Caleb arrived just in time for Orion to begin his briefing. The entire team sat around the conference room table, including both Caleb and Candace. Orion stood before the group and brought up a holographic projection of the ship that attacked Sanctuary.

  “Here’s what Sylva called the Obsidian Dreadnought. Scans of it taken during Malakai’s attack show that it’s definitely not from this world. But the good news is that it has a tachyonic signature we’ve been able to match and we can track it,” Orion began. “The bad news is it’s somewhere in the Spire.”

  “Why’s that bad?” asked Tom.

  “Chroniton displacement,” said Orion. “I know it sounds made up, but it’s a real problem we have to deal with. Since the Spire is constantly in a state of flux, teleporting directly into it is a challenge. It’s like trying to hit a target only a millimeter wide from a distance of about ten thousand yards away—in the middle of a hurricane while you’ve got the jitters. And the larger the mass you have to transport, the smaller that target gets.”

  “In other words, the Titans can’t get there,” said Rachel.

  “But we can?” asked Alexa.

  Orion gave a hesitant nod. “Yes…theoretically.”

  “Why don’t I like the sound of that?” asked Alexa.

  “Because it’s still a really small target,” said Tom.

  “And what happens if you miss?” asked Ethan.

  “We’ve got no damn clue, which is what makes things even scarier,” said Orion. “The Spire isn’t outer space, it’s more like inner space. So much of it hasn’t been studied to really know what it is. We know what’ll happen to you in space, and we know ways to make it survivable—mostly. But the Spire? We’ve got no clue.”

  “It’s a place where the laws of physics are basically bullshit,” said Caleb. “Best not to miss.”

  “Okay, so impossible shot, not the best idea.” Ethan looked at Caleb. “So, what options we got?”

  Caleb took a moment and breathed in. “Look, I literally just got here. I probably know as much as the rest of you—maybe even less. But way I see it, the only other option is you wait for them to come to you.”

  “And that’s not an option,” said Tom. “We don’t know when or where they might strike, and if we wait for them to ready their forces, there’s no telling how big a fight we’re looking at.”

  “Assuming it’s even something big. We don’t know what Sylva got out of this place when she broke free,” said Candace. “They may have data on the Quantum Group that would enable them to cripple us even more than we’ve already been.”

  “I’ve got a question,” said Olivia. “Say we make that impossible teleport, and we get on the Dreadnought. What happens then if we do need the Titans?”

  “Then you’re up Shit Creek in a leaky boat,” said Orion.

  “Does it matter?” asked Alexa. “Why don’t we just set some bombs and blow the thing up?”

  “Probably the most sensible thing,” said Orion.

  “What about the people onboard?” asked Ethan.

  “You mean the ones who are trying to kill us? Why should we care?” asked Alexa.

  “Because they’re still people,” said Olivia.

  Alexa scoffed and folded her arms over her chest. “They’re aliens, not people.”

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  “Humans have been saying that shit about other humans for centuries,” said Ethan.

  Alexa sighed, her eyes casting down. “You know what I mean.”

  “We don’t even know that all of them are terrible,” said Ethan. “Sylva told me that most of the people in her group are refugees.”

  “So we’re back to believing the psycho-bitch with the magic swords?” asked Alexa.

  “No, Ethan and Liv are right,” said Rachel. “We can’t take the risk that there are innocents onboard. Blowing up the Dreadnought should be a last resort.”

  “What if we brought the Dreadnought into our world?” asked Tom.

  “You mean the ship that we’re trying to keep out of our dimension, you want to just…bring it in?” asked Alexa.

  “He’s got a point,” said Caleb. “Take the leaders captive, give the refugees another chance. And if you need the Titans to come into action, now you’ve got that option.”

  “Problem is I don’t know if the Nexus could bring something that big through,” said Orion.

  “I’m not talking about the Nexus. The Dreadnought obviously has the ability to enter our world, so why not just activate it ourselves?” asked Tom.

  “Ask me what I know about operating the Dreadnought’s own teleportation functions,” said Orion. “Go on, someone ask.”

  Tom sighed and rolled his eyes. “Orion, what do you know about—”

  “Fuck all, that’s what,” said Orion. “So if I don’t know about it. what makes you think you do? You don’t know what the procedure is, the language of the interface, or hell, maybe it can only be operated by fucking song.”

  “I don’t know, but it beats waiting around for them to come to us with a full-on attack,” said Tom. “We know where they are, we can strike now when they aren’t expecting it.”

  “I agree on that last part, but I’m still in favor of the ‘blowing them to kingdom come’ idea,” said Orion.

  “Aside from it being fucking horrifying, isn’t slaughtering a bunch of refugees what got these guys on us in the first place?” asked Ethan. “We have to start repairing the damage that was done. Even if we personally weren’t involved, it was done in our names.”

  Orion shook his head, then looked over at Caleb. “Aren’t you in charge now? You gonna talk some sense into them about how crazy this plan is?”

  Caleb drew in a breath and stood from his chair. He focused his gaze on the Obsidian Dreadnought’s image, then looked around the table at each of the people he’d been put in charge of. This position wasn’t something he ever thought possible, but now he was in it, and he had to press on.

  “I’m sorry, Orion, but they’re right. We can’t make the same mistakes the Tribunal or whoever made. Even if it means taking a risk, that risk is worth it,” said Caleb. “The team will teleport onto the Obsidian Dreadnought, find a way to bring it through a breach, and then we deal with it.”

  “Putting aside the issue of whether or not we should, Orion still makes a valid point—what if we literally can’t do it?” asked Rachel. “Then what’s the plan?”

  “Then you set explosives, and get your asses back here,” said Caleb. “I only want that as a last resort, though. Otherwise, we try to keep the body count to the barest minimum.”

  Caleb stood in the Nexus, watching as one by one, the armored Knights vanished from the platform. He looked down at the monitor, to see whether or not they’d reached their destination. But the screen flashed a warning: [[ UNABLE TO DETERMINE LOCATION ]]

  “They’re completely on their own now.” Orion turned his head from the monitor to glare at Caleb. “I sure hope you know what you’re doing.”

  “So do I…” Caleb muttered under his breath.

  “In the meantime, I’ll make sure the Titans are ready for deployment,” said Orion. “Seems that’s the only useful work that’ll get done around here.”

  Orion left the Nexus. Caleb sat in a nearby chair in front of an unmanned console. A sigh escaped his lips. What if Orion was right, and he’d just sent five youths to their deaths—including a young woman he’d long thought of as a little sister?

  He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. Caleb turned to find the hand belonged to Candace. The doctor smiled at him, a gesture to ease his feelings of guilt. He returned the smile.

  “Tell me I did the right thing, Doc?” he asked.

  Candace’s smile faded. Caleb tightened his lips and looked down.

  “So much for small wishes.”

  “What I mean is I just don’t know,” she added. “Too many variables to consider. We won’t know with any certainty what the right call was until after the dust settles.”

  “You think Marcus would’ve made the same call?” he asked.

  “Does it really matter?” she asked. “Marcus was Marcus. If you get hung up on being the exact same kind of leader he was, then you’ve already lost. You’ll have to figure out your own way.”

  “Maybe…” said Caleb. “I’m just terrified about what will happen if I was wrong.”

  “Important to remember that Marcus was far from perfect himself,” said Candace. “Remember that three Knights died under his watch. Sometimes, there just aren’t any good calls.”

  Caleb scratched his bearded chin. He stared at the screen, still displaying an inability to locate the Knights. No other option than to just wait.

  He stood from the chair and walked over to the Nexus platform, recalling the last time he went on a mission from here. A mission that almost took his own life.

  Now all he could do was pray history didn’t repeat.