1 hour after ARC 5 arrival, ARC 5, Commander Price

  Another hour had passed, three in total, nearing four of constant picketing. Commander Price was still strapped to his seat, controlling the situation as best he could. Port engines had taken a heavy hit and were almost completely offline after squeezing 30% thrust for him until the damaged engine gave out entirely. The maneuverability was taxing helmsman Meric more than the rest of the bridge crew, but not by much. They were all starting to feel the beginnings of exhaustion.

  What had initially been a one-and-done engagement quickly became an endurance fight. Even if someone switched out with Meric so he could rest, they were short-staffed and couldn't switch out the entire bridge, even if that was practical. Although Price wouldn't admit it out loud for fear of hurting morale, mistakes were already piling up one by one due to the fatigue. Commander Price had faith in his crew and knew their abilities would carry them through, but for how many hours before a mistake would turn fatal, he didn't know.

  For the third time in as many hours as the space engagement had dragged on, Commander Price contemplated ordering Whisper to extricate Maria, Canine, and the fawn to escape the battle. It was a good guess. It was a toss-up on what the hostile ships were after, but the two Virtual Intelligences and the High Value target that was the HDF's favorite dog were what the Ship commander would put his money on. The hostile ships were, in all probability, Enigma ships with over 78% scans matching the tech and hull patterns to data from the only other known direct action by Enigma since The Roost massacre at the hands of that devilish Black Dreadnought.

  The thought bothering the Commander was that if he tried to extract Canine and the two VI’s by force, if he had to give that order, then Enigma wouldn’t let Grimoire get away, even if the three ships did break to give chase ARC 5. Their modus operandi had never allowed for leaving witnesses. What frustrated Commander Price was that he wasn't discarding the idea immediately this time. Disgusted with himself, he examined his dwindling list of tactical options. A pit formed in his stomach, bile building in his throat.

  “I'm going to hate myself,” he mumbled.

  Same time, HFS Grimoire, mixed perspectives

  On board Grimoire, Selena was leaving the staff meeting. Her impromptu leadership and qualifications at every bridge station led to the only good part of the meeting. The relief in the room when her promotion to Executive Officer was made official was palpable. Less so than when Captain Abrams ordered that second watch to run things for a while longer while he reorganized the other watch and the rest of the ship. With the bridge gone, there was an overabundance of officers and a shortage of stations that needed to be manned. The duty of sorting out the roster should have been hers, but Captain Abrams ordered Selena and all of 1st watch to rest and compose themselves to be ready for further actions. Selena looked worse than most with her usually neat hair bun instead of a disheveled ponytail she hadn't seen to since everything began, and a certain snappiness to her movement that had replaced her usual smooth poise. Her dark shadows under her eyes from exhaustion stood out the most, and she gratefully chose to try and get some sleep rather than eat or visit the medbay like Sara.

  Selena’s date with her bed was a few meters and an elevator ride away, but her weary steps and drooping shoulders perked to attention, annoyed at the message ping on her wrist comm. The message from the captain read, ‘Talk with the Virtual Intelligence Maria. I'm already asking her about ARC 5’s faction and our SAR guest. We have 3 minutes left before she goes offline.’ Before she was done reading the text, she heard a voice from her earpiece, which she had just removed. She sighed, putting it back in.

  “But if you would like, we can use the conference room 3 doors down and to the left.” Maria's voice said. Selena went to the room, not bothering to respond. When she entered, there was indeed a conference table with projector holograms and screens for a well-rounded multipurpose room. Sitting on the table as if she were accustomed to the spot, a dark-skinned woman with thin goat horns popping out of her short, smooth white hair. Her legs were tucked under her. Her golden yellow eyes regarded her with hourglass-shaped pupils.

  Salena sat down with a sigh, not sure if this would have bothered her if she weren't exhausted and battle-wary. The VI’s Avatar only sat 4 inches tall, maybe 6 in if it stood on its reverse knee, animalistic hooved legs. Selena just tried to focus on her more human upper half, noticing the timer floating next to her.

  “As I said earlier, I only have a limited time until my limiters require me to disconnect entirely from your ship. The captain requested that I answer any of your questions. The ones I can anyway.” Maria said.

  “Why are you on the ship other than apparently being a Service Automaton goat?” Selena asked, trying to stay focused and not get distracted by the absurdity of everything. Even her incredibly dark black human skin tone was something of an anomaly for her, only seen in old Earth movies.

  “Other than ease of transport, the Service Animal role was valid and necessary. I'm slated to rendezvous at the rift with one of the Chuckotka-class freighters. I know for a fact that the second VI Melody is supposed to be heading back to the Runic, which should still be in the Dust systems on the other side of the rift. But at this point, there are a lot of shoulds and supposed to be’s that I can no longer confirm are still the case,” Maria said.

  “Do you know which one of the Chuckotka freighters?”

  “The only ones that make sense due to their last known locations are the Togo, Balto, Stareek, or Tsigane, but all those ships are so fast and have such high jump ranges that it could be any of the ships of that line.” Maria shrugged. Her timer was almost out of seconds.

  “Why did those new crewmen try to take over the ship? Did it have anything to do with…” Selena caught herself remembering not to refer to it as an AI, more for her protection than anyone else's. “A virtual intelligence being aboard?” Selena asked.

  “As of now, yes, my best guess is they are after procuring me, but I suspect they are after more than that. I'll let you know as soon as I―” Maria's hologram winked out. Selena let out a heavy breath, eyeballing one of the more comfy padded benches. She was going to stand up her date with her bed tonight, and sleep in here instead.

  ***

  As disturbing as it was to come across a goat carefully tugging a duffel bag slowly up the hall. Sara was getting used to the creature appearing out of nowhere sometimes. She reached down and picked up the bag for the goat, who trotted happily beside her. The bag was one of Nick's, and it had been heading in the direction of his bed anyway.

  “Bahhhhh!” The plushie-like goat hybrid bleated.

  “Yeah, yeah, you're welcome,” Sara resisted the urge to stop and pick it up or pet it. As much as she considered this a social call, she had one job to do still. Orders directly from Captain Abrams.

  Whisper was outside the medbay, leaning against the wall next to the door. Her face lit in a blue glow as she tapped away at her comm. Hers was more robust and took up most of her arm with a larger-than-usual sturdy screen. Sara made a note to ask her about it to see if it was a mass-produced model she could get her hands on.

  “What's that?” Whisper asked. She hadn't stopped typing away at her wrist comm. Her eyes darted back and forth across the screen, barely giving Sara any attention.

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  “Duffle bag for Nick. Oh, you mean the goat? I don't know how to explain,” Sara started.

  “I know what the goat is. Let me see that bag before you take it in.” Whisper reached for the bag.

  “Uh, No! Look, I'm sorry, but whoever you are, I'm not going to let you riffle around Nick's belongings. Ask him if you want to.” Sara said, ripping the bag away and taking a step back. Whisper stopped reaching and looked away from her screen, making eye contact.

  “Who I am is someone who's been there when he's lost his shit. I saved his life, and he's saved mine, both more than once. Even if I don't know him as well as you might, there's a lot that's happened in the past year. Do you know what it's like to have bullets flying at you and having to dodge shit cans worth of rocks while simultaneously worrying about a wounded friend and soldier? He nearly got in the way last time he broke out of medbay. Believe it or not, I, and a lot of the others, care about him. Don't let our tough love fool you.” Whisper snarled like an animal would defend its den.

  “I could see that you and that Lieutenant cared, and while I appreciate the sentiment, you're still not touching his bag.” Sara tucked the bag under her arm, confrontationally eyeing the other woman. Awkward silence played out between the two. Then a metallic bonk, followed by short ‘baaa and more bonks, drew the attention of the two to the goat head butting the door.

  “Look, I'm sorry. Just…if we're not here, don't let him leave. I guarantee you he will leave sooner than he feels better. The doctor says his eyes are going to heal, but he needs to rest, and his legs need even longer to recuperate after the damage from the explosion.” Whisper hit the door control. “This is your ship, but he's not just our friend. Even if he chose HDF over us.” Whisper’s stiff shoulders and stony face softened, the Valkyrie's cool, steady gaze shimmering with sincerity and concern.

  “May I ask you something?” Sara said, trying to focus on her task. Not asking all the other questions that burned in her mind before she got answers. Whisper nodded.

  “Earlier, before your ship showed up, there was a woman named Maria. We have no registry of her, but she's straight up implied that she was the goat.” Sara nodded her head at the goat, which was in the process of magnetically walking up the wall so it could reach Nick's bed.

  “Maria is either the goat or still in a suitcase. She can use the goat to move around and interact, even if she has inhibitor shackles keeping her from interfacing or doing certain things. I know she looks like an AI and acts like an AI, but she's a virtual intelligence based on actual human personalities or something. The point is, regardless of what she is, it's important that you speak of her like she is a VI, because that's all she is. You know how strict The Architects are about any kind of machine intelligence, especially artificial intelligence that shows sentience.” Whisper said. Sara looked like she expected more, but the cool stare Whisper was giving signaled the end of the conversation.

  “Will you get off my chest?” Nick's voice softly drifted through the door to the two women. They smiled at their mutual friend, who was playfully batting at the goat with his hands. They both approached the short-sighted Nick.

  “Oh, by the way, Nick gave me this card.” Whisper pulled Selena’s escort card out of her flight suit. “He knows I don't like using these, but said you might be able to introduce me. To get a regular date?” Whisper asked. Sara stopped a few feet short of Nick's bed.

  “Wait, what?” Sara asked.

  “Your friend is the one who works in operations. I'd like to try and get a date without having to pay for it. It's the principle of the thing, not that I'm broke.” Whisper replied, looking up at Sara.

  “I actually kind of got the impression that you might have something going on with Nick. I always hoped he’d find a decent lady after all these years.” Sara said quietly, glancing nervously at Nick, judging if he could hear.

  “Ew,” Whisper said. “And ladies don't swear as much as I do.”

  “Fuck no,” Nick said, scratching the goat behind the ear unfazed. Whisper grinned ear to ear.

  “Actually, I asked him to get me dinner with you since I assumed you were the only lass he knew. Of course, then he threatened to stab me 36 times.” Whisper smiled.

  “37,” Nick said.

  “Not my fucking type!”

  “Not that kind of stabbing,” Nick growled.

  “Get fucked!” She spat.

  “Get bent.”

  “Get me a date and I will!” She said.

  Even for Sara, she couldn't tell if Nick was serious or joking until both of them started laughing. The merriment fizzled out. The weight of the situation on the ship lay heavy over every room and hallway.

  Sara put the bag next to Nick, who made eye contact, smiling at her. The simple gesture warmed her with relief at seeing some of his sight returning. Whisper sighed grumpily as he pulled a black helmet out of the bag and started fiddling with it.

  “Why the fuck do you need that? And what the fuck did you actually…hang on. What did you glue there?” Whisper asked.

  “It's not glued.” Nick started talking tech talk with the Valkyrie pilot. Sara tuned it out as she quickly typed out a short report to send Captain Abrams about the Maria character. She had planned to grill Nick about it, but at this point, she doubted she'd get anything more out of him than she already had over the past couple of weeks. Even if she hadn't been asking or wondering about Maria at the time. It was so much harder to talk about anything other than light topics with Nick. Thinking about it made Sara feel more frustrated.

  Hanging off the back of her belt, the radio crackled from inside Whisper's helmet.

  “Remnant forces responding to Arc 5 4D pulse. All vessels state intentions and affiliations or risk friendly fire!” An authoritative voice came over the radio. Nick sat up ramrod straight, reaching his hand into the helmet as Whisper put hers on. She lightly tapped Nick's shoulder with a fist as he turned his radio on to still listen in.

  “Arc 5 on station, picketing HFS Grimoire from Enigma ships, sending telemetry data, current speed 850 m/s. Advise making Grimore the North Star. VIPs on board repeat VIPs on board Grimoire. How copy.

  “Roger Arc 5, Arc 3 on station 22 seconds to reinforcements. Designating HFS Grimoire as the North Star, telemetry received. Arc 3 accelerating to engage.”

  “What's a North Star?” Sara asked, her spirits rising.

  “It's a designated point assigned to help coordinate movements. Kind of like if you're falling and you don't know which way is the ground, so you pick an arbitrary point to treat as the ground to help orient yourself.” Nick said with a crazy grin spreading across his face. Sara smiled at his contagious grin, elated to see his genuine smile for the first time in years.

  “Two, three, even four Arcs aren't going to be enough to take down that heavy cruiser. They could do it, but we would lose some of ours.” Whisper said, sounding authoritative through her helmet speakers. Nick put up a hand to shush everybody.

  The Remnant cruisers fell into positions to picket Grimoire. In the bleak darkness of space, a massive hole was violently ripped open. Wreathed in bright hues of cloudy energy that dissipated, leaving only chaotic lightning licking the ship's hull. The kind of emergence a large, unaligned, damaged 4D engine would produce. A whitish gray ship, marred in black streaks, exposed compartments from giant tears in its exterior. The massive carrier leaped forth as if from the gates of hell itself, rebuked from its brimstone playground.

  “WOJTEK ON STATION!” The ship's call sounded like a legion of voices crushed in a rusted can. Its challenge fell across space like a blanket of retribution. Distinct in the cacophony of so many other new transmissions.

  “Arc 4 launching, t-minus 30 seconds.

  “Grey flight standing by, ready to launch.”

  “Be advised. Positive puppet signature detected. Marines sweep ships top to bottom.”

  “Arc 4 push on Enigma cruiser. Wojtek will wipe the deck and draw fire. ARCs 3 and 5 hold defensive positions over Grimoire. Allied HDF defense flight, please stay close to your ship." The radio was still transmitting orders as Sara spoke.

  “Even I know that's a nice way of saying stay out of our way.” She said,

  “Nick!” Whisper hissed. Sara looked and saw a complete shift in his expression. Even his temporarily bright teal green eyes seemed dark with malicious hate. Whisper grabbed his bag and kicked it under the bed. Unable to yank the helmet from his grasp.

  “I won't, okay! Shit! But let me listen if I'm going to stay here.” Nick bit off every word as he freed his helmet from her grasp. “It could be anywhere. One might not even show up.” Nick said unconvincingly. Sara wasn't sure if he was trying to convince them for their sake or if he was trying to convince himself. Whatever a puppet signature was, it had spooked both pilots. Not even Whisper's aggressive management of Nick could hide that underneath.

  “I don't care what you say. Stay here and show you mean what you say, and stay put.” Whisper said, making eye contact with Sara as she kicked his bag over to Sara, making “watch him” gestures with her fingers and eyes.

  The Valkyrie pilot turned to leave. Then she was gone.

  “I trust you,” Nick said unconvincingly. Desperately trying to believe.