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Black wasn’t sure when she had gotten attached. It was supposed to be a run-of-the-mill sabotage job; infiltrate one of MIRA’s many ships, and make sure the unfortunates aboard didn’t make it home. The money was good; there were plenty of folks across the galaxy who would pay well for human blood spilled, and there weren’t exactly many other job openings for ‘parasitic shapeshifter’ available in Hegemony space.
The first part hadn’t been hard; MIRA research crews were all colour-coded, encouraged to refer to each other by colour alone and not name. It was supposed to be an efficiency thing, but it made slipping aboard one of their ships so much easier. All she had to be was Black, veteran MIRA cargo pilot; no need to fabricate a fake name or even a human appearance.
But then she had boarded the Skeld and immediately been greeted by the friendliest humans she had ever met. She was pretty sure Cyan had wanted to hug her, Orange had made a welcome cake for the new crew, and Green was a single parent with a stars-damned kid who MIRA had just shrugged and allowed on board. Even White, the Skeld crew’s strait-laced medical officer, had warmed up to her over their first week in space.
Which is why, somewhere on the homeward run from Polus, she had given up trying to convince herself her crewmates needed to die. Being the Skeld’s pilot had gone from just a cover to her actual job, and Navigation was starting to feel like home. The ship may have been falling apart, the cheapskates that MIRA were, but it was her ship now.
The job being a bust didn’t really bother her; it wasn’t like her employers could track her down. But there was a twinge of disappointment at the thought she would probably never see these humans again after they got back to Earth. It wasn’t like she could keep this facade up forever.
“Black?” a familiar voice, filtered by a space suit, cut through Black’s introspection. She spun the pilot’s chair around, forming a second pair of eyes in the back of her helmet to keep an eye on the readouts.
Blue was standing in the Navigation doorway. “I need to talk to you,” he said quickly. Something in his tone made her hackles raise.
“About what?” she asked bluntly. Through the half-transparency of his visor she saw him frown, and he stepped forwards.
“It’s our communications,” he said quietly, voice almost conspiratorial, “I tried to upload the last of the data, but MIRA have gone dark.”
“Dark?” That wasn’t a good sign.
“I got no response,” he explained. “It’s like they weren’t even there! The data upload’s supposed to be automatic, so they can’t just be busy.” He was panicking, his suit respirator hissing with his deepening breaths. “I thought maybe we should call an emergency meeting, but I didn’t want to worry everyone else.”
Black shifted just enough mass into her hands to give them a firm grip, then took Blue by the shoulders. Even through the suit she could feel him shaking a little.
“Easy there,” she said firmly, “breathe. Who else knows about this?”
“Brown,” he stammered out. “I had them check the antenna to make sure the issue wasn’t on our end. We agreed you and White should be the next to know, since you’re the most responsible.”
Under other circumstances, Black would have been flattered. But she couldn’t help the feeling of uncertainty in her multiple stomachs; maybe it was just how panicked Blue was, but she didn’t like this one bit.
“Let me check something,” she said quickly. She took her hands from his shoulders, turning back to the navigation screens and dissolving her extra eyes back into her body. With familiar ease she checked the signals; MIRA HQ’s navigation beacon was still up, broadcasting all-clear. “Nav beacon’s fine,” she muttered. “Maybe they’re just having technical issues at HQ?”
The other answer was one Black didn’t want to consider; HQ’s communications had been sabotaged. Had an Impostor made it into HQ? Was she flying her own crew to their deaths? She knew there was no way she could protect all of them from other Impostors and keep her own cover.
“It’s just a glitch,” she said firmly. “You know how MIRA is with technology.”
“Okay,” Blue said quietly; he didn’t sound convinced, but she could tell he trusted her.
“It’ll be fine,” she insisted. “We’ll be home tomorrow anyway.” Though she didn’t say it, that was what worried her most.
The Skeld dropping from warp was accompanied by the sound of half a dozen mechanical problems rearing their ugly heads. Patched wires re-fried their connections, the engines shuddered out of alignment, and the power distributor failed for what had to have been the fifth time since Polus. But that was par for the course by this point, and Black didn’t worry as she heard the others scurrying around to fix the problems.
Instead she turned her gaze outwards, to the myriad of ships cluttering High Earth Orbit, and immediately she knew something was wrong. None of the other ships were moving, hovering with engines idle. But that wasn’t what had her attention.
Directly ahead was a vessel so large it nearly blocked out the distant Earth itself. It didn’t even really look like a ship; every surface was studded with gun turrets, missile batteries, and armoured hangar bays, all piled on top of each other ahead of a massive jump drive. The whole thing was painted dull red and steel grey, marked with the emblem of the Hegemony of Man; a dreadnought, she realised, feeling her fluids run cold.
“Research craft: ‘Skeld’,” the pilot’s radio suddenly crackled to life, “this is HM Absolution. State your authorisation.” Distantly, Black was aware of footsteps behind her; some of the crew had come to see Earth, no doubt, but she didn’t dare shapeshift more eyes to check.
Instead she reached for the radio, hitting the button to transmit. “This is the Skeld,” she said slowly, keeping her voice as calm as she could, rattling off the codes. “Operating for the Magnusson Interstellar Research Association; authorisation Arx, Ferrum, Nine, Five; inbound from Polus with ten crew.”
“Skeld, all MIRA operations are currently suspended due to security concerns,” the Absolution’s reply came, cold and clear. “Authorisation revoked. Power off all systems but life support and await instruction. Any acts of aggression will be met with supreme prejudice.”
Suspended? Black couldn’t help jumping, nearly losing her form in surprise. Did they know about the Impostors, about her? They had to; why else would they do something this drastic? And if the navy had shut down MIRA then why were their nav beacons still up?
“Understood,” she radioed cautiously, powering down the engines.
This was a trap, she realised suddenly; the Hegemony didn’t want Impostors trying to steer ships away from Earth, or abandoning ship en-route. So they were keeping the navy’s presence secret from incoming ships. She gritted her rows of teeth, hidden under her spacesuit, trying to hide her unease at the revelation.
“Transport craft: Orvar,” the Absolution suddenly demanded, “power up engines and present at our port side. Your vessel will be scanned.” As Black watched a battered old freighter, nearly twice the size of the Skeld, lumbered away from the crowd of waiting ships and towards the dreadnought. It was another MIRA ship, she was sure.
The light of a scanner flashed from somewhere between the battleship’s guns, projecting a glowing hologram over the Orvar. It ran back and forth along the ship; no doubt they were checking for Impostors. That wasn’t good.
Black found herself scrambling to plan. As soon as they were called upon, everyone was going to know the truth; her only chance would be to slip away once the Absolution brought them aboard and hope the Hegemony believed the others when they said they hadn’t known. What else could she do, with all those guns pointed at the Skeld?
“Orvar, your vessel has been compromised,” the dreadnought announced coldly. “Termination authorised.”
It happened in an instant; there was a flash of laser-fire and the old transport was consumed by a fireball. The Skeld’s navigation room was lit up orange by the glare, and from behind her Black heard half a dozen gasps of horror.
Finally she turned around; behind her the room and the corridor beyond were crammed full, the entire crew trying to see past her. She didn’t need to see their faces to know how they were feeling.
“D-did they just…?” Blue asked helplessly. Before Black could say anything, White spoke up.
“Yes, they did,” she said calmly. “Everyone, remain calm; they’re clearly looking for Impostors. We have nothing to fear.” Worried murmurs still ran through the crowd; at the rear, Green was comforting their daughter.
Black felt like White’s eyes were boring into her, even behind her space suit’s visor. She had doomed them all, she realised; despite how much she wanted to protect them, how determined she had been to ignore her mission and bring them home safe.
Because the Hegemony didn’t care about any of that. It didn’t matter to the Absolution’s commanders that she hadn’t hurt anyone, or that she was one Impostor among nine innocents. All they cared about was ending the threat her kind supposedly presented by any means necessary. Suddenly, she understood why the rest of the galaxy hated humanity so much.
But looking over her crew again, at Orange helping Green comfort the kid, at Brown guiding Blue through a breathing exercise, at Cyan and Purple hugging, at the trust in White’s gaze, Black knew she couldn’t stand by. If there was any way she could save them, then by the stars she would do it, consequences be damned.
“Research craft: Skeld,” the radio crackled suddenly, “power up engines and present at our starboard side. Your vessel will be scanned.”
Gingerly, Black powered up the engines. There was a rumble, and she brought the ship in towards the Absolution. Her whole body throbbed with anticipation, hands nearly losing shape around the controls. Half-formed escape plans tumbled through her head, even as she saw a scanner light up on the dreadnought’s hull.
“Skeld, your vessel is compromised.” Oh, to the stars with it!
No human could have reacted as fast as she did. Her hands flew across the controls, two extra arms bursting from her chest to help. Flight assist off, radio silenced, throttle wide open, aft shields up, jump drive spooling. The Skeld’s hull screamed like a wounded animal; something exploded amidships.
And then they were away. A barrage of laser-fire ripped through empty space behind them. In her peripheral Black could see more turrets coming around, missile batteries arming. But she didn’t care. She threw the Skeld hard one way, then the other, faster than they could ever hope to track.
“What the hell are you doing?” White yelled, somewhere over the din.
“Saving you!” Black didn’t bother disguising her true voice anymore. She banked hard, feeling the old ship shake as fire slammed against her shields. Another hard turn brought them around the dreadnought’s aft, trailing missiles going wide and detonating in empty space.
She could see hangars opening up all along the Absolution, fighters scrambling. Something else exploded, giving way under the strain. More fire crackled and suddenly an alert flashed up; the shields were giving way. They couldn’t take much more of this. But the jump point was right ahead, just past the Absolution’s bow.
The Skeld’s engines screamed murder as she pushed them to the limit. With a deafening boom a missile struck home and took the shields with it. But then they cleared the bow, shrieking off away from Earth, and with a silent prayer to the stars Black threw the jump lever home. There was a flash, and the whole ship lurched, and in an instant the familiar stars vanished into the warp. They were away.
Exhausted, Black slumped into her chair. She didn’t bother turning around; they had all seen the truth now, so instead she just remanifested her head and helmet facing backwards.
Behind her the crew had all shuffled back down into the corridor. White stood at the front, glaring at her, and behind her Black could see the others eyeing her with mistrust and suspicion; she didn’t need to see their eyes to know how they felt.
“You’re one of them,” White said slowly.
“Always was,” Black replied, not sure what else she could say.
“What was your plan, then?” White demanded, stepping forwards. Nobody else dared speak. “Were you trying to reach Earth? Out with it!”
“I wasn’t trying to do anything,” Black admitted. “The job was to sabotage this ship, and kill you all.” There were a series of gasps from behind White.
“But you didn’t?” Blue asked nervously; White glared at him.
“I couldn’t,” Black explained, hoping against hope that they believed her. “None of you deserved it. You all welcomed me as a friend, and I didn’t want to ruin that.” Nobody moved. “If I’d wanted to kill you I would’ve picked you all off by now.”
“I trust her,” Blue said, quiet conviction in his voice.
“Me too,” Brown added, stepping forwards. Cyan followed, then Orange, then Purple, and one by one Black watched them grow less tense. White stepped aside, still glaring through her visor.
“I don’t trust you,” she said firmly, “I can’t. But I accept you saved us, at least; don’t make me change my mind.”
Black wasn’t sure what one human thought she could do against an Impostor, but she was in no mind to argue. She just nodded, head flopping back and forth.
“I hope you have a plan for where we go now,” Brown interjected. “I doubt the H-mon will forget that in a hurry.” Black paused, thinking it over; she couldn’t exactly go back to her employers, let alone her home planet, with an entire ship of humans in tow. But as she thought an idea arose in the back of her mind; there was one planet the Hegemony would never look for them on.
“I know where we can go,” she said finally, “just let me chart a course.”