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Commander Jecks’ day cabin intercom chimed softly. He put down his book, a printed version of one of his favorite historical accounts, one covering the years immediately before the empire’s creation from the dying corpse of the old Commonwealth and tapped his desktop.
“Captain, here.”
“CIC, sir. The intruders are breaking out of orbit.”
“Finally. We stay under current conditions until they go FTL. Make sure we track their course just before they jump. We need to find out which wormhole they’ll likely take out of this system.”
“Aye, aye, sir.”
Suddenly, Jecks found his interest in the book gone while renewed worry about the Lyonesse Brethren on Hatshepsut took over his thoughts. The entire crew spent the next few hours impatiently waiting for the intruders to reach the hyperlimit and vanish. At around the expected time, Jecks headed for the CIC and took the command chair from Serenity’s combat systems officer.
The sensor chief’s report seemed almost anticlimactic when he announced unknown vessels were gone.
“What’s their heading?”
“Wormhole Hatshepsut Two, Captain.”
Jecks sat back and stroked his chin with his right hand.
“That one eventually leads into the Wyvern Sector. I wonder...” He touched his chair’s controls. “Bridge, this is the captain, up systems and get to Hatshepsut as fast as possible.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” the first officer replied with such immediacy that Jecks understood he’d been waiting for the order. “Up systems and best speed for Hatshepsut.”
An almost painful sense of urgency now gripped Jecks, and no doubt everyone else aboard the Void Ship. He made a point of returning to his quarters rather than stewing in the CIC or on the bridge. But that merely hid his impatience from Serenity’s crew, until, a few hours later...
“Captain, this is the bridge. We’re within hailing distance.”
“Then, by all means, see if you can rouse them from their torpor. It’s what? Past sunrise in Thebes?”
“Aye, aye. I’m transmitting on the priory frequency now.”
**
None in Aswan Trader caught more than the odd nap as the now four-masted barquentine crept out to sea, clearing the shoals surrounding the Saqqaras before turning north and resuming her journey. Every hour, on the hour, one of the Brethren turned on the shortwave radio and listened for any message from Thebes, in the vain hope of hearing encouraging news.
When Rianne took over radio watch during the hour of the wolf, while Aswan Trader slipped over a sea shimmering with a million stars now that both moons had set, she settled on a pile of sails from the mizzen mast stored beneath the taffrail. Whether they were being hunted or whether she and Horam imagined the whole thing seemed immaterial. Rianne simply wanted news from her Brethren but the airwaves remained stubbornly silent. Then, unexpectedly, the radio lit up with a familiar crackle, startling her and everyone within earshot.
“Priory, Priory, Priory, this is Serenity, do you copy?”
It was the usual message, on a loop that would continue automatically until someone on the ground answered. The only thing that changed from time to time was the Void Ship’s name. Rianne listened, growing tenser by the minute, until she realized the Thebes Priory wouldn’t or, more likely, couldn’t answer.
Yet if Serenity was close enough to risk calling the priory, it could only mean the Hegemony expedition was either gone or was hidden so well one of the Lyonesse Navy’s most advanced ships couldn’t find it. Rianne was willing to bet on the former. She raised the set and activated the transmitter function.
“Serenity, Serenity, Serenity, this is Priory Detachment aboard the Theban merchant ship Aswan Trader. Do you copy?”
Several seconds passed, then, “Priory Detachment, this is Serenity, identify yourself.”
“Two Lyonesse and two Hatshepsut Brethren on a detached mission, Sister Rianne speaking. Since you’re on this channel, does it mean the Hegemony expedition left?”
More seconds than before passed, then another voice came through the speaker.
“This is Al Jecks, the commanding officer, Sister. We met about eighteen months ago if I recall correctly. What the hell happened?”
“You recall correctly, and I wish I knew.”
“When we dropped out of FTL, we found five warships in orbit, apparently derived from old imperial designs and definitely not part of the Lyonesse Navy. We remained at the hyperlimit and observed until they went FTL outbound a few hours ago. Thebes isn’t answering our hails, though long-range scans show nothing abnormal at the priory. Power emissions are within the usual range.”
Rianne let out a bitter laugh.
“Do you have time for a long story, Captain? Because I can tell you a doozy, and I fear our Brethren probably left this star system aboard those ships against their will.”
“Give me the complete story, Sister. If I go home without every little niggling fact in my possession, HQ won’t be happy, and an unhappy HQ means less than desirable assignments once my tour in command of Serenity is over, so speak away.”
“While I do that, can you track our position? It would be helpful if you picked us up with one of your shuttles. Sailing back to Thebes in Aswan Trader will take longer than you can afford, and if something happened in Thebes, we should be there as soon as possible.”
“Will do.” Another pause. “So, what’s the story from your end?”
By this time, most off-duty crew members were within earshot of Rianne, along with Horam, Alcide, and Lilith, alerted by her unusually loud voice at this time of night, in the hours between the deepest of dark and the first spark of dawn when those aboard found sleep impossible.
Rianne recounted everything from the day Fenrir admitted trading Lyonesse medical supplies for railguns of unknown origin to their sailing out of a Saqqara Islands fjord under engine power, disguised as a four-master, the previous evening.
“Heck of a situation, Sister. Defense Force HQ will whelp a whole new sum of fears when they hear about this. Hang on.” A pause. “We picked up your transmitter’s coordinates. A shuttle will meet up with your ship in about ninety minutes, give or take. In the meantime, I’m sending another with the supplies to Thebes. My landing party officer will take charge until your arrival, if necessary.”
“Thank you, Captain. Let’s hope their transmitter is suffering from a malfunction.” But even as Rianne spoke those words, she understood they voiced a forlorn hope. If the Thebes Priory wasn’t responding, it could only be because the Lyonesse Brethren were no longer there.
“Hope is a fine thing, Sister, but realism is an even finer one. We should find out within the hour. Anything else?”
“Nothing that can’t wait until your folks pick us up.”
“In that case, Serenity, out.”
Rianne looked up at Horam, standing with Fenrir a respectful distance from her, Alcide and Lilith at their sides. The Friar, wearing a sad expression, slowly shook his head. Though the furthest thing from a pessimist, he clearly figured if Serenity’s powerful transmitter couldn’t light up the priory’s duty office, it was because there was no one left who could hear the signal.
“How will they pick you up?” Fenrir asked. “Your spacecraft can’t land on my deck.”
Rianne tucked the radio away and shrugged.
“They’ll probably take us off one by one via a rescue line while hovering above our windward side.”
“Which means by the time we touch Thebes, whatever is destined to happen will have done so.” Fenrir let out an exasperated sigh. “You lot giving us glimpses of what once was and will be at some time in the nebulous future is rather exasperating, you realize that?”
“We do. But it can’t be helped. Even the Republic of Thebes can’t go from sailing ships to faster-than-light travel in the space of a few years, not without the sort of social disruption that might destroy it.”
“So you insist.” Fenrir didn’t bother hiding his skepticism.
“Mind you,” Horam said, “recent events will likely change the timetable. Suppose the Almighty has decided on Hatshepsut as the interface between the mysterious Hegemony and our Republic of Lyonesse? In that case, you could find your fortunes changing faster than expected and perhaps faster than you might wish.”
“A pessimistic Friar. Our fortunes are changing already.”
An amused grin split Horam’s features.
“Realistic, Captain. Sure, I’m a man of the Almighty, but that doesn’t mean I’m not also a man of our galaxy. Trust me on this. Things change slowly until they change all at once. Been there, seen that. It doesn’t work out well a lot of the time.” Horam turned to Rianne. “I suggest we gather our bags and keep them on deck, ready for departure. I’ll bring one of the fabricators for Serenity, if Captain Fenrir would be kind enough to lend me a large carryall. He can see that the other two reach the priory after he docks.”
**
Just under ninety minutes later, as the first crack of dawn painted the eastern sky a delicate pink, Rianne was proved right when a sleek, unmarked aircraft appeared over the horizon behind them. It closed in and came to a hover on the ship’s windward side, aft ramp open horizontally with a boom sticking out above it. Within moments, a harness on the end of a line appeared at the boom’s tip and began to descend.
Horam, gaff in hand, caught the harness when it came within reach and pulled it down.
“Lilith, you’re up first.”
The young Sister, looking composed and without fear, travel bag tightly gripped in one hand, allowed Horam to secure the harness around her. He stepped back and raised both hands above his head, the signal that the shuttle’s loadmaster could hoist her up. Then, in quick succession, he sent up Alcide and Rianne before stepping into the harness along with all his luggage.
Just before making the signal, Horam came to attention and faced Captain Fenrir.
“Permission to disembark, sir?”
“Granted. See you in Thebes.”
“Godspeed and fair sailing, Captain.”
“Good luck.”
With that, Horam raised his arms, and his feet left the deck. Moments after he vanished into the craft, its boom withdrew, the aft ramp rose, and it peeled off to port, gaining altitude before turning east, toward Thebes.
“What’s the word, Tuek?” Horam asked when the co-pilot, a Navy petty officer first class he’d known for years, stuck his head into the passenger compartment to check on them.
“The word is that you and Rianne are the only Lyonesse Brethren left on this planet. The supply shuttle landed just before we caught up with your ship. Goons in full fighting order invaded the Chapter House during compline last night, rounded up Sister Hermina and the others, tied up the local Brethren with plastic field manacles, and vanished into the night. Apparently, a Sister of the Void wearing a military uniform was among them. She pointed out the Lyonessers with unerring precision.”
A look of anguish overcame Rianne’s usual aura of tranquillity.
“That’s what we feared would happen. The people who kidnapped them likely belong to something known as the Hegemony.”
“Then it explains the five warships with that distinctly old empire design. They were in orbit when Serenity dropped out of FTL at the hyperlimit. We loitered, running silent until they left on a course for the wormhole terminus leading into the Wyvern Sector. Your Brethren must be aboard.”
Horam patted Rianne on the shoulder.
“I guess that makes you the prioress until Hermina is back or head office sends a replacement.”
She turned her head to give him a sad smile. “And it makes you the interim chief administrator.”
The big Friar let out a disconsolate sigh.
“I guess this cloud has no silver lining.” He reached into the borrowed bag and pulled out the Hegemony-made fabricator. “Here you go, Tuek, something for the analysts back home.”