Cabot rubbed his hands together thoughtfully. “Would we need actual people, or the mere assumption of people?”
Fallon smiled. Cabot had the right idea and that boded well for this plan. “Just the assumption.”
“So a couple of personnel transports. Should these ships be capable of withstanding an attack?”
“Yes. We’re presenting him with a target. A target that he’d love to destroy. So these ships need to be prepared. Of course, if there’s any damage, I’ll cover the cost of repair.” And if the repairs were interesting, at least Wren would be entertained.
“Hmm. When would you want those ships to arrive?”
“The actual arrival isn’t important. It’s the approach I care about. I’d like them to take no longer than a week to arrive, but the sooner they got under way the better, so I could start laying the groundwork to draw out our snake.”
Cabot pressed his lips together. “That’s quick. Large transports tend to be booked out in advance to ensure capacity.”
“If you can’t help—”
He cut in. “I didn’t say I couldn’t. I just need to make some inquiries. See what’s available.”
“I’ll let you get started.” She paused at the door. “Thanks, Cabot. If you can help me out with this, I’ll owe you one. Not just me, either. A lot of people will owe you one.”
“Oh, I do love to be owed favors from important people.” His jauntiness had returned. “I suspect this is going to be quite the interesting adventure.”
He had no idea. Or…maybe he did.
On the boardwalk the next afternoon, Cabot waved Fallon over and ushered her into his shop for a private chat.
As she waited for him to finish up with his customer, she looked around, noticing what items were new or missing compared to the previous day. She recalled her bet with Hawk, and her need to pick out something special for him to give to Hesta, but she saw nothing bizarre enough. Another day.
Cabot escorted his happy customer, who carried a small cube-shaped container, to the door. He quickly locked up and joined Fallon.
“I can have two ships with a combined capacity of eight hundred here in about eight days. Is that sufficient?” he asked. “With just a few crew on each.”
“It’s faster than I expected, though slower than I hoped. So I guess it’s just right.”
He smiled. “Good. I already told them to get under way.”
“That was presumptuous. But smart. Thank you.” She calculated what she’d need to arrange. Timing would be critical, but a week gave her more than enough time to have everything in place.
“Anything I can do to help.” Cabot wore his customary pleasant expression, but the look in his eyes was dead serious.
“I’ll hold you to that.” She smiled to show her gratitude, but she wasn’t joking either.
She rode the lift back up to her office. As she stepped out, an odd sensation caused her to slap her hand to the wall to keep herself steady. She felt light-headed, and her perception of her surroundings dimmed for a moment.
The sensation passed quickly, and she straightened. She now had long numbers in her head, which she immediately recognized as coordinates. Krazinski had told her where to find him.
It was go time.
Back in the pilot seat of the Nefarious, Fallon felt invincible. She wished she never had to leave this spot, existing in a time loop where she was forever embarking on a mission with her team. She felt fairly certain Hawk, Peregrine, Raptor, and Ross felt the same.
The small Sarkavian moon her coordinates were leading her to seemed an unlikely place for Krazinski to be hiding out. But then the best hideouts were usually the unlikely ones.
Landing on the moon gave her a strange sense of having come full circle. She’d planned her rebellion from the outside, and here she was, bringing her team back into the fold so they could join forces to take out the real enemy. After two years of being diverted, she was returning to what she should have been doing all along.
Yet if she hadn’t had these past years, she wouldn’t have Dragonfire, the crew of the Onari, or her current relationship with Raptor. She wouldn’t have even met Wren.
She wouldn’t wish those things away, even if she could.
The coordinates she’d received led them to a bunker. Its opening was wedged into the side of a crater. Fallon didn’t care for wearing a pressure suit, but there was no way around it. An airlock on the surface would have given the bunker away.
Raptor entered the code Krazinski had sent them, and the hatch opened. Though the passage below was lit, the steep stairs leading downward had an ominous feel.
“Creepy-ass entrance,” Raptor observed. “Never would have known it was here. But that’s the point, right?” His words came through their open channel sounding hollow.
“Why have a secret hideout unless you can make it seem like some space monster is about to come out and eat you?” She appreciated the ominous feeling of the place.
“Not what I meant, but I can’t disagree.”
She descended first. The sound of her boots clanging on the metal steps came up through her suit. Bang, bang, shuffle, bang.
Finally they reached the bottom. Fallon waited for Raptor to join her, and then they stepped into the airlock together.
“I have to admit, I don’t feel awesome about this,” Raptor said as he secured the hatch behind them. “It’s like we’re trapping ourselves for someone else’s convenience.”
“Yeah.” She activated the pressurization sequence. “But even if someone did have plans for us, they’d know that we have friends in a nice big ship ready to tear the side of this moon off to get to us.” She hit the airlock’s voicecom circuit. “Isn’t that right?” She had no doubt they were being monitored on an internal line.
“Save your energy for the real enemy, Fallon,” Krazinski’s voice advised, sounding amused. “There’s nobody here but me.”
“I’ve had a hard time telling who the real enemy is lately,” she
