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Bishop appeared to lean forward, then, and even though his face was only a simulation, Kira could still feel the force of his personality emanating from the screen: an overwhelming ferocity and intelligence bound to a single-minded purpose. “Apologies for the quality of your treatment, Ms. Navárez. Cause was just and—as attack has proven—concern was warranted, but still sorry you had to suffer. Regardless, counting on you now. We all are.”

He returned to his former position. “And Ms. Navárez, if you see General Takeshi, tell him … tell him I remember the sound of summer. Bishop out.”

A strange wistfulness came over Kira. For all their intelligence, ship minds were no more immune to regret and nostalgia than the rest of non-augmented humanity. Nor should they be.

She stared at the weave of fibers on her palm. “Ando, describe the first appearance of the alien ship.”

“An unidentified vessel was detected via satellite sixty-three minutes ago, thrusting around Zeus on an intercept course.” A holo popped up from the cockpit display, showing the gas giant, its moons, and a dotted line tracing the path of the graspers’ ship from Zeus to Adra. “The vessel was accelerating at twenty-five g’s, but—”

“Shit.” That was a monstrously hard burn.

Ando continued, “—its rocket exhaust was insufficient to produce observed thrust. The vessel then executed a skew-flip and decelerated for seven minutes to match orbits with the UMCS Extenuating Circumstances.”

A cold sense of apprehension gripped Kira. The only way the graspers could pull off maneuvers like that would be by reducing the inertial drag of their ship. Doing so was theoretically possible, but it wasn’t something humans were capable of. The engineering challenges were still too great (the power requirements, for one, were prohibitive).

Her apprehension deepened. It really was the nightmare scenario. They’d finally made contact with another sentient species, but the species was hostile and able to fly circles around any human ship, even the unmanned ones.

Ando was still talking: “Unidentified vessel failed to respond to hails and initiated hostilities at—”

“Stop,” said Kira. She knew the rest. She thought for a moment. The graspers must have jumped into the system on the far side of Zeus. It was the only way they could have avoided being immediately picked up by the Extenuating Circumstances. That or the graspers had launched from inside the gas giant, which seemed unlikely. Either way, they’d been cautious, using Zeus for cover and—as she looked at the holo Ando was playing—waiting for the Extenuating Circumstances to orbit around the backside of Adra before they’d started their burn.

It couldn’t be coincidence that the graspers had showed up a few weeks after she’d found the xeno on Adra. Space was too big for that sort of serendipity. Either the graspers had been watching the moon or a signal had gone out from the ruins when she fell into them.

Kira rubbed her face, feeling suddenly tired. Okay. She had to assume the graspers had reinforcements that could show up at any moment. There was no time to lose.

“Ando, are we still being jammed?”

“Negative.”

“Then—” She stopped. If she sent an FTL signal to 61 Cygni, could it lead the graspers back to the rest of human-settled space? Maybe, but they’d find it anyway if they were looking—assuming they didn’t already have every human planet under observation—and the League needed to be warned about the aliens as soon as possible. “Then send a distress call to Vyyborg Station, including all pertinent information concerning the attack on the Extenuating Circumstances.

“Unable to comply.”

“What? Why? Explain.”

“The FTL antenna is damaged and unable to maintain a stable field. My service bots can’t repair it.”

Kira scowled. “Reroute distress call through the commsat in orbit. Satellite Twenty-Eight G. Access code—” And she rattled off her company authorization.

“Unable to comply. Satellite Twenty-Eight G is non-responsive. Debris in the area indicate it was destroyed.”

“Dammit!” Kira slumped back in the chair. She couldn’t even get a message to the Fidanza. It had only left a day ago, but without FTL comms, the ship might as well be on the other side of the galaxy as far as she was concerned. She could still transmit slower than light (and she would), but it would take eleven years to reach 61 Cygni, which wouldn’t do her or the League any good.

She took a steadying breath. Stay calm. You can get through this. “Ando, send an encrypted report flagged eyes-only to the ranking UMC officer at Sixty-One Cygni. Use best means available. Include all relevant information pertaining to myself, Adrasteia, and the attack on the Extenuating Circumstances.”

An almost imperceptible pause, and then the pseudo-intelligence said, “Message sent.”

“Good. Now, Ando, I want to make a broadcast on all available emergency channels.”

A small click. “Ready.”

Kira leaned forward, putting her mouth closer to the display microphone. “This is Kira Navárez on the UMCS Valkyrie. Does anyone read me? Over.…” She waited a few seconds and then repeated the message. And again. The UMC might not have treated her very well, but she couldn’t leave without checking for survivors. The sight of the escape pods jettisoning from the Extenuating Circumstances still burned in her mind. If anyone was left alive, she had to know.

She was just about to have Ando automate the message when the speaker crackled and a man’s voice answered, sounding eerily close. “This is Corporal Iska. What is your current location, Navárez? Over.”

Surprise, relief, and a sense of mounting worry took hold of Kira. She hadn’t actually expected to hear from anyone. Now what? “I’m still in orbit. Over. Uh, where are you? Over.”

“Planetside, on Adra.”

Then a new voice sounded, a youngish woman: “Private Reisner reporting. Over.”

Another three followed, all men: “Specialist Orso, reporting.” “Ensign Yarrek.” “Petty Officer Samson.”

Last of all, a hard, tight-clenched voice that made Kira stiffen: “Major Tschetter.”

Six survivors in total, with the major being the highest ranking. After a few questions, it became clear that all six had landed on Adra, their escape pods scattered across the equatorial continent, where the survey HQ was located. The pods had attempted to land as close as possible to the base, but with their small thrusters, close had ended up being tens of kilometers away for the nearest pod and, in the case of Tschetter’s, over seven hundred klicks.

“Right, what’s the game plan, ma’am?” said Iska.

Tschetter was silent for a moment. Then: “Navárez, have you signaled the League?”

“Yup,” said Kira. “But it’s not going to reach them for over a decade.” And she explained about the FTL antenna and the commsat.

“Fug-nuggets,” Orso swore.

“Cut the chatter,” said Iska.

They could hear Tschetter take a breath, shift position in her escape pod. “Shit.” It was the first time Kira had heard her curse. “That changes things.”

“Yeah,” said Kira. “I checked the amount of food here on the Valkyrie. There’s not a whole lot.” She recited the numbers Ando had given her and then said, “How long until the UMC sends another ship to investigate?”

More sounds of movement from Tschetter. She seemed to be having difficulty finding a comfortable position. “Not soon enough. At least a month, maybe more.”

Kira dug her thumb into her palm. The situation kept getting worse.