“That’s the difference between you and … us.” Stacia watched her ex-crew begin to board the ship. A pang nagged at her heart. She had to admit to herself that she actually felt some sort of way about so many of her people leaving. Twenty of the hundreds on board still seemed like too many. Too many folks to be welcomed and treated as family but to be ultimately working against the interests of the community. One in particular drew her attention.

Hondo nursed a sprain in his wrist. Dina pushed her way through the gathered crowd. When he spied her, his mouth opened, but no sound came out. Not finding the words to ask her to join him. She held up her hand in a tentative wave goodbye. Not finding the words to want to leave the ship. Silently, he boarded the waiting shuttle, followed by several others. Stacia watched the ship clear the Cypher. She prayed that she was acting in the best interest of the community, not simply placing her son’s life above all others’.

On the command deck, Stacia wrapped her long braids within an Ashanti-patterned sheath. Unable to get comfortable in her seat, she crossed her legs. She leaned slightly forward, not anxious but with focused attentiveness. Her bracelets slid down the middle of her forearm. She tapped the console of her wrist and whispered the word Maya, hoping the AI might respond. But only silence hung in the air. “Dina, plot a course taking us through the wormhole.”

“Yes, Captain.” Dina kept the stiff formality between them like a shield, but she was still on board. Still part of the Cypher’s family. A tremulous note of fear filled her tone. “The Morrison and the Baldwin have vectored into an intercept course. Those are warships.”

“Warships that transport HOVA Brigades.” Stacia neared the view screen.

“We’re not going to win a firefight with them.”

“We’re not going to engage in a firefight with our own in the first place.” Stacia left no room for doubt or misinterpretation in her command. “Open a communication channel.”

Maulana Buhari’s image popped up as a holovid. The signal had been directed at the ships, which meant a command override was in place and the situation was under a Code Black / Eyes Only lock of the R.

“I … see you, Maulana.” Stacia’s voice remained even, not betraying a hint of surprise.

“I see you, too, Stacia. What are you doing?” His holoimage stood and approached her viewer. In the background, the Ijo’s security council watched on. He now occupied the seat Xola once filled.

“I need to cross the Orun Gate.”

“You aren’t authorized.”

“I know. But I have to go. The life of my son depends on it.” Stacia drew up her files. “Transmitting my Code Black / Eyes Only report to you now.”