Author: Tower Curator

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“Captain. I have purchased a pair of Phalanx CIWS autocannons and a crew to install them. However, I do not trust the installation team. I’m counting on you and the rest of the Lunar Dial to keep them out of the ship proper. If they claim they need to get inside to hook up systems or whatever, kick them off the ship. If they need to access anything other than the bolt holes on the top of the deck, kick them off the ship. They are to mount the cannons and nothing else. I’ve already spoken with Ewan down in engineering. He can direct the other engineers into integrating them with the ship proper. I don’t even want them pissing aboard our ship. Am I understood?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Good.” Alice clasped her hands behind her back as she paced around the meeting room. “Doc will require an escort of at least three, she is heading inland to pick up medical supplies. Gideon will be accompanying her as one of the three. I trust you to figure out who the other two are.”

“I will get on it right away.”

“Dismissed. Gideon, Doc, you can go get ready as well.”

Alister wasn’t entirely sure how much more ready they needed to get. Gideon looked ready to be air-dropped behind enemy lines in the middle of Afghanistan. He had a full set of body armor, his CTAR, a sidearm, goggles, and a helmet. Doc wore what she always wore, a white laboratory coat that matched her hair and a black turtleneck half-hidden underneath. She did have a pistol holstered under her arm and the outlines of much thinner body armor under her turtleneck, but nothing nearly so heavy as what Gideon had. Despite Gideon’s armaments, they were only going to pick up some supplies. It shouldn’t be dangerous.

That didn’t mean they wouldn’t be careful. Especially not with their unknown assailant outside Gibraltar. It had been just over a full week and he hadn’t found a thing on that ship. Granted, without more than the colors and its shape as a yacht, he didn’t really have much to go off. He had thrown out a few feelers with a few of his old contacts in the British Army that were still willing to speak with him, but no one had any reports about a black and white missile-armed yacht off the coast of Spain.

He knew that Alice had contacted her brother about it as well. She kept a lot of cards close to her chest, but something like this, she would have mentioned something to him. Which meant that she didn’t know anything either. Considering her family’s information network, that was saying something.

It was one of the main reasons he hadn’t protested the new defensive cannons. Port authorities wouldn’t like them, but that was what tarps were for. It wasn’t like they would keep them active around coasts. Or even anywhere near possibly friendly ships. Phalanx didn’t have any sort of friend-foe differential. If the systems detected anything that looked like a missile on an intercept course with the Lunar Dial, they would open fire. In fact, they would be keeping the guns offline most of the time. Accidentally shooting down a passenger aircraft that was just passing just low enough overhead would spell the death of Raven Defensive Systems.

But if they spotted a suspicious ghost on their radar again, he- everyone would feel much safer with automated turrets. Even Alister hadn’t raised an objection when Alice bought them. Perhaps it had been out of shock over seeing the explosions and Holly’s injuries. Either way, the turrets were paid for. Too late to change their mind. Mostly.

“As for the rest of you, you’re all with me. That includes you, XO.”

Alister couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. “You don’t want me on mission control this time?”

“With splitting our party to deal with the resupply, the Phalanx installation, and the delivery, I think we need an extra gun on the cases. Don’t worry, it’s just a—”

“Stop!” Flash said, paying attention to the meeting for the first time since it had started. “Don’t say the s-word.”

“Your silly superstitions,” Alice said with a sad shake of her head. “Anyway, the rest of you are with me.” She pointed a laser back at the map of the coast of Mexico. “We’ll be heading north for several klicks until we meet up with Francesca. We’ll transfer the crates from her lifeboat to the truck at point Alpha. From there, we will transit to Bravo, meet with our contact, and drop off the crates. Afterwards, we will return here. If we are stopped for any reason, I don’t mind if we have to pay someone off. Get ready, Mayhem,” she said with a deliberate nod toward Tatyana, “Flash, XO, and… hmmm. You need a code name.”

Dorothy, who had barely been paying attention, jolted at being directly addressed. “Me?” she said, voice higher pitched than normal. “No, no, no. I’m not- I’m not like you people.” Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. “Look, I appreciate you getting me away from those men, but I’m not a- a- a gun person. I don’t know- I don’t want to know what you people do. I just want to go home.”

“I agree,” Alister said. “She has no training. No combat experience. Have you ever fired a gun before?”

She looked up at him with welcome relief filling her eyes that someone was agreeing with her. “No! Never. The closest I’ve come is laser tag at—”

Alister waved off her anecdote. No amount of laser tag could possible prepare someone for proper combat and where she played the game hardly mattered. “Alice. You can’t expect everyone—or anyone—to be like you. Not only that, but we can’t just… We need to take her home.” As much as Dorothy seemed grateful that Alice had saved her from whatever assassins they had come across, they really were blurring the line between rescuing and kidnapping the longer they kept her aboard when she clearly didn’t want to be here.

After the missile attack by the black and white ship, Dorothy had freaked out, quite understandably. She had all but demanded they turn the Lunar Dial around right then and there, only relenting when it was explained that turning around would mean getting close to that ship again. The Lunar Dial could have detoured to another port, but they were under a time limit to deliver the cases. In a business like theirs, upsetting the customer could wind up with far more deadly consequences than simply a lack of future patronage. The people he had spoken with had not sounded like the patient sorts, to put it lightly. Keeping everything copacetic was one of his primary jobs and between finishing the delivery or dropping Dorothy off somewhere, he had chosen the former.

Once they were finished, he would insist they return her home. Perhaps just a quick jaunt up to Florida where they could send her off with a bit of cash for a flight home or wherever she wanted to go. Until then, the Lunar Dial should be the safest place for her.

Should being the operative word. Something in the way Alice was pouting had him reconsidering. “Why do you think she needs to come with us?”

“Just a feeling I’ve got. Leaving her here would be bad for everyone.”

Alister scowled. “Is the Lunar Dial in danger? Should I have the captain take us back out to sea?” Most people who didn’t know Alice would probably dismiss her occasional feelings. The crew, on the other hand, often joked that she was psychic. Alister wouldn’t go to that extreme, but he had to admit that her instincts could be counted on. Sometimes.

Alice shook her head. “I want those Phalanx systems. We aren’t leaving without them. No. I like the idea of Dorothy going with us. Between us four, we can keep her safe. Get her outfitted and be ready in twenty.”

“But—”

“Overruled.”

“Tough luck,” Flash said with a pitying glance toward Dorothy. Any pity he might have meant was quickly nullified by his chuckle at the sour look she had on.

“Flash, Mayhem, XO. We’re going in outfitted to carry on an entire war on our own.”

The laughter cut off with a choke. “Aw man. I knew this job was a bad one.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll buy you an ice cream. Let’s go. I want us off the Lunar Dial in twenty minutes.” She made eye contact with everyone at the table except for Dorothy, who had her eyes glued to her lap, before nodding her head. “Dismissed.”

Flash and Tatyana left immediately, the former grumbling under his breath while the latter sported a wide grin. How Tatyana knew what was going on or what to do was anyone’s guess. Alister suspected that she actually could speak English and just chose not to in order to spite him in particular. Alice followed the two out after a parting glance at Dorothy and a subtle nod to Alister.

Which just left him and the linguist. With a sigh, he placed a hand on the girl’s shoulder. The girl’s shaking shoulder. She jumped slightly at his touch. “Come on,” he said. “We need to fit you for some body armor.”

“But I thought you agreed with me?”

“I do. It’s just that Alice is usually right. There is a reason so many ex-military soldiers are willing to trust her and it isn’t because she is a fool. Come on,” Alister said, helping her to her feet. “You won’t want to head out without any armor.”

The Lunar Dial’s armory wasn’t far from the meeting room. Dorothy’s footsteps weren’t as steady as they normally were, but they made it without much trouble. Both Flash and Tatyana were inside, getting geared up. Flash was checking over a submachine gun. He had a sidearm at his hip and had several grenades of varying types poking out of a small backpack. It was somewhat surprising that he hadn’t slung an M79 over his shoulder but- Oh, wait, there he goes. He kept begging Alice to get him some of the American’s fancy ‘smart’ grenade launchers or even just a Milkor MGL, but she kept finding excuses not to. Probably worried that he would wind up blowing up the ship in a fit of over excitement. A perfectly valid concern in Alister’s opinion.

As for Tatyana, well, Mayhem wasn’t her nom de guerre for no reason. It would be easier to take an inventory of what the armory had that she hadn’t equipped. Alice telling her to be ready to fight as a one-woman-army might have been a mistake. She had her trusty KSVK rifle slung over one shoulder, a pair of handguns, one under each arm, and another pair in hip holsters, an assault rifle slung down by her hip, a knife strapped against each boot and one at her back, and just a pair of grenades tucked into a pouch. Just when Alister thought she was done, she reached for a shotgun. The fact that she could even carry all that stuff along with extra magazines in pouches all over her clothing, even if she had taken the thinnest armor available, was a testament to her strength. Actually being able to use it despite the encumbrance of having a weapon tucked in every nook and cranny was another thing entirely.

“You do know that you have to fit in the truck, right?” Flash had been eying her out of the corner of his eye. The shotgun was the last straw for him. “Understand? Tiny truck.” He made vrooming noises with his mouth as he mock drove, then mimed a small box. “We all have to fit in it. Leave some room for me.”

Tatyana stared at him for a moment before shaking her head. The message apparently got through as she put the shotgun back on the rack, though she didn’t miss the opportunity to scowl at Flash in the process. Still, she didn’t bother replacing any of her other many weapons.

For his part, Alister was perfectly happy with his SA80 and a sidearm. Standard. Unoriginal, maybe. But it was what he had been trained in using.

And a good thing too. He had to figure out what Dorothy needed to wear. She wouldn’t get any weapons. Handing an untrained and easily panicked girl even an airsoft pistol would end up disastrous. She would probably find a way to shoot and kill either herself or one of the crew before she managed to hit anyone who counted as an enemy.

So armor only.

Most of the armor in the armory was stored away in personnel lockers. Everyone had different sizes and had their straps pulled to different amounts that fit them. There were a few spares left out, but most of them were meant for bigger and more muscular individuals. Dorothy was on the skinnier side. Most of her exercise probably came from walking around her school’s campus more than any real trips to the gym.

A metal plate was a metal plate regardless of the size. People might think that a bigger plate would be easier to hide behind, but the fact was that if someone didn’t have the strength to carry around a slab of metal the size of their body, they would end up becoming a sitting duck. Sitting ducks were dead ducks. Rather than use any of the generic armor, Alister popped open Holly’s locker. The cloth had been mended and a fresh plate of AR500 had been inserted where the shrapnel had stuck. It was good to go. She and Dorothy had similar height even if Holly had significantly more muscle and, while she was still recovering, Holly wouldn’t be using her armor any time soon. Alister made a mental note to let Holly know before he left so that she wouldn’t waste her time with her locker in the hopefully unlikely case there was an emergency on board.

“You were in the military?” Dorothy asked as he helped her slip into the armor. Even though the two were roughly the same size, Holly had a great deal more muscle and a bit smaller chest, resulting in some straps that needed readjusting.

“British Army,” he said as he worked. “Technically, I was more of an InfoSec guy, but I did complete basic training and maintained my physical fitness. Not to mention Gideon’s ‘training’ he puts everyone through who he thinks needs it. He is more of a Drill Sergeant to me than my actual D-Sarge” Alister smiled at his little joke, but apparently Dorothy didn’t get it.

“InfoSec?”

“I was a computer guy,” Alister said, dumbing it down the way he would have back when he still attended family functions.

Dorothy just nodded like that explained everything. “Everyone else is from the army as well?”

“Not quite,” Flash said, walking around Dorothy like he was some sort of inspector. “Some of us are from our country’s navy or air force.”

“Flash doesn’t have a military background at all,” Alister clarified.

“After everything the old man puts me through? I think I’ve qualified for the honorary Israeli Special Forces club.”

“You run away and hide from him half the time.”

Flash gave a casual shrug. “Maybe if he wasn’t such a hard-ass all the time…”

“Don’t let Gideon hear you.”

“So what were you then?” Dorothy asked as the pair fell into silence.

Shooting Alister a look, which he responded with a shrug, Flash frowned down at the girl. “Let’s just say that I disagreed with Cuba’s government on a few minor matters.”

“Explosively disagreed.”

“Yeah… I don’t think I’d be able to go back home without meeting the open arms of a firing squad.”

“Oh. I’m sorry,” Dorothy said with a slight shudder.

“Don’t be. I might have been young and foolish, but I don’t regret my decisions.” His eyes darkened ever so slightly as he glanced off to one side.

When Flash didn’t resume speaking, and Dorothy had shifted awkwardly back and forth as Alister swapped out her shoes for some steel-toed boots, she glanced over to the other person in the room. “What about her? Mayhem? Is that her name?”

At hearing her nom de guerre, Tatyana glanced over. She didn’t say anything, she just raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t know,” Alister admitted honestly. “I assume so. About the military training. Her name is Tatyana.”

“You assume? Isn’t she your teammate or something?”

Alister frowned, not entirely sure how much he could or should say. At the edge of his vision, he could see Tatyana quirk her lips. He didn’t know if she could understand the conversation or not, but it was clearly making him uncomfortable and that gave her some amusement. Well, here went nothing. “One day, she just started walking around and acting like part of the crew. Which was after fighting with us for some time. Caused quite the stir, but Alice said that she was fine with it.”

“But you never asked about her history or anything?”

“No one here speaks Russian except for her.”

“Have you never heard of Google Translate?” Dorothy asked with an incredulous sort of exasperation.

Frankly, Alister doubted that Tatyana would have responded had they used any kind of translation software. She never answered any written messages and only ever responded with belittling remarks to Gideon even though he was the only one who was trying to learn her language.

Before Alister could respond as such, Dorothy leaned around and locked eyes with Tatyana. “Вы служили в армии? Чем вы там занимались?”

Tatyana blinked in a rare display of confusion before her black lips curled back. It wasn’t really a smile, but it was close enough. “Ага, я – киллер.”

The blood drained from Dorothy’s face, which only made Tatyana’s not-smile widen. Dorothy’s eyes flicked all over the arsenal strapped to Tatyana’s body before trying to subtly hide behind Alister again. “O-Oh,” she said in a whisper.

Tatyana breathed out through her nose slightly harder than normal in what might have been a laugh as she strode out of the armory.

“So,” Flash said. “What’d grumpy say?”

“Ah- Assassin. She’s an assassin?”

“Makes sense.” With the most nonchalant nod of his head, Flash glanced at Alister and gave another slight shrug before heading out to follow her.

Alister had been hoping for something a bit more specific. He had already known that much about Tatyana. But, maybe he could convince Dorothy to ask a few more questions before they dropped her off in Florida. For now, he seated a helmet on her head and adjusted the chin strap. “Alright,” he said. “If something does happen, keep your head down. Doc can fix your arms and legs relatively easy—” as long as she wasn’t hit by anything too maiming, but no need to tell her that. “It’s what is here,” he tapped her chest, “and here,” he tapped her head, “that’s most important.”

Dorothy had seemed to calm down a bit while he had been armoring her up. Maybe the conversation had been distracting enough. But now, with that assassin quip, she had locked up tight once again.

Of course she had. She had mentioned fleeing from assassins with Alice back in Greece. But, nothing to do about it now. After getting his gear together, he gave her a light pat on the back and started leading her out to the waiting truck.

Author’s Notes:

Character Page updated.

“Вы были в армии? Что ты сделал?” — “Were you in the army? What did you do?”

“Да. Я убийца.” — “Yeah. I am an assassin.”

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The Lunar Dial had no mounted weaponry. It was hard enough stopping in ports around the world as it was. The ship was registered as a luxury yacht in most of their frequented civilian destinations even though it was a customized K130 Braunschweig class corvette. Unlike most yachts, the ship had a distinct militaristic profile. Even random civilians would point to the Lunar Dial and think that it was a military ship. Trying to pull into a dock with a 76mm gun sitting on the deck, several autocannons, and a bunch of anti-ship missiles would only make things worse. Not to mention how poorly that would go over with local authorities. That wasn’t to say that they were entirely unarmed.

From the bridge, he watched as the crew assembled on deck. The primary means of countering enemy vessels was a combination of mortars and shoulder-fired missiles. Both were easily portable and, most importantly, easily hidden below deck. There were problems, however. Simple unguided munitions were nearly worthless at any kind of range at sea. Between both the target and the Lunar Dial moving and rocking with the sea’s waves, the chance of hitting something else was a million to one even for trained operators. Alice spared no expense when it came to the security of the Lunar Dial and its crew. She always wanted technology on the cutting edge. Alister frequently had to talk her down to something more affordable. Raven Defensive Systems Incorporated had wealthy bank accounts, but they wouldn’t stay like that if Alice had her way. The ship’s defense was not one of those cases. They would be sitting ducks for any one of their many enemies out on the open ocean.

So their ship-to-ship weapons were of the expensive variety. M395 Precision Guided Mortar Munitions used GPS guidance to hit their target. They still had to be aimed in the proper direction, but the projectile would take care of the rest. The missile launchers were much the same. Technically, they were anti-tank missiles, but they worked just fine so long as the enemy didn’t shoot them down.

At least, they should work. In the five years he had worked for Alice, they hadn’t actually gotten into any naval combat. Not on the Solar Dial, nor on the Lunar Dial. He hoped today would not be the first incident.

“Sir. Bearing 214, range 2560 meters. They must have some absorptive paint as they keep flickering in and out on the radar.”

Alister sighed as he picked up his binoculars. He had been hoping the radar ping had just been a phantom. Some random noise that managed to get blasted from somewhere, whether that be another ship or even some coastal noise maker. Scanning the indicated area, sure enough, there was a ship out there. Not a military ship, for which Alister breathed a sigh of relief. For all that they had decent offensive weaponry, shooting down incoming missiles was a job relegated to a pair of manually aimed miniguns. He made a mental note to figure out some way to hide some autocannons on the deck sometime soon.

While the vessel wasn’t military in design, it wasn’t something Alister recognized either. Not a freighter or fishing vessel. It actually looked a lot like the old Solar Dial. A fancy yacht. This one lacked any special logos or identifying markings on the sides. The entire thing was painted black and white. Striped at odd angled. Dazzle camouflage.

Dazzle camo was an odd sort of thing. A relic of the past, for the most part. By painting a ship with abstract stripes, it became incredibly difficult to determine its course. Radar had ruined that sort of camouflage. It didn’t care about what color the ship was. With radar absorbing paint and a hull form that deflected radio waves, perhaps there was some meaning to it in the modern era, but no proper military used it.

“It’s heading right toward us, is it?” Alister asked.

“Yes, sir.”

Alister clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Speed?”

“Matching ours at twenty knots.”

The captain stepped up beside him at the bridge’s windows, watching out with his own binoculars. “What do you make of it?”

“I don’t like it. Is it just following us? Or are they maintaining their distance while they ready some weapon?”

“They are within mortar range.”

“We’re not going to bomb what could be some rich asshole’s private boat.”

“I’m just saying. They’re in range of our unconventional weaponry…”

“So we could be in their range,” Alister finished. He started humming in thought for a moment, content to watch a while longer. It was far enough away and the angle wasn’t the best, he couldn’t actually see on the yacht’s deck. That really only served to worsen his worries. “How fast can we get moving?”

The captain lowered his binoculars, looking around the windows to the front of the Lunar Dial as he scratched at the scruff on his chin. “The water’s calm today. Assuming that doesn’t change, I’d say we could get up to fifty-five knots for four, maybe five hours if we really push the engine.”

“Do it.” With any luck, the ship would fall back. Either because they couldn’t match such a high speed or because they didn’t want to give chase. Whatever the reason, Alister would feel much better if they didn’t have someone sitting on their tail.

As the captain turned back to relay other commands both to the other members of the bridge and over the intercom, Alister stepped outside. The bridge didn’t have a full three-sixty view. A radar tower sat directly behind, obscuring a fair chunk of the sea. As the captain turned the ship to head directly away from the vessel, he wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on it from the bridge.

He didn’t go far. The radar was far more accurate than his own vision and he wanted to be well within earshot of the bridge crew. Still, there was merit to keeping his own eyes on it. There were ways of fooling, spoofing, or simply jamming radar. Which might be why they had the dazzle paint in the first place.

Others, especially those manning the defenses, would be keeping watch on it too. But Alister felt that someone in command should be watching as well. The sad fact was that the Lunar Dial just didn’t have the numbers to properly man the craft. A normal K130 fielded a crew of about sixty-five, give or take. They only had twenty-five, including Alice and Dorothy, neither of whom were actually around and the latter wouldn’t be of much help in any situation. Neither would Doc, for that matter. Not unless an enemy force actually got aboard the ship. Flash, Gideon, and Tatyana were all down on the deck, ready to assist with the defense. Beyond them, five were in the bridge, five down in the CIC, three were engineers more than fighters and were likely hanging around the engine room. That only left five standard crew members to properly defend, all of whom had other duties under normal circumstances.

Luckily, it looked like that might not be needed. As the Lunar Dial’s engines revved up and propelled the ship through the waters, the black and white yacht started shrinking into the horizon. He kept watching until there was only a small bit left that, for all he knew, could have been nothing more than a mirage. Lowering the binoculars, he headed back into the bridge. “Report.”

“Target maintaining twenty knots.” Walter had his hand to his ear, listening to the men down in the CIC. “No signs of acceleration.”

“Good.” He felt a little of the tension drain from his shoulders, but something still wasn’t sitting right with him. It was Alice. She had mentioned having a bad feeling. Her feelings weren’t usually wrong. “Keep us at our current speed for one hour.” No sense relaxing just yet. “If there is no sign of them after that, we’ll—”

“Sir! Three radar contacts rapidly approaching.”

The captain didn’t even wait for Alister’s orders. Alarms started blaring all throughout the ship and the captain shouted into the intercom. “Incoming missiles, bearings 184, 186, 188. Altitude—”

Alister ran out as the whir of miniguns cut through the air. Blinding white tracer rounds fired off, chasing after the three smoke trails of incoming missiles. The guns ate long belts of brass, spitting out hundreds of spent casings on the other side where they fell with a clatter across the helipad.

Gideon stood on the center of the helipad. He had a CTAR-21 assault rifle in his hands, though not aimed up toward the missiles. At this range, it would just be a waste of bullets. Flash stood closer to the mortars, unarmed aside from the rack of mortar shells strapped to his back. Tatyana was a blur of motion, sprinting across the helipad. She jumped onto the radar mast, scaling the exterior using the tiniest rivets as handholds and footholds.

The missiles were getting in close. He could actually see them with his naked eyes, if barely. They were rapidly becoming clearer and larger. Ten seconds to impact.

One stream of white-hot tracers cut through a missile. It fell from the sky in pieces without exploding, causing nothing more than tiny splashes as they hit the water.

The second exploded an instant later as the other minigun connected with it. Smoke and fire filled the sky.

The third and final missile rocketed out of the fireball, angling down in its final approach.

Alister could feel his heart hammering in his chest as one set of tracers joined the other in an attempt to shoot down the final missile. He held his breath as the stream of bullets crossed just a hair too high.

The gunners tried to correct, pulling down their fire.

It was too late. The missile was coming it. It—

A single sharp crack echoed through the air, louder even than the constant whine of the miniguns. A thundering boom rattled the ship as the missile exploded, sending the crew on the helipad diving for cover as bits of shrapnel rained down.

He breathed in, then released it as a small sigh of relief.

With one arm looped around an antenna sticking off the radar tower, Tatyana continued staring down the sight of her KSVK for several moments before slinging it onto her back. She jumped from the tower, falling several meters to the flight deck. Landing in a crouch among the debris, she turned ever so slightly. He caught the ghost of a smile on her lips before she turned and stalked off toward the end of the Lunar Dial.

Alister couldn’t help the frown the touched his lips. He did not like Tatyana. She knew he didn’t like her and he knew that she knew. Frankly, he didn’t know what she was doing aboard the ship. Especially after what she had done. Alice not only let her stay, but she let her join in on the inner circle’s meetings. Alister doubted that Tatyana really got much out of the meetings. They spoke in English and Tatyana apparently only knew Russian. Something that Alice had confirmed and Alice was usually right about those sorts of things. No one on the ship save for Tatyana spoke Russian. Perhaps that was why Alice had insisted that Dorothy join the crew, even as a temporary member. Someone could finally translate for them.

So he didn’t like the assassin. Yet, at this particular moment, he could go up and kiss her right on the lips. Even if she had just been saving herself more than trying to save anyone else, she had wound up saving the ship. He wouldn’t kiss her, of course. Alister enjoyed not being stabbed too much to get too close to the woman. It was the thought that counted.

The cloud of smoke from the final missile obscured a good deal of the sea. Enough that he couldn’t see clearly beyond. Alister headed turned back to the bridge. “Report,” he said immediately.

Walter, with one hand pressed to his earphone, turned and said, “Sir. No additional contacts. No sign of enemy vessel, it never gave chase.”

“They were trying to cripple us,” the captain said. “Once they saw us accelerate, they realized that they wouldn’t be able to keep up.”

“Keep us going at our current speed. If there’s no sign of them in two hours, we can stand down.” He looked over the bridge crew. To their credit, none of them looked panicked in the slightest. Of course, they hadn’t seen how close the missile actually got. CIC had likely been reading off distances, but numbers just didn’t have the same meaning compared with seeing it in person. “I need to get down to the flight deck, ensure there are no injuries. If anything comes up… you know what to do.” So long as the captain was around, Alister really wasn’t needed in the minute to minute operating of the ship. Just the more executive decisions. And those were mostly Alice’s domain anyway.

Back out on the helipad, Alister surveyed the damage. To the ship, it looked mostly superficial. He would get the engineers up to take a look at everything later. For the moment, he was more concerned about the girl Doc was leaning over. Holly White. One of the two gunners who had shot down the first two missiles. It had been a bit chaotic toward the end, but thinking back, her minigun had been firing right up until the very last second rather than diving for cover. She hadn’t hit it—Tatyana had definitely been the one to end the final missile—but that she had been able to shoot down one was impressive enough.

Of course, Ernie had shot one down as well. He wasn’t injured at the moment, but commending both of them would be important later on. Hopefully Holly would survive until then. And well after.

Bits of shrapnel stuck out of her vest. Nothing too large. Pockmarks for the most part. One spot near her throat where the armor didn’t reach was bleeding. Another blood trail dripped down the side of her face where something had skimmed her cheek. Her goggles were cracked, but nothing had penetrated.

“How is she?”

“The trachea injury is the most serious,” Doc said. “She is breathing right now, but she may drown on her own blood if the shrapnel cut too much. It’s exceedingly close to her carotid. I need to get her to the infirmary immediately.”

As soon as she finished speaking, Gideon ran up carrying a scoop stretcher. He set it down just to the side of Holly.

“Careful not to move her head. The shrapnel is still inside. We don’t want it cutting in further or coming loose, allowing unobstructed blood flow.”

Gideon nodded, separating the sides of the stretcher. He slid it under her body, carefully closing the two halves again. Several straps had to be tightened around her before she could be moved. Especially the ones that kept her head steady. Doc leaned in close to further examine the injury as Gideon took care of tying her down. Alister kept Holly from accidentally moving on her own, quietly whispering reassurances in her ear. Once secure, he grasped the handles at her head. Gideon took the foot end. “On three?”

“Two, three.”

They hefted the stretcher up, keeping it nice and level. The ship’s infirmary wasn’t far—by design, no one wanted to climb through narrow passages and ladder shafts to get medical attention. It was right on the main level, just past the hangar. Doc followed close behind.

The infirmary was a large room. A set of bunk beds lined one wall while a pair of operating tables occupied most of the floor. Heavy lights hung from the ceiling. Cabinets, drawers, and shelves held all manner of medical equipment. From heart monitors and defibrillators to cough drops, Doc kept the place stocked with as much as possible for as many occasions as possible.

While Alister and Gideon set the stretcher down on one of the operating tables, Doc ran to the tools and started pulling them out by the fistful. Dropping a lead blanket over Holly’s face, she pulled the x-ray machine over and snapped a quick shot. Before the image had even appeared on one of the nearby computers, she shoved the tools down Holly’s throat. First was a breathing tube then some suction device that kept the blood from pooling.

Alister and Gideon stuck around, watching. Both had medical training, though Alister’s was just basic first aid. Still, they were the two most qualified people aboard to act as assistants. Doc didn’t ask for much. The occasional tool that was just out of reach or for Gideon to hold a portion of Holly’s throat open with separators.

Alice entered the room ten minutes into the surgery lacking any sort of amusement or her usual perpetual smile. She moved up to the operating table, looking over the hole in Holly’s throat without a single expression crossing her face. Anger radiated off her in almost visible waves. It was a cool sort of rage, but Alister could tell. He had known her long enough. Someone had attacked their ship and had hurt her crew. They had lost a ship before, but no one had been aboard at the time. This was an attack designed to kill.

“How is Holly?”

“Lucky,” Doc said without looking up from her work. “Her prognosis would be better if I am not interrupted.”

Nodding, Alice spun on her heel without another word and left the room.

Author’s notes:

Character Page updated.

<– Back | Index | Next –>

<– Back | Index | Next –>

Alister leaned over the railing surrounding the Lunar Dial’s helipad, watching the ship’s wake mar the otherwise glassy ocean. There were two trucks and a modified humvee strapped down, but they didn’t occupy too much of the overall space. The flight deck didn’t see much use except perhaps as an exercise area when the weight room got a little too stuffy for the crew. For the most part, the exercise room held only weights. There were two treadmills, but the stuffiness tended to get a bit much for the small room. Though, comparatively speaking, it was one of the larger rooms aboard the ship. It had been designed as a drone hangar. But Alice didn’t have any drones aboard. Or aircraft. She always talked about wanting to get a helicopter, but never had gotten around to it. Aside from exercise, the only other time people were out on the helipad was when they wanted fresh air. Maybe they would read a book or work on their tan. So soon after launching, no one really had the time for recreation just yet. Once everything was sure to be running smoothly, people would begin milling about.

At the moment, it was just him and the new girl.

Alice had given him the honorable duty of babysitting. Just until she got accustomed to the ship. Supposedly. Alister wasn’t sure that she would ever get used to it. Every day that passed only worsened that feeling. Three days had gone by since she had showed up. Two days since they had set out from Greece. And only a few hours since they had finished preparations in Gibraltar and set out to the Atlantic Ocean. It would be over a week before they reached Mexico.

Throughout that whole time, the curly haired girl could be found in one of two places. Either in her assigned bed or sitting on the helipad, sighing to herself as she watched the unchanging scenery. The sheer amount of self pity expressed in each sigh was mind boggling. He had figured that she would snap out of it on her own sooner rather than later. Another sigh from the girl had his eyebrow twitching. He had asked Doc if she could give the girl some therapy, but she had walked away claiming that she wasn’t that kind of doctor. Given that it was a half-hearted attempt to pawn the girl off on someone else, he really couldn’t blame her.

That still left him with the irritating problem of having to listen to her sighs constantly.

“So, Dorothy. What do you do for fun?” That sounded like a good open-ended question. He honestly had no idea what nineteen year old Harvard students did for fun. Especially not these days. When he had been her age, he had been well into enlisting with the British Army with an InfoSec specialty.

After one last sigh, she glanced up at him and started blinking her eyes. With the warm sun at his back fighting off the cool sea breeze, he probably wasn’t the easiest to look at from down below. So he knelt down at her side to give her an easier time.

“Fun?” She turned to look out at the blue ocean with a snort. “Fun. I liked to learn languages.”

“Ah. Alice mentioned that you are a linguistics student.”

“How did she—” Dorothy cut herself off with a shake of her head, turning back out to the ocean.

Alister didn’t find learning languages fun. It was a matter he had experience in, though it had been some time since he learned anything. He had done it once aside from his native English. That was more than enough for him. Still, he put on a smile. Probably best to not mention his personal feelings on the matter. Seeing that she had decided to not continue the conversation, Alister turned his back to the ocean, resting against the fence bordering the helipad so that he could look at the girl as she stared off to the horizon. “Know any good ones? Ich kann Deutsch sprechen. Habe es gelernt, als ich bei der Armee war.”

Dorothy looked to him with a scowl. He had thought that bringing up a bit of German might cheer her up, or at least help take her mind off whatever troubles she had. Apparently he had been mistaken.

“You don’t speak naturally,” she said, looking away from him again. “And the guttural noise in the back of your throat is a bit much. It’s like you learned from movies.”

“Well, I haven’t really used it in ten years or so. My duties in the army mostly dealt with computers. I barely used it then. And we don’t operate much in Germany. Alice prefers Northern Africa, the Middle East, and some parts of Asia.”

“So how is your Arabic or Farsi? Mandarin and standard Chinese?” When Alister didn’t immediately respond, her frown deepened.

“Gideon handles our Arabic usually. We don’t get to mainland China much, more the Philippine Islands and Indonesia. Anyone we deal with there speaks English…” Alister trailed off. That wasn’t strictly true. There were a few of the crew that they could count on to translate if the issue came up. “You never answered the question about which languages you speak,” he said, desperately trying to keep something of a conversation going. This was already the most she had said since showing up, something that might have been at least partially his fault for not engaging her.

“I specialize in English, Mandarin, Spanish, Russian, and Arabic. By specialize, I mean that I believe I can speak them without notable accent. I am fluent in seven additional languages and passable in seventeen others.” She stared for just a moment, eventually letting out another long sigh. “I wasn’t lying when I said that learning languages is my hobby.”

“And you’re only nineteen?”

“Yes. Haha. I know, I have no life. I’ve heard it all before.” She backed away, about to get to her feet.

“No,” Alister said, grabbing her wrist before she could run off. “I wasn’t making fun of you. That’s extremely impressive. Most everyone here speaks at least two languages. Some three and I think Alice speaks four. Just knowing two of the right languages can get you pretty much any government or military job that you want. And you’re only in your first year of college? Impressive might be understating it.”

Dorothy flopped over, letting her short hair spread out over the helipad in a wavy halo behind her head. “What am I even doing here?”

That was a question that Alister had rather been hoping she would answer. Aside from saying that she had rescued Dorothy, Alice had hardly said a word about it. No mention of what or who Dorothy needed rescuing from. An American student originally from the state of Kansas. She was admitted to Harvard right out of high school. Apparently a language genius—Alice had left that bit out of the dossier he had insisted on—with no known ties to any government agency. But whatever reason Alice had to bring her aboard was apparently ‘sensitive’ enough that she didn’t want it getting out among the crew until she had finished her own investigation.

At least Dorothy seemed aware that she wasn’t being kidnapped. They had pulled Maxwell out of a hot zone in the middle of Syria. He had been wounded and half delirious at the time. They pulled him out under enemy fire, having to fight with both the enemy and Maxwell. There hadn’t been enough time to explain. They practically had to sedate him and properly explain things after he awoke. Thankfully, he had been injured and not much good at fighting back. Alister found himself rubbing at a bit of phantom pain where he had gotten a tooth knocked out thanks to the man. That tooth was back in, but it was a dead tooth. He had to have a root canal on it. Not exactly a fun experience.

Unfortunately for delving deeper into Dorothy’s problems, he had been explicitly forbidden from asking questions regarding how she came to be aboard the ship.

“Maybe Alice is planning to drop you off back in America after we finish our delivery mission.” It was a complete guess. Just something that might make her feel a little better about the situation. Trying to puzzle out what Alice was thinking never worked out well. Even when she explicitly declared a course of action, that would be subject to change at her earliest convenience.

“I doubt it. They took my passport. I’ve heard horror stories about people being trapped in airports for thirty years.”

“I think those stories are mostly fiction, but we do specialize in… extra-legal activities. I’m sure we can smuggle you home.”

Dorothy bolted upright, eyes wide with panic. “Home!” Her hand shot toward her pants’ pocket. Tears welled in the corners of her eyes as her hand came out empty. “Please tell me you have a phone.”

“Not many cell towers on the open ocean.” They did have a satellite phone, but just letting her use it was not an option. As much as it seemed that she wasn’t in some sort of spy, there was always the chance. “What’s wrong?”

“They have my passport! What if they figure out where I live? My family, my friends! They could go after them.”

“Calm down. I’m sure Alice has thought of that. We can go ask her and maybe find a way to contact your family and let them know that you’re alright.”

She was on her feet and running across the helipad before Alister had finished speaking. He gave chase, following her up two sets of stairwells to the bridge. A full crew of six, including Alice, were in their positions around the central console. One stood at the radar displays, another at the electronic charts. The pilot and captain chairs were both occupied by Thomas and Edvard respectively while the helmsman stood behind the helm, though his hands were off the wheel. This far away from port, the pilot had control of the ship using the joysticks on his armrests. Behind them all, Alice sat on a raised dais, overseeing everything.

“—following us?”

Dorothy sprinted straight to Alice’s side, latching onto her arm with tears in her eyes. “You have to help me!”

Alice looked her over for just a moment before gasping. “Did Alister touch you inappropriately?” Without even waiting for an answer, she turned her head and wailed out, “Gideon!”

“Would you please get the full story before threatening to throw me off the ship,” Alister said in a flat tone of voice. Gideon wasn’t on the bridge. He probably wasn’t within earshot. If Alice had truly been serious, she would have activated the ship-wide intercom system. Still, Alister felt the need to protest on principle. “We’re not pirates… Well, not usually. And not the type who send people to walk the planks either.”

“You touch anyone and I’ll grab my eye patch and peg leg and you’ll see just how pirate-like I can be,” she said with a disarming smile. “Now, what seems to be the problem, Dorothy?”

“Those people! My bag had my passport in it! And everything else I brought with me including my laptop. They’ll find out where my family live and go after them! I need to—”

“Slow down, slow down. First of all, they aren’t going to chase you halfway around the world to find your family. The information you overheard wasn’t important enough. They’ll just change their plans. Second, the person they were talking about assassinating was my brother. I thought about letting it be a surprise, but in the end, I told him. My brother is probably going to make them all very dead, very soon. If he hasn’t already. Either way, you don’t have anything to worry about. Unless, of course, that is them in our rear-view mirror,” Alice said with a casual wave of her hand toward the radar station. “In which case, I have severely underestimated how mad they were about breaking that one guy’s neck.”

Dorothy turned a little green in the face, shuddering. As Alice patted her on the head, Alister walked over to the radar and leaned over Walter’s shoulder. A few lights blinked here and there but nothing on the main radar. Those few on the console didn’t mean much. Everything looked normal as far as he could tell.

“It was just a light signal on the RWR, sir. Could have been nothing. The CIC is trying to suss more out of it.”

“Could have been nothing my ass,” Alice said. “I have a feeling and I didn’t survive eighteen years by not listening to my instincts. Captain, sound the alert. I want both miniguns set up on the helipad watching the skies immediately.”

“Yes ma’am.” He leaned over to the intercom and hit a few switches. A series of deep alarms started ringing as he picked up the intercom’s microphone. “Action stations, action stations. Condition zulu. Potential hostile ship. Action stations, action stations. Condition zulu. Potential hostile ship.”

“Wh-What’s going on?”

“Nothing you need to worry about.” Alice smiled, taking Dorothy by the hand as she hopped out of her chair. “Come on. We’ll see if we can’t send your family or whoever a message.” Just before reaching the stairs, she threw her dark hair over her shoulder and glanced back. “Try to keep us from sinking, XO.”

Alister sighed as she left, taking her seat at the back center of the bridge. A series of laptops and computer monitors were set up around it, all displaying a cornucopia of information. Some were websites and news reports, most dealing with either Mexico or an investigation regarding a body found with a broken neck in Greece. He dismissed those and focused on the ones relaying information from various parts of the Lunar Dial. It was too much to go through in a hurry, however.

“Alright,” he said to the bridge crew as he started skimming the screens. “Tell me everything.”

Author’s Notes:

Character Page updated.

“Ich kann Deutsch sprechen. Habe es gelernt, als ich bei der Armee war.” — “I can speak German. I learned it when I was in the army.”

RWR — Radar Warning Receiver — A device that detects potentially hostile radar signals.

CIC — Combat Information Center — A room with a bunch of people standing around computers who are trying to figure things out.

<– Back | Index | Next –>

<– Back | Index | Next –>

The hands ticked around the clock, filling the air with a rhythmic noise that reminded everyone how late this meeting was starting. The core crew had assembled, but the boss still hadn’t shown up. She was many things, but late wasn’t one of them. Ten minutes late? Perhaps it was time to send someone to find her.

A pencil rolled down the table, slowed to a crawl, and came back to the edge. It fell off the side, landed in a hand, placed on the edge of the table, starting the process over again. And again, and again, like more clockwork. Someone else thrummed a pencil against their notebook. Another tapped their foot on the metal floor. Everyone here was friends—well, almost everyone. Yet they just sat in silence. Rather, silence would have been better than this noise.

Before Alister could say anything, the door opened, slamming into the wall and sending out a resounding clang as the metal struck metal.

“Welcome back everyone! I hope you all had a wonderful vacation. I know I did! The beaches were warm, the food was exquisite, and I only got shot at three times.”

Around the circular table in the Lunar Dial’s briefing room, everyone exchanged glances as the black haired girl practically skipped inside. Her hair was a frazzled mess far from its usual pristine straightness. The suit she wore was torn and ragged at the cuffs and legs with a large slice through her right sleeve that had a bit of dried blood sticking it to her skin.

Doc stood, pressing her hands against the wood table as she glared at Alice. She didn’t get a chance to actually say anything.

A second girl, dragging her feet into the room just behind Alice, dripped water all over the floor as she entered. Her slightly curled blond hair was matted against her head. It looked like she had fallen overboard, had been fished out of the sea, then had been forced to come along. Which may very well have been what happened.

Around the table, eyes looked to the new girl with thinly veiled suspicion as the boss sat her down in a chair at the table. Alice left for just a moment and reappeared a second later with an extra chair, plopping it down to the right of the sopping wet girl. Alice’s energetic antics did not rub off on the girl. She sat with her shoulders hunched over and avoided eye contact with everyone. Even when first entering the room, she hadn’t looked up once. Her eyes were thoroughly glued to the floor. No one had seen her before, a fact confirmed with a quick glance around the table to gauge everyone’s expression. And, if she kept her eyes down, it was doubtful that she would see anyone else either.

After getting the girl situated, Alice took her own seat. There was no head of a round table, but she still managed to center the attention on herself. Interlacing her fingers, she looked around the assembled crew with a bright smile. When it became clear that Alice wasn’t going to elaborate without prompting, it fell to her second in command to get her talking again.

“Three times? You were shot three times? I thought you were just visiting your brother. That’s the only reason we let you go alone. He didn’t—”

“Alister,” the boss said with a mild warning in her voice, yet puffing out her cheeks in a pout at the same time. “If you’re implying that my brother tried to kill me, I’ll have Gideon toss you overboard.”

Licking his lips, Alister glanced over at the Israeli man. Gideon hadn’t moved a muscle at the threat. Or at all since Alice and the newcomer arrived. He didn’t need to. The former Sayeret Matkal commando was always ready. Despite his advanced age, he had never lost a spar with Alister. And if Alice told him to throw anyone overboard, even her so-called executive officer, there was no doubt that he would. None of the others would try to stop him. They would all have a laugh as Alister climbed back aboard the Lunar Dial as soaking wet as the girl was. With a slight clearing of his throat, Alister turned to face Alice. “I was going to ask if he had let you out of his sight,” he lied.

Once again, a bright smile appeared on her face. “I slipped away! And you should all be thanking me. If I hadn’t, we might not have a job to do today.” She stood, taking a drink from the can of Coke placed in the holder of her seat’s armrest as she glanced at everyone at the table. “Don’t worry, it’s a nice, simple job to ease you back into the swing of things—”

The table descended into a series of groans.

“She just had to say it,” Flash said with a sad shake of his head. “The vacation was only three days. It wasn’t even a real vacation. I didn’t even leave the damn boat.”

“She’s just trying to avoid talking about being shot at,” Doc said, sighing as she stood. “You didn’t get hit, did you?”

Alice jumped back as the doctor rounded the table to inspect the wound on her arm, actually looking a little nervous.

Which only had the doctor sighing again. “I will strap you down to an examination table again if I have to. Now sit up properly and let me look at this.”

“I’m fine, alright? It was just a graze. Not even a proper flesh wound.”

“A graze can still become infected. Dirt and other debris can be caught in the wound, leading to complications with healing including permanent scarring. If infection sets in too deep, we may have to amputate—”

“Yes yes, I get it.”

Doc leaned forward, putting her face mere inches away from Alice’s as she looked over the top of her rectangular glasses. “You will let me examine you.”

“After the meeting. Which would go much faster if you would stop badgering me! Just no shots, okay?”

Doc continued her stare until Alice was squirming under her gaze. “Very well,” Doc said eventually, letting the pressure off. She turned and started back to her seat, but paused halfway around the table. “But if you slip away, don’t come crying to me in a week when your wound is larger than a basketball.”

Alice only hesitated for a moment before returning to her bright attitude. “As I was trying to say, this job is easy and simple.” Running back out into the hall, she returned with a black Pelican case roughly the size of a standard laptop, though far thicker. She hefted it up on the table to ensure everyone had a decent view. It clearly had some weight to it with how much effort she was exerting. After getting it set on the table, she stared anywhere but at Doc as she rubbed at her shoulder beneath her suit sleeve. “We have thirty-seven more of these down in the cargo hold to deliver to a warehouse just outside Tampico, Mexico.”

“Mexico?” Alister said. “Bit outside our usual area of operations, isn’t it?”

“We’re being paid extremely well to travel halfway around the world on such a simple delivery mission.”

“Would you stop saying the damn ‘s’ word? What’s in those cases? C-4 that’s set to go off while we’re in the middle of the Atlantic? Who is plotting to assassinate us when we make it to this warehouse? Which government placed tracking devices aboard the ship while loading those crates—because none of us helped you load them.”

“Flash, you’re paranoid. They’re just crates.”

“Of?”

“Of we-were-paid-extra-to-not-know. Nothing we haven’t done before.”

“Who is the client?” Alister asked, glancing toward the unknown girl to his right, guessing at her reason for being not only aboard the ship, but sitting at the table.

Alice didn’t answer straight away. She tapped her chin twice as she stared up at the ceiling. “They spoke Spanish,” she said with a shrug.

Alister stared at her, wondering if she was serious. Of course she was. Rubbing at his forehead in an effort to ward of the oncoming headache, he closed his eyes. “This is why we don’t let you accept jobs on your own.”

“They already paid half,” Alice said. She reached into her suit’s inner breast pocket and pulled out a cell phone. A few taps had her screen displaying a sizable deposit into the company account. “The other half will be paid after we drop the crates off at the specified warehouse.”

“And you just believed that? Without even knowing who our client is?”

“Well, if they’re no good…” Alice trailed off. Her smile sharpened at the corners of her mouth. She peeled something off the back of the case. A brick of clay-like plastic slammed down atop it, prompting a slight squeak from the curly-haired girl—the first noise she had made since the meeting began. Other than the new girl, only Tatyana hadn’t made a noise, though that wasn’t unusual for her. “It would be an awful shame if Flash accidentally mixed in a thirty-ninth crate of his explosives. An extra shame if he accidentally left some detonators in. And if someone were to accidentally lean on the remote… Well, who could blame us for that?”

“Our clients,” Alister said instantly, forcing Alice into another pout. “Probably the Mexican government as well.”

“You’re no fun.”

“Yes, well, sorry if I think keeping Mexican drug cartels off our back is unfun, but we’re already wanted by enough other people that I’d like to avoid making unnecessary enemies.”

“Besides,” Flash said. “As much as I like blowing up smuggled munitions… or smuggled drugs. Or both! Or anything really, I have to agree that this is a bad plan.”

“Really?” “Really?” Both Gideon and Alice glanced at each other as they spoke at the same time before looking back to Flash. “I thought you’d be on board,” Alice said. “You love explosions.”

“Yeah, but, what if they actually pay us? Then what? Walk back in like ‘Hey, forgot our bomb. Don’t mind us.’ Or worse, just leave it there? I don’t really want to be giving away my art for free without at least a guarantee that they’ll send me a video of whatever they use it on. That stuff doesn’t grow on trees, you know.”

Alice picked up the chunk of plastic explosive and stared at it for a moment. She dropped it somewhere under the table with an exaggerated sigh. “I suppose it is a good thing I thought up a backup plan,” she said as she tossed her phone to Alister. He snatched it out of the air, noting that she hadn’t bothered locking it since showing the account. She was among friends, no one here would steal it—with the possible exception of the curly-haired girl. The girl looked scrawny and weak; if she took the phone, everyone here would tackle her before she could get more than a step away from the table. Still, it was bad practice to not lock it as soon as she finished using it. He would have to reprimand her later, for now, he looked to the screen as she continued talking. “Their contact details are in there somewhere. I doubt they’ll work long after we’ve delivered the merchandise, but you can call them up and figure out what I might have missed.”

Sure enough, she had a whole section of surprisingly detailed notes including a physical description of the three clients. Which just prompted another groan from Alister. She had met with people on her own. People who were almost certainly smuggling something illegal. Probably people who wouldn’t care in the slightest about killing a young woman. And she still didn’t get an organization name, but it was a start. “In the future, let’s start with backup plans. However,” Alister paused, locking the phone and placing it down on the table. There was something more important at the moment. The Lunar Dial wouldn’t be able to leave Greece for another day minimum—their much needed supplies of both the food and fuel variety weren’t to be delivered until the morning. Contacting their mysterious clients could wait until then. Alister turned to the curly-haired girl who, despite having her head down, somehow knew that he was staring and only shrank in on herself even more. “If she isn’t the client, then who is she?”

“Oh! How could I forget. This is…” Alice trailed off, tapping at her chin as she stared at the increasingly nervous girl. “A temporary member of the crew!” The girl snapped her wide eyes up to look at Alice at that proclamation. “Who is going to introduce herself right now.”

“You don’t even know her name?”

“Of course I do! But new crew members should introduce themselves.”

“You clearly didn’t talk to her about this. And you didn’t talk to any of us, either.” Alister glanced around at each of the others, Gideon, Doc, Flash, and Tatyana, looking for any indication that they had been consulted. None of them objected to his statement or countered it in any way. “You can’t just… You haven’t forgotten that the last person you brought aboard like this was a CIA plant, have you?”

“I knew from the beginning.”

“We didn’t.”

“I couldn’t have told you. You would have acted differently around her.”

“Maybe we could have saved the Solar Dial if she hadn’t been there,” Alister said, trying not to narrow his eyes at Tatyana at the same time.

Alice waved her hand dismissively. “I still don’t think Signum had anything to do with that. She liked us too much. It was just a wrong place, wrong time sort of thing that accidentally wound up with us unable to stop the bomb. Bad luck for everyone. But anyway, topic dropped. We focus on the here and now.” She patted the girl’s back. “Go on. Nothing to be afraid of. Well, I mean, everyone here could kill you in increasingly disturbing ways as you go clockwise around the table, but they won’t. It would waste all the effort I went through saving you!”

The longer Alice talked, the sicker the girl looked. She refused to meet anyone’s eyes. Despite his protests, Alister actually felt a little sorry for the girl. She clearly didn’t want to be here. Which just made her joining the crew all the worse. Even as a ‘temporary’ member. People who didn’t want to join were far more likely to turn traitor if put in a poor situation. If the girl needed help, they could stow her away until the heat died down or they found some other solution. Letting her sit at the table while discussing a job was just careless.

“I-I’m-I’ve…” The girl finally started talking, only to pause and sniffle. “I am so dead,” she said. Her head flopped forward, smacking into the table’s hard wood with a heavy thud.

Author’s Note: So, there’s that. If you’re not sure what this is, you can find more information in my Updates, specifically 003. Since I talked so much about the project as a whole there, I’ll only say a little here. This project is currently seven chapters long, representing one complete story arc. They will be posted once a week on Thursday until they’re done with. After that, we’ll see!

As for the writing itself, this is a bit different than my normal style in many senses of the word. First and foremost, the literal style. You might have noticed that this is no spaces between paragraphs and indented. Is that better or worse than the no indents with single line between (such as these author’s notes)? I don’t know. You tell me in the comments. I’ve been reading a few epubs that are in this style and I kind of like it, but maybe it isn’t meant for web writing.

Secondly, there are a lot of characters introduced in this first chapter. I normally don’t like introducing more than one main character in the first chapter. Maybe two at most. This has seven. And there are more coming in future chapters. There is a Character sheet for this in case you get confused later on, so don’t forget about it. You might notice that pretty much none of them have much in the way of physical descriptions either. I didn’t want to bog down your heads with seven different descriptions and seven names as well all in the first chapter. You would probably never remember it or keep it all straight. Physical descriptions will be doled out like light seasoning as we continue onward. As with Void Domain, physical descriptions for most characters are probably going to be light anyway. Maybe hair color and style and a few other key features.

Thirdly, this is a realistic military-esque fiction. I am not Tom Clancy. I’m not going to bog you down with ten pages on how to disassemble a rifle or other too technical details. But I have decided to name real world equipment. I don’t think I’m going to put much in the way of weapon description unless there is something particularly noteworthy about a given item. If I say that there is a KSVK anti-material sniper rifle being used, you don’t really need to know much other than it is a big long rifle and probably has a scope equipped. Generally what you would expect from something called a sniper rifle. However, I know some people like knowing exactly, so the character page will also feature an equipment list with all named equipment on it and links to probably Wikipedia.

Fourthly, and related to the above, there might be some acronyms. If nobody says the full thing in the text, I’ll probably add a bit in a footnote at the bottom. For example, in the next chapter, somebody says RWR which doesn’t get a definition up above (though the context will probably give you an idea about what it means anyway). So, at the bottom, I’ll say RWR — Radar Warning Receiver, a device that detects radar used by potentially hostile craft. Or something. That might also go on the equipment list, though I don’t currently have that one on it at the moment. However, like the KSVK above, a lot of weapon names are acronyms as well. KSVK stands for Крупнокалиберная Снайперская Винтовка Ковровская (Krupnokalibernaya Snayperskaya Vintovka Kovrovskaya); English: Large-Caliber Kovrov Sniper Rifle. I will probably not write that down anywhere. So it might feel a little inconsistent? I don’t know.

Fifthly, as you might guess from the title, this project features languages! And I only know English, though I did take two years of German and two years of Japanese, both over ten years ago! Sometimes, the text will say something like: So-and-so said something in Spanish. Sometimes, I’ll type out something in the language: “Ich kann Deutsch sprechen. Habe es gelernt, als ich bei der Armee war.” Most of the time, those will be translated by somebody or you should be able to glean mostly what was said by context. I am writing this primarily for English speakers, so don’t worry if you don’t speak 29 different languages. That said, if you do speak a language used and the speaker of said language uses it wrong or just phrases it poorly when they’re obviously supposed to be fluent (I am using Google Translate for everything) let me know in the comments and I’ll update the text to be better!

Sixthly, much of this work will take place in real world locations. Especially real world locations that are conflict heavy as of 2017-2018. Sometimes these conflicts will be played up for in-story drama or narrative purposes. So if I portray your country as a war-torn land filled with mines, rainy skies, and guerilla fighters when it is really a pretty nice place, sorry about that. This is ultimately a work of fiction. While I may use organizations and governments, I will avoid naming real people who are currently in power. Past leaders, perhaps. But even the President of the United States of America won’t be Trump or Clinton or Sanders or anyone who is a current politician. It will be someone made up like Rick Alanman. I don’t think I really needed to mention this note, but stories are always like “everybody is fictitious, any resemblance to a real person is coincidental” so I figured I would add this anyway.

So anyway, this author’s note is like half the length of the actual chapter, so I figure I had best stop here. Hope everyone enjoys!

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