Time passed. How long was uncertain, days, most likely, though probably not weeks. Eventually, they removed their shackles, not out of kindness, but merely to simplify the sanitation problem. Their rations were more of the same bland paste the Chell had brought them, though they had not seen them again since that first meeting. Other than their guards, who were visible only at mealtimes and who tolerated no attempts at communication, they had no other visitors. Nor were they taken back to the Throne Room, leaving the crew at loose ends.

“Why?” Mairead demanded. “Why are we still here? Hell, why are we even still alive?”

“Would you prefer the alternative?” Remi asked her.

She gave him an old-fashioned look. “Of course not. But this doesn’t make any damn sense. What’s the point of keeping us here? What do they hope to gain?”

“I suspect it has less to do with some ulterior motive, and more to do with their leaders,” the captain said pointedly. “In fact, that we’re still here tells me they still can’t agree on what to do with us. Besides, it’s not like we’re going anywhere. Plenty of time to decide our fate.”

“That tracks,” Isi nodded. “Can’t think of any other reason to keep us around.”

“I don’t know about the rest of you,” Slavko muttered from the deck, “but I’m glad for the downtime.”

Remi went to the gunner and knelt at his side. “Feeling any better?” he asked.

“Some,” he nodded. “Head still hurts, and my balance is off, but other than that, I’m okay.”

“And your eyesight?” he prompted.

Slavko sighed. “A little blurry,” he admitted.

The captain patted his shoulder. “You just rest,” he told him. “Best thing for you right now.” The gunner nodded weakly and closed his eyes, throwing an arm over his face. He’d finally woken the day after their capture, but the obvious signs of concussion worried them all. The crew took turns watching over him, watching for any signs of a relapse. So far, he seemed to be slowly improving.

The sound of the hatch opening immediately drew their attention as a Chell servitor stepped inside, the hatch closing behind them. The only time they saw their guards was at mealtime, but by Remi’s rough calculations, that was still several hours off.

“Come. There is little time,” the Chell hissed, motioning them towards the hatch. “I have lured your watchers away, but they will soon return. We must be far from here when they do.”

“We’re still debating whether we can trust you,” Remi said, speaking for the others as he stood up. “How do we know this isn’t some sort of trap?”

“They have already trapped you,” the Chell retorted. “What point would there be in tricking you now? Information? That they could easily torture out of you… and still may, should they ever agree on a protocol. If you wish, you may remain here and await your fate, but if you do, then you are fools,” it said derisively.

The crew looked at one another, still unsure until Isi finally spoke up. “Like you said, Cap’n… what choice do we have? I sure as hell don’t want to stay here until we rot.”

One by one, the others nodded in agreement. “All right,” Remi said at last, “... then let’s go.”

Isi gave Slavko a hand, helping him to his feet and supporting him as they exited the compartment. Just as the Chell had told them, there were no guards in sight. “This way,” it gestured, leading them down the corridor.

“Where are we going?” Xiulan asked.

“A shuttle is waiting,” the Chell explained. “As far as the computer is concerned, it is scheduled for a routine personnel transfer. It is bound for the Aggaaddub vessel Adamantine, on the far side of the Precursor homeworld.”

“So we take the shuttle and then divert from the flight plan, making a run on the planet itself when we’re out of range from Troika weapon’s fire,” Remi deduced.

“Exactly,” the servitor agreed. “By the time they learn the truth, hopefully, it will be too late.”

“Hopefully?” Mairead said shrilly.

“What did you expect, a guarantee?” Remi snapped. “Just get us to the shuttle, Mister Whatever-Your-Name-Is, and we’ll take it from there.”

The Chell nodded and scurried down another corridor, leading them through a maze of passageways as they traversed the alien ship. By the fourth turn, they were hopelessly lost, dependent solely on their guide to lead them to the waiting shuttle. If the Chell were to betray them, it would be now, the captain realized, examining every turn and corner with a vigilant eye as they fought to escape. As the minutes ticked by, Remi realized the hallways were strangely empty, compelling him to ask their rescuer the cause.

“It is a security exercise,” the servitor explained, “scheduled randomly to more accurately test their knowledge and skills. Much of the ship is on lockdown.”

“Wait… if it’s scheduled randomly, how did you learn of it?” Remi demanded.

“Who do you think programmed it into the computer?” the Chell snorted, taking one last turn before coming to a halt in front of a hatch. “This will allow you access to the shuttle. Use this,” they continued, producing a data rod and handing it over, “when you are ready to escape. It will mimic a Troika crew requesting clearance for departure.”

Remi took the proffered rod and handed it to Xuilan. “Thank you for all your help,” he said sincerely. “We are in your debt.”

“If you truly wish to express your gratitude, then free my people,” the servitor said zealously, their eyes glistening with fervor. “All that I have done has been for them.”

“You have our word,” Remi vowed. “As soon as possible we will—”

“... Halt! Do not move!” someone shouted behind them. The crew spun around, spotting too late an Aggaaddub guard, now charging towards them with undisguised fury as it reached for its sidearm.

Remi instinctively reached for his own weapon, cursing his stupidity as he remembered he was unarmed. There was a moment of indecision, of hesitation, as he frantically struggled to come up with a plan in time to save them.

Isi didn’t wait for orders. Instead, he rushed the massive reptilian, his feet pounding on the deck plates prior to him, launching himself through the air and tackling the guard, with his captain and crew a heartbeat behind him. The big man grabbed hold of the weapon the Aggaaddub was bringing to bear, fighting to take it from its claws… when the muffled sound of pulser blast made a whine-crack as it fired, bringing their actions to a screeching halt.

They were still locked together, the reptilian and the Terran, in close combat, frozen as if in a tableau. Isi gazed up at his captain, his eyes wide… as a trickle of blood began streaming from his mouth.

“NO!” Remi screamed, catapulting himself at the alien guard. The pair slammed together with a meaty thud as he knocked Isi clear, the pulser skittering away across the deck when the two collided. Even before he’d attacked, the captain knew he was outclassed; the reptilian was bigger, stronger, armed with dagger-like claws and razor-sharp teeth. In a fair fight, he didn’t stand a chance.

Luckily for him, Remi had no intention of fighting fair.

The Aggaaddub’s hide was thick, armored like a leather shield, protecting the massive alien. There were few vulnerable spots to be found as the pair grappled, but one in particular immediately stood out. With a snarl, Remi drove his thumbs into the lizard’s eyes, the guard’s screams now ear-shattering as he ripped the fragile orbs apart, blinding him. The reptilian’s agonized keening filled the corridor as he searched for another target… only for the caterwauling to be cut short as the pulser fired yet again, ending its cries forever. Breathing hard as he looked up, he saw the Chell holding the weapon, a now gaping wound appearing on the guard’s torso.

“You must go. Now,” their newfound ally ordered. “Sensors will show there has been weapons fire. You cannot be here when they come to investigate.”

“You’re right,” Remi nodded. Glancing over at Isi, he saw the others were already ministering to him as best they could, despite the grievous nature of his wounds. If he didn’t get medical attention soon…

“We’re leaving,” he commanded the others, grabbing one of the purser’s arms and throwing it around his neck. Mairead grabbed the other while Xuilan assisted Slavko, still rocky from his concussion. They stumbled to the hatch, the Tinker opening it up as they staggered inside. “Prep her for launch,” he ordered, pausing only to lay Isi on the deck and step outside as he faced the Chell. “What about you?” he asked.

“I will ensure they have no cause to seek your whereabouts,” they replied stiffly, their eyes boring into his. “Remember your promise,” the servitor whispered, before raising the pulser and pressing it into the dead Aggaaddub’s hand. The rodent-like alien closed its eyes as it placed the barrel over its chest, took a deep breath… and then fired.

The captain could only watch in shock as its body tumbled to the deck, falling across the reptilian’s corpse. Mairead gasped, her hand covering her mouth as stared in horror before Remi bustled her back inside. “Go!” he shouted, sealing the hatch. “Prepare for launch!”

Xuilan and Slavko took their positions on the bridge, while Mairead tried in vain to minister to Isi's injuries before the captain pulled her aside. “I need you to assist the others,” he ordered. “Start by removing the safety interlocks.”

She blanched at his command. “But Cap’n,” she swallowed, “removing the interlocks is dangerous. If any of the systems suffer an overload…”

“We’ve got one shot at this,” he snapped, interrupting her. “We need every gram of acceleration possible if we’re to get to Terra Nova. Now move!” he shouted at her, sending her staggering off in confusion. Kneeling down beside the big man, he cradled his head. “How are you doing?” he asked.

Isi coughed, bringing up another trickle of blood. “I’m… okay,” he managed, forcing a smile on his face. “Barely feel a thing.”

Somehow, Remi did likewise. “Just like you, lying down on the job when there’s work to be done. I should dock your pay.”

The purser chuckled, coughing up even more bloody phlegm. Their eyes met, and both men knew neither of them was fooling the other. “Do me a favor,” he rasped, “look out for them, will you?”

“You can look out for them yourself,” Remi fired back. “Just hang on, and we’ll get you to a Knight. Or maybe even some high-tech Precursor medical facility. Hell, you’ll be even better than new.”

“Captain,” Xiulan said from the pilot’s seat, “we’re ready to launch.”

“Then launch, damn it!” he snarled, the crew leaping to obey.

“... why’d he do it?” Isi whispered. “... the Chell… why…?” he wondered aloud, disoriented and losing focus.

Remi bowed his head as he felt the shuttle cast off. “He sacrificed himself to buy us time,” he said reverently. “A dead guard alone would trigger an investigation and manhunt, and they’d realize the shuttle had to be involved. We’d never make it to New Terra. But a dead guard and a dead suspect mean a more leisurely approach. The Troika won’t search quite so hard, or nearly as fast, and why should they? They’ve already solved the case.” The captain sighed heavily. “By giving his own life, he averted that investigation, or at the very least postponed it. He was counting on the Troika’s arrogance in order to give us a chance.”

He watched as the realization sank in. “A brave man,” Isi whispered. “Promise me we’ll help free his people.”

“We will,” the captain vowed, “I swear we will.”

“... good…” he mumbled, closing his eyes, a small smile playing at his lips. Remi held him as his breathing slowed, and then finally stopped.

He looked up and saw Mairead, her eyes filled with tears. There was nothing either of them could say. He gently laid Isi’s body on the deck, and then slowly rose to his feet and made his way to the bridge, taking his position. “... status,” he ordered.

“We’re en route to the Troika ship Adamantine,” Xiulan informed him. “The data rod must have worked, there were no problems with Traffic Control. According to the flight path the Chell provided us, we maintain this heading for another twenty to thirty minutes, and then make a high-speed run straight to New Terra. Unless they’ve got more ships hiding out there, we don’t know about, we should be in the clear.” She paused for a moment, and then asked softly, “... Isi?”

His jaw set in a hard line. “He didn’t make it,” Remi said quietly.

The pilot gasped, and then spun away, her shoulders convulsing as she sobbed. Beside her, Slavko snarled, swearing “... those fucking bastards.” He pounded the console in anger and frustration as they maintained their heading.

The minutes ticked by in silence as they made their last leg of the long journey. The Precursor sun grew bright on their screens, the crew all peering closely at the planetary system, until Xuilan said softly, “... I’ve found it.”

They all turned to her, watching as she brought it up on the screen. “Fourth planet from the sun,” she continued, zooming in close. They stared in wonder as the blue-green world appeared before them, with white clouds swirling around in the thick atmosphere.

“It’s beautiful,” Mairead whispered. “It’s almost as if I could reach out and…”

“... Status change!” Slavko shouted, breaking the spell. “Troika ships are coming online, burning hard for…” He paused for a moment, double-checking his readings, and then turned to the captain. “They’re coming for us,” he said hoarsely.

“Alter course, full burn for New Terra!” Remi shouted as the others hurried to comply. Xiulan brought the shuttle hard to port, making a beeline for the Precursor planet. “I don’t suppose this bucket has weapons?”

“None worth mentioning,” Slavko grimaced.

Remi nodded, taking that in. “Can we still beat them to Terra Nova?” he asked, hoping against hope.

The bridge crew brought up a plot showing both their trajectory and the headings of the Troika ships, then charted their courses in real-time as they projected their destinations. The pair digested the information, briefly sharing a quiet look before Xiulan slowly turned to face him. “I’m sorry, captain,” she said in heart-wrenching tones, “we’ll be within weapons range long before we can reach safety.”

“It appears our ally’s death didn’t buy as much time as we’d hoped,” he said, his words sounding positively funereal before his features hardened like stone. “Mairead? I don’t care how you do it, if you have to go outside and push, but get us to New Terra before they blow us out of the sky.” He looked over his shoulder, meeting her gaze. “That’s an order.”

“Aye, sir,” she swallowed, her hands flying across her console as she searched for any last bit of spare energy, though it was obvious from her expression it wouldn’t be enough.

We came so far, Remi thought bitterly to himself, and it still wasn’t enough. The gods must be laughing themselves silly at their expense, at the foolish mortals who thought they could change their fate. Oh, they’d fight it out to the bitter end, but it wouldn’t matter. They’d played their hand, and humanity was left holding a measly pair of twos once again. The sheer cruelty of it all was enough to…

“Status change!” the gunner shouted once more, whipping the captain’s head back around as he stared at the monitor in shock. “I’m showing dozens… hundreds of ships, all heading straight for us!”

“So… the Troika intends to make an example of us,” Remi said savagely. “Fine then. We’ll give them one hell of a show.”

“Sir, you don’t understand… those are Terran vessels!” Slavko howled with glee. “I’m showing Corsairs, Valkyries, Tinkers… all the clans are here!”

“What?” he said in disbelief, as Xuilan jerked her head up.

“Sir, I’m receiving a transmission,” as she brought up the main viewer. A familiar face stared back at them, aboard a very familiar ship.

“... You didn’t think I’d let you have all the fun, did you?” Samara cackled from Gyrfalcon’s bridge. “Besides, I knew I’d have to bail your ass out… again.” Her grin disappeared as she updated her plot. “Make for the planet. We’ll cover you,” she told him, “and don’t stop for anything.”

“You heard the lady,” he ordered the crew, as they raced forward to claim the prize.