Remi slowly regained consciousness to find himself in shackles.

It took him several minutes to gather his wits. His mind was fuzzy, his thoughts disjointed, aftereffects of whatever had knocked them out. He struggled to sit up, but with his wrists and ankles secured by manacles and chain, it proved to be more difficult than he’d imagined. With effort, he contorted his body into a sitting position, the metal links rattling loudly on the hard metal deck. Glancing around the compartment, he spotted Isi, already conscious and staring back at him.

“Hey boss,” the purser said. “Glad to see you’re awake.”

“How long have you been up?” the captain asked.

“Not long,” he shrugged. “Five, ten minutes maybe.” Peering around at the empty chamber, the big man shook his head. “Haven’t seen anyone yet, except the crew.” He jerked his head to the right, indicating the others, still unconscious. “Tried getting a closer look, but…” He rattled his own chain, shaking his head once more. “I think we got ourselves a problem.”

“Understatement of the millennium,” Remi answered with a snort. “I’m open to suggestions.”

“Sorry, Cap’n,” he sighed, “I can’t think of a damn thing. If they remove the chains, we could try rushing ‘em, I guess.”

“I’ve got a feeling the chains are staying on,” he grimaced. “The Troika might be arrogant, but they aren’t stupid.”

“... you’re both giving me a headache,” Mairead moaned, rolling over to face them. “Stop it already.”

“How are you feeling?” Remi asked.

“Head’s poundin’ like a drum,” she told him, “but other than that, I’m okay.”

Her response reminded him of their gunner’s injury. “Slavko… can either of you see if he’s all right?”

Mairead squinted in his direction. “He’s still breathin’,” she told him. “Can’t tell more than that.”

“At least he’s alive,” the captain said quietly. It wasn’t much, but given their situation, it was better than nothing. “I don’t suppose you’ve got a cutting tool hidden in your boot?” he asked hopefully.

“Sorry, Cap’n,” she lamented, “not even a screwdriver.” She rattled her chains and shrugged helplessly. “I’m guessing it’s a tungsten-graphene composite. Hard to cut even with tools.”

“Wonderful,” Remi sighed, as their pilot stirred. “Xuilan, are you with us?” he prompted her, earning a groan in reply.

“... barely,” she mumbled. She tried to sit, but after a few abortive attempts, she gave up, rolling over on her side to face them instead. “Guess we didn’t get clear.”

“Doesn’t look like it,” he grudgingly agreed.

“So what happens now?” Isi asked.

“Not much we can do,” Remi answered. “Wait for them to come for us, then look for our chance.”

“No offense, Cap’n,” Mairead groused, “but that ain’t too helpful.”

“At the moment, it’s all I’ve got,” he fired back. “We’re chained up in an empty compartment, probably under surveillance, and I’m betting there are armed guards right outside. Sort of limits our options,” he snapped.

“At least we’re still alive,” Isi pointed out. “They could have killed us with no one the wiser.”

“Not sure that’s a good thing,” Xuilan said nervously. “Whatever they have planned for us, it won’t be pretty.”

“Stay focused, people,” Remi ordered. “We’re not dead yet, which means there’s still a chance. Keep your eyes and ears open and be ready to move at a moment’s notice. Until then,” he sighed, “all we can do is wait.”

They didn’t have to wait long. Slavko still hadn’t regained consciousness when the hatch slid open and a dozen guards entered, four from each Troika race except for the Tu’udh’hizh’ak, who were represented by the rodent-like Chell instead. They removed their shackles from the connecting chains as they hoisted them to their feet before being dragged out into the corridor.

“Where are you taking us?” Remi demanded, only to earn a scaly backhand across the face from one of the Aggaaddub.

“Be silent,” the guard snarled, as he felt blood dripping from his nose. He tried to look around at the others, but the restraints and the guards themselves hampered his efforts. They probably won’t kill us, he reasoned, they could have done that back in the compartment. Whether he could consider that bit of information comforting or not remained to be seen.

They reached the end of the corridor at a larger-than-normal hatch, flanked on either side by three guards, also comprising each of the races. That was unusual… in fact, it was almost unheard of. The three races cooperated out of necessity, but there was little love lost between them. They disliked and distrusted each other immensely, so much so that even when they were forced to work together, they still kept themselves segregated. The level of partnership he was witnessing here was practically unheard of, though of course there was a reason for that… New Terra itself. If any of them ever figured out how to get past the planet’s defenses, their first order of business would be to eliminate the competition, starting with their erstwhile allies.

Which meant that here, this close to the prize, they had two choices; work together, or slaughter one another. Apparently, they’d chosen the first option, though he had to wonder just how solid their cartel truly was.

The hatch slid open as the guards transported them inside, as Remi goggled in astonishment. The compartment they had been dragged into was… well, if he had to give it a name, the only one that did it justice would be “Throne Room”. Three beings sat before them, from all three of the Troika master races, but the room itself was suffering from an extreme case of split personality disorder.

On the left sat a massive reptilian Aggaaddub, at least two and a half meters in height. The throne on which he was perched was something straight out of a medieval fantasy, carved from dark stone and decorated with the bleached skulls of several races, one of which appeared to be Terran. The lizard growled as they entered, eyeing them with fell intent.

In the center was an insectoid Eleexx, but its chair couldn’t have been more dissimilar from the first if they’d tried. It hovered over the deck with no visible means of support, constructed from advanced materials, and was surrounded by what appeared to be an incredibly complex computer station controlling Terra alone knew what. It gazed at them thoughtfully, its antennae twitching.

On the right, there was a small pond crafted from what looked like living rock, where an amphibian Tu’udh’hizh’ak rose from its depths. A waterfall cascaded behind, babbling softly, while all around grew plants obviously suited for a marshy setting. In and near the pool were a handful of Chell servants, seeing to their master’s every need. It perched upon a submerged slab, its expression inscrutable.

The guards unceremoniously dumped the Terran crew onto the deck and then stepped back, bowing before the… kings? Overlords? Oligarchs? Remi had no idea. Much about the Troika was shrouded in mystery, and he’d never heard what their leaders were called, or how they were chosen. With effort, he could stand, though the manacles kept him hunched. One by one, the others did the same, except for Slavko, who was still unconscious.

“So, the crew of the infamous Gyrfalcon,” the Eleexx buzzed, “we meet at last.”

Remi lifted his head. “And you are?” he demanded. After all, why waste politeness on the likes of them? The odds of their ever leaving this ship alive didn’t bear mentioning.

The insectoid tapped at the console before him, bringing up an image of their ship on the monitor. “We have been aware of you and your vessel for some time, ever since your journey to your homeworld,” it explained, ignoring his own questions. “You eluded us, regrettably, despite our best efforts.” Its antennae homed in on him. “I would ask what became of Doctor Axchxairx, but it is quite obvious you had him murdered.”

Angrily, the Aggaaddub snarled. “This is a waste of time. Kill them and be done with it.”

The sounds of hissing and chirruping drew their attention to the amphibian Tu’udh’hizh’ak, clearly speaking to one of the Chell. The rodent bowed as he finished and turned to the others. “My master suggests we not act in haste,” it interpreted. “Instead, he proposes the Empire be given domain over the prisoners, so that we may turn them to our advantage.”

The crew stared in horror. They knew full well what the master was referring to, having witnessed it for themselves. The Tu’udh’hizh’ak were telepaths, able to not only read the minds of other species but also to bend them to their will. It was how they kept their Chell servants loyal, and they’d tried to do the same to their shipmates during the mission to Earth. Luckily, one of their Knight companions found a cure before any permanent damage was done.

The only problem was they didn’t have access to any ketamine, the cure for mental enslavement. If the masters had their way, they’d turn him and his crew into their own personal agent provocateurs, happily betraying the Terran race without a qualm. Given their current situation, the only way to avoid that fate was to kill themselves before the coercion took hold. Not exactly a pleasant thought, assuming they could manage it at all.

“So you can use them against us?” the lizard snapped. “I think not.”

“I agree with our colleague we should not act impulsively,” the Eleexx responded, “though I believe giving the Empire sole jurisdiction in their disposition is… unwarranted at this time.” The Aggaaddub gave the Tu’udh’hizh’ak amphibian a toothy grin of satisfaction as the Eleexx continued. “Instead, I propose the Suzerainty take charge of the prisoners. There are several experiments we are currently conducting that they would be well suited for. Of course,” it said with a polite nod of its head, “we would gladly share the results with our esteemed associates.”

“Explain to me how giving them over to you profits the Hegemony any more than giving the prisoners over to them,” the reptilian barked, waving his paw at the Tu’udh’hizh’ak. “Kill them, and we all benefit.”

Remi was about to interject when he forced himself to remain silent instead. Once again, the divisive nature of the Troika was rearing its head, and that could only work to their advantage. As an ancient Terran leader once put it; “When your enemy is making a mistake… don’t interrupt.” The longer they kept squabbling, the better, though how they could use that to get out of this mess was beyond him at the moment.

The amphibian began making noises once more, as its servant spoke up. “Corpses do nothing to gain us entry to the Precursor homeworld,” it stated. “I propose instead that we place them aboard one of our vessels and use their presence to secure access to the planet.”

“We’ve tried that!” the reptilian shouted. “It’s never worked! Not once! The instant whatever is protecting that world detects a non-Terran species, the ship is immediately destroyed!”

The humans shared glances with one another at that bit of information. Given what they knew about the precursors, and the strange connection Terrans seemed to share with them, it was easy to see why the Troika had attempted that dodge. That it failed meant the AI or whatever it was guarding the door was even smarter than they’d realized.

“This internecine bickering is not productive,” the Eleexx buzzed. “I suggest we remove the prisoners until we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

“Agreed,” the Aggaaddub nodded.

The Tu’udh’hizh’ak made a brief chirrup. “My master also agrees,” the Chell servant said for him.

The Eleexx touched a button on its console, opening the hatch. “Return the prisoners to their cell,” it ordered, as the guards moved forward, grabbing them by the arms and dragging them off as the hatch closed behind them.

“Someone mind explaining what the point of that was?” Mairead snorted, only to earn a blow to her own head.

“Be silent,” the guard snarled once again.

It was several hours later when the hatch to their cell opened. A Chell servitor entered, closing the portal behind them. It carried two containers, one of water, the other some kind of paste. It glanced at the crew, its whiskers twitching, before removing a device from its pocket and activating it.

“We haven’t much time,” it hissed. “I can only disrupt the sensors for a few moments.”

“Who are you?” Remi demanded, sitting up.

“My name is not important,” it said in a rush. “If you wish to escape this vessel, then you will listen to what I have to say.”

“You’re a Chell,” the captain snapped, as the others roused around him. “Why would you help us?”

“Because I am with the Brotherhood of Shadows, one of the few still living,” it answered. “Most of us died in the great purge… but not all.”

“The Brotherhood?” Remi snarled. “Thanks to you, the Yīqún have been rampaging all across the galaxy! Why should I listen to anything you have to say?”

“That was Elder Brother’s doing,” it hissed in return. “We knew nothing of his plans, and if we had, we would have stopped him. His actions have all but destroyed us, and for what? The petty revenge of an angry child against those who did nothing to harm us.” Its face contorted in anger. “He was a fool, and he is dead. Blame him if you must, but I was not responsible for the Yīqún.”

“Assuming I believe you, why would you help us?” Remi asked. A big part of him didn’t believe the Chell. He wouldn’t put it past the Tu’udh’hizh’ak masters to try a stunt like this, to get them to do something they wanted, though it was hard to see the point. If they were that big a threat, they could simply do as the Aggaaddub leader kept demanding and kill them. A ruse like this honestly seemed kind of pointless.

“Because our goals are intertwined, you and I,” the Chell said fervently. “You wish to claim the Precursor planet as your home, and we wish to be free of the masters forever. Once you claim that ancient world, I imagine your next objective will be to destroy the Troika’s power, once and for all.”

“And if it is?” Remi asked carefully.

“With the Troika defeated, and the masters destroyed, we will finally be free,” it said with sudden passion. “For millennia, we have dreamed of this, and now, with your help, the day of deliverance may finally be at hand.” Its eyes bore into his. “For that, I would give anything. Including my very life.”

Remi slowly nodded. “What do we need to do?”

“For now? Nothing,” it answered. “Await my signal. It will take time to make preparations. When we are ready to move, it must happen quickly.” The device he carried let out a soft beep. “My time is up. I must go.”

“When?” Remi demanded.

The Chell paused at the hatch. “Soon,” it vowed. The hatch opened as the servitor departed.

There was a long moment of silence before anyone spoke. “Can we trust him?” Xuilan whispered.

“... I don’t think we have a choice,” Remi said at last.