Marissa watched the stars wheel by her window, wondering where out there Arc might be. When it had just been the map, it had felt like he was almost within reach, but from here Marissa could see the vast expanse of space spread out before her, and reality hit hard. What had been a tiny point on a map could in truth be light years across. She might grow old searching and still turn up nothing. There were ways of charting out large portions of space via sensors, but would that be enough? What if Arc had moved since the map had been sent?
Aegis was out of sight behind the ship, but Marissa could almost feel the growing distance between them. They’d cleared the jam of ships that typically hovered in the planet’s general vicinity, and they were now alone and free to go wherever they pleased. The red dot of the neighbouring gas giant swung into view briefly before hurtling out of sight and leaving Marissa without an anchor to guess at their position.
She did not like space. It was too big, too empty, too easy to get lost in. Ship-makers often bragged about the durability of hulls, but it was still only a single barrier between the passengers and the death waiting outside. She could count the times she’d been on ships on one hand; one when pirates had killed her mother and kidnapped her; the second time was her voyage aboard the Rhapsody; the last two had been the beginning and end of a reluctant vacation to a rainforest on a distant world, where she and Arc had walked the beaten paths and tried to distinguish the fruits from the animals hanging beneath the canopies. This was her fifth flight on a star ship, and it was no easier than the first. When this was finished, she’d like to land on the nearest planet and spend a long time with her feet planted on the ground and breathing in real oxygen.
A glimmer of gold caught her eye, like a shooting star. No, that wasn’t right; she caught the brief impression of a strange, oval-shaped ship, but then she blinked and it was gone. Marissa rubbed her eyes, checked again; it was still gone. She let out a heavy sigh. She was worrying too hard—seeing things.
She pulled the shutter down over the window and went back to unpacking her things. Cassandra had said the room was hers for the duration of the voyage, so she might as well make it feel like home. She put her clothes in a small chest of drawers under the desk, then laid out her personal computer and the tablet on top. She left her armour in the gym bag, but gave it some room by removing the bundles of socks she’d packed it down with before pushing it under the bed. She reassembled her spear, spinning the head atop the haft until the mechanisms clicked into place and secured it. At full length, it almost touched the ceiling, and she had to perform some unusual manoeuvres to turn it on its side without scraping the walls. She left it in the corner by her bed, so that it was within reach if needed.
Her phone chimed and Marissa rushed to answer. The ship was pretty far out from Aegis to receive normal phone calls from the planet, so the caller must be onboard.
“It’s Cassandra.” She didn’t even wait for a hello, just started talking. “We’re in position to go into hyperspace at my command, but I need to talk strategy with the merc commanders before we go. Could you bring the map down to the cafeteria?”
Marissa beamed; Coach had taught her all about talking strategy. “No problem, I’ll be there in a few.”
She was so eager to get down there that she almost forgot to grab the tablet on the way out. She held it against her hammering heart as she walked to the cafeteria. The corridor was well marked with directions on the wall, guiding her way so that she reached her destination in less than two minutes.
The cafeteria looked like it might hold the entire crew at once, if some didn’t mind sitting in others’ laps. There were four long tables with benches, along with a counter standing between this room and the kitchen. Cassandra sat at the nearest table, across from a man and woman in Inferno uniforms. The woman had close-cropped blonde hair, while the man was shaved bald. Neither looked conventionally friendly, with hard eyes and expressionless features.
Marissa threw herself into the fray and approached the table. “Hey there!”
The woman turned a heavy glare at her, not speaking a word. A tiny smile formed at the corners of the man’s mouth, and his look softened. Cassandra looked bemused.
“Ms. Rhapsody, this is Commander Fredrichs and Lieutenant-Commander Barnes, the heads of Inferno Company,” Cassandra said.
The woman, Fredrichs, gave a curt nod, clearly unamused by the intrusion. She had the sort of face that suggested she was often unamused.
Barnes gave his own nod, throwing in a, “Pleased to meet you.”
“Do you have the tablet?” Cassandra asked.
“Right here.” Marissa set it on the table.
Cassandra took it up and began to fiddle with the map. “Good. Thank you.”
Marissa remained standing, waiting for what Cassandra had to say next. She could at least invite her to sit down. After a long silence from all parties, Marissa cleared her throat.
Cassandra looked up, seeming surprised to see her there. “Did you want something?”
“I thought we were going to talk strategy,” said Marissa, staying cheery.
Cassandra furrowed her scaly brow. “Yes, the commanders and I. You’re free to go.”
Marissa wanted to believe she’d misheard or misunderstood, but the look Cassandra was giving her had an almost physical force behind it, pushing her to leave. Not a chance. “Don’t I get a say in this?”
“In our operations? No!” Cassandra replied, more incredulous than was strictly necessary.
Marissa folded her arms. “Why not?”
“Because you’re a passenger on this ship, not a participant,” Cassandra answered. “I wouldn’t have brought you onboard if Papos hadn’t insisted. This mission could be incredibly dangerous—leave the planning to the experienced soldiers. Now, why don’t you go back to your room, maybe have a rest, and let us work on finding your husband?”
Marissa had tried to be patient, but the Zulkar’s dismissive tone frayed her last nerve. She slammed her hand down hard on the table, the metal legs groaning from the force. Any harder and she might have broken it. Cassandra and the others stared at her in wild-eyed surprise.
“Don’t you ever treat me like some hysterical housewife!” She snapped. “I lived the same life as Arc, and I am every bit as tough as he is!” She let herself breathe, and saw Cassandra’s shocked expression. “Sorry, I get carried away sometimes. Now then, listen—I brought you that map. Without me, this voyage wouldn’t be happening, so there’s no way in hell I’m going to sit on the sidelines and let you do all the work.”
Silence fell over the room, as if everyone was waiting for someone else to speak. The man called Barnes broke the long pause, clearing his throat to grab their attention. “Well, I’m convinced,” he said, scratching behind his ear. “I say let her stay, Cass. How about you, Donna?”
Fredrichs’ face remained hard, but she shrugged half-heartedly. “If she has ideas, she can share them. Doesn’t mean I’ll listen, but I don’t see the harm of another opinion.”
Barnes grinned like a boy up to mischief. “That’s two to one. How about we make this unanimous, Cass?”
Cassandra clicked her claws together irritably. “Fine, sit. Just know that as captain, I have the last word on every decision. Understand?”
“Got it,” said Marissa, smiling triumphantly. She took the seat beside the captain, more out of necessity than choice.
Cassandra pushed the tablet across the table towards the mercs. “Our target is located not too far out of Aquila territory, only a few jumps from Croish.”
“Doesn’t make sense,” Fredrichs grunted. “Why stay so close and risk discovery? If they were retreating, they should have gone much farther out.”
“Maybe they’re planning to return,” Barnes suggested. “They could be preparing for another raid, or are hoping to ransom Rhapsody and the other diplomats off.”
Cassandra shook her head, the metal bands around her neck clinking together from the motion. “That’s assuming these are just regular pirates, which I don’t buy. Croish isn’t an undefended backwater or frontier colony—it’s one of the Alliance’s biggest population centres. The Consortium is a common meeting place for the leaders of the Aquila tribes. These assailants slipped by every defence the Aquila had, and no one noticed until they’d been and gone. These are Imperials, I’m sure.”
“I, um, I agree,” said Marissa, desperate to contribute. It was one thing to say she wanted to sit at the table, but she felt out of place now that they’d gotten down to talking. She’d said the first thing that came into her head, and now she felt like an idiot.
Barnes raised a bushy eyebrow that was in severe contrast with his bald head. “Oh, what makes you say that?”
He was asking her, not Cassandra, and she experienced a panicked moment as she scrambled her brain trying to think of an answer that wouldn’t make her sound even stupider. “Well, um, I don’t know much about Aquila soldiers, but there were what, ten Kinship guards there? Those guys are, uh, really well trained, so they should’ve been able to take out at least some of the pirates, right?”
Fredrichs refused to meet the eye of anyone in the room, but she had a way of directing her voice so it was clear who she was talking to. “Funny—during my tour of service, I found my training often left me woefully unprepared for my job.”
“I’m, uh, sorry to hear that,” said Marissa, thinking quickly. “Oh, yeah, but they had a Rashani there as well! I’ve heard plenty of stories of lone Rashani taking on whole crews of pirates, so how do you explain that?”
Barnes shrugged. “Stories, of course. But you’re right that these guys, whoever they are, shouldn’t be fucked with lightly. Unfortunately, we’re equipped to deal with garden-variety pirates, not the imperial military. If we run into a fleet of Eclipse-class battleships, we may have to turn around and rethink this whole thing.”
“We’ll manage,” Marissa insisted, very much aware that she had no way of knowing that.
Barnes actually smiled. “It’s rare to be working with an optimist—refreshing.”
“How are we getting there?” Fredrichs asked impatiently.
Cassandra traced a digit across the tablet’s screen, moving out of the circle of Kinship territory into the black starscape beyond. “They’ve tightened security around the borders between the Kinship and the Alliance since the attack. You couldn’t get a tour flight through them, let alone a ship full of mercs. So, I’m happy to volunteer my knowledge of navigating no man’s space so that we can fly around all that. We’ll cross out of the Kinship through here and loop back around towards Alliance space. We might even catch our kidnappers by surprise.”
Fredrichs frowned, which was not so different from her normal expression. “That puts us at risk of actual pirate attacks. They infest unpopulated areas like vermin.”
Cassandra looked unconcerned. “I’ve taken your troops through these areas plenty of times before, Commander—I know the safe routes. If everything goes smoothly, we should be at our destination in a week or two.”
“Plenty of time to get the gear set up,” said Barnes. “Anything else we should know?”
“Not at the moment.” Cassandra turned her narrowing eyes in Marissa’s direction. “Did you have anything to add, Ms. Rhapsody?”
The question startled Marissa, even though it shouldn’t have. “No—it all sounds good. I just wanted to be in the loop.”
“Then we can bring this meeting to an end,” said Cassandra. “We enter hyperspace in an hour, so make sure you’re prepared.”
Fredrichs left without a word, moving so fast that it was astonishing she didn’t trip over anything. Barnes was more leisurely, getting to his feet and stretching. He met Marissa’s gaze and nodded to her.
“I’ve seen enough of your games to know you can handle yourself in a fight,” he said, offering a hand. “I’m going to be using the free space in the hold as a practice area for the troops. If you ever feel like stretching your legs, you’re welcome any time.”
“Thank you,” Marissa said, shaking his hand.
Barnes shared another enthusiastic shake with Cassandra before leaving the two of them alone. The captain remained seated, attention focused on the tablet as she traced alternate paths across its screen. Some form of apology was in order, although Marissa didn’t think she’d done anything wrong. She had questioned Cassandra’s command in front of the others, though, and that was a serious thing to do. The mistake had been failing to establish what either of them had thought Marissa’s role was on this journey, so that they could have avoided the confrontation altogether.
“So, why Cassandra?” Marissa asked, trying to sound casual.
“What do you mean?” Cassandra asked, trying to look busy.
“You said it wasn’t your real name, and it’s not a Zulkar name, so why choose it?” Marissa asked. “When Papos said ‘Cassandra’, I thought I’d be meeting a human. No offence.”
“That’s good,” said Cassandra. “That’s what I want people to think when they hear it. To slaves, the Kinship is believed to be a place of safety and comfort, and humans are the core of your nation. I know there are Dwin and Phal, but when Imperials talk about the Kinship, they’re thinking about humans, the founding race. That association is useful—the slaves I help to free feel a little safer if their Zulkar captain has a human name instead of a noble one.”
“So what’s your real name?” asked Marissa, unsure if she was asking too much.
Cassandra finally lifted her attention from the tablet. She seemed unsure, and still a little angry. “Cassrith. Not so different, really, but I’d prefer we stick to the code name, Ms. Rhapsody.”
“Right, I understand.” Marissa had no illusions that they were on a first-name basis. “Look, I’m sorry for my outburst earlier, but you weren’t listening to me.”
“Papos told me to keep you safe, but I see that’s going to be harder than I thought.” Cassandra stood, stretching her arms to touch the ceiling. “You’re not what I expected. Given the circumstances, I thought you’d be an emotional mess, maybe worse.”
“So does everyone else,” Marissa groaned. “Yeah, I was shaken when I heard the news, but there’s no sense in moping when I can be doing something.”
Cassandra stifled a yawn. “Good attitude to have, I suppose.”
“Mind if I ask you another question?” Marissa didn’t wait for an answer. “Why are you here?”
Cassandra blinked with surprise. “The same reason as you—to find Arc Rhapsody and bring him home.”
That was the answer Marissa had expected, but not the one she wanted. “Why? Who is he to you?”
Cassandra began to speak, only to cut herself short. Her expression became solemn, meditative, and she lowered her head, her hands pressed together as if in prayer. Just as Marissa began to wonder if she’d said something wrong, Cassandra raised her head and smiled.
“He’s a hero.” In the two-ish hours they’d known each other, Cassandra had never sounded so earnest. “Most slaves we free take whatever small opportunity we can give them, then hide themselves away from larger society. But Arc—I mean, Mr. Rhapsody—he threw himself into the spotlight, not for fame but because he knew something needed to be said. He brought attention to our cause by showing the Kinship what it’s been ignoring for too long. He’s an inspiration to me and many others in our organization. When I heard I might have a chance to meet him—I mean, help him—I jumped for it.”
Marissa tried not to gawk. She had never heard such open, unabashed praise for anyone, let alone Arc. She was embarrassed for him by proxy, knowing he’d have struggled not to act overly humble in her position. She also felt a little jealous.
“I get the sense you don’t feel the same way about me,” she said, tersely.
Cassandra took a long breath, returning to her usual calm, slightly critical expression. “You’ve made a living for yourself, better than many who are born free. That’s respectable.”
“But not like how Arc is respectable,” Marissa pushed.
“No,” Cassandra admitted. “I don’t like to criticize people for how they live their lives, but I don’t understand you. After all the effort of escaping the pits, you go back to fighting. Why? Why turn your back on all Papos and many others did for you?”
Marissa held her temper in check; what Cassandra was saying was not so different from questions Arc had asked plenty of times before, only more condescending. “I didn’t turn my back on anything. Ask Papos, and he’ll tell you he’s proud of what I’ve become. I get paid for what I do, now. In the Empire, spectators thought I was less than them, and would be just as happy to cheer my dismemberment as they did my victories. Now, people want to be me! I’ve been called an inspiration, too—someone people can root for. I’d say that’s a shitload better than what I had.”
“It is,” Cassandra conceded, “but that’s not comparable to what Arc does. He’s striving for change, to make the galaxy a better place. Can you fault me for valuing that over just another gladiator?”
The words stung Marissa more than she’d expected, getting under her skin and itching. “But I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Yes, and I do respect you for that. Only, are you here to save your husband, or to save Arc Rhapsody, the diplomat and icon?”
“What’s the difference?” Marissa asked, irritably. Whatever Cassandra said about being different from other Imperials, she still had that high-and-mighty attitude.
The captain shrugged. “In regards to results, nothing—saving one saves the other. It’s with your motivation, what you think you’re doing, that the difference comes in. There is an old Zulkar legend about a shodus rescuing a fair maiden from a pair of Levvir. There are two versions of this story—one where he saves her and slays the Levvir because it is his duty to protect his people, and another where he saves her for the chance to bed her. Which of those sounds more admirable to you?”
The meaning hit home; she was here to save Arc, her Arc, not this public figure that Cassandra idolized. In the captain’s eyes, that was the selfish option, because she apparently cared about her husband in the wrong way. It was infuriating, but also strangely shaming, because she now suspected Cassandra wasn’t the only one out there who held that opinion. Her stomach clenched unpleasantly, and she wanted to be alone.
She stood in a rush, nearly knocking her chair over. “I have to go.”
Cassandra folded her hands behind her back, tilting her head curiously. “Very well. Remember what I said about entering hyperspace. It’s never fun, so be ready.”
“I will, thanks.”
Marissa staggered out of the cafeteria, her thoughts in turmoil. Selfish—was that her? But if she was selfish for not fighting against slavery as Arc did, didn’t that make most people selfish? Then again, she had experienced slavery firsthand, so maybe, according to some theoretical objective morality system, that meant she should be fighting even harder. Either way, Cassandra had made her feel much guiltier than Arc ever had.
“Rhapsody!”
Marissa turned back to see Cassandra, poking her head out of the cafeteria door. “Yes?”
“Papos wanted you to be safe, but you insist you’re not going to let the mercs handle the fighting alone. He holds me responsible for you. What am I supposed to tell him if you get yourself killed?”
Marissa pulled herself together enough to muster a defiant smile. “Tell him you couldn’t stop me. He’ll understand.”