“What the hell is that thing doing on our ship?”

Mairead glared at her captain, who was gritting his teeth in return. If I didn’t need her to keep the ship running…, he thought to himself.

“He’s here because the Admiral ordered us to take him,” he snapped, “otherwise he wouldn’t be. But since he is, and given the fact it’s a done deal, my advice is to get over it.”

“Get over it,” Xuilan replied, deadpan. “Just get over the fact that we have an enemy agent on board.” She fixed him with a hard look.

“He claims he’s a defector,” Remi said after a moment. “Says he’s broken ranks with the Troika.”

“And you believe him?” Slavko blurted out. “Boss, you know he’s gotta be lying.”

Remi glared at his crew. “Remind me again who’s the captain on this ship?” he growled. “This is how it is. And for your information, you’re not saying anything I didn’t already say to the Admiral. Want to guess what he said?”

There was a collective sigh as they saw the writing on the wall. “‘It’s an order’?” Isi predicted.

“In so many words,” he confirmed. “He also told me to get over it, so now I’m telling you. This is our mission, so instead of complaining, start figuring out a way to actually make it work.”

A mumbled chorus of, “Aye aye, Cap’n” was their response as they all found something interesting on the deck to look at, instead of meeting his gaze. He let them stew for a few more moments before reeling it back.

“This could actually make a difference against the Yīqún,” he said in more casual tones. “I don’t know what he’s working on, probably wouldn’t understand it even if I did. But the Admiral thinks it could give us the edge we need… and that’s good enough for me.”

The crew relaxed a bit; though still not thrilled about the situation. “I’m not expecting you to make friends with him, but I do expect you to be civil. We’re stuck with him for the foreseeable future, and there’s no point in making things worse.”

There were nods all around while he sketched out a compromise they could live with. “Does this mean I have to cook for him?” Isi asked, “cause I got no idea what the Eleexx eat.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Remi informed him. “He brought his own food, enough for the entire trip. Anything else, we’ll play by ear.”

The purser sighed in relief. “That’s enough about that,” Remi said, “though there is one more thing. Xuilan, we’re changing course. Adjust your heading for Bzaachyojdham. We’re taking another passenger aboard.”

“Please tell me it’s not another Troika stooge,” Slavko pleaded with him.

“It’s not,” he confirmed. “He’s human, and he’s flown with us before. You remember the Dharmist from the Earth mission, Genvass?”

“Sure I remember him,” Mairead answered. “Is he part of the mission, too?”

“... not exactly,” Remi grimaced. “We’re just giving him a lift to Sivor Uq’ish. I wouldn’t agree to something like this, but… well, let’s call it ‘Special Circumstances’,” he told them, leaving the rest intentionally vague. “While he’s aboard,” he continued, “there is to be no mention of our mission, our heading, our passenger, or our orders. He’s to learn nothing about why we’re out here. Is that understood?” he demanded, fixing each of them with a stern glare.

“Aye aye, Cap’n,” Xuilan replied, speaking for the others.

“All right then, you know where we stand. The mission’s important, so let’s get it done.” The crew began leaving the Mess deck, returning to their normal assignments. “In the meantime, I need to have a chat with our… guest,” he grimaced, earning a few guarded looks as he headed back to the cabins. After the big reveal, he’d moved the scientist over from his crate to settle in, and now seemed like the perfect time to get a handle on who this guy really was.

Rapping on the hatch, it was no surprise to Remi when it opened almost immediately. “Captain Hadad!” the alien said in cheerful tones. “Come in, come in!” He stepped back, giving him room as he entered the compartment.

“You settling in okay?” he asked. “I realize it’s probably not what you’re used to.” Troika ships were enormous, large enough to have staterooms the size of shuttle bays, while Terran quarters were much more cramped. Plus, Gyrfalcon was showing her age. Mairead took good care of her, but anything not vital for operations… like say, guest quarters… were towards the bottom of her “To Do” list.

“Your hospitality is most appreciated, captain,” Axchxairx replied. “I realize Terrans are not an affluent race, which makes your welcoming even more remarkable.”

His response caught Remi off guard. “You’re not what I expected,” he admitted.

“Ahh… you assumed I would be cruel and aloof, treating your race with contempt,” the Eleexx surmised. “Sadly, there are many of my kind who would conform to that paradigm.”

Remi folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the bulkhead. “What interactions I’ve had with the Troika mostly involved us shooting at each other.”

“You are hardly alone in that,” the alien agreed. “Many of the races who call the Perseus Arm home have similar stories to share. The Troika has cast a long shadow in this region of space for a very long time, and the virtues of kindness and compassion rarely accompany that sort of power.”

“So what makes you different?” Remi asked point blank. “Most Eleexx wouldn’t give a Terran the time of day, let alone speak to them like you are to me.”

“There are several reasons,” Axchxairx explained, “the most obvious being that I am alone on this vessel, surrounded by Terrans. It is simply prudent to show courtesy.”

He smiled at that. In the deep black, dealing with unwanted passengers was as easy as opening an airlock. “Good point,” he chuckled. “Is that the only reason? Self-preservation?”

“No, though it is the one that currently weighs heaviest on my mind,” the Eleexx shrugged. “It is apparent that your crew does not trust me.”

“Trust is hard-earned, among my kind,” Remi agreed, “especially for someone from a species with so much… baggage.” Time to test the waters. “Let’s face it, the Troika has run roughshod over the Perseus Arm for millennia. No one says no to them, at least not before we founded the Alliance, and woe to anyone who gets in their way.”

“You are not wrong,” the alien admitted after a moment. “All races strive for dominance. In fact, it appears to be one of the few universal traits to be found in the myriad of intelligent species’ evolutionary history. Those that do not do so do not survive.” He shrugged once more. “My race is no different. We merely had an early advantage we could exploit.”

“Not to mention an entire spiral arm,” he said pointedly, “though you had to share with the Aggaaddub and the Tu’udh’hizh’ak.”

“Ah yes, our ‘allies’,” the doctor sighed. “At the time of the Troika’s founding, we believed that creating such an alliance would spare the galaxy further decades of brutal fighting. We were evenly matched, the three races, with none strong enough to gain a clear advantage.”

“I’m surprised none of you formed an alliance of your own to wipe out the third race,” Remi mused. “A two-way split is better than three ways.”

“Oh, we did!” Axchxairx exclaimed, “many times! Every permutation was attempted at least once, only no one was willing to wait until they thoroughly beat their victim before turning on their ally, allowing them time to recover, and the chance to ally themselves with one of their former enemies.” He signed once more. “Who would then, of course, betray their new ally the first chance they got, starting the cycle all over again. The Troika was a compromise, captain. After many long and bloody years of war, we finally saw it as preferable to the alternative.”

The brief history lesson was something he’d never considered before. The Troika had always seemed to be some giant monolith, always looming, always present. He’d never wondered how it came into existence; as a Terran, he’d always had more pressing concerns. It was a thought-provoking look behind the curtain, one he never would have gotten without the doctor’s presence.

“There’s another matter I wanted to discuss with you,” Remi revealed. “In a few days, we’ll be taking on another passenger. They won’t be coming with us to our final destination,” he hastened to add, “but as long as he’s aboard, I need you to stay inside your cabin. He’s not a Corsair, so I can’t simply order him and expect him to obey. I have already ordered my crew, not to mention you being here while he’s with us.”

The Eleexx scientist bobbed his head. “Of course. I understand. It is in both our interests to keep my involvement covert. If my research is successful, however, hopefully, that will change.”

“I appreciate your cooperation, doctor,” Remi said. “This is a difficult time and requires sacrifice from us all.”

“Indeed so,” Axchxairx agreed. “Once your passenger disembarks, will we proceed to our objective?” he asked.

“Barring complications,” Remi nodded. He paused for a moment, considering that. “I’ve been going over our charts,” he informed the doctor, changing the subject, “but unfortunately, what data we have of that region is sparse. Which leads me to ask, why the Orion Nebula? What’s so special about it?”

The alien’s compound eyes seemed to suddenly sparkle as he rubbed his claws together in excitement. “An excellent question!” he exclaimed, even as Remi fought to stifle a groan. He should have realized he was triggering the scientist’s enthusiasm. The urge to be somewhere else… anywhere else… suddenly seemed like a wonderful dream, one that, sadly, he was already far too late to enjoy.

“The region you call the Orion Nebula is a fascinating place,” Axchxairx said cheerfully, “home to interstellar and spatial phenomena not found elsewhere in the known galaxy. We have documented several gravimetric anomalies we cannot explain, as well as elevated counts of exotic particles that in fact should not exist in such quantities. It was these very conditions that drew my fellow researchers there initially, though after years of study we could not draw any definitive conclusions.”

“Then why go back?” the Corsair asked him.

“Because I have been working to develop new testing equipment to better answer the questions raised by the nebula,” the scientist said excitedly. “It is my fervent hope that the data I record will answer the questions that have long plagued us, and if I am right, will be the first steps in developing a weapon to defeat the Yīqún.”

“You mentioned that before,” Remi probed, “but what kind of weapon are we talking about here? A beam array, of some sort?”

“Bah, nothing so crude as a mere particle cannon,” Axchxairx said dismissively. “What I am hoping to create is nothing less than a weapon that uses gravity itself to defeat the enemy. Imagine opening a quantum singularity to swallow the drones whole! Or send them to a pocket dimension and then seal the entrance behind them! There are so many possibilities if my theories are correct, so many ways we can weaponize space itself against our common foe.”

Remi’s eyebrows climbed his forehead as the Eleexx scientist waxed poetically about his theories, but even as he did so the captain was already imagining their potential. Banishing the Yīqún with little more than a wave of their hand, using space itself to vacuum them up like so much refuse, if even half his ideas bore fruit, they would be powerful tools for destruction.

And he was in the perfect position to ensure he and his fellow Terrans got them first.

The poker face he’d long since perfected immediately dropped into place as the alien scientist began winding down. “That’s all very interesting, doctor,” he said politely. “I hope your theories are indeed proven correct, and you can create those weapons to defeat the Yīqún. The sooner they’re a distant memory, the happier I’ll be.” Checking his chronometer, he graced him with a gracious smile. “Unfortunately, my presence is required on the bridge, so I’m afraid I must cut our conversation short. But I would very much like to learn more about your research and what you hope to find.”

“I would be delighted to show you my theories,” the Eleexx said gleefully. “Until then, Captain Hadad.” With a bow, he retreated into his quarters and closed the hatch, while Remi headed back towards the other end of the ship, though not to the bridge. Instead, he entered his own quarters, pouring a glass as he sat down at his desk, musing over what he’d just learned.

It was easy now to see why the Admiral had given him this mission, instead of to someone else. He had proven his ability to handle tough assignments during their journey to Earth, and he and his crew had certainly demonstrated their ability to keep a secret, but it was more than that. It was obvious his clan leader was covering his bases; if Axchxairx’s theories didn’t pan out, then no harm done. They’d lose a little time, but nothing more. If, however, his theories were correct…

Remi sipped his drink, more certain than ever he had given him this job for a reason. By all appearances, Admiral Van Aalst was a polished yet capable leader, charming when he needed to be, or unyielding if that attribute was required instead. He’d obviously had a similar conversation with Doctor Axchxairx, and like himself realized the promise of his creations, assuming he could bring them to life. The Admiral had crafted his image well and knew the value of diplomacy, carrying with him an air of approachability and polish. To look at him, one might think he’d risen through the ranks via patronage and backroom deals.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

Kichirō Van Aalst had once captained a ship much like his, Gaia’s Revenge, and had earned quite the reputation for his efforts. His boarding actions were the stuff of legend, his piloting skills second to none. He’d taken prize ships far more powerful than his own, and by the time he was done, their corridors ran thick with alien blood. He’d murdered and clawed his way to the top by sheer force of will, and now?

People only saw the politician, and not the pirate underneath.

He’d given him this job for many reasons, but mostly because he knew he could count on him to see that the Corsairs got that weapon, and not the Troika.

By any means necessary.