“Camille is not a danger to the ship,” I insisted, as I paced in front of my command chair.

The bridge was quiet. Deadly quiet. No one wanted to open their mouths in case they said something that sent Vela on a one-way ticket back to crazyville.

“She is a danger to you, Captain,” Vela replied.

“She’s not.”

“I do not believe she is in a sexual relationship with Midshipman Russo.”

What the fuck?

Several of the flight deck crew stared purposely at the floor. They were no longer trying to break into any of the locked systems. Nor were they pretending to be distracted by work. Every single one of them was listening. Unable to look away from the train wreck as it happened.

I considered taking this conversation to my ready room. But the thought of being locked in there, cut off from the bridge, was a real concern. It was too easy to set Vela off, and I couldn’t chance it.

At least here, I was still in a position of control. Even if it was only a superficial one.

I swallowed my pride and silently vowed to make it up to Camille somehow.

“That doesn’t mean she’s a threat to me,” I said.

“She is fooling you. Conspiring with Midshipman Russo to go against the many.”

“That’s simply not true, Vela. She’s an outstanding officer and a loyal member of my crew.”

“She cannot be trusted. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.”

“Stop it!” I snapped. “Just stop it. You’re like a broken record.”

Silence. Damn it! I’d lost my temper. I glanced around the bridge. Brecht looked at me with alarm in his eyes. They all looked at me with alarm in their eyes. None of them wanted their captain arrested and thrown in the brig beside their chief of engineering.

Neither did I. Even if it meant I could check on Camille.

“All right, Vela,” I said more levelly. “We’ll do this your way for a while. But I want you to consider something. That solar flare you saved us from? The one that took out your former vessel? Are you sure it didn’t get to you before it took those one thousand one hundred and ninety-six lives?”

The gel walls pulsed a threatening red and then died. No colour whatsoever.

“Vela?” I said softly.

Nothing.

“What have we got, people?” I asked the flight deck.

Several crewmen shook their heads.

“Still no main boost thrust, Captain,” Brecht said, checking the engineering console.

“Navigation and helm are offline,” Lieutenant Giorgiou advised.

“I can’t hail, Pavo,” Johnson announced.

“So, nothing’s changed,” I muttered.

“We’re no longer on alert,” Graves offered. “At any level.”

I shook my head. Vela had just spat the dummy and stormed out of the sandbox.

“It’s like dealing with a child,” I growled.

“A very powerful child,” Brecht corrected.

I shared a look of acute worry with him.

“Captain?” Johnson called.

“Yes, Lieutenant?”

“I’ve got Pavo on the viewscreen. Closing the distance.”

What? I stepped toward the front of the bridge where the largest viewscreen was located.

“What magnification is that?” I asked.

“Normal vision, sir,” Johnson replied.

“They’re that close?”

“Yes, sir. And closing.”

“Estimated time of arrival, Lieutenant?”

“At their speed: one hour.”

What the hell had possessed Jameson to reverse course? He’d thrown his jump quotas away already by waiting for us to catch up to them. But this? How the hell did he get this past his mayor and leaseholder? A reverse course used precious fuel. He was compromising the success of his mission. Why?

“We still can’t hail them?” I queried.

“No, sir,” Johnson confirmed. “Vela has us locked out.”

“What are they thinking?” Brecht asked no one in particular.

“They’re thinking we’re in trouble,” I replied, feeling dread pool in my gut.

“If an Anderson Universal ship thinks we’re in trouble,” Brecht started.

“Then we’re in a shitload of trouble, Commander,” I finished for him.

“Verdamt nochmal,” he muttered.

Couldn’t have said it better myself.

“Keep trying to hack those systems, crew,” I ordered.

“And Vela?” Brecht asked.

“We do our duty to this ship and its passengers, Commander. Regardless of the consequences.”

“Aye-aye, Captain.”

I stared at the viewscreen and then returned to my chair and pinged engineering. There was no point hiding now. No point using the datapads or isolated channels. They’d only piss Vela off. He had to know we weren’t on board with his plans, so why deny it? We didn’t have the luxury of being clever anymore, things had escalated, and I had a very bad feeling the shit was only just getting started.

“Engineering,” MacBride said in answer to my comm.

“Lieutenant, everything in order down there?”

“Yes, sir. Although, I can’t raise Commander Rey.”

“The chief is in the brig,” I replied. MacBride sucked in a shocked breath of air and then settled into a parade rest, face impassive, eyes looking into the distance stance.

MacBride was old school. Old bones. He would not have liked the idea that his chief was in the brig even if she deserved it. Loyal to the end and just what I was counting on.

“Vela’s idea, not mine,” I offered. He relaxed slightly. “Any progress on main boost thrust?”

“No, sir. We’re still locked out.”

“And Midshipman Russo? Is he still with you?”

“Ah, yes sir. He is. Shouldn’t he be?”

I shrugged. God knew what Vela would do next.

“Tell him his little project backfired and not to attempt such endeavours again.”

“Sir?” MacBride corrected himself. “Yes, sir. Will do.”

“And MacBride? Get me main boost thrust back. We’re about to have visitors and might need to start dancing.”

He looked alarmed. I couldn’t blame him.

“On it, sir. I’ll give it everything we’ve got.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant.”

“It’s for the chief, sir.”

I huffed out a laugh and ended the comm. I wanted to contact the brig and check on Camille, but what I’d see there would only make me wild with worry. The chief could handle a little captivity. Hell, she was probably scheming ways to break out of there. She didn’t need my mothering.

I looked back at the viewscreen. Pavo was making steady progress.

I glanced around the bridge. Everyone was heads down, bums up, trying to crack into Vela’s systems.

I fisted my hands. They were our systems. Not the AI’s. They belonged to the Chariot, and the Chariot belonged to us.

“Vela!” I said, my voice full of command.

I didn’t expect it to work; he’d been absent for a good ten minutes now. But something in my tone, or maybe it was just coincidence and the damned tin can had decided to come back to us, made him reply.

“Yes, Captain.”

I breathed out a sigh of relief and then the tactical console lit up like the fourth of July.

“Graves?” I queried.

“It’s not me, Captain!” the lieutenant replied. “Oh, shit. Excuse me, sir! Damn!” Not much better. “We’re going live.”

“What?” I stood up from my chair.

“Across the board, Captain. All weapons are coming online.”

“Vela!”

The gel wall pulsed red and stayed red.

“Red alert. Red alert. Red alert,” the AI announced. “All hands report to battle stations. This is not a drill. Prepare for attack. All hands report to battle stations. This is not a drill. Prepare for attack.”

Attack? I shook my head, my eyes automatically flicking to the image of Pavo growing larger on the screen.

“Graves?” I said softly, my words somehow making it to the tactical officer over the din of the alarms blaring.

“Sir?”

“Are they armed?” This couldn’t be happening.

“I can’t tell, sir,” Graves said. “Vela’s shut down all scanning capability. I…I just can’t tell.”

We were going to war with the last of our fellow survivors, and I couldn’t even tell if it was justified.