The knock was soft, but insistent. Tamiyo blinked, dragging her eyes from the tablet she had been reading. Streaks of light shone on the opposite wall. The rooms here didn’t breathe the way stone did. They hummed. Sleek and modular, everything aboard The Resolute Wind felt like it had been machined into perfection. No ivy. No woodgrain. Just sharp lines, silent doors, recycled air.

  She stood and crossed the narrow bunk room, tugging the panel aside. The handsome d’moria woman from Berilinsk with two red braids over her shoulders stood before her, faint traces of grease on her cheeks. “They’ve scheduled a briefing,” she said. Her voice was blunt but not unkind. “Ops wants the team assembled ASAP.”

  Tamiyo nodded. “Thanks Brana.”

  She dropped her tablet on the small table beside her bed, then hurried down the hall, falling in to walk beside Brana. The d’moria’s second braid swung loosely as she walked, Tamiyo had learned that meant she was in a good mood.

  It had been seven standard days since the aurora had followed funeral fires in Berilinsk. The transition from grieving village to interstellar military base hadn’t felt abrupt. Just precise.

  A small shuttle had landed in Berilinsk to relay word from The Resolute Wind, and the team had all hopped into her freighter to depart Nox. When they finished docking, the starboard hatch of her small ship had slid open to reveal the man in charge of the entire Liberty Union vessel, Admiral Thane Marrow. When Aurania said Riza had a hell of a lot of pull, she wasn’t kidding. The admiral had looked almost starstruck greeting Riza and the two conversed like old friends as the team filed out of the freighter.

  They had all gathered in a modest briefing room just outside the hangar to make sure everyone was aware of the terms of the arrangement. The Liberty Union had agreed to offer support finding a way to stabilize Nox, but it was something that would take time, as the only known source of such technology lay deep in Conservatory space. So while they searched, Aurania’s team would act as supplemental support aiding various Liberty Union missions. They had been granted a modest cluster of real estate aboard The Resolute Wind, and were welcome in almost all of the common areas as well. Most military duty areas were off limits except for sanctioned training areas, fitness rooms, and firing ranges, as well as their own spot in one of the hangars.

  The elevator shook as the brakes locked in place, and Tamiyo followed Brana out. They walked along a windowed hallway overlooking the hangar where her stolen freighter-turned-shuttle sat on hydraulic braces. Brana was an excellent mechanic, Aurania had picked her for the mission after they decided to bring Tamiyo’s ship. Raine was acting as a sort of universal logistical support for whatever the team needed, assisted by Brolgar. He was decent with a wrench as well, but his true specialty was in the kitchen. While The Resolute Wind had plenty of places to eat, Aurania had tasked Brolgar with ensuring strict observation of everyone’s nutrition. She was a disciplined and efficient military leader, Tamiyo had learned.

  “Damn Brana, you’d never guess it’s the same ship,” Tamiyo said, stopping and looking through the window. The hull was gleaming with a fresh coat of matte sealant, the exterior had been layered in an extra layer of armor plate, and the entire interior had been redesigned. Gone was the kitchenette, the beds, the slightly bent table, anything that could be removed to make space for gear and seating. Its purpose now was to transport them quickly and safely to and from missions.

  Brana laughed a little. “Thanks, I just got done painting the new name on the hull. Hopefully everything is dry by the time you need to head out.”

  The team had recently been relaxing in their common room when Brana and Brolgar had mentioned that the retrofit was almost complete. It didn’t take long for the renaming to come up.

  “Okay, but we can’t just be dropping into missions without giving it a fitting name,” Amalia had said. “It’s too much of a mouthful to yell out ‘everyone back to the Tamiyo’s stolen Conservatory freighter!’”

  Two rounds of drinks, a heated argument over music, and several platters of Brolgar’s spicy snack wraps later, all twelve team members sat throwing names around trying to find one that fit their new shuttle.

  “It still smells like coolant and mold,” Brolgar said.

  “That’s part of the charm!” Brana said defensively.

  “We should name it something that gives people hope,” Violet chimed in.

  “Yeah!” Amalia piled on. “Nothing depressing! C’mon, every crew needs a ship with a dramatic name. What about… The Last Arc?”

  Tamiyo grimaced, “Eh, no. Reminds me of Conservatory religion.”

  “Cinderwake?” Veolo asked.

  “Sounds like a plague,” Aurania shot back.

  “I vote Secondhand Sky,” Elias said in a deadpan voice. “Because it barely runs.”

  “Screw you!” Brana said. “I just got done fixing it up, it runs better than a lazarco fucks.”

  Raine was reclined comfortably on Inelius’ lap. She grinned and said, “Must run pretty damn good.”

  They all laughed.

  A dozen more names were yelled out: The Lantern, Starhold, Noxlight, all of them shot down.

  Then Raine dramatically said, “The Cradle… of Gravity.”

  Everyone went quiet for a moment.

  Then Veolo said, “Sounds like a cheesy sci-fi romance.”

  “I’d read it,” Riza shrugged.

  “The Ember,” Brolgar suggested.

  “That’s… not bad,” Tamiyo said quietly.

  “Serenity,” Soren tried.

  Aurania shot him down, “There’s nothing serene about you, you shiny asshole.”

  “Well fine then!” Soren shot back. “What about The Shadow?”

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  “No,” Riza said flatly.

  “What about Voidreach?” Inelius said.

  “Sounds like a horror story,” Violet told him.

  “What, you got something better?” Inelius asked. “Tamiyo literally pulled a man out of the void.”

  “Did she though?” Aurania said with some sarcasm. “I think she might have pulled a ghost out instead of a man.”

  Amalia snapped her fingers. “The Ghost of Mandachor!”

  The room collectively raised their eyebrows. Elias let out a whistle.

  “Sounds like we have a winner,” Tamiyo said with a smile.

  That had been two nights ago. Since then, the Ghost of Mandachor had passed every systems check Brana could throw at it. The name had stuck harder than anyone expected.

  Now, it sat gleaming in the hangar below, waiting.

  Tamiyo turned and continued walking, she didn’t want to be late for the briefing.

  This was the first time they had been called for an actual mission. The Resolute Wind was assigned to duties at the edges of Liberty Union territories, and interstellar traversal between systems took an average of 2-3 days each. As she understood it, the ship had to specifically deviate course to come pick them up since Nox was an independent planet, so in the time it took to return to the area of operation, they had trained.

  Most of their time had been spent in drills. Loadouts, formations, breach-and-clear exercises. The lacravida all knew how to fight together. But Soren and Inelius had to be implemented into the unit movement, taught their strategies, and evaluated. Luckily, each of them had their own respective prior training, so they adapted quick enough. That didn’t seem to make Aurania trust Soren any more though.

  Brana turned and split off from her, returning to the hangar to continue her work. Tamiyo went straight, and entered another elevator to head down to the briefing room.

  The Resolute Wind was larger than anything Tamiyo had ever set foot on. A self-contained city burning through the vacuum, its corridors never seemed to end. While it had been furnished and decorated for slight comfort due to people spending so much time aboard, the military aesthetic had a way of unsettling her. Too sterile white in some places, too tidy for the sake of tidiness, sometimes it smelled so clean it was an immediate indicator the smell was hiding something.

  The elevator stopped to pick up several other military personnel she vaguely recognized from the past few days. They had all been cordial in passing, but there hadn’t been much reason to strike up a conversation on either side.

  According to a datasheet she’d skimmed the other day during a meal, the maximum capacity of the vessel was 28,000, but its regular operational capacity was around 19,000. She had no way of knowing how many were actually currently aboard.

  They reached her floor and she exited the elevator. The other personnel aboard offered some simple words as she departed, but they felt genuinely warm. It was a strange contrast for her, as the military atmosphere reminded her of the authoritarianism of the Conservatory, but everyone here was far nicer.

  She opened the door to the briefing room and stepped inside. Looking around, she realized she was the last of their mission team to arrive, but they apparently were still waiting for the LU Briefing Officer.

  Inelius sat with his forearms braced on the edge of the table, studying a tactical tablet. He didn’t look up as Tamiyo entered, but she had a feeling he knew she was there. Elias sat beside him, legs crossed, swiping idly through a diagnostic report that she suspected he’d already read twice. His body was relaxed, but he was also fidgeting a little like he had grown tired of waiting.

  Soren was across the room, seated on the edge of a chair that looked slightly too small for his frame. He wasn’t fidgeting or shifting, just quietly watching the door. What caught Tamiyo’s attention wasn’t his posture, though. It was the absence of his translator tablet. She hadn’t seen him actually use it in the past couple days, but this was the first time she’d seen him without it at all.

  Across the room from him, Aurania stood leaning against the wall with arms crossed. Her expression was unreadable. Riza sat in a dark corner, able to see everything in the room. She had received much more of people’s attention than she normally liked to since coming aboard, and Tamiyo noticed how she withdrew a bit whenever she got the chance.

  Amalia had dragged three human-sized chairs together and was sitting on two of them with her left leg resting on the third. She was bouncing a small blue ball the size of her fist off the floor and wall repeatedly.

  Violet was standing with Veolo, the two were discussing something casually, but it was too quiet for Tamiyo to tell what. Violet offered Tamiyo a simple wave and smile when she spotted her, friendly, but not overly warm. Her mind was likely focused on the mission.

  All of the lacravida were wearing barely more clothing than they had on Nox. They weren’t the only lacravida aboard the ship but, being somewhat of guests, they weren’t strictly required to adhere to military dress code. The most Aurania had ordered about the matter was to make sure that none of their robes were see-through, and to at least try to layer up a little, but she herself stood waiting for the briefing in barely more than Tamiyo had seen her in at any other time. More than once Tamiyo had noticed passing LU personnel linger a little too long when passing in the corridors, eyes flicking wide before snapping back forward. She got the feeling one of these days it would result in some sort of noteworthy event, but there was no telling if it would be good or bad.

  Tamiyo walked over near Soren and a few moments later, the door she had entered through opened once more. A man walked in wearing the standard Liberty Union military uniform. He was a shorn, Tamiyo had seen several of them around the ship, although they hadn’t been super common. Out of the corner of her vision, she saw Soren shift just slightly. He had at least seen a couple shorn since coming aboard, but she didn’t know if he’d actually spoken to any. If not, this man would be the first since Soren had fought Klix in the jungle.

  Tamiyo stood slightly straighter, instinctively defensive for her friend.

  “Hello everyone,” the shorn said after he entered. “My name is Commander Garrin, I’m sure I’ll get to know each of you more as time goes on.” He paused and looked to their leader. “Good to see you Aurania.”

  She nodded to him, silent, but not unfriendly.

  The Commander stepped to the podium at the front of the room and inserted a tablet into it. A holodisplay flickered into being behind him, and he stepped aside to reveal a clustered display of asteroids, the surfaces scarred with extraction veins and scaffolded landing grids.

  “We’re en route to a mining colony known as Orryx Station,” Garrin said. His tone was even, practiced, the cadence of someone used to being obeyed. “The station is privately contracted but lies within Liberty Union jurisdiction. A partial distress call was sent out several days ago to one of our officers already deployed in a nearby vanguard unit.”

  The image zoomed in on one of the larger asteroids with a complex of buildings built into it.

  “They requested authorization to investigate and, as soon as they docked, their ship was fired upon by an enemy vessel. They returned fire and at last report, the enemy vessel was incapacitated as well. Our vanguard team managed to board Orryx station but…” he looked around the room. “We lost contact forty-seven hours ago.”

  He let that sink in. The room was quiet.

  “Rather than risk more of our own people,” he continued, “we figured this was the perfect time to see what your team can do. Assess the situation, recover any survivors, and neutralize threats if encountered.”

  He looked at them again. “Any questions?”

  After a moment, Inelius spoke up. “Do we have interior schematics of the station? Entry points, possible fallback locations where the vanguard team may be? Environmental hazards?”

  Garrin nodded, tapping his tablet. “Partial layouts. Being a mining station, the structure has a tendency to evolve as they excavate. The maps should be enough to give you a baseline, just don’t rely on them 100%. We’ll upload what we have to your dropship interface.”

  Riza’s voice cut in, low and even. “Any reason to believe the enemy vessel had allies nearby?”

  The commander almost snapped to attention when she spoke. The hold Riza had on their minds was fascinating to Tamiyo.

  “N-no ma’am,” the commander stuttered out. “No further ships on long-range scans. But in a system like this, that doesn’t mean much.” He looked like he might start sweating.

  Then Soren spoke. “If we find no surviving friendlies? What’s the protocol?”

  Aurania answered for the commander. “Extraction of the bodies,” her voice had a chill to it. “Then extermination.”

  No one else seemed to have any other questions.

  The map dissolved, and Garrin looked at each of them in turn, then nodded to Aurania.

  “Gear up!” she ordered, loud and hard. “We arrive in just under two hours.”

  Where in the world is Carmen Sandiego did Soren and his team go?

  - Earth to Mandachor: ~8 hexes = ~35 light-years

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