„We can’t get a break, can we?“, Montague Tebbs said, occupying the sitting area in his office.

„No, we can’t.“, the holographic image of Amara Vance replied, „Any clues what that Qyrl surprise was all about?“

„I’ll tell you once you let me know what the purpose of the Felindar visit was.“

Amara gave a quick, short laugh: „I’ll let you know as soon as I found out myself.“

Montague smiled: „Same here. They came, they shot, they vanished. But your aliens at least spoke to you, so you must have some kind of clue.“

„It only makes me scratch my head even more.“, Amara said, „They gave us a list of trade items they want. Everything from tech stuff to art. My experts are looking for a pattern.“

„Well“, the general returned to a more official tone, „Always good chatting with you and keeping this unofficial line open. Hopefully next time we have more to discuss.“

„See you soon, Montague.“, she said, and closed the call.

The general remained seated. He slowly pulled a folded note out of a pocket in his uniform jacket. It was the actual information exchanged between Erulas and Dangorod. Using one-time-pad encryption. The official channel. One sentence at the end was the hint he had followed calling up Amara on their private line: „Our president hopes that very soon we can talk to each other like ordinary humans again.“

The meaningless chat was a distraction. If the aliens were indeed listening in, it would have been suspicious to suspend communications. So they kept them up, both officially and unofficially. Telling each other that they were making no progress, while transmitting steganographic information encoded with the one-time-pads.

Montague was unhappy with the situation and his face showed it. He was doomed to sit on the sidelines and watch. This was Norman Jones’ domain. It was only a matter of time, but while the spies worked their part, his soldiers were out there and could any moment come under attack.

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He had been sitting for a few minutes, lost in thought, trying to figure out what he could do next. Then, just as he wanted to get up, the communications system informed him of an incoming priority call. On the same line he had just closed. Perplexed, he accepted the call and looked, once again, at the projected face of Amara Vance.

She seemed excited: „Montague, it seems we did get a break after all. We just got a message from Binary Bloom, the pirate outpost. Somehow, they got two Qyrl prisoners.“

Montague’s eye widened. His thoughts raced. She was telling him on a channel they knew was eavesdropped on. Which made sense, if she received that intel in the same way, it did not matter, the enemy would already know. But why, why call him immediately to tell it? She needed him to do something. But what?

He replied: „Wow, that’s amazing. Did the pirates get any useful info out of them?“

Amara shook her head: „Not yet, unfortunately. The prisoners are wounded, may not be able to talk. I don’t have the details. It was a short call. The pirates have other problems as well, it seems.“

Now Montague understood. Dangorod was leading in two things within the Junkstorm: Intelligence and medicine. Here was a chance to combine the two.

„We have a hospital ship in orbit. It can depart within the hour. Would that help?“

„Oh yes!“, Amara lightened up. Her non-verbal communication told him that this was exactly what she had had in mind. Of course she knew that a military hospital ship in orbit would not need an hour to launch. Ten minutes tops. If it were docked and the crew on a space station, he would have said so. But one hour was enough time to get a couple interrogation experts to the ship.

Amara continued her part of the game: „I’ll let my people know that your ship is coming. Two days probably? I hope they can keep them alive that long.“

Montague nodded: „Two days, give or take a few hours. I’ll tell them to bubble as fast as they can without burning out the engines.“

„Excellent. I’ve got to hurry. Talk to you soon.“, she said and ended the call.

A few minutes later, General Montague Tebbs was on his way to the intelligence headquarters once more. On the way out, he took one of his aides to the side: „We have a hospital ship in orbit, the Defiant if I remember correctly. Take a fast transport up there immediately. I will call you in fifteen minutes. It is important that when I make the call, I am told that it will take about an hour to get ready and launch. There will be another transport arriving within that time, intelligence agents. I don’t yet know how many. None of that must be spoken during the call, understood?“

„Yes, Sir!“

Montague turned around and rushed to his waiting shuttle. This time, he would be flying over using the emergency corridors, lights flashing and priority commands sent ahead of him for any intersections. Half an hour at most until he arrived. It was a tight schedule. Jones would have no time to call in any agents, whoever went to the pirate outpost would have to be at the HQ already.