It had been a very long day.

When Gabe had gotten the idea to go and help the personnel onboard the Surveyor, he’d imagined that he would just be able to requisition a shuttle—or even better, fly his rig—over to the ship. He hadn’t anticipated the fact that the same fuel restrictions that had grounded his pilots had affected the transport shuttles, too. So instead of spending a few minutes soaring through space, he’d had to spend nearly half a day catching a ride on jam-packed supply shuttles, ferrying everything from food to fuel cells to water tanks between the ships of the fleet. It had taken five different shuttle trips before he’d been able to actually reach the Surveyor, leaving him worn and frayed before things had even gotten started.

The day hadn’t exactly gotten any easier from there. A delegation from the Surveyor’s team had met him in the shuttle bay. He’d groaned inwardly as he’d recognized the near fanaticism in their eyes. It had reminded him instantly of the officers in IntCent; people who’d been pouring over the data in front of them for so long tended to develop a hunger for new perspectives that could only be described as terrifying.

He'd spent the next five hours buried up to his eyebrows in long range sensor data and old survey records, in far greater detail than the computers in IntCent had stored. They had jabbered at him the entire time about promising signs and optimistic indicators until he felt practically as crazy as they were.

Through it all, however, he’d sensed that same sort of desperation that he had felt, wondering if there was anything that he’d be able to do to find the Wayfarers’ new home. The people onboard Surveyor were well aware of how much the fleet was depending on them for answers. The truth of it was, though, there just didn’t seem to be many answers out there to find.

Most of the Surveyor’s sensors had been fine tuned to look for planets capable of supporting sentient life. They’d been able to comb through the light from each nearby star, looking for signs. Every time they jumped, they once again began drinking in information about the nearby neighbors, looking for any hope of a rocky planet with the necessary magnetic field, atmosphere, and other signs of habitability. The old records from the ancient survey teams had only augmented their search, not defined it; they were comparing their results to what the ancient exploration corps had recorded, looking for inconsistencies or matches that could help guide them.

Unfortunately, they had found far more dead stars and far too few promising candidates. Most of the exploration data seemed to be not just lost, but also incomplete. Gabe had quickly spotted signs of deliberate tampering, a suspicion that some of the scientists had grimly confirmed.

“We call them the dumb ba—” One of the other technicians had coughed, and Professor Jimenez, the researcher in charge of the Surveyor’s teams, had paused for a moment. “Excuse me, the erasers. They’ve clearly been editing the data, removing references to missions we know were sent out, and falsifying the results from others. We’ve identified several individuals involved, but the ringleader was one Duvaid Queagros. Every time his name pops up, the records go bad, fast.”

“But what possible reason would they have to mess with things like this?” Gabe had shaken his head in bafflement. “It’s not like they were saving money by covering things up. The missions were still going out. They just weren’t generating any useful data.”

“Could be any number of reasons.” Jimenez shrugged. “All the same, all of us would be more than happy to strangle the guy. Believe me.”

Looking over the gathered data himself, Gabe was forced to agree. With such a cloud of deception and uncertainty cast over anything, it was a miracle that the Surveyor had been able to guide them to any systems at all. Perhaps a little more gratitude and a little less pressure had been in order.

So now, after that disappointing slurry of information, he was back onboard yet another shuttle, making his way to the Concord. It had not been a direct flight, nor a pleasant one. His shuttle had been a typical, overcrowded affair, with crates stuffed in as tightly as possible. The first leg of the trip had taken him from the Surveyor to the Harvester, where the empty food crates were exchanged for boxes of food headed for the Emancipation. From there, the crates were exchanged for empty water tanks, and he’d spent another flight wedged between reservoirs as they flew over to the Fountain. Filling the water tanks gave him just enough time to stretch and rest his legs before the next flight, outbound to one of the medical ships in the fleet.

Finally, as the water tanks were offloaded and exchanged for a few containers of medical supplies, Gabe found himself on the final leg to the Concord. The flight crew hadn’t exactly been companionable, and his only seat this time was on top of some crate that sloshed uncomfortably every time the shuttle made a sharp turn. He hadn’t been able to get comfortable the entire time, but at least he was almost home. There was nothing between him and a little rest now—

“If it isn’t Angel Boy!”

Gabe blinked in shock, and let out a soft groan as another figure came around a stack of boxes marked with obscure medical terminology. Nakani grinned at him, her satisfaction with the situation clear. “Have a minute to chat?”

Gabe breathed in, and then out slowly. The last thing he needed was more whining about flight time. “What do you want now? I’m busy.”

“As I can see.” Nakani looked around the otherwise unoccupied cargo area, a smirk on her face. “Come on, what else are you going to do while these box drivers get us back to your flagship?”

The shuttle swerved, and Gabe gritted his teeth as whatever liquid beneath him flowed back and forth. Nakani didn’t seem to notice the movement, just swaying on her feet while the cargo shifted and rattled around her. “Fine. What is it? You aren’t still complaining about being grounded, are you?”

Nakani waved the words away. “No, no, in fact, thanks to you, I was finally able to get a few minutes of useful flying time. There was a bit of a rescue operation the other day when some hospital ship had a breached airlock. Thanks to your instructions, we got called in.” She shrugged. “There wasn’t much to rescue, but I guess there was enough fuel for you Wayfarers to want us to make the effort, right?”

Gabe ignored the mocking tone in her voice. “If that went well, then why bother tracking me down?” Before she answered, his eyes narrowed. “Wait. How did you track me down? It isn’t like I published my travel route.”

“You didn’t make it easy, that’s for sure.” She chuckled and shook her head. “Some of these box drivers owed me a favor, and they let me know when you would be swinging by. I hitched a ride from the Penance to the medical ship we just left, and they let me slip onboard just before liftoff.”

He grunted. “Seems like a lot of effort just to bother me, Nakani.”

“That’s Ms. Nakani to you, Angel Boy.” She took a step closer, still smiling. “Truth be told, I’m here to give you the opportunity to finally pay off the favor you owe me.”

“What?” Gabe laughed despite himself. “And why exactly do you think I owe you anything?”

Nakani folded her arms over her chest, once again swaying as the shuttle made another hard turn. “I saved your life, remember? And I flew into combat on a rig with no weapons, just so you could have bait for the Directorate.”

“You did that to save your own skin as much as ours.” Gabe smirked. “Besides, you wanted to fly, and I gave you the chance. What are you complaining about? It’s not like the Directorate would have been offering you a better deal.”

The mercenary shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. That still doesn’t cancel the fact that I saved you once, so you owe me. Unless you think that towing your half-dead rig back to the Penance was somehow good for my soul?”

Gabe started to snap back a response, and then he paused. Like it or not, it had been Nakani and another of her pilots that had found him. Even with Susan’s directions, there had only been a slim chance that the Penance would have picked him up if she had ignored his emergency signals. “You were still just doing what you’d been ordered to do. It’s not like McCallister would have thanked you for leaving me.”

“With a bunch of aliens in the area, while I was flying in an unarmed rig?” She smiled. “I could have flown back to get myself an escort. You’d have run short of oxygen a hell of a lot sooner than we could have done all of that, and then all we’d have brought back to your beloved Directorate queen would have been a slightly chilled corpse—and no one would have blamed me. Make no mistake, you owe me, Angel Boy, if only because I took you at your word when you said those things wouldn’t ambush us or something. Face facts.”

Gabe wanted to argue, but he couldn’t find the reasoning he needed. She had pulled him out of that rig. Regardless of how he personally felt about her idea of him owing her a favor, the Lord would expect a little kindness in return for that act.

He scowled. “Fine. You get one favor. What do you want?”

She gave him a victorious grin. With a dull thud, she plopped down next to him on the crate, and then looped an arm around the back of his neck. “Glad you saw reason. Now, when we get back to the Concord, you’re going to show me to the nearest bar on board. You’re going to pay for drinks until I decide that you’re done.”

Gabe shrugged her arm away and gave her a smirk that was only slightly vindictive. Surely the Lord would forgive him a little satisfaction here. “The Concord has no bars. Sorry, you’ll have to look elsewhere for your fun.”

Nakani stared at him, a puzzled expression on her face. “No bars? On a warship?”

“On a legacy ship, remember? Before your group captured her and we retook her, the Concord was a rear line ship, one that was meant to serve as a symbol.” Gabe gestured broadly. “The Directorate didn’t see any point in fully stocking a ship that wasn’t serving on the front lines in combat, and in any case, Susan says that most of the Directorate ships don’t have anything as loose as a bar around. Any alcohol gets stored away and doled out on the captain’s orders only.”

The mercenary frowned, and then brightened. “That means there has to be—”

Gabe waved a hand to cut her off. “Nope. The captain’s reserves were in an exterior storage area. Apparently, it took a hit during our exit from the Eris system. The whole thing spilled out into vacuum.”

Disappointment was written on every line of Nakani’s expression. “You’re kidding.” When Gabe shook his head, she groaned and put a hand over her eyes. “Damn. Of all the luck. What about the rest of your little refugee fleet?”

“You’re looking for booze? On a bunch of Wayfarer craft?” Gabe laughed. “We tend to be a bit too uptight for that kind of thing, or so I’ve been told. There were other supplies to pack, and Susan didn’t want to waste space on something that was only going to ‘endanger discipline among our ranks’ later on.”

“Sounds like a Directorate captain, all right. First thing she did on our ships was lock down the tavern and take away the booze.” She paused. “You wouldn’t happen to know where it went, would you?”

He shook his head. “Actually, no. I don’t think she mentioned it to me. Knowing Susan, I doubt she’d just keep it around. Maybe she gave it to the quartermaster, but I wouldn’t have the access to know.”

Nakani looked over at him and arched an eyebrow. “She didn’t tell you? I’d have thought she would enjoy telling her precious Angel Boy all about starving us of our fun. She seems like the type to laugh over the poor fates of a bunch of murderers and pirates like us.”

“Yet she’s probably the one of the bigger reasons you’re alive, right now.” Gabe met her stare with a defiant one of his own. “After all, she could have refused to accept your surrender, or thrown you out as a distraction for the Directorate. Instead, she’s kept you alive, hasn’t she?”

“As if her precious reputation could have survived anything less.” Nakani stood and walked away from him, making a grand, flourishing gesture that took in the entire cargo bay. “Don’t let all the grandeur and honor talk fool you, Angel Boy. Your girlfriend is Directorate, through and through. They don’t get their jobs done by being nice and kind and virtuous. Sure, they may talk a nice game, all about duty and discipline and the rest, but when things get dirty, you can be sure how she’ll act. Every last one of them.”

Gabe snorted. “As opposed to you and your crew? Your bunch didn’t seem all that much more conflicted when you were trying to murder us, compared to when the Directorate was doing it. How do you know so much about it, anyway? Did you serve in the ranks for a while?”

Nakani looked back at him over her shoulder and rolled her eyes. “As if, Angel Boy. The likes of me was made for something more than stiff orders and blind obedience.” She turned away again and put her hands on her hips. “Not that I didn’t get plenty of firsthand experience. All those Directorate folks look down on people who want a freer rein than theirs, but when they need the extra muscle, they never hesitated to come calling. I’d wager I’ve seen almost as much action as that Directorate queen you have, only I did it on my own merits.”

She tilted her head back, and her words became almost wistful. “My life was my own, and I chose where I went. I’ve flown for whatever captains would pay the best, and I gave them a good return on their investment. I went from ship to ship, fighting and learning the whole way, and I was starting to save up enough to think about setting out on my own, with my own company, my own command. Your little Directorate queen put a stop to that.”

“By stopping you and your friends from murdering a bunch of innocent people.” Gabe saw her flinch a little, but he continued. “You can say anything you want about freedom and choosing your own way, but that just means that you can’t blame anyone but yourself for where you are now. You’re no freer now than you would have been under the Directorate.”

The mercenary was silent a moment, her face turned away from him and her head bowed. Then she threw her head back and laughed. “It hurts like hell, but it’s true. It’s my fault I’m here, stuck on a ship with no booze and no freedom. There’s no one else to blame.”

Then she turned and looked back. A coy sort of pride glowed on her face. “But at least I rolled the dice.”

He stayed silent, unsure of what to say, and she laughed again. Then she spun on him, wagging an accusing finger under his nose. “Don’t think that you’re going to get out of your debt this way, Angel Boy. You owe me, and I’ll find some way for you to pay up.”

Gabe folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against the crates behind him. “Sure. Whenever you can think of something, Ms. Nakani. As long as it is not a danger to the fleet or myself.”

“Oh, I won’t ask you to jump out an airlock, Angel Boy. You’re likely to do that on your own, the way you live, but I don’t want to lose my investment yet.” The mercenary stepped back and grinned. “So take good care of yourself, Angel Boy. I’ll see you again once I’ve come to collect.”

He rolled his eyes. “I guess I have that to look forward to now—”

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

The rest of his words cut off sharply as an alarm blared. It wasn’t the warbling alert of a malfunction or a soothing tone that preceded an announcement of some kind. Instead, it was the bone-piercing, shrill cry of a combat alarm. He saw Nakani’s eyes widen, and then both of them were running for the flight cabin, fighting to stay standing as the shuttle began to accelerate. Clearly, whatever was happening, the crew obviously hoped to reach the Concord and relative safety before it reached them.

He just hoped that by the time they reached the ship, it wouldn’t be over—one way or another.

The OMNI chamber came alive around Susan as she entered it. She shuddered slightly as the panels began to whir and glow. For the past few days, she had steered clear of the place, uncertain about what its warning had meant. Now, however, there was no choice. If the fleet was to face combat, she had to use every tool available.

“Admiral Delacourt.”

Schreiber’s avatar was back, his blunt features showing little emotion. He nodded respectfully. “There are reports of possible enemy contact.”

“Show me.”

The avatar seemed to step back into nothing, fading away just as abruptly as he’d appeared. A moment later, the OMNI appeared to vanish, replaced by a fathomless void that surrounded a holographic display of the surrounding system.

She saw the ships of the Wayfarers’ fleet clustered around the planet, already sending tenders and tankers to gather the materials needed for new fuel. There were also a handful of specks further out-system, flitting around the approaching comet. Susan had ordered them there only an hour or two ago, hoping that they could scan the massive ball of ice in order to help Fountain identify how to properly exploit it.

Far and away in-system, however, was something she had not expected. There were bright flashes and red alert icons. Indistinct forms were flickering in and out of existence, much farther than she would have expected the Concord’s sensors to reach. “OMNI, what is that?”

“Unknown, Admiral.”

OMNI did not elaborate, but then again, she did not expect it to. She sighed. “Bridge, this is Admiral Delacourt. What are we looking at?”

Abruptly, the void to her left was full of light and motion. When she turned, she was on the bridge of the flagship, where the officers were all busy at their stations. A handful jumped at her sudden appearance; none of them could apparently see the hologram that hovered to her left.

The officer at the sensor station recovered quickly enough, however. “We’re not sure, Admiral. It’s at least eight hours away, at our best speed, so we aren’t getting an entirely clear picture yet.”

Susan blinked. “Eight hours? I wasn’t aware our sensors could extend that far without scouts.”

“Normally you’d be right, ma’am, but the Compass apparently was able to pick something up. Most of our data is coming from them.”

The Compass. Hartwinn Schreiber’s personal ship.

Susan turned her attention to the hologram that represented the small craft. She’d never been aboard, and neither had most of her officers. Now that she thought on it, she hadn’t seen any crew from the reclusive Keeper’s vessel either. What were the odds that another ship connected to the Schreibers had more technological mysteries aboard? “Can you asses what is happening out there?”

“Combat, Admiral.” The sensor officer’s voice was low, but serious. “Even at this range, we can pick up plasma fire and antimatter detonations. It looks like a fairly serious battle.”

Had the Directorate already sent another task force? Who could they be fighting all the way in-system? And how had they arrived without showing up on a resonance cascade?

They’d have to have been waiting, she realized. As if in ambush, trying to strike anyone coming through. Her thoughts went back to the last sign they’d seen of the strangers. Gabriel’s supposed friends had left the last system ahead of her fleet, disappearing in a resonance cascade that had barely shown up on the Concord’s scanners. If they had arrived ahead of time, the ambushers might have struck them first. Yet the Directorate couldn’t have known that Captain Wong and his force would have failed, and they wouldn’t have been able to locate and ambush the strangers any better than Wong had been able to. It had to be someone else.

Yet the only force left that she knew were the Wild Colonies. Could it really have been them?

She shook her head sharply, trying to focus. “Have we received any transmissions? Any further signs of a resonance cascade?”

Commander Mesic shook his head. “No, sir. Nothing on our scans, nothing from the RSRs. The system seemed empty.”

Previous systems had seemed just as empty while the strangers had been hiding. It had to be the strangers—and if the Wild Colonies were fighting them, they were just as likely to come after someone more obvious, like the Wayfarers, next. “I want RSR patrols deployed on route to that area immediately. They are to search for any signs of survivors and report back what they find.” It wouldn’t reach the site of the battle before everything was over, but at the very least, it might reveal any enemies coming back in their direction. The last thing the fleet needed was to be taken by surprise.

She watched as a particularly bright flare of energy washed across the hologram, wincing. That had to have been a power core going critical. Somebody was losing that fight, and badly. “Aside from rig patrols and necessary signals, all transmissions across the fleet are to be quarantined. No open communications until we make our next cascade jump. Inform Captain Miller that I want his CTR squadron ready to scramble the instant we see any signs of trouble.”

Her officers murmured acknowledgements, and Susan checked the status indicators for the rest of the fleet. A handful of craft appeared to have some maintenance issue or another, but none were showing critical problems. All seemed ready if they needed to gather for an emergency cascade.

Susan stepped to her right, and the void swallowed her again. She shuddered slightly, hoping that her disappearance wouldn’t unnerve the bridge crew too badly. At the very least, Commander Mesic and his officers were used to her vanishing and reappearing, but it was odd when things suddenly mattered for a crew’s morale.

Arland Schreiber’s avatar reappeared, this time to her left. He seemed to walk out of the pitch black, his eyes on the distant flashes. “You know who that has to be. Who it would always be.”

She looked at the avatar, suddenly wondering if she had trusted the system again too soon. “Are there any current indications of Wild Colony activity?”

“Subspace echoes continue to emanate from within the fleet. There have been no more external transmission flows.” Schreiber seemed to hesitate, and an uncharacteristic uncertainty entered his expression. “I have been unable to confirm that our position is compromised. Concealment may still be possible.”

Some good news, then. If the machine was trustworthy, of course. “Report any signs of Wild Colony activity. Until then, do not make any assumptions about what we are seeing out there. For all we know, these are two factions of Captain Miller’s strangers indulging in some feud.”

Arland’s expression hardened again. He stared at her directly now, his eyes boring into her. “Are you afraid to face them, Admiral? You have never seen what they are capable of. What they can do to someone taken unawares.”

“If they are here, OMNI, they will not take me by surprise.” Susan looked away, and saw the first sparks marking the RSRs launch from the Concord. They arced away towards the distant battle, their figures miniature compared to the scale of the system they flew through. “You can rely on that.”

There was nothing left to do except endure an agonizing wait for more information. It was impossible to tell who had won and who had lost, let alone who had even been engaged, and as the RSRs swept out towards the target area, Susan began to lose any hope of finding many indications in any case. From what they could tell, the entire battle had lasted only fifteen minutes from start to finish. By the time the last flickering discharges from the final parting shots had faded, the RSR scouts were still at least thirty minutes from the area.

For the entirety of the flight, the silent avatar of OMNI stood at Susan’s shoulder, watching the specks of light grow closer. If it hadn’t been a machine, she would have called it concerned, even anxious. She dismissed such thoughts as the scouts drew close. It would do her no good to be carried away by flights of fancy over a computer projection.

As the RSRs finally reached the battle site, she felt her heart beat hard. If the enemy was present, the scouts would be the first sight that she had ever known of an enemy she had been prepared to fight for most of her life.

It was somewhat anticlimactic, then, when there was nothing there.

Something had been there, of course. The signs of battle were easy to pick out, thanks to the advanced sensors of the RSR scouts. Small pieces of twisted hull metal, fragmented munitions and ablative armor, even fading traces of the energies the opposing fleets had unleashed still lingered in the space they had once occupied.

Aside from those signs, however, there was nothing. No major wreckage, no wounded craft. Nothing.

Susan waited for a long moment as the RSRs began a careful sweep. Then she spoke, knowing that OMNI would automatically route her messages accordingly. “Admiral Delacourt to Eyes-Five. Are there any contacts at all?”

“Eyes-Five to Admiral, negative. There was a fight out here, sure, but nothing else.” The RSR pilot paused as his sensors pinged off of something. A closer look revealed a simple scrap of metal drifting through the void. “They either vaporized anything that took serious damage, or they towed the cripples away with them. Either way, we’re only seeing the remnants here.”

“Understood.” Susan began to pace quietly. The entire situation seemed to be off. “Are there any signs of the strangers?” As stealthy as the creatures usually were, IntCent had assured her they had provided the RSRs with the kind of sensor modifications that would allow them to detect the aliens despite their ability to hide. Susan was not so confident, but the question was worth it.

“Negative, Admiral. Still no sign of them, not even those sensor echoes that—” Eyes-Five cut off suddenly, and a moment later Susan could see why. There was a shadow of an energy signature flaring at the very edges of their sensor range, flowering in the emptiness of space. “Cancel that, Admiral. We’re seeing something now. A resonance cascade, signature matches what we’ve seen from Captain Miller’s contacts before now. I’d assess it as another one of their jumps.”

Susan nodded slowly. Gabriel’s friends had been involved in the fighting—and had apparently lost. She was uncertain what kind of sensors and stealth technology would allow someone to launch an ambush on them when her own craft could barely see them at all, and frankly, she was less than happy just recognizing that it was possible. “Acknowledged, Eyes-Five. Return to the fleet, immediately. Take every precaution to avoid notice.” Not that the Wayfarers’ countermeasures would help against something that had tracked down and ambushed the strangers, but it was better than nothing.

It was not simple paranoia that had motivated her to give the order. While it was some relief that the strangers had apparently abandoned the system, it was obvious another possible threat was hiding nearby—and there had only been one resonance cascade. Whoever they were, and whatever capabilities they had at their disposal, they were still out there—and she had no idea what they wanted.

Reluctantly, she turned away from where the RSRs were arcing back towards the fleet. She opened a new communication channel, one that she had been avoiding for the past few days. “Achilles, this is Admiral Delacourt. Please have Captain Wong escorted to a conference room. I…wish to speak with him.”

When she closed the channel, she felt Schreiber’s eyes on her. She refused to glance in his direction and strode out of the OMNI chamber without looking back. As inconvenient as it was, she would visit Captain Wong personally. The last thing she needed was for OMNI to decide it needed to act based on what she heard.

Especially if Wong said exactly what she feared he would.

Captain Wong stood as she entered, though his eyes widened slightly as he noted the presence of Corporal Shen just behind her. Commander Hummel stood as well, though she continued to wear her perpetual scowl. The security officers with them in the room were different from the ones that had accompanied her before; these were more serious, and both were armed and armored. Apparently, the commander of the Achilles had no intention of having the Admiral of the fleet come to harm during this particular meeting. It was gratifying to see things taken so seriously, but her first concern was over something else entirely.

She turned to the sergeant in charge of the security detail. “This room is completely shielded?”

The Wayfarer nodded. “Yes, ma’am. The entire thing is in a modified Faraday cage. Nothing gets in or out once that door is closed.” He glanced at Wong and Hummel, his eyes cool. “Whatever happens here is going to stay here.”

“Good.” Susan didn’t know if the measures would keep out OMNI, but it was the best she could do. She waited until Corporal Shen had made the door secure and then walked over to take a seat—another first for one of these meetings—across from the Directorate officers.

This time, Commander Hummel’s eyes widened slightly, and the Directorate officer unbent enough to send a startled look at her superior. Captain Wong simply lowered himself carefully into his seat, his normal, impassive expression restored. “You’ve come in person this time, Admiral.”

Susan met his eyes levelly. “Yes, I have.” She waited to see if he would ask why, but the Directorate captain seemed to have exhausted his allotment of words for the moment. Suppressing a sigh, she leaned forward and placed her hands on the table. “I need something from you, Captain. I believe it would be in the best interest of you and your crew to give it to me.”

“I find that…difficult to believe, Admiral.” Wong’s eyes glittered with a brief burst of anger and hatred, but he seemed to choke the disdain back down before he continued. “After all, unless you intend to restore me to command, there is very little that I could give you—and even less that I owe you as a prisoner of war.”

Susan studied him for a moment, wondering if it would do any good to remind him that technically, there had been no war. Only an attempt at extermination. She decided against it and continued in an even voice. “In this case, you are wrong, Captain. What I need from you is access to restricted information that would have been entrusted to your task force.”

Commander Hummel snorted. “Are you that forgetful, Admiral? We purged any restricted computer files from our network as soon as we surrendered. Anything you could have salvaged, you already would have. Anything you couldn’t is far beyond you now. You’ll find out no Directorate secrets from us.”

Captain Wong’s eyes had stayed locked on Susan throughout the tirade. His eyes seemed to grow a bit more curious. Almost interested. “I’m sure the Admiral is aware of Directorate procedures, Commander.”

“You are correct, Captain.” Susan inclined her head slightly. “What I need is typically exempted from those procedures, unless under very specific protocols. It is also usually hidden in a way that prevents access from any unauthorized personnel. More than that, it is usually…” She paused, reluctant to even say the words. “It is usually stored in hard copy, rather than a digital format.”

For the second time since she had stepped into the room, Captain Wong’s eyes widened slightly. Beside him, Commander Hummel abruptly froze in place, seeming to even stop breathing. He took a moment to respond. “I see. You want us to turn over the Wild Colony Contingency Protocols.”

“Correct, Captain.” Susan did her best to maintain the confidence in her voice, but she thought he had still picked up on her uncertainty. His expression did not change, but something about his eyes seemed to indicate a kind of malicious glee.

“May I ask why you would need access to such information, Admiral? I would have expected your experience in the Directorate to have provided you with everything you needed.”

Susan gave him a look that very nearly showed her irritation. “I never had the need to access the information. Even if I had, my only command was under…nontraditional circumstances.”

“I see.” Wong’s repeated words had no particular inflection, but she sensed that same satisfaction buried in them. Hummel’s glee showed much closer to the surface; Susan had to bite back a severe response as the commander very nearly smiled at her. “Still, I have not heard any reason why you would need such information now, Admiral. We are a long way from the border between the Wild Colonies and the Known Worlds, after all.”

“Perhaps not as far as we could hope, Captain.” Susan tilted her head slightly. “Of course, if we are so far away, what harm is there in sharing that information with us? If we do happen to encounter a Wild Colony task force, destroying it would help the Directorate and the Known Worlds, would it not?”

“True.” Wong’s voice had not softened in the least. “Of course, you could attempt to negotiate with the Wild Colonies by turning over the procedures to them in exchange for your own safety. Providing you with that bargaining power would not benefit the Directorate at all.”

Anger flickered inside Susan, but she stomped down on it and tried to focus. He hadn’t directly rejected her, and she knew his arguments could not come from a realistic place. No Directorate officer would attempt to negotiate with the Wild Colonies. Everyone knew the kind of horrors the Wilders had perpetuated in the Known Worlds. Expecting civilized behavior and honorable negotiations from them was simply asking them to repeat those atrocities. He couldn’t expect her to be both cowardly and stupid, could he?

“As tempting as that would be, Captain Wong, it is not the reason I need the information. As you yourself found out, when we are threatened, this fleet is more than capable of defending itself. Will you give us the information we need to do so?”

Wong met her eyes in silence for a long moment. The disdain and contempt that had always shone in them continued to be present, and a grim sort of foreboding started to fill her. If he refused…

Hummel reached over and laid a careful hand on Wong’s forearm. The Captain looked over at his subordinate and then returned his gaze back to Susan. His expression, still blank, seemed to get harder for a moment. “I cannot provide you those instructions in good conscience, Admiral Delacourt. They are meant to safeguard the Directorate…and by turning against that organization, you have placed yourself outside its efforts to defend humanity. The only circumstances that I would consider using those instructions in defense of this fleet is if you turned yourselves over to the Directorate personnel present—if you became our prisoners—and allowed us to bring you back to the Known Worlds for trial.”

Susan let iron fill her voice as she replied. “That is clearly not an option, Captain Wong.”

“Then I’m afraid that we have nothing more to speak of.” Captain Wong leaned back in his chair. Hummel grinned openly, her expression a mixture of stubborn pride and malicious delight. Susan looked back and forth between the two officers and then nodded slowly.

“So be it. You should know that if we do encounter a Wild Colony task force in this system, we will continue to defend your personnel as best we are able—a responsibility that the Directorate apparently abandoned long before the Admiral Nevlin sent you to murder us.” A flicker of surprise ran through their expressions, before Wong’s face fell back into professional stillness and Hummel’s once again reflected her outrage. Susan stood quietly, and nodded to the security guards, who had watched the entire exchange with a curious lack of reaction. “Please escort these officers back to their quarters. Let me know if they wish to speak again.”

“That would be unlikely, Admiral.” Wong’s voice was tight with suppressed emotion, and Susan smiled.

“Then farewell, Captain Wong. And good luck.” She turned and left, neither acknowledging nor waiting for the Directorate officers to offer her a farewell in return. If they would not help, then she would face this new threat on her own. After all, the prisoners had a choice, and they seemed to have made it.

She only hoped she would have the tools she needed to keep them all from regretting it.