Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Arthur slid open the door and stepped onto the bridge. In front of him the view screen displayed the vastness of space, stretching out infinitely in front of him. The view was only marred by the twenty or so other ships all lined up along the start line. A news droid buzzed by, lights blinking as it captured footage of the contestants before the race. In a few maltons’ time, once the winner has been declared, the footage would all be stitched together and broadcast across wide space for the average person to enjoy.
The lights of the bridge were dimmed slightly to give them a better view of the competition. Arthur recognized a couple of the ships. He was not familiar with any of the captains. Even if he had been, this would not have been the time to reach out for a social engagement. They were already competition for each other as haulers. The Regatta took the competitiveness to a whole new level.

“How are things looking?” Arthur asked and came to stand alongside Gwaine in the pilot’s seat.

“I have our course charted.” Elyan answered from the navigation desk, “As long as we maintain the speed Gwen promised us, we should make it to Tir-Mor station before the end of the nargon.”

“Excellent.” Arthur said and turned to Lancelot, “How are things going in the engine room?”

“Patching Gwen in on comms now.” Lancelot said and flicked a few of the switches.

Gwen’s voice came over the comms, proud and clear, “What do you need, Lance?”

“Gwen,” Arthur said, loudly enough so that the comms could pick up his voice, “I’m doing final checks. How are things on your end?”

“Engines are warmed up and ready to take off at a moment’s notice.”

“Thank you, Gwen.”

“Just doing my job.” she said cheerfully, and then the comms cut off as she returned to her work.

Lancelot turned in his seat and asked, “Are we ready to patch in the announcer?”

“Go ahead.”

After a short pause in which Lancelot clicked several switches and typed something into the console, the image crackled to life in the bottom right corner of the view screen. The announcer was a blonde woman. She’d been about Arthur’s age since Arthur was five, and no one quite new how she stayed looking like she was in her twenties for so long. Speculation abounded. Some thought she was a hyper realistic droid that the Regatta purchased, only for the manufacturer to realize she was too expensive to mass produce. Others suggested that they replaced her with a clone every few years. That theory relied on a storehouse full of clones in cryosleep, which didn’t seem realistic. Then again, if the Regatta could afford the prize purse they were offering, it might not be all that mad.

The announcer smiled at the camera with a sunny grin so wide it looked like it hurt, and said, “Welcome participants to the 201st Regatta! In just a few martrons you will set off on the adventure of the cycle! Your goal is to make the fastest time from Unified Camelot to Tir-Mor Station. Good luck and see you in the stars!”

The image of the announcer faded from the view screen, although the vibrancy of her neon green, low cut jumpsuit left a faint afterglow at the back of Arthur’s eyes, and was replaced by a timer. The text was white on a black background. Five martrons until the start of the Regatta.

“The coordinators are requesting access to ship’s logs.” Lancelot announced.

“Grant them access, but make sure their access self-destructs if they try to access anything outside of the logs they specifically requested.”

The last thing any hauler wanted was for someone to get access to their haul logs. Even clients who didn’t ask for illegal goods to be hauled were twitchy about anyone knowing what they were shipping. There were times that a client had tried to make Arthur haul without disclosing what was in the containers. If it had just been Arthur, he might have gone with it, but a good crew was hard to come by and his crew was the best. He didn’t trust anyone in the universe, but he trusted his crew.

“Limited access granted.” Lancelot confirmed.

“Running pre-flight checks.” Gwaine announced, and the timer in the view screen was reduced in size to make room for Gwaine’s checks.

He flicked through the systems faster than Arthur had ever seen anyone flick through them. He himself had top marks from the best flight school money could buy, but not even he could run a systems check as quickly and accurately as Gwaine. Nor was he as willing to take risks. Over cycles, Gwaine had pulled off daring maneuvers that would make the pilots Arthur trained with piss themselves. Admittedly, the first couple of times Arthur came pretty close. Now, ten cycles on, Arthur was used to Gwaine’s stunts and barely flinched.

“All systems go.” Gwaine said with a grin up at Arthur, “Ready when you are, Cap.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. He may be the captain of the Excalibur, but he didn’t like to stand on ceremony. The Excalibur was just as much his crew’s vessel as his. He’d even tried to make it official by appending the paperwork to declare the Excalibur as owned by all of them, but none of his crew had been willing to sign except Merlin. He declared that as he was first mate and would need to take over if Arthur were ever sick or injured, he needed the authorizations that only owners of the ship had. The rest of the crew had claimed they didn’t want the financial burden or responsibility placed on their shoulders if things went wrong. That didn’t stop Gwaine from teasing Arthur over his captain’s status at every possible turn.

The door to the bridge slid open again and admitted Merlin. He clearly had been down checking on Gwen before coming up. There was streak of grease at his cheekbone and a smudge of it on the cuff of his brown loose-fitting suede jacket. He waved hello to his friends and came to join Arthur at the pilot’s seat.

“All good?” Arthur asked.

Merlin nodded, “Stretched as far as I could, and didn’t sense anything out of the ordinary. With any luck, this will be a good clean run.”

Arthur punched him lightly on the shoulder in thanks.

Further conversation was cut off by Morgana’s voice coming over the comms from her office, “I’m calling a pre-flight meeting on the bridge. Please meet me there.”

“She does know she’s not the captain, right?” Merlin asked.

“Morgana is the boss when she wants to be the boss.” Arthur said with a shrug, “We knew that when we brought her on.”

Morgana arrived in the bridge ahead of the rest of the crew. Arthur left Gwaine and Merlin behind and came to join his sister. She gripped his forearm, black painted nails sharp even through the thick red suede of Arthur’s jacket. Her green eyes were wide with nerves. Arthur frowned at her. It wasn't like Morgana to get nervous about something like a regatta or a completion of a contract.

“What’s wrong?” Arthur asked in an undertone.

“I was going over the participant list.” Morgana said, “Auntie Nimueh is racing.”

“Don’t call her our Auntie.”

“That’s what she was until her falling out with Uther, and you know it.”

“Morgana, I haven’t seen the woman since I was ten cycles old, she’s hardly an aunt.”

“I’m not telling you because I think it will cause a family reunion.” Morgana said sharply, “I’m telling you that we should keep a special eye on her ship. You know she’s been fucking with Pendragon Galactic’s supply chain since she was made captain of the Avalon.”

“I’ll tell Elyan to attune the sensors to keep an eye on her, alright?”

“You're such an ass. I’m the one trying to keep the Excalibur from getting into trouble.”

Arthur raised his eyebrows. Morgana raised hers back. They were both remembering the spot of trouble they’d gotten into a nargon back when Morgana vouched for someone from school, and their contract turned out to be a set up to get the Excalibur boarded by Gawant Patrol Droids. By sheer dumb luck, they hadn’t been hauling anything illegal in Gawant Space, and were set free. It had been a close call though.

The bridge door opened once more and Gwen, Percival, and Leon entered. Percival had a bit of powdered egg substitute dusted across the front of his tight-fitting Arabella Montreal Mercia Space Tour t-shirt. Leon was dressed similarly to Morgana. Despite the two of them being the only non-haulers on the ship, they still insisted on wearing the style of clothes they were trained to wear in business school, dark suits and crisp white shirts. Although at least Morgana switched hers up with green or gold decorative stitching every now and again. Gwen had folded down the top of her jumpsuit and knotted the sleeves around her waist, leaving her standing in a pale pink undershirt. Her hair was pulled back out of her face by a silver clip.

“I wanted to go over the rules of the Regatta with all of you again.” Morgana said, “We really can’t afford disqualification.”

“We know that.” Arthur said testily.

Morgana ignored him and continued on with her speech, “The Regatta forbids use of any weapons. It doesn’t matter if we’re being attacked by another contestant or are facing down one of the beasts shippers swear lurk in the depths of open space, any discharge of weapons is an automatic disqualification. Same goes for FTL travel. The point of the Regatta is to prove who is fastest, not who can get the most light speed calculations.

“I will remind you that disqualification doesn’t just mean we are removed from this race, we are banned from all regattas in the rest of Albion Space. The Regatta and smaller races run by corporations alike. Disqualification also means we are required to pay a one hundred thousand credit fine to the organizers, and suspend our haulers license for the next cycle. Which of course means, we have to pay a five hundred credit registration fee because allowing your license to lapse for more than a nargon is a violation of Allied Galaxy Law if you wish to continue hauling. And frankly, I don’t think its good business sense to continue hauling on a suspended license. If we get caught in a police search again, we could be looking at a much larger fine or even jail time.

“So please. Don’t get disqualified.”

At the end of Morgana’s speech, the bridge was silent. The hum of the engines idling at the back of the sip and the faint whirring of the ship’s systems were the only things to be hard. No one dared to breathe.

“Thank you, Morgana.” Arthur said, breaking the tense silence.

Morgana sent him a deeply unimpressed look and muttered something under her breath. It was likely impugning Arthur’s intelligence, but he was used to it. Morgana liked to believe she knew best for every situation and was often irritated when Arthur, who had actually attended flight school and captained for the United Camelot military before he gave it up to be a hauler, proved to be more adept at running a ship than she did. Knowing more about business was never satisfying for her. She wanted to be right about everything.

Arthur took a few steps back so he was standing in front of the view screen. He wanted to be able to look at his entire crew as he spoke. Gwaine was in his usual comfortable dark trousers and loose fitting green-brown shirt, but for once he’d pulled his hair back. It was the only sign that he was taking the Regatta as seriously as the rest of the crew. He only pulled his hair back if he needed to focus. Elyan was wearing one of his many hooded vests (this one a sort of muted purple) over his dark grey, long sleeved shirt. Lancelot was dressed in all black. Merlin’s jacket had seen better maltons, it was more patch than jacket after all these cycles, and Arthur knew that Merlin would never use his cut of the money to get a new one, deeming it unimportant. His blue shirt had seen better maltons too.

As Arthur took in each one of his crew members, he made eye contact with them. Each one straightened under his gaze, determination overtaking their faces. Arthur had grown up with Morgana and Leon, but other than them he’d known Merlin longest. When he met his friend’s eyes, Merlin flashed him a bright, proud smile.

“We are the crew of the Excalibur.” Arthur said seriously, “And we’re the strongest crew on board any cargo vessel. We have a pilot who was raised by wolves,” here Gwaine snorted and let out a soft howl just to make the rest of the crew laugh, “a navigator who has the best head for figures I’ve ever seen,” Elyan did a little bow and smiled at Arthur, “an engineer who can keep our ship running on Dr. Roy’s Chewing Gum and hope,” Gwen smiled, looking a little flustered but pleased, “a first mate who is a massive pain in my ass, but whose gifts have gotten us out of countless scrapes,” Merlin’s proud smile spread into a grin, “a comms officer who has never dropped a call even when we should be out of sensor range and whose all black wardrobe says nothing about the quality of his character,” Lancelot huffed a laugh and murmured his thanks, “a gunner whose cakes are almost as good as his aim,” Percival puffed up his chest a bit in pride, “a businessman who is just as deadly with a contract as he is with a cannon,” Leon nodded solemnly, “and a contract manager and job coordinator who is more terrifying than either of the men who regularly handle the ship’s cannons.” Morgana looked a bit surprised at the compliment.

Arthur rested his hands on his hips and took a breath to refocus his thoughts, “There is no better crew to run the Regatta. I’m not asking you to do this as your captain. I’m asking you to do this for yourselves. We are already the fastest haulers in Albion Space. It’s time we proved it. When we win the Regatta, everyone will know to hire the Excalibur for their shipping needs. We will catch the attention of big corporations who will want to upgrade the fastest ship in the galaxy to gain the advantage of advertising, clients will know our name from the headlines and reach out to us as a proven entity, and best, of all, we will win the two million credit prize purse!”

At the mention of the prize purse, the crew let out loud cheers. Two million credits could turn their lives around. Arthur had done what he could with what money they earned. As much of it went into the ship as possible, and the rest was distributed equally among himself and the rest of the crew. It was never quite enough, though. General ship upkeep alone ate into the profits they made from hauling, and the bigger repairs were enough that they had maybe a hundred credits in the ship’s account. Arthur had been putting off necessary repairs for as long as he could. Two million pounds meant that they would be able to not just repair, but update all of the equipment that was sorely out of date and long passed its warranty. (If it even still had it by the time Arthur purchased the Excalibur.)

“For the Excalibur!” Arthur shouted.

There was a chorus of “For the Excalibur!” in response. Morgana wasn’t immune to the camaraderie though she would like to pretend to be. She cheered along with the rest of them.

“I should get back down to the engine room.” Gwen announced, “We have twenty ribecs until the start.”

Arthur glanced over his shoulder at the view screen. Sure enough, the timer was flashing a bright yellow 00:20. The change in color was likely to catch the attention of the captain and pilot.

Gwen rushed back out of the bridge to return to the engine room. Six ribecs later, Arthur could feel the engine shift from idle to pre-flight. Gwaine ran another systems check that took four ribecs. Lancelot opened comms to the announcer once more so they could hear the countdown together.

Merlin came to stand next to Arthur at the view screen, and nudged him with an elbow, “You’re right, you know.”

“I’m always right.” Arthur said automatically.

“I’m trying to compliment you, you prat.” Merlin said, “You assembled the best crew in Albion Space, and when the rest of the United Galaxy see that, things are going to change. We have nowhere to go but up.”

“Thank you, Merlin.”

Lancelot did something with the view screen and the timer took up the entire bottom half of the view screen. In bright red text, the timer stood at three ribecs. Two. One.

With a massive rumble, the engines came to life under their feet. Gwaine grabbed the stick, and shoved it, opening the engines to full throttle. The Excalibur shot into space, leaving the rest of the contestants behind near the starting line. The Excalibur wouldn’t be able to keep this pace up forever. The engines would overheat. As such it was even more important to get a head start from the other ships. By the time they reached Tir-Mor station, they wouldn’t have enough fuel for one last punch of speed. The route and timings had been planned meticulously with Elyan and Gwen for maltons after they registered to run the Regatta.

It was out of his control now. All Arthur could do was keep the crew motivated, and pray that their strategy paid off.

Chapter Text

“Anything to report?” Arthur asked through a yawn.

Gwaine’s eyes were wide and bit glazed as they darted back and forth across the controls of the helm. At Arthur’s voice, he turned and looked at Arthur with that same glazed expression. He’d been piloting for too long. A 12 marbec shift needed to be shortened. Not for the first time, Arthur wished that there were more pilots onboard than just himself and Gwaine. Most of the time it wasn’t an issue. They could take plenty of breaks when hauling, or enough that neither Gwaine nor Arthur piloted for more than 8 marbecs at a go. In the Regatta, that wasn’t a choice. They had to keep going for every ribec of every malton, or risk falling behind. The crew had agreed to exhaust themselves for the chance at the prize purse, but Arthur just hoped that the exhaustion was worth it. If he drained his crew and didn’t win, he would never forgive himself.

“Nothing suspicious to report.” Gwaine said unblinkingly, “All systems running normally. Elyan will be able to tell you where we are in the race.”

“Elyan?” Arthur asked.

“Ship’s sensors indicate that we’re at least two marbecs ahead of the next closest ship.” Elyan reported, “I think that places us in first.”

“Remind me to buy something pretty for Gwen when this is all over. If she hadn’t made those modifications to the engine, there’s no way we’d be this far ahead.”

Elyan turned in his seat. He looked as rough as Gwaine did. Bags had formed under his eyes, and it looked a struggle to keep his eyes open. He was smiling, but Arthur worried that at any moment, Elyan was going to slump over sound asleep.

“When was the last time you took a break?” Arthur asked suspiciously.

“I’ve been on for about 13 marbecs.”

“Get to bed.” Arthur ordered. He rarely used his captain voice, but he knew the people of his crew. They were all just as hard headed as he was, and sometimes they needed a direct order to make them give up the ghost. “I’ll get Gwen over comms and tell her to take over for you.”

“Hasn’t she been on duty in the engine room?” Elyan asked.

“The engines are running smoothly. If something goes wrong, I’ll see it on the console and Gwen can run back to the engine room. Get to bed. You too, Gwaine.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” Gwaine groaned and surged to his feet. He tapped the code into the console and transitioned the flight controls over to Arthur. Then he staggered from the bridge, already half-asleep on his feet.

After another ribec of hesitation, Elyan got to his feet as well. He offered Arthur a teasing salute, and shuffled out of the bridge. That left Arthur and Lancelot alone on the bridge.

“How long have you been on?” Arthur asked.

“Ten marbecs.” Lancelot said, “Merlin is scheduled to relieve me within the next marbec.”

“Any announcements we should be aware of?”

Other than the timer rolling through ribecs and martrons in the bottom right corner, the view screen was empty. All there was to be seen was the expanse of stars. Sometimes in the distance, a satellite would drift by or they would pass in the general vicinity of a planet, and the magnetic pull would cause arcs of color that would be picked up on the ship’s sensors and be displayed at the very edges of the view screen.

“Same as the last few maltons.” Lancelot answered, “No contact from the race organizer or announcers, and the other ships are keeping silent too. It’s quiet out there.”

“Thank the Goddess Uncaring for small mercies.”

Lancelot snorted. He didn’t believe in the Goddess Uncaring any more than Arthur did, but Arthur grew up in a household that worshiped it. His own mother had left a nargon after his birth to become a sister of the Order of The Goddess Uncaring. Some of the sayings were bound to stick.

“Contact the engineering channel and have Gwen come to the bridge.”

As Arthur settled in to pilot the Excalibur, Lancelot flicked a few switches to patch into the engineering channel. In a coaxing, low voice, he informed Gwen that she was needed to relieve Elyan on the bridge. Arthur ran his own systems check while he waited. He trusted Gwaine to do his job, but his brain was mush by the time he left the bridge. He might have missed something. The door to the bridge opened as Arthur finished checking the fuel levels.

“Morning, Gwen.” Arthur said as she entered.

Gwen made a noise in her chest as a reply and slumped into the navigation seat. She stared blankly at the censors. Arthur wasn’t overly concerned. Mostly he just needed Gwen there to make sure they wouldn’t crash into foreign objects. Debris left over from terraforming often wasn’t visible on the view screen until a ship was right on top of it. There was a disconnect between the sensors and the view screen that not even Pendragon Galactic’s engineering department had been able to work out. Gwen would wake up properly in a few martrons, and she was more than capable if interpreting sensor read outs while groggy.

The door to the bridge slid open again, and Arthur turned his head. It wasn’t time for Merlin to relieve Lancelot yet, and he hadn't called for anyone else to the bridge. Percival stepped into the bridge carrying a massive tray of food. He lifted it like an offering.

“I bring breakfast and Merulian Tea.” he announced.

“Thank you, Percy.” Gwen said, rushing straight for the carafe of tea, “We’d be miserable without you.”

Percy blushed, as he always did when someone complimented him, and Gwen returned to her navigation console with a mug of tea and a breakfast sandwich. Percival brought the tray over to Arthur, and he also took a sandwich and a mug of tea.

“When Merlin relieves you, there’s dinner waiting for you in the kitchen.” Percival said to Lancelot.

“Thank you.” Lancelot said gratefully, “Shouldn’t be long.”

Percival nodded, and set the carafe of tea next to the comms station. Merlin would probably drink the rest of the stuff and still need more. Out of all of them, Merlin was the one with the most stamina. Arthur had seen him stay up for two maltons straight before, and not look any worse for getting so little sleep. But when he did fall asleep, he was nearly impossible to get moving again, and he required lots of stimulants before his mind was back in working order. Morgana swore that it was because of how Merlin’s gifts worked, but Arthur thought it might just be Merlin.

Less than a marbec later, the door to the bridge opened once more and Merlin stumbled inside. His eyes were still closed, and he slumped gracelessly into the seat Lancelot vacated. Sometimes, Arthur envied Merlin’s gifts. His connection to all things mechanical meant that he could navigate the entire ship blindfolded or, as in this case, with his eyes still closed. He got an extra few martrons of sleep by being able to reach his seat without waking up properly.

Lancelot logged out of his comms, ruffled Merlin’s hair, and left to get his dinner form Percival.

Merlin dragged his eyes open logged into the comms, and poured himself a cup of tea. The bridge went silent after that. Gwen was already looking more awake thanks to the tea and sandwich, and Arthur was starting to feel the effects of it as well. Merlin, however, needed more time before he was fully coherent. Three cups of tea later, he sat up, blinked at Arthur with clear eyes and stretched.

“Anything to report?” he asked.

“No.” Arthur said and repeated, “It’s quiet out.”

“Good malton, then.” Merlin said and turned back to his console.

*

It wasn’t fair that Morgana looked that good. Granted, she had the advantage of makeup where Arthur did not, but his point still stood. Even if he was wearing makeup, he wouldn’t look as put together as she did. Other than Morgana, Merlin was the only other crew member who could wear eyeliner without it smudging, but he’d been too exhausted the last few maltons to apply it. Gwen might also have been able to wear makeup without smudging it, but she’d given up wearing it when she was twenty-eight cycles old and just learning the trick of engineering from her dad. Apparently engine grease and cosmetics didn’t mix. She broke out into painful bumps wherever they came into contact with each other. So not only did Morgana have the advantage of makeup, she was also the only one on board, excluding Leon, who was getting enough sleep. As their contract manager and job coordinator, she didn’t have to keep the same hours as the rest of the crew. She slept when there was no contract to attend to, and since they were in the middle of the Regatta, they wouldn’t be getting any contracts or jobs for at least a nargon.

She was able to relax. It wasn’t fair.

Her cabin on the ship was the same size as everyone else’s, but somehow she’d decorated it in a way that made it appear larger than the rest. There were swags of dark green fabric interspersed with dark fabric that was embroidered with copper navigation constellations. Her desk was sleek and narrow. Just big enough for her computer and some files. Her bed folded up into the sofa in one corner. It wasn’t the most glamorous look, but she knew that when Arthur offered her the job. She’d taken it anyway. She had been fighting with Uther more and more the closer she came to finishing her degree and it became clear that she had no interest in working for Pendragon Galactic. Joining Arthur had been her last act of rebellion against their father.

Today she wore a dark purple suit, embroidered with abstract runes. She’d gotten the descriptions of them from a history book she’d read and had been obsessed with them ever since. Sometimes, Arthur thought she and Leon shouldn’t be taking such a large cut from their payouts on contracts. They took on outside work that supplemented their income, while the rest of the crew relied on what they could earn off the contracts. It meant that Morgana could afford custom suits while Gwen couldn’t afford a hairclip.

“I think we need to discuss how we plan on spending the prize purse.” she said.

Arthur leaned back in the chair with a long sigh. Next to him, Merlin looked equally as pained. Discussing money left both of them with stomach aches. Only the three of them knew just how close the Excalibur was to going under. They’d kept their heads above water this long, but a nargon without a contracts would leave them scrambling for purchase if they didn’t win. It was rather sweet that Morgana was confident enough in Arthur’s crew to consider discussing the practicality of distributing a two million credit purse.

“We need a doctor.” Merlin said at last, “We haven’t had one since we had to fire Edwin six cycles ago. Planet side doctors are all either shady, or charge you a hundred credits for a Band-Aid.”

“We also need equipment.” Arthur pointed out, “We haven’t upgraded any of the ship’s parts in a few cycles. Gwen is a wizard with engines, but not even she is going to keep us limping along much longer.”

Merlin bobbled his head, considering. Arthur was right. The Excalibur was in desperate need of upgrades. Engines were the most desperate of the lot, and that would cost almost the entire purse to upgrade. It might be worth it in order to take higher paying contracts. Long Hauls were where the money was. They hadn’t been able to take those in a few cycles. Not since Gwen had to spend more and more time repairing engines. They wouldn’t need a doctor if there was no Excalibur to crew.

“The crew needs a pay rise.” Morgana said, “We haven’t given them one since before the ambush job.”

“We can’t afford that.” Arthur and Merlin said in unison.

Morgana raised her eyebrow disapprovingly.

“Look, we each take a ninth of whatever is left over.” Arthur explained, “But most of the money has to go back into the ship. We have to pay for food and water, general upkeep, which has already been lacking due to shortage, and the ridiculous dock fees. I’d love to be able to pay all of us more, but we can’t.”

“How much are the repairs to the ship going to cost?” Morgana asked.

“Just replacing the parts of the engine that are too worn out is going to cost half a million credits.” Merlin answered.

Morgana sucked in some air, “Why is it so expensive? Last time I checked into the cost, the high end engines in Albion Space were only a quarter of a million credits.”

“There was rebellion on Ridge of Chemary.” Arthur explained, “Locals got tired of everyone mining the ore to make engines.”

Morgana made a distressed face and typed the estimate into her computer. “What are the other repairs that need to be done?”

“Sensors need to be upgraded.” Merlin answered, “It’s getting to the point where my gifts have further reach than they do. If we want to take long hauls that take us into Open Space then we need sensors that boost my abilities again.”

“How much is that going to run us?”

“Another quarter million.”

“I’ll check with Leon and see if there’s any contacts we have in one of the shipping corporations that might get us reduced prices on these.”

“You know,” Merlin said, “there is one sure fire way that we could get reduced prices on the upgrades.”

Sensing where Merlin was going with that line of thought, Arthur turned on him and said sharply, “Don’t even suggest it.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Arthur,” Morgana reprimanded, “we need to explore all of our options.”

“He was going to suggest I run home to father and ask him for help.”

Morgana stiffened in her seat, “Oh.”

“Yes, oh.”

Merlin held his hands up in surrender, “I know. You’re trying to live life the way you want to live it, not the way he wants you to. I’m not suggesting you go crawling back and take up as vice president of Pendragon Galactic. I’m just suggesting that we could make a business deal with him. Let him plaster Pendragon Galactic ads on the side of the Excalibur until we finally pay back the cost of the repairs and upgrades.”

“No!”

“I agree with Arthur.” Morgana said firmly, “We don’t want to be in the pocket of Uther Pendragon. Not even if it’s just for one cycle.”

“Okay.” Merlin said, “It was just a suggestion.”

“A bad one.” Arthur muttered.

Morgana and Merlin both ignored him.

“Other than sensors and a new engine, what other expenses are there?” she asked.

Arthur scrubbed a hand over his face, “Our shield system needs an upgrade. It draws so much power these days that we move at quarter speed while they’re activated. We turn into a giant space tortoise.”

“And that is going to take up the rest of the budget?”

“Probably will exceed the prize purse.” Arthur admitted, “We’d have to dip into the existing funds which are already dwindling.”

“Then we prioritize.”

“Engine is most important.” Merlin said, “Sensors least. I can keep compensating for now.”

“Are you sure?” Arthur asked. “I’ve seen what happens when you over exert yourself. Last time you had headache for two maltons.”

Merlin shrugged, “It’s not the best solution, but shields will protect us better than sensors will.”

Arthur hated that Merlin was right.

“Alright. We make engine and shield our top priorities. Depending on if you and Leon can work out a deal, then we’ll see what we can do about sensors.”

Morgana nodded and jotted all of that down. “I may know someone in Cenred Interplanetary.”

Arthur winced and shook his head, “Their work is crap. We’d be replacing old and worn with cheap.”

“Fine. If you’re going to be so picky, I’ll look into the other companies. I assume you won’t purchase form Pendragon Galactic?”

Arthur hesitated. The only manufacturer that created higher quality than Pendragon Galactic was Cauldron of Arianrhod, and that didn’t do business within the Allied Galaxies. Plus they were expensive. The quality made it worth it, but it would cost all two million credits to replace the engine with an Arianrhod brand engine. Pendragon Galactic was almost as good quality, less expensive, and infinitely more customizable. Gwen would be able to modify it to her heart’s content.

“If you can find a way to make it affordable and disguise that we’re the ship purchasing it, then we can purchase form Pendragon Galactic.”

As loathe as he was to be in his father’s pocket, he would pay for it if it meant the Excalibur could stay afloat for just a bit longer.

“I’ll look into it.” Morgana promised.

That was their cue. Merlin and Arthur got to their feet and left the room before Morgana could call them back and demand any more details about the ship. When she got on a tear, she was terrifying.

“Percy made a cake.” merlin said, “You almost can’t taste the powdered egg in it this time. Want to grab a slice?”

Arthur shook his head, “I want to check in on the bridge. Make sure nothing exciting happened while we were locked up with Morgana.”

Merlin shrugged and said, “I’ll save you a slice.”

Arthur split off from Merlin and went to the bridge. It was only three or so marbecs into the new shift, and no one was feeling the drag on the long shift yet. Gwaine was cracking jokes that was making Elyan roll his eyes. Lancelot was leaning comfortably back in his seat, earpiece around his neck.

“Anything to report?” Arthur asked.

“Still two marbecs ahead of the next closest ship.” Elyan said, “other than that, nothing unusual on the sensors.”

“All systems are running as normal, and have been confirmed with Gwen.” Gwaine answered.

Lancelot lifted one shoulder, “It’s quiet out there.”

Chapter Text

Arthur startled awake and sat up. His heart pounded in his chest, and for a moment he thought he’d only experienced it in a dream. It was bound to happen. Most people dreamed of falling from a large height and waking up before they hit the ground. Haulers, and anyone else who made their living in the Great Void, dreamed of ship failure or attacks. Space was a lawless place. As long as no one caught am ship violating a rule they actually cared about, they didn’t care what haulers and their ilk did.

A ribec later, Arthur’s worst fears were confirmed.

Alarms blared, ringing in discordant melody as it echoed off the metal hull of the Excalibur. The lighting in Arthur’s cabin flicked on and was replaced with flashing red lights.

A red alert during the Regatta? What the hell was going on?

Arthur threw himself out of bed and stumbled into his trousers. He didn’t bother with a shirt or boots. It’s not like his crew hadn’t seen him half naked before. Besides, every person on board saw Gwaine’s dick at one point or another.

He stepped out into the hallway. There was an almighty crack and the ship rocked. Arthur clutched onto his doorframe to keep from being knocked over with the force of the blow. The rolling sensation he felt wasn’t just in his dream. Something was going on with the ship.

Once he regained his balance, he set off at a dead sprint to the bridge. The door was already open and waiting for him as he charged in.

Gwaine had a death grip on the helm, trying to keep the ship steady. Elyan was hunched over the navigation desk, calling out sensor readings to anyone who would listen. Lancelot was shouting furiously down the line to no avail. The view screen showed nothing but the continuing inky blackness of space.

“Report!” Arthur shouted.

“We’re under fire.” Lancelot reported, throwing his earpiece aside, “I’ve tried contacting the ship responsible but they won’t answer.”

Arthur’s stomach clenched. This was hardly the first time the Excalibur was attacked, but there was something about it happening during the Regatta that sat wrong with him. All ships were required to give up their logs for final inspection at the end. It was to ensure no cheating had taken place after the ships fell out of range of the organizers’ sensors. People had been disqualified for malfunctions before, and they had the best experts in the galaxy check over the flight logs at the end. Logs were combed meticulously for signs of doctoring or interference. If someone was attacking them, then it wasn’t because they wanted to win. It was because they wanted Arthur to lose. It was personal. That made his skin crawl.

“Did we take any damage from the blow?” he asked, shoving aside his worries for now.

“Gwen said she’d come over comms to let us know. She got the alert a few ribecs before you got here.”

“Understood. Elyan, do we have a lock on the other ship?”

“Sensor readings are picking up a magnetic frequency consistent with a ship, but I can’t locate the ship itself. It’s either out of range of our sensors, or they have a cloaking technology that actually works.”

“Or works well enough to fool our out of date sensors. They only needed to fool us.”

“I’ll keep working on it, but we might need Merlin.”

“Your recommendation is noted.” Arthur said. Pulling Merlin in might not be a bad idea, but he wanted to hold off. If Merlin overexerted himself, then they would lose his gifts for maltons. If this was a personal attack like Arthur thought, this wouldn’t be the last interference coming their way. “Lancelot, make a ship wide announcement telling people to go to battle stations.”

Lancelot whipped back around in his seat, flicked he switch to open a channel ship wide. His voice came out tinny and distorted through the speakers, requesting all crew report to their designated battle stations. It took a couple martrons, then they got their first call back. Percy reported that he was at gunner station P. A couple of ribecs after that, Leon announced he’d reached gunner station L.

“Prepare to fire on sight.” Arthur announced, loud enough that Lancelot’s earpiece could pick it up.

Gwen’s voice came over the comms into the bridge, “I cleared the alert. Quarter shields were enough to deflect the blows so far.”

“Understood, Gwen. Please standby for any repairs that might need to be made.”

The bridge door slid open, and Morgana stormed inside. Her hair fell in loose waves around her shoulders, and like Arthur she hadn’t bothered to put on any shoes. Unlike Arthur, she wore a matching silk pajama set.

“Don’t you dare use weapons!” she ordered.

It was loud enough to be caught by the comms channel to the gunners. Arthur could hear Percy and Leon asking Arthur if they should still be prepared or if they were meant to listen to Morgana.

“In case you hadn’t noticed,” Arthur said acerbically, “someone is currently trying to destroy the Excalibur.”

“It doesn’t matter! The race organizers strictly prohibit the use of any weapons. If we fire back, we’re disqualified.”

The bridge fell silent. The alarms blared in the background, but no one else spoke. Lancelot had stopped yammering down the line, and was sitting very still, watching Arthur and Morgana. If they got disqualified, it was as good as destroying the Excalibur anyway. They wouldn’t be able to afford the penalty fees, let alone make the necessary repairs.

“Lancelot, contact the race organizers. In the contract packet they said their help line was open 25 marbecs a malton. Explain what’s going on and ask permission to fire back without disqualification.”

The Excalibur shuddered under the force of another blow. Arthur grit his teeth and dug his fingers into the back of the pilot seat to keep form stumbling. Next to him, Gwaine was eerily silent. His eyes were narrowed and focused entirely on the system controls in front of him. He was flicking through three system checks a ribec.

Across the room at the communication desk, Lancelot was tapping his foot impatiently as the voice of the announcer said, “Your call is very important to us, please stay on the line.”

Finally a bored voice came through and said, “This is the help line for the Regatta. If you were attempting to contact General Akata, please keep in mind that his contact information is closely guarded by the Military Federation of the nine Planets of Greater Allied Void Space.”

“This is a participant in the Regatta.” Lancelot said sharply, “call sign Excalibur.”

“One moment.” the bored voice said and the line went mute, then, “Go ahead Excalibur.”

“We’re under fire. Shields are holding for now, but we can’t hold forever. We are requesting to fire back at our assailant without disqualification from the Regatta.”

“Repeat, Excalibur. You’re being fired upon?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know whether it’s another participant or if it’s an outside attacker?”

“Why does that matter?”

“The Regatta does not interfere with outside attacks. Entities such as the Space Brigade of Daboeth, Repo Reapers, or other organizations that may have a contract out for your ship can interfere as long as they don’t disrupt the integrity of the Regatta. The Regatta is not in a position to prevent other entities from collecting said contracts.”

“Our sensors can’t get a lock on who it is, but there should be no reason why there is contract out on us. None of us have taken a loan out for equipment and that eliminates Repo Reapers. Neither have we traveled outside of Albion space in six cycles, so there should be no reason Space Brigade of Daboeth should have a warrant out for us.”

“I can check the databases to see what contracts may have been taken out, if you like.”

“Yes!” Everyone on the bridge shouted.

“Stand by Excalibur.”

Arthur held his breath, drumming his fingers anxiously on the back of Gwaine’s seat. Gwaine blinked a few times, coming back to the reality of the situation. He squinted up at Arthur and offered a cocky grin, “Still not as scary as the time you were backed in by Jarl. Thought you and Merlin were going to lose your ship in that one.”

There was another as a blow struck. Then the Excalibur listed as another blow landed against the shields. The attackers weren’t giving them time to recover between blows now.

“Anyone not strapped in, strap in now!” Arthur ordered. He turned to Morgana, “your battle station is meant to be your cabin.”

“I’m not going back there now. I’m staying right where I am and making sure you don’t violate the terms of the contract.”

There was no use arguing with her when she got like this. She wouldn’t listen.

“Fine. Find a place to strap in.”

Morgana folded down one of the jump seats at the back of the bridge and strapped herself in. The Excalibur had never been fitted with a co-pilot seat. When Arthur first bought it, he was the only one on board who knew how to fly, and he had no co-pilot. With Gwaine on board now, there was still no point in getting a co-pilot seat. They traded off piloting shifts when they got tired. It worked better that way than trying to co-pilot for one another. But that meant that Arthur had to strap himself into a jump seat as well. He managed to click the seatbelt into place right as the Excalibur’s hull creaked menacingly under the onslaught.

“Come in Excalibur.” the bored voice said.

“Excalibur here!” Lancelot shouted to be heard over the groaning.

“I checked the database and it appears that there are no active warrants. I contacted my supervisors, and they said that they cannot authorize use of force without disqualification against another participant. However, they will make a special exemption under the circumstances. Firing back will get you disqualified, but you will take no penalty for the disqualification.”

“Clarify!” Morgana shouted, a contract woman even in the midst of a fire fight.

“They agreed that you will not have to pay the fee, nor be banned from races, and no mark will be added against your haulers license.”

“Give me your supervisor’s name!”

The bored voice repeated it and told her the spelling upon her insistence. Morgana pulled her palm tablet out of her pocket. He thumbs flew over the screen as she typed he name into whatever search program she kept loaded on there.

“Shields dropping!” Gwaine announced, voice uncharacteristically tight.

“Hurry up Morgana!”

“Just give me…” Morgana muttered and then nodded, “I’ve found that the supervisor does have the clearance to make that offer. Arthur, you need to state your name and agree to it for the verbal contract to be binding.”

“I, Arthur Pendragon, agree to these special terms that if we fire in self-defense upon the ship currently attacking us, then the penalties associated with our disqualification will be waived.”

“I, Gili Treadwell on behalf of my supervisor--”

“Absolutely not!” Morgana snapped, cutting him off.

“Morgana!” Arthur hissed, “What are you doing?”

“Get your actual supervisor on the line!” Morgana shouted over the sound of Gwaine cursing and trying to hold the ship steady, “You’re help desk. You don’t have the qualification to be signing on behalf of anyone.”

The line went dead for a moment, then a new voice returned, “This is Regatta Organization Supervisor Finna. What can I help you with?”

“We would like you to sign the verbal contract worked out here!”

“Please state your call sign.”

“Excalibur.”

“Right, I see the amended contract here. I, Regatta Organization Supervisor Finna, hereby agree to the terms that firing in self-defense on the vessel attacking you will result in disqualification, but will not come with the usual penalties associated. Excalibur will still be allowed to participate in regattas and other races without a black mark on their hauling license, or paying the one hundred thousand credit disqualification fee.”

“Thank you!”

“See you in the stars.”

As soon as that comms line went dead, Gwen’s voice came crackling over the engineering line, bellowing about shield integrity and damage to the hull. As if to emphasize her point, another barrage of cannon fire hit the ship. Gwaine swore even louder and did a complicated maneuver with the steering that made Arthur’s stomach lurch.

“Elyan,” Arthur shouted, “do you have a lock on theother ship yet?”

“Negative.” Elyan reported, “I’ve narrowed it down to a patch of space thank to the radio signature of their plasma canons, but the sensors aren’t strong enough to narrow it down because of the ship’s unusual magnetic distortion.”

“Our chances of hitting if we fire?”

“Low.”

“So we could get disqualified and lose the chance at the prize purse, and still be blown up?”

“Yes.”

Arthur sighed and dragged a hand through his hair, “Lancelot, contact the gunners, let them know to continue standing by. We’re going to try to make a break for it. Gwaine, direct all non-essential power to the thrusters, let’s try to out run them.”

“We’ll lose fuel!”

“Not if we redirect power from elsewhere on the sip.” Arthur insisted, “Pulling from the kitchen and turning off life support in all the cabins. Everyone is s at battle stations, they don’t need life support in unoccupied spaces.”

Gwaine didn’t respond, but he released his death grip on the helm and started flicking through the systems again, shutting off power in places that wouldn’t need it until after they got out of the scrape. Lancelot went over the comms ad repeated the plan to Gwen without having to be asked.

The bridge door slid open and Merlin stumbled inside, using the wall as balance,

“Where the hell have you been?” Arthur yelled, “You were meant to be at battle stations ten matrons ago!”

“I was trying to sense the other ship from my cabin, but it’s too far away for me to reach. I need the boost from the sensors.”

“Relieving my post to Merlin!” Elyan announced and released his seatbelt. He stumbled to the last jump seat at the back.

Merlin stumbled to the navigation desk at the front of the bridge and strapped himself in. He pressed his hand flat against the console, and his eyes flickered that strange electric gold that meant he was using his abilities. He didn’t move. It wasn’t surprising. He’d be locked in there for the next couple of martrons. The further away something was, the more difficult and time consuming it was for him to sense it, even with the help of mechanical sensors.

“All power has been turned off in nonessential areas.” Gwaine announced, “Gwen, most beautiful woman in all of space, how are we looking?”

“Engine is primed. Ready for redirected power when you are.”

“Redirecting power in three, two, one.”

There was a rumble loud enough to drown out the creaking of the shields and hull. The Excalibur gave a mighty shudder under Arthur’s feet, and went sailing forward. The last shot bounced off the stern of the ship, but there was no flashing warning on the view screen.

“I can't get a read.” Merlin announced, “I can sense the ship itself and the engine, but not the crew. It’s just a vague impression of people. Nothing but silhouettes.”

“Meaning?”

“They have to be using psychic dampeners.”

Psychics like Merlin were rare. In the hauler profession, they were even rarer. They tended to be employed by big galactic wide corporations for industrial sabotage, or by police brigades to disarm the crew they were attempting to arrest. No one outside of the Excalibur knew that Merlin was psychically gifted. There was no reason the other ship needed to lose power better put into their systems by engaging psychic dampeners; unless they somehow knew about Excalibur’s resident psychic.

“You said that you can feel their engine?” Arthur asked.

“That’s about the only thing I can feel clearly.” Merlin answered.

“Disable it.”

“Will that get us disqualified?”

Arthur turned to Morgana, eyebrows raised in question.

“No.” Morgana answered, “It prohibits a whole list of weapons, but has no clause prohibiting the use of physic abilities.”

“Disable it.” Arthur repeated to Merlin.

Eyes still crackling with electric gold, Merlin turned back into the sensor console. He bent his head, eyes closed. An incomplete flicker appeared on the view screen as Merlin stretched the abilities of the sensors to the farthest he could, giving himself a better chance at the engine. He was murmuring to himself. He swore that it wasn’t spells, but Arthur had never been convinced. The Cosmic Veil, the Void, Space, whatever you liked to call it was vast and endless. Why couldn't’ magic exist in some form or another?

The Excalibur stopped creaking. No more shots were fired.

Arthur would thank Merlin later. Right now he needed to keep his concentration.

Gwaine was piloting the ship at full throttle. For one, shining, brilliant moment, Arthur thought they had made it. That they'd played everything right and were going to leave the other ship in the dust. He would have been more comfortable if they could have gone FTL and left the other ship wondering where the Excalibur had jumped to, but they were still gaining ground.

Then the Excalibur gave a mighty heave and the engines cut off. The only thing powering the Excalibur was their forward momentum. Backup generators clicked to life, keeping life support and the like on, but that wasn’t enough to power thrusters, or guns. Arthur’s only consolation was that because of Merlin, the other ship was in the same predicament.

Lancelot’s hands flew over the comms system and opened a channel to Gwen without Arthur having to ask, “Gwen! What happened?”

“Engines overheated.” Gwen replied, “I’m doing what I can to cool them down, but they’ve been patched so many times, they couldn’t handle the abrupt change in power.”

“I’ll head back to help her.” Elyan announced and unbuckled form the jump seat.

Arthur unbuckled from his jump seat as well. Gwen might need an extra pair of hands. Normally, as his first mate, Merlin would be left in charge of the bridge once Arthur stepped off, but he was stuck deep within the engine of another ship, and Arthur wanted him to stay there. Technically speaking, Morgana had no claim to command the bridge, but he needed Gwaine and Lancelot focused on their tasks.

To Gwaine, he said, “Get our shields up in case Merlin’s concentration breaks.” then he turned to Morgana and said, “You have command of the bridge.”

“Understood.” she said. Her eyes were wide with nerves, but Arthur had to give her credit for how calm she was being in this crisis.

Arthur ran down the corridors of the Excalibur. Gwaine had drawn power from the lighting to give the thrusters an extra boost, but the backup generators could only power so much. Life Support had been turned off in all cabins, the kitchen, and any other unoccupied space. Jogging down the partially lit corridors tickled the back of Arthur’s brain. A deep instinctual part of himself rebelled against going into the dark when there was an enemy on the loose. It didn’t matter that the enemy was not on board. His brain didn’t care.

He slid open the door and dropped down the ladder into the engine room. It was boiling. Heat radiated off of the metal and sweat formed under the waistband of Arthur’s trousers. Elyan had removed his own shirt in an attempt to beat the heat. Gwen’s hair was piled high on her head, and even though she had a personal safety rule about never working around an engine without her arms, chest, and legs covered, she too had rolled down the top of her jumpsuit.

“We don’t have enough coolant.” she announced as Arthur stepped up.

“How long will it take if we wait for it to cool on its own?”

“At best, twelve marbecs. At worst, a full malton.”

“Merlin can’t hold concentration on the ship for that long. If he loses concentration before we get the Excalibur running, it’ll be a sitting duck. Shields took too much impact damage.”

Elyan swiped some sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, “Then we have to vent the heat somehow. It’s not going to get any cooler if the air doesn’t get a chance to cool.”

Gwen’s eyes widened and she squeezed Elyan’s bicep gratefully, “We vent the heat!”

Arthur and Elyan both looked at her blankly.

“There are vents all over the Excalibur in case we ever bring a toxic contaminants on board. All hauler class vessels have been fitted with them since the U4F started destroying manufacturing plants in protest. They lost one too many union members to toxic contaminants, and got fed up.”

“So you’re saying we literally vent the heat?” Arthur confirmed.

“Exactly.” Gwen agreed, “We trigger the toxic contaminant protocol for the engine room. It will vent all the air out of it, and leave it open to the vacuum of space so that the air doesn’t recirculate. The engine will leech heat, and cool enough to get us going. If we leave the vents open for a few marbecs, then the heat will continue to leech into space and the engines won’t over heat. Once we’ve put distance between ourselves and the enemy ship, we can close it back up.”

“Won’t debris get into the engine if we’re traveling with the vents open?”

“Possibly.”

“It’s a risk we should take.” Arthur decided, “We can always idle somewhere and come to clean it out later.”

“Alright. We can engage the protocol from down here using your authorization as captain.” Gwen said.

Arthur, Gwen, and Elyan left the engine room and made sure the door was shut and air locked behind them. Arthur made his way over to the engineering comms and directed it to the bridge.

“Arthur to bridge crew.”

“Here.” Lancelot’s voice came through the comms loud and clear.

“We have a plan to cool down the engine. We’re going to engage contaminant protocol and hopefully it will expel the heat enough to get us going.”

Merlin’s voice came over the comms next, “The power shut down has left the sensors shortened. I’m barely within range of the ship to keep their engines disabled as it is. As soon as we move, they’ll be able to come after us at their full force.”

“Understood.” Arthur responded, “Then this will be all about timing. We’re going to need to be ready to take off at full throttle the second the engine is cool. Gwen will monitor the temperature from outside the engine room, when the engine is cool enough, I want Gwaine to prime for a hot exit. Count down, then Merlin I want you to drop concentration on disabling their engine, and I want you to send out one last pulse of energy. Hopefully it will disrupt their systems enough to give us a head start.”

“What about the refueling?” Gwaine asked.

It was Gwen’s turn to hop on the comms and answer, “We’ll just have to draw from the fuel from backup generators and hope that it’s enough.”

“We’ll plot a new course once this is all over.” Elyan assured, “We’ll find a new route that makes the fuel reserves work.”

“Plan is understood and agreed to, Captain.” Merlin said.

Arthur’s palms began sweating and he wiped them on his trousers. Merlin only called him captain when he wanted everyone to believe in Arthur’s abilities as much as he did. This was a risky plan. Engine power would all be redirected form life support, guns, and shield in order to make the hot exit work. If the engine crapped out again, the Excalibur would be left a floating husk. The only other option was to take their newly regained power and use their guns, but they could take too many shots in the process of locating the enemy ship and leave the Excalibur disabled anyway. Running was their best shot.

“See you in the stars.” Arthur said and silenced the engineering comms. He walked over to the computer located outside the engine room and entered his credentials. He navigated to the map of the Excalibur’s protocols and systems, and keyed through until he found the contaminant protocol. He located it for individual rooms, once more engaged the comms to the bridge, and looked up at Gwen, “Engaging contaminant protocol in three, two, one.”

He hit enter. There was a great rumbling gush of air as it exited the now open vents in the engine room. Thankfully the Excalibur was not knocked out of range by the thrust. Gwaine must have vented air from somewhere else on the ship at the same time to compensate, the madman.

“It’s working.” Gwen said, pulling up a temperature reading on the back up computer, “Temperature is dropping.”

“Let the bridge know when it’s reached the right temperature for our hot exit.”

Tense silence fell. It was like the crew was collectively gritting their teeth, waiting for something to happen. Arthur spared a thought to Merlin up in the bridge. He’d been holding contraction on disabling the enemy’s engines for nearly half a marbec now. He was going to have a terrible headache when all was said and done.

It took another ten martrons before Gwen smiled and dashed over to the comms. But given that her previous estimate put them at marbecs or maltons, martrons was nothing.

“Engine is cool enough for exit.” she announced.

“Understood.” Gwaine said, “Arthur, I need you to override the system. It won’t let me engage engines while we’re still venting.”

“Understood. Overriding now.”

Arthur pulled up the system warning flashing in the bottom right of the computer screen and punched in his captain’s code to override it. He had to click the acknowledgement three times before the computer finally accepted that he knew what he was doing. Normally he would be grateful for the caution built into the systems, but right now he was biting his lip shard enough to make it ache.

“Warning overridden.” Arthur announced.

He was met by silence, then Gwaine’s voice returned a martron later and said, “Engines primed. Beginning countdown to exit. Merlin confirm.”

“Confirmed. Hurry up, I don’t think I can hold it much longer.”

“Hot exit in three, two, one.”

The engines came to life with a deafening roar. Just like before, the Excalibur shot forward with a maddening burst of speed. Gwen went flying, and Arthur caught her around the waist before she was knocked off her feet, but it sent him staggering sideways into Elyan. They went down in a tangle of limbs. Unlike before, the engines continued to rumble happily on. The Excalibur continued its forward trajectory.

It wasn’t until a couple of martrons later that Arthur realized no shots rocked the ship. Merlin did it. He’d overloaded the engines.

Arthur let out a triumphant “HA!” and his head thumped dully against the metal grating outside the engine room. It didn’t matter that Gwen’s elbow was digging into his liver.

They’d made it.

Chapter Text

The fuel report was worse than Arthur thought. They’d planned to go full throttle for the first malton or two, and had charted course accordingly. Now that they’d had to go full throttle a second time, the stores were massively depleted. The problem was made worse by the fact they had set their shields to a higher level in case the mysterious ship returned, and to compensate for the drag created by their old shields, they were using twice as much fuel to go the same speed as they were before being attacked. They could afford to utilize fuel from the backup generators, but Arthur wasn’t willing to rely on it to make up for the lost time. If they experienced another engine failure, he didn’t want his crew to slowly suffocate as they prayed that Gwen got the engines repaired or someone took pity on their mayday signal.

The course needed to be replotted, and they needed to find a way to cut maltons off their route so they didn’t run out of fuel before reaching Tir-Mor station.

Elyan was bent over the console, a slight pinch between his brows. He flicked through the space charts on his console, alternatively zooming in and zooming out. Arthur was watching silently. Elyan ran calculations fast. If he spotted something useful, he’d likely spot it before Arthur did. At these early stages of the process, Arthur was mostly there because captains were consulted on all decisions regarding their ships.

It was with a heavy sigh that Elyan looked up, “I’m sorry, Arthur, but I don’t think we have the fuel to make it to Tir-Mor Station. Any route I follow puts us as running out a few marbecs away, even if we burn through all of our backup generator fuel to get there.”

Arthur stepped back and rested his hands on his hips, lips pursed, “There has to be something we’re missing. We just have to think outside the box.”

“You’re welcome to run the calculations yourself.” Elyan said, sounding a bit annoyed.

“Sorry.” Arthur said and clapped Elyan on the shoulder, “It’s not that I doubt your ability. You are the best navigator in Albion Space. I’m just not ready to give up the ghost just yet.”

Elyan nodded and gestured at the stacks of digital charts, “We’re all tired. A second pair of eyes couldn’t hurt. I’ve left my previous calculations up and running.”

“Thanks.”

Arthur bent low over the console like Elyan had and began sorting through the charts. He started with the calculations Elyan had left running. There was no reason to tread the same ground twice. Sure enough, each of the routes Elyan had calculated ended with a big red trails right at the end. The closest they got was a marbec outside Tir-Mor station. Too far away to come close to winning, and it wasn’t likely any participants would stop to help them out.

Time to put his money where his mouth was.

He pulled up the plotting software and went into the settings. He changed the parameters of their journey. Fuel and ship class remained the same, as did current and ultimate destinations, but he readjusted the percentage of chance of survival from 99% to 60%. That still gave them a better chance of surviving than 50% odds. He’d never suggest something with odds at 50% or less to his crew. They were his responsibility, and he would never gamble with their lives with shit odds. The plotting software spat out a new course that had them running out of fuel fifteen martrons from the finish. Arthur punched in other variables, such as lightening their load by jettisoning one of the escape pods. The calculation spat out a course that put them running out of fuel at 10 martrons from the finish. Frowning, Arthur brought the escape pod back in, and adjusted the survival rate down to 55%. It was treading dangerously close to odds he couldn’t consider, but he couldn’t give up just yet.

The calculation spat out a course that was green for the entire arc. They ran out of fuel a full marbec beyond the finish line at Tir-Mor station.

“Take a look at that.” Arthur said as he straightened up.

Elyan stepped up and went through his process, zooming in and out of the layers of charts and keying through variables of his own. At a certain section of the route Arthur had drawn up, Elyan’s frown deepened, and he zoomed in further. After a ribec, he blew out a sigh and looked up at Arthur.

“Want to know why the chance of survival is as low as it is?” he asked.

“How bad is it?”

“It’s taking us through the Ridge of Essetir.”

“You’re joking!” Merlin said from the communication desk, “The Ridge of Essetir is a ship graveyard. No one’s been able to cross it.”

“Someone must have.” Arthur said, “Or else the chance of survival is nil.”

“It’s only giving us that read out because I wrote a nav program that extrapolates Gwaine’s flight records.” Elyan said, “Merlin is right. No one else has managed to navigate it. Asteroid belts are just too unpredictable.”

“If we do this,” Arthur said, trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to convince Merlin and Elyan, “not only will we be the first ship to cross the Ridge of Essetir, we’d also take the fastest ever time in the Regatta. Look. It cuts a full three maltons off our time. Think of the corporate sponsorship we’d get with those accolades.”

Elyan bit his lip, “Gwaine would have to be on the whole time. The survival rates with you as pilot are comparable to his, but we can’t afford any distractions while we’re traveling through. That includes change of shift for pilots, and we’d need our captain to keep the calm in an emergency...”

Arthur glanced away from Elyan and turned to Merlin. They’d met when Arthur was fresh out of the United Camelot Military and cut up about the discharge. After a brief confrontation in a bar on the planet Ealdor, in which Arthur had been spoiling for a fight to prove that he was just as competent as he’d always been, they’d decided they hated each other. Two maltons later, they’d run into each other again in search of a ship. They’d both been hired on by Captain Kanen of the Harvest, hated him, bonded over their hatred of a man who deliberately mistreated his crew, and eventually realized they didn’t want to go anywhere without each other. Arthur had just enough credits saved from his work as a hauler with Kanen and his military pension, that he’d bought the Excalibur. Merlin was his first crew member.

If anyone was going to steer him right, it was going to be Merlin.

“What do you think?”

“I think this is mad, but maybe not the maddest thing you’ve ever done.” Merlin said honestly, “I think everyone should be in on this decision.”

Arthur nodded, “Get on comms and tell everyone to meet on the bridge.”

Merlin swiveled around in his seat, flicked through the comms channels, and alerted everyone to come meet in the bridge.

Gwen was the first to arrive. Arthur had met her before he’d met Merlin. She had also been part of United Camelot military, but she’d been a base engineer; more a mechanic than anything else. Her talents had been wasted. Arthur had been in search of an engineer since he and Merlin had to make an abrupt dock when the engines had crapped out, and Gwen had been looking to transition out of her work with the military. When the system flagged her name, Arthur didn’t hesitate to reach out to her and offer her the job. She’d more than proved her genius in the cycles since. Arthur wouldn’t still be a hauler without her skills with an engine.

When Arthur had needed a navigator, she’d managed, through sheer determination, to track down her wayward brother who’d been a whizz with navigation at school. Elyan had wanted to reconnect with Gwen in the wake of their father’s death. He’d taken the job without a second thought, and had saved the Excalibur more credits in fuel than Arthur cared to admit.

She was followed by Lancelot who had wanted to be a hauler for his entire life, but couldn’t get on with any of the good crews. His last position before coming to the Excalibur had made conditions under Kanen look like a fairytale. He’d prevented Merlin from getting run over by a speed trolley on a space station Arthur could no longer remember the name of, and the rest was history.

Leon and Morgana arrived next. Morgana had gone through a wild child phase and had joined the U4F even though she wasn’t a hauler, just to piss off their father. Then the money her mother left her ran out and she agreed to go to business school. There she’d met Leon and the two of them had become business partners of a sort. She’d gotten her degree, told Uther to go fuck himself, and ran off into the stars as Arthur’s contract manager. Leon had tagged along as her assistant. When he turned out to have talent with long range weapons, Arthur had added ‘gunner’ to Leon’s job description.

Gwaine came after that, clutching one of Percival’s baked goods in his left hand. Gwaine had answered a mayday call when the Excalibur had been pinned down by another hauler trying to go pirate and take Excalibur’s hauling job for themselves. The captain of the ship Gwaine had been piloting at the time kicked him out, and Merlin, soft heart that he was, got the message to Gwaine that he was welcome to crash on the Excalibur until he got his feet back under him. Only it turned out that Gwaine getting his feet back under him meant swaggering around the Excalibur flirting with everyone until Arthur relented and hired him on as a pilot. He still swaggered around and flirted with everyone, but at least now he was contributing to the ship’s success.

Percival was the last to arrive. Arthur was still not entirely clear how Percival ended up on the Excalibur. As far as he could tell, Lancelot had taken to adopting strays like Merlin had, and then Percival turned out to be a bit of a magician with the revolting rations that haulers were subjected to, and he’d been added as their chef and gunner.

Arthur regarded his crew. After so many cycles together, they were a family. There was no other way to describe it. They watched out for each other, got on each other’s nerves, and had enough inside references and jokes that sometimes it sounded like they were speaking another language altogether. If any one of them left the Excalibur, the whole thing would come to a grinding halt. Arthur couldn’t imagine hauling with anyone else. They cared more for him than his own father ever had, and none of them knew how grateful he was to them. Merlin was right. If they were going to take this gamble, it had to be with the approval of everyone on the crew. If even one person objected, Arthur would have Merlin or Lancelot contact Regatta organizers and announce they were dropping out.

Elyan had checked. By the time they reached a station to refuel, went through the refueling, and left, the Regatta would have long since been won.

“Elyan and I ran the calculations.” Arthur said solemnly, “There is no way for us to refuel in time to stand a chance at placing in the Regatta.”

A few shoulders slumped. Morgana was frowning like she was attempting not to cry. She’d been just as invested as Arthur in this whole thing.

“We checked the routes with the standard 99% survival. With the amount of fuel we have, there is no way to make it to Tir-Mor Station.”

“Saying you checked the routes with 99% survival implies that you checked routes with lower rates.” Gwen said.

“There was one route. It left us with a marbec’s worth of fuel after finishing at Tir-Mor, and took three maltons off our time.”

“What was the survival rate?” Gwaine asked.

Arthur drew in a deep breath and announced, “55%”

Morgana narrowed her eyes at him, “Are you really so desperate to prove to our father that you can make it as a hauler that you’re willing to risk your crew like this?”

“I’ll admit it. Part of my desperation to win this race is to prove to myself and my father that it wasn’t a mistake to turn away from Pendragon Galactic.” Arthur said, addressing his entire crew, not just Morgana, “But it’s more than that. Bills are coming due at the end of the cycle. I have to renew our hauling license, pay union dues to U4F since Morgana and Gwen were clever enough to get us union protection, and pay the outstanding docking fees that we’ve been deferring. Without upgrading any of our equipment, there still isn’t enough in the ship’s account to cover everything. Even if we all pitched in our savings, I’m not sure it would cover it. We haven’t had a high paying job in over three nargons. The prize purse was going to be the difference between us continuing to haul for another cycle or two, and me having to pack it in and return to Pendragon Galactic.”

“Why didn’t you tell us things were that bad?” Gwen asked.

“I’m the captain. My duty is to worry about my crew, not the other way around.”

“We’re more than crew.” Merlin said solemnly, “You know that.”

“I can’t imagine hauling with any crew but the eight of you. The Excalibur has become our home. That being said, I will not take this route if there are any objections. It’s going to take us through the Ridge of Essetir. That’s no small feat. You all have a marbec to decide if you’re willing to take the risk.”

The pronouncement was met with a strained silence. The crew shot each other surreptitious looks, trying to decide if anyone was likely to crack.

Gwaine rocked back on his heels, grinned cocksure and charming, and said, “I for one, look forward to the challenge.”

*

“Ready?” Arthur asked.

Gwaine shot him the same cocksure smile as before and said, “I’m ready whenever you give the say so.”

Arthur nodded and turned to Elyan, “How are sensors?”

“Gwen’s redirected all power from cooling as well as other non-critical power drains. Sensors are as good as we’re going to get them.”

“Did we calculate sensor accuracy in plotting the course?”

“I set it as a required part of calculations as soon as Merlin and I noted the reduction in sensitivity.”

“Good, then I haven’t doomed us all.”

“We chose to risk it.” Gwaine said, “Not a single one of us wanted to drop out without a fight. And if we go out navigating an asteroid belt, what a way to go.”

Arthur just wished that was more comforting than it was.

Merlin removed the earpiece and swiveled around to look at Arthur, “I sent out the update to the Regatta organizers, but this close to the Ridge there’s no guarantee it got out. We’re sailing in the dark.”

“Last chance to protest.” Arthur joked.

“Not a chance.” Merlin said with one of his bright, teasing grins.

A bit of tension left Arthur’s shoulders. Out of everyone, Merlin was the least likely to let Arthur get away with something stupid to make him feel better. If he thought this plan would doom them all, he would say so and pull another plan out of thin air. It had happened. Whenever a contract went sideways, Merlin was always the constant presence at Arthur’s side, reminding him to believe in himself when his confidence flagged, or humorously deflating Arthur’s ego when his confidence bordered on arrogance. If Merlin believed in this plan and believed in Arthur, then Arthur could believe too.

He nodded once and turned back to Elyan and Gwaine, “Prepare to enter the Ridge.”

Elyan tapped into the navigation console and the view screen shifted to display readings in full scale. As he did, the lights in the bridge dimmed and surged back to life. “Sensors engaged.”

“Merlin,” Arthur ordered, “contact Gwen and tell her to further dim lights across the ship, leaving them on only in corridors and kitchen.”

Merlin turned back around and Arthur could hear him relaying the orders to Gwen.

Gwaine ran his ritual checks and then said, “Ready to run the Ridge.”

“Understood. Engage thrusters in five ribecs, four, three, two, one.”

Gwaine drove the stick forward and the thrusters rumbled to life at the back of the ship. The Excalibur lurched ahead but steadied out as it approached. Gwaine eased up on the thrusters as they entered the orbit of the Ridge of Essetir.

“Sensors indicate asteroid.” Elyan announced calmly, “Proceed in three, two, one.”

An asteroid floated past the view screen and Gwaine sent the Excalibur darting through the gap. He had an amazing ability to maneuver the Excalibur like a much smaller ship. Arthur’s flight style was to play to the strength of the ship itself. Gwaine’s style was to ignore all rules of physics and somehow bend them to cooperate. He slowed to allow another asteroid to float by, then surged forward. Without forewarning from Elyan, Gwaine dropped the Excalibur straight down in space, narrowly avoiding impact from an asteroid at the top.

No one dared to say a word. Gwaine and Elyan needed to operate without distraction. They were practically sharing a brain to get the Excalibur through in one piece.

Merlin had tucked one knee up against his chest at the comms desk. He had a habit of twisting himself into positions that Arthur found incredibly uncomfortable and insisting he was happy that way. Arthur just accepted it as part of Merlin’s strange charm now. It was because Merlin was as relaxed as anyone could be under the circumstance, that Arthur noticed. Merlin abruptly sat up straight and his leg lowered flat to the floor.

Arthur turned his head sharply. As he did, Merlin’s eyes flared that crackling techno gold.

“Report.” Arthur ordered sharply.

Merlin glanced over his shoulder, mouth turned down unhappily at the corners, “The ship is back.”

Chapter Text

“What do you mean?” Arthur asked, “How can you tell the ship is back? It’s not on sensors.” he turned to Elyan, “It’s not on sensors is it?”

Elyan did something with the settings and answered, “It’s faint, but the magnetic signature is the same as it was the first time.”

“We have to find a way to get rid of them.” Gwaine said through gritted teeth as he navigated carefully around another asteroid, “Can’t focus on navigating an asteroid belt and dodging fire from an enemy vessel.”

“How the hell did you sense that?” Arthur asked.

Merlin shrugged, “I know their engine now. I don’t have to go looking for it. I can just… feel it.” on the word feel, Merlin lifted his hand and gestured vaguely to his temple.

“Get everyone battle station ready. Tell Lancelot to take over for you on comms. How are you doing with your gifts?”

“As long as we get this over and done with quickly, I should be alright. Even if I did come down with a headache, it would be worth it.”

With that, Merlin turned back to the comms console and made a ship wide announcement to enter battle stations once more.

They’d made a malton without encountering the enemy ship again. Arthur didn’t like how short the gap was between those encounters. Merlin’s gifts were enough to leave all but the highest quality vessel scrambling for repairs. If the ship following them got their engine back up and running in less than a malton, they either had a large engineering crew, or they were working with an engine of Pendragon Quality or better. Neither of those boded well for the fate of Excalibur. There would be no reason for a ship of that quality to attack them, let alone attack them without any attempts at communication. Why was it so invested in preventing the Excalibur from reaching the finish line at Tir-Mor station?

Lancelot entered the bridge and took over for Merlin. Confirmation came in from the rest of the crew not on the bridge that they had reached their battle positions. Merlin came to stand alongside Arthur.

“What are you thinking?” Merlin asked softly, “I recognize your ‘this is fishy’ face.”

Arthur turned to Merlin and ducked in close, “Why is this ship so determined to keep us from the finish? It’s not a contract out on us or our crew, the Regatta database would have pulled up any contracts for Albion Space, and we haven’t traveled outside of Albion Space for cycles. Even if there was a warrant out in another system, they wouldn’t bother sending a ship like that out to get us.”

“And they haven't announced their purpose for tracking or attacking us.” Merlin finished, “Whatever this is, it’s not official business. They don’t want it caught on ship’s logs.”

“Exactly.”

The already dimmed lights dimmed further. Gwaine cursed loudly. Arthur whipped his head around to see Gwaine yanking up hard on the manual helm, trying to correct the steep nose dive the Excalibur had taken. They avoided an asteroid by a hair and leveled out.

Arthur had missed it before, caught up in conversation with Merlin as he was. He could hear it now though. A faint hum that increased in volume and abruptly shut off. At the precise moment the hum cut off, Elyan cursed. Arthur turned and found the view screen blank. It only depicted the asteroids and the distant stars, not any of the readings Elyan was putting on screen for Gwaine to take a look at while piloting. Elyan’s fingers flew over the console, trying to get the readings back.

Gwen’s distressed voice came in over the comms, “What’s going on up there? There was some kind of power surge and I’ve lost the last marbec’s engine readouts.”

“Magnetic impulse!” Merlin realized, “That’s why Gwaine lost control of the steering, and why Elyan’s sensor settings vanished. They’re hitting us with magnetic impulses to avoid creating more debris with the guns.”

“If I lose control while we’re in an asteroid belt….” Gwaine said ominously.

“We’ll fix it.” Arthur said tightly, “You and Elyan focus on flying. Merlin, can you disable the engines again?”

“Not without sensors.”

“Sorry, Arthur, but I can’t give up my seat to Merlin. We can’t be without sensors in here.” Elyan said as he managed to get sensor readings up on the view screen again.

“Understood.” Arthur said “Keep flying.” Arthur felt more than heard the hum that indicated another impulse, “And brace for another surge.”

Lights dimmed, Gwaine struggled to get the manual steering to work, and Elyan whipped through getting sensors back online. For one heart-stopping moment, the engine cut out. Beside him, Merlin inhaled sharply. Losing engine power now would ensure the death of the Excalibur and her crew. The engine kicked back to life and Arthur released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

Lancelot flicked some switches on the comms console and said into the earpiece, “Mayday. Mayday. This is hauler class vessel Excalibur, does anyone read?”

“What are you doing?” Arthur demanded.

“I’m going to try to get us out of here.”

“Mate, no one is going to send a rescue mission into the Ridge of Essetir. Especially not when the ship is hauler class.”

“We have to try.” Lancelot insisted, “Mayday, mayday. This is HC Excalibur. We are pinned down by an attacking vessel in the Ridge of Essetir. Does anyone copy?”

For ribecs that felt like cycles, there was only static on the other end of the line. The only source of comfort was that the magnetic impulses had stopped. Arthur suspected they had to recharge the magnetic cannons. He’d seen the technology first hand in his time in United Camelot military. They’d been a buggy mess then. It took a malton or more to recharge the cannons between uses. They had upgraded in the last few cycles, but they still needed recharging.

“Copy HC Excalibur. This is Hauler Class vessel Avalon. We hear your distress signal.”

Arthur stiffened. Nimueh. He hadn't expected to deal with her during the Regatta. Morgana had mentioned her being a participant, but participants kept to themselves. This was the first time he was hearing her voice since he was ten cycles old.

“I hear you Avalon.” Lancelot said, “Be warned that enemy vessel is using magnetic impulses. It has already cost us functionality of steering.”

“Understood. Avalon is willing to offer aid under certain conditions.”

“Which are?”

“Arthur,” Nimueh asked, “are you there? I wish to speak with you directly.”

Arthur crossed the bridge to the comms console and picked up the earpiece Lancelot offered him, “I’m here, Nimueh.”

“It’s good to hear you so grown up.” Nimueh said in the strangely lilting, teasing voice, “I have information I wish to impart to you once the race is over. Agree to meet me after the Regatta, and I will provide aid while we try to get rid of the attackers.”

“Done.” Arthur said immediately.

Nimueh must have stepped away from the mic. Her voice came faded and from far away as she said, “Enter the Ridge.”

“Merlin,” Arthur said, “reach out. See if you can sense when she enters.”

Merlin nodded and dropped down to sit cross legged on the floor. He squeezed his eyes shut, pressed his palm flat to the floor of the bridge and went still.

“Preparing to cut power to steering.” Gwaine announced.

Arthur opened his mouth to demand to know why Gwaine was going to cut power to steering. The humming returned. Arthur ground his teeth and braced himself. Gwaine cut power half a ribec before a new wave of electromagnetic pulses struck the Excalibur. Elyan was still battling with the view screen and sensors, but Gwaine was able to restore power to steering manually.

Merlin opened his eyes, “A new ship has entered the Ridge. There’s one woman on the bridge.”

“Must be Nimueh.” Arthur said and turned to Lancelot, “Are comms still active after the last pulse?”

“Negative. I’ll have to manually turn them back on.”

“Go.”

Lancelot leapt from his seat and vanished into the corridors beyond the bridge. Merlin hopped up from the floor and slotted himself into Lancelot’s place, prepared to contact the Avalon again as soon as comms were up and running again.

Arthur braced his hands on his hips and waited. Maybe the most challenging part of being captain was not the decision making, but the waiting for his decisions to be followed. He hated standing around waiting for things to get done. He wanted to get it done himself. He knew that right now, he’d only get in the way, but it didn’t make it any easier.

Elyan let out a triumphant shout and announced, “Navigation is back up and running!”

Sensor readings sprung to life. The pattern of the asteroids not visible through view screen alone overlaid on top of the visible asteroids.

Gwaine eyed them, and man handled the manual steering to keep from running into a cluster of them. They’d narrowly avoided getting stuck and crushed.

Their good luck was short lived. Another volley of pulses came their way. The steering and navigation cut out just as Gwaine was trying to pull up and out of the line of collision with an asteroid. Horror gripped Arthur’s heart. There was no way that steering was going to come online in time to avoid that impact. Excalibur was doomed.

Forward moment was arrested with a jerk that sent Arthur staggering forward. Faintly, he could see a flickering gold light out of the view screen. With a loud crackle, the comms came back on. Lancelot must have gotten them up and running.

“Avalon to Excalibur.” Nimueh’s voice said, slightly static-y over the patched up comms, “Come in Excalibur.”

“We read.” Merlin answered.

“Excalibur, we currently have you caught in our tractor beam, but it was not rated fort his size of cargo. We can tow you, but we can’t bring you any closer. Any help you can give to draw the enemy ship off would be greatly appreciated.”

“Standby, Avalon.” Merlin said and turned to Arthur, “Got a plan?”

“Even if we wanted to use the guns, we run the risk of creating more debris if we hit an asteroid, and with the power fluctuations, we don’t have any power to give to guns anyway.”

“Steering is still out.” Gwaine announced, slumped back in his seat, “Gwen might have to make repairs to get it up again. Otherwise I’d suggest we play chicken.”

“Attempt to run the other ship into an asteroid without running into it ourselves?”

“Exactly.”

Merlin’s eyes widened, and he whipped back around, “Standby, Avalon. We have a plan.”

“Understood.”

“We don’t have a plan!” Arthur protested, “What the hell are you thinking?”

“We’re going to play chicken.” Merlin said with a slightly manic gleam in his eye, “I can use the long range comms to project an image of the Excalibur. They’ll charge right for it, and at the last ribec, I drop the illusion and send them careening into the nearest asteroid.”

“I hate to say it, but that’s a good plan. Contact the Avalon, ask them to hide us.”

It took some negotiating back and forth, but finally the Avalon navigated its way around an asteroid and hid the Excalibur behind it. Merlin pressed his palm flat against the console. HIs eyes flashed gold, and everything went still and silent.

With their sensors still down, there was no way for them to see if Merlin’s illusory Excalibur was holding up.

“Your plan is working.” Nimueh said over comms, “Enemy vessel has been spotted on our sensors, and is rapidly approaching.”

Merlin twitched, like he might lose concentration, and Arthur walked over and shut off the sound on the comms. They didn’t need to hear the exact moment the enemy ship hit the asteroid. They’d see the fallout from the view screen.

Maybe five martrons later, there was a flair of light. Merlin came back to himself with a little start of surprise and blinked up at Arthur.

In the view screen, chunks of metal floated passed.

Arthur turned the volume up on the comms. He was greeted by Nimueh’s voice, telling him that their plan had succeeded.

All that was left was to get through the Ridge of Essetir.

*

It took another 12 marbecs to cut through the ridge. With the enemy ship firmly in their exhaust, they could take a moment to regroup. The Avalon needed repairs as well. They’d taken a few clips from smaller debris that littered the Ridge. It took negotiating from Morgana and an appeal to Nimueh’s U4F ties before it was finally agreed upon that the Avalon would keep the Excalibur suspended while Gwen made her repairs. In return, the Excalibur returned the same favor to the Avalon, towing it with their tractor beam. They had to sit closer together for that one. Like the Avalon’s, the Excalibur’s beam was rated for cargo only, and it was as piecemeal as the rest of the ship.

Once both ships were repaired, they flew separately once more. Although Lancelot took over comms and kept them in constant communication. The agreement as struck by Morgana was that the Avalon and the Excalibur would watch each other’s backs until they were out of the Ridge of Essetir. The last push to Tir-Mor station would be done with no holds barred. Fastest ship would win the prize purse. However, Nimueh was determined enough to share her information with Arthur, that she was willing to work with him for the deadliest portion of the Regatta.

Merlin had retired to his cabin almost as soon as he dropped the illusion of the Excalibur. Arthur’s own head throbbed with sympathy. Merlin had worked through the aftershocks of his psychic abilities before. When he finally gave in and admitted to being in pain, Arthur knew it was bad. He would bring Merlin soup or something to make up for it once this was all over. He’d more than earned it.

“Clearing the Ridge in ten ribecs.” Elyan announced.

The crew of the Excalibur let out a collective sigh of relief. All of them were happy to put it behind them. The last twelve marbecs had been the most tense of Arthur’s life. Gwaine’s piloting skills improved their odds immeasurably, but Arthur couldn’t help thinking that luck had a lot to do with it. The Avalon being close by enough to enter, the Avalon being willing to slow themselves down in order to help. Whatever information Nimueh had to share, Arthur was lucky that it was so juicy that it was worth it to her to risk her ship.

“Clearing the Ridge in three, two, one.”

The Excalibur broke free of the Ridge of Essetir and sailed cleanly to a stop a couple of ribecs away. The Avalon drifted up beside them.

“As agreed,” Nimueh said over comms, “one last push to the end, starting at the same time.”

“As agreed.” Arthur acknowledged and clapped Gwaine on the shoulder, “Need a break?”

Gwaine dragged a hand through his hair, and after a bit of hesitation, unbuckled and stood up.

“Falling asleep where I stand.” he admitted, “Don’t want to blow it now.”

“Get some rest.” Arthur said.

Gwaine nodded, but buckled himself into a jump seat at the back. Figures. He’d want to see them cross the finish line. If Merlin wasn’t trying to deal with a debilitating migraine from overuse, he’d probably be doing the same thing.

Arthur took the pilot’s seat and switched over the console to his credentials. He buckled in and nodded at Lancelot.

“Excalibur is ready for last push.” Lancelot announced.

“Avalon is ready for next push.” Nimueh agreed.

Lancelot counted down. When he reached the last ribec, the Excalibur and the Avalon rocketed forward. Arthur decided since he’d already thrown caution to the wind a few times in the last few maltons, he could do so again. He opened the thrusters to full throttle, and reduced power usage anywhere else on the ship that he could. He ignored the updates Elyan was calling to him. They wouldn’t do him any good, only distract him. Up ahead he could see the collection of news droids blinking and whirring as they waited for the first participants to reach Tir-Mor Station. Teeth gritted and body leaned forward over the console, Arthur urged the Excalibur to go just a little bit faster. The Excalibur began to rumble with the effort, but Arthur kept pushing, finding ways to increase power to the thrusters whenever he could.

All he could think was that he’d brought his crew this far, and he wasn’t going to let them down.

With one last roar of effort, the Excalibur shot passed the finish line to the flashes of light from the news droids. Arthur reduced the speed so the Excalibur wouldn’t crash into Tir-Mor station, and slumped back in the seat.

Elyan huffed out a laugh and sagged as well. Lancelot’s response to finishing was to open a channel to the announcer, and then toss his earpiece aside and scrub a hand through his hair.

Gwen, Morgana, Leon, Percival, and surprisingly, Merlin, entered the bridge. Merlin looked haggard, with dark circles under his eyes, but he wasn’t going to miss the announcement. Arthur should have known that.

The announcer appeared on the view screen. This time her low cut jumpsuit was a neon tangerine color. She flashed them a winning smile and said, “Congratulations, Excalibur. Pending examination of your ship’s log and bridge recordings, you will have taken first and broken the record for fastest time to complete the Regatta. See you in the stars!

Cheers erupted on the bridge. Elyan jumped onto Percival’s back, whooping with joy. Lancelot was swinging Gwen around while she cackled madly. Morgana was smirking. Leon was trying to fight off Gwaine who was attempting to plant a kiss on his cheek.

Arthur’s face was unexpectedly grabbed by Merlin who planted a rough kiss on Arthur’s lips. He pulled away with a grin bright enough to hide how rough he looked form his migraine. Arthur grinned back.

They’d done it. They’d won the Regatta.

Chapter Text

Arthur took the call in his cabin. It was the only place he was guaranteed privacy, and the only place where a video call could be made. No one but the crew saw inside the bridge of the Excalibur, and the crew left it that way.

Nimueh looked exactly how Arthur remembered her from his vague memories. She had been at his tenth cycle party, and that was the last time he’d seen her. Shortly after that, she’d had her falling out with Uther. Her hair was long and a deep brown. Her eyes were wide and so blue that Arthur suspected they might be fake. Her lips were full and pulled back into a smirk that was too pleased for comfort. She looked like she hadn’t aged a day.

“What did you need to tell me, Nimueh?”

“Is that any way to speak to your aunt, Arthur Pendragon?” she asked playfully.

“Thank you, for helping us.” Arthur said stiffly, “You took a great risk to make sure my crew made it out alive.”

“I did.” she agreed, “Are you prepared to hear what I have to tell you.”

Arthur waved his hand for her to continue.

“As you may have guessed, the attacks on the Excalibur were personal and related to the Regatta.”

Outwardly, Arthur didn’t react. Internally, his heart raced. He didn’t like that he’d been right.

“I know who hired that ship and why.”

“Who was it?”

“Uther Pendragon.” Nimueh said with a grin, “Your father.”

“My father?” Arthur asked incredulously, “Why?”

“I’m sure you remember your old doctor, Edwin, he got a look at your books before you had him escorted off the Excalibur. He took that information directly to your father, along with some curious information about your Merlin. Uther realized that if he could make you lose the race, then you would be forced to finally join Pendragon Galactic.”

“He spent millions of credits so that I would work at his company?”

“Your father is nothing if not vindictive.”

“Thank you, Nimueh, for telling me.”

Nimueh laughed darkly and said, “This will bring its own reward. See you in the stars, Arthur.”

The call ended.

While the crew celebrated their win with loud music and Percy’s baking, Arthur sat in his cabin, contemplating how to take out his father.