“A fork in the road is sometimes a knife in the heart.” B. E. S.

Besh stood beside Sam in the door of the sit-room. Sam was dressed officially, his presence was commanding. Besh looked from his friend to the Elite team and Heaven as they vied for seats in the front row. A covered table sat between them and a wall screen bearing the King’s mark, a dragon spewing fire.

Besh asked Sam, “Where’s Raul?”

“On the bridge,” answered Sam. “Checking out the weapons command.”

Cadet Shi’nese entered from a side door and placed a dark bundle atop the table. Sam strode forward, and Besh followed to take a seat behind Heaven. Shi’nese, prim in her violet jumpsuit, took a position near the wall screen. The King of Orlain stood beside the covered table, his arms folded across his chest.

“We are underway,” said Sam. “In two days, we will arrive near Uswaan space. The Co’Hwaul will be cloaked in the shadow of Uswaan’s moon, where the Garjan will be dropped. The Co’Hwaul will move forward as a decoy to lead the Uswaan vanguard away from your position. We will be close to their territorial space, and draw their full attention.”

Sam stepped away from the table and extended an arm toward the screen. Shi’nese brought up an image with the remote in her hand. She addressed the group.

“You will land here,” she said pointing. “The valley is a collapsed lava tube with brittle igneous rock formations. For the most part, you will follow a trail used by the Ruash de Mar. You will pick it up here.” She pointed again.

Saltry raised his hand and asked, “Will these Ruash whatever be wandering around?” 

Sam answered, “It is a timeworn trail between the compound and the brotherhood’s Southern-most conclave. There is regular traffic during guard change and supply.”

Shi’nese took over. “Your landing is timed between said occasions. Incidental encounters are a possibility.”

The screen went blank, and the dragon symbol returned. Shi’nese stood at attention near the table as Sam stepped in front of the seated team.

“The threat is real,” said Sam, “but, King Albert would not have recommended you without the utmost confidence in your abilities.”

Shi’nese stepped forward and raised her hands, holding a black gas mask. Sam said, “Heaven, please demonstrate.”

Heaven stood and took the mask from Shi’nese. She turned to the team and pulled the mask over her head. Sam said, “The air is foul.”

Shi’nese shook out a black robe and helped Heaven into it. Her new appearance was foreboding. Shi’nese said, “With your heads down, you will pass for brotherhood members.”

As Heaven returned to her seat, smiling, Sam said, “You will have protective E-suits underneath, Orlainese combat boots, and gloves. A body harness will hold your weapons in place. Lieutenant Colonel Driscoll.” 

Sam took a step back as Driscoll walked to the table. She turned and addressed the team. “Saltry will pilot the Garjan,” she said. “Besh and Heaven will lead the team, with Simone and Olaf. Hack will take up a rear sniper position.”

Shi’nese set the robes and masks on the floor and pulled the cover from the table. Driscoll stood straight and continued. “Mission objectives, and I’ll make this real simple, get in and get out with the package. Second, find and destroy the target.”

Driscoll turned to the table and turned back holding Orlainese ordnance. “Now, for the weapons. This is the Over Under. Over delivers long and short burst EBs. Under is a weaponized mining tool for removing solids. A sliding trigger controls both.” She returned the first item and held up the second, a long tube with a bulbous chamber at the business end.

“If I may,” said Shi’nese. “This is a prototype injector. It has proven effective in the transmission of solid objects through solid barriers.”

Driscoll said, “This will inject a fission device into the target with an effective range of ten kilometers. Fire and run like hell.”

Driscoll returned to her seat beside Heaven, and Sam stepped in close for a final address.

“The odds are not in your favor,” said Sam. He looked around, sharing a hardened gaze equally with each member of the team. “I want to apologize in advance. I feel as though I am sending you to your deaths.” With a deep breath, the King of Orlain looked up at the ceiling, and then back again. “It cannot be helped. I am fighting for the survival of Orlain. You are fighting for the survival of Pendragon.”

Sam turned and strode from the room. Team members looked between themselves. The Sit-room was silent. Shi’nese cleared her throat for attention.

“Please take a robe and mask with you as you leave.” Shi’nese departed through the side door.

Driscoll stood and barked commands. “Move it, team. Take a robe. Take a mask. I will assign ordnance when we are underway. Heaven knows our room assignments, so fall in.”

Besh knew the way. His room was the same, next to Heaven’s room. The team took remaining rooms in the enclave of general quarters. He sat in a comfortable chair in the lounge with his back to the shower room. Chatting happily in military jargon, team members availed themselves of Orlainese hospitality. Besh worried about Warrior, still in holding.

Hack returned to his room. Simone and Saltry entered Simone’s room, laughing and towel-clad. Whistling, Olaf left the shower and counted off the rooms as he passed. He looked around the empty lounge, gave a thumbs-up to Besh, and retired. Driscoll stepped from her room wrapped in a large blue towel. She stopped before Besh, and with a merry wink, nodded an invitation toward the shower room. Besh turned in his seat and hid his eyes.

Heaven passed Driscoll in the shower room door without a word and seated herself across from Besh. Wet hair fell over eyes and ears in loose cascades. She was wrapped in a black towel, and water stood on her skin in small rolling beads. Her normally infectious smile troubled Besh.

“You look uneasy,” she said, failing to cross her legs. “A hot shower will do a world of good.”

Diverting his eyes, Besh answered, “I have a bad feeling.”

Heaven said in a happy and relaxed manner, “The Doctor prescribes food, rest, and a hot shower.” She sat back and crossed her legs.

Besh looked cautiously at her and asked, “The Doctor?”

“Doctor Heaven,” was her reply. “The Doctor knows best.”

“Okay,” Besh said slowly.

With a wink and a smile, Heaven nodded toward the shower room. She said, “Driscoll likes you.”

Besh responded, “God forbid.” He felt the blood rise to his cheeks.

Heaven laughed and skipped to her room. Besh watched her disappear through the door. Guilt stung his conscience. What right did an old man have to such feelings? He frowned at himself; he was old enough to be her father. He was sure the Pirini laughed at his discomfort. Suddenly, Besh noticed that the sound of running water had ceased. Imagining Driscoll hitting on him, Besh fled to his room.

Besh sat on his bed in his black robe. He rubbed the rough fabric between thumb and forefinger as his mind wandered. True, Driscoll was more his age than not. The prospect of a liaison with Driscoll was frightening. Her aggressive manner assured him he would walk away bruised and deflated. Hazel was more his type, but his thoughts returned to Heaven.

When a knock came to his door, Besh realized he had been napping. He quickly looked at his wrist and saw that he had been asleep for the better part of an hour. Feeling a familiar presence, Besh pulled himself from the bed and opened the door. Warrior immediately nuzzled his hand. He ran through the room and returned to Besh. He was happy to see the dog; he had missed him. Besh stooped and ran his hands through Warrior’s thick mane.

“I’ve missed you,” said Besh. “How have you been?”

Warrior wagged and buried his face below the robe. Besh looked up to see Heaven framed in the door. Her smile was bright as she watched the reunion. She walked to the bed and sat. Warrior nuzzled between her legs and hands.

Besh stood with a grunt. “Thanks,” he said.

“Well, I missed him too,” said Heaven. Then she spoke into the dog’s face while mussing Warrior’s mane. “You’re such a good boy. Yes, you are.”

Besh smiled at the image. He said to Warrior, “On the bed.”

As Warrior obeyed, Heaven turned her smiling face to Besh. She said, “Now, that’s a fashion statement. You look good in black.”

Besh held up an arm and saw that he still wore the robe. He laughed lightly and sat beside Heaven. “Warm and cozy,” he answered.

Heaven assessed Besh with the eyes of a Detective. Feeling exposed, Besh pulled his robe close and looked away. He felt her hand on his knee and looked back.

Heaven said, “Sam wanted time with his son, so, the rest of us are eating in the crewman’s mess. Get ready, and I’ll take you up.”

“Right,” said Besh. He stood and removed the robe. “One last meal.”

Heaven replied, “Don’t put it that way.”