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a rumor that the Praxis slowed to pick up a transport with VIPs. Michael knew many of those gathered, but mostly by reputation or through live stream meetings. Presidium execs, special operations officers, shipboard staff, and a large contingent of scientists dominated the room. As they waited for the captain, most nodded to Michael or whispered encouragement, but he felt the same underlying message ever-present since Day One: You are not one of us and never will be.

Capt. Delano Forsythe represented the Admiralty’s interests, but he did not arrive in full Guard regalia. In fact, none of the Guard bore their uniforms or insignias. He was a good seven feet tall but slender, and his mustache was as white as his hair was black. He called the session to order. Michael took a seat next to Joseph.

“Ladies and gentlemen. Citizens of Earth. Citizens of the Collectorate. It is my honor to lead us on this historic journey. I wish to begin by passing along three important messages from Supreme Admiral Poussard. This information is for your ears only.

“One. The Praxis will bear no flag. We are a research vessel seeking new sources of untapped energy. Naturally, our scientific team requires security. Any connection to the Guard is purely coincidental. Everyone onboard this ship is a citizen of equal stature. The era of the caste system is ending. Admiral Poussard expects that division to be non-existent on this ship.

“Two. We will not be able to enter the Hiebimini system in the near term. Probes have demonstrated that the enemy has mined the Nexus point with the same weapons it used on the Carriers. Therefore, any attempt at rescue and recovery will be delayed.”

The Captain glanced Michael’s way. He knew this was possible. If the system was open, the Guard would have retaliated at once. So, it wasn’t going to be a direct line. But if Sam could hold on a little longer, endure whatever that bastard was putting her through, Michael intended to make everything right.

“Three. While it might appear to some that the Guard have been sitting on their collective asses while the terrorists caused death and destruction, this is not true. We believe we have found another way in. A potential tech that might surpass anything known to Bouchet and his abominations. We will be traveling to Tamarind. We will arrive in ten days. Additional mission parameters will be provided on an as-need basis. Questions?”

A spec-ops officer stood. “Captain, are we truly so paranoid of the terrorists that we have to disguise ourselves this way?”

“No, Specialist George. This is about pragmatism, not paranoia. Until we have leveled the field in regard to wormhole travel and have an unobstructed path to Hiebimini, the Supreme Admiral insists we put no more humans at risk. Not only Chancellors, but indigos as well. James Bouchet has followers on many worlds – especially Tamarind. We cannot tip our hand.”

Michael heard nothing else interesting as the questions burrowed into the mission details. He was ready to retire to his quarters when Capt. Forsyth made a final announcement.

“I had hoped to introduce the last two members of our crew at a later time. However, they availed themselves here despite my request to the contrary.” Michael looked past the turning heads, but he wasn’t sure whom Forsyth was pointing out.

“These two individuals not only have special insight into the terrorists, but they are acquainted with the operations on Tamarind.” He beckoned them forward. The couple struck Michael as regal, the worst kind of Chancellors, in his book.

“May I introduce you to Emil and Frances Bouchet.”

Murmurs circulated the room. Michael needed seconds to make the connection. No way.

They glided into the Commons as if levitating. Michael recognized the family resemblance.

“Yes,” Forsythe said. “James and Valentin Bouchet’s parents. Contrary to reports, they did not perish in SkyTower. I realize some of you may have a problem with their presence, but I assure you, they will be of great value to our mission.”

Emil stepped forward, waving off Forsythe.

“Yes, yes,” he said. “I see it in your eyes. Some of you remember what the SkyTower inquest determined about my wife and myself, but I guarantee the inquest was a miscarriage. And if you are concerned about family ties, allow me to settle your qualms. No two people alive want to see our sons dead more than we. Our allegiance is to the restoration of the natural order and reestablishment of the Collectorate. Now, if you please, Captain. We are exhausted and famished. Good day to all.” He eyed the room and spotted Michael.

“And especially you, Mr. Cooper. We will be speaking soon. Yes?”

Michael restrained himself. He wanted to protest, but suspicious eyes were already focused upon him. What was Poussard thinking? These two were convicted of crimes against humanity. They created the hybrids and the immortals.

As the meeting ended, Capt. Forsythe intercepted Michael.

“I apologize for that last bit of theatrics. I know their presence will be difficult for everyone. But we have to compromise if this mission is to succeed. I want us to reach Hiebimini. I want to bring the Bouchets to justice. And Michael, I want you to find that young lady you love. Emil and Frances are a means to that end.”

“So, you need me to play nice?”

He patted Michael on the back. “That would be appreciated.”

Later, at dinner, Michael told Maya about the Bouchets.

“I don’t care what they say, those two are in it for themselves. They’re the worst kind of Chancellors. Predators. Like the assholes who attacked you.”

He did not expect her response.

“Michael, every human is a predator at heart. Don’t you know this? Some of us are simply better at taming the creature within.”

“Damn. And I thought I was down on these people.”

“Get the Bouchets out of your skin, Michael. Remember: You have friends here.

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