It had taken several excruciating hours at near constant alert status, but the harvesting operation around the planet was finally over.
She watched as the last of the vessels that had been involved in the harvesting process returned to the protection of the fleet. The projected images moved slowly; many of the ships were loaded down with fuel or water, enough to resolve many of the fleet’s needs of either one over the coming weeks. At least that problem might finally be over.
“OMNI, are there any other signs of enemy activity?”
“No, Admiral.” Arland Schreiber’s voice echoed through the chamber, though the avatar itself did not appear. “I remain vigilant.”
“Of course.” Susan suppressed a frown and turned back to watch the fleet. At least things were starting to improve somewhat, and it was happening far faster than she had expected.
The crews aboard the Wayfarer vessels had worked hard; Susan had to admit that even a Directorate fleet might not have done as well under such tense conditions. Enough fuel had been gathered from the planet below that they could once again start using their rig forces effectively—something that she was sure Gabriel would appreciate. Not that she would resent the chance to have a clearer picture of the nearby space. Between OMNI’s persistent warnings and the memory of that mysterious ambush, she had not gotten a steady night’s sleep during the entire operation.
Of course, the water they had taken in was nearly as important as the fuel had been. Fountain’s filtration equipment had been partially damaged, and many of its stores of water had been contaminated by debris, but the comet’s ice had been a source of nearly pure water for the fleet. It was already being distributed among the civilian vessels, and was clean enough that standard purification setups could easily handle the problem of making it drinkable. While rations were still tight, and the fleet still did not have a good idea of where to go next, at least nobody would be dying of thirst.
It had been enlightening to see so many of the Wayfarers rejoicing over something so small. Even the former mercenaries appeared enthusiastic; many of their rigs had been enlisted to help carve chunks off the comet as it drifted past. Of course, part of her wondered if they were simply trying to continue to prove their worth to their captors. She didn’t mind that attitude if it were true; in fact, she only hoped that it would spread to Captain Wong and his cronies.
Susan tried to banish that thought from her head. Captain Wong’s intransigence was a problem, true, but she could hardly fault him for remaining stubborn. She would likely have not been so open and sharing had Nevlin won the day and she had been taken captive. Not that she believed the traitorous little wretch would have kept her alive for long.
Still shaking her head, she turned to consider her options. Without more information, she knew the fleet would need to move. It was better to leave the system than risk an ambush like the one that had driven off the strangers. Unfortunately, there was only one true candidate for their next system. The Surveyor had already analyzed the fading resonance cascade of the strangers’ fleet; if they were running, they had to be retreating towards a base of some kind. If they had a base, they could direct the Wayfarers to a habitable world of some kind. At least, it was better than continuing to jump around blindly.
With a deep breath, she opened the communications to the rest of the fleet. “This is Admiral Delacourt. All ships assume resonance cascade formation. We are leaving.”
As the fleet began to arrange itself around the Concord, she opened another, more private channel. “Captain Gabriel.”
“Admiral, what do you need?”
She smiled. Given the tone of his voice, she suspected he already knew what she would ask. “The moment we arrive in the next system, I want you and the RSRs to begin patrols. Find whatever signs of the strangers you can, and see if you can establish contact.”
“Absolutely, Admiral.”
Still smiling at the barely restrained excitement in Gabriel’s voice, she closed the channel and turned her attention back to the fleet. It was high time to leave this desolate place, with all the hidden threats within it, behind her. At the very least, it would make it that much easier to avoid whatever was causing OMNI to behave so erratically.
If not, then perhaps Gabriel could find a better way to handle things. Either way, their time waiting for the other shoe to drop was finally over.
Gabe watched the rest of his pilots arrive in the rig bay.
There weren’t nearly as many comforting faces as there should have been. The battles against the Directorate had claimed far too many lives, and Gabe still found himself looking for the arrival of his former flightmates among the new faces. Allen had died trying to hold off the Directorate, but that didn’t mean Gabe could forget about him.
“What’s with the long face? I would’ve thought you’d be happy to head out after your alien buddies. You’ve been pining after them almost as much as you did over the Admiral.”
Shaking his head, Gabe looked back along the rig bay. “You’re just bitter you haven’t had anyone to pine over, Derek.”
Derek mimed clutching at a chest wound. “Oh, that hurt! Such biting words!” He smiled and gave Gabe a push. “So where have you been? It seemed like even IntCent was having a hard time tracking you down.”
“Just taking care of some things for the Admiral. Burdens of command, you know.” Gabe glanced around. There were too many people around, and even if he and Derek had been alone, he wouldn’t have wanted to risk saying anything more. He’d spent the past couple of days arranging for visits to different parts of the fleet, like he had with Surveyor. He hoped it was enough of a background to keep OMNI from being alerted when he went to visit the Compass, but Susan had ordered the fleet out before he could put that to the test.
“Oh really? The Admiral thought you could give the farmers over on the Harvest some tips?” Derek’s voice was as skeptical as the idea deserved.
Gabe forced a grin. “They really just wanted to know if they could use your dating advice for manure. Fertilizer’s useful, after all.”
Derek snorted and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Not my fault a beautiful Directorate officer didn’t fall for me.” He grunted when Gabe punched him lightly in the arm and then rubbed at it. He continued in an even voice. “So, what do you think we are looking at out here?”
He shook his head, unable to repress a grimace. “Not sure. There doesn’t seem to be much of anything here. At least, nothing obvious.”
“Cause when have your alien friends been anything but obvious?” Derek snorted. He glanced around, running a hand through his hair. “The Surveyor hasn’t picked up anything?”
“Not yet. No signs of another resonance cascade, either, so we might be the only ones here. For all we know, the strangers are already gone, and their last cascade has already faded.”
“Or they might just be lying low again.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Gabe shrugged. Something about the situation told him that the strangers would not have been so quick to leave, not with at least one intruder on their doorstep. “Hopefully, if they are here, we can make some kind of contact again. They could be a big help to us.”
“Or another problem.” Derek shook his head. “The folks in IntCent might hope you’re right about them, but they aren’t taking any chances. You’ve seen the tactical packages they’ve been having us run in the simulations.”
Gabe nodded, his lips twisting into a grimace. The simulations had been fabricated by Commander Michaels and her team, using the few sensor readings and reports the fleet had available. He wasn’t sure how he felt about running even simulated missions where he and his pilots were trying to kill rigs belonging to the strangers, especially since those same strangers had helped the Wayfarers beat the Directorate. Still, he had to admit that it was better to be careful than to be regretful.
Derek hesitated while a pair of rig pilots from his squadron walked past. He continued after making sure they were out of earshot. “A lot of our people have been running through those simulations a lot, Gabe. They haven’t had much else to do, since we’ve all been grounded this whole time. If we actually run into some of these strangers, I’m not as sure they’ll automatically hold their fire this time.”
The words gave Gabe pause, his smile at the idea of the pilots being ‘grounded’ on spaceships light-hours from the nearest rock fading away. “You’re saying they aren’t going to follow our standing orders to not engage?”
“I’m saying that they’ve been through a lot over the past few weeks, and I don’t think they’re in a very diplomatic mood. Some of them are even saying these strangers of yours are actually Wild Colony rigs.” Derek shook his head. “I know the Angels suffered a lot of casualties in the last few fights, and your pilots have been through the wringer. Discipline might be a little light if push comes to shove with a bunch of unknown contacts.”
Gabe looked away for a moment, considering the implications. The strangers had never made any attacks on the Wayfarer fleet, but they had postured occasionally. They’d often kept their strange particle-based weapons pointed in the direction of any rigs they’d encountered, but they’d never once fired or even made a definite move to intercept them. In fact, during his last few meetings, they hadn’t even pointed a weapon at him.
Then again, the Lord knew that people could see threats even when they weren’t there. He nodded again, slowly. “What do you want to do about it?”
Derek breathed out quietly. “Paladin Squadron took a lot fewer casualties, like I said. We still have a core group keeping things disciplined, and there’s more of us to fly out. If the order comes down to launch, let my pilots and I go first. Then if things get hot, you can scramble to help.”
Despite the logic of the words, Gabe felt himself rebel against it. The idea of watching someone else try to contact the aliens—even if it meant just sighting them—went against the grain. He’d been there every time the strangers had spoken with the fleet, and they’d recognized him, even exchanging names with him. Could he really give that responsibility to someone else?
Then he lowered his head and sighed. Making contact wasn’t the only thing that mattered; peaceful contact was what they needed. The last thing he wanted was to start a war because one of his pilots was jumpy and pulled a trigger at the wrong time. No matter what he felt, he had a duty to the rest of his people to make the right decision.
Gabe looked up again and saw Derek waiting for him to respond. Then he nodded. “Okay. You’re right. If the RSRs make contact out there and things are looking dicey, Paladin Squadron is the one that goes out.”
As Derek began to grin, Gabe held up a hand. He continued in an even voice. “If the zone is cold though, and there aren’t any signs of the strangers, the Angels go. You’re right, my pilots need to shake the dust and the jitters off, and a quiet patrol sweep would be perfect for that.” Gabe paused, and then let a bitter smile work its way across his expression. “Besides, we won’t use nearly as much fuel that way, and you guys can cover the fleet if something is sneaking up on us. Sound good?”
The other rig pilot appeared to think things over for a moment. Then he nodded. “Yeah, sounds good.” He glanced back over his shoulder. “I’ve got my pilots here getting ready to go if we get the order. Might as well hold them for a scramble if you end up going anyway, right?”
“True.” Gabe let his smile become a little more genuine. He felt it fade as Derek walked back to the nearby pilot ready room. Something bothered him about the decision he’d made, but he shook it off, and pushed back off of the wall behind him. There were better things to be doing than brooding over the unknown. His squadron might have the chance to fly for the first time in weeks very soon. In fact, if it was a recovery, the rescue rigs might even be scrambled, and he wouldn’t have to worry about Nakani bothering him about an extra flight or two.
In spite of that cheerful little thought, Gabe couldn’t stop feeling gloom settle around him as he went to make sure his own rig was ready to go. He just had to trust that the Lord would guide him in the right direction wherever that would be.
Susan stood in the center of the OMNI chamber and watched as yet another system flashed into being.
This one was a very different place, though it seemed just as empty. There were seven planets scattered throughout the system on their various orbits. Four of them were rocks of airless minerals, spiraling through the cosmos in positions that placed them too close or too far from the blue star they were chained to. None of Surveyor’s instruments flagged them as interesting, or even as possible sources for supplies.
Similarly, the three gas giants further out from the star seemed devoid of anything interesting. None of them appeared to have the fuel resources that had tempted the fleet in the last system, and none of their rings or moons held any suggestion of anything more. Even the scattering of asteroids, the shattered remnants of some pair of proto-planets that had been ripped apart between two of the gas giants, appeared dull and empty of promise.
There was no immediate sign of the strangers, either. OMNI diligently searched for them with the sensors available to it, but she saw no markers revealing their presence. They were already gone or were still hiding. Not that she blamed them for their hesitation to make contact; if they had lost a battle in the last system, then they had no guarantee the arriving fleet would be friendly to them.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Even as she took in their immediate surroundings—the closest celestial object was one of the gas giants, orbiting an hour or so away—the sensor display abruptly updated. RSRs were shooting from the Concord’s rig bays, and their enhanced sensors were contributing to OMNI’s capabilities. She watched as they swept out, searching for further signs of enemy or stranger alike.
She waited for a long moment as the buglike little rigs made their way beyond the edges of the fleet. Then she let out a short sigh. With no immediate cascade behind them, it was clear no one had followed them from the last system. If the Wild Colonies had been there, then they were gone now. All she had to worry about were Gabriel’s friends.
Her brief moment of elation faded as she looked around and found Arland Schreiber standing on the hull of the Concord with her, staring hungrily out at the void.
The avatar did not appear to notice her immediately, but as soon as she started to look away, it spoke in a low voice that was still carried directly to her ears. “They have not followed yet, Admiral—but they will. They always do.”
Susan watched him for a moment longer, and then the avatar vanished. She shivered and turned away. There was more to do than brood on a cryptic warning, and she had already been given more than enough of those already.
Gabe brought his rig to a holding position while the rest of his flight launched. He searched the surrounding space while he waited, keeping a careful watch for any signs of gravitic traces that would mark encroaching scouts.
He didn’t actually expect to see anything, however. The strangers were experts when it came to stealth, and the Wayfarer fleet’s arrival in the system had been anything but covert. If they wanted to avoid further contact, they probably could, and the Wayfarers wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. Of course, there was always the chance that things would change, but he didn’t know if they would this time.
The remaining members of the Iron Angels squadron formed up around him. They weren’t nearly as numerous as they had been. Between the casualties fighting the mercenaries, and then the many pilots who had died fighting the Directorate, there were only eight rigs left, organized into two flights of four. At the very least, they were all combat veterans by now, men and women who had seen action and survived. His pilots had come a long way since the rookies flying above Eris.
As the last of his pilots came into formation, Gabe cleared his throat to open a channel. “This is Angel-One to squadron. Begin close in patrol for the fleet. We’ve been grounded a while, so it’ll be good to knock some of the rust off in case something happens.”
“Angel-Five to Lead. Are we expecting anything?”
Gabe paused. “No, but the Lord finds a way to surprise us. We’ll be on station in case one of the RSRs finds something, so stay alert. If they do locate something they can pull back, the SAR pilots may be headed out with us so that they can recover whatever it is and drag it back to the fleet.”
“Great, we get to babysit those dirty mercs.”
Frowning, Gabe located the pilot that had transmitted. “Angel-Six, unless you want to be the one tethered to whatever the RSRs find, you’ll do better keeping an eye out for trouble instead of causing any. The mercs might not be the best friends to have, but they’re the ones we’ve got. If you have a problem with it, I can always find someone else willing to fly.”
There was silence in return. There weren’t many rig pilots left in the Wayfarer fleet, but there were definitely more than there were rigs. The CTRs formed up and began a slow, deliberate patrol pattern that swept them across the fleet’s formation. It was a calm, gentle kind of flight for their first mission back, but it was enough to soothe Gabe’s frayed nerves. He could sense some of his pilots starting to relax as well; it was easy to see in the way they stopped reacting so harshly and started to fall back into the rhythm of their rigs.
The patrol pattern brought them across several parts of the fleet. If there was an enemy watching, the flight path had been designed to make it hard to predict where the CTRs would be at any given moment in time. Keeping the enemy guessing was half the battle sometimes. Given how much confusion the Wayfarers had been feeling lately, it did not bode well for any future fighting in the system.
Gabe took a moment to glance at a ship that rode close to the Concord’s position. It was a small craft, clearly modeled after the same ancient design philosophy as the older ship, but also just as clearly meant for a different purpose. The Keeper had never been exactly clear as to what the Compass was meant to do, beyond ferrying him around the galaxy, but the little craft apparently had a surprising amount of sensors. There were a few other rumors about it—that it was capable of independent resonance cascades, that it was crewed by a monastic order sworn to silence, or even that it was hiding some kind of world-shattering superweapon—but there had been nothing to support any of it. At least, nothing beyond the superstitions of mercenaries, Wayfarers, and Directorate crews.
He’d scheduled a visit to the ship in the coming days. Hopefully, whatever happened during the next few hours didn’t interfere. Susan needed answers, and Gabe was growing increasingly certain that the Keeper was the one who could provide them.
Gabe brooded on that for a while longer until one of his pilots suddenly interrupted him. “Seven here. If we’re worried about an ambush, why are we here in the first place? Shouldn’t we be looking to cascade out again?”
It was a reasonable question, though Gabriel wondered how much he should say. “Because if there’s any chance we can make contact with the strangers, we need to take the risk. They could have resources we could trade for. Besides, cascades cost a lot of fuel. We have to be careful with what we’ve got.”
“Sounds good to me.” The low voice was his new wingmate, Angel-Two. His name was Ben, and he’d come from another squadron that had been picked apart. Gabe hadn’t come to trust him as much as he had Allen; the new pilot had far too much anger pent up inside him to be fully reliable. Nevertheless, the Lord asked His people to work with what they had.
At the end, that was all any of them could ever do.
Susan watched the scouts continue to probe the system. They’d already cleared several distant contacts, revealing them to be the occasional metal-rich asteroid or sensor ghost. Apparently the ‘upgrades’ to the scouts’ sensor equipment had developed a few flaws, something she had already listened to the rig pilots complain about constantly. She tried to ignore the lack of professionalism in their tone, and reminded herself that whatever their lack of comm discipline, these pilots had already seen her through two major campaigns. They would not fail her now, no more than Gabriel would.
“Eyes-Four, I’m seeing signs of mineral exploitation on this rock.”
She blinked. A check of the RSR’s position showed it at an asteroid at least two hours at flank speed from Concord’s current position. “Admiral Delacourt to Eyes-Four. Say again?”
“I said, this rock looks like it’s been hollowed out. Transmitting details.” An image appeared in a glowing window beside the RSR’s position. It showed an asteroid, one that seemed to have a sharp-edged crater gouged into it. Red lines flickered as the rig pilot shaded in some details. “You can see where the excavation teams cut their way in with plasma tools. There might have even been some kind of outpost here, but they pulled it out afterward. Might be why these rocks are so dull. Somebody already pulled everything interesting out of ‘em.”
Susan nodded slowly. So the strangers—or someone else—had been at work in the system at one point. Perhaps it was closer to a major base than she had expected. “Thank you, Eyes-Four. Continue your sweep and report any other similar signs.”
“Eyes-Three, I’m seeing something new.”
Her attention was instantly pivoting to a new screen, this one edged in red. It showed a smooth, irregular asteroid, rotating in the void. It was surrounded by smaller pieces, all of which were rotating and flickering in the light of the distant star.
For a moment, she didn’t entirely understand what she was looking at. Then OMNI opened a new window, and her breath caught as she made the connection. “Eyes-Three, can you confirm it is a part of the strangers’ ship?”
“It looks enough like it to me, Admiral.” The rig pilot drifted closer. Sensors meant to probe the depths of space were brought to bear on a target barely a kilometer away. “Looks like wherever they are, they took damage. Enough to blast this piece off at least. The rest of the debris looks like it came from them as well.”
Susan felt her heartbeat quicken. “Are there any life signs?”
“Negative, Admiral. Just more debris.” Eyes-Four paused, as if uncertain. “Might want to bring the SARs out just in case. We aren’t geared to pick up organics, just ships.”
“Understandable.” Susan turned her attention back to the fleet, where Gabriel’s CTRs were circling. “Captain Gabriel, you are to escort SARs to the debris field and recover what we can.” She restrained herself from asking him to be careful, but she trusted the man had heard her anyway. There had been far too many times that he’d nearly been killed already, and she would need him in the coming days.
“Confirmed, Admiral. SARs are launching now.” Two new dots separated from the Penance. Clearly, he had ordered the mercenaries to be standing by; a wise decision, but she wondered if it had wasted fuel to have them prepared. She wished him luck and turned back to the window that showed the debris. Perhaps their luck was beginning to turn.
“Did somebody call for a pickup?” The voice brought Gabe’s head around, and his targeting systems tagged two more rigs soaring through the fleet’s formation. They weren’t CTRs; their bulky shapes looked like much heavier combat models. The mercenaries had flown modified MSSR models against the Wayfarers; now they had been customized even further to remove weapons and install extra gravitic tethers. The newly christened SAR rigs were mostly harmless, aside from their pilots, of course. He hadn’t been expecting them to respond so quickly. Clearly, Nakani had taken advantage of another opportunity to escape the ship, even if it was just for a short time.
Gabe tried not to groan. At least she wasn’t causing trouble somewhere. “Hope-Three, this is Angel Lead. We’re going to break up into two formations. One of you will need to come with each flight.”
“Angel Lead, I think I’ll stick with your group. Hope-Nine, you escort the fine pilots in the other batch.” Nakani seemed to be in an abnormally good mood now that she was free of the carrier. “How far out are we going, anyway?”
Gabe shook his head and turned to face the direction they would be traveling. “We’re going out to the debris zone. We’ll see what kind of salvage we can pick up and bring back to the Concord for analysis. Report any sightings of the strangers themselves immediately. Angel-Seven, you’re in the lead for the other flight. Don’t engage the strangers and don’t hesitate to fall back if you need to. The last thing we want is to start a fight if we can avoid one.”
Acknowledgements rolled back from the other rigs, and Gabe brought his tetherdrive up. He coasted forward, waiting until the three other pilots in his wing formed up around him. Nakani’s SAR took up position in the pocket the CTRs provided for her, where she would hopefully be adequately covered by the weapons of the rigs around her. Then Gabe threw his rig into a sprint, accelerating until the Concord was only a bright spot against the backdrop of stars. The others stayed close beside him, each of them scanning the area for contacts. Behind him, Derek’s Paladin squadron started launching from Concord, ready to take up his patrol pattern. Hopefully, they wouldn’t be needed, but it always paid to be careful.
It took the better part of an hour to reach the location where Eyes-Three was waiting. The RSR was still lurking on the edge of the debris field, monitoring the area and marking various bits and pieces for the others to investigate. Gabe performed another scan of his own. Not that he expected his sensors to add much to the RSR’s efforts, but it was the principle of the thing. “Eyes-Three, anything from the strangers?”
“Negative, Angel-One. Nothing here but debris.” A burst of data flowed between the two rigs, and several of the larger pieces of debris began to glow in Gabe’s vision. “I’ve tried to leave you a few good spots to start the salvage operation.”
“Thanks, Eyes-Three. Go ahead and head back. We’ve got this.”
“Acknowledged. Heading back.” The RSR turned slightly, and accelerated far beyond anything the CTRs had any hope of competing with. Gabe felt a momentary burst of envy; the RSRs might not have any significant armor or weapons, but they had a tetherdrive that could out-run anything a more combat-oriented rig could manage.
As he turned back to the debris, he looked over the entire mess in search of where to start. It was going to take several runs, but the most critical components would need to go first.
Nakani’s voice broke into his thoughts. “So, Angel Boy, where are we starting? Can’t hang around here all day.”
Gabe snorted. He designated the largest fragment. “Grab that one, Hope-Three. We might as well start with the heaviest bit.”
“Seriously? That thing is going to burn out my tetherdrive!”
“Are you complaining about a little work, Hope-Three?” Gabe smirked. “Do we need to get one of the other SAR pilots out here to do it for you?”
Nakani’s voice had grown a little deadly. “You better hope that nothing goes wrong, Angel Boy. I’ll establish the connection and get it moving. You Wayfarers just keep your eyes open for anything coming after us.”
“Will do, Hope-Three. Angel-Lead out.”
As the SAR began to maneuver into position, Gabe turned his CTR to face outwards. His sensors continued their sweep of the surrounding area, but nothing beyond the debris field was registering at all. It was eerie in its own way. The space around him was too empty, too quiet. He hadn’t expected a base hanging around in the open, but he would have thought the strangers would have either dragged the debris off with them again, or would have stationed some guards. Here, they hadn’t done either. Why?
Other questions began to filter in as Nakani struggled with the unwieldly piece of debris. His thoughts continued to spin through his mind as he idly added his own tetherdrive to the network around the piece she was towing. Why had the debris been left here? Had it been a fragment from the previous battle, or had there been another fight here, before the fleet had entered the system? If there had been a fight, were the strangers’ enemies still here, watching and waiting? Were the strangers keeping their distance because there was some other threat that Gabe and his allies knew nothing about? Or had they just decided that the Wayfarers were just another enemy to be contained and eliminated, as they had the Directorate?
The conspicuous silence among his pilots was not comforting either. It wasn’t just Ben that Gabe was worried about; the others seemed just as on-edge, just as ready to open fire. He could sense the tension increasing among them as they continued to scan their surroundings. It was…unpleasant, in a way that he hadn’t expected. Somehow, the possible, unseen threats loomed larger even than the attacks by the Directorate and the mercenaries had.
What little remained of his good mood vanished a moment later when he got a signal from the Concord. “Angel-One, do you have sensor contact with your other flight?”
Foreboding welled up inside Gabe as he scanned his surroundings. The other flight wouldn’t be close by, at least not if they’d stuck to the planned route. They had been headed for another edge of the debris field that Eyes-Three had marked, looking to recover another fragment the RSRs had located. Still, despite the distance, they should have been visible. He frowned. “Negative, Command. No sign of them.”
“Confirmed, Angel-One.” There was a pause. “Angel-One, we may have a problem. Our last confirmed signal from Angel-Seven confirmed that they were also beginning to tow debris. There were some garbled signals after that. Since then, we’ve had no contact.”
The feeling of doom flared up into sudden urgency. “Command, are you saying they are under attack?”
“That is not confirmed, Angel-One. We have no signs of weapons fire.” The coordinator seemed uncertain about the words she was saying. “Continue to bring in the debris, but stay alert. There may be an active enemy in the area.”
Gabe ground his teeth for a moment. Then he spoke. “Instructions acknowledged, Command. Can you send us their last known location?”
There was another, longer pause. “Negative, Angel-One.”
“You send it to me, or I’m just going to wander off in the direction I feel like they could be in.” Gabe glanced at the other rigs in his flight and then continued. “If those pilots are in trouble, I’m not leaving them there. Send me the data and tell Paladin Squadron to get moving.”
The next voice on the signal was Susan’s. She did not sound pleased. “Paladin is en route now, Angel-One. Scans still show no signs of combat, but the threat profile of the strangers suggests they prefer ambush tactics. They could be using the other flight as bait for you—or as a lure to separate you from the pilots dragging the fragment. We recommend you continue your current course, and then join up with Paladin to recon in force.”
Her logic was sound, but Gabe hated the delay. Even if the Concord wasn’t picking up energy fire, sensors weren’t perfect, and the strangers were incredibly good at ambushes. The strangers had already been hurt in this system. Would they really have considered a salvage operation a threat large enough to initiate combat? Or were they just threatened enough to start lashing out at any intruders, no matter what they were doing?
Either way, there wasn’t much he could do about it from here. Gabe cleared his throat to acknowledge his orders, and static suddenly hissed back at him. It was the unpleasant sound of a jammed comm channel. His connection to the Concord had just been lost. “Flight, can anyone reach the Concord?”
A series of denials swept back to him, in voices that ranged from sudden fear to bristling anger. Gabe steadied himself and tried again. Another burst of static answered him, just the same as before. They were cut off from home and from reinforcements, just like the other CTR flight.
He paused and then opened a shorter link to his fellow CTR pilots. “Angels, keep your eyes open. We may have company soon.”