Surprisingly, a voice from the ceiling answers him. “One minute, sir.”
A pair of legs in the same blue-gray uniform we’re all wearing appear through an open hatch, and a moment later they’re followed by the rest of a girl about my age. She has dark brown skin; long, black, curly hair pulled away from her face in a loose braid that shows off big, gold hoop earrings; and she looks like she could have been in any one of my high school classes. She types a series of commands into a console and nods.
“Signal strength is now sufficient to send a distress call into the Fold,” she informs him. “We can also hail the Syldrathi vessel if you wish.”
Kal shakes his head. “The Unbroken will not negotiate with the likes of us.”
“We could all evac?” Scarlett asks. “Run for it through the asteroid field?”
The Betraskan boy, Finian, chimes in again. “We won’t all fit in the Longbow. And the skiffs these people came in are in no shape to outrun a Syldrathi Wraith.”
Ceiling Girl—Zila—speaks up. She’s the only one without that hint of panic in her gaze, and she’s still studying her station like she’s doing a crossword. “Legionnaire Brannock could ram our Longbow into the Syldrathi ship. Impact would be fatal for her, but if she aimed right, she has an excellent chance to take out their reactor and weapons systems.”
Cat’s voice rings out over the loudspeaker.
“You know I can hear you, right?”
“Yes,” Zila deadpans.
“Well, if we could avoid any orders that end with the words ‘ramming speed,’ that’d be just brill, thanks. Ty, I’m launched. Stealthing through the asteroid field right now. They dunno I’m here yet.”
“Stay off their scopes,” Tyler replies. “Zila, have a mayday ready to broadcast, but don’t send it yet. This station looks like it’s falling to pieces. If we don’t do anything to attract attention, we might convince them nobody’s home.”
“Sir, I’m detecting a launch from the station’s aft port bays,” Zila reports.
“Visual,” Ty snaps.
An image springs to life on the largest screen. It’s a debris field in space, mostly chunks of rock, a few pieces of derelict machinery floating lifelessly among them. Like I’m watching a video game, the focus shifts and zooms as Zila adjusts it, and we get a close-up of a tiny shuttle weaving through the asteroids. First Taneth tenses beside me, whispering in a language I don’t understand.
“De’sai …”
“One of the refugees making a run for it,” Finian reports, hands on his hips. “Trying to save their own hind parts while alerting our new friends ab—”
He gets no further, his voice cutting off as the shuttle soundlessly explodes into a million glittering shards, spinning out into space. We all watch it, nobody even seeming to breathe, until Zila breaks the silence in her strangely calm voice.
“One Syldrathi war cruiser, Wraith class, turning straight for us, sir.”
“Maker’s sake,” Ty mutters.
“Transmission incoming,” she reports.
“Onscreen,” Ty orders, turning to his sister. “Scar, work some magic.”
“Magic?” Scarlett raises one sculpted eyebrow in disbelief. “I left my wizard’s staff in my other pants, Bee-bro.”
Tyler meets her gaze squarely. “You got this, Scar.”
An image blossoms to life on the main display. It’s a beautiful young woman, a Syldrathi like Kal, Aedra, First Taneth, like everyone here except the Legionnaires. Her skin is olive, almost golden, her silver hair pulled back into a series of ornate braids. Black armor makes broad shoulders squarer, and it’s adorned with what might be blades. Her canines are filed into sharp points as well—or maybe they just come that way. She’s speaking in what I assume is Syldrathi, but as she registers Scarlett’s features, her scowl deepens, suspicion slipping into her icy tone.
“What are you doing here, Terran?”
“My name is Scarlett Jones,” Scarlett replies smoothly. “My squad and I are representatives of Aurora Legion, here in Neutral Space on an aid mission.”
“You are meddling in Syldrathi affairs.”
“We’re providing medical assistance to refugees, as per the provisos in—”
“Those who aid enemies of the Unbroken become enemies of the Unbroken.”
Scarlett runs one hand through her red hair, widening her stance, bracing herself as though she’s about to throw a punch. “With all due respect, the Aurora Legion is a neutral party in your conflict, ma’am. I advise you to withdraw. We are authorized to respond with force in the event our safety is threatened.”
“Threatened?”
The young woman shakes her head and sneers.
“We make no threats, little Terran. Only promises. Ready your souls