NOT PRAYING TO the three angels first?” Sabira secured herself into the co-pilot’s seat.
“—Huh? Oh, you’ve been talking religion with Lieutenant Djeli. I respect the lieutenant’s faith but definitely don’t share it.” Commander Tauro Arkrider strapped into the pilot’s seat beside her. “And I thought I told you to secure in the hold.”
“Don’t want to miss the view.”
Arkrider briefly looked like he was going to argue the point before figuring it wasn’t worth it. He focused instead on the myriad lights and controls in the cockpit.
“So you pray to different gods? Didn’t realize the Constellation had so many.”
“—Not exactly. My family raised me as a Capran Taoist. But I was always better with guns than meditation or math. Which was, uh, not very appreciated.”
“You don’t have a god of guns?”
“—Not on Nu’esef, that’s for certain. Firearms are prohibited there. Wouldn’t be surprised if there was a god of guns somewhere in the cluster. In the Republic maybe?”
A transmitted voice filled the cockpit telling them they were clear for launch. Through the vibrations in the shuttle, Sabira felt the airlock door closing between them and the hangar. In front of them, the outer hatch slid aside, revealing star-speckled black. Then her internal organs pressed into her spine as they shot into vacuum. A grunt escaped her lips.
“—Sorry,” the commander said. “No modulators on this little guy, and I’m better qualified for shooting than flying, to be honest. The Shishiguchi is a few klicks off. We’ll be there soon.”
The pressure of acceleration eased off Sabira’s rib cage. Breathing normally again, she watched the length of the Safehold’s broadside steadily recede in the rear monitors. Their idyllic green sanctuary would have been a small slice near the prow.
“Back there, you said sanctuary four. How many sanctuaries are in Safehold?”
“—Twenty-four.”
“How many other people are in those sanctuaries?”
“—Listen. Just because I broke protocol to escort you to a Muyama vessel does not mean I’m going to spill classified details en route.”
“But there are others?”
“—The Home Cluster’s a big place, Stargazer. You and your friends aren’t the only sensitive status individuals with no place to call home.”
She started another question but stopped short. She already knew the answer. If the Holy Unity and Godsfall had never attacked or hadn’t attacked as soon, it would have been a very long time before she was allowed to leave the Safehold—if ever.
In the distance, bursts of light and streaks of color flashed through black space.
“—Well,” Arkrider said, “if we don’t end up vaporized, I’m definitely getting demoted for this. Though I think that was probably inevitable.”
“I’m the last one to give a reprimand about disobeying orders,” Sabira said. “But why inevitable? Djeli and your squad obviously respect you.”
“—It’s not the marines in my command I’m talking about.”
“Because you’re third diaspora.”
“—For someone from the far side of the galaxy, you pick things up quickly.” He made a final adjustment to their trajectory and leaned back in the pilot’s seat. “As far as terceros go, I’m one of the highest ranks in the CDF. Not that commander is all that high in the chain of command. Some of my superiors think it’s good. Shows the CDF is integrating. Others, not so much. Then a big mess of trouble like you all shows up out of the middle of literally nowhere, and the tercero commander gets the assignment.”
“So if you handle us without incident, it makes the whole CDF look good. But if there’s a problem, your superiors have their opening to be rid of you.”
“—Military bureaucracy works the same where you come from?”
“Servants don’t get demoted. Either you conquer, you die trying, or they pry your ribcage open and cut your heart out.”
Arkrider furrowed his brow. “—You’re serious, aren’t you?”
Sabira only stared at the monitors and the nearing bronze curves of the Shishiguchi. The commander said something her little bird didn’t interpret.
“What was that?” she asked.
“—A curse in Spen, my mother tongue. Loses something in translation.” A series of beeps and blinking lights raced across the control panels. “Adept Hanada has the shuttle. Should be steady going to the rendezvous. Prepare for deceleration.”
The shuttle flipped on its axis so its nose pointed back the way they’d come. A firm, steady weight pressed Sabira’s back. From the cockpit, they watched the Safehold recede into a little more than a long white line, backlit by the blood-red glow of the nebula and eccentric flashes of Godsfall laying waste to Constellation and Republic forces. Another wave of CDF ships came out of slicing void and spewed a torrent of destructive light and explosive color into the battle.
Their approach vector to the Shishiguchi’s shuttle bay brought them past its broad, squarish nose and bestial mouth. The battle cast wild hues racing along the metallic sheen of its hull.
The interior of the Shishiguchi’s shuttle bay slid into view from behind, collapsing the wide panorama into a rectangular frame outlined in bluish running lights. The outer hatch slid shut. Soon after a beep indicated the airlock was pressurized. The inner door opened and the shuttle backed into the hangar. The smart-matter walls remained in the shape of dense trees and foliage, giving the illusion that they had slipped from deep space into a forest clearing.
“—Back where we first met.” Arkrider popped the restraints on the pilot’s seat.
“If you had listened to me then, Godsfall wouldn’t be here now. And a lot fewer people would be dead.”
“—Would you have done anything differently if you were in my position?”
Sabira chewed the inside of her cheek and popped her restraints.
Orion-lem met them outside the shuttle’s airlock. His spiky hair, eyes, and the circled flower emblazoned across his torso were all sapphire blue. The rest of his forma body was tuned a metallic blue-gray slate.
“—Permission to come aboard, Adept?” Commander Arkrider requested.
“Permission granted.” Orion-lem turned and led them out of the hangar and through the reed-paneled corridors. “I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting to receive your signal, Commander.”
“—What an honor. I surprised an Adept.”
“Surprise is pushing it.” Orion gave him a lopsided grin. “I ran a few sims where you came along, but compared to other scenarios, you being in the shuttle was much less likely than one of the Emissaries.”
“—I need intel on this Godsfall weapon. Since Stargazer was reluctant to share what she knew, figured I’d take a look for myself.”
Of the three reasons he’d given as to why he helped her, Sabira believed that one the most.
“See me,” she said. “Truth is, what I saw inside Godsfall wouldn’t be much help. Crystal walls. Floating pyramids and orbs of aku-vayk. Harsh yellow light that submerged me into some kind of liquid crystal with Orion’s blood-father. Then I woke up outside.”
“—Huh.”
Arkrider requested Orion send the shuttle back to the Safehold, where it was needed for the evacuation. Then they stepped inside a lift to take them to the upper decks.
“Once we get to the battle, everything’s going to happen fast,” Orion said.
Sabira said she needed to stop by her cabin first. Orion would meet them at the observation deck. The lift stopped, and she and Tauro stepped into another reed-paneled corridor. The signature background thrum of the ship’s systems was so familiar, she almost didn’t register it. When she had returned from Loshan Bastion, the Shishiguchi had felt foreign, alienating. But after a week in the soft green circle of the Safehold’s sanctuary, it felt like coming home. The cabin she had shared with Torque looked exactly the way she’d left it. Not that either of them had much to leave behind.
She pulled her weapons drawer open. The palukai and ritual nihkazza blade were still there, tucked securely in black foam. The divot for her yarist gem sat empty. That’s right, she had dropped it in the heart cavity of Godsfall. Was it there still, or had Daggeira taken it for herself?
Commander Arkrider remained outside the cabin’s door. He nodded approvingly at the long dagger but furrowed his brow at the palukai.
“—You’re bringing a stick?”
“It’s a good stick.”
She led the way back to the lifts and one level down to the observation deck. Orion met them near the door and gestured for them to enter.
“Get secured. Tight and crunchy. Going to be a glitchy ride,” he said.
From floor to ceiling, half the room displayed a zoomed-in view of the scene they had watched from the shuttle. A new Republic battleship, sharp and gleaming like the cruiser, but much larger, came out of slicing void and unleashed waves of tactical gunships.
Two smart-foam couches faced the display wall, awash in the afterglow of detonations and energy weapons. Sabira stashed her blade and stick into the outside of the couch, the foam curling around them securely, before strapping herself in.
“—The Slavers haven’t advanced?” Arkrider asked, strapping into the couch beside her.
Orion-lem took up a position in the corner of the deck. His feet merged into the floor. “Not yet. Still right outside the stochastic horizon. Which makes things extra glitchy. They seem content to wait for us to come to them.”
“Let’s not keep them waiting any longer,” Sabira said. Absent-mindedly, she tried to rub at her scarred breast and was stopped by the armor. Her gauntleted fingers traced over the horns instead.
The monitor instantly transitioned to the oil slick colors of a slicer field. A heartbeat later the colors disintegrated, revealing a vast, glittering expanse of broken warships and frozen bodies. Looming over the debris fields stood the titanic Godsfall, the obliteration angel. Fiery auroras wreathed its four great wings as stuttering laser and missile barrages detonated impotently against its energy shields. Beyond it, the angry red nebula of the Shattered Gates presided in silent vigil over the carnage.