Part XVII: Orasten

Every thought in Jyra’s mind evaporated. Her curiosity about Macnelia, the repetitive reflections of the awkward encounter with Craig and Shandra, as well as her own anxiety disappeared. Once she heard Neeka’s report of the incoming enemy ship, she began sprinting toward the storage lockers on the other side of the vast hangar.

Jyra didn’t even pause as she heard three pairs of feet hitting the hangar floor as their owners jumped from Mastranada.

“What’d she say?” Craig called after Jyra. “Where are you going?”

“Come help! Now!” she yelled over her shoulder.

She wrenched open the shutters to the lockers. Light from the hangar spilled in, revealing large, dusty power cables for the laser cannons. The others arrived as she dragged the end of one cable out of a locker. Craig and Shandra leaned against the wall, recovering from the run. Leonick helped pull the cable Jyra had selected.

“What’s happening?” Shandra said between gasps.

“There’s a TF ship heading right for us,” Jyra said. “Neeka just reported it.”

Craig looked out into space through the invisible atmospheric shield cast across the open hangar door. The tiny speck of Tyrorken was all he could see besides the countless, distant stars.

“We’re in a marked TF ship. They might not even notice us,” he said, wiping the sweat from his forehead. “Do we have a plan?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” Jyra said. “But whatever we come up with, I’d feel better if our guns were armed and prepared defend us.”

Shandra staggered out of the other locker, pulling the second power cable. Craig seized it too and the four of them heaved the thick cables toward the cannons.

“We don’t even know if those are TF agents on board,” Jyra said, as they neared the artillery. “It could be a TF ship under Nilcyn control.”

“Where are the others?” Craig asked. Jyra wasn’t sure why she had an urge to slap him.

“I’m sure they’ll be here soon,” she said, through clenched teeth. The further they traveled toward the cannons, the heavier the cables became. “In the meantime, let’s get these where they belong.”

Berk and Macnelia approached just as Jyra and the others managed to energize the cannons.

“What’s going on?” Shandra asked.

“There’s a ship identified as a TF vessel headed our way,” Macnelia said, her voice hard and stern. “It’s not quite on radar, but Neeka’s got the code cracked and hacked into its nav computer. Its trajectory is going to bring it right by us.”

“How can we trust its trajectory?” Craig said. “Why would TF even make that information accessible when they are under siege?”

“It wasn’t simply accessible, but there’s a reason for the ease of locating it,” Macnelia said. “Neeka did a lot of digging. Turns out they had four other trajectories posted, but she weeded out the true one from the fakes. They made a special effort to throw off those that might pursue this ship.”

“Why?” Jyra said.

 “It would indicate they are carrying something valuable,” Leonick said.

“Exactly,” Macnelia nodded, her eyes gleaming. “We almost didn’t catch this coming at us, but now we know. The multiple trajectory report also suggests they’re probably much more nervous than we are. If they’ve got classified or sensitive material on board, they won’t be keen to engage, which gives us the advantage, so let’s take it.”

“So it’s definitely a TF ship?” Craig said.

“It seems to be,” Berk said. “Neeka’s program was able to determine slight variances between the TF and Nilcyn code. As the conflict has progressed, the codes have become more distinct.

“Now, our working plan is to apprehend the approaching vessel and we’ll pose as a TF patrol ship. We conveniently have a small Nilcyn ship we captured sitting in our hangar—” he jerked his head at Mastranada “—which can prove our credibility beyond the legitimate security and identity codes embedded in this ship. It should be easy to detain them for questioning before they can pass.”

“I thought we were just going to destroy them,” Shandra said.

“That’s what we thought, too,” Berk said. “Until we suspected it might be worth the risk to board them to seize their cargo.”

“Board them?” Jyra repeated. “If they’ve got something so important, won’t they have guards protecting it?”

“Not necessarily,” Macnelia said. “They kept a low profile while getting away from the planet. Armed guards are useless once they’re in space. One blast from a laser cannon destroys the ship and everyone on it.”

“It’s a point worth considering, though,” Berk said. “Hopefully, we can get close enough to either scan the ship or command them to report the number of people they have aboard.”

“Won’t that sound a little suspicious?” Craig said.

“Not if we convince them that we’re superior officers,” Macnelia said.

“If I am understanding correctly,” Leonick said, “the only reason we believe this incoming vessel is under TF control is based on the TF signals it sends?”

Macnelia nodded.

“Therefore, it is possible the ship could be operated by Nilcyns,” Leonick said.

Macnelia opened her mouth, but Berk stepped forward and ever so slightly raised a hand to discourage her from speaking.

“What do you recommend?” he asked Leonick.

“I suggest we establish visual communication with this incoming ship as soon as they are close enough,” Leonick said. He spoke as though he had this planned for weeks. “If we are speaking with TF agents, they ought to be in uniform. We have access to the database of officers on the main computer of this ship, which means at least one of us will need to dress up and pretend to be one on camera. Macnelia is right about detaining them; we can only manage it if they believe we have the authority to do so.

“If the incoming vessel refuses visual communication, I suggest we shoot it down the moment it comes into range. I am certain that if Nilcyns do in fact have control of that ship, they will fire on us the first chance they get.”

Berk broke away from the group, heading toward the bow of the ship.

“Where are you going?” Macnelia asked.

“The bridge,” Berk said. “I need to start checking the database.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Macnelia said and Berk paused.

“I do,” Jyra said. She was too preoccupied to realize she contradicted Macnelia.

“I think Leonick’s plan will give us a clear idea of who we’re dealing with on the inbound ship,” she said. “And once we know that, we’ll still have time to shoot first or demand to inspect their cargo.”

“All right,” Macnelia said, unable to hide her exasperation. “In addition to checking the officer database, you’ll need to ensure the visual com is operational, find an officer’s uniform, organize a boarding party as well as gunners—” she waved a hand toward the cannons—“decide who’s going to speak to the crew of the other ship, and initiate communication with them. I want an update in an hour. The inbound ship will be here in three.”

She frowned at Jyra as she pivoted to depart for the bridge. Berk followed, though at a slower pace to keep some distance from Macnelia.

“I don’t think she’s mad at any of us,” Shandra said, shifting uncomfortably. She didn’t seem convinced by her own words.

“We can worry about that later,” Jyra said, hoping to curtail any discussion about Macnelia. “She’s right, though. I like Leonick’s plan—” she glanced at him, but his face remained as impassive as ever—“but it’s going to take some preparation. I assume Berk is looking into the officer database. We will at least need an officer’s jacket.”

“The laundry facilities,” Shandra said at once. “Everything that might have been in the crew quarters likely got sucked out with the breach. There’s a hatch off the main passage that leads to the laundry bay, though. I don’t think anything got pulled through it.”

“Good place to check,” Jyra said. “Go see what you can find.”

Shandra set off, leaving Leonick and Craig with Jyra.

“As for a boarding party,” Jyra continued. “I figured we would leave two people here on the ship, similar to how we ran the rescue mission for Derek. Of course, he’s not in any condition to fight, so I think it’d be best if he joins Neeka on the bridge. Are you willing to serve on the boarding party, Leonick?”

Leonick closed his eyes and appeared to fall asleep where he stood.

“I will, but I will not kill anyone,” he said, after a few moments of silence.

“If we play our role right, there won’t be any need to kill,” Jyra said.

“We need more than just a TF officer’s jacket,” Craig said.

“What do you mean?” Jyra asked.

“The moment we board and it’s clear we aren’t who we claim to be, whoever is waiting for us will attack. Shouldn’t we all be in full uniform to preserve the surprise? Regardless what they tell us over the com, five people might greet us, or it could be fifty.”

“I suppose it all depends on what we can find,” Jyra said, shrugging. “If we locate enough uniforms for all of us, great. If not, we’ll just have to make a quicker entrance.”

“I’ll go see what I can dig up,” Craig said. Jyra realized he was making for the laundry bay, too. Her irritation must have shown in her expression, because Craig narrowed his eyes at her, but then his face split into a wide smile and he performed an exaggerated salute before turning his back.

“Should we prepare the cannons?” Leonick asked.

“Yes,” Jyra said, sensing the energy of her anxiety transforming into motivation. “Once we’ve done that, I wonder if you’d update Macnelia on our progress.”

“I will,” Leonick said.

                        *

Forty-five minutes later, Jyra and Leonick climbed onto the bridge. All the members of the resistance, except for Macnelia, were present. Derek and Neeka were sitting next to each other in front of Neeka’s console. Craig and Shandra were sorting through a pile of green trousers and jackets, assessing their condition and sizes.

Berk stood up from his computer and thudded past Jyra, raising a finger toward Neeka.

“You’re the lookalike,” he announced.

“I’m the what?” Neeka said.

“You’re going on visual com with the incoming ship.”

“Why?”

“It’s part of the plan,” Jyra said, hurrying over. “You’re going to tell them we’re a patrol ship inspecting all incoming and outgoing transports from Tyrorken.”

“We’ll lure them in with that story,” Berk added. “Then we’ll find out what they’re working so hard to protect.”

“Who’s boarding?” Derek asked.

“Everyone except you two,” Jyra said. “We need you here as the broad eyes for this operation.”

“Fine with me,” Neeka said.

“I’d probably just slow you down,” Derek said sarcastically, glancing at his wounded leg. Jyra saw through the dry humor that he wasn’t happy at all to remain on the bridge.

“Here,” Shandra said, interrupting by throwing Neeka a green jacket. “Try that on.”

“It’s got the correct stripe pattern,” Derek said.

Neeka pulled the jacket on and got to her feet, checking to see how it looked.

“Come see who you’re impersonating,” Berk said. “Unless you’re in the middle of something. I’ll fill you in on our story.”

“I’ve got it,” Derek said, shifting his chair in front of the monitor.

Neeka and Berk moved over to Berk’s computer. Jyra leaned in next to Derek and saw the radar schematic of the incoming ship.

“What kind of ship is that?” she asked.

“O2 supplier,” Derek said. “TF has a whole fleet of them. They’re the reason you can breathe on Tyrorken.”

“How long have they been importing clean air?” Jyra asked.

“Since people struggled to breathe on the surface,” Derek said. “It’s not a bad choice for a getaway ship, though. They’re some of the most frequent transports on and off of Tyrorken and wouldn’t draw much attention.”

“Is it still producing a TF signal?”

Derek tapped several keys and a reading appeared on the bottom of the monitor. He nodded.

“Positive TF identity,” he said. “They’re almost in audio com range. If we’re posing as a patrol ship, we’d better initiate the communication.”

“Is the visual com set up and ready?” Jyra asked.

“Berk already took care of it,” Derek said. “It’s on standby.”

Jyra glanced over at Berk. Both he and Neeka were leaning over his monitor, discussing the officer Neeka was about to mimic. Jyra suddenly remembered the altercation with Craig on the gunner’s platform. She wondered how Berk might have reacted if she’d had the same conversation with him.

It seemed Berk often made an effort to shelter Macnelia. He soothed her in moments of stress. He’d advised Jyra not to point out Macnelia’s odd behavior to other members of the resistance. However, in the last hour, he had motioned for Macnelia’s silence in order to hear Leonick. Despite Macnelia’s frustrated departure from the main hangar, Berk appeared entirely unperturbed and focused as he made every effort to execute the Leonick’s plan.

A small radar icon began spinning on the monitor. The sight of it and Derek’s shout jerked Jyra’s attention back to the bridge.

“The ship’s in audio range!”

“Thanks Derek,” Berk replied, his growl as low as ever, but it seemed to fill the cavernous area of the bridge.

“Are you ready?” Berk asked, his eyes glittering at Neeka under his wild hair.

Neeka only nodded and picked up the com microphone.

Derek typed several commands into his computer before sitting back with a strained sigh.

“Ready to transmit,” he said.

Neeka gulped and clutched the microphone, staring at the screen with her script. Then, she clamped the button with her finger.

“This is Tynisha Miter, Captain of ring patrol vessel Valiant Conductor II. This message is for the captain of the approaching ship Orasten. Please respond for further instructions.”

Jyra would never have guessed Neeka could sound so authoritative. Though her hands shook, her voice was bold and clear. Jyra glanced back at the ladder where Leonick had been standing, but he wasn’t there.

“I think he went down to give Macnelia an update,” Craig said softly, gliding up beside Jyra.

“What have you been up to besides doing laundry?” Jyra whispered.

“Shandra and I composed Neeka’s script with help from Derek,” Craig said, clapping Derek on the shoulder.

“It’s not hard,” Derek said, giving Jyra a small smile. “Once you capture the snappy and pompous rhetoric, any TF agent will assume you’re one of them.”

Neeka recited her opening line again, though this time she added “or we will fire” to the end of her final sentence.

The blatant threat didn’t elicit an immediate reply. She glanced sideways at Berk and gave a hopeless shrug.

“Do I need to see to the cannons?” Craig asked.

“Wait,” Berk said. Only a few seconds passed before a voice from Orasten crackled out of the speakers.

“Valiant Conductor II this is Lyle Deleanor, Captain of transport Orasten. Hold your fire. Repeat, hold your fire.”

“Understood,” Neeka said. “Where are you headed?”

“I’m sorry, Captain,” Lyle replied. “Information about my mission is strictly classified.”

“I am as concerned as you are given the attack,” Neeka said. “But I have orders as well, which command me to search ships both coming and going from Tyrorken.”

“I have orders to keep a steady course,” Lyle said, sounding uncomfortable.

“You needn’t disobey them then,” Neeka said. “Based on the scan in front of me, our ships have compatible airlocks, which means I can conduct my search without delaying you.”

“I’d rather not—“

Jyra flinched as Neeka continued in a darkened tone.

“Let me explain something to you,” she said fiercely. “Our company is under siege. We are at war. And in case you are unaware, our enemy has an uncanny ability to pretend to be us by mimicking our codes and transmitted signals. That means once we’re in visual com range, we’ll have a screen-to-screen discussion to make sure you are who you say you are. If I’m convinced you are loyal to TF, I won’t shoot you down, but merely request to board your ship and make sure you are transporting what you say you are transporting. You are, as you mentioned, a transport.”

“Who authorized this?” Lyle said. Even over the com, he couldn’t hide his nerves.

“That is classified,” Neeka said. “Contact me when you’re in visual range. If you fail to do so, or if you decide to make a run for it, I’ll blow your ship in half.”

Neeka let go of the microphone and fell into a nearby chair.

“Good performance,” Berk said. “A little more…forceful than I pictured.”

“Extremes are always easier to fake,” Neeka said with a small smile. She pushed the collar of the TF jacket down from her chin. “How long until I have to go on camera?”

“Another half hour by the looks of it,” Derek said. “I think you scared that poor bastard.”

“Leonick’s just filled me in on the plan. What’s our current status?” Macnelia said, stepping out of the ladder well. “

“Neeka just spoke to the incoming ship,” Berk said. “They’ve been informed that if they don’t agree to be searched, we’ll wipe them from space.”

“How did they take the news?” Macnelia asked.

“I don’t think the captain knew what hit him,” Craig said. “We just have to wait for them to request visual com once they’re in range.”

“If they don’t initiate the call, I said we would destroy them for that as well,” Neeka said.

Jyra watched Macnelia closely as her brow furrowed and she clutched the railing near the ladder.

“You didn’t sound too antagonistic, did you?” Macnelia asked after a moment.

Why didn’t we bring her up here sooner? Jyra thought. This is only going to stress her out more.

“Neeka did an excellent job,” Berk said.

“Replay the transmission,” Macnelia ordered. She strode over to the central console and picked up a pair of headphones.

“Playing back,” Berk reported, nodding at Macnelia to begin listening. She didn’t move or seem to react at all as everyone waited in silence.

Jyra heard soft footsteps and looked over to see Leonick moving toward the ladder. She crossed to him before he disappeared.

“Where are you going?” she whispered.

“To the cannons,” Leonick said. “We have to be ready.”

“What about Macnelia?” Jyra said.

“I think I know how she is going to react,” Leonick said and descended out of sight.

Macnelia pulled off the headphones when the playback ended.

“You sounded convincing,” she said, giving Neeka a small smile. “Who wrote the script?”

“We did,” Craig said. He and Shandra stood near Derek, who continued to monitor Orasten’s progress.

“It worked for the most part,” Macnelia said. “Though it came off much stronger that was necessary. We don’t want to destroy the ship if we don’t have to. The whole reason we’re going to all this trouble is to get a look at what they’re transporting. There’s no need to be so hostile at this stage.”

“Are you ready to participate in this operation, then?” Neeka asked. Jyra didn’t detect any note of sarcasm or bitterness in the question, but Macnelia didn’t receive it well.

“Don’t patronize me,” she snapped. “That’s why I’m here. I want to go over the visual com script.”

“It’s on your screen,” Berk said.

“You’ve got about half an hour to forty-five minutes before they’re in range,” Derek said.

Macnelia didn’t say a word as she read. Although everyone else resumed preparations to intercept Orasten, they exchanged glances, waiting for feedback. Jyra rejoined Derek at his computer.

“They’re still on track,” Jyra said, keeping her voice low so as not to disturb Macnelia.

“So far he’s following orders,” Derek said.

“What’s that?” Jyra asked, pointing at a flashing icon in the corner of the screen.

Derek reflexively bent for the keyboard, before he realized he hadn’t seen the pulsing green dot before.

“Neeka, what’s this?” he said. Neeka had started helping Shandra and Craig fold up the extra TF uniforms, but she came to Derek’s side. The moment the green light reflected off her face, she sat in an empty chair and pulled herself right up to screen.

“I need the keyboard,” she said, her fingers already striking the keys nearest to her. Derek rolled aside and the stern of the radar image of Orasten began flashing green in time with the icon.

“What does it mean?” Derek asked gently.

“I wrote this identifier into the radar,” Neeka said, her focus never leaving the monitor. “It’s a thermal sensor alarm. They’re preparing to gun their engines.”

“Trying to run?” Jyra said and Neeka nodded.

“What do we do?” Derek said.

“Nothing for the moment,” Neeka said. “They’re too far out for us to fire a warning shot. They don’t know that we can see this, either. Best leave it as a surprise for Lyle once he’s on camera.”

Jyra glanced at Berk and saw that Macnelia had moved to his side. They conferred quietly, their attention periodically shifting to the monitor. Macnelia was rubbing her wrist. Berk stretched and it caused the sleeves of his jacket to pull back from his hands. Jyra caught sight of Berk’s wrists, the skin shining in the harsh light from the monitor. She wasn’t sure where the thought came from, but she suddenly wondered if Macnelia might have a tattoo similar to the one Berk had.

It’s not just stress, she thought. Something else is bothering her.

Just as soon as the idea arrived, Macnelia called Neeka’s name.

“The script is ready,” Berk announced.

“And you should be, too,” Macnelia added.

“The ship is preparing to jump past us,” Neeka said.

“We won’t let that happen,” Macnelia said. “We need you to get in front of the camera now.”

Neeka straightened her jacket and pulled her hair back firmly. She already looked more severe than Jyra had ever seen her. Derek remained at his computer, but everyone else began moving toward the central console where Neeka stood, waiting to receive the visual call.

“Put these on,” Shandra said, passing out jackets.

“Walk with purpose if you cross into the shot,” Craig said. “That looks less suspicious.”

“Best that most of you step back,” Derek said. “We’ve got an incoming call.”

The discussion got off to a promising start. Lyle wore the proper uniform of a TF captain and the crew moving behind him also appeared genuine. Berk checked Lyle in the officer database and confirmed his identity. It soon became clear, however, that Lyle would not easily submit to Neeka’s demands. He spoke of a need to arrive at his destination within a certain time frame to transfer his cargo. Then he mentioned his low fuel levels.

“In that case,” Neeka said slowly, judging Lyle’s reaction as she spoke, “why are you stoking your engines?”

As expected, Lyle fell silent and she pounced.

“You’re getting quite close to my ship now,” she warned. “I’ve got a live report of your engine operations and if you don’t shut down your booster right now, I’ll blow it off your ship. You’re in cannon sights, which means it’s too late to run.”

“Stop threatening me,” Lyle said. “We’re all on the same side here.”

“If that’s true I need you to prove it,” Neeka said. “Right now, you aren’t cooperating.”

“These are dangerous times and I’m exercising caution,” Lyle said, gritting his teeth. “I’m sorry if you don’t consider that cooperating.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Jyra saw Macnelia pick up another microphone from Berk’s console. She spoke into it with a low voice and pointed at Neeka.

“Watch out,” Neeka said, her eyes locked on Lyle’s through the camera.

Jyra heard a dull thud that echoed through the main passage. The sound reverberated briefly on the bridge and faded. Lyle cried out in shock.

“You will be sorry for not cooperating,” Neeka said. “Next time, it won’t just be a shot across your bow. I’ll begin rotating my ship to bring our airlocks into alignment. I look forward to meeting you in person.”

“As you say,” Lyle said, beads of sweat blossoming on his forehead. “I will see you shortly.”

                        *

Footsteps echoed in the wide corridor as the boarding party proceeded to the airlock. Jyra clutched her gun, hoping that if she strengthened her grip she might keep her arm from shaking. She kept her other hand in her waist pocket. Everyone wore green TF jackets and trousers. Berk looked the most unconvincing of the whole group since his uniform was about three sizes too small.

A scan of Orasten indicated the ship’s airlock would open right into its main hangar. Whatever was worth taking would likely be stored there. The scan hadn’t been precise enough to get an estimate of how many people were aboard. Neeka asked Lyle about it early in the visual call, but he only replied that he had a standard number of crew. A confused expression accompanied his answer and Neeka thought it best not to press the point.

The boarding party turned a corner and Jyra knew they were getting closer to the airlock. They were on the port side of Valiant Conductor II, walking past a row of crisis capsules, which provided crew a way to escape the ship if it were in jeopardy. Not a single capsule had been launched; no one had made it here once Jed’s sabotage began.

Macnelia stopped in front of the airlock and the boarding party assembled behind her. Berk shifted and Jyra thought she heard several seams tearing. He fidgeted and pushed at something under his coat. Jyra suspected it was his shotgun. Leonick raised his flask toward Berk, but he shook his head.

“I’m out,” he said. “Hopefully they’ve got some more on this wreck.”

Leonick tipped his flask back to his own lips and took a long sip.

A thud, followed by a resounding clang, signaled the docking of Orasten.

“Raise your weapons and follow me,” Macnelia said. A light near the airlock turned from red to green. She opened the door and illumination from Orasten spilled onto the boarding party.

Part XVI: Codes and cannons

Two Tyrorken days went by and Neeka hadn’t made any progress on solving the code. She had taken few naps on Macnelia’s orders, but returned to the bridge immediately upon waking to analyze the cryptic communication on her monitor.

Nearly everyone else aboard was thinking about how they would attack the TF fleet, but nothing could be finalized until Neeka translated the code.

Jyra’s anxiety toward the looming battle had grown so fierce she found herself going to bed earlier each night. Her family returned in her dreams and she didn’t have to think about the resistance or fighting. When she first moved into her room, she put her mother’s locket and Dario’s dagger in the drawer with her clothes. Now she kept them next to her bunk so that they were the last things she saw before she slept and they were there when she woke.

Of course, she couldn’t stay in her quarters all the time. Jyra caught herself feeling envious of Derek because he spent almost every day in bed, but a rush of guilt banished the thought. He’d been wounded helping her escape from Tyrorken in the first place.

As she stepped into the corridor from her room, Jyra felt the pressure build in her chest as she considered heading up to the bridge. Neeka would be there, glued to her monitor and running her fingers through her hair. She would also see Berk, who had taken over another computer. Jyra didn’t know what he was up to, but she presumed, were it possible, he was spending as much time as Neeka on the bridge.

Hoping she could give her anxiety the slip, Jyra abruptly walked the opposite way toward the main hangar. By the time she reached its polished floor, worry threatened to ensnare her again, but she quickly found a distraction.

Craig was standing on the gunner’s platform of one of the laser cannons. Jyra could see him testing levers on the control panel. It occurred to her that although the resistance had been eating meals in the midst of the heavy artillery, she hadn’t ever examined how to operate them. As she approached, Craig looked up and nodded at her. She jogged the rest of the way to the base of the main cannon body and climbed up a set of rungs to access the platform. The entire weapon was about four times Jyra’s height. The barrel, if stood on its end, would be half the height of the cannon.

“How’s it going?” Craig asked when Jyra joined him next to the control panel.

“Fine,” Jyra said, surprised that she felt it was true. The unfamiliar machine before her pushed her anxiety aside.

“I thought it might be a good idea to learn how these things work,” Craig said. “It’s not like we can form a plan yet, but whatever we come up with, I think we’ll need cannon fire at some point.”

“What’s the basic firing sequence?” Jyra asked.

“Set your sight camera monitor,” Craig said, pulling the screen away from the turret on an articulated arm. He tapped a button and the blank monitor lit up, showing Tyrorken, a sandy sphere hanging in front of the twinkling stars of the galaxy. Jyra stepped closer, noticing her home planet in the crosshairs.

“Can the camera zoom at all?”

Craig pressed another button on the side of the monitor and Tyrorken appeared somewhat closer; a few of the ships in its orbit were visible now.

“These levers rotate the turret horizontally, and this one raises and lowers the barrel,” Craig explained. “It’s pretty straightforward.”

“It can’t fire now, right?” Jyra said, grasping the large lever that could only be the trigger.

“No, everything it’s doing now is off of its batteries,” Craig said. “We need to hook it up to the power cables before it can generate a lethal laser. Give it an adjustment,” he added, nodding at the levers for rotation.

Jyra moved one and the turret swung to the left, turning toward its fellow. She tugged the other lever and brought Tyrorken back into the cannon sight. The planet seemed so close. Jyra thought it should be so much easier to come to its defense.

“I liked Berk’s idea,” she said. “We should take Mastranada to see what we’re up against.”

Craig shook his head.

“Not until Neeka gets that code settled,” he said. “Macnelia won’t go for a scouting mission until then.”

“So we’re supposed to keep sitting on our hands?” Jyra said. She paused, expecting her anxiety to silence her or that she might think about the consequences of what she was about to say. A mixture of fear and urgency pushed the words through her lips.

“I don’t think Macnelia should be leading the resistance.”

Craig stared at Jyra. His mouth was half open and his eyes betrayed his alarm.

“I know she hasn’t been quite right recently,” he began, making an effort to keep his voice calm, “but you can’t just claim that.”

“I wasn’t claiming anything,” Jyra said. “I expressed my opinion.”

“A mutinous opinion,” Craig said, lowering his voice as he glanced behind the turret to make sure no one was listening. Jyra was too stunned by his words to reply for a moment.

“I didn’t mean—”she began.

“But you said it,” Craig interrupted.

“Let me finish,” Jyra snapped. “I’m not starting a resistance within the resistance, but I just wondered what you thought about Macnelia as a leader.” In the back of her mind, Jyra remembered Berk had told her not to discuss Macnelia’s odd behavior with anyone else, but she had already blundered into the territory.

“I’m not happy that we’re sitting out here like this either,” he said. “Nor do I think it’s unwise to occasionally challenge those in charge.”

“Are you talking about TF or Macnelia?” Jyra asked, raising her eyebrows.

“This isn’t a time for jokes,” Craig said with uncharacteristic coldness. “That said, attacking someone’s position in a campaign like ours is dangerous.”

“I wasn’t attacking,” Jyra said.

“That’s how it sounded,” Craig said. “You weren’t attacking her personally, but you said she wasn’t fit to lead. You can think whatever you want, but saying certain things out loud can undermine the entire resistance. Everyone on this ship is on the edge as well.”

“What do you mean?” Jyra asked.

“I’m sure you remember the dust storms from when you were growing up,” Craig said.

“No one who’s been through one could ever forget,” Jyra said.

“Tyrorken’s always been a warm planet, but there’s always a breeze,” Craig said. “Except before a dust storm. The air stood still and you’d start sweating immediately. Sometimes, the wind would cease for half an hour or a couple days. But when it returned, it blew the dust skyward. That’s what it’s like right now. We’re sweating and waiting because we’re heading toward something that could get much darker than any dust storm. It’s hard enough to do without causing divisions in the resistance.”

“I wasn’t trying to do that,” Jyra said. “Why don’t you believe me?”

“I do believe you,” Craig said after a moment. “You made me nervous, though. But I suppose it could be worse. You might have said it to someone else. You’d really be in trouble then.”

They climbed down from the gunner’s platform. Jyra’s felt dizzy. She still couldn’t understand Craig’s reaction. She bit her lip, doing her best to mentally review the conversation.

“What’s the matter?” Craig said.

“You scared me,” Jyra said, realizing it as she spoke. “You’re the one who got me into the resistance. You’re the one I’ve been able to come to when I need to get something off my chest.”

“Maybe you should talk to Macnelia about her condition,” Craig suggested. “Just don’t say what you said to me.” Even as he spoke, Jyra remembered Derek had given her the similar advice.

“She’s not too happy with me at the moment. I’ll bring it up to her soon, though,” she said.

“You can still tell me whatever’s on you mind,” Craig added, with an encouraging smile.

Jyra smiled too. “Clearly,” she said, “I can’t.”

                        *

Back in the safety of her room, Jyra took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She kept replaying the conversation with Craig in her mind. His reaction couldn’t have been more serious, but at the same time it seemed so exaggerated. He’d said that everyone was more nervous than usual. Jyra couldn’t argue with that; her anxiety had set her to pacing back and forth in her room. Maybe Craig’s nerves had gotten the better of him. It certainly played a role in how he responded to Jyra’s opinion.

“He’s not like that,” Jyra said aloud.

She paced several more times before remembering she had gone to the main hangar to avoid her room as well as the bridge. Craig had remained in the hangar so Jyra didn’t want to go there. In order to leave her quarters, Jyra decided to ignore her misgivings about visiting the bridge and headed toward the bow.

 She passed Macnelia’s door and hesitated. Part of her wanted to keep walking; she didn’t even have an idea of how to start the conversation. The rest of her wanted to have the discussion so that she might stop worrying about Macnelia. The sooner I talk things over, the less chance I have of telling more people my suspicions, Jyra thought. Then again, if I can’t control myself, maybe Macnelia’s not the one I should be worried about.

Jyra felt guilty that she hadn’t brought her concerns directly to Macnelia in the first place. Her parents had always said to talk to those who upset her.

“You need to connect with the specific person so that you can move forward,” Tadwin explained. “You can chat to however many people you want about the problem, but if you don’t ever talk to the people involved to resolve it, then you’ve got a loose end. The more loose ends you have, the harder it can be to keep yourself together.”

A shout in the distance took Jyra’s attention elsewhere. It came from where she was already headed. She climbed the ladder onto the bridge to find Macnelia and Neeka yelling at each other. Berk crossed in front of Jyra so quickly, he nearly knocked her down the way she had come.

“I almost had it!” Neeka shouted, pointing an accusing finger at Macnelia. “You ruined it!”

“You need your sleep!” Macnelia shot back. “You’re exhausted!”

“It doesn’t matter!” Neeka said. “How am I supposed to get sleep knowing I was that close?”

“Enough!” Berk roared over the two women. “Take a breath and maybe it’ll clear your heads.”

“That’s the last thing I need,” Neeka muttered.

“Just go to bed,” Macnelia said, pushing her hair out of her face.

Jyra moved away from the ladder to allow Neeka a clear exit. Macnelia glanced at Neeka’s computer monitor for a moment before switching it off.

“Do you think she had something?” Berk asked.

“Does it matter?” Macnelia said. “Until she started shouting, she sounded delirious. She’s acting like all she has to do is crack the code. I’ve seen what happens when she puts too much effort into something like this. Once we know this code, we’re going to need everyone ready to fight. Believe me, if Neeka pushes herself too hard on this task, she’ll be no use in combat.”

Macnelia swept away from Berk and descended the ladder, glancing at Jyra with a neutral expression.

“Might not be a bad idea for everyone to take a nap a the moment,” Macnelia said, as she disappeared into the dim passage below.

Jyra looked at Berk as he came striding back toward his computer.

What have you been doing up here, besides keeping the peace?” she asked, following him to his console.

“Checking the climate conditions on Tyrorken,” Berk said, taking a swig from his flask.

“Temperatures are pretty high above the ruins of the complex,” Berk explained, pointing at a weather chart of Tyrorken. “That’s expected. But you have to compare the temperatures to this next map.”

He struck several keys and another chart overlaid the first.

“I’ve been analyzing the cloud cover to see if there’s any chance of it thinning enough to get our radar down to the surface,” Berk said. “The hot air seems to be pushing clouds aside. If it keeps up, we could have a shot at discovering how many ships are down there.”

“That could bypass this whole nightmare,” Jyra said, nodding toward Neeka’s console.

“I think the actual battle might be more of a nightmare,” Berk said, sipping from his flask again.

                        *

Jyra and Berk remained on the bridge, discussing possible approaches to the strike, until they heard someone climbing the ladder. Neeka appeared at the top of the ladder. Her eyes were bloodshot and her hair frazzled. She shuffled to her computer without a word and sat down. Within a few moments, her defeated appearance shifted and she sat back, placing her hands behind her head and massaging her knuckles.

“What is it?” Berk called across the bridge.

“More encryption,” Neeka said. “They’ve added another layer.”

“TF is fighting off the Nilcyn’s infiltration?” Jyra said.

“If the Nilcyn’s gained control of the communication, it could be the other way around,” Berk reminded her.

“Wait a moment,” Neeka said, sitting up. “There’s a line. It just says ‘launching.’ And there’s the encrypted version of the message. Perfect.” She sat up straight, almost looking like herself again. Her fingers drummed on the keyboard and she smiled. “I think they’re finally overrunning the encryptor.”

“It’s TF,” Berk said. “I would’ve expected their standards to fall much sooner.”

“Not where their security’s concerned,” Neeka said.

“Especially in that sector,” Berk snorted.

“Why?” Jyra said.

“No one can know for certain because this is the Nilcyns I’m talking about,” Berk said. “But I’ve heard it from enough people on enough planets that the Nilcyns began as the security force for TF.”

“What?” Jyra asked.

“They started traveling with large cargo missions and were able to spread throughout the galaxy that way,” Berk said. “They inspired locals on planets to join them. The way I heard it, they split from TF altogether after they stole a fully loaded cargo ship.”

“Only they still share a communication code,” Jyra said.

“I suppose the process of secession can always be a little more drawn out than people expect,” Berk said.

“This is coming together,” Neeka interrupted.

“You’ve almost got it?” Berk asked.

“Just about,” Neeka said. “My program’s finally got a read on the code. It should crack it soon enough.”

“I—” Jyra started to say she would go get Macnelia, but realized that might not be a good idea. She coughed to give herself a moment to think of something else to say.

“I was wondering how Derek is doing,” she said, rubbing her throat. Berk nudged her with his flask. She declined the offer as Neeka looked her direction.

“Probably for the best,” Berk muttered.

“He seems fine,” Neeka said. “Complains every now and then. He enjoys the news. Or he did.”

“What do you mean?” Jyra asked.

“The signal cut out just before I came back here,” Neeka said.

Jyra exchanged glances with Berk, but his expression showed no reaction to the news.

“Well something’s definitely happening down there,” Jyra said.

“As long as someone’s talking about it, we’ll soon know what it is,” Neeka said, glancing at her monitor.

                        *

Jyra returned to her room, relieved that Neeka’s program would have the code solved within the hour. She sat her bed, turning Dario’s dagger in her hands, wondering what he would do in this situation. He had always liked to be prepared for whatever he had to do on a given day. When they built the tree house together, Dario insisted on gathering everything they would need before starting construction. They would arrange the tools and materials in their small shop and make sure the welder had been lubed and calibrated.

If he were here, Jyra thought, he’d be checking the cannons and preparing them for battle. If the resistance was on the cusp of solving the enemy’s code, it seemed they should power up the weapons. This thought led Jyra back to the main hangar, but Craig wasn’t there. The cargo door on Mastranada was open and Jyra climbed inside.

She instinctively headed for the cockpit. Just before reaching it, Jyra heard voices. She stepped inside and saw Craig and Shandra sitting together, heads bowed, their fingers locked together. They both looked up at the noise of Jyra’s entrance.

She stopped short and held her breath, her purpose for coming momentarily forgotten.

“What’s going on?” Craig asked, letting go of Shandra’s hands and swiveling in his chair.

“It sounds like Neeka’s nearly cracked the code,” Jyra said, wondering if she was imagining the strange buzz behind her words.

“Excellent,” Shandra said. Jyra didn’t recognize her tone either. It was much brighter than Shandra’s usual dull voice.

“I thought it might be about time to hook up the cannon power cables,” Jyra said.

“What did Macnelia say?” Craig said.

For a moment, Jyra wasn’t sure what Craig meant. Did he think she had talked to Macnelia about her condition, or was he asking if Macnelia had ordered to power up the cannons? The confusion only further delayed Jyra recovering herself since entering the cockpit.

“She’s asleep,” Jyra said. “But I think it’s time.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Craig said, with a note of finality.

“Where’s Leonick?” Jyra said, taken aback by how difficult it was to speak. “I should tell him about the code.”

“I think he’s in the engine room,” Shandra said. “On this ship,” she added.

Jyra nodded and departed with a stiff, “thanks,” before heading aft.

She had no intention of finding Leonick. Instead Jyra jumped out of the cargo bay door and waited. She couldn’t go directly to her room because she’d be seen from Mastranada’s cockpit. She had to wait a few minutes so that it might seem plausible she had actually gone to speak with Leonick.

Just when Jyra determined enough time had passed, Neeka’s voice filled the main hangar.

“We’ve got a TF vessel heading right for us. Prepare the cannons.”