The two Da’a’shori captains, Usora and Zirenna, were conferring quietly at the back of the Forsetti’s bridge, when Ikora came up to them, her body tense, almost vibrating with agitation. The Corsair, with two crews occupying its limited space, had been lying low in a deep crevice on a desolate moon orbiting Nthandi. Both women still had a hard time comprehending how Mr. Esplin had Traveled them right to the spot they currently occupied. The precise navigation, considering orbits, mass rotation, and a hundred of other things, seemed impossible to the two Da’a’shori captains.

  Ikora had been growing more impatient as the days dragged by. The Oshakati was to have Traveled just before their mission planet-side was to take place, and she was not dealing with the stressful tedium of the last few weeks well. It had gotten worse as the day finally approached for them to begin the next phase of their plan.

  “I just talked to Mr. Esplin. He still hasn’t received word on where our team is to be transported. Don’t they know we're at risk of discovery at any moment? This wasn’t the plan.”

  Zirenna looked at Usora and shared a look only captains could understand. Usora gave the other captain a small nod and left, heading to make her way around the deck stations, getting routine updates. They were on her data-pad, of course. Her crew knew their jobs. However, she preferred not to be around Ikora when she got worked up and thought it best to let her counterpart deal with the Oshakati’s first mate in her own way.

  How does she put up with that woman?

  Zirenna watched the Forsetti’s captain walk away, checking in with her crew. When she was sure no one else was looking in their direction, Zirenna grabbed her first mate’s arm at the elbow and led her through the aft starboard hatch. She maneuvered them into the Forsetti’s small conference room, located just off the command deck and hit the button to close the hatch.

  Zirenna wasn’t sure Ikora even noticed as she moved the irate woman from the bridge. She was fuming and going on about plans and being caught. Zirenna let the other woman go on for another minute, listening distractedly. She had her own concerns as well, but she knew better than to let her anxiety show.

  Ikora, taking a deep breath, belatedly realized they had left the bridge, and that Zirenna was watching her. She almost started up again, her anxiety trying its best to overtake her, but the captain cut her off.

  “Now’s not the time for this, Ikora. We’re not on the Oshakati, and I can’t shield you from any reports Usora might make. These outbursts of yours … they need to stop. I know you’ve been struggling since the Taskala system, but we’re not on the Oshakati. I can’t cover for you, not on Usora’s own ship.”

  “But Mr. Esplin—” Ikora said, again.

  “Enough!”

  Ikora rarely heard her friend and captain speak in that tone. It was quiet, yet full of hard command. And, rebuke. It was a tone that carried the full and utter authority of a Da’a’shori. That tone finally got through to Ikora, and she had the grace to look embarrassed.

  “I understand, we all understand, the dangers here, Ikora. We also know that Mr. Esplin is waiting for orders himself. We’ll only have one chance at this. If we screw up, the security around the empress will tighten, and we’ll never have another chance. This blasted system is so hard to enter, never mind navigate, that we need it to be in utter disarray before we can even consider beginning our campaign. The chaos that will erupt with the empress's death, with carefully constructed evidence to implicate her uncle, will push the system into civil war. The Great Houses and their alliances will splinter, and they will all be vying for the throne.”

  Zirenna could see that Ikora was calming and finally listening to her again.

  “We know all this. You know all this. And we’re all aware of the dangers of sitting in orbit around the most guarded planet in the system. Supposedly, she may be out of the imperial palace and at her celebration instead. Our contact wants to make sure of her location. These celebrations of hers are the best chance our assassination teams have at being successful. But if we deploy to the wrong spot and she isn’t there, we may as well advertise our presence before we are ready. That would be as disastrous as being caught in orbit. So, we wait.”

  Ikora nodded, acknowledging the Oshakati’s captain, knowing better than to say anything else on the matter.

  “Good. So, you can hold your tongue.”

  Zirenna saw Ikora flinch at the small rebuke and was pleased when her friend didn’t take the bait.

  “We’re guests on this ship, and while I still outrank Usora, this is the Forsetti, not the Oshakati. I’ll lead the mission, but anything and everything that happens on this ship is under her purview. That includes how you comport yourself. Be smart; don’t give her a reason to put your name in a report back to the fleet.”

  Ikora took a moment, before nodding her understanding.

  Zirenna paused, gathering her thoughts before changing the subject.

  “A few moments ago, Mr. Esplin let Usora and myself know that while he’s still waiting for orders, he has made a few inquiries of his own. The empress may have disappeared momentarily, but he has it on good authority that they are close to revealing her current location.”

  She held up a hand, forestalling her first mate's obvious objections.

  “I don't know how he knows this. Usora assures me that no communications have left this ship, but he says it’s true. We still don’t know the extent of what he is capable of with those powers.”

  She was about to continue when the hatch chimed and slid open. On the other side was Forsetti’s first mate, Presha, Ikora’s counterpart.

  “Mr. Esplin says it’s time to go. Usora asked me to let you know to get your team together. You’re leaving in thirty minutes.”

  “Thank you Presha. I’ll gather them now and meet Mr. Esplin on the hanger deck. The rest of my crew will be under First Mate Ikora’s command. She'll report to you and Usora. I’m sure they’re more than happy to pitch in wherever needed.”

  Both Ikora and Presha knew this, having taken part in the discussions with the captains, but Zirenna wanted it stated again, for Ikora's sake. She needed constant minding, much to the captain’s growing chagrin.

  Zirenna had talked to Ikora at length about this after the Forsetti rescued them from the Rishi. Their sister ship was supposed to play backup for the Oshakati, having extra equipment and supplies. With the Oshakati’s demise, and both Corsair crews now on one ship, there were logistic and command issues that had to be worked out. As they were on the Forsetti, her command structure would take lead, with Ikora being the Oshakati’s crew spokesperson while Zirenna was on her mission.

  Ikora did not like being left out of the action, but Zirenna couldn’t trust her first mate to control her emotions. Instead, she had devised a way for Ikora to feel needed, and important, smoothing things over with her friend.

  Presha nodded her acknowledgement and left the room, leaving the hatch open as she turned, making her way back to the command deck.

  “You know what’s at stake, Ikora. Not just for this mission, but what it means for the fleet and the crusade. If we can take this system and subjugate them, then we’ll have our first truly secure foothold in this part of the galaxy. It’s been a long time, before either of us were even born, that the Da’a’shori people could claim a safe haven outside our own borders.”

  “I understand. I won’t let you down,” Ikora replied, seeing the burning zeal in her captain’s eyes.

  Zirenna was a genuine believer. All Da’a’shori were believers, of course. However, for most, the multi-generational crusade to bring Truth and Light to the galaxy was merely their way of life. For Zirenna, it was more than that; it was a fire deep in her core that pushed her. It factored into each of her choices and decisions every single day. To Zirenna, the crusade was all important, and she strove to fulfill her part with excellence.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  “Good, I know I can count on you,” Zirenna said, reaching over to embrace her friend. “You and the crew still have important roles to play in this mission, not the least of which is to make sure myself and the rest of the team get off that moon safely.”

  Ikora hugged her friend back.

  “We’ll be there.”

  “See that you are,” Zirenna said with a small smile for her friend. She turned to leave and, as she stepped through the hatch, she heard Ikora quietly wish her the protection and guidance of the faithful that had come before.

  “And with you, Ikora,” Zirenna said, beginning to make her way to the hangar deck to meet with her team and get the latest reconnaissance from Mr. Esplin.

  How he knew what was going on the other moon was beyond Zirenna’s understanding. Usora had set a complete electronic signal blackout the moment they arrived on the desolate moon. Mr. Esplin assured the captains he would know when it was time to proceed. Usora assured her that while hidden, no signals had left the ship. Yet, Mr. Esplin still managed communication with his own resources. Somehow.

  ___________

  “Where’s Mr. Esplin?” Zirenna asked a few moments later when she arrived at the hangar.

  She had stopped by her quarters to gather a few last-minute provisions and changed out her uniform and into her disguise for the mission, before heading to the hanger deck where her infiltration team waited for her.

  Her second in command for the mission, Tala, the Oshakati’s weapons specialist, pointed to the office in the far corner of the cramped hanger. The young woman was by far the most proficient hand to hand fighter in the O’ta’ki martial discipline Zirenna had ever known, and was, perhaps, her most valued asset on this mission.

  With a nod of acknowledgment, Zirenna headed that way, making her way through the infiltration force as they were getting ready to deploy. Her people were relaxed, but alert, going through their individual pre-mission rituals. They had deployed together countless times over the years, working to bring the lost people of the galaxy to the enlightenment only the Da’a’shori could offer. Each of her team was cross trained to where they could do any job required of them if one of their numbers fell.

  For this mission, Mr. Esplin’s contacts had procured uniforms that matched what the wait staff wore in the imperial palace. He brought them aboard the last time he visited the Forsetti, before being assigned to Morales Station. The crew had taken apart the uniforms, seam by seam, tailoring them to each team member. They also added hidden pockets and armor plates sewn into the lining. Their regular gear, coal black body armor with a full weapons load-out, was out of place this time. This mission was to rely on subterfuge and not on brute force.

  The plan had them infiltrating the wait staff. They were counting on the celebrations to have required an influx of unfamiliar faces. It was an open celebration with no planned schedule for the empress. Zirenna preferred a much more structured plan, but this was the best time for unknown persons to get close to the empress, and so her team had to remain flexible.

  The empress almost never left the palace, and when she did, it was under direct control of her Honor Guard, who were beyond loyal. Normally, getting in to the imperial estates would have been a non-starter, but the celebrations were causing gaps in the security.

  The captain was considering all of this as she approached the closed door to the office. She knocked, waiting a half beat before entering.

  The office was tiny. Not much larger than a utility closet. Monitors covered one wall, showing all manner of information required to run flight operations off a Corsair hangar deck. Below the monitors sat a small, spartan desk, that despite its diminutive size, filled the office from wall to wall.

  Zirenna stood in the doorway for a moment, not seeing Mr. Esplin. There was nowhere to hide in the tight confines of the office. The door opened tight against the wall, with just enough clearance for a chair and the desk.

  She turned around, letting the door close behind her, and walked back over to her team.

  “Has anyone seen Mr. Esplin?” she asked, while looking at her data-pad. “We’re T-Minus twenty minutes from go time. I was told he was here.”

  “I saw him go into the office just before you got here, Zirenna. Didn’t see him come out.” Their munitions expert, Rae said.

  The rest of the team perked up at this, eyes narrowing as they look at each other. They were on high alert, their adrenaline spiking pre-mission, just as hers always did.

  By the splintered path!

  She was about to call the command deck and ask Usora if she knew anything when she heard a click behind her. Spinning around, reaching for her side arm that wasn’t in its accustomed place because she was already in her disguise. Her eyes grew wide as she saw Mr. Esplin step through the doorway.

  Immediately the entire hangar deck stilled, every pair of eyes trained intently on the man who had just stepped from the office that seconds ago sat empty. He had a casual air about him, ignoring the intense stares directed his way by battle-hardened soldiers.

  Zirenna stood, speechless. Was her mind playing tricks on her? She checked the office out, right? There wasn’t a nook behind the door or something. No, she knew every inch of a Corsair. He had not been in the office seconds before.

  With a shake of her head, trying to regain her composure, she glanced around the deck, noticing the stillness.

  “Everyone, finish getting ready. We’re mission-go in less than twenty minutes.”

  Her team immediately went back to their preparations. They’d trained with Zirenna and gone on countless sorties with her. Her team trusted her and followed her commands without hesitation. They knew she would get to the bottom of whatever had happened.

  “Mr. Esplin.”

  “Captain Zirenna,” Mr. Esplin said, with a slight nod of his head.

  The well-mannered formality made Zirenna bristle, but she fought to project a cool, detached demeanor.

  “May I ask where you were? I was just in that office. Unless you’ve a way to make that utility closet bigger than it seems, you weren’t in there.”

  “And if I told you I could, in fact, do just that?” he said, with a small glint in his eyes.

  Zirenna paused. She had not been prepared for that answer. Could he, in fact, do such a thing? There was just so much about these Powers her people did not know. She knew, though, from limited experience, she would not get a straight answer from this man. Instead, she focused on the mission.

  “Are we good to go, Mr. Esplin?”

  “We are. I was just confirming that the location was secure. It’s a tighter fit than I was led to believe, so we'll have to go in pairs, not including myself. We’ll be going to the Cultivation Palace. I received word that is where the empress is heading.”

  Zirenna didn’t understand that and liked it less. However, this part of the infiltration was in the hands of this man, and she had no say in it. She still was not clear about what was going to happen.

  “The Cultivation Palace? Not the Imperial Palace?” Zirenna said, looking down at her uniform.

  “Not to worry, Captain. There’s so many people coming and going, you’ll still blend right in.”

  Zirenna seethed at all the unknowns, but she had her instructions. She was to get her ship in position at a specified time, with Mr. Esplin on board. She was to follow his lead for this part of the mission and that he would facilitate transfer to the surface location. The frustrating man refused to give her specifics anytime they talked, ensuring her he had it under control. Zirenna, Usora, and the rest of her team assumed they would use Mr. Esplin’s shuttle to Travel. From there, it would be back to conventional tactics and movements.

  Now, he said they would go in pairs. That made no sense. The shuttle could fit her team, an uncomfortable fit to be sure, but they had planned for that. She was a good Da’a’shori, though. She would do as she was told.

  Mr. Esplin looked at his own data-pad.

  “Captain, as we’ll be having to make extra trips, I propose we go now. The area can only be secured for so long.”

  “Agreed,” Zirenna said, her professionalism shunting away any hesitation as she turned to address her team. “Ok people, here we go. You all know the plan. Slight change in how we are getting there. Mr. Esplin says we can only go two at a time. Pair off and line up.”

  Zirenna was pleased to see her team adapt to the new orders. They had plans for the Imperial Palace, as well as the locations for each of the nine nights of celebrations. They had prepared for every eventuality.

  Mr. Esplin glanced up from his data-pad, pleased himself. These Da’a’shori really knew how to follow commands.

  “We’ll be going to the Cultivation Palace instead. Bring up those maps on your data-pads. Once Mr. Esplin gets you to the location, proceed directly out of the area and disperse as planned. The transit between groups will be quick. I don’t want anyone tripping over someone else.”

  “Good,” Callon said as the team smoothly adapted to the changes. “First pair with me, in the office.”

  The first pair followed Mr. Esplin. He caught Zirenna’s eye while closing the door and gave her a wink. She frowned. This man was too casual for her liking.

  She wasn’t sure how long they needed to wait, but before she could contemplate the thought, the door opened, and Mr. Esplin waved in the next pair.

  Within a few moments, it was Zirenna and her partner, Tala, waiting on the empty hangar deck. They could feel the thrum of the engines in the deck plating, and Zirenna absently thought they felt a bit misaligned; she would have to let Usora know when she returned to the Forsetti.

  Mr. Esplin opened the door one last time and gestured for the pair to enter the office. Zirenna approached, allowing Tala to enter first, passing Mr. Esplin before standing shoulder to shoulder in the tiny office. Mr. Esplin didn’t bother to shut the door this time.

  “No need for the theatrics this time, no one to watch them, anyway.”

  The infuriating man winked at Zirenna again as he pulled a small tin out of his pocket and put something in his mouth. The cloying smell of vanilla quickly filled the small office. After a few seconds, during which his eyes grew hazy, before burning brightly, Callon stepped closer to the two women.

  “Hold on,” Mr. Esplin said, reaching out his hands, one for each of the Da’a’shori.

  They did so hesitantly, clearly out of their comfort zone, which was saying something as they had seen, and done, a lot of strange things in their mission to bring enlightenment to the galaxy.

  “Tut, Tut, captain. You don’t have to hold on for dear life. Think of it more as if we are going on a lazy afternoon stroll.”

  Zirenna, embarrassed by the remark, loosened her grip, much to Mr. Esplin’s obvious enjoyment. She was about to ask what was going to happen next when the deck dropped away from her, and she plunged into darkness.