Leaving the mounds of corpses behind them, the group resumed their exploration of the shattered Tu’udh’hizh’ak warship, still heading for the bridge. While everyone had been affected by what they’d discovered, Genvass had taken it the hardest. For Remi and the crew of Gyrfalcon, this was far from their first boarding action, and all had witnessed… or committed themselves, on occasion… other acts of barbarity, though perhaps not on that scale. Piracy was a way of life for the Corsairs, and it was an increasingly harsh universe they lived in. You either survived long enough to build up scar tissue and a thick skin to protect you, or you didn’t last long.

Privately, Remi was surprised Genvass hadn’t vomited his last meal into his helmet when they’d stumbled onto the site. Maybe there was hope for him yet.

“Cap’n?” Mairead announced suddenly, interrupting his thoughts. “I’m picking something up ahead. Someone’s restored power in the forward section.”

“The bridge?” he surmised.

“Most likely,” she agreed. “Looks like we have survivors, after all.”

“How do you want to play it, boss?” Slavko asked.

The captain thought furiously for a moment, then spoke into his helmet mic. “Xuilan, we’re getting power readings forward of our position,” he informed the pilot. “Are you seeing anything on your end?”

“Maybe,” she answered after a brief pause, “but it’s awfully weak. What are you thinking, Cap’n?”

“Target where the readings are strongest, but do not fire unless I give the word,” Remi informed her. “I want a closer look on our end but stand ready if things go south.”

“Copy that,” she replied. “Gyrfalcon standing by.”

“What’s the plan, Cap’n?” Isi asked.

Remi thought for a moment. “If some Chell survived, and if they’re holed up on the bridge like we think they are, that’s a complication,” he answered, his expression betraying none of his emotions. “But since they’re enemy combatants, the solution is simple enough.”

The crew gave him some puzzled looks, though once he made a pointed look at Genvass’, they quickly adopted carefully neutral expressions. They were used to his orders being blunter and to the point. Outsiders, especially a Dharmist like Genvass, simply didn’t grasp the realities of life as a Corsair.

“Are they, though?” the Dharmist probed, oblivious to the silent byplay all around him. “Enemy combatants, I mean. As badly damaged as this ship is, they’re not in a position to hurt anyone. If there are survivors, we should try to rescue them.”

“We don’t have the room,” Remi said firmly, “and even if we did, I wouldn’t take them on board. I guarantee their first instinct would be to take over Gyrfalcon and dispose of us.”

Genvass stared at him. “What are you saying, Captain?”

“After what we’ve already seen on this ship, you have to ask?” he snorted. “The rest of you, stand ready. I want this done quick.”

The crew checked and prepped their weapons as they resumed their search for the bridge, but their companion wasn’t finished yet. “Captain, you can’t be planning to simply gun them down on sight!” he exclaimed in shock.

“They’re too dangerous to be left alive,” Remi fired back.

“You don’t know that!” Genvass said shrilly. “What if they’re praying for someone to rescue them?”

The Corsair whirled back to face the Dharmist. “After seeing the evidence with your own eyes, I would think by now even you would get it,” he snapped. “They’re conditioned from birth to obey their master’s every whim, and to the Troika we are the enemy. Even if we could rescue them, what makes you think they’d accept it?”

“So that’s it then. You’re just going to kill them and be done with it,” he said bitterly.

Remi glared at him. “This is how it is. This is what survival is, out here… and if you can’t accept that, stick to your own kind.” He jerked his head at the purser. “Isi, take the right, Slavko on the left. Mairead, hang back and keep Genvass out of trouble, but be ready in case we need you to pick the lock. Questions?”

The crew gave him the thumbs up. Their guest looked as if he wanted to continue the debate, but another look from the captain and he quickly clammed up. Taking the center position while the others flanked him, Remi carefully sidled his way up the corridor until they reached a hatch, glancing back at his engineer for confirmation. Mairead took a moment to double-check her instruments before giving him another thumbs up, prompting him to examine the lock. It was a robust design, well-engineered to prevent the access of unauthorized individuals and maintain atmospheric integrity.

It was not, however, indestructible.

Removing a breaching charge from his kit, Remi positioned it over the locking mechanism itself before arming it and waving the others back to take positions. Genvass was on the verge of outrage and apoplexy as he watched them prepare, even moving to intervene, but Mairead clamped down hard on his shoulder and yanked him back before he took a step. A brief look to ensure all was in readiness before calling the ship.

“We’re making our move,” he informed the pilot, “so get ready. If anything happens, it’ll happen fast.”

“Copy that, Cap’n,” Xuilan replied. “Be careful.”

“We will,” he told her, before glancing at the others, holding up his free hand as he started the countdown, curling each finger back as he did so. “In five, four, three, two one. Fire in the hole!”

It wasn’t an enormous explosion, just large enough to shatter the lock, but even as the hatch blew, a gust of air came pouring out from the entrance, buffeting them. The team was already up and moving before the dust settled, charging the hatch and muscling it aside only to throw themselves clear as weapons’ fire lanced out from the interior. Isi laid down a base of fire, sweeping plasma left to right even as Slavko opened up with his riot gun. Remi tossed in a grenade as the others took cover, the second explosion quickly shattering any further resistance. The three men moved in and made short work of the survivors, the last one dropping when Remi delivered the coup de grâce at point-blank range to the back of their head, shattering its helmet. After hastily scanning the area for potential threats, he called out to the others: “Come on up.”

Mairead and Genvass arrived moments later, the engineer taking a minute to orient herself before locating the ship’s mainframe interface, plugging in and downloading what she could. The rest of the crew started searching the bridge and surrounding area for hazards plus anything of value, delighted the assault had gone as well as it had, with no casualties on their side.

Unlike the others, however, the Dharmist was not in a celebratory mood.

“This was unnecessary,” he seethed. “Can’t you see they were no longer a threat?”

The crew kept their own counsel as Remi approached, reaching out and plucking the small pistol belted at Genvass’ waist, disarming him before he could object despite his shocked expression. “You think the only war we’re fighting is the one against the Yīqún?” he snarled. “Did you forget what happened the last time you sailed with us? The attack on Freya? Samara being controlled by the Eleexx?” He stepped closer, so close their helmets were in danger of bouncing off one another. “Remember how the Tu’udh’hizh’ak Masters tried to turn you into a sleeper agent? Do you?” he practically shouted.

Genvass flinched and looked away, earning him a sneer from the captain. “That’s what I thought,” he said in disgust. “You weep for the Chell, for their poor brainwashed souls, while conveniently ignoring the fact they would gladly gun you down without hesitation.”

Somehow, Genvass stood his ground. “Maybe so,” he admitted, “but you’ll never convince me that murdering helpless innocents is anything but wrong.”

Remi barked out a snort. “The Troika may be a lot of things, but ‘innocent’ isn’t one of them.” He gave him one last scowl and turned away, focusing instead on his engineer. “Where are you with the download?” he questioned her.

“Gimme a few more minutes,” she told him. “The mainframe keeps threatening to crash on me every few seconds. I’m really having to baby it along.”

“As quickly as you can then,” Remi nodded, before calling back to Gyrfalcon. “Xuilan, you have a good fix on this wreck?” he asked her.

“Roger that, Cap’n,” she answered. “I’ve triangulated its position and pinned down its current vector and velocity. Unless someone comes along and changes that, I’ll have no problems finding it again.”

“Excellent,” he said in approval. “Once we’re clear of the area, transmit that data to Captain Taneka on the Mako. Maybe we can’t do a proper salvage job, but she can. Besides, we owe her for the tow to Freya. Offer her the standard deal; ten percent finder’s fee goes to us. She gets the rest. No sense letting this go to waste.” The single positive aspect of the Yīqún war was the boom of derelict vessels, ripe for the taking. If it weren’t for all the ships they were losing against the machines, Remi might have considered the war to be the best thing that ever happened to the Corsairs.

“You got it, Cap’n,” she agreed. “I’ll send it once we’re safely out of range.”

Slavko and Isi returned from their sweep of the area, making their presence known. “Find anything?” he asked them.

“No surprises,” Isi shrugged. “If there are other survivors, they’re not near here.”

“Could be some trapped in one of the other compartments,” the gunner chimed in, “but if that’s the case, they’re not communicating.”

“Not our problem,” Remi growled. “Once Mairead’s finished, we’re heading back to Gyr. Let Captain Taneka worry about potential holdouts.” Giving them both an appraising look, he asked, “Find anything of value?”

“Pocketed a couple weapons we got off the defenders,” Slavko told him, “but other than that there’s not much here. All the good stuff is probably down in the cargo hold.”

“... and done!” the engineer announced, interrupting them. “Download’s complete,” she informed them, stowing away her gear.

“Then we’re out,” he ordered. “Find the nearest working airlock, and let’s go home.”

“Fine by me,” Isi agreed with a shudder. “Troika ships give me the creeps.”

No one was in the mood to argue that, not even Genvass, despite his feelings regarding the Chell they’d shot. Remi had known from the start that bringing him along was a bad idea, but in a moment of weakness, he’d let the Dharmist’s impassioned plea sway him. Even though it hadn’t turned into the disaster he’d feared, it still left all involved sullen and uneasy. It was a harsh truth of the universe that there simply weren’t any good options in times like these, merely less bad ones. The sooner his guest learned that the better for all concerned.

Checking the schematic, Mairead found an airlock two levels down and guided them to its location while Xuilan repositioned Gyrfalcon, narrowing the gap between them. There was little discussion during the crossing, still unsettled by what they’d seen on the broken alien warship. Upon their return, the engineer began working to decrypt their take from the ship’s mainframe, while Genvass went straight to his cabin, shunning the others. They resumed course for Sivor Uq’ish while Remi retired to his stateroom as well, struggling with a report on their discovery when the door chime interrupted his thoughts.

“Enter!” he called out, grateful for the distraction.

Xuilan poked her head in. “Is this a bad time?” she asked.

“No, it’s fine,” Remi replied, waving her in. “Course locked in?”

“It is,” she nodded, taking a seat opposite him. “I heard things got a little rocky over there.”

The captain shook his head. “I knew letting him tag along was a bad idea.”

“It was,” she agreed, “which makes me wonder why you did it.”

Raising an eyebrow, Remi glared at her. “You going somewhere with this?”

“I’m just trying to understand your reasoning,” she explained. “Like you said, it was a bad call, and you realized it almost immediately. But you still let him talk you into it, despite being completely unprepared for what he was likely to find. He was in over his head, and because of that, things got messy. None of that needed to happen. You could have just told him no and been done with it… and yet, you didn’t.” She peered into his eyes, struggling to discern his thoughts. “This isn’t like you, Cap’n.”

Remi looked away, his expression unreadable. “Thought he deserved a chance,” he grumbled. “That’s on me.”

Xuilan reached out and touched his arm. “Captain, it’s me,” she stressed. “I’m the one person on this ship you can be completely honest with. Not only am I your second in command, I’m also the one that’s known you the longest, ever since we were both snot-nosed ship rats aboard the Aesir.”

That earned her a chuckle as he turned back to face her. “Seems like a century ago.”

“Sometimes,” she agreed, “and sometimes it feels like it was only yesterday.” She sighed and leaned back in her chair. “What’s going on, Remi?”

“Nothing,” he assured her. “It was just a bad call. Won’t happen again.”

Xuilan cocked her head. “Are you sure there’s not something else to it?” she pressed him.

“Of course not,” he snorted. “We’ve got a lot on our plate, and I let myself get distracted. That’s all.”

She took a moment to process that, idly gnawing on her lip. “I know better than anyone what you had to become, and why,” she said at last. “It’s a hard old universe, and it won’t do you any favors. Only the strong survive, and that means sometimes you’re forced to do things that maybe you wish you didn’t have to.” Xuilan gave him a pointed look as his face suddenly turned to granite. “It leaves a mark on you, making those choices… and then one day you realize that line you swore you’d never cross is a thousand light-years behind you.”

Remi worked his jaw, his teeth slowly grinding together. “I did what I had to do,” he growled, glaring at her, “and I’d do it again.”

“I know,” she said softly, “and there wasn’t anything else you could have done.” She gave his arm a squeeze. “But I hate what that decision cost you, Remi.”

It was some time before he could speak. “Like you said… it’s a hard universe. Especially for a Terran,” he said at last. “I sit in that command chair because of what I did that day. It made me who I am. Who I needed to be, if I was to survive. Not only survive but thrive.” He spread his hands, indicating the compartment. “I command my own ship, going where I wish, when I wish. How many Terrans can say that?” His nostrils flared as he fought to control his emotions. “So don’t you dare feel sorry for me, Xui, because this is who I was always destined to be.”

She nodded, biting her lip as she slowly rose to her feet. “That’s what saddens me the most,” she whispered, her expression bittersweet as she let herself out.