Remi knew Freya fairly well, having visited the ship many times over the years, but the section the Admiral was currently leading him through was unknown to him. They had given most of the compartments they passed over to storage, but there were others whose purpose was less apparent. The pair came to a halt near an unmarked hatch, as Van Aalst held out his hand.

“Before we go any further, I need you to surrender your sidearm,” he told him.

“Excuse me?”

“No weapons inside the compartment,” he explained, “and no exceptions.” His hand remained outstretched, waiting.

He raised an eyebrow. “And if I refuse?”

“Then I’ll find someone else for the job, and you can go back to chasing Yīqún,” the Admiral answered, his attitude decidedly frosty.

With a sigh, Remi plucked the weapon from the holster at his hip, locking and clearing it before handing it over. Van Aalst took the pistol and deposited it in a storage bin mounted flush with the bulkhead and then turned back around. “Now the other one,” he said patiently.

He considered answering with, “What other one?”, but only briefly. Reluctantly, he reached for the small of his back and withdrew a small hideout piece, snapping it open and unloading it before handing that over as well.

The second weapon joined the first in the bin, but the Admiral wasn’t finished. “And the knife,” he said, with a pointed look at Remi’s feet.

Grimacing, he reached down and pulled out the dagger hidden in his boot, flipping it end-for-end before handing it over pommel first. Van Aalst placed it in the bin with the others, then closed and locked it.

“Mind telling me what’s with the extra security?” Remi asked.

“You’ll see,” he said cryptically, before gazing into the retinal scanner mounted beside the hatch.

“Verified - Van Aalst, Kichirō. Rank - Admiral,” a disembodied computer-generated voice announced, as the hatch’s locking mechanism disengaged and silently slid open.

“What the hell do you have in here, relics from Old Terra?” he asked point-blank.

“... not exactly,” Van Aalst said blithely as he entered the compartment, with Remi at his side. They passed through another security checkpoint, this one requiring a palm print before it opened up as well. Finally, they reached a third hatchway, when the Admiral held up his hand, blocking their path.

“Before we enter,” he told him, “I need your assurance that you won’t say or do anything threatening, and that you’ll remain calm as long as you’re in there.”

“Why not just tell me what’s in there instead of this charade?” he demanded.

“Because it’s easier to show you,” the Admiral replied, thumbing the release switch. The hatch opened as the pair entered the cluttered space, with tables surrounding them filled with scientific equipment, most of which he couldn’t identify.

“Doctor Axchxairx?” Van Aalst called out. “I’ve brought a visitor.”

Remi scanned the compartment, searching for its oddly named occupant, but given the disarray, there were many places someone could hide. He caught the sign of movement from the corner of his eye as someone lifted their head from behind a display… his eyes going wide while instinctively scrabbling for the sidearm no longer in its holster.

“Greetings!” the insectoid Eleexx said through its voder, waving one of its appendages. “It is most agreeable to have visitors,” it continued. “While I understand and agree with the need for security in this matter, the accompanying isolation can be distressing.”

“What the hell?” Remi said in shock, his voice going shrill.

“Relax,” the Admiral told him. “Believe it or not, he’s on our side.” Changing direction, he headed for the alien while Remi hung back, the ship captain instantly wary of the creature.

“It is pleasing to see you again, Admiral,” the Eleexx said politely, before turning to Remi. “May I inquire your companion’s name?”

“Doctor Qyrizaa Axchxairx, may I present Remi Hadad, captain of the Corsair ship Gyrfalcon,” he said by way of introduction, before giving him a subtle nudge to the ribs and a pointed look.

“... Doctor,” he mumbled, even as he struggled to make sense of it all.

“A ship?” the alien said hopefully. “Will Captain Hadad then be taking me to my final destination?”

The Admiral placed a hand firmly on Remi’s shoulder. “Don’t screw this up,” he hissed in his ear before stepping aside.

Remi shot his commander a look before turning his attention back to the Troika scientist. “Apparently,” he said finally, “but we’re still working out the details.” Looking around the compartment once more, he asked, “What’s all this stuff?”

“Ah! That is my research,” the Eleexx replied. “I am very close to perfecting a means with which to defeat the Yīqún threat.”

He dubiously scanned the equipment a second time. “Uh-huh. How, exactly?”

The scientist’s mandibles clacked with excitement as it warmed to the topic. “Ah! It is most exciting! The problem is two-fold; before one can inflict sufficient damage, we must first gather them together in large concentrations. When that is accomplished, you must then deploy a weapon of sufficient destructive power in order to eliminate the swarm. That is what my research is working to unlock.”

It was an intriguing idea, assuming the alien was right, but that still left a glaring question to be asked. “And why are you here?” Remi insisted. “Since when does the Troika come hat in hand over to us Terrans?”

The Admiral cleared his throat, a warning gesture, but he ignored it, instead focusing on the scientist, who bobbed its head in concession. “I regret that our peoples have long been adversaries,” it answered. “The Troika has stood for thousands of years, but it is now clear that its time of dominance is over. If we are to survive, it will only be by working together against the common threat.” Shaking its head, it gave an almost human-like shrug. “Sadly, many of my kind refuse to accept this. They would rather hoard information than share it with others, even when doing so is self-destructive. We should ally ourselves as we did in the past to defeat the Yīqún, but instead, we bicker and squander our efforts. I finally realized for my research to have any impact against the enemy, it would only bear fruit under the guidance of your Alliance, not the Troika.”

“So, you defected,” he said. It was one hell of a tale, though he wasn’t yet convinced it was genuine.

“I prefer to believe I am merely more conscious of prevailing sociological trends than my counterparts,” it said haughtily. “Eventually they will see, as I did, that political reconciliation is the only logically sustainable course.”

Remi stared at the insectoid in disbelief, as the Admiral appeared at his side. “That’s enough for now, Doctor,” he said brusquely, interrupting them. “Captain Hadad and I have much to discuss, as well as arrangements to make. You have my word, I’ll keep you abreast of any changes.”

The Eleexx bobbed its head once more. “That would be most gratifying, Admiral,” it answered, before looking back at Remi. “I hope that this was merely the first of many such conversations we will have during our journey, captain.”

“Yeah… likewise,” he muttered, allowing himself to be shepherded back out of the compartment. Once outside, after the hatch was secured, he spun and faced his commander. “Are you insane?” he demanded.

“Not here,” the Admiral said stiffly, his jaw clenched in a hard line, pausing briefly at the storage bin so Remi could retrieve his weapons. They traversed the ship in silence, neither of them saying a word until they were back inside his office, the hatch now locked and shielded.

“What the hell is going on?” Remi practically shouted. “We’re conspiring with the fucking Eleexx?”

“Sit. Down,” Van Aalst snapped, glaring back at him. The pair stood locked in a silent contest of wills, until finally he relented and did as he’d been ordered, taking a seat across from his commander. “Let’s get one thing straight,” he growled, “no one is conspiring with the Troika. If anything, Doctor Axchxairx is conspiring with us. The technology he’s helping us develop will put us light-years ahead of everyone else, and if his theories are even half right, will help us defeat the Yīqún once and for all.”

“So one crackpot Troika scientist appears on our doorstep, and we just take him at his word?” Remi said incredulously. “How do we know he’s not trying to pull a fast one?”

The Admiral just looked at him, long past where it grew uncomfortable. “We don’t,” he said at last, before heading to the sideboard to pour drinks. “We’ve double-checked as much of his story as we could, and so far, it holds up, but there is still a genuine possibility it’s a con.” He returned and handed a glass off to Remi before taking a seat himself, sipping his drink. “The days of playing it safe are over, captain,” he said tersely, “we are way past that now. The only way we survive is swinging for the fences on every pitch… not just us, but all the clans. When this fell into my lap, you’re damn right I jumped on it. The scientists I’ve consulted with all say his theories are sound, and that’s good enough for me.”

“And if he turns on us?” Remi fired back. “What am I supposed to do with him, then?”

“If that happens,” the Admiral said coldly, “then I expect you to eliminate the threat. Permanently.”

“Gladly,” he smiled, sipping his drink. Finally, something that actually made sense. “Where exactly am I supposed to be taking him?” he asked.

Tapping a remote, a star map appeared on a nearby display, with a single star highlighted. “Here… 41 Ori A, in the Orion Nebula. It’s a mothballed Troika research facility, off the trade routes and well outside their space.”

Squinting at the display with a jaundiced eye, Remi asked, “Why there? And why did they abandon the site?”

“Apparently it’s home to some sort of unusual gravimetric phenomena,” the Admiral explained with a shrug, “which is necessary for his work. As to why they abandoned it, Doctor Axchxairx claims it was due to… as he called it… a ‘reassessment of fiscal and logistical priorities.”

He ran the phrase through his head a few times before wincing in disgust. “Budget cuts?” he said skeptically.

“Not even the Troika have unlimited resources,” Van Aalst shrugged. “He says they deserted it years ago, and that it’s powered down to standby mode. If that’s true, getting it operational again shouldn’t prove difficult.”

“Assuming he’s not lying,” Remi said sarcastically, “or that it’s not a trap.”

“Which it might be, so I suggest you exercise caution at all times."

“Oh, you can count on it, Admiral,” he snorted. “What’s my timetable?”

“If you haven’t seen tangible results in six months, you are to return here so we can reassess the situation,” Van Aalst ordered. “Other than that?” He gave Remi a stern look. “I expect you to use your best judgment.”

“Right…” he sighed, running through a mental checklist in order to prepare for the mission.

The Admiral set down his glass. “It goes without saying that this entire mission is classified. You are not to discuss it with anyone outside of your crew. To keep Doctor Axchxairx’s involvement secret, we’ll put him inside a shipping container and load it on your ship just prior to your departure. You will not open that crate until after you’ve left local space. Is that understood?”

Remi nodded. “Seems clear enough. And here I thought the mission to Earth was crazy.”

“Look at where we are, captain,” Van Aalst exclaimed, spreading his hands to indicate far more than just the compartment. “The Proteans have imploded, the Knights have their hands full dealing with the humanitarian crisis brought on by the Yīqún, the Valkyries are fighting on at least a dozen different worlds, while we’re scrambling to hold this alliance together long enough to defeat the damn drones. Even the Dharmists are up in arms, from what I hear. That little mission of yours set off a powder keg, and where it all ends?” He shrugged helplessly. “No one knows.”

“And New Terra?” Remi asked quietly.

“Not a word,” the Admiral sighed. “I keep hoping someone will find it, but after all this time, any hope I had on the subject gets just a little harder to hold on to. I want to believe it’s still out there, waiting for us, but I can’t chart the course of our clan based solely on hope. I can’t.”

“Hence the new mission,” he pointed out, taking another sip.

“If we can’t defeat the Yīqún, then none of the rest matters,” the clan leader said. “Ending that threat has to take priority, even above the Troika and New Terra. If Doctor Axchxairx’s research helps us do that, great. If not? Then we’ll have to find another way… and pray we survive long enough to pull off that not-so-minor miracle.”

Remi drained the rest of his glass as he let that sink in before rising to his feet. “I need to brief my crew,” he explained, “the basics, at least, if not the complete story. We have arrangements to make before we depart.”

“Yes, you do,” the Admiral agreed, rising as well. “I don’t need to stress how important this mission is, captain, but the fate of humanity, not to mention the entire Perseus Arm, may well depend on it.”

“Yeah… ‘No Pressure’,” he grimaced. “Dare I ask about getting some backup?”

“Do you have any idea how close to the ragged edge we are, just holding the line against the Yīqún?” Van Aalst said wearily. “I don’t have any ships to spare. If the Troika got off their goddamn asses, or at least stopped fighting each other long enough to focus on the fucking drones, things might be different. But they haven’t, so it isn’t.”

He nodded in resignation. “I had to ask,” he shrugged, before gazing at the star map display. “You ever wonder how things might have turned out differently if the Oivu hadn’t contacted our ancestors and sold them that interstellar drive? If we’d just stayed on Earth?”

“We wouldn’t be having this conversation,” the Admiral pointed out, “seeing as how we’d be dead.”

“Maybe,” Remi admitted, though not entirely convinced. “They wanted so desperately to explore the cosmos, hoping to find intelligent life… somewhere, out there.” He sighed and glanced back at his commander. “There must be a lesson in that.”

The Admiral drained the rest of his glass. “Just one,” he shrugged.

“... be careful what you wish for.”