The ship had been weakening for a long time. That much was obvious. The Nakai had seen it happening, had known it was only a matter of time before the ship would be theirs.
Till the newcomers.
The newcomers that the ship accepted, that it let board it and live on it, the newcomers who were repairing it.
They didn't know what to do.
Till one of the newcomers fell into their hands.
Rumplestiltskin looked over the memories Rush had of that time, the ones he remembered and the ones Rumplestiltskin had to dig deep to find – then find how they'd been hidden.
Like the conquering lord of a new castle, he meant to inspect all his new residence's weaknesses and make sure no traps had been laid for him – by Rush or by anyone else.
When that was done, he did what he could to look over what the aliens themselves were doing on their ships.
Scrying was an erratic art. Some things that should be hidden were easily seen. Others, that were open secrets to everyone for miles around, would be buried too deep for any magic to bring to light.
The general principles, however, were simple. Things could be protected by general magic, by specific barriers (both magical and non), and by the attitudes of those protecting the secrets.
So, in his own land, Belle's survival was hidden by the queen's spells beyond any scrying Rumplestiltskin had been able to employ to bring it to light.
She had also been hidden in a dungeon, out of sight. The dungeon itself had had certain spells laid on it to keep outsiders from learning too much.
And the people who might have told Rumplestiltskin the truth all had reasons to keep quiet.
Some worked for the queen and knew they would die if they spoke. Some, like Lord Maurice, were tricked into believing Rumplestiltskin was the one who must not know Belle lived if she was to have any chance at survival.
Some, like the Dwarf Grumpy, had known and had no reason to think Rumplestiltskin would care to know the secret.
The Nakai didn't seem to believe in magic (there were hints in Rush's memories, bits of awe and wariness Rush had not quite understood, that made Rumplestiltskin wonder). They weren't the sort to nervously look over their shoulders for the monster their rational mind knew couldn't be sneaking up behind them even while the hair stood up on the back of their necks and they felt the stone cold certainty that something was there. They didn't spend time trying to protect things from the invisible world.
He wasn't even sure they believed in secrets. The sense he had of them was of a people . . . united was the wrong word. Nakai didn't rebel, didn't oppose their own leaders, didn't disobey. Within any Nakai group, there was a unity of purpose. Not a hive mind, though there was a boring lack of differentiation among them, but a hive will.
Really, it was almost unfair how easy it was to ferret out what he needed to know.
Fortunately, Rumplestiltskin had never had a problem with using an unfair advantage.
But, all the same, he sent them a message in their own tongue.
Surrender.
He did it while telling the controls to circumvent the damaged engine, not that he was stupid enough to jettison it. Belle had always teased him for his magpie tendencies, but he never threw away anything that might be useful later. He didn't know if they saw their sabotage undone or if it had any impact on them – but it wouldn't hurt.
Neither would letting them know their enemy had learned more about them than they'd expected.
The one message wasn't enough to send them running (he hadn't expected it would be), so he sent another.
I don't want to kill you. Last warning. Give up and go.
That didn't drive them off either, so he picked one of the two ships at random and destroyed it.
It wasn't even hard, a series of small curses. Wiring began to short out. Things began to explode. Smoke filled the corridors while the life support shut off and refused to clear the air.
He gave them enough time to get to their lifepods before the engine went critical.
Good.
A basic rule of any siege strategy: Make the besieged lose time and energy trying to save their own people. Even if they know what you're doing, it's so terrible for morale to send your own people away to die when they show up at your gates, begging for safety.
But it can be just as bad to let them in when you don't have the resources to help them and survive.
He watched to see if the other ship would break off its attack to pick up the first one's survivors.
They did.
So, he gave them a final chance.
Belle was standing right beside him, after all. She'd expect it.
The remaining ship got a third message.
You're next.
They left.
0
Eli was the only one not celebrating as the enemy ship turned tail and ran.
He'd heard the shouts as the first ship began to show signs of trouble. Obviously, they'd gotten in some kind of lucky strike – damaged the reactor, the shielding, something essential to the enemy ship's function.
Except, Eli was pretty sure they hadn't. He didn't understand much about ships and alien technology yet, but he understood physics and energy, understood them intuitively – and his gut told him they hadn't done anything that could account for this.
When the remaining ship broke off its attack to rescue the survivors, Young had Destiny back off as well, waiting to see what would happen next.
Everyone was watching the screens, watching the ship.
Except Eli. Eli felt a cold shadow at his back. He felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He turned and found himself looking at Rush.
Rush was also watching the screen. His hands rested by the controls he said he still didn't understand, touching none of them. Belle Gold stood beside him, gripping his arm, watching him with concern.
Not the screens.
Not the battle their lives depended on.
Rush.
Rush's expression was intent and calculating, a man focused on what he was doing – though he was doing nothing.
Nothing Eli could see.
Then, he saw Rush silently mouth two words.
You're next.
Abruptly, the surviving ship turned tail and ran.