“How sure are you they’re military?” Boro asked Mikarik, who was still absorbed in the screen he was studying with Pueson, “They could be an Anthar Kai convoy beefed up to withstand pirate attacks.”

“Maggie, can you pull up those readings?” Mikarik asked, taking a few steps closer to the wall-to-wall display at the head of the bridge. What was this first name familiarity the Thorian now had with some of the bridge crew, Boro wondered. He now lamented that Meslina did not manage to cave Mikarik’s skull in, though he wasn’t sure if even that could put a Thorian in their place.

The curved display, which in the middle of battle was capable of projecting a spherical representation of the space surrounding the Forseti, now displayed an array of numbers. It was gibberish to the untrained eye – piecemeal energy readouts that the long-range sensors could pick up. In capable hands though, it could provide much information about the starships being observed.

“I am a pilot, Commander Stevin.” Mikarik said and Boro noted the use of the present tense, “I’ve spent my life identifying vessels, particularly Thorian ones.”

“More mixed results with Mraboran ones,” Boro suggested, reminding Mikarik of the humanitarian ship he helped shoot down during the Nabak Insurrection. The Thorian ignored him, taking another step towards the numbers.

“No, even accounting for pirate hunter escorts, this can’t be a commercial convoy. These are definitely navy starships.”

“So what is this concentration of navy ships doing way out here?” Boro asked.

“That,” the Thorian paused, his eyes scanning the numbers on the display, “Is something that I can’t actually help you with. It’s an odd place to hold war games and … there’s something else about these numbers that’s not quite right, but I can’t put my finger on it.”

“Mikarik, we need more than just a hunch to go on,” Captain Pueson said, the sternness lost in the general softness of his voice.

“Oh don’t get me wrong, we should still steer clear of this … mess,” Mikarik said. “The systems we’re going through are at a decent distance from usual military patrols and preferred Anthar Kai shipping lanes. We should be safe enough, and can get mostly back on course when we’ve cleared the swarm.”

“The swarm,” Meslina repeated from her station, shaking her head, and Boro thought he caught a bit of an eye roll. The Thorian though seemed undeterred, only creeping ever closer to the display, craning his neck more and more to see the full list.

“Yes, something’s definitely odd,” he trailed off towards the end, the last word barely audible, and then the display went blank and he turned around with an “oh.” His tone indicated mild surprise, though his eyes were frustratingly difficult to see behind those darkened lenses.

“I think we got everything we need for now, Mikarik,” Captain Pueson said, “We’ll see you again in ten hours, or if there’s anything unusual about …” Pueson cleared his throat, “The swarm.” This elicited a small smile from Meslina, which is about the most one could expect from her.

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“Very well,” Mikarik said after a pause. “Just make sure you keep a close eye on it. These Thorians,” he smirked, “They’re an exceedingly clever lot.”

There was no reaction to Mikarik’s quip except stony silence and perhaps a look of patronizing amusement from the Captain – something Boro was pleasantly surprised Pueson was actually capable of. The Captain’s actual retort was an order given to the ship’s weapons officer, “Indario, please help escort Mikarik from the bridge.”

The Thorian lowered his eyebrows, his mouth crooked with an uncertain grimace. “I think I know the way out, Indario,” he said, but the Parsk Nahur had already moved towards him. Mikarik breathed in deeply, though he tried to hide it. “Alright, if you think I’ll get lost on the way to the door, we can do it your way.”

As soon as the door closed behind Mikarik and Indario, Boro walked with heavy steps down to Surch’s seat.

“What do we know about the area he’s leading us through?”

“Seriously, Boro?” Surch asked, with a sigh pulling out the tablet inserted into his pilot’s chair. “It’s mostly uninhabitable rocks, one of which is a failed Iastret terraforming effort that had been quarantined.” Surch scrolled through the rest of the information on his display and gave it a gentle slap with his palm. “Most interesting thing here is a tiny Anthar Kai outpost hardly even worth a mention.”

Boro murmured a long “hmmm.”

“Is there anything specifically you’re concerned about, Commander Stevin?” Captain Pueson asked.

“It’s just that …” Boro paused, putting his hands on his hips and facing the rest of the bridge crew that stood slightly above him. “Is anyone else reminded of the story of Yanus Susin?”

Captain Pueson frowned while Surch let out a slight groan. No one though had voiced their agreement.

“Have you all heard of the story?” Boro asked. He’d personally been told it since childhood – a tale of false betrayal and sacrifice for the good of one’s people in the face of an invading foe, but wondered if others had the same childhood fable in their repertoire.

The others nodded, with Meslina adding a curt “yes” and Surch a relaxed “sure have”. That was too bad, since Boro found his own rendition to be quite rousing. Then Maggie Okoth, the ship’s Techever, who was so in tune with the ship’s computer that when she was plugged in it was almost as if her own presence had been subsumed into the ship, stepped back into their real world and said, “I haven’t.”

“Really?” Surch muttered behind Boro, who ignored him in the face of this new potential audience.

“I want to hear it,” Maggie assured him, the interlink tubes that connected her hand to the machine slipping out of the holes in her console and retreating to their resting spot inside her fingers.