“I underestimated you, Kommodor,” Imallye said, her voice as frigid as the breath of space. “I will not do so again. Your tricks will not save you the next time I encounter you. Nor will tricks save CEO Iceni. When you get back to Midway, tell your president that the fate she long ago earned by her actions will soon be visited upon her and anyone who dares to follow her orders.”
The transmission cut off. That was rude, Marphissa thought, then almost laughed at the absurdity of that characterization of the message after the brutal threats contained in it. What the hell. She did laugh, drawing surprised looks and then smiles from Diaz and the rest of the crew on the bridge. “Get us back on a clean vector to the jump point for Iwa, Kapitan. We don’t appear to be welcome in Moorea Star System!”
Even with the long acceleration, chase, and a battle in which everyone had continued to head at very high velocity in the direction of the jump point, it still took two more days of travel, including the time spent braking Manticore’s velocity down to point two light speed, to reach the jump point. The sensors on the heavy cruiser had been able to spot a lot of activity on the outer hull of Vengeance as her crew labored to repair enough main propulsion to allow another fight. But Syndicate warships were designed efficiently, which meant not enough crew to repair battle damage, little repair training for a crew expected to simply swap out broken black boxes with new ones, and not enough spares or other parts aboard to do such extensive repairs even if the necessary men and women had been available. Surprisingly, Vengeance did manage to get one of the damaged main propulsion units working again despite all of those hindrances, but by the time that happened Manticore was on final approach to the jump point and Vengeance had already rocketed helplessly past that point despite all attempts to reduce velocity.
In the privacy of her stateroom, Marphissa prepared a final transmission aimed at Vengeance, ensuring that there was no trace of gloating or amusement in her expression or her voice. “Honored Granaile Imallye, I regret that our first encounter has involved hostilities. On behalf of President Iceni, I once again extend the hand of friendship to you and urge you to contact her peacefully for negotiations. Whatever past events lie between you, I assure you that President Iceni is no longer the person who did you such a wrong. I also assure you that should you come to Midway Star System with hostile intent, neither you nor any of your warships will survive. Iwa Star System offers a clear and ugly example of what the enigma race intends doing to every human-occupied star system. You can see it for yourself and know that the threat is real. We can face that threat together, to the benefit of all. For the people, Marphissa, out.”
She relaxed as the transmission ended, leaning back to gaze at the hatch to her stateroom. As was common with Syndicate warships, that hatch was both armored and outfitted with alarms, because their own subordinates were feared by Syndicate bosses almost as much as the enemy. But the defenses increasingly felt to Marphissa like anachronisms, souvenirs from another time, no longer needed when the crew was motivated by belief in what they fought for and loyalty to their leaders rather than terror of the consequences of failure or insubordination. Imallye’s grudge against President Iceni, no matter how well justified it might be, was also an anachronism, rooted in the past.
The past could not justify destroying the future Iceni was creating.
“Kommodor?” Diaz called down from the bridge. “Manticore will reach the jump point for Iwa in five minutes.”
“You have permission to jump when ready,” Marphissa said. She activated her stateroom’s display and sat watching it until the stars disappeared and were replaced by the gray nothingness of jump space.
Marphissa had Manticore once more at full combat readiness when the heavy cruiser left jump space. But there was no sign anywhere in Iwa Star System of the enigmas. Iwa was still a lifeless graveyard whose markers were debris floating between worlds and the craters pockmarking the surface of those worlds. If the aliens had returned, they had apparently departed again already.
“Head straight for the jump point for Midway?” Diaz asked.
She paused to consider the question, studying her display. Nothing visible. But… “Do you remember that the humans captured by the enigmas were confined inside an asteroid?”
“Yes.” Diaz gestured to his display. “But we would spot that. There would be waste heat that could not be hidden.”
“Maybe.” Marphissa shook her head, not sure why she was feeling uncertain. “But the enigmas hide themselves. They hide everything. We can’t take time to tour this star system looking closely at every object, though. President Iceni needs to be informed about what has happened here and at Moorea. Take us to the jump point, but route our path through the star system instead of skirting along the edge. That will bring us closer to many of the objects orbiting Iwa, though still a long ways from many others. Make sure our sensors look over every object in this star system as best they are capable for any signs of anything amiss.”
“Yes, Kommodor. I will ensure the specialists are alert.”
Another long transit through space, this one longer than necessary because of Marphissa’s orders to take a more lengthy transit that swung through the inner planets and past the star, but unmarked by any events or tension except for the need to get home. Marphissa checked at random intervals on the specialists on watch and found them always attentive to their displays, but no one reported anything and none of the automated scans reported anything unexpected.
Until they were an hour from their closest point of approach to the world where most of the Syndicate presence had been before the enigmas destroyed everything.
“Kapitan?” One of the specialists spoke with growing worry evident in her voice. “There is something happening on that planet where the Syndicate city was located.”
“Something?” Diaz prodded. “Show me.”
“What our sensors are seeing is very subtle, Kapitan.”
“Show me.”
“Yes, Kapitan.”
Marphissa watched as Diaz studied his display with a frown of puzzlement. “What am I seeing?” he finally asked the specialist. “What do these indications mean? They are barely detectable by our sensors.”
“Show me as well,” Marphissa ordered.
The data that appeared on a magnified image of that world didn’t mean anything to Marphissa, either. But she did see that it clustered near the large craters that were the grave markers for the mostly buried Syndicate city which had been totally destroyed by enigma bombardment.
“We haven’t had a good look until now at that location on that world during this transit because of the planet’s position relative to our track,” the specialist explained. “But we are now only about ten light minutes from the planet, which is approaching our track as it orbits Iwa, and we can get a clear view of the planet as it rotates.”
“What are we seeing now that we can see it?” Marphissa asked.
“I believe,” the specialist said cautiously, “that this data indicates substantial subsurface activity. From this distance, with our sensors, we would only detect large-scale events deep beneath the surface of the planet.”