From where Sidonia stood in the corridor of Docking Tower Three, she could hear the shift as clearly as if she were standing in the middle of it. The sharp, disciplined bursts of blaster fire gave way to scattered shots, then to isolated echoes that carried across the port before fading into the wind. What had been resistance only minutes ago was unraveling into confusion, then into surrender.
Below, the Diarch’s Hand was collapsing. Inside the freighter, it had already happened.
The confirmation came through the internal comms, declaring a change in management that no one had authorized, but that no one could contest either. Sidonia didn’t interrupt. She listened just long enough to understand what mattered.
The bridge was taken.
There was a brief pause as she absorbed that, and then she moved forward without hesitation, keying into the Crimson Dawn channel as if it had always been part of the plan.
“The bridge is secured,” she said, her voice even and composed. “All teams, transition to containment. Secure the crew and lock down the cargo.”
Across her visor, the battlefield reorganized itself. Charlana’s marker advanced steadily through the ship, no longer encountering resistance but gathering it; crew falling in line, signals clustering as weapons were dropped and movement slowed.
“Maintain discipline,” Sidonia added. “No unnecessary casualties. Anyone who stands down remains alive.”
Her attention shifted inward first.
“To the bridge,” she continued, her voice teaching directly into the ship’s systems. “Maintain control of all command functions. I want continuous oversight on internal movement; anyone not already accounted for is your responsibility now. Lock down access to navigation and communications. Nothing leaves this ship without my approval.”
Sidonia paused for a moment, before continuing.
“Tobi” she said, addressing him directly, “you’re in the right place. I want a full crew manifest pulled and cross-referenced with who you physically have in front of you. Anyone missing gets flagged immediately. If they’re hiding, flush them out. If they resist…”
She paused again, her voice shifting to a slight hiss. “End it cleanly.”
Her focus moved through the ship, tracking Charlana’s progress.
“Charlana,” Sidonia continued, calm and collected, “route all secured personnel to a single holding point near the cargo bay. Keep them visible, controlled, and separated from anything they could use against us. “And keep using what you’re using. Fear is doing half the work for you; don’t waste that advantage.”
While all of this was happening, she saw that the woman who had been somewhat helping them thus far had chosen to leave just then. From where she stood, Sidonia had no idea whether she had taken anything before she took her leave. She breathed out a small sigh, committing to memory of this mysterious woman. When they meet again; for it was when and not if: Sidonia would be certain to remember today’s events and call upon such memory when the time came.
It was only then that she turned her attention back to Colton. She let the silence settle between them after his proposal, the wind sweeping sand across the floor as the last distant sounds of the fight faded into nothing.
“You’re right,” she said at last. “This doesn’t end with the ship.”
Her visor tilted toward the wider port, toward the unseen traffic lanes beyond it. “It ends when no one comes looking.”
“Scramble the port’s traffic control. Rewrite the docking logs. I want false departures layered deep enough that no one can tell what’s real.”
She turned her head slightly toward him.
“And talk me through it while you work. I want to know exactly what anyone entering this system is going to see.”
She paused for a moment, before adding, “And if something starts to slip… you tell me before it becomes a problem.”