The Starkiller was an enormous ship, far bigger than any Xaleyp had been on before, not that he had been on many. He frequently found himself getting lost in its underbelly, taking wrong turns and winding up in engineering, or taking the lift to the wrong level and finding himself at the medical bay—which took up an entire floor by itself, researching different diseases and cures when there wasn’t anyone that needed tending to—when all he was trying to do was get back to his quarters, or maybe to the bridge, or the cafeteria. . There had to be thousands of people on board, from the technicians, to engineers, to soldiers, to even civilians, like a small city floating through space.

It had been four days since they left Arcadia behind. A few times, most of the time really, Xaleyp found himself sitting alone in his quarters—a three by three meter room with a simple bed, mostly empty wardrobe, and plain desk—staring out the window at the stars streaking by, wondering how he ended up there. When he was a child, everything seemed so simple: Wake up, go to school, do homework, sometimes play with friends, sometimes attend different events for delegates with his father, go to sleep, and rinse and repeat the following day. Now, he was on a path of vengeance, reintroducing some sense of peace and order to the galaxy that had been missing for decades, centuries even.

Finally, the message he was waiting for came through on his recently reactivated CAM from the Director, asking him to come to the bridge. Xaleyp obeyed at once, jumping up and making his way through the empty twisting corridors, which he was convinced changed by the day, until he reached the lift to take him up. As he stood there waiting, he felt another presence behind him, and, when he turned to see who it was, found Mian standing there. Her hair was pulled back, running straight down behind her, and she wore a standard black jumpsuit with the green star of Siatia emblazoned on the front. There was a tired look about her face, as if she hadn’t been sleeping well. She looked at him briefly before casting her eyes to the ground.

“So the Director called us both then?” she asked, her voice quieter than he remembered it being, even in the silent corridor. Xaleyp didn’t answer, choosing to look back to the door as she came up to stand next to him. She tried to smile at him, but it came out as more of a grimace. “It’s been awhile since I had a new assignment, they’re usually pretty interesting. Though, I suppose we’ll see how this one ends up. It’ll be nice to be on a mission that actually means something and that I want to contribute to instead of one that I’ve been forced on, you know?”

“Not particularly,” Xaleyp replied coolly, not having the desire to talk to her. No matter how many times she tried to apologize, to explain why she had lied to him, the trust he had in her before had disappeared, and he was none too ready to restore it. “Considering it’ll be my first, it’s a little hard to know the difference.”

“Oh, you never forget your first, I know I don’t.” She stifled a laugh but turned away, her face reddening, when she realized he wasn’t smiling. “How many times do I have to say I’m sorry for doing my job, for trying to protect my family? I wanted to tell you, the Director himself even told you that, and the only reason I couldn’t was because of his stupid ass rules. I’m the same exact person you met back on Vertyn, you just know more about me now, so why can’t we just go back to the way we were?”

“And how were we then?” The words were harsher than Xaleyp intended, but he felt no remorse for it. Instead, he had to resist the urge to lash into her, to hammer in his point again and again. He had cared for her, liked her even, and allowed himself to be blinded to her actions for too long.

Before Mian had a chance to answer, whether she wanted to or not, the door of the lift opened, and they both stepped in. They stood in awkward, prolonged silence, the only noise penetrating the lift being the repulsors propelling them up. After what felt like an hour, but couldn’t have been more than thirty seconds, the lift doors opened again to reveal the bridge.

The interior of the bridge was nothing like what Xaleyp had expected. It was a large area with each side divided into two sections: a hexagon-like portion recessed into the floor that opened on on the side closer to them and on the other to a circular section that went up a few steps. In front of them an down a short hall dividing the hexagons was the main command and navigation pit. In all the different sections were people hurriedly working and calling out codes and phrases to one another. Along every space available on the walls were racks upon racks of different equipment with flashing lights. The Director stood in the section to their right, looking over the shoulder of a technician and reading an engineering report when he saw them.

“Xaleyp, Mian, good to see you both so quickly,” he called out as they stepped out of the lift and the door closed behind them. He moved away from the technician and peered at each of them, a curious, yet knowing, look in his eye. “Am I to assume past transgressions have been forgiven then?”

“Not in the slightest.” Xaleyp walked up to the man and crossed his arms at his chest. “So when do I get to have the revenge you promised?”

“Ah, yes, that, of course. You see, we have one small order of business that we must attend to first.” He held a finger up to each of them, trying to silence them with the gesture, then transitioned to holding his thumb and finger to illustrate his idea of small. The Director stepped up from the recession and walked around Xaleyp, standing in between him and Mian. “Once this unpleasant task is taken care of, I promise, you will have your revenge. After all, like you so kindly reminded me, I did make you a promise.”

He bowed to Xaleyp with a flourish, bending low before coming back up and holding out his arms as if waiting for applause. When none came—or perhaps he decided that he held the pose long enough—he clasped his hands behind his back.

Xaleyp felt a renewed bout of rage beginning to well up inside of him at the mention of a delay for his revenge. Less than four days, and he was already turning around and reneging on his word, from promising the revenge to holding it in front of him as if dangling a carrot? Who did he think he was?

Then he forced himself to remain calm, to control the anger inside. Already, regardless of what this Celestial Order did, he was a step further than he was before going into ArcDefense. He knew who killed Lina, and he knew where to find him. If he needed to, he could sneak off of the ship and find his way back to Stariek himself, without anyone holding him back.

“What’s this small order of business?” Xaleyp asked, trying to keep the hint of bitterness out of his voice. “Where are we going now?”

“Well, funny you should ask that question, Xaleyp.” The Director began walking down the center hall to the main command area, where there was a large six sided table. He fiddled with it for a moment and, an holographic image appeared in midair above the smooth surface. Xaleyp and Mian both moved closer in around the table to get a better look. It showed some sort of circular walled compound against a mountain, a tall spire butting up against the stone and rising into the air a hundred meters or so. A guard outpost was in one corner, and several shorter watchtowers were evenly spaced along the wall. “Do you recognize it, either of you?”

Both Mian and Xaleyp shook their heads, having no idea what they were looking at. The Director changed the image to show a wall of text that seemed familiar, and Xaleyp realized it was the same file they had found in ArcDefense, the one that told him about the attack on Stariek and where Grimaldus was.

“Is that where Grimaldus is hiding?” Xaleyp asked, unable to keep the tone of excitement out of his voice. “Are we going to extract him from that compound?”

“No, boy, I just told you, that is going to have to wait just a little while longer.” The Director sighed and shook his head, then turned to Mian. “Agent, you’ve been with us for awhile, I assume you know what this is?”

She looked carefully over the text again, reading it closely, her eyes skimming back and forth with each line. After the second or third time through, an expression of comprehension came over her face.

“Is that where the Secretary Nevermoor referenced in that document is located?”

“Exactly right, indeed it is. We have a winner!” The Director made a cheering noise, attempting to mimic a crowd, in a mock celebration of her figuring it out, leaving Xaleyp wondering what he got himself into when he agreed to join him. “Lissinius Nevermoor, Secretary of War on Arcadia, and actually the second cousin of Castellian Nevermoor, who is the right hand man of Emperor Delargivic. She is the one who authorized the attack on Stariek, and we are capturing her so that we may interrogate her and see what else she knows that may be of importance to us in our coming clash with the so-called Praes Dominion.”

“I’m guessing that we’re the ones going in to capture her?” Xaleyp asked, folding his arms in front of his chest.

“Of course, you are,” he said, pressing a button on the table. At once, the image disappeared, returning to the smooth surface. He moved around the table and stood between them, gripping them both by the wrist and pulling them together. With some difficulty, he pulled both of their fingers apart and made their hands clasp tightly together. He looked between each of them, narrowing his eyes and holding a finger up as they began to protest. “Now, put aside your differences for one millisecond and let me talk. This cannot be done if you two are just going to be at each other’s throats the entire time. This is perhaps one of the most important missions ever undertaken by the Order, and I do not want the operation to fall apart because you two started bickering over useless shit. I’m putting you two in front here, because I know that you are good at what you do and can get the job done, but if you refuse to work with each other, then you won’t be the first ones I’ve had to throw out the airlock.”

Xaleyp looked sideways at Mian and saw there was an intense, dedicated glare in her eyes. She nodded once to the Director, then turned to him.

“I’m ready to work alongside Xaleyp, sir, whenever he’s ready to realize he can trust me.”

“Fine.” Xaleyp felt himself deflate, as if conceding the point caused him great personal injury. He released Mian’s hand and let his own return to his side then turned back to the Director. “So what’s the plan on getting into that compound? It didn’t exactly look like we can just stroll up to the front gate, knock, and say, ‘Hello, yes, we’re here to kidnap your Secretary of War!’ Unless you’ve already worked that little detail out, in which case I’d be happy to hear it.”

“You want to know the plan?” The Director crossed his arms and leaned against the table, staring down Xaleyp. Something about the gaze, the ominous look in the man’s eyes, told Xaleyp that he went too far, but the Director kept his voice calm and steady, as if he hardly heard the words. “The plan is actually rather simple. Travis McRunal, the leader of God’s Machine, has agreed that some of his forces will stage an assault on the compound while you two—“ he pointed at Xaleyp and Mian for added emphasis “—sneak in through the sewers which should lead you directly into the kitchen, if our intelligence reports are correct. I’ll get you both all the details once it gets closer to time.”

“The two of us alone, sir?” Mian asked, her voice soft and slightly worried. “How are two people supposed to get in and out with Nevermoor without drawing attention?”

“You’ll have a small team going with you, Mian.” The Director consulted his CAM, his eye twitching for a moment. “You’re getting four other soldiers from the Siatian military to help you. We’re making a quick stop at Siatia to pick them up and for a quick meeting, then we’re heading back to Arcadia. I’ll send you their records, Xaleyp, considering you’re going to be the one leading this.”

“I’m going to be leading this?” Xaleyp stared, flabbergasted, at the Director. How was he supposed to lead a team of soldiers when he had only been in one real firefight his entire life? “I’ve never done anything like this in my entire life. How can you expect me to do this without failing?”

“Consider this your own little crucible, like a trial by fire.” The Director narrowed his eyes at Xaleyp. “As a little extra motivation, if the mission fails, then fire it may be. But worry not, I have the utmost faith in your ability to succeed against all odds, which you have proven time and time again. Think about this for a moment: You were never supposed to make it out of Avalon, yet you did.”

With the final word, the Director turned and walked around the different sections of the bridge, making comments to some of the technicians and simply staring and nodding at the screens of others.