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PG-13 for general themes.

Part One
Part Two
Part Three



Terinu woke up to find himself lying face down on the floor of the cargo bay, stomach clenching in stunner nausea. He swallowed back on his bile and a moan. He was going to be in enough trouble with Lady Mavra as it was, without puking and mewling like some kid on a liner that just figured out pirates weren’t any kind of fun. He pushed himself onto his back and stared up to see Lady Mavra herself looking down on him, looking none too happy.

“Milady,” he greeted. He would have gotten up to bow properly, but his legs didn’t seem to be working yet. Instead he grabbed the edge of a crate and pulled himself up to a sitting position. His twin was lying on the ground, still unconscious and being hogtied into a set of shackles. Lying near him was Matt, also still out, hands cuffed behind him. Terinu felt a wave of anger wash over him that gave him the strength to push himself to his feet. He wobbled a bit and then said, “How may I serve you, Milady?”

Her eyes narrowed. “You can explain, Mouse, how you managed to let yourself be ambushed and captured, and how you let Mr. Townsend let the prisoners out of their cells.”

“Even I woulda had a hard time trying t’ beat four mooks armed with rifles. As it was they got the drop on me.” He didn’t add that he’d been feeling fatigued already, close to being fagged out from having to expend so much Bion trying to beat his twin. He knew Lady Mavra had to be in a foul mood already, to be calling him by his old, hated nickname. She wouldn’t be interested in excuses. “And I didn’t let Matt release the prisoners. That was all his doin’. He already knew I was pissed about him just talkin’ t’ the skirt.” His tail slapped the floor. Damnit, why had Matt done something so flaming stupid?

“Consider yourself lucky. Instead of being kidnapped yourself, we’ve got an additional prisoner.” Chan gestured over to the body of a Vulpine lying on the deck, the same one that Terinu had seen in the brief moment before he’d been stunned, near the skirt that Matt had also let loose.

“What ‘r ya goin’ t’ do to him?”

Lady Mavra looked thoughtful, “He’s got some sort of awful dye job in his fur, which makes me wonder what he’s trying to hide. If it turns out that he’s twin to the other Vulp that got away, I suppose I’ll just have to start breaking his fingers until he tells me who he and his counterpart are.”

“Let me know if ya need him worked over,” Terinu said, walking over to where Matt still lay. He grabbed the human teen, pulling him, still only half-conscious, to his feet.

“What do you think you’re going with that, Mouse?” Lady Mavra asked, her voice suddenly going flat.

“Back to our quarters,” Terinu answered.

Chan took hold of Matt’s elbow, pulling him out of Terinu’s grip. The human boy fell down to his knees and let out a confused moan. “He’s not going anywhere except to the brig.”

Terinu’s spurs flattened against his head and his tail lashed. “He’s mine.”

“No, Mouse, he’s mine,” she replied, taking hold of Matt’s scalp. “I just let you play with him. He’s going to the brig with the rest of the prisoners. What I do with him after that will depend.”

“On what?” Terinu pushed.

“That’s for me to know, and you not to worry about,” Mavra said sharply. “That’s an order.”

Terinu opened his mouth, trying to protest further, but the words died in his throat. Instead he merely answered, “Yes, Milady,” and watched as Matt was hauled away.

His eyes dropped down, looking at the strange collar locked to his unconscious twin’s head. It fitted perfectly, looking smooth and polished. It wasn’t some one-off jury rig that had been put together at the last minute. It was something that had been made for his twin a long time ago.

Made for me.

He frowned and stomped back to his quarters, spurs down, tail still lashing.

* * *

He crawled from the debriefing, metaphorically, back to his cabin, escorted by Lance and Lance. No words passed between the two large humans and himself. He strongly suspected if he’d attempted to say anything, all he would have earned was a broken jaw to accompany the plasma burn on his upper arm.

“You stay in there,” one of them said, opening his door for him. The other gave him a sharp shove between his shoulders to help him into the room, sending Rufus to his knees. “You try to leave before we’re out of this and able to drop you off somewhere, we’ll give ye quick trip out the airlock without a suit, got it?”

“I hear you quite clearly,” he replied. The door slid shut with a thunk, leaving him sitting on the floor in the darkness. He didn’t feel inclined to get up, but eventually biology overcame inertia and he went into the ‘fresher to relieve himself. When he was done, he washed his hands, looking at his ragged reflection in the mirror. Bloodshot, tired eyes stared back at him, on a face with fur that was in bad need of grooming. He flicked his ears back and snarled at his reflection. Worthless sot.

He sat in the cabin’s only chair, feeling his hands shake in Juno’s familiar first-stage post-dosage letdown. After that would be a couple of hours of lethargy, unless he took another dose soon. No, the last he wanted to do was drift off to sleep right now. It would mean running the risk of dreaming.

He reached over and grabbed his kit bag off the bed, running claw bottom seam, tearing it open. Five ampoules of Juno dropped into his lap from where they had been hidden. He cut through the seam on the opposite side and another five dropped, the remnants of his stash, kept there for just such an emergency. He scooped them up with both hands and set them down on the cabin’s small desk. He’d have to re-use one of the injectors that his brother had thrown into the garbage, but that wasn’t such a risk. It wasn’t as if he had to worry about giving himself a nasty disease.

Obsessively, he set each ampoule upright, in a neat little line. His hands were shaking so bad that he had to do it three times before they all stood properly. Ten little ampoules. Ten little slices of Heaven, however temporary the stay. One would steady out his nerves, focus his vision until all distractions were stripped away except for the target in his ship’s sights. Two at once would send him in a pleasant sleep for the night, banishing the demons that waited in the back of his mind.

And if he took three, perhaps four or five, what would happen then? How many could he inject into his veins before his system collapsed, his brain shut down, his heart and lungs stopped, overwhelmed by the drug’s calming power? All of them, if I’m quick enough. A fitting end for someone like himself, worn down, tired, empty, alone. Oh, Great and Holy Den Mother, show me someone more wretched than I, he thought wearily.

You know of three, a gentle vixen’s voice spoke in the back of his mind. Leeza Blake, Terinu and your brother.

Yes. So his mind was going mad even quicker than he thought, for him to start hearing holy voices. It was enough to make him laugh, a short bark. Welcome, Great Lady, he greeted mockingly, you’ve been gone from my life for some time.

I have never left your life, Ru-Ofanius. You merely chose not to hear me.

As you wish. Are you here to conduct me to my place beside the fire in your den? May I finally take my leave of this world and find some peace?

If you wish. All of my children are welcome there, if they have conducted their lives with honor, honesty and charity.

He sighed. Ah, then there is no place there for the likes of me, the dishonored, lying thief. I shall wander through the snow then, in moonless darkness, cold, alone.

Do you imagine you are without honor?

I let fear rule me during that raid, as I let fear rule my actions when I ran from the Blue Horizon. For that crime, my brother is now the captive of a cruel warder, along with his friends, and will not survive long

You made a mistake.

My need for my drug overwhelmed me and I bent to its will. I am weak.

Yes. This truth, spoken so plainly, burned.

Then what is left for me?

Your mother, she said.

He shook his head. I have dishonored myself before her. Begged for money, spending it on drugs and drink, leaving our House poorer for my indulgences.

Bethany.

Better I be dead, than her see me like this. She imagines me a hero, when all I am is a waste.

The Den Mother’s voice took a sharp tone. Do you imagine her love for you is lessened, for all the pain your absence has given her? Would you throw away her gift of love, by letting your life slip away? Would you make the pain in her heart for you a stone, bound to her soul, to carry the rest of her days?

“What would you have me do then!” he shouted out to the empty room.

Rescue your brother.

“I tried that already. I failed.” As I have failed at everything.

If you and he still live, you have not failed. You merely have not succeeded yet.

“And if he dies?”

Then you wil have tried and failed, but at least you will have tried. Have you lived in your drunken world so long that you have forgotten the most basic of my teachings? The only true sin is to see one in need, and not try to help them. Failure may always be forgiven, to do nothing at all is damnation.

“But Milady, have you not seen... I am already damned,” he said aloud, then laughed once, high pitched, near hysterical, before before he clamped his hands over his muzzle for fear of retribution from whomever might be passing in the corridor.

Those you abandoned sit by my fire. Did you not hear your brother's words? Had you stayed to defend them, you would be with them now.

“You contradict yourself, Holy Den Mother,” he said. “How can you forgive a coward?”

The same way I forgive a drunk and addict, by giving them a chance at redemption. Do not spurn my mercy so readily, Ru-Ofanius.

“My brother gave me the same opportunity. It was a mistake.”

It was not. And she said no more.

He sat there for along while, unmoving, staring down at the neat little line of Heaven and death in front of him, unsure if they were real, or merely figments of his vision, as the Holy Den Mother had surely been a figment of his hearing.

“Redemption,” he said softly, then added, “and perhaps Justice, if you would, Great Mother Goddess?” But she did not reply to that.

His hand reached over to the enunciator panel and pressed down. “Brushtail to Captain Blake,” he said.

A male voice answered, the ship's XO, answered. “Captain Blake has instructed the system to refuse your comm calls, Viscount Brushtail.”

“Get her on, anyway,” he said. “I have a proposition for her, to help the next rescue attempt.”

The XO's reply was frosty. “I seriously doubt she wishes any more of your help, Viscount.”

He smiled, feeling as if he would float up to the ceiling. “How about a willing sacrifice?”

* * *

Terinu threw himself foward, yanked short by the wrist and leg cuffs pinning him spreadeagle to the cell wall. He fell back and slammed his head against the bulkhead, trying to snap the inhibitor collar locked to his head.

He was starting to frelling hate these wierd universes they kept dropping into, where people traveled through circular Stargates, and others where there weren't any aliens at all, just humans and some genetics mods like the Quaddies. But those were simple to deal with compared to the one he was in now, and the tormentor he faced.

"Listen t' me!" he shouted at his captor. "Y' gotta let me go! Y' gotta help the others! Matt, Leeza, Rufus... Chan's gonna kill 'em!"

"So what's that t' me, Twin?" his mirror answered. The other Ferin boy looked back at him with Terinu's own face, arms crossed, leaning against the opposite wall. His hair was shaved short, the better to show off the three gold rings hanging off his right ear. He wore black fighting leathers, and over one hip was slung Terinu's own sword, and the other a wicked looking plasma gun. "Why would I want t' screw with my boss?"

"You'd let her kill Matt?"

"Hey, she let me kill Brooks. Not that the stinkin' bastard didn't deserve it." His mirror smirked. "Matt was always to much of a wimp to make it worth hangin' around him, anyway."

"Y' think Chan is yer buddy? She'll run you through the second she thinks yer not worth her time!"

"Maybe," his other self allowed, and then his grin sharpened. "Which is why I'd better stay on her good side. So I think I'll just leave y' where you are, Twin."

Terinu's fingers wrapped around the chains of his cuffs, pulling them tight in frustration. He had only one card left. "Listen to me," he said carefully. "You let those three die, y' think y' can just walk away? What are y' gonna say to Melika about it, if y' see her again? What would Melika think of y', if she ever found out what you are?"

His mirror frowned, looking confused for a moment. "Who's Melika?"

* * *

”Townsend!” the voice called behind Matt, with enough of growl that he didn’t recognize it immediately. He turned around and froze.

“Oh, hello,” he said carefully, setting the down the box he’d been carrying. More parts to help bring the other Lady Mavra’s Celestial Marauder back online, which the other Assistant Engineer Frani had asked for. Though this one didn’t seem to have the permanent case of mange and sinus infection of the one Matt knew. “Can I help you, ah, sir?” It seemed, given the annoyed expression on this Terinu’s face, not to mention the gun at his hip, and the weird piercings on his tail, a safe assumption to call him “sir.”

The other Terinu backed Matt up to the wall, his tail lashing. “Answer a question for me, who the fragg is Melika?”

Matt blinked. “Hu? Oh, Melika. Terinu, my Terinu, used to talk about her a lot. She was his mom, sorta, while he was growing up at the cabaret. Took care of him and everything. Vulpine lady. He said she sang really nice.”

“Grew up? How long was he there?” Terinu demanded.

“I don’t know exactly. Three, four years, maybe. He was seven when I met him, I was already on the Marauder when he came aboard.”

Terinu ran his finger along one of the long braids hanging from his scalp, looking thoughtful. “My Matt was younger when we met. He still knew the ship better than I did though. Kept me fed, kept me alive.”

“Yeah, I did the same thing for my Ter,” Matt agreed. Then he frowned. “Hey, how could you know about Melika? My Terinu only talked to me about h—“

The other Terinu’s tail slashed the air in front of Matt’s face. Literally slashed, as deadly looking razors popped out the implants in his tail. “You keep your mouth shut, Townsend. Ya got that?”

Matt’s eyes widened in surprise, but he didn’t back down. “You had to have heard about her from my Terinu! Where have you seen him?”

“None of yer business, Townsend,” the other Terinu hissed. “Now get your tail back t’ work, and pretend we never had this conversation. Because if I ever find out you blabbed about it to someone, I’ll cut yer throat out with my tail, got that?”

“F.A.B.” Matt said, ducking his head down and grabbing the box again. The other Terinu was still standing in the same spot when he dared glance backward, his eyes seeming to want to burn a hole in the bulkhead.

* * *

We need to talk, Mavra’s twin said over the comm, sounding irritable.

Mavra herself smiled, leaning back in her chair, propping her boots up on her desk. “I’m listening, but make it quick. I’m still inventorying the damage those intruders inflicted on my poor ship.”

Did you find out who they were?

“They were too well organized to have been from another pirate lord. I’m betting they were marines from those three GSA warships. I’m still in the process of interrogating that Vulpine we captured, though he’s being a bit stubborn.”

He’ll break, they always do. Would you like Brooks to come over and help with the questioning?

“No thank you,” Mavra demurred. “Brooks tended to be a bit too rough on the prisoners. Hard to get answers out of them with their jaws wired shut.”

Her sister didn’t laugh at the joke. There’s one more thing I’d like to discuss with you. I believe you have something that’s mine.

“Oh?” Mavra’s smile widened.

You’ve got one Mouse already. I’d like mine back.

“Now who told you that?”

It doesn’t matter how I found out. I want him back and I want him back now

“Not my fault you couldn’t hold onto him,” Mavra told her. “Besides, I like the idea of having a back up. Maybe if I can find a clever enough moddie doc, I can have a breeding pair.”

I don’t think you’re looking at this in the right way. I’m the one whose ship has a working weapons system.

Mavra didn’t let her annoyance enter her voice. “And I’m the one who has the pirate fleet in this universe. Which is on its way to provide orbital protection while my ship completes repairs. Don’t forget, you’re all alone here, Mouse or no, and I’m your only ally.”

The comm clicked off without another word.

* * *

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is our situation,” Captain Blake began, an hour later in the cruiser’s conference room. “In our two encounters with this pirate force we have been soundly repulsed. The loss of the Wilson and most of her crew was bad enough to swallow. With the additional casualties we suffered in our marine detachment during the ground assault, the situation had become untenable. At this time I do not believe it is possible for us to capture our target as instructed. Nor do we have the capability of retrieving the hostages that the pirates hold. We simply do not have enough ground pounders to assure success.”

The Suyahar’s officers, including both Lances, nodded grimly in agreement. Her own Lance, newly promoted to the command of the ship’s marine detachment upon the death of Major Talbot, looked particularly stern. “Are we going to retreat and regroup, Captain?” he asked.

“Partially,” she said. “We’ll be transferring the survivors from the Wilson over to the Namatjira and have them proceed to the nearest friendly port to receive advanced medical attention. Once they are clear of Bolt Hole’s system, we’ll move into the planet’s orbit finish the job.”

Her XO asked the obvious question, “But I thought you said we didn’t have the forces to successfully capture our target.”

“We don’t,” Blake replied. “Instead we’re going to load up five of our remaining missiles with neutron warheads and launch them at the spaceport, before either of the Marauders can launch again. We won’t be able to retrieve our target, but at least he won’t get away.”

Lance and Lance let out a simultaneous, “You can’t do that, Lee!”, and even her XO looked shocked.

Blake’s tone turned cool. “I beg your pardon, Lieutenants?”

“Captain, you can’t just nuke the Marauder, either of them!” her cousin’s twin exclaimed. “Rufus and Terinu are still prisoners. Hell, your own twin is down there!”

“I don’t believe you quite understand the importance of this mission, Lieutenant,” she said. “We can’t let this individual…”

“His name is Terinu,” Lance’s twin interrupted.

“…the target to get away. Period. Admiral Blake’s orders were very clear on that point.”

“Even so,” her Lance said, “don’t you think using nukes is a bit overboard, Captain? The spaceport is in the middle of a densely populated area. Civilian casualties are gonna be huge.”

“Bolt Hole is not part of the GSA, Lieutenant,” Blake told him. “It’s an independent world in a disputed territory and an open shelter for pirates. The latter point, arguably, makes it the enemy of the Alliance. We are under no obligation to observe the standard rules of war when addressing its population.”

“That’s a rather… fine legalistic point, Captain,” her XO said cautiously.

“Duly noted, First Officer,” Blake told him. Turning back to the Lances, she said, “As for you two, I will ignore your outbursts, but see that don’t happen again. Unless any of you have operational suggestions to make, you may consider yourselves dismissed.”

“There is one other matter, Captain,” her XO said, as she stood to leave. “Prior to this discussion, I received a request from Viscount Brushtail. He wishes to make a personal attempt to rescue Mavra Chan’s hostages on his own, without any support from the task force.”

“Denied,” she said frostily. “I’m not going to have him fall into Chan’s hands and start spilling vital operational information.”

“Well, technically, all he knows is what we told him about the last operation,” her Lance pointed out. “Actually, I think his counterpart knew a bit more, and he’s already her prisoner.”

“The request is still denied,’ she said. “You are dismissed, Lt. Freeman.”

Lance looked as if he wanted to say more, but kept his mouth closed except for a simple, “Aye, Captain.” He departed with his twin, neither of them looking happy.

“We launch in three hours, First Officer,” she said to her XO after they were gone.

“I’ll see to the loading of the warheads then, Captain,” he replied, bowing to her slightly. At her wave of dismissal he left, the door swishing quietly behind him, leaving her alone. Blake hadn’t expected any of them to happy about her decision to use nuclears. Even nearly six hundred years since Hiroshima and Nagasaki, it wasn’t something any human military officer considered lightly. But given what was at stake, they were necessary.

The alternative, failure at the task her father had given her, was unthinkable.

* * *

Out in the corridor Lance glanced at Lance, sure the same thought was running through both their brains. “We can’t let her do this,” he said.

“We’ve got our orders,” his brother answered.

“Oh, yeah, that’ll keep ye warm at night.”

His brother rolled his eyes. “You don’t know Leeza when she’s got her captain’s cap on. She’s not going to change her mind.”

“I didn’t say we had to change her mind, I said we had to stop her.”

“Mind telling me how? We gonna just waltz into the armoury and tell ‘em to put those warheads back? That’ll work real well.”

Lance banged his fist against the bulkhead. “Look, while your cousin is going to be sitting a nice comfy tactics room, mine is going to have a brace of nukes dropped down on her! We’ve got to do something!

His brother nodded, looking unhappy. “I’m not saying you’re wrong, I’m just wondering what we’re supposed to do.”

Lance considered for a moment. “Maybe… maybe if a small team could get through. We’ve taken on Chan before and won, with less than we’ve got now.”

“She’ll never authorize a ground mission, mate,” his brother pointed out.

“So we don’t ask.”

“I think they’ll notice if we try and borrow a shuttle.”

“How about if we use your Rufus’ fighter? He’s still a Vulpine lord. If he raises a big enough stink…”

“Lee will just clap him in restraints and chuck him into the brig,” his brother pointed out. “And her dad will back her when the Vulp Council of Lords screams about breaking the Treaty of Species.”

“But what if he slips out?”

“A fighter is still a bit hard to miss.”

Lance grinned. “Not if it leaves with the proper flight authorization.”

“Hack into the ship’s security system, you mean? Do I look like a cyber glider, mate?”

“If you’re as good at faking ID cards as I am, it shouldn’t be that hard.”

His brother frowned, then nodded. “One problem though,” he pointed out.

All the humor evaporated from Lance’s face. “Right,” he said. “Let’s see if he’s dried out yet.” Then headed down to the ship’s main housing deck, where a pair of walking wounded marines from the Wilson were standing guard outside the Vulpine’s quarters.

“I’m sorry, Lieutenant,” one of them said apologetically, “but the Vulp isn’t supposed to leave his quarters. Captain’s orders, sir.”

“He’s not leaving, we’re going in to have a little, ah, talk with him,” his brother told the marines, cracking his knuckles suggestively. The one marine raised his eyebrows, then smiled slightly and waved them inside without another word.

Stepping inside, they found Rufus pacing back and forth across the tiled deck of his cabin, looking irritated and hyper. “Ah,” he said as they entered, coming to a halt and turning to face them. “Did Captain Blake agree to see me?”

“Nope,” Lance’s brother said laconically, leaning up against the wall. Rufus eyed him with suspicion.

“If you’ve a mind to beat the fragg out of me over what happened planetside, I’d appreciate it if you’d get it over with. I’m not in the mood to waste time debating my obvious personality flaws,” the Vulpine said. He looked better than he had before, having cleaned and donned fresh clothes, and there was something in his face that seemed sharper, more focused. Of course there were plenty of drugs that could account for that at as well. Lance’s eyes glanced over to a line of ten drug ampoules lined up in a neat row on the cabin’s small table and he frowned.

“What have you been doing in here, Brushtail?” he asked.

Rufus grinned at him. “Having a religious experience. Not from that,” he said hastily, gesturing at the drugs on the table. “I haven’t had a dose since we were on Bolt Hole. Anyway, what did the Captain have to say?”

“She’s not letting you go,” Lance’s brother told him. “Lee has decided that the best solution to end this whole FUBARed operation was to nuke both of the pirates and our target out of existence.”

What?!” Rufus shouted, looking shocked. “Is she out of her Goddess given mind? She’ll kill my brother!”

“And my cousin,” Lance said. “Not to mention how ever many thousand civilians happen to be in the blast zone. The word “subtle” seems to have left her vocabulary.”

“I don’t think it was ever in there, mate,” Lance’s brother said wryly. “Anyway, neither of us are happy about it, but we aren’t in a position change her mind or make a rescue attempt ourselves. You’ve got a chance to get off the Suhayar and maybe do something though. The XO said you wanted to try for a rescue. You got a plan, mate?”

“Something of a plan,” Rufus admitted. “Though I will admit it didn’t go much beyond taking the White Knight and ramming into one of the Marauders’ engineering core, to eliminate at least half the threat.”

“No good,” Lance’s brother said. “It’ll kill you and one of the pirate ships, but that still leaves one of the Mavra Chans with the prisoners. Assuming you were lucky enough hit the ship that didn’t have them aboard.”

“True,” Rufus said. “I’m rather short on options however. My abilities as a commando are sadly lacking, you’ll note.”

“Listen,” Lance said, “if you can get that bloody inhibitor collar off of Terinu, that will solve half your commando problem right there. Once the kid gets his mad on, he’s pretty frelling hard to stop.”

“Marvelous,” Rufus said sourly. “I’m welcome to any suggestions as to how I’m supposed to get close to him.”

Lance looked down at the table with its line of little ampoules. “How much of one those things do you have to take, to get a realistic set of the shakes?”

* * *

There was more art than science to the trick of knowing when to show up in the CinC just before a major action, Blake reflected. Too late, and a ship’s captain might miss some vital detail that needed a last minute correction. Too early and you ended up looking over your subordinates’ shoulders while they’re trying to do their jobs. She usually ended up just staying in her office sorting through the ever accumulating paperwork until her XO called her. The Galen had an almost supernatural ability to suggest she walk up to the tactics room just before a crisis occurred that required her intervention.

Of course there were times, like now, when he could be a little off.

“Would you please repeat that?” she asked, after hearing his report.

“Lord Brushtail has launched his fighter and is returning to Vulpine Prime, Captain,” he said again.

“And what gave you the idea that he was permitted to launch his fighter, First Officer?” she asked sharply.

“I checked the security log,” he said. “You signed off on removing the security lock on his Sleek Wing over an hour ago. It’s in the ship’s records, Captain.”

With a snarl, Blake brought up the ship’s security log, a detailed listing of items from the major, such as what aspects of their mission the crew was permitted to discuss with civilians (practically nothing), to the minor, such as petty thefts that had been reported to the ship’s Internal Security department. There, under the heading of Flight Operations, was a notation with her initials and security code, lifting the flight restrictions on Brushtail’s fighter. A further check noted that the pair of guards at his door had also been recalled by her, at the same time as his fighter was released.

“The records have been altered illegally, First Officer,” she said. “I never gave any order that Brushtail be permitted to leave.”

“Why would anyone on board wish to alter the… Oh, dear,” the XO said, his voice trailing off in dismay.

“First Officer, have both Lieutenant Freemans brought to my office with an armed escort. Now!” she ordered. “And then inform the Ordinance officer that the missile launch schedule has been accelerated by one hour.”

“That isn’t going to leave much time for the proper arming check on the warheads, Cap—“

“Just do it,” Blake said. “I want the launch to proceed before Brushtail has a chance to spill our attack plan to Mavra Chan, either of them.”

“Yes, Captain.”

She took a deep breath. Things hadn’t gone completely south yet. There was still a chance to pull a success out of the ongoing disaster, if she was quick enough. The mission is not going fail. The mission can not fail, she thought. She had been charged for its success by the Admiral himself. She wasn’t about to give up now.

She couldn’t.

TBC
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