Paygan Kuosha Xeing stared out at the fleet, his hand wrapped tightly around the hilt of his sword, his features a mask of stone. They had assembled quickly, far more rapidly than he had expected. In fact, it was almost too prompt a mustering… as if perhaps the various races and nations had already gathered their forces to prepare for this moment, merely awaiting the chance to strike. But of course, that was ridiculous, and should he ask any of the captains and admirals scattered throughout the armada, each would assure him it was mere happenstance that brought them to this place with such alacrity.

Carrion-eaters, awaiting the spoils, he thought in disgust, looking away.

No one in the galaxy's history, save perhaps the legendary Precursors themselves, had ever wielded a force as powerful as the one which now surrounded him. Not since the first Yīqún invasion two centuries prior, the same onslaught that destroyed the Terran homeworld, had the cosmos seen such a gathering of ships, and even then, there had been those who refused the call.

Not this time.

Even if the Terrans had not galvanized them into action by attacking the To’uuk, they would still be here, salivating like ravenous beasts over all they hoped to plunder from the Demon Planet… New Terra. And when they finally secured their baubles and trinkets, before retreating to their lairs to unravel their secrets, their ships would gather once more in the depths of space, eager to test their newfound strength against their rivals. And when that day came… the galaxy would burn.

How do they not see this? the Paygan railed, his lone voice unheard in the darkness, How can they be so blind? For the storm that awaited them would be far worse than any they had weathered before. Not even when the Yīqún reemerged, ravaging all that lay in their path, had the galaxy experienced a war like the one looming on the horizon. To every race and species, the Precursors were synonymous with power, and they would not rest until they had secured it for themselves. And once they had, what then? For a weapon unused is a weapon wasted in the eyes of such beings. Power for its own sake, regardless of the consequences.

Not so long ago, when the Alliance was still new, he had dreamed of a better world, a place where conflicts might be resolved across a table, not the gun deck of a battle cruiser. The Ixi might be a race of warriors, but it was the challenge, the testing of one’s mettle, that spurred them, not bloodshed. The most extraordinary bout he ever fought ended with nothing more than a scratch, and that had been an engagement in which he lost.

That future had seemed so close, once. Now? All he could taste was ashes.

A figure appeared at his elbow, bowing with respect. “The fleet stands ready, Paygan,” his second informed him, “and awaits your command.”

His thoughts were light-years distant as he heard himself respond. “Inform them to lay in a course,” he ordered, “for the Terran homeworld.”

Forgive me, Rúna. It seems I have come for my sword after all.

After two full days spent dodging government forces, Colonel Holme finally called a halt. The ancient Precursor metropolis they’d arrived in looked much like the others on the planet, whatever differences that might exist between them were difficult to discern. The convoy parked their newly gained vehicles inside a structure that was open to the outdoors, one whose original purpose was unknown. However, it kept them hidden from anyone searching from the air, which was all that mattered.

Stepping out of the transport, Maggie took a few moments to stretch, trying to work out the kinks she’d acquired during their journey. It seemed like it got harder every year. Once she’d dealt with the worst of it, she took Blye’s hand and guided her out as well, though she really didn’t need it. Despite her impediment, she got around better than most sighted folks.

“Where are we?” the Knight asked.

“Beats me,” Maggie shrugged. “Precursor city. Not sure where, though.”

“We’re calling it ‘Zinderneuf’,” Captain Inaba said from behind them, “after an old fictional fort back on Earth. It seemed appropriate.”

As they spoke, the other Valkyries were already hard at work, setting up a defensive perimeter and offloading the vehicles. They had liberated many of the weapons on display from the depot, Precursor technology that left the Tinker deeply unsettled. Who knew what those things were capable of?

“We near the prison camp?” she asked the captain.

“Within striking distance,” Inaba agreed. “We didn’t want to set up a base too close, for fear of being spotted. According to our records, this city hasn’t been explored yet, which means it should be deserted.”

“So when are we leavin’?” Maggie demanded. “We’ve done wasted enough time already.”

“Maggie,” Blye said gently, “I’m certain they’ll rescue Diggs and the others as soon as they can.”

“The Chevalier is right,” Inaba agreed. “We’re not moving out until we’ve got a solid plan in place, one that we’ve thoroughly rehearsed. We go in and try to play it by ear, we’re liable to get people killed… people like your son.” Maggie grimaced at that but found it hard to disagree. “Besides,” she continued, “we still need to figure out how to free your friend Samara.”

“We’re not ‘friends’, exactly,” Blye demurred, “more like ‘associates’, or maybe ‘acquaintances’.”

“I dunno,” Maggie said after a moment, “she likes you well enough, what with savin’ her life. Me, she sort of tolerates.”

“Well, you did electrocute her,” Blye pointed out.

“I beg your pardon?” the Valkyrie said in disbelief.

“Hey! I zapped myself too!” the Tinker protested.

Inaba looked askance at the Knight, who shrugged helplessly. “It’s a long story,” she sighed.

The captain took a moment to process all of that before finally shaking her head. “Whatever. The point is, we’ve never tried unfreezing a person before, we only tested the Stasis gun on plants. If we don’t do this right, we could end up killing her. Or worse.”

“Worse?” Blye said in shock, “what could possibly be worse?” Just as the words left her mouth she froze, reliving some private moment, then shuddered hard. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”

“Can’t say I blame you,” Inaba agreed. “But you see our problem.”

“Too bad we can’t ask her for help,” the Tinker groused. “Bet her pal Guardian would have some ideas.”

“Unfortunately, that’s not an option,” the Valkyrie said tersely. “I don’t suppose you have any practical suggestions?”

“Sure. Stand way the hell back when you do it,” Maggie retorted.

“Duly noted,” Inaba replied. “Anything else?”

“I think Maggie and I should be there with you,” Blye offered. “It might give her pause, if she sees us first.”

“Good idea,” the captain agreed. “I’ll inform you both when we’re ready to make the attempt. In the meantime,” she continued, “we’re going to be busy for a while, getting set up here. I’d suggest grabbing some chow and rest; if we’re discovered, we may have to pull out in a hurry.” With that, she headed for one of the nearby clusters of marines and started issuing orders.

Maggie turned and glared at her companion. “Did you have to go and volunteer us?”

“It’s a little late to be quibbling about that now, don’t you think?” Blye reminded her. “Come on, let’s find some food.” Taking her elbow, she let the Tinker guide her as they searched for something to eat.

It was several hours later when they gathered once more in an outdoor plaza close to where they’d set up camp. Placing Samara’s… statue?... at the center, they’d constructed a low wall with crates, behind which those taking part in their little experiment stood, along with a security detail… all armed with Precursor weapons. Hard to blame them, really, but the sight still left Maggie uneasy.

Sitting on the barricade lay the Stasis gun; a blunt, dull-looking device that looked more like a spare engine part than a weapon. Colonel Holme and Captain Inaba stood nearby as the two women approached.

“We’re almost ready to give it a try,” the captain informed them. “Any final thoughts?”

“Yeah… don’t miss,” Maggie snorted.

Reaching down and carefully picking up the gun, Holme gave her an old-fashioned look. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said dryly.

“Sir, I’d like to renew my objection to you being the one firing the weapon,” Inaba said quietly. “If something went wrong…”

“Your objection is noted,” the colonel interrupted, cutting her off. “I’m afraid this is one of those occasions that calls for a more personal form of leadership. Besides,” he said with a lopsided smile, “never order your troops to do something you wouldn’t do yourself.”

“Yes, Sir,” she said in resignation, before stepping back.

“Where do you want us?” Blye asked him.

“That’s a good question,” Holme said thoughtfully. “Are you comfortable standing at my side?”

“Of course,” the Knight agreed.

“See? There you go volunteerin’ us again,” Maggie grumbled.

“And where would you suggest we stand?” Blye said in disgust.

“‘Bout ten kilometers that way,” she fired back, jerking her head toward the rear.

The Knight sighed. “You realize I can’t see what direction you’re indicating, right?”

“... never mind,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Now that we have that settled,” the colonel said impatiently, “security detail, stand by. You are not to fire your weapons or point them at the target unless I give the order. Is that understood?”

“Sir,” Inaba began, only to be cut short once more.

“It’s a risk we have to take,” he told her, hefting the weapon. “Samara is too valuable an ally to lose because of an error in judgment.”

“Yes, Sir,” she said quietly.

“All right,” the colonel asserted, socking the gun’s butt into his shoulder and taking aim, “here goes nothing.” He breathed in normally, and then slowly let it out, firming up his sight picture before gently squeezing the trigger.

A bright flash seemed to explode before their eyes, momentarily blinding those gathered except for Blye. Maggie blinked repeatedly, trying to clear her vision, only to stare in shock as she spotted Samara, returned once more to her natural state.

… For the first half-second, that is.

From Samara’s perspective, she had just been transported to an unknown location, while everything around her changed in the literal blink of an eye. Her last conscious memory was her being ambushed, and after spending the greater part of her life as an assassin, as a terrorist (or freedom fighter, depending on your point of view), and as the host of countless Precursor Avatars, a single thought now burned in her brain.

DANGER.

And long experience had taught her well how to respond to danger.

Maggie’s eyes grew wide in the split-second Samara used to take in her new surroundings before reacting. Her body rippled, shifting form between heartbeats… and what emerged was the stuff of nightmares.

A beast, a monster had taken her place, and before the Tinker knew what was happening it charged, closing the distance between them far faster than a being that size should have been capable. It was a creature defined by razor-sharp claws and jagged teeth and glistening spines, covered in scales, while blood-red eyes glared back at her with deadly intent. Not even the Yīqún drone she’d once fought terrified her as much as what was coming for her now.

“Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck OH FUCK!” she screamed, stumbling back away, but there was nowhere to run, and no place to hide. The security team struggled to ready their own weapons, but they were too slow by half, hobbled by official orders and unfamiliar technology. Inaba scrabbled for her sidearm, but even if she could draw it in time… unlikely… it would do her no good. Samara would shrug off the damage without so much as a thought before tearing them to shreds.

And then someone stepped in front of her, spreading their arms wide.

“... Samara, STOP!” they shouted… just as the creature howled and leapt.

… All Samara could see was a threat to be eliminated, as her beast form roared with fury. In the distant background she could hear Guardian clamor for attention, but that would have to wait. Whoever had attacked her would suffer the consequences of their folly, just like all the others before. She could see the terror on their faces, smell the stink of their fear, as she smiled coldly in anticipation of the kill.

And then a figure positioned themselves in her path, shouting for her to halt.

Fool, she laughed in that last second as she pounced, I’ll take you first…

… wait… Blye?

Realizing her mistake too late, with gravity and momentum dictating her trajectory, Samara did the only thing she could to avoid disaster. With every bit of will she possessed, she shifted back into her natural state, tucking her body in tight as she managed an aerial somersault, just clearing their heads before landing behind the barricade with a tuck and roll. She sprang to her feet and whirled to face them, her body tensed as she prepared to defend herself.

“... goddamnit, you crazy bitch, it’s us!” Maggie shouted at her, tearing her away from her predator-like focus, forcing her to reassess her environment.

… I do not believe you are in danger, at least for the moment, Guardian concurred, unless you continue to act aggressively.

Forcing herself to slowly relax, Samara rose to her full height, taking in a deep breath.

“All right… would someone like to explain just what the hell is going on?” she demanded.

The group looked nervously at one another before Blye finally shrugged.

“It’s sort of complicated…” she began, while the assassin raised a questioning eyebrow.