“Harkness’s office has it under review. He’ll discuss in Council and make a recommendation.”

  She held up the tablet and scrolled through the logs.

  “Right here. This part. The transcript from their first contact. The Captain says they arrived from beyond the ‘visible realm’ of our galaxy. I find that wording very strange. Do you think they’ll have knowledge of our discovery?”

  “You might be diving off a tall cliff, Abby. I’ll admit the timing is odd, but how could they know? Our own cosmologists can’t agree on what it means.”

  “Angel, this could be our first significant break. Do Evander and his team know what’s happened today?”

  “Not unless someone broke every protocol in the book.”

  “Then perhaps I …”

  He planted a finger over her lips.

  “Absolutely no. It took you three years to clean up the Caliendo scandal. Please. Let’s play this out. Go into Council, make nice, see where negotiations stand. If we gain leverage, we’ll link Evander.”

  “Promise?”

  “Promise.”

  She stepped back and reexamined her brother.

  “There was a time when you kept your promises, Angel. It’s the beard. Ever since you grew that nest, you’re harder to read.”

  He ran his hand over the graying, undisciplined mess.

  “What you mean to say is I’m more distinguished. Ten years older, according to Salas and Alfredo.”

  “They undershot. I’d say twenty on a good day.”

  He kissed her on the cheek.

  “You once said the Perons used our good looks against us. Now, I fashion myself into a senior patrician and you say I can’t keep my promises. I’m hurt, sis.”

  “Bah. I’ll give you blisters head to toe if you allow the Perons to control this agenda.”

  He looked over her shoulder.

  “Speaking of. Smiles all around, sis.”

  Olivia Peron approached in a dark, form-fitting business suit, her head buried in her tablet. Her aide followed two steps behind.

  “Liv,” Angel said before they collided.

  The woman, well into her seventies but with a surgically refined face worthy of her middle daughter, glared up as if annoyed.

  “Ah. Dumas. You both made it. How good.”

  “Huge developments,” Angel replied. “Most exciting.”

  “Different. Yes. Abby, you were in Glaston today?”

  “I was, thanks.”

  “You needn’t have left the fair so soon.”

  “What can I tell you, Liv? It was a fair, same this year as any other. But when I heard of the alien ship. Well.”

  Liv glanced at her device as if wishing to escape.

  “We’ll begin Council in twenty. Everyone will be present.”

  “Oh? Has Alazar returned? I heard he was overdue.”

  Liv had few discernible facial tics, her muscles molded into a single construct devoid of flexibility.

  “My nephew is still on family business.”

  “Oh, so his meeting with the Empress went well?”

  She puckered her glossy red lips into the semblance of a smile.

  “He’ll provide a full accounting at the next regular assembly.”

  “Curious,” Angel said. “No response from Chastain about their next target? That was the purpose. Yes?”

  “Come now, Angel. Are you implying ulterior motives?”

  “Not in the least. But the markets are nervous. The fleet has never encircled Esperanza for so long.”

  “Twenty minutes, Dumas.”

  Liv retreated to her tablet and motioned her aide to follow.

  “Pleasant as ever,” Angel whispered.

  “She was born a cunt. She’s lying, brother.”

  “About Alazar? Almost certainly. Best we not speculate. Yet.”

  “I’ll add it to the agenda. At the very least, force her and Garruth to put something into the record. I don’t care for Alazar one wit, but he should have returned by now.”

  “Leave it to me, sis. I’ll speak to his father on the side. If there’s anything amiss, Garruth will know.”

  “Unless Liv vowed him to silence. She’s been threatening to cut off his testicles for decades. You know that, yes?”

  Angel smiled. He enjoyed his sister when she exuded just the right amount of steam.

  “She’s a cunt, not a butcher. You give her too much credit.”

  “I’m not sure Aden would agree.”

  Her comment froze Angel in his tracks, which she intended.

  “Don’t go there, Abby. I’ve asked you before. Politely.”

  She saw the bruising in his eyes but didn’t care. He needed to be hurt until he took the proper time to listen.

  “I’ll never drop it,” she said. “There’s too much evidence.”

  “No. There’s innuendo and coincidence. Nothing more. Aden made his choice. I never blamed him for following that path. The Perons had nothing to do with …”

  She held up the tablet.

  “See this? The first contact transcript. These two Talons fought on Hokkaido. They might know something about Aden.”

  “They were Fifth Battalion. Aden was Seventh. They fought on different continents. He died three years before they disappeared. The chance of …”

  “Don’t write this off, brother.”

  “Let it go, Abby. We have to live for today. Between this alien ship, the Swarm, and the discovery, we have a full platter.”

  “I’ll try. No promises.”

  “I wouldn’t expect you to keep them.”

  * * *

  Kara loved being at the heartbeat of the action, and today that meant Lightfoot Deck 3. After three hours of talks with the Orzed Fleet Admiral and the Shunta Hia, the first handshakes and salutes proceeded. An Orzed Captain arrived with a small detachment of officers to inspect the UNF warship. Soon, the diplomatic team would take the shuttle Argo planetside to begin formal discussions.

  Lightfoot’s officers plus more than a hundred warriors and deck crew stood in tight formation while the Orzed Captain passed in review, flanked by Yusef and Exeter. Kara and her diplomatic partners waited outside Argo, the last to be introduced.

  The visiting Captain’s age and demeanor shocked Kara and her team. He was short and stocky, an ancient figure easily in his late seventies – if not older – with two half-moons of silver hair and a matching mustache that hid his upper lip. His black and red uniform bore a convolution of stripes, medals, and stars one might expect of an Admiral. The three trailing officers passed for grandchildren.

  “It’s a strange choice,” Kara told Rikard Bryznewieski and Henri Kato, her partners along with Yusef. “Cando told me Orzed retired Captains by age fifty. Trouble with psychological profiles.”

  “Understandable,” Rikard said. “A man who spends his entire career on the losing side will reach a breaking point.”

  “He said some Captains endured three Swarm Conversions. The horrors they must have seen …”

  “Not this one, apparently.” Henri, a stout man with a poetic lilt, stood to Kara’s left. “I proffer two possibilities. He is so inured to the bloodshed and desolation, he now lives only for the uniform and the privileges it affords.”

  “Sounds dangerous,” said Kara, to which Rikard nodded.

  “The other, Henri?”

  “He’s a prop sent by elements who don’t take us seriously. I thought we earned an Admiral given the breadth of our proposal.”

  “I caution patience,” Rikard said. “For all we know, which is little, this Captain might hold legendary status.”

  “We’re about to find out,” Kara said as the review neared.

  Yusef made the introductions.

  “Capt. Myles Enfante, this is my diplomatic team. First, we have Rikard Bryznewieski.”

  The former Vice-Premier of Earth’s unity government extended his hand, which Capt. Enfante took. Kara noted a slight tremor.

  “An honor, Captain.”

  “Rikard has a background in both military and political circles.”

  “A dose of advice,” Enfante told Rikard. “You already have one soldier on your team.” He glanced at Yusef. “I recommend you focus on the political. The Council appreciates balance.”

  “I’ll keep that well in mind, Captain.”

  Yusef resumed.

  “Next up is Kara Aleksanyan. She is one of the founders of our government’s diplomatic corps.”

  Per the script, Yusef omitted her relationship to the UNF’s High Admiral. If the mission went awry, no one wanted Kara to be used as a bargaining chip. The old man extended his hand.

  “Beautiful without trying too hard. Good. The Council’s women take umbrage at showstoppers.”

  “I’ll try not to stand in their light, Captain.”

  She wondered if he revealed too much. Was this idle gossip or the warning of a genuine insider?

  “And finally, Henri Kato is a master negotiator who has spent his entire adult life in a variety of diplomatic roles.”

  “I see,” Enfante said. “A spinner of words.”

  “Name a greater invention, Captain.”

  “A point to the master diplomat. I wish your team the best. Under other circumstances, I’d suggest you not waste your time.”

  Kara leaned toward the idea of Enfante being an insider.

  “As a veteran, what do you think of our proposal?” She said.

  He wagged two fingers.

  “Not for me to say, dear. The Council’s word is law.”

  “I believe we can make the Shunta Hia see reason.”

  Her comment drew a chuckle followed by a sigh.

  “Idealism is not permitted inside the Actuarium. Leave it on your shuttle.” He winked. “Dock security will keep it safe.”

  “Thank you, Captain,” Yusef said. “We expected a challenging reception. Now, I believe Capt. Woolsey has promised you a grand tour. Yes?”

  “If you’ll follow me, Capt. Enfante,” Exeter said.

  One member of Enfante’s detail remained with the diplomats.

  “Lt. Cambria will supervise our journey,” Yusef said.

  She stood at attention, her shoulders rock-hard, jaws like a vice, black hair pinned back. She spoke without emotion.

  “We will jump to the capital’s AEZ. I will program coordinates into your Nav. You are not permitted to operate any aspect of the vessel. If technology poses an obstacle, I will solicit advice. You may offer verbal assistance only. Understood?”

  All nodded at the negotiated terms.

  “If I may, Lt. Cambria,” Kara said. “What is an AEZ?”

  “Aperture Exit Zone. Wormhole travel is tightly restricted, especially in urban areas.”

  Cambria talked like an automaton, but Kara didn’t hold it against her. She followed orders and was likely nervous that she not screw up her one job on this crucial day.

  They took their seats in the navigation circle for a one-minute journey inside worm.

  Yusef talked Cambria through the differences in the Nav holo and watched her enter the coordinates to the capital city Sinto. Kara felt many things, but nervous wasn’t one of them.

  Today, we make history.

  She refused to check her idealism at the dock.

  * * *

  Exeter waited for his special guest to ask questions, but Enfante usually nodded or grunted approval when Lightfoot’s Captain pointed out her features. One of Enfante’s delegation broke from the tour to consult with Baz on the Carbedyne engine design, which he found fascinating. Exeter, Enfante, and one security officer remained when they entered the bridge.

  Enfante’s eyes lit up.

  “This is it, Captain? I’ve never seen a bridge so small. I have a dining room table which compares favorably.”

  Exeter took it as a compliment.

  “Our fleet puts a premium on efficiency, Captain. Our warships are new. The engineers reimagined everything, stem to stern.”

  “The workstations are miniscule.”

  “Plates and holos, sir. Lex, raise the ULI.” A pentagonal holo with a wide array of interfaces arose within easy reach of the five bridge officers. “Please, Capt. Enfante, take my chair.”

  “I will not appropriate another Captain’s hard-earned throne. Not even for a joyride.”

  “I won’t accept no, sir. Plus, it’s very comfortable.”

  He raised his hands in surrender. “If you insist, Captain.”

  Enfante settled in with a huge smile.

  “Oh, great heavens. I could take a long nap here.”

  The bridge crew nodded agreement.

  “The Universal Logistics Interface allows the five of us to interact with all facets of the ship simultaneously.”

  “Quite a design, Capt. Woolsey. What is the ULI’s benefit?”

  “Close-quarters combat, sir. My officers have specific duties, but anyone on my bridge must know the entire ship intimately. If Lightfoot’s systems are being stressed …”

  “I see. Reduced comm chatter.”

  “Every second we save can make the difference.”

  Enfante pushed himself out of Exeter’s chair.

  “Impressive, Captain. Quite the surprise you sprung today.”

  “On behalf of my crew, thank you. That concludes the tour. If you’d like a private space to compile your report for the Shunta Hia, you’re welcome to my office.”

  “The office, I’d like. Privacy? Eh. I thought to sit down with you and run through a gauntlet of questions. Unless I’m taking you away from your duties.”

  Exeter remembered his marching orders: Bend over backwards to accommodate. They must not believe we’re holding out.

  “Lex, take the conn.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Enfante told his security officer to hook up with the Orzed engineer who broke off earlier and compare notes. Alone with Exeter, he said the executive office seemed larger than the bridge.

  “It’s a fine meeting space, Capt. Woolsey. Well apportioned.”

  “I want my people to feel at ease in here. I make a point of establishing relationships. They need to know I’m here for them.”

  Enfante compared chairs before easing into one with the same smile the Captain’s chair delivered.

  “You’re a wise man, Captain. Remarkable coming from someone who – and don’t take this the wrong way – looks barely a man.”

  Exeter chuckled. “No offense taken. I’m the youngest Captain in our fleet. May I offer you a drink? I have water, liquor, juice.”

  “Later, perhaps. Please, Captain. Sit. I’m not that important.”

  “I disagree,” Exeter said, but he complied and crossed his legs. “What else would you like to know about Lightfoot or the UNF?”

  “Nothing for now. I’m more interested in you, Captain. How did you rise so quickly in the ranks?”

  “We’re new. Anyone with combat history had an advantage.”

  “And yours is not only extensive but exemplary. I reviewed your service record. Your unit was quite remarkable in an otherwise hopeless scenario.”

  “I was blessed with some of the best Talon brothers and sisters a man could wish for.”

  “Your unit’s KTC ratio exceeded the margins in Fifth Battalion by threefold. To lose so few Talons while killing so many enemy … I’m surprised no one received special commendation.”

  Exeter did not enjoy reliving those days.

  “We often exceeded protocol, Captain. We were known to pursue the enemy beyond command parameters.”

  “Now that I did see noted. Too bad. You should have been an inspiration to other units. Instead, I-Guard investigated you.”

  His heart skipped a tad faster.

  “Investigated? For what?”

  “Not your battlefield activities. No, there were discrepancies in your service record. You and one other.”

  “About?”

  “They suspected you joined the Talons under false identity. They failed to verify your birth and residential records with your home world. Had you not disappeared, they likely would have arrested you within a week under suspicion of treason. You wouldn’t have been the first Swarm infiltrators.”

  Shit. Was that Enfante’s purpose? Determine if the Lightfoot was a Swarm attempt at infiltration? Perhaps a threat to the Shunta Hia? Exeter knew what he couldn’t do: Become defensive.

  “Relax, Capt. Woolsey. I know you’re not a scorpion in disguise. No scorpion could have killed so many of those green demons with such relentless fervor. Records say you slaughtered hundreds.”

  “I did my job, sir.”

  “But you weren’t born in our corner of the universe, were you? Neither Converted world nor free.”

  “No, I was not.”

  “And the other one under investigation?”

  Exeter didn’t have to guess.

  “Ryllen Jee. He was an outsider, too. He’s dead.”

  “When you contacted the fleet, you said this ship arrived from beyond the visible realm of our galaxy. You actually meant ‘different universe.’”

  Exeter crossed the other leg.

  “How much do your people already know?”

  “Enough to build a framework. When you allowed the two-way holo, we saw a third man standing to your right. Bonju Taron. We ran his image and made a remarkable discovery. I-Guard agents saw him meeting with you and the other outsider in the days before your unit disappeared. I believe you have gaps to fill, Capt. Woolsey. If you don’t mind.”

  Exeter wanted his pipe, but he restrained himself.

  “You’re not an active Orzed Captain, are you?”

  Enfante smiled, yet Exeter detected nothing sinister.

  “I’d love my own bridge, but I’m far too old.”

  Exeter pointed to the cabinet where he stored the liquor.

  “I’m going to pour a drink. What will you have?”

  Enfante scratched above his ear.

  “Whatever you’re having, Capt. Woolsey.”

  “Whiskey?” Exeter heard no objection. “I’ll explain everything if you tell me who you are.”

  “Oh, that’s easy.” Enfante reached above his other ear. “I’m the man who’s going to keep you alive to see tomorrow.”