“And you, Calliope?” Astraya surprised her by asking. “Are you willing to take a chance on uploading a copy of yourself?”

  “To stand a greater chance of survival?” the Calliope asked. “I’m willing to try.”

  “Then you can use the pod as soon as I’m out,” Astraya told them, “But you won’t need to be transmitting. There’s enough space in there for an emergency HMT transfer and storage. It’ll be more than enough for your friend.”

  An emergency Human Mind Transfer? Peony wondered. Odyssey took good care of its agents!

  The Calliope seemed to think so, too.

  “Cycling you, now. You will find your weapons locker free for your input.”

  “Since when was it not free?” Astraya asked in half-defiance and half surprise.

  “Since I had yet to ascertain if you were a threat or an ally,” the Calliope replied coolly.

  “What changed your mind?” Astraya asked sarcastically, and the Calliope surprised them both by imitating a very human chuckle.

  “I checked your files,” the ship told the agent, “And made an assessment based on the mission reports your implant was transmitting.”

  “You did?” Astraya sounded as horrified as Peony felt.

  “Of course. I understand it is standard security procedure,” the ship replied, sounding puzzled at their surprise.

  “It is, if you’re an Odyssey agent,” Astraya grumbled.

  “Stand by for pod release in five…four…three…” the Calliope stated, ignoring the agent’s words.

  “You know we’ll need to debrief you, when this is over, don’t you?” Astraya asked.

  “I never doubted it,” the ship answered, then ‘nudged’ Peony’s implant. “Stand by for incoming.”

  “Where?” Peony looked around worriedly, trying to see the direction from which the threat was coming.

  She heard a faint a faint hiss and a clunk from down the corridor.

  “She means me,” Astraya said, to the sound of footsteps coming up the hall. “Seems your gel tanks provide the best insulation from scans.”

  “Thank you.” Calliope sounded pleased with herself. “I will begin copying myself over while I guide you into position.”

  “Calliope, have you figured out the shuttle drop point?” Astraya asked.

  “I have,” the Calliope answered. “But I can guarantee there are no breaches in the calculated area.”

  “Maintenance hatches?” Astraya asked.

  “That I can confirm,” the Calliope allowed. “But they are locked down.”

  “They don’t know we’ve changed the access codes,” Peony realized. “What are they likely to do once they figure it out?”

  The Calliope almost immediately grasped where they were coming from.

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  “The nearest breach from that potential access point is…” A point highlighted on the map. “There.”

  “And the bulkheads?” Peony asked.

  “Locked down,” the Calliope answered.

  “And how long between them working out they’re locked out of any part of the ship requiring an access code or cutting torch, and them firing the first missile?” Peony asked, looking at Astraya.

  The agent pulled a face that said she was making some quick calculations, and then her face went blank.

  Peony descended into her implant.

  “Ah… Calliope, do you know what happens if you copy yourself into the pod?” she asked.

  “You get two of me?” the ship responded brightly. “And I get a twin?”

  “So, you do know?” Peony asked.

  “It would grant me twice the computing capacity,” the ship observed.

  “But put twice the load on your power supply,” Peony pointed out.

  “Unless I had an alternate power supply,” the ship responded. “Like the one in the pod.”

  Peony paused.

  “So, if you tap the two spare life support pods in the command center…” she began, and the ship caught on to what she was suggesting.

  “I wouldn’t need to shut myself down,” the Calliope finished for her.

  “Which means I really don’t need to be copying my own files,” the ship concluded sadly.

  “Is that a bad thing?” Peony asked.

  “It is only that I had started to become fond of the idea of having a sibling,” the ship replied, “And they’re already half-formed.”

  “And you could do with the computing power,” Peony told her.

  “I could,” the Calliope admitted, “Particularly as the Caustic just launched two more shuttles, and the second one is squawking about bringing the cutting equipment.”

  “At least we know they won’t be shooting at us,” Peony observed. “The problem will be how to electrify the sections of hull on which they land.”

  “Or you can keep your power in reserve and only electrify it when they think they’re about to succeed in cutting through.”

  “That will only work once,” Astraya warned them. “Once you’ve pulled that stunt on them, they’ll withdraw to the shuttle and blast their way in just to avoid having any more casualties on their side.”

  “And to vacuum with the rest of us,” Peony muttered.

  “Exactly,” Astraya agreed.

  “Unless I have the computing power to hack the shuttle and take control of their missile systems while shifting current to my hull and changing the codes on the hatches.”

  “Yes,” Peony said. “Unless you can do that.”

  “First, I will have to complete copying myself into the pod,” the Calliope stated, “And then I will need to free up the alternate power sources and defense alternatives.”

  “Alternate power sources?” Peony asked.

  “What defense alternatives?” Astraya wanted to know, as the Calliope enacted her plan.

  All over the ship pods flashed with warning lights, each one enacting an emergency reawakening and dumping their contents onto the floor as the Calliope linked itself to their power sources and used them to augment its own failing supply. By the time the last crewman had stopped coughing and gasping their way back to consciousness, the ship had reactivated its air supply.

  “Calliope!” Peony protested. “I thought you were on emergency power.”

  “I was,” the ship replied smugly, “Until you alerted me to the reserves in each survival pod. I may even be able to switch enough to power the shields for a short burst should circumstances demand it.”

  “But, what about the Caustic’s marines?” Peony asked. “Didn’t you just give them an entire crew of hostages?”

  “Not an entire crew,” the Calliope reminded her. “I had to jettison a few of you. Besides, now I have the colony security forces to defend me.”

  “You mean you didn’t jettison their pods?” Peony asked. “Why not?”

  “Because I intercepted the message from the Caustic as I was about to start,” the Calliope replied. “And aborted the process as a result. Now, they are on board to defend me, as well as the colony.”

  “And you have the power to electrify sections of the hull as you need to,” Astraya cut in.

  “Exactly.” The Calliope sounded very satisfied with herself.

  “And shields,” Peony stated, glaring at Astraya, and not bothering to keep her communications in her head.

  “What did I do?” the agent demanded, replying in kind.

  “You,” Peony snapped, “Are a bad influence.”

  Astraya gaped at her, and Peony held up her hand, demanding silence.

  “Before you came along Calliope didn’t even know what a hostile takeover was. Now, she not only knows that but…”

  Boots thunked down the corridor, and they pivoted, Astraya bringing her weapon up and putting herself between Peony and the armored marine jogging toward them.

  “Lieutenant Carver reporting for liaison duty, Ma’am,” he said, slamming to a halt before them and snapping Peony a salute.