After two weeks of lying in wait, recording the various ships arriving at and departing from Altinak, they were ready to make their move. They went to full alert after Xeno warned them that a ship meeting their requirements was inbound, with the trio taking their positions on the shuttle’s bridge.

“Have we verified their transponder signal?” Samara asked.

Kalypso peered at her instruments. “... confirmed. She’s the PCS Yōkai, a midrange transport ship. Best time to intercept, seventeen minutes.”

“Understood.” She glanced over at Xeno. “You picking up anything we should worry about?”

He put his hand to his implant, listening to the aether. “No, nothing,” he corroborated. “If we are going to do this, we should make our move soon.”

Nodding, she checked in with the last member of the crew. Anything, Guardian? she subvocalized to her alien companion.

... I see nothing out of place, he informed her. I doubt you will find a better candidate.

“Well then, since we’re all in agreement, Kalypso, bring the engines online and plot an intercept course,” she ordered, as she brought the sensors up and locked radar on the other ship. “Hot mic,” she warned them, as she began broadcasting to the other vessel.

“Protean Clan ship Yōkai, this is the Security shuttle Zorya,” she informed them, disclosing their forged identity. “You are ordered to shut down your engines and prepare to be boarded.”

A response came back almost immediately. “This is Captain Tamari of the Yōkai. By whose authority? I’ve been on this run for ten years and I’ve never been boarded.” He didn’t sound happy, nor did she blame him. She would have been irritated too.

Time to offer up the carrot. “I’m aware of that,” she answered, mellowing her tone slightly. “Because of the recent surge in terrorist activity directed at the Clan and its Patrons, and until we bring the guilty parties to justice, we have enacted additional security measures across the sector.” Samara paused for a moment and then leaned in conspiratorially. “I’m sure you’re aware of the situation.”

Tamari managed a brief nod in return. Obviously, a man used to playing his cards close to his vest.

“That’s why we’re here,” she continued. “With any luck, we can resolve the matter in short order, but until then we all have to adapt. You have my word; I will do everything in my power to keep this as brief as possible.”

The trio held their breath as they waited for a reply. If he chose not to believe them, they still had options, but the chance of the situation escalating would rise sharply. If they started screaming loudly enough for reinforcements, it might even force them to make a run for it. The seconds ticked by as her hand hovered over the controls, ready to alter course in a hurry if things went south when they got a response from the other ship.

“Security shuttle Zorya, I am shutting our engines down now,” the captain informed them. “My crew will stand by and await your arrival.”

Samara managed not to breathe a sigh of relief. “Understood, captain. Have your passengers remain in their cabins and meet us at the airlock with a copy of your manifest. Security shuttle Zorya, clear.” With that, she cut the transmission.

... Well done, Guardian said with approval.

“I can’t believe they bought it,” Kalypso said in disbelief.

“They have no reason not to,” Xeno pointed out. “Given the events we’ve put into motion, increased patrols only make sense.”

“We can pat ourselves on the back later,” Samara told the others. “First, get us to that ship, and then begin docking procedures.”

“I’m on it,” she assured her, adjusting their heading.

“I assume the plan has not changed?” Xeno inquired.

“It hasn’t,” Samara agreed. “You remain here while Kalypso and I cross over to the other ship.” Someone had to remain behind, and with his physical limitations, he was the obvious choice. “Once we’re inside and we verify we have the entire crew within visual range, we dose them with the Tranq grenade.” As luck would have it, the Chell shuttle had come well-stocked, though unfortunately, they hadn’t reacted quickly enough to use them.

“And if they aren’t all in one place? Or they prove to be as immune to the grenade’s effects as you are?”

“In that case, I whistle up my own personal ninja and do things the hard way,” she shrugged, before firing off another internal question. I assume my old friend Hosk is on standby? Samara asked Guardian.

... He is ready to intervene as needed, the Cognate assured her.

“And the passengers?” Kalypso asked. “What do we do with them?”

“Nothing,” she smiled. “We stash the crew somewhere out of sight, I shapeshift into Captain Tamari and hand them over to whoever is waiting for them. Once they’re out of the way, we can get to work.”

“It will take time to reconnoiter the structure, longer still to put our plans into action. How do you plan on justifying our continued presence, especially if they ordered us to depart?”

“Engine trouble,” she shrugged. “It’s the simplest explanation. We’ll figure out something to make it look convincing.”

Xeno slowly nodded. “The plan is still fraught with risk, but if we can maintain the element of surprise, I believe we may just have a chance.”

“Let’s hope so,” Samara said guardedly. “I didn’t come all this way just to fumble our biggest strike yet.”

“And after?” Kalypso whispered. “Assuming there is an after?”

“I don’t know,” she sighed. “I’m just trying to get through today.”

It took the better part of two hours for the two ships to match trajectories and dock. As promised, Captain Tamari and his crew were waiting for them just outside the airlock as the inner hatch cycled open.

“Captain,” Samara nodded, reaching out for his hand. “I’m Inspector Liva Chiang. I promise we’ll try to be as quick as possible.”

“I appreciate that Inspector,” he said curtly. “We’re on a tight schedule.”

“Of course. May I see your manifest?” she asked, as the captain handed it over. The others stood nearby, not quite in formation, but more orderly than a gaggle. She started matching names to faces, thankfully there was only a handful of crew, and…

“That’s Samara!” one of them screamed, pointing an accusing finger, “I saw Jibril shoot her on Ifig’uq!”

... Shit.

So much for plan A, she groaned, reaching behind her to grab the grenade as the crew reacted. Guardian! Any time! she shouted inside her head.

Captain Tamari swore, lunging for what had to be a hideout piece as she felt Hosk slide into the driver’s seat. Suddenly she was pivoting on the ball of one foot while the other whipped around for a vicious spin kick. The heel of her boot caught the captain in the temple, sending him crashing into the bulkhead, while Kalypso had unlimbered her stun pistol and was taking aim at one of the others.

They’d caught the crew by surprise, but as the two women went on the offensive they recovered quickly. The Tranq grenade was barely out of her hands before they forced her to tackle a rating who had turned and started running for the bridge. If he got there quickly enough, he could signal for help or lock down the ship. Thankfully, Hosk was just as aware of the danger as she was and was already moving, slamming the knife-edge of her hand into his neck just under the ear. The man staggered and then collapsed onto the deck, but she was already searching for her next target.

Kalypso had dropped one of the others and was shifting her aim as the grenade hissed. They’d need a few seconds for the gas to take effect, but as she sighted in on her next victim, she felt herself duck and dance out of the way as Hosk dodged a hammer swung at her head. The woman wielding it followed through on her back swing for another attempt, but this time they were ready for her. Samara felt the air whoosh past her face as she moved in, driving her back with a savage kick to her solar plexus. The hammer clattered to the deck as she stumbled back, gasping for breath, but now the Tranq gas had had time to spread. Each gulp of air weakened her efforts, leaving her reeling like a drunk until she too fell to the floor.

She turned just in time to see Kalypso drop the last crewman with a well-aimed shot, as they surveyed the damage. Five crew members, all incapacitated, either unconscious or heading in that direction as the gas took effect. She herself was immune, of course, while her partner had donned a simple mask.

“You had to show up looking like yourself? That was damn sloppy.” Kalypso snapped as she began checking the crew, glaring at her for a moment before turning away, focusing on other tasks. “I don’t see why we’re bothering to keep them alive,” she sniffed. “It’d be easier just to toss them out the airlock.”

Okay, Hosk, it’s over. Give me back control, she told the Cognate, grimacing as Kalypso’s comment struck home. Her inner ninja handed back the reins and returned to wherever he lived when he wasn’t helping her kick alien ass. “Because we might need them,” Samara countered, once she was in charge again. “Their biometrics, their knowledge, or as bargaining chips if things go south. We kill them now, and we have nothing.”

With a sigh, she bent down to grab a pair of legs and started dragging the unconscious crew member to the storage locker where suits were kept. Between the two of them, they quickly secured the crew with rope and strips of duct tape they’d secured from supplies, stripping the captain and one other of their uniforms.

“I should have worn an unfamiliar face,” Samara admitted as they locked the hatch. “Honestly, it didn’t even occur to me.”

“With all the trouble we’ve been causing? It damn well should have,” she hissed. “It’s not like our identities are a secret. It's poor tradecraft, and if we make mistakes like that now we’re dead.”

“Look, I screwed up. It won’t happen again. Now drop it, we’ve got work to do.” Kalypso looked as if she still had a few more comments to make, but she seemed to set them aside as they got down to business. Arriving at the bridge, the first order of business was to let Xeno know they were still on schedule.

He answered their call immediately. “I’m glad to hear you’re both well,” he said in obvious relief. “Were there any problems?”

Kalypso shot her look, but she ignored it. “Nothing we couldn’t handle,” she said. “We’ll resume course in just a few minutes. Hang back as far as you can and try not to get caught.”

“I will do my best,” he smiled. “Be safe, you two.” With that, he signed off.

“Get the engines back online,” Samara ordered, even as she pulled up a screen of her own. Between them they fired up the plants in short order, resuming the pre-programmed course as she began stripping out of her clothing. The captain’s uniform was much too big for her as is, but she was in the process of remedying that. As they’d hauled the crew to the storage room, she’d spent several minutes studying the captain closely, and after hearing him speak, copying him would pose no issues at all.

Kalypso was also changing, though she’d kept the black gloves she’d worn since their arrival to conceal her artificial hands. Maybe they weren’t as unique as Samara's face, but why take chances? They’d already rolled the dice and came up with eleven, but that was no reason to get cocky now.

... no pun intended.

She covered her face as a chuckle threatened to slip out, and given Kalypso’s mood, that could only end in a shouting match. Instead, she focused on Captain Tamari, his features and voice and mannerisms, fixing them in her head as she really changed. Her skin rippled as she began the transformation, adding several centimeters in height and broadening across the shoulders as the good captain emerged. The flesh settled back down as she... well, he now... reached for the uniform and got dressed. Straightening the collar and tugging at the jacket’s hem, Samara/Tamari turned to Kalypso. “Well? How does it look?”

The other woman gave her the once-over with a practiced eye. “It’ll do,” she said at last.

“Good,” she nodded, taking a seat and reaching for the mic as she punched up the ship-wide circuit. “All hands, this is the captain speaking,” she told them. “We apologize for the delay, but we are now back on course and headed for Altinak Base, ETA... two hours. Please remain in your cabins while we make our approach and dock. In order to make disembarking easier for all concerned, you will be notified when it is your turn to depart. Please have all items with you as you await the call. Thank you.” With that, she signed off.

“Not bad,” Kalypso admitted. “Should keep them from getting curious.”

“Let’s hope so,” Samara answered. “God knows we’re going to need every advantage we can get our hands on if we’re going to pull this off.”

The other woman snorted. Samara looked at her curiously as she struggled to keep her composure, but it soon became a losing battle. Kalypso burst out laughing, but it was a bitter, hysterical laugh, one more in common with a banshee’s wail than anything resembling true good humor.

“What the hell’s wrong with you?” Samara demanded.

It took her a couple of minutes to get herself back under control. Dabbing at her eyes, she turned to face her. “It’s just... you still think we’re going to survive,” she guffawed, as the madness threatened to break free.

Samara turned away, focusing instead on her piloting, though her words were hard to ignore. Guardian, do you think we have a chance? she asked the Cognate.

There was a long silence before it answered.

... There is always a chance, it said at last.

Samara sighed in defeat. “Great. Glad to see we’re all on the same page.”