It had taken a great deal of digging on Ess Peon’s part to finally discover Samara’s fate. They had buried the information deep, and only with a great deal of hard work… and no small amount of good fortune… was she able to learn the truth. Assuming her sources were accurate, it seemed the Protean shapeshifter and Precursor host was still alive after all.

Sort of.

She didn’t pretend to understand how the “Stasis gun” worked, whatever its real name was, but she’d dug up enough references to discover that it didn’t kill the target, instead merely rendering it powerless. In theory, it was possible to reverse the process, though thus far she hadn’t been able to find out how. Worse, even if she did, it would likely require getting her hands on the weapon they’d used on her. Being an Avatar, she didn’t have hands, not ones that could interact with the physical world, at least.

So without someone from the corporeal side of things stepping in, her plan to free Samara from her bonds and set her loose on the clan leaders was a bust. At the moment, the only person she’d dared risk contact with was Maggie, who, despite her many talents, wasn’t suited for a commando raid on a Valkyrie weapons bunker. What she needed were a few warriors of her own, but unfortunately, the only ones she actually trusted were all locked up. At least she’d found the camp’s location, but contacting Rúna or the others was impossible. They’d rigged an electrical field around the perimeter, functioning much like a Faraday Cage. As long as it was up, she wasn’t getting in.

Which meant she either had to give up on that plan or recruit some help. Even if Maggie herself wasn’t qualified, she’d proved trustworthy so far. Perhaps she knew someone? It was a long shot, but then so were all her other options. Taking a quick peek into her domicile, Ess discovered the Tinker was no longer home, and by the looks of things wasn’t planning on returning anytime soon. Well, that was a problem. With an electronic sigh, she dove back into the datanet and got to work, finally tracking her down at the home of a Priestess of Terra.

Huh. Interesting.

Peering closer, she discovered there was a third individual with them, and it took little digging on her part to discover she was none other than Chevalier Deuxième Blye Tagata, Maggie’s old shipmate from the Earth mission. She quickly pulled up the Knight’s bio, nodding in satisfaction. It was obvious the old Tinker had gone to her for help, who then turned to her mentor, Priestess Sariah Ntombi. They both seemed reliable enough, though of course there was no way to be certain.

Only one way to find out.

Once again, the Ixian homeworld of Achxii was hosting a conference, though this time for a very different reason. Paygan Kuosha Xeing observed the proceedings from a secluded spot on the balcony, praying to his ancestors he was mistaken regarding the mood of the room.

Sadly, they did not appear to be listening.

The oversized chamber was filled with races from every corner of the galaxy, including several he knew only by reputation. Many were members of the Alliance, though they were not the only ones in attendance. The Troika were represented as well, and perhaps most surprising of all, the Oivu had sent a quintet of envoys to speak on their behalf. To his knowledge, no one had ever seen the merchant plant beings outside of their own ships, but they were here now, and in earnest deliberations with the other delegates.

Perhaps an even more disturbing development was how easily the Troika emissaries had been accepted by the other species. For five thousand years, the Perseus Arm had chafed under their rule, only to be welcomed here and now as bosom comrades. It had barely been a year since the battle of Terra Nova, he cursed under his breath, the biggest and bloodiest clash of arms the galaxy had ever witnessed. A year ago, they had been doing their absolute best to kill one another, but now? A single purpose united them.

The destruction of the Terran race.

The Paygan watched this strange dance of diplomacy with a growing sense of dread. He knew the Terrans as few others of his race did, and all that had transpired in the last few weeks had left him badly off balance. They were acting irrationally, almost as if they courted battle with the races now allied against them. It was a foolish act, their ships were old and obsolete, far too few in number to be a genuine threat. Of course, they could simply remain behind the protection of the Demon planet itself, but if that were their intention, why attack the To’uuk?

Why go deliberately out of their way to provoke war with the galaxy?

He retreated within himself, reflecting on the situation. What left him the most troubled was that he knew the Terrans, having fought both against and beside them in some of the most fearsome combat he had ever experienced. Many times had he thought his end had come at last, though each time he survived to fight another day. The Terrans were courageous warriors, capable of savagery if cornered, and yet what had surprised him most about them was their compassion. Unlike some other races he could mention, they did not go out of their way to inflict harm on their enemies, and when the battle was over, it was over. He himself had once been their prisoner, and while it had been an unpleasant experience, it could have easily been much, much worse.

Why are they doing this? he asked himself yet again. They were well aware of the effect these events were having on the other races, his conversations with the Terran ambassador had made that clear. Genvass had claimed that rogue elements were responsible, that their government only wished for peace, and he wanted to believe that, but the facts before him told a very different tale. Many times now the Terrans could have intervened, or simply reassured their former allies, but instead, there was only silence.

A flurry of activity below drew his attention as the various delegates hurriedly returned to their seats. At the center of it all sat the emperor, Yuubazh the Munificent, overseeing the conference though saying little to its participants. Through functionaries, he had moderated the event, but now, as he rose to his feet, a hush fell over the crowd. The Paygan himself leaned forward as his cousin spoke.

“Distinguished guests, fellow delegates, and diplomatic emissaries, the time has come to decide upon our course of action. Much has been said in this chamber, with arguments heard from many perspectives, and now a motion has been made to call for a vote. A ‘Yea’ vote is for the initiation of formal hostilities with the Terran government, while a ‘Nay’ vote calls for pursuing a diplomatic solution to the crisis. Please, indicate your preference now.”

The Paygan watched as the tally board recorded the votes. It did not take long.

Yuubazh the Munificent, emperor of the Ixian race, waited until the final results were tallied before pronouncing judgment. “The conference has spoken,” he intoned. “Two thousand five hundred seventy-three votes ‘Yea’, sixteen votes ‘Nay’. The motion is carried.” Retaking his seat, he looked out over the audience. “This body, henceforth to be known as the Grand Alliance, officially declares that a state of war now exists between this confederation and the Terran government. May our ancestors look upon this decision with favor.”

Bowing his head, the Paygan could only weep bitter tears.

Rúna leaned up against a prefab as she scanned the perimeter. There were dozens of others milling about the yard, with many casting a nervous eye toward the guard towers. Since their arrival, the sentries had mostly left them alone; as long as the prisoners obeyed the rules, they were content with a hands-off approach. There had been a few incidents, including a pair of detainees being cut down when they tried scaling the fence. The message had been both graphic and brutally effective. Afterward, no one else attempted to escape.

She cocked her head as a familiar face exited the barracks, making their way toward the compound. He was a guard she’d done business with in the past; specifically, he’d been her contact when she smuggled out the letter to Captain Inaba. He paused for a moment, surveying the camp, before locking eyes with her and giving a nod. She stretched, working out the kinks before ambling over in his direction. Rúna kept her movements loose and casual, not wanting to arouse suspicion, until she finally linked up with her contact.

“Got a smoke?” she asked him.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a pack of cigarillos and tapped one out for her, then gave her a light as she inhaled deeply. “Thanks,” she nodded. A quick glance from the corner of her eye confirmed no one was paying attention to them. “What’s the news?”

“You got a reply,” he told her, showing her a bit of paper before it disappeared once more. “Gonna cost you, though.”

Wordlessly, she reached into her own pocket and held out a chronograph. She’d had it for years, and while the case was scratched and worn, it was a top-quality piece. He eyed it for a moment and then nodded. “That’ll do. Gimme.”

“Letter first,” she insisted, holding it just out of reach.

“At the same time,” he countered, clearly not trusting her.

“Deal,” she agreed, the pair eyeing one another before making the swap. The letter disappeared inside her pocket as she turned and wandered off, the deal now complete, her heart pounding as she headed toward their quarters. Becca and Arthur peeled off from their overwatch positions, joining her inside as she made a beeline for their de facto command center. Genvass and the others looked up as she entered the room, removing the note and showing it to them. “My contact says it’s a reply to my letter,” she informed them. “Keep your fingers crossed.”

“Let’s hear it,” the ambassador urged, as she unfolded the single sheet of paper and read aloud.

Yuenü,

I’m so happy you’ve found time to relax! The spa sounds heavenly, in fact, I just might have to wrangle some time off myself and join you. :) Would it be all right if I brought someone? You remember Miles Haole, don’t you? Well, we’ve been spending a lot of time together lately, and I just know he’d enjoy seeing you again. We can share a bottle and reminisce about old times.

Keep an eye out for me,

Valérie

“Who’s Miles Haole?” the ambassador asked her.

“I don’t know. It must be an anagram,” she answered, thinking hard for a moment before her eyes went wide. “Holy Mother Terra,” she whispered, “Colonel Elias Holme.”

“I thought you said he couldn’t be trusted?” Remi said with suspicion.

“I said it was too great a risk,” she corrected him. “But if Inaba trusts him…”

“How do we know this isn’t a trap?” Taneka demanded.

“If it is, then we’re screwed anyway,” she snorted. “I mean, we’re already in lockup.”

“Taking that letter at face value,” Genvass interjected, “it sounds like they not only believe you but are also willing to help. Are they planning to break us out?”

“Sure sounded like it to me, Sir,” she agreed. “Question is, can they pull it off?”

“I don’t see anyone else lining up,” Remi said pointedly. “Like you said, we have to trust somebody at some point.” The others all nodded in agreement. “If they are planning a breakout,” he continued, “what can we do to help?”

Her brow furrowed as she considered the problem. “I can think of a couple different ways this could play out,” Rúna decided. “The obvious one is they come in guns blazing, hit the camp hard and fast. If that’s their plan, the best way to help is us staying out of their way until it’s over. It’ll be absolute chaos, and us adding to it won’t do anyone any favors.”

“And the other option?” the ambassador pressed her.

“The second one is trickier,” she admitted. “They might try a sneakier approach, maybe coming in with a convoy and forged documents stating that we’re being moved to another camp for added security or something. If they can pull it off, it means getting out of here with a minimum of bloodshed. If that’s their play, the best way to assist is to simply follow the guard’s orders while they herd us into the trucks.”

“Risky,” Taneka mused. “One misplaced signature, a single suspicious guard, and the whole goes south in a big damn hurry.”

“Which means they’ll be forced to fall back on the first option,” Rúna grimaced, “only with no warning and without the element of surprise. It’ll get messy.”

“How messy?” Genvass inquired.

She gave him a look. “Lots of bodies,” she clarified. “Most of them will be ours.”

“Lovely,” he sighed. “In that case, all we can do is wait.”

“I want to move my people,” the Valkyrie informed him. “When this goes down, it’ll happen fast. I want to station the squad in key locations so they can help shepherd the other prisoners when the time comes. We can’t warn them in advance, unfortunately, otherwise, the guards might get wind of it, but we can have our people in position and ready to go at a moment’s notice. Could make all the difference.”

“Good idea,” the ambassador agreed. “Whatever you need, you’ll get it.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Rúna said, as she turned for the door… only to pause, gnawing on her lip as she gave him a plaintive look.

“Captain Hadad? Captain Taneka? If you could give us the room,” Genvass said politely. The pair glanced over at the Valkyrie before rising to their feet and shuffling out the door.

“Something you want to talk about?” he asked her.

“It’s nothing, Sir,” she demurred.

“I must respectfully disagree,” Genvass contended. “Whatever it is, you know you can talk to me, don’t you?” He smiled, hoping to put her at ease.

Rúna sighed. “It’s nothing,” she repeated, taking one of the vacated seats. “It’s silly, really.”

“Try me,” he urged her.

She closed her eyes, sighing once more. “I traded my chronometer to get that letter,” she said at last. Opening her eyes once more, she met his gaze. “It was a gift. From Kai.”

The ambassador winced as his hand covered hers. “I’m sorry, Rúna.”

She nodded, her voice now filled with emotion. “It was the last actual link I had to him,” she said softly. “And now that it’s gone, it’s like he never existed.” Her eyes grew misty as she fought back tears. “It was all I had to trade with.”

Squeezing her hand, he forced a smile onto his face. “If anyone understood that, it would be him,” he reminded her. “And if trading away that chronometer means saving your life, I think he’d call that a bargain.”

A sob briefly caught in her chest before she forced it back down. In the end, she slowly nodded in agreement. “He would,” Rúna said at last, “he was pragmatic to a fault.” Taking a shaky breath, she rose to her feet. “I should get started moving my people,” she told him.

“Of course,” he agreed.

The Valkyrie paused at the door as if to say something, before shaking her head and exiting the room.