She certainly had it now. Commander of a growing planetary fleet of fighters? And coordinating joint training with pilots from two cultures? It was a Hades of a jump from piloting a warship and being responsible for no one but herself. Had this been Candini from four years ago, Ekatya would not have thought her ready for the job. But her duties since then had included a stint as squadron commander and then flight ops commander, giving her a great deal of supervisory experience. She honestly could not think of anyone better suited to this unique position.

  When their informal party ended with Andira’s next appointment, Ekatya bid farewell to Solvassen and offered to walk Candini to the landing pad. She had only stopped here as a courtesy; her true destination was Blacksun Base.

  As soon as they exited the State House, Candini spoke in Common. “How are you, really? Is the shit as deep as I think? No way they let you keep your command without some sort of leash.”

  Ekatya nearly stumbled as the new reality set in: Candini was no longer in Fleet. She did not need protection from the truth, nor a carefully drawn line between friend and superior officer.

  The freedom left her unable to speak for several steps.

  “It’s deep,” she said at last. “Daily check-ins to reaffirm my loyalty to the Protectorate. Weekly security reports on my movements so they can be spot-checked for irregularities. Admiral Greve has blanket access to any security cam footage he asks for, no probable cause necessary as long as I’m in it. And I found spy cams in my quarters.”

  Candini stopped walking and turned with a thunderous expression. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  “I wish I were.”

  “They’re treating you like a traitor!”

  “Not quite. They’re treating me like someone they expect to become a traitor. Since I haven’t done anything, they can’t throw me out. But they’re waiting for it.”

  “Spy cams in your quarters? That’s not even legal!”

  “No, it’s not.” Ekatya felt the heat in her face; even the memory of finding those cams made her angry. “Which is exactly what I said into the cams I removed, right before I destroyed them.”

  “Did they get the message?”

  “Haven’t found any since. But I hate the fact that I have to check every day, just in case. And that they’re listening to my interactions with the crew. It’s not only my privacy being invaded. It’s everyone I talk to.”

  Candini shook her head, the tips of her ears as red as her hair. “What a bunch of flat-assed desk pilots. Why haven’t you left yet? If the Alseans made me a First Pilot, they’d probably make you the right hand to Fahla.”

  Laughing despite herself, Ekatya put a hand on her shoulder. “I can’t tell you how good it is to see you. And to be able to talk to someone who understands.”

  Candini tugged her back into an embrace, this one a gentle counterpoint to her earlier exuberance. “I really, really missed you. It was so hard when someone else got your pilot’s chair.”

  “It was. But it worked out. You’re exactly where you should be.” She pulled back and grinned. “I can’t wait to see the fancy new uniform.”

  “Yeah, that’ll take some getting used to. Along with a few other things.” Candini tilted her head toward the landing pad and resumed their walk. “So? Why are you putting up with this shit? There has to be a good reason.”

  “Why did you take this position?”

  “It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. And no one else can do it like me.”

  Ekatya lifted her hands in a there you are gesture.

  “Well, fuck,” Candini said quietly.

  12

  Mentor

  Rahel stood at the glass wall that separated shuttle operations from the bay. Beside her, Captain Serrado exuded a rare, uncomplicated happiness as she watched the guidance lights activate. They pulsed through the exit tunnel, a green wave bringing their guest from the outer doors to the bay.

  The first Gaian to serve in the Alsean Defense Force was arriving, and Captain Serrado wanted Rahel to meet her. “She has a lot to learn,” Serrado had said. “I think she’ll find your counsel invaluable.”

  Rahel’s protest that she was not a pilot and had never served in a Guard unit was met with the observation that they were counterparts. As the first Alsean to serve in Fleet, Rahel’s experience was the mirror image to what First Pilot Candini was about to go through.

  First Pilot. What an odd thing, to stand here waiting for a Gaian with the equivalent rank to her own. Rahel wasn’t sure what she thought about it.

  Then the nose of the Serrado fighter came into view, followed by the rest of its gleaming body, and her breath caught.

  Fleet fighters had the same silver hullskin as its shuttles and ships, a semiorganic and cybernetic material that allowed them to withstand the high radiation levels in base space. It was practical, necessary, and visually dull. Two of the Phoenix’s shuttles had been designed without hullskin, specifically for use in the Alsean atmosphere, but their black hulls were no more interesting than the silver.

  The white fighter emerging from the exit tunnel shone like a beacon in contrast to the drab shuttles parked below. Curved black and gold patterns marked its wings, while its side was emblazoned with a shield in the same colors. Centered in the shield was the unmistakable outline of the State House. Rahel needed no further confirmation of its home base, but the Alsean script spelling BLACKSUN beneath the shield made her heart beat faster.

  This was a piece of home, come to the Phoenix under its own power. It brought her two worlds together in a way she hadn’t anticipated, and she could not stop smiling.

  “Gorgeous, isn’t it?” Serrado said as they watched the fighter gracefully descend to the deck. “I remember the first time I saw one of these. I told Lancer Tal that none of my own fighters made me want to run my hands over it. But I wanted to pet that one.”

  “What did she say?”

  “She said I couldn’t have it.”

  That sounded about right.

  “Then she let me fly it. It was—” She exhaled, her emotional signature expanding with an aching blend of joy and melancholy. “A moment of perfect freedom.”

  “She gave you a gift,” Rahel said.

  The captain looked startled, then offered a wry smile. “I don’t know why it keeps surprising me when you understand. Yes, she did. Shall we?”

  By the time they made it from shuttle ops to the floor of the bay, the fighter was fully settled and the all clear had been given. A maintenance crew hustled past them to lock down the fighter and begin checking it over. The pilot finished her own check and opened the hatch on her side, offering a jaunty wave to Serrado while waiting for the ladder. It smoothly extended from the belly of the fighter and had barely touched the deck before she was climbing down.

  She jumped the last step and strode over, radiating confidence and a happiness that increased as she neared. “Captain. It’s been a long time.”

  “A whole day, yes. Nice uniform.”

  “Sharp, isn’t it? We’re the only ones in the Defense Force who get them. Our fleet may be under ADF oversight now, but they’re already planning to break us out into our own military branch.”

  “Don’t hold your breath,” Serrado said. “It’ll be a few cycles. There’s a little matter of building ships first.”

  “I know, but I’m going to be in on this from birth! And these uniforms . . .” She slid her hands down her sides in a blatantly provocative gesture, satisfaction coiling off her skin. “How can anyone resist this?”

  Serrado crossed her arms. “The uniform, or you?”

  “Well, both. Obviously.”

  Rahel looked back and forth between them, startled by the unprofessional behavior on one side and the tolerant amusement on the other.

  “This bit shows my natural habitat.” Candini pointed at the swirl of light blue triangles breaking up the black background on her torso. “I’m told they represent shards of sky against the darkness of space. Alseans really like triangles.”

  “They’re a foundational aspect of Alsean art, architecture, and conceptual thinking, yes,” Serrado said dryly. “If that’s what you mean by ‘really like.’”

  With some effort, Rahel held back her laugh.

  Undeterred, Candini pointed at the matching blue chevrons on her sleeve. “And these show my rank. Same as yours, I see,” she said, looking up at Rahel.

  “I’m not sure which of you took a more unusual path to that rank.” Serrado gestured between the two of them. “First Pilot Candini, may I present First Guard Sayana.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” Rahel said politely, holding out a hand for the inevitable shake.

  “Stuff that. You’re Alsean.” Candini held up her hand, palm outward. “Well met, First Guard Sayana.”

  Startled but pleased, Rahel met her touch. “Well met. Call me Rahel.”

  “Good, that’s fewer syllables. Call me Candini. Captain Serrado says I can learn a lot from you. I’ve already got questions.”

  “This will be easy,” Serrado remarked. “I thought I might have to guide the conversation, but it looks like I can just throw you in a room together.”

  “As long as there’s food,” Candini said.

  “And shannel,” Rahel added.

  “You have shannel here?”

  “Captain Serrado does.”

  “But I don’t share,” Serrado said. “Except with the truly deserving. Come on.” She wheeled around.

  “Are you saying I’m not deserving?” Candini demanded, following close on her heels.

  Rahel listened to them banter all the way out of the bay and up three decks to the meeting room, leaving her wildly curious about their history. In her experience, Captain Serrado didn’t allow such familiarity with anyone other than Dr. Wells and Commander Lokomorra.

  “Oh, we go way back,” Candini said when she asked. “We met when I was a lieutenant junior grade and she was a lieutenant commander. Who was very much out of uniform.”

  “And off duty,” Serrado added. “Wearing a uniform in that bar would have been asking for trouble.”

  They were clustered around one end of a conference table, enjoying the view of the shuttle bay offered by the large window. Serrado couldn’t seem to keep her eyes off the white fighter.

  “You asked for it anyway.” Candini tapped Rahel’s shoulder. “Something you should know about the captain. She’s a rescuer at heart. She can’t turn her back on something she thinks needs fixing.”

  “What happened?”

  “It was a rough bar. In the part of the station where officers shouldn’t go. Especially high-ranking officers.”

  “I heard the food was good,” Serrado said easily.

  “The food was fantastic. So was the gambling. I won a few games too many, and one of the other players took exception to it.”

  “She’s forgetting to mention that the other player was twice her size.”

  Candini waved a hand. “I could have taken her.”

  “Arms like this.” Serrado indicated a shape the size of a large tree branch. “And scarred knuckles.”

  “A fighter,” Rahel translated.

  “She was looking for an excuse,” Serrado agreed. “Candini gave it to her.”

  “Did you cheat?”

  “Only a little bit.”

  “Don’t try that on Alsea.”

  Candini shook her head. “With a bunch of empaths? Besides, those days are behind me.”

  “Good to hear,” Serrado said with emphasis.

  “Anyway, she laid me out across the table with one punch. Before I could get up and pay her back for it—which I would have—this one was standing in front of her.” Candini jerked her thumb in Serrado’s direction. “It was like a vallcat kitten facing off against a mountzar.”

  Rahel appreciated her use of Alsean comparators. Mountzars were massive beasts, apex predators of higher altitudes.

  “I take offense to that description,” Serrado said. “I’m not a kitten.”

  “No, you’re a Fleet officer who can’t stand an unfair fight no matter where it happens.” Candini turned back to Rahel. “She lectured that woman on ethics and suggested she fight someone her own size. The mountzar didn’t take kindly to the suggestion and tried to lay her out next to me. Next thing I know, there’s a huge crash and that woman was out for the night.”

  Serrado smiled. “The bigger they are, the harder they fall. I used her size against her.”

  “Caught her arm and redirected?” Rahel could picture it.

  “And stuck out my foot for good measure. She tripped and went headfirst into the table. Candini had just managed to roll off it.”

  “Thank the Seeders for that, or I’d have been out for the night, too. Though that might have been an improvement over the lecture I got on cheating in a bar where the patrons were less than forgiving.”

  “You lectured a stranger?”

  “She’s like that,” Candini said.

  Serrado practically glowed with smug enjoyment. “No, I’m only like that with officers under my command.”

  “But you didn’t know until I introduced myself—” Candini stopped, a tendril of suspicion rising. “Wait a minute.”

  “I had just been transferred to a new ship. I was on the station waiting to be picked up. While I waited, I naturally memorized the files of the officers in my section—”

  “Naturally,” Candini muttered.

  “—and learned we had a pilot with too much ego and too little respect for authority. My section chief said he didn’t know what to do with her, but he couldn’t let her go because she was our best.”

  It was Candini’s turn to be smug.

  “So I decided that if she wouldn’t respect rank, maybe I could earn her respect another way.”

  “You set me up?!”

  “Of course not. How was I supposed to make you cheat at kasmet? I only planned for our first meeting to be outside Fleet boundaries. Somewhere we could get to know each other before rank got in the way. Then you got yourself in trouble and handed me the perfect solution.”

  “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

  Serrado leaned forward, suddenly all business. “You wouldn’t have seen it for what it was. Not until now, when you’re in the same place I was then. You’ve got a reputation to earn, and this time it can’t be based solely on your flying skills. Though that’s a good place to start. Find out what they respect and show them why they should respect you. Don’t depend on your rank.”

  Candini’s emotional signature flickered through surprise, annoyance, and a brief hint of hurt before settling on rueful admiration.

  “Good advice, thanks. It doesn’t change what you did, though. I may have been your subordinate, but we were off duty. You weren’t responsible for me. You could have let her turn out my lights and then come to my rescue, without risking yourself. And called it a lesson learned.”

  “Then I’d have had to drag your unconscious carcass out of there. It’s easier when they can walk.”

  Rahel watched them laugh together and wondered if Candini realized what Serrado had done. It was such a seamless shift from friend to mentor and back again that she thought it might have gone unnoticed.

  An unexpected longing pierced her, carrying the sting of envy in its tail. Candini’s relationship with Captain Serrado was reminiscent of her own with Shantu, but with the warmth of friendship in place of parental authority. How different her life could have been . . .

  “How did you earn your respect?” Candini asked, interrupting her dark thoughts. “I mean, as an Alsean on a Gaian crew.”

  “I beat up seven security officers.”

  Candini stared slack-jawed. “At the same time?”

  “In about twenty seconds,” Serrado confirmed. “Saved me weeks of calculation and effort.”

  “You never told me that.” Rahel was stunned by the pride hitting her senses. That had certainly not been apparent when Serrado punished her.

  “It wouldn’t have been appropriate then. Yes, I needed you to prove yourself. I didn’t expect it to take that form, but it was effective.”

  “Huh.” Candini looked at the captain thoughtfully. “I’m seeing a theme here. Didn’t you earn Lancer Tal’s respect by meeting her in an honor challenge?”

  “You did?” Rahel barely managed to keep her own jaw shut.

  “On second thought, it might be dangerous to leave you two in a room together,” Serrado muttered.

  “Ha! You haven’t told her that story?” Candini turned to Rahel. “I read Lhyn’s book. She had a lot to say about warrior honor, and a whole section on the way honor challenges can resolve disagreements that would otherwise infect a unit. Or cause political consequences,” she added, tilting her head toward the captain. “Gave me a new appreciation for what Captain Serrado did. It was genius, really.”

  “It was idiotic, and I don’t recommend it for your purposes,” Serrado said flatly. Her expression morphed into a smirk. “But if you do, don’t hit them on the cheekbones.”

  13

  Gunner

  Serrado did eventually leave them alone together, and Rahel spent a pleasant half hour answering questions. After all those months as the trainee, it was a nice change to be the instructor. Candini had a quick mind, grasping concepts with an ease that reminded her of Lhyn. But where Lhyn would dive into a topic and make ever-deeper connections within it, Candini skated on the surface, darting from one subject to the next. It was a different flavor of communication than she was used to, but she liked the energy of it and was disappointed when they had to stop for the presentation to the fighter crews.

  “Captain Serrado made me your duty assignment this morning, right?” Candini asked.

  “For as long as you need me, yes.”

  “Good. Come with me and see what I’m doing.”

  In the auditorium, Rahel sat near the back wall and was startled by the number of crew members taking their seats. Given that the Phoenix carried thirty each of single-seat and two-seater fighters, she expected sixty pilots and thirty gunners to attend. By the time Candini began to speak, there were close to one hundred and forty filled seats.