LOG-117.

  It all came down to timing, in the end.

  "Red will be leaving on the Harmony's Vigil, a Concordant class model adjusted for Gem hauling and assigned to transport high risk off colours."

  Shifting in place, I tapped a finger against the table, my gemstone lighting up slightly as I used a fancy bit of projection work to help illustrate just what I was saying, including the streamlined figure of the Diamond Deco style inspired vessel.

  "Her departure is scheduled for approximately thirty two hours from now, with a projected travel time of six standard cycles to its final destination, a Harvesting facility near the core worlds."

  Everyone paused to quietly wince at that, before I continued.

  "Escort detail is a detachment of Quartz soldiers, minimum six, maximum twelve, plus standard automated defenses. More than we'd like, but manageable. A Peridot will likely be piloting the ship, if not a Rutile."

  I kept my tone neutral, clinical, as I laid out the facts, watching my audience carefully. The dim light of the backroom made their own gemstones gleam dully, but the tension between them remained as bright as a star.

  The Navy Quartz, the more palatable of the two, stood with her arms crossed, a solid wall of simulated muscle and unspoken challenge. She hadn't introduced herself yet, which meant she was either waiting for the right moment, or preferred to avoid speaking entirely.

  Rutile (she hadn't provided any other name), on the other hand, was bristling already. "Our Brigade can handle the assault." She said, her voice clipped and sharp. "Bixbite's forces are more than enough for something like this."

  I exhaled slowly through my nose. "And that means what, exactly?" I glanced at Truce, lifting a brow. "How big is that?"

  The Pearl hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with the dynamic, but after a moment she muttered back at me.

  "The Fighters have their own structure. Bixbite's Brigade is a recently founded group that fell within their overall category. N-naturally, they don't answer to Fawn, and they don't like being lumped in with other groups unless they're in charge either. It ah...has led to friction with some of the other Fighters, but they're currently the closest available for this kind of work."

  I turned my gaze back to Rutile.

  "Good to know. But Homeworld won't care about your distinctions. To them, a rebel is a rebel, no matter how you carve up your groups. If you think you need extra numbers, find some Gems you can trust."

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  My eyes narrowed dangerously.

  "Because if this goes wrong, it won't be your little band of rogue pilots and soldiers that gets wiped out alone, it'll be every other Fighter unit tied to this operation, and maybe even some Fawn elements, if you manage to crack up enough that you get captured and interrogated."

  Rutile stiffened, but she didn't speak again. Good.

  The Navy Quartz, finally, sighed and uncrossed her arms. "Call me Breaker. And fine. Fighters, Brigade, whatever makes this work. Maybe we'll call in some help from the Legion. Now let's hear the rest."

  I inclined my head slightly, acknowledging the concession and taking note of what I could only assume was yet another Fighter sub-faction.

  "We take no chances on this. Truce and I will ensure that when the Vigil inevitably sends its distress signal, it'll go nowhere. There's ways to make it happen."

  A glance at the Pearl in question led to her nodding, confirming my assumption. Something for Glitch or someone else to handle, most likely.

  "The Crystal Confluence won't acknowledge the call, won't respond, won't even register it as received."

  I waved a hand to emphasize the point.

  "As far as Homeworld will be concerned, the transport left and will have continued its journey without issue, right up until it somehow got lost in deep space. That means no suspicion on our end."

  "And then we take the ship itself." Breaker said, nodding.

  I nodded back.

  "Exactly. I presume you lot have a stolen vessel to use, considering you managed to actually get here in the first place?"

  The soldier shrugged in response.

  "We do. It's an Outworld. Fast, maneuverable, lightly armoured, but more than enough to punch into a hauler. Everyone else is currently waiting aboard. We got in here using a pod with a spoofed signature."

  I glanced at Truce again. She was already half a step ahead, nodding in confirmation.

  "An Outworld is an old cargo saucer modified to act as a gunship. Fighters have a habit of repurposing vessels like that. They're uh…not hard to get a hold of and upgrade, so it's kind of become a recognised term for those sorts of ships. They're very reliable!"

  Crossing my arms, I looked back towards the Quartz.

  "Then it's just a matter of timing. You'll board, subdue the escort, and extract the prisoner before they can jump out of the system, and well before Homeworld ever notices something went wrong. No mess, no lingering traces."

  I paused.

  "...Keeping the ship would probably be best as well, if you have room for a hauler in your group."

  Rutile folded her arms but nodded stiffly, grouching away in her corner of the room. "We'll…relay your ideas to Bixbite. She'd probably like a second ship...especially if we can recruit the crew as well."

  I stared just long enough for the red Gem to start fidgeting, then continued. "Good. If she has any alterations she'd prefer to make, we can set up a second meeting, but don't take too long, we're on a limited schedule."

  Flicking my hand at the pair, I tilted my head towards the exit.

  "If that's all, then I think we're done here. Keep in touch, we're in this together for the time being."

  Truce and I both turned to leave as the duo nodded silently, the doors swishing open and closed as we passed through them.

  "...I think that went we-"

  The moment we'd stepped a few paces outside the meeting room, I barely had time to take a breath before my fellow Pearl spun on me, gripping my arms with surprising strength considering her general attitude.

  I tensed for a reprimand. Or maybe an incoherent scream for my actions.

  "How do you do that?!"

  I froze, even as she continued to whisper with an almost amusingly urgent tone. "How do you just-just take control like that? Teach me, please! I need to know how to be like that!"

  A blink. Two blinks. Then, slowly, I smiled.

  "It's...not something that can be taught immediately. But pay attention, and maybe you'll learn a thing or two."

  She didn't let go as we continued further down the hallway, badgering on about how she'd love the chance to do something similar to some other Fighters she'd apparently had the displeasure of meeting, even as I pulled the tablet from my storage space to report the results of the rendezvouz to Ardent.