The Bamidh freighter Taisen Jit docked early the next morning. Blye and her team arrived at the loading bay with their personal gear, just as the mission supplies were being loaded onboard. One of the crew was overseeing the cargo being stowed as the trio made their way over to them. The hairless alien stood roughly chest high compared to the humans, its four eyes narrowing with suspicion as they approached.

“Greetings,” she said. “I am Chevalier Deuxième Blye Tagata, and with me are Chevalier Cinquième Prashant Dibra and Chevalier Quatrième Amar Svoboda. We’ll be traveling with you to Taing’zem.”

The crewmember grunted in reply, jerking his head towards the open hatch. “Captain’s in there,” he informed them, before turning his attention back to the pile of crates and boxes waiting to be loaded.

“Thank you,” she smiled, her best bedside manner on display as she motioned to Prash. “Make sure we’ve got everything on the list before we depart,” she ordered, dropping off their personal luggage.

“Yes, ma’am,” he agreed, pulling out his tablet as he began checking the inventory. The crewman grunted once more, already done with the conversation.

Blye and Amar made their way to the open hatch and stepped across the threshold, searching for the ship’s captain. The ship was almost as old as many Terran vessels, with obvious patch jobs located almost randomly as they made their way through the corridors. Despite the alien construction, the layout was similar to other craft they were familiar with, allowing them with only a couple of wrong turns to finally make their way to the bridge. A pair of Bamidh studying the navigational display looked up as they entered.

“Is one of you the captain?” Blye asked. “We’re your passengers to Taing’zem.”

“Captain Shunaadh,” the one on the left answered. “This is my pilot, Okaat.” The one on the right gave them a nod. “So you’re the ones that volunteered for this catastrophe,” the captain continued, shaking his head in disbelief.

“So did you, apparently,” Blye answered coolly.

“Volunteer?” The captain scoffed at her. “My crew and I are getting paid… paid quite well, in fact. It’s the only reason we’d put ourselves in jeopardy like this.”

Blye and Amar shared a look. “Well, whatever the reason, we’re glad you were available,” she continued, ignoring their motives. “How long will it take us to get there?”

“About three weeks, more or less,” Okaat shrugged. “Have to avoid the primary transit lanes. Lots of ships disappearing in those sectors.”

“Of course,” Blye nodded. There’d be plenty of time to investigate that during the trip, assuming they didn’t end up as casualties themselves.

“Okaat, show them their cabin,” the captain ordered. “You’ll have to share space between you. This isn’t a big ship.”

“I’m sure it will be fine,” she assured him. “Are there any shipboard rules we should know about?”

“Stay in your cabin, or the common areas,” Captain Shunaadh informed them. “If you need access to the hold, one of the crew will escort you. Other than that? Just stay out of our way.”

“Understood,” she agreed. At least they weren’t actively hostile. No small comfort, that.

Okaat waved them to follow as he led them to their cabin, a tiny compartment not much bigger than a broom closet. “Head is down the corridor,” he informed them. “As for food, that’s on you. This isn’t a passenger liner. If you run short, we might sell you some of our extras, but it won’t be cheap. Galley is in the opposite direction, if you feel like cooking.”

“We’ll work something out,” she promised.

“Other than that, if you have questions, ask,” he continued, pointing at the intercom. “Someone’s always on the bridge. Anyway, I’ve got to get back.” He turned and exited the compartment, heading back towards the bridge.

“Friendly bunch,” the former Valkyrie observed. “Think I’ll keep my sidearm handy.”

“Probably not a bad idea,” Blye agreed, “though we should use the time we have during transit for weapons practice. Once we hit dirtside, I doubt we’ll have the opportunity.”

Amar groaned. “Look, I know swords can be effective in the right hands. I’ve seen them hack through plenty of the Troika, and I’m sure quarterstaffs are just as effective, but they’re no substitute for a proper weapon.”

Blye paused, facing the Quatrième. “You’re not a Valkyrie anymore,” she reminded him, “and there are reasons we Knights prefer the sword and staff. I’m not against firearms, per se. They certainly have their place, but we are healers first, and warriors second. Those we aid often have good reason to be fearful of authority, and adding guns to the mix won’t do a thing to reassure them. Plus, they are often overlooked, especially in places where they ban more advanced weaponry.”

“If you say so,” he said dubiously. “Still rather have a gun, though.”

“We’ll work on that,” she promised, as the pair retraced their steps back towards the main hatch. Prash was busy checking off the cargo as they loaded it aboard the freighter, looking up from his tablet as the pair approached.

“They’re almost finished,” he told them, “another half hour, tops. What’s the ship look like?”

“It will serve our needs,” Blye assured him. In fact, on sober reflection, it surprised her the Taisen Jit was in as good a shape as it was. “We’re on our own as far as food goes, so we’ll set up a cooking rotation for the three of us.”

“I’m not much of a cook,” Amar admitted.

“Then this will be an excellent time to learn,” the Deuxième pointed out. “Once they’ve finished loading, we’ll string up hammocks and prepare for departure. With three weeks to kill before our arrival, we’ll have plenty of time to get some much needed training in.”

The two men shared a commiserating look while Blye just grinned. “That’s the spirit,” she chuckled, plopping down on a crate as she began roughing out a curriculum for the journey.

Two days after they departed Malta, Blye called a conference in their quarters.

“I need to ask you both something,” she began, coming straight to the point. “Have either of you noticed anything, well, odd, since we lifted for Taing’zem?”

“Odd, ma’am?” Prash asked. “How so?”

“Anything unusual,” she clarified. “Anything that seems… off.”

Amar tugged on his ear. “Well, the crew’s kind of standoffish,” he shrugged. “I just chalked it up to us being Terrans.”

“Now that you mention it, they seem kind of jumpy,” Prash nodded. “It could be because of the Yīqún. Terra knows they make me nervous.” He cocked his head, giving her a puzzled look. “Is there something we should know about?”

“I’m not sure yet,” Blye admitted, “but when I was on the bridge earlier conferring with Captain Shunaadh, I caught a glimpse of the navigation plot. Now I’m not one hundred percent certain, but…” Her voice trailed off while she organized her thoughts.

“But what?” the former Valkyrie prompted.

She took a deep breath. “I think… we’re going the wrong way.”

Prash blinked in confusion. “The wrong way? Are you sure they’re not just being cautious? They said they were bypassing the normal trade routes to avoid the Yīqún.”

“You could be right,” she nodded, “like I said, I’m not positive. But there’s something about their behavior that feels out of place. There’s nothing I can put my finger on, but I just can’t shake the uneasy feeling I’m having.”

“If that’s true,” Amar ventured, “then they might have plans to steal the cargo. It’s not like piracy’s unheard of in these parts. Just ask the Corsairs.”

“Dear God, not again,” Prash sighed. “Just once, couldn’t things go smoothly for a change?”

“I could be chasing shadows,” Blye speculated, “but when I glanced at the navigation screen, the pilot reached over and immediately blanked the monitor. I got the feeling there was something there he didn’t want me to see.”

“What did you see?” Prash asked.

“It was just a quick glimpse, but… it looked like we were en route to the Bamidh homeworld, and that’s nowhere near Taing’zem.” She shook her head. “I wish I’d gotten a closer look.”

“Is it possible they’re just making a stop to pick up more cargo, or refuel?” Amar challenged her. “Because if we start making accusations…”

“I know. I know!” she snapped. “Only they haven’t mentioned any other stopovers before now. It’s possible something came up, an emergency of some sort, but don’t you think they’d notify us if that were the case?”

“Unless they didn’t think it was any of our business,” Prash pointed out. “We’re not part of the crew.”

“Still,” Amar mused, “it wouldn’t hurt to be ready, just in case. If they are planning to hijack the cargo, how would they do it?”

“They’d have to get rid of us first,” Blye said uncomfortably. “Easiest way to do that would be to gas us while we slept.”

“Or dump the atmosphere,” Prash grimaced. “That would definitely do the job.”

“I wish Maggie were here,” the senior Knight said fervently, “she’d know what to do.”

“Well…” Amar drawled, “if you want my advice, the first order of business would be to set up a watch list. Make sure that one of us is awake at all times.”

“Good idea,” Prash nodded. “And we already have our suits handy, so if we can don them quick enough, we should be alright.”

“Let’s run a few Emergency Suit Drills, just to be safe,” Blye ordered. “It’s a good habit to follow aboard ship, anyway.”

“I agree, but that’s only half the problem,” the Quatrième pointed out. “If I were them, after I’d incapacitated the passengers I’d sent in an armed team, just to make sure they were no longer a threat.” He grimaced at a sudden thought. “Have to ditch the bodies, anyway.”

“At least we have weapons of our own,” Prash said, taking up his quarterstaff to illustrate his point.

“If they come in guns blazing, that staff won’t be much help,” Amar reminded him.

“It’s what we have,” Blye shrugged.

“That still leaves us with a problem,” the Cinquième said unhappily. “Let’s say they try something, and we somehow turn the tables on them. What then? Do we take them all prisoner? Who’s going to fly this thing? And even if we take turns on the bridge guarding the captain, any of the others could sabotage the ship. None of us are Tinkers. Without them, we’re dead in space.” Prash stared helplessly at the others. “We’re not holding a great hand here, if they sell us out.”

“No, we aren’t,” Blye agreed, “but what other choice do we have? People are counting on us, and we will not fail them. I’d prefer to avoid violence if we can, but if we’re not given a choice, then we will defend ourselves, and see the mission through. No matter what.” The others reluctantly nodded in agreement as a thoughtful expression graced her features. “Perhaps the best way to handle this is to have an insurance policy already in the works, in case they decide to betray us.”

Amar raised an eyebrow. “You have an idea, ma’am?”

“The beginnings of one, at least,” she smiled. “Let me work on it and see if I can refine it a bit. Meanwhile, when we arrive at Taing’zem, I want to hit the ground running. We need to have a plan in place, ready to go, the moment we touch down. It’ll need some built-in flexibility, of course, since we don’t know what to expect, or when the bodies promised us will arrive. So, what gets first priority?”

“Sanitation,” the former Valkyrie said promptly. “We can handle everything else on an ad hoc basis, at least until we’ve got our feet firmly planted, but if we don’t get sanitation right from the get-go, it’ll be a nightmare.” He barely repressed a shudder. “I’ve seen what happens when you’re forced to adapt on the fly. It’s not pretty.”

“Sonoitii Prime?” Prash guessed.

“Yeah,” he said with a wince. “You can get away with burning raw sewage when you’re dealing with disciplined troops, but untrained civilians? Not to mention multiple species? That’s a disaster just waiting to happen.”

“I agree,” Blye nodded. “It doesn’t need to be anything fancy; this operation is about as shoestring as it gets, but it needs to be planned out in advance, with room for expansion. Even though most diseases can’t jump species, a refugee camp is just about the worst-case scenario to prove that theory wrong.”

“So the plan is to keep expanding the camp as we get new arrivals?” Prash asked.

“Depends what the site looks like,” the senior Knight shrugged. “We might have nowhere we can expand to, especially if they’re locating us on an island or something. If that’s the case, we may have to designate additional locations to handle the overflow.”

“I hope the Tsengju are in a charitable mood if that happens,” Amar said sourly, “which begs the question, what if they aren’t?”

“Let’s not borrow trouble,” Blye groaned, “we’ve got enough on our plate as it is. Which brings us to another point I want everyone thinking about, however. Infrastructure. I’m not just talking about the hospital or housing, but things like designated landing fields able to handle shuttles, access roads to transport supplies, everything. Without that in place, this mission fails.”

“Sounds like a lot’s riding on those other races following through on their promises,” Prash pointed out. “If they renege, what do we do?”

“We improvise,” she answered primly, “just like we always have. We make do… because we’re all they’ve got.” Blye gifted them both with a pallid smile. “This is the very reason we Knights exist, for times like these. We help those in need, whoever they are, no matter the cost to ourselves. That is our charter, our calling, and our vocation. No one ever said it would be easy.”

“I’m starting to think I’d have been safer sticking with the Valkyries,” Amar said wryly.

“And things are so different on that side of the fence?” Blye scoffed.

He considered that for a moment. “Not really,” the Quatrième admitted.

“That’s what I thought,” she said with emphasis. “Like your former clan mates, we don’t have the luxury of choosing who needs our help. We go where we’re needed, do what we can, and pray that it’s enough.”

“And is it?” Amar asked. “Enough, I mean?”

Blye sighed, shaking her head. “Hardly ever,” she conceded, “but that will never stop us from trying.”