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Foster Addison let out an involuntary laugh.

“What?” he asked her.

“Nothing,” she said. “Just… maybe you should let me handle the motivational speeches.”

“Another point,” Tann allowed, “on which we most certainly can agree.”

She stared out over the wreckage for a brief moment. Tann furiously worked various conversational gambits through his filters before deciding simply that he had nothing. Logic didn’t suit her, entirely. He wasn’t sure how to proceed with sympathy.

Instead, he waited until she shook off the shadows of her thoughts and turned. Her facial features, he was relieved to note, had settled into harder lines. Determination was back. Much preferred. He could channel that.

“Can we try the comms now?” She raised her arm, showing off her wrist. He didn’t get it until she added, “Maybe Jien can be located by her omni.”

A fine idea. The initial staff, as evidenced by Addison’s own omni-tool on her forearm, would have geared up first thing.

He swept a spindly hand at the comm panel. “Delighted.”

With ease, he programmed the computer to initiate the new connection matrix—a process that only took several seconds. Most went green, but a few immediately reverted back to red or, worse, remained dark. Wires to replace, antennas to reconnect. He ignored it for now. Long fingers swiping across the display, he brought up the map and pushed, pinched, and pulled it around.

“Hmm…” A common enough sound heard around here, he reflected wryly.

Addison peered at the digital mass. “Where is everyone?”

“Exactly my concern. Biometric location is offline, it seems. Database corruption maybe. Another thing to fix—but no matter,” he said abruptly. “Let’s see if anyone can hear us.” He tapped and held the transmit option. “This is Jarun Tann. If you can hear me, please find the nearest comms panel and reply. If the nearest one doesn’t work, well, I hope you’re familiar with the process of elimination.”

He could hear his own voice coming from the adjacent Operations room, as well as echoing through several nearby corridors. A good sign. He felt pleased.

Silence stretched. Tann waited. Beside him, Addison shifted on her feet.

Then, just as Tann considered whether he should try again, the comm flicked on.

“Sloane Kelly here.” The familiar voice boomed through the room’s speakers. “Nice work, you two.”

“And you as well,” Tann replied. “I cannot help but note that we have not suffocated in the vacuum of space.”

Addison shot him a disbelieving eyebrow.

Well, whatever. They knew what he meant.

“Calix and his team deserve all the credit,” the Security Director replied. Oddly humble, he thought, wasn’t it? “They’ve already begun work on reversing the damage, but it’s going to take some time.”

And his team, eh? That only slightly worried him—as much for the extra breathers as the little bit of rebellion he saw in the act. Still, the ability to draw breath pleased him enough, for now. Tann decided not to question it.

Out loud.

Privately, he wondered if they’d even tried fixing the problem with only Calix involved. Sloane seemed like the consummate security officer—which in Tann’s experience meant her default reaction to any problem would be immediate and overwhelming firepower. Figuratively speaking.

Something to keep an eye on. He filed this observation, aware too late that he very likely was meant to say something obligatory at this juncture.

Addison caught it. “Please thank them for their efforts.”

“I will. Has Garson turned up?”

“Sadly, no,” Tann replied. “And bio location isn’t working.”

“Of course it isn’t. Hardly anything is.” Sloane paused. “Damn. Well, I’ve been sending out search parties whenever someone has a spare minute. We’ve started moving bodies to a temporary morgue in one of the labs.”

“Understood. Return to Operations.” Within nanoseconds, he realized how much that had sounded like an order. Too soon, given Sloane’s obvious misgivings about his temporary leadership status. “At your earliest convenience,” he added. “We have much to discuss.”

“It’ll be a while.” Sloane’s voice bristled over the comm. “Life support was only the first of our problems. We’re not out of the woods yet.”

“Addison and I understand that, but—”

“Out.”

The link closed.

Well, he tried. Tann did not sigh. Not out loud, at least.

* * *

Sloane lifted her finger from the screen.

“Calix has things under control here,” Kesh said. She had been standing just behind her while she spoke to Tann. “I’m going to check on the rest of the krogan, make sure their stasis pods weren’t damaged.”

Sloane sighed. She understood the desire. Wanted to do the same for her team, more than anything. “Power is still unstable. Sensors are hosed. Shields, too. Who knows how many fucking rads we’re absorbing just standing here.”

Nakmor Kesh inclined her head in agreement. “All true. And like life support, all things that will require trained teams to repair. That means krogan, in many cases. I need to make sure they’re safe.”

“There may be another way,” she said, still working through the idea. “Hang on a second.”

Kesh waited as Sloane identified herself to the comms panel. The system recognized her, but this failed to result in what she’d hoped for. The system that allowed her to locate crew, no matter where within the Nexus they were, was dark. Still, she could communicate. Open broadcasts only, but it was a start.

“Sloane Kelly to Kandros. Please respond.” When no answer came, she repeated it.

This time, his reply came a few seconds later.

“Kandros here, along with Talini and six other survivors.” Aside from the obvious good news, his unasked for sit-rep told her that she had an audience and should guard her words. He wouldn’t know that the comms weren’t closed. Not yet.

She’d tell him later. “Report.”

“We went looking for ships, but you’re not going to like the result.”

She winced. “Tell me.”

“The explorers are destroyed. Or at least, most of them are destroyed. Something tore through docking like a thresher maw through sand. The Pathfinders’ ships took the brunt.”

“Shit.” Sloane rubbed at her forehead. In the back of her thoughts, a free-floating bit of station floated across the memory of Operations. Kesh made a low, thoughtful sound. “You said ‘most’?”

“Yeah. There’s no trace of the others.” A beat. “Just a damned big hole.”

Just great.

Kandros followed up with, “But it’s not all bleak. We took shelter inside one of the shuttles in hangar two. Situation cramped, but stable.”

Kesh grunted in approval. “Smart thinking. Self-contained, provisioned, life support, even a medical bay. Very smart.”

Sloane nodded agreement, but filed away the data for later use. She hadn’t quite reached the point of ordering everyone to retreat to safe ground.

“Leave Talini in charge there,” she said to Kandros. “I have a task for you.”

“Name it.”

Sloane grinned, bolstered by his attitude. “Make your way to stasis chambers…” She glanced at Kesh, an eyebrow raised.

The krogan rattled off a series of designators, assuredly where the bulk of the krogan population had been placed. Sloane repeated them, just in case he hadn’t caught them all.

“Got it?”

“Copy that,” he replied. “What’s the mission?”

“I want a status report. How many made it, how many… well, you get the idea.”

“Understood. Anything else?”