Improbably, she thought of Speaker. She remembered what the Akarak said to her in those long hours on the shuttle, watching over Tupo.
You don’t want to, Speaker had said. That’s it. That is all it ever needs to be.
Pei opened her eyes, and she saw two things.
She saw the bluest blue, dark as the sea, shifting in currents that carried nothing but love.
She saw orange, sharp and sorrowful. This was not incongruous with the other hue. Sorrow was the right thing to feel when there were two doors in front of you and you knew that one of them was going to stay closed.
The decision solidified. It should’ve felt frightening. It should’ve felt wrong. But the longer Pei let it sit, the more she realised that all she could feel was relief. This one choice didn’t answer everything for her, not even close. How could it? Life was never a matter of one decision alone. Life was just a bunch of tiny steps, one after another, each a conclusion that lead to a dozen questions more. She still had no idea what she was going to do about her job, or her crew, or anything else. But she knew where she was headed now, and that wasn’t nothing.
She brought the message field back up. Once more, she began to write.
Sorry about the delay. There was a huge mess at Gora, and I was stuck there for five days. But I’m fine, and I’m on my way now. I’ll tell you the whole story once I’m there.
Can’t wait to see you.
She sent the message before she could change her mind. Her blood practically fizzed as she did so.
This was the right thing.
She shook out the last scraps of tension in her hands, and put in a voice call to the TA orbiter.
An Aandrisk man appeared on her screen, his scales green as laughter and his feathers a riotous argument. ‘Hey there, I’m Agent Siksish,’ he said. ‘What’s the issue?’
‘My name’s Captain Tem, I’m ship ID number 9992-3-23434-7A. I’m currently in the queue for tunnel number four, but I need to change my course.’
The TA agent gave her a look. ‘Cutting it pretty close there, Captain.’
‘I know,’ she said.
Agent Siksish punched in rapid commands with his claws. ‘You said your ship number is …?’
‘9992-3-23434-7A.’
‘Okay. And which tunnel do you want to take instead?’
‘Tunnel number one.’
He studied his monitors. ‘Since you’ll be reentering a queue, that’s going to tack another hour onto your departure time. Is that going to work for you?’
‘Yes,’ Pei said. At this point, an hour was nothing.
He entered more commands. ‘Okay, there’s a guideship coming your way to lead you out of your current queue and over to the next. Just disengage your autopilot and follow when ready.’
‘Thanks very much,’ Pei said. The call ended. She flashed her commands, and the shuttle pulled out of the lane. She leaned back against the headrest, flicking her inner eyelids.
Holy fuck, she was doing this.
The guideship arrived in minutes; Pei followed steadily along. As her ship swung around, Gora came back into view. The past days there began to mull together in her mind – the people met, the conversations had. An idea began to form. It was a long shot, but … hmm. The more it developed, the more she liked it.
She turned once more to her comms monitor and brought up her lengthy list of work contacts. She scrolled through, not entirely sure who she was looking for. She needed someone with the right kind of influence, someone who liked her, someone who – yes. She pointed at the monitor as she saw the name Kalsu Reb Lometton pop up. Yes, she’d be perfect.
Kalsu, bless her heart, picked up the sib call within minutes. ‘My dear Captain Tem!’ she said. ‘What a pleasant surprise!’ The Harmagian woman sat in the ornate office Pei had stood in a few times before, on work trips to the Capital. Pei didn’t regularly take contracts that needed Kalsu’s stamp, but when she had, the experiences had always been … lively.
‘How goes it on Hagarem?’ Pei asked.
‘Oh, you know, weather’s fine, beaches are lovely, politics are a hellscape. The usual.’ Kalsu glanced at the lower corner of her display. ‘Doesn’t look like you’re in the neighbourhood, so I assume this isn’t a social call.’
‘You are correct, as always,’ Pei said. Kalsu never missed a detail, which was precisely why she was great at the job she never stopped complaining about. ‘I was hoping to ask a favour.’
‘For you? Anything, anytime.’
‘Well, wait until you hear it. I don’t know if this is something you’ve got the pull for.’
Kalsu’s tendrils curled with intrigue. ‘A challenge! How exciting.’ She leaned in and lowered her voice. ‘It’s nothing improper, is it?’
‘Kalsu, come on, it’s me,’ Pei said. ‘Of course not. And actually, that’s exactly why I called you. This one’s no good if we can’t do it above board.’
‘A legal challenge. My favourite. Come, come. I want all the details.’
Pei smiled blue, and continued to nudge her ship in the right direction. Strings could always be pulled.
Day 267, GC Standard 307
ROVEG
They’d changed the archway.
When you landed at the Noble Harbour Spaceport, and you exited your ship, the sight that greeted you was that of a decorative stone archway, dripping with vines and crowning the walkway to the customs building. Roveg had seen it dozens of times, on everything from childhood vacations to his state-mandated departure. But this time was different. He couldn’t see the archway this time, because they’d removed it and replaced it
