“No,” his eyes widen. “I’m in the next room over. These are guest rooms, Tasha – normally for dignitaries, although I doubt that brute Aelon has welcomed anyone of substance onto his ship in quite some time.”
I ignore his judgmental comment about Aelon – which might not be entirely unjustified. Nevertheless, Theme hasn’t seen the pain inside the Aurelian commander – the agony that lurks beneath his cocky, swaggering surface.
Instead, I focus on our plan.
“Good, good.” I clap my hands together. “Okay – so, if the Toads are coming, we’ve got at least a couple of days before they hit us. I have no reason to believe Aelon can’t handle himself, but I’d rather be as far away from The Instigator as possible when they hit it.”
I step up to one of the windows, gazing out across the vacuum of space. In the distance I can see the moon, with the edge of Tarrion peeking out from behind it. There are hundreds of thousands of miles between The Instigator and the surface of the moon, but because of the sheer scale of planets, it looks almost as if I could reach out and touch that silvery orb as it hangs in space.
My mind continues to plot.
“Okay – so it takes time to organize an attack, especially the type of attack the Toads are likely to run. This gives us space to plan.” I wheel around, back in the captain role that has always come to me so easily. “I’ll take the room across from this one. Tonight, we’ll just rest up.”
I turn to Sawoot with a mischievous grin.
“Tomorrow – if you’re still feeling up to it – you can distract the Aurelians, and Theme and I will sneak down into the control room. You said we’ll have full control of the doors and the loading bays?”
“Yes,” Theme nods. “Full control.”
The wheels keep turning in my head. This plan is highly risky, but it might just work…
…only, if it doesn’t work, it’s going to make the already sizzling powder keg of this ship explode right when Aelon has to prepare for the Toad assault.
Whatever happens, things on The Instigator will never be the same again. That’s why our plan is to be as far away from this outdated, discontinued warship as the Wayward Scythe or a stolen Reaver can take us.
“Perfect,” I clap my hands together. “We’ll shut every door that isn’t a pathway to the loading bay – and seal all of these marble-skinned bastards behind them.”
The plan is formulating in my head. Just like when I’d planned the heist which had netted us those twenty-six stolen Orbs – briefly at least – it’s almost euphoric to plot and scheme with such clarity.
I turn to my best friend.
“Sawoot – we’re going to open your door as well. I know you’ll have been busy distracting the Aurelians, but you’re going to have a very brief window to get out before I lock them in here behind you. If you can’t get a key to the Reavers, don’t risk it. You getting out safe is all that matters.”
I turn and scan the room, before ordering: “Show me how fast you can get from the bed to the door.”
“Who said we’re going to use the bed?”
Theme spits out his tea. He looks down at the sofa he’s on, blushing.
“Focus, Sawoot.”
She laughs and rises from the table, sprawling theatrically across the bed.
For a split second, the image of three Aurelians entangled with her flashes into my mind. The bed is big enough to fit all four of them together – with room to spare. It must have been designed with exactly that purpose in mind.
I can now see exactly what kind of welcome female dignitaries get when they board an Aurelian warship!
As distracting as that thought is, we need to focus. I lift my finger, signalling Sawoot. She darts out of the bed, sprinting to the door.
Theme perks up, checking his wristwatch. “Four seconds.”
I counted three, but he’s got a better sense of time than me.
“Not as good as my track and field days,” Sawoot pants, “but not bad.”
That cracks me up. Nobody I know got to experience track and field growing up. On my home world, such things were reserved for rich kids in their private gardens and luscious, green fields. Kids like me got the concrete jungle – and the only running we did was from gangs and muggers.
“Alright,” I nod, “we’ll give you ten seconds in case you need to… untangle yourself. Your job is to get out of the room before the doors close. That will separate you from Garrick’s triad. Then, we won’t have to deal with any Aurelians – not unless there are some who happened to be walking along the exact path we’ll be taking to the loading bay.”
“And the handful still in the loading bay, fixing up the damaged Reavers,” Theme reminds us.
Sawoot doesn’t look happy. “A handful of Aurelians is a lot to deal with – and I should know, because I’ll be coming fresh from exactly that.”
We laugh, but she’s right. That’s the critical flaw in our plan.
Theme stands, draining his cup of tea and setting it down a little too hard on the table. His hand is shaking. “I… I could vent the air from the loading bay.”
“No! We’re not killing innocents.”
He holds up his hands. “No! It’s not like that – no one will get hurt. I’ll open the bay just enough to start venting, then I’ll open one way out for them. They’ll have no choice but to rush out, thinking the loading bay is about to vent. Then, I’ll close the door behind them, re-engage the airlock field, and presto – no more Aurelians.”
I nod. “Smart – very smart.” Theme is pale, but my approval means everything to him. I can see how visibly nervous he is, his body trembling a little as we scheme. I step forward, placing my hand on his shoulder
