I don’t know,” the engineer shrugged. “Must have caught them by surprise.”

“It went down pretty fast,” Slavko agreed. “It was all over in minutes.”

“That explains the ‘how’,” Remi admitted, “but it still doesn’t explain the why.”

“Last trip out with her, she was being controlled by the Eleexx, remember?” Xuilan said nervously. “What if she still is? What if she sold us out to the Troika?”

“Blye cured her of that,” Remi pointed out. “Besides, if she had betrayed us, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. The Troika would have nabbed us when we were unconscious.”

There were reluctant nods all around at that one. “We may never know why she did it,” he continued, “so we need to focus on what’s ahead of us instead. Any thoughts on how we get past their pickets?”

“Without Samara impersonating Doc Axchxairx?” Isi just shrugged. “Can we sneak past them?”

“Maybe,” Xuilan answered, though she looked dubious at the prospect.

“Dig into the databases,” Remi ordered. “There’s got to be something in there we can use. Passwords, special routes, call signs… something.”

The tense side glances the crew shared weren’t exactly inspiring.

“Maintain course,” he continued, “and find me some answers. I’ll be in my quarters, trying to find a few of my own.” With that, he adjourned the meeting, his mind focused on a stiff drink and a few hours of much-needed sleep.

Arriving in the Eleexx ship’s former captain’s quarters, he discovered that sleep would have to wait. An envelope sat on his pillow, his name inscribed in an elegant hand, the calligraphy completely unknown to him. He doubted any of the crew had left it there, which left a single unappetizing possibility.

He approached the packet warily, assuming the worst, but after several minutes of careful inspection, he could find nothing obviously hazardous. Picking it up, he discovered it was sealed and had something inside.

“Samara, what are you playing at?” he asked the empty cabin, before tearing it open, only to have a data rod fall into his palm. Remi stared at the data storage device, debating his next move before realizing that if Samara had truly wished them harm, they’d already be dead. With a sigh, he inserted the rod into the captain’s workstation, as the Protean’s face appeared on the display.

“Hello Remi,’ she smiled. “I imagine you’re rather upset with me at the moment, and for that, I apologize. There’s something I have to do, and I needed a ship to do it. You weren’t using Gyrfalcon, so I decided to borrow it.”

“You could have fucking asked,” he snapped, glaring at her image.

“... You’re probably wondering why I didn’t just ask,” she continued, as he shook his head in frustration. “I could give you a complete list of reasons why I didn’t, and some of them would even be true.” There was a mischievous twinkle in her eye that did little to mollify him. “But the fact of the matter is that there was a non-zero chance you would have said no, and I’m afraid I couldn’t risk it. My mission is too important.”

“Samara, you haven’t changed a bit,” he grumbled. It was not a compliment. “We could have done this together.”

“And now you’re wondering why I didn’t read you in,” she chuckled. “I considered it, really, I did, but…”

Her expression unexpectedly changed. The sparkle was gone, replaced with something cold and bitter.

“I work alone, Remi,” she told him. “It’s better this way. The times when I didn’t… people died. People I called friends. I won’t risk your life, or the lives of your crew. I owe you a debt for rescuing me, so consider this my way of repaying you. Believe me when I say you and the others are safer without me.”

“God, you’re arrogant,” he told her, though, of course, she couldn’t hear him.

“As far as your mission is concerned, I’m not leaving you in the lurch… not completely,” she continued. “I took the time to record some standard Eleexi greetings and orders… while shifted into Axchxairx’s form, naturally,” Samara smiled. “It won’t cover every possibility, I’m afraid, but with a little work, your Tinker should be able to use it to bluff your past the pickets.” She graced him with a mournful smile. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more.”

Remi wanted to be mad at her. He really wanted to be mad at her. But something about her confession robbed him of that. Maybe it was all a lie…. knowing Samara, it probably was… but if there was a Terran out there more damaged than the Protean assassin, he’d yet to meet them. He could only begin to imagine the things she’d survived, and because of that, his heart just wasn’t in it.

He couldn’t hate her for what she’d done, despite everything.

“I hope someday we can catch up on old times,” she said, wrapping things up. “Maybe share a glass or three when this is all over. I’d like that.”

“So would I,” he whispered.

Samara leaned forward so that her head and shoulders filled the screen, looking directly into the camera. “Find New Terra,” she urged him. “If anyone can do it, it’s you. And being completely honest…. I don’t think we’ll get another shot at this. It has to be now, Remi.” She pressed her index and middle fingers to her lips, kissing them, and then touched them to the camera. “Bonne chance, mon ami,” she said softly… as the screen went dark.

Remi stared at the blank display, his mind a jumble of emotions. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, struggling to process Samara’s message, but in the end, there was only one thing he could do.

“Mairead, come to my quarters,” he said into the intercom, “... I have a job for you.”

Despite needing Samara’s imagery to bluff their way past the Troika patrols, he still debated whether to show the others her message. In the end, he’d had little choice, given that it was impossible to separate one from the other, not without questions from the crew. Unsurprisingly, they were far less forgiving than he was. Since he needed Mairead’s help to make it work, he hoped briefing her separately would make it easier when he finally informed the others.

He should have known better.

“Un-fucking-believable,” the Tinker cursed. “That bitch thinks some taped greetings will get us past the Troika? And we’re just supposed to go along with it?”

“I admit, it’s not a perfect solution…” he began.

“... no kidding,” she snapped. “We were facing long enough odds as it was with her talking us through. Now?” She glared at her captain. “It’s a fucking suicide mission.”

“I don’t think it’s quite that bad, but the odds have definitely worsened,” Remi sighed. “But she’s right about one thing; if we don’t do this now, that’s it. That’s the ballgame.”

“I don’t like this plan, Cap’n,” Mairead said with obvious discomfort. “There’s too many ways it can go bad.”

He’d known from the start that she’d need to vent, given recent developments, but he was the captain, not her. She’d made her opinion on the subject abundantly clear, but then a Corsair ship wasn’t a democracy.

“This is the hand we’ve been dealt,” Remi told her, putting a hint of steel into his tone. “Going back isn’t an option, not anymore. We’re doing this, even if that means shooting our way past the whole damn Troika.” He fixed his gaze on her, his expression as unyielding as armored plate. “We’re Terrans, Mairead. Never forget that. We don’t get to pick and choose.”

It was a face she knew all too well. “Aye, Cap’n,” she swallowed. “I’ll do what I can.”

He reached out and touched her shoulder. “I know you will,” Remi said, tucking away the “Stern pirate captain” demeanor. Like most levers in his professional toolbox, it was best used sparingly. “Whatever you need, you’ll get,” he promised, handing over the data rod.

The Tinker took it from his hand and tucked it away, rising to her feet. “Let me see what I’m dealing with first,” she warned him, “before I make requests.” She exited the compartment far more rapidly than she’d entered, though whether it was due to urgency or discomfort, he wasn’t sure.

Matter of fact, he didn’t want to know.

The rest of the crew didn’t take the news any better than Mairead had, but Remi stood his ground. And honestly, what other choice did they have? Go back with their tail between their legs and explain to the admiral just how badly the original mission had gone off the rails? Explain how he lost Gyrfalcon? Even better, figure out how to hide an Eleexxi ship, something the Troika absolutely could not let stand if they got wind of it?

Well, maybe the Tu’udh’hizh’ak and Aggaaddub would turn a blind eye, given that there was little love lost between the three powers. Then again… maybe they wouldn’t. It was one thing for their partners/rivals to come for them, but anyone else? In their eyes, that was a provocation they simply could not let stand. Which would make him and his crew hunted pariahs, and nowhere would be safe.

So forward it was. Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead. Of course, that didn’t mean they had to be foolish about it. While he was tempted to make a straight-in run, Mairead needed time to enhance Samara’s digital Eleexx impersonation. Not only that, but if he could reconnoiter the sector and get an idea what the Troika security looked like, it might improve their odds. It certainly couldn’t hurt, at any rate.

Xuilan and Slavko had both been busy familiarizing themselves with their new toy, and their hard work had paid off. Heuristic Fealty boasted a robust stealth system, with several options that allowed them to reduce their sensor signature far below what he’d imagined. He’d simply never seen them in action, and after a few minutes asking himself why the answer was obvious. The single most defining trait amongst the Troika races was their staggering arrogance, and even after the Alliance’s creation, they still didn’t take them seriously. Using stealth against any of the “inferior” races would be tantamount to admitting they were an actual threat, and that could not be allowed, even if it meant fighting at a disadvantage.

Against the Yīqún, however, the jury was still out. He’d heard rumors of the Troika employing countermeasures against the drones, but details were sketchy. Since the machine’s invasion, they’d made themselves scarce, and any battles between them usually took place far from Alliance eyes. Despite the danger, Remi suspected that even against a proven and deadly enemy like the Yīqún, they simply couldn’t accept the fact that a horde of mindless machines was something to fear. The lower races might be afraid, but never the Troika.

Proving yet again how mind-numbingly stupid they all were.

And yet, the stealth systems aboard Heuristic Fealty were bleeding edge technology, which meant they had to use them. It seemed that the only opponent they considered worthy enough to take seriously were the other Troika races, and if so, maybe they could use it to their advantage, assuming they weren’t expecting it. The only problem with that theory was the fact that, according to Samara, the Troika ships guarding Terra Nova were operating covertly themselves, lying in wait to kill or capture the unwary. Which begged the question, just how closely were they cooperating with one another, while warding the Precursor planet from trespassers? Was this the one place where they were all in agreement… or was New Terra, far from prying eyes, the biggest battlefield of them all?

There was only one way to find out.