Aleks turned to look at Gansu, eyes hard and dull, like frost on glass.

“Princess comes with orders. She is assuming direct command of the fleet, including us. Not sure where this is going from here, but we are dealed an awful hand of cards, and holiday is not even in the deck.”

He turned to look back at Abigail, preemptively resting his hand on her shoulder and squeezing - gently, but firmly - in case she tried to leave before he was going to let her. Abigail shook her shoulder a little bit but metal-polymer grips were hard to escape from once caught. She kept that same still eerie smile on her face as her eyes narrowed slightly in rapid and solemn thought.

Aleks glanced back towards Gansu and - either realising how deadly his expression was, or his mood finally levelling out - softened his gaze.

“It is understandable that this may be cause for concern. I have spoken to her, she seems reasonable and willing to learn, which is undeniably better than the worst case for leadership.”

"Like I said I'm - sure - she'll - be - wonderful," Abigail said between jerks of her shoulder, trying to free herself, "but I'm more concerned about that rookie all alone out on the ship! Poor thing's probably lost. Hey, here's an idea -" she stared Aleks dead in the eyes, her gaze cold and fierce. "Let me go. And I can go…look for her."

Aleks blinked at her rapidly, weighing up the choice in his head - keep her here, or let her go. Neither one of them seemed very much like a good something to do, both of them had the potential to lead directly to catastrophe, but…

“We must speak later.” He looked at Abi, staring her down, straight in the eyes. “Ok?”

He waited for a response before he let her go.

Abigail stared back. She wriggled a bit more, sighed then gave Aleks the most sanctimonious, pristine salute she could muster at such an awkward position. "Yes sir, Lieutenant Commander Danielsson sir," she barked back at him and clicked her heels.

The moment she was released Abigail was gone, squeezing past Gansu and rocketing down the corridors out of sight.

Aleks waited a moment.

“You little shit.” He mumbled, after a moment more. “Nevermind. She’ll be fine. Yes, bad news, Gansu.”

INS Roanoke
Hyperspace
Local time: 0830

---

“So much for a day off.” Ingram grumbled to himself as he quickly marched down the cramped hallways of The Roanoke. The squadron had only just finished PT and breakfast when Eva had appeared to inform him that he was to report to the bridge. He knew what they were supposed to talk about- after all, they had an Imperial Princess on board, kind of just… sitting around. The Captain needed to talk about their next steps and just what the hell was going on. There were still plenty of questions ringing through Ingram’s head: For instance, why was a member of the Royal Family this close to the front line? Obviously she was here to take command of her battlegroup, but why? Surely there were better places to have a Royal’s Change of Command Ceremony.

Captain Sarret either had the answers, or more questions to add to his already compounding list of them, Ingram figured, though knowing his luck he’d just get more of the latter. Ingram sidled his way into The Roanoke’s bridge elevator, returning a salute from a pair of security troopers that made room for him. Now with an armed escort, Ingram was seen to the top level of the bridge: what amounted to a small observation deck.

Mostly blank and featureless, consisting primarily of large open windows with unobstructed sight lines of the entire ship and its surroundings, an operations table in the center, and a small railing to prevent people from falling off the side and onto the other levels of the Bridge. The deck itself was set with a bluish glow, with occasional motes of purple or red, as the light within the room mostly mirrored the colors of the hyperspace outside the windows.

Captain Sarret stood in front of the table, facing out towards the windows, watching space fly by. Without knowing who she was, Captain Sarret struck a rather un-intimidating or meek figure: barely taller than Abigail, and slightly leaning over on one side, pressing the majority of her body weight against a cane. Not that anyone would ever say ‘meek’ or ‘un-intimidating’ to her face. Upon closer inspection one would see the look of a woman who had walked through hell, and came out thoroughly unimpressed: silver hair and olive skin contrasted against the matte silver/steel of prosthetic bionics that took up the majority of the left side of her body.

Hearing rather than seeing Ingram enter the deck, Sarret motioned for him to join her, her cane- a scorched chunk of starship plating, polished and reforged into a proper shape- indicating where he should stand.

“Good morning, Commander.” The Captain greeted him, not cold or unfriendly, but her voice always seemed to lack a warmth to it.

“Morning, Captain.” Ingram nodded, standing in his designated spot next to her. The Captain had a weird way of communicating with her crew, not quite as formal as receiving a report from across a desk, but not quite as familiar either.

“I read the reports, and spoke with the Princess on what happened. How are Harlow and Jakunta?”

“Physically? Well, a couple bruises and a mild concussion on Pips’ end, and Jakunta, well if he wasn’t good to fight he’d tell me- and he hasn’t said much of anything at all, so I’ll assume everything’s good.”

“The Direwolves performed admirably yesterday, protected the castle, saved the princess, and no casualties to boot.” Sarret commented, in about as pleased a tone as one would expect from her, “Commendations are in order when we get back to friendly space.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Ingram said, somewhat relieved as his shoulders relaxed a bit. “But I think getting some R&R will be reward en-”

“Which is why I’m sorry to say, it might be a while before we get back to friendly space.” The Captain interrupted him, her lips pressed into a thin line. Ingram managed to keep his jaw from dropping, but it wasn’t hard to read the emotions on his face.

“Not through my own choice, I assure you. Horizon Point was already overwhelmed by the time we left the surface of Cerol. Punching through a Coalition armada with a single ship and half a combat ready squadron was not a gamble I was willing to make, so I jumped us away from the enemy fleet.”

“Unfortunately, this means-”

---

INS Roanoke
Hyperspace
Local Time: 1030

---

“-we’re going to be exiting hyperspace in the middle of the FEZ.”

Ingram mentally braced himself for the incoming deluge of upset pilots as he continued their briefing. Shortly after concluding his debriefing with the Captain, Ingram had to bring the rest of his squadron back to the officer’s lounge and bring them up to speed on the new developments. The lounge, filled with the members of the 7th, also had a guest with them: Princess Aurelia stood by the head of the table next to Ingram as he addressed his squadron.

"Luckily for us, we’re not completely up shit creek. The Roanoke will be dropping out of hyperspace nearby the planet of Randledon, Zeta Tau system.”

As he spoke, a dossier of the planet appeared on their holopads. Randledon was a moderately populated planet in the middle of the Free Enterprise Zone, also referred to as the FEZ- the unofficial name for the no man’s land between the largest theater of war in the UEE-Coalition conflict. Far from a prosperous metropolis like Earth or Mars, Randledon resembled a pock marked and cratered desert, bombed out and long abandoned by both UEE and Coalition forces. A former manufacturing hub for Coalition mobile armor, Randledon was a shadow of its former self: a collection of small settlements clinging to life, subsisting off scraps and salvage from ruined factories. Small settlements littered the planet’s surface, surviving off small wellsprings with stretches of barren, craggy terrain between them. Coalition presence on the planet was limited to none- much like UEE presence on the planet, but it was a hub for mercenary groups and raiders alike, who picked the remains of the factories to arm themselves with mechs and weapons.

“Randledon is home to the 8th Fleet’s ‘Fort Nyx’, a special operations outpost hidden on the planet. We’ve already made contact with them, and they’ll be receiving us for rearm and resupply. Now, the Roanoke is too big to land nearby, and we don’t want to give the FOB’s position away, so the Roanoke will be landing a ways away and hiding itself, the 7th will be making the journey on foot.”

“The Roanoke’s detachment of jarheads will be joining us in an armored convoy to carry the supplies we get from Fort Nyx. Needless to say, our job will be to make sure that convoy gets there in one piece.

“Leave your nameplates and uniform patches on your bunks, as far as Randledon is concerned, we’re just another merc outfit. The fewer people who know who we are and where we’re going, the better.”

Leaning in slightly, Ingram cleared his throat a bit, “Eva-”

”Yes, LIEUTEN-

“-close the doors and disconnect yourself from the lounge please.” Ingram quickly cut in before the VI even had a chance to appear in front of the squadron.

”Yes sir, sealing the lounge.” came Eva’s disembodied voice over the room’s speakers before falling silent, the doors to the lounge quickly shutting and locking. Turning back to his squadron, Ingram shrugged apologetically before continuing.

“The following does not leave this room, and will not be spoken about with anyone other than those currently in this room. Everyone understand?”

“We have reasons to believe that the Coalition attack on Horizon Point was specifically targeting Sunray. Her movements are state secrets, so that means someone in the fleet fed the Coalition information.”

Letting that sink in for a moment, Ingram continued, “Luckily, none of us grunts knew anything about her being here, and we were supposed to be cycled out anyway, so that more or less clears us from suspicion. The remaining suspects are the ISS bodyguards- who are dead or MIA, Captain Sarret, and the rest of the Roanoke’s bridge officers.”

“Now, while I doubt Captain Sarret would endanger herself and the crew of the Roanoke with such an act of treason, these circumstances mean that until we are relieved, protection of Princess Aurelia falls to us alone. As such, she’ll be coming with us. While she is with us, she is not to be referred to as ‘Princess’, we don’t want anyone overhearing us and getting any smart ideas.”

“Any questions? If not, get started on your own preparations. We drop out of hyperspace in 3 hours.”

With no relative star to provide a day/night cycle the Roanoke's lighting system mimicked a dawn and dusk to the best of its abilities. Oftentimes Abigail was lit, a scrappy silhouette in the maintenance LEDs, in the middle of night making her adventures to the toilet and the officer's lounge. Seldom did she stay in her quarters if it wasn't to sleep in them. She had an aversion to the space and claimed it was cramped. But when the princess left Abigail's quarters she remained inside and did not leave the room for the entirety of the evening, claiming that the battle and rough landing tired her out enough to get some rest.

Jakunta banged on the door with a heavy hand that could only be him. Abigail's gaze flickered to the door for a moment before she got up and clicked on the speakers for the door lock.

"Yeah?"

“Hello.” he spoke, staring at the door.

"Heyyyy." Abigail thought about it for a moment.

The keypad flashed green and the door hissed open. She gestured for him to enter.

Jakunta entered and looked around the room. “Empty.” he said, void of any emotion indicating whether that was a good or bad thing. “Are you going to be a soldier, or the poster girl?” he asked next, straight to the point as he sat himself down.

"The soldier," Abigail responded. "But it's hard to give the poster girl up."

“You will give it up. Or we die. You die, I die, ship die.”

"Firstly," Abigail sat down on her bed - sheets still tucked in neat, "the only fun I get out of all this Child of Savonia shit is the bragging rights and how people look up to me. Second, it's not a goddamn risk. You sound like Aleks. Did it ever occur to either of you that the mistakes I made this year might have something to do with me being a shitty pilot, overpromoted to this rank because of who I know and the terms of my contract?"

"Because the contract's key here, Jak. It's not a...a lifestyle choice, it's a fucking legal obligation. Failure to uphold my part of the bargain means they'll fail to uphold theirs. Best case scenario I get kicked out of the Direwolves, probably kept out of a MAS, shunted back into Jaatikar where I can finally live out the life I was supposed to live - ODed at thirty five because I don't know what the fuck civilians even do other than watch me on the TV. Worst case scenario, they get all maliciously compliant to the terms and conditions and choke me to death on a loophole."

She tugged on a part of her sheets. "This isn't something you can beat the shit out of until it stops twitching, nor do I think you can get it redacted. I signed the papers. I'm gonna have to do my fucking job." She pulled a face. "Right now they aren't allowed to bother me while I'm on duty. But the moment they catch wind of what's happened here, I'm fucked. They'll dreg up every scrap of footage they can find, every audio recording, security cams, body scans and make as much material as they can out of it."

Jakunta furrowed his brows and rubbed his forehead, seemingly annoyed at something. “No. YOU do not understand.” he pointed at her, dramatically, before gesticulating his hand into a gun. “Bullet only throws if the gun works! You are the gun. They need gun to work.”

"...You're right. I don't understand your strange, vodka infused Zalavi wisdom." Abigail pulled a face. "And I think it's going to be vastly blown out of proportion. We're going to just take her back to UEE space and I can deal with the fallout...I dunno. Immediately, it sounds like. As soon as we land."

"Only thing that will blow up is you if you keep playing pretend instead of doing job, child like." he nodded firmly as if he had the ability to peer into the future.

INS Roanoke
Hyperspace
Local Time: 1030

---

“-we’re going to be exiting hyperspace in the middle of the FEZ.”

Silence.

Where Ingram expected protestation - especially from the mouthiest, shortest member of the crew - he found an impassive expression and complete silence meeting him. Her eyes narrowed slightly but her expression was blank. He might as well have mentioned a change in the lunch menu for all she seemed to care. However, taking a professional actress at face value was a dangerous presumption; she sat with a too-straight back as well, and seemed far too composed for Abigail's usual first-thing-in-the-morning routine.

Jakunta picked at his teeth. "We get extra pay? Emperor fuck us, he take us out to dinner?"

Abigail's gaze briefly flickered to Aurelia.

When Ingram sealed the lounge and explained the fears of a mole, their new roles as the Princess' personal bodyguards and the importance of maintaining Aurelia's anonymity, Abigail decided to pipe up.

"Are you fucking serious? The FEZ? Emperor's going to be more willing to let Jakunta fuck him than find out his youngest's traipsing around in some smelly Merc fuckpit!" She leant back in her chair. "I vote we call Auri Overtime. That's got nothing to do with her royal status."

---

---

INS Roanoke
Hyperspace
Local Time: 1030

---

---

Aleks shook his head, and held up a hand in Abigail’s direction.

“No. That is a reference to our obligations towards her. Coalition Intelligence are just that - intelligent - and will see this as an anomaly in our usual naming schemes. All they need is a reason to investigate, and they will investigate - their resources available for finding Sunray are effectively limitless, and they will pursue every possible avenue towards that end.”

Aleks nodded.

“There was a man in my SRG section, famous because he had slept with three military police officers, and because he was so bad in bed they fined him. We called him Shitfuck, because he was a shit fuck.”

Seamlessly, he looked up again at the others.

“Shitfuck, or something like it, is an option.” He half-joked.

But then Aleks’ demeanour shifted - instantly and with no regard to his previous sentence, or the humour it was going for - as it so often does.

“Your highness.” He began, stiff and formal, a complete whiplash from his previous sentence that was made only worse by the awkward pause that followed it as he struggled to find a way to word his thoughts without offending the Princess. “I would not ever disrespect you by presuming that you are ignorant of history - I am certain, you are more educated on this subject than me.” Began the preamble.

Aleks paused again, glancing down at the floor, and folding his arms before he looked back up.

“The Coalition have been sworn enemies of the Empire for hundreds of years. Even just this single episode of war, it has gone on for longer than many of us here in this room have even lived, and the relative peace we had before it was truly nothing more than cold war and arms racing. Every family in the Empire has lost somebody to the Coalition.”

He remembered Jaatikar.

“I’ll just ask. Do you believe with all your heart that there is a realistic chance at lasting peace? Not another cold war, but a real peace?”