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“I’m more thinking that our piloting will accomplish more of the heavy lifting there,” Jack answered her.

Jack really wished he could take over the Osiris’ controls, but as the AI had pointed out, he was a beginner at flying a Paladin class ship. He had no training whatsoever flying the Osiris. And could he really do better than an AI anyways even if he had the experience? Logically, Jack would have to say “no” but flying and fighting were about more than logic. Sometimes there was luck involved. And AIs didn’t deal in luck or fate or whatever it was that made things happen in a certain way at the exact right time. But the Osiris was already putting its ears back and glowering at him. Bring luck up now and it might stop listening to him altogether.

“Is there a third option, Flight-Commander?” Staed asked, frowning at his silence, and clearly sensing that Jack was holding back.

Jack’s eyes slid to the cursor that blinked. If the Osiris wouldn’t do it there was no reason to give the others false hope.

He grinned tightly. “No, that’s it. I need the fleet to help me get the Hives to line up or get near the planet. The Osiris will take point as they don’t like shooting at us. But we are going to have to all work together.”

“So you are going to be the leader, Flight-Commander? A human on his first trip into outer space?” Staed scowled.

But then his vessel was struck again and again by fire by the Khul. He fell to the ground. Ceiling panels crashed down on top of him. Diane gasped and clutched the front of her uniform. Jack found himself holding his breath. Staed did not get back up.

Crew swarmed the area. He heard a call for “Medic!” And then Staed’s body was carried away. Whether he was alive or dead wasn’t clear. Another Thaf’ell came into frame. There was blood crusting his temple and his uniform was streaked with dirt. But he seemed strangely calm. Jack recognized someone that had seen a lot of battles.

“What’s your name, soldier?” Jack asked. “Are you next in charge?”

“Matzen. I’m all that’s left,” the grim Thaf’ell said, riding out the next shudder of his craft.

“I see. I’m going to make you the same offer as I did Staed--”

“I heard your offer. I heard his dismissal,” Matzen said.

Jack grimaced. “Well, if you’re not going to assist--”

“On the contrary, I am going to assist. The Alliance Fleet--what’s left of it--is yours to command, Jack Parker,” Matzen said.

Jack blinked. “You’re different.”

He hadn’t meant to say that, but it didn’t seem to offend Matzen. Instead, he gave a thin, bladed smile.

“I served under Commander Khoth Voor. I wish to do so again,” Matzen said simply. “And we are out of options.”

“Right.” Jack grinned. “Then let’s put it all out there. Here’s the plan.”

As he talked, Matzen and Diane listened. This would be their only shot. Jack hoped it would work.

Meanwhile, in the storm sewers on Ylore...

Davies dropped into the Ylore equivalent of storm sewers. It reminded him of fall in Bethesda. The scent of leaves and other rotting vegetation filled his nostrils. Damp stone and water added to the aromas, but it did not cover the dry, foul scent of the Khul.

The storm sewers were barely lit from grated openings up above to intermittent lights every ten feet or so. These lights were a sour yellow color that dimmed and surged at strange intervals. The whole system was under strain. It was confirmation of what Jace had said about things being broken and in desperate need of repair.

Davies checked his comm to see where the Khul were ahead of him. Eerily like the device that had been used in Alien, the comm showed the Khul as green dots--seven of them--arrayed up ahead. The lines of the sewers were shown simply in two-dimensions. Unlike in video games, there was no cone of light telling him which way the Khul were looking.

Davies took out his draagves and double-checked that it was working properly. He always checked, double-checked and sometimes triple-checked his equipment. His life had been held by a thread and malfunctioning equipment could have caused that thread to snap. Assured that all was well, he started to run low down the sewer.

The sewer was ten feet tall and just as wide. He had hoped it would be narrower. The Khul were much bigger than him. It would have been nice to have them hunched over and creeping forward. As it was, they might have to duck their heads, but there was plenty of room even for their insectoid bodies. A smaller space would have made it easier to shoot them, too, but it would give him less room to maneuver as well.

He avoided the small river of water that ran down the center of the tunnel. The stone he was on was wet, but there were few puddles, and those he avoided. His footsteps made little sound, but the Khul were very sensitive to vibrations. Yet there wasn’t time to creep the whole way there. He was certain that they had brought some kind of explosives to get into the Moturin Compound and, unlike Jace, he wasn’t sure the shield would hold.

Jace had done the best he could in a short amount of time to fix this little piece of Haseon, but the Khul had had millennia to know this technology and ways around it. If Jace’d had the right amount of time and materials, Davies was certain the young man could have made the place Khul-tight. But not under the circumstances he’d had.

On one level, he’d been slightly disappointed to find the Thaf’ell living in a city whose technology they didn’t fully understand and whose infrastructure was failing slowly all around them. Not that it wasn’t something Davies had seen time and time again on Earth, but still, he’d hoped for better. He was sure there were better things. But not this. At the same time, it made him more certain than ever that Jace and his crew had something to truly offer the Alliance. There were blind spots that they couldn’t--or wouldn’t--see and a fresh set of eyes could put them right again.

Davies slowed down as he neared a curve in the sewer. A brief glance at his comm showed him that the Khul were clustered just beyond this bend about twenty-five feet away. There was a line ahead of them, indicating that the sewer was blocked in some way. That was the Moturin Compound. Do not go. Do not enter. Do not collect $200.

Davies slowed to a crawl, taking great care how he put his feet down on the ground. Heel to toe in a slow, but deliberate movement. He stopped as he reached the very edge of the curve. He leaned his back against it and listened.