"From where? The ships?"

  "Negative," Mark replied, shaking his head. "They're coming up from the surface of Wolf 1061."

  Soren frowned, a suspicion forming in his mind. "They were searching for the data recorder planetside. Put the sensor grid over the barrel. Give me a visual on primary.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  The viewscreen flickered, zooming in on the drones as they rose from the planet's atmosphere. They were standard Navy recon models, sleek and fast, loaded with sensors and cameras rather than ordnance. A dozen darted up to rejoin the waiting flotilla.

  The bridge was utterly silent as they watched, every eye glued to the screen, every breath held in anticipation. If the drones found the recorder before they did…

  But as the minutes ticked by and the flotilla made no move to break orbit, it became more likely that the search had come up empty. A collective sigh of relief gusted across the bridge.

  Soren, however, remained tense, his mind racing. "They're not giving up," he said, more to himself than anyone else. "They'll keep looking."

  Beside him, Jack nodded. "Which means we need to find that drone first."

  Before Soren could reply, Ethan's voice rang out from the engineering station, sharp with alarm. "Captain, we've got a problem. The power supply is fluctuating again. There’s a risk the cloak could fail. We need to clear the area immediately."

  Soren shifted toward the engineer, a spike of frustration lancing through him. "Again? I thought you said you had it under control."

  Ethan, his face tight with worry, shook his head. "We did. But these readings…I’m sorry, Captain."

  "Sang," Soren said, his voice deadly calm. "Take us to the far side of Wolf 1061. We can use the planet to mask our signature. Stay calm and steady, we don’t want to blow our cover trying to rush away.”

  "Aye, Captain," she replied.

  The Wraith shuddered as the engines engaged, the deck plates thrumming with the sudden power surge. On the viewscreen, the stars wheeled as the ship came about, the massive bulk of Wolf 1061 swinging into view.

  But even as they accelerated away from the flotilla, Ethan's voice rang out again, edged with barely contained panic. "Power levels are becoming more unstable. We're not going to make it."

  Soren gritted his teeth, his hands clenching on the armrests of his chair. He could feel the tension ratcheting up on the bridge, the fear and uncertainty palpable in the air.

  "Sang," he said, fighting to keep his voice steady. “Forget what I said earlier. Give us everything we've got."

  She nodded, jaw clenched tight as she opened the throttle. Soren brought the engineering readings up on his control surface, wincing when he saw how what had been a straight line a few minutes earlier suddenly began curving like a roller coaster. The request for more velocity had pushed the line into the red, and for a heartbeat that seemed to stretch for an eternity, nothing happened. Then, with a bone-deep shudder, the Wraith lurched forward, the sudden acceleration pressing them back into their seats.

  The burn brought them swiftly away from the flotilla, and Sang maintained it for nearly ten minutes before reaching Wolf 1061’s sensor shadow.

  Ethan exhaled shakily, his face pale but relieved. "We made it," he breathed. "Only just, but we made it."

  “Keira, shut down the cloak,” Soren ordered. “Bobby, set a course for a slow deceleration within the planet’s orbit. Make sure it keeps us clear of prying eyes.”

  “Aye, Captain,” they replied.

  “Cloak disabled,” Keira announced a moment later.

  He eyed the power readings, which had leveled out when the cloak was shut down. He remained silent for a few rapid heartbeats. He had truly believed, for those few endless seconds, that they wouldn't make it. That he would lose everything—his ship, crew, and chance to find Dana—in one fell swoop.

  As the reality of their narrow escape sank in, he felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him, the adrenaline draining away and leaving him feeling hollow. He had been starting to feel comfortable on the Wraith, believing that maybe, just maybe, they stood a chance of pulling this off.

  Trust was hard to earn and easy to lose. His trust in this ship was no different. How were they supposed to succeed when the very ship they relied on seemed to be working against them?

  Ethan, seeming to sense Soren's dark turn of thoughts, straightened from his console. “Permission to head to engineering, Captain?”

  “Please do,” Soren replied. “Collect Wilf and Tashi on the way. We need to solve these power issues once and for all.”

  “I apologize again, Soren,” Ethan said. “I don’t⁠—”

  “It’s not your fault, Ethan. I know you’re doing the best you can. And I have total faith in you.”

  Ethan nodded, his expression showing his appreciation for the comment. “Thank you, Captain.” He hurried from the bridge.

  “I’m sorry, too,” Jack said. “This ship was my doing.”

  “I don’t want your apology either, Jack,” Soren replied. ”As much as she’s testing me right now, we wouldn’t have gotten this far without you or this ship. We knew there were kinks. Hopefully, they won’t cost us too dearly.” He stood up, taking a couple of deep breaths to calm himself. “I have a jog to finish. The bridge is all yours, Jack.”

  CHAPTER 28

  Two days passed in a blur of activity and anticipation aboard the Wraith. Still on edge from their narrow escape from discovery by the Navy, the crew threw themselves into their work with renewed fervor. Ethan and his team practically lived in engineering, pouring over schematics and diagrams, determined to solve the power fluctuation issues once and for all.

  The waiting was the hardest part, the knowledge that every second they spent searching was another second that Dana was in the hands of an unknown enemy.

  At least, Soren hoped that was the case. It was still better than his darling daughter being dead.

  On the morning of the third day, Ethan strode onto the bridge with a triumphant grin on his face. "Captain," he said, his voice ringing with barely contained excitement. “We've done it. The power fluctuations are solved."

  Soren looked up from his command chair, a flicker of hope kindling in his chest. "You're certain?"

  "Absolutely," Ethan replied, practically bouncing on his heels. “Tashi discovered a faulty regulator in the primary power coupling. It was buried deep in the subsystems. If not for Lina’s small hands, we would have had to take the whole ship offline to replace it. Anyway, we swapped it out for a spare from the station, and the readings have been rock steady ever since."

  A slow smile spread across Soren's face. "Outstanding work, Ethan. I knew you could do it."

  "Thank you, Captain. But that's not all." His grin widened. "We also finally got the comms array online."

  Soren's eyebrows shot up. "Seriously? The comms, too?"

  "Affirmative. We were already digging around in all the wiring diagrams and checking every transformer and coupling. It made sense to get the wiring done to connect the bridge to the arrays so we could rule it out as a cause for the fluctuations. We’re good to go if you want to call home.”

  “Still not a great idea,” Jack said. “The transmitter satellites are all monitored. If they trace anything unexpected back here, we’ll give ourselves away.”

  “Jane isn’t expecting to hear from me any time soon,” Soren replied, getting to his feet. He crossed the bridge to clasp Ethan's shoulder. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate this, Ethan. You and your team have done a hell of a job."

  Ethan ducked his head, pleased by the praise. "Just doing our duty, Captain."

  Soren turned to Keira. "Re-engage the cloak," he ordered. "Let's make sure those power levels stay where they're supposed to."

  "Aye, Captain," she replied, tapping on her console. “Cloak engaged.”

  Soren grinned, and a cheer went up from the crew, the tension of the past days finally breaking when the bridge lights didn’t dim with the cloak’s activation, like they had every time before. “So far, so good.” He returned to his chair, his eyes glued to the engineering readouts on his display. The line remained perfectly straight, not even a flicker of instability. He exhaled slowly, a weight lifting from his shoulders. “This is the one scenario where a flatline is good news. Please pass my appreciation to the rest of your team.”

  “I absolutely will, Captain.”

  Soren took another moment to bask in the relief before turning to Samira. "Comms, confirm the system is fully operational and keyed to military channels."

  "Already done, Captain," she replied, a hint of pride in her voice. “Recon dropped a tranSat at their ingress point, and it’s available for connection. It’s the best test I can do while we’re being shadowed by the flotilla.”

  Soren nodded, satisfied. Then, a thought occurred to him. "Jack, what about encryption? Can we patch into communications from Recon Three?

  Jack chuckled. “I was an Admiral, remember? I helped Rashad enter the keys when I arrived at the station. As long as they haven't changed those keys since I retired—and they have no reason to—we can listen in on anything."

  Soren grinned. "I should have known." He settled back in his chair. "Bastian, take us into position to eavesdrop on the flotilla. Let's see what our Navy friends have been up to."

  "Aye, Captain," Bastian replied from the helm, his hands sure and steady on the controls.

  “Samira, let me know when you have something.”

  “Aye, Captain,” she answered.

  The Wraith crept forward, silent and once more invisible, emerging from Wolf 1061’s sensor shadow and slipping into position to intercept the flotilla's communications. At that point, it became a simple waiting game.

  They didn't have to wait long.

  "Captain, I've got something," Samira reported, her voice tight with concentration. "Chatter between the recon ships. They're talking about an attack."

  Soren sat up straighter. "An attack? Where?"

  Samira listened for a moment longer, her brow furrowed. Then her eyes widened. "PX-2847," she said, turning her attention to Soren.

  “Jungle,” Jack said. “It’s a Marine training planet.”

  “I knew that sounded familiar,” Soren said, growing nervous. “You don’t think Alex might have been there, do you?”

  “Don’t jump to conclusions,” Jack replied. “There are dozens of Marine bases, and Force Recon does monthly rotations across all of them. The odds that they hit the one where your boy is currently stationed are slim to none.”

  "What are they saying about the attack?” Soren asked, relaxing slightly. Jack was right. There was no reason to worry until things became more clear.

  "It's bad, Captain," Samira replied, her face pale. "They're saying they received an emergency transmission right before communications were severed. The planet is lost. The base, the civilian settlement...everything. They don’t know if anyone is still alive.”

  “Do they know who attacked?” Jack questioned.

  “No, sir. Only that it appeared to be FUPN ships that jumped into orbit and started shooting.”

  A heavy silence fell over the bridge, each crew member processing the devastating news in their own way. Soren closed his eyes for a moment, his heart aching for the Marines and civilians caught in the attack. So much loss, so much destruction.

  “What is going on out there?” Jack said softly, shaking his head.

  “Whatever it is, it appears to be spreading,” Soren replied. “First Dana, then the station, now Jungle. I bet more reports will come in soon enough.”

  “The Navy won’t be able to keep a lid on this forever,” Jack said. “The FUP government will need to find someone to blame.”

  “Which may be just what the attackers want,” Soren said. “Samira, keep monitoring. Let me know if you hear anything else of value to our mission.”

  Samira listened in on the fleet's chatter for the next hour, passing the pertinent bits on. Piecing together the scraps of information painted a somber picture. The enemy had struck with overwhelming force, the attack sudden and brutal, catching the defenders completely off guard. Enemy numbers and firepower had far exceeded anything the Marines could counter, but beyond the initial assault, details were scarce.

  Right now, everything they picked up could be pure scuttlebutt, not official communications from up the chain of command. The accuracy of the stories the spacers told each other had to be taken with a grain of salt..

  Another hour passed before Samira straightened deliberately in her seat. "Captain, I've got a high-priority transmission coming through the tranSat.”

  “Can you put it through the bridge speakers?” he asked.

  “Aye, Captain. It looks like I have full station functionality.”

  A moment later, a voice filled the bridge, the audio slightly distorted but still intelligible.

  "...searched grid 17 and 18," the voice said, clipped and professional. "Jump drive particle traces suggest three jumps into the system and no jumps out."

  Soren immediately recognized the speaker’s voice. He had met the man at a couple of official functions shortly before retirement. Commander Karlov, the commander of Recon Three.

  "Acknowledged, Commander," another voice replied. Montoya. Soren sat forward, more focused on the conversation. This was exactly what he had been hoping to hear. "What's your assessment?"

  “We have every reason to believe whoever attacked the Valkyrie never jumped out of the area. Either they’re traveling at sublight speeds for some reason or they’re still here.”

  Soren perked up even more at that. The Wraith’s sensors didn’t have the acuity to detect particle displacement to such fine levels that they could assess whether a ship was coming or going. If the ship that attacked the Valkyrie had remained in the Wolf system, Dana might still be nearby.

  “Do you think the enemy is on the same hunt we are?” Montoya asked.

  “For the Valkyrie’s data recorder, yes, sir.”

  “And where are you with that?”

  “We surveyed the entire planet, but didn’t find anything of note. We’re preparing to do a full sweep. However…” Karlov trailed off.

  “Go ahead, Commander,” Montoya prodded.

  “Honestly, Admiral, I'm hesitant to make any larger movements without Marine support. If we encounter the Komodo, we’ll have no choice but to either attack or flee, neither of which will offer us an opportunity to get our people back.”

  "I understand, Commander. We're sending Third Company to replace First. They should be there in the next forty-eight hours. You have permission to remain static until they arrive, but then I want all of your effort put into locating that recorder.”

  “Yes, sir,” Karlov answered. “If I might before you go, Admiral?”

  “What is it, Commander?”

  “Has there been any word from Jungle? Do we know for sure if First Company is lost?”

  At the question, Soren felt like the floor had dropped from under him. Against the odds, First Company—Alex’s company—had been stationed on Jungle during the attack. His son was out there, possibly fighting for his life, possibly...

  No. He wouldn't allow himself to even think about it. Alex was strong and resourceful. A Strickland through and through. If anyone could survive this, it was him.

  “We canceled the transports when the emergency transmission came through,” Montoya responded. “Recon Four is en route, but as you know, Jungle is a remote planet. It will take them some time to arrive. For now, we’re assuming the worst and hoping for the best.”

  “Yes, sir,” Karlov said. “I will keep them all in my thoughts.”

  “As will I. Montoya out.”

  The comms went dead as the admiral disconnected. Soren sat back in his chair, fighting to calm his emotions.

  “Soren, I’m sorry,” Jack said. “I⁠—”

  “You couldn’t know,” Soren replied. “And your math was still right. It seems like we Stricklands are running into some seriously bad luck right now.”

  “If it’s a matter of luck at all. I’m starting to feel like your family is being targeted.”

  “That’s ridiculous. This is an awful lot of effort for one small family. And what would be the motivation?”

  “I’m just speculating,” Jack said. “You know, PX-2847 is only six days out from here. We could go check on things?”

  Soren glanced at his friend, considering the idea, and for more than one reason. Karlov was right. If Dana was onboard the Komodo, they could not get her back in their current crew configuration. They didn’t even have a plural number of firearms on board, never mind the equipment and training to breach a starship.

  At the same time, the enemy and the Navy appeared to be hunting the data recorder, just like them. Abandoning the Wolf system for twelve days or more gave them a huge advantage in locating it first. And that recorder wasn’t just a potential clue to Dana’s disappearance. It was likely the key to everything they didn’t understand. If he turned back now, if he gave up the hunt...it could all be for nothing. They could lose their only chance to find answers, to bring Dana home.

  How could he really prioritize one child over the other? Could he live with himself if something happened to Alex while he was chasing that needle in a haystack to find Dana?

  Soren closed his eyes, his mind and heart torn in two directions. It was an agony unlike anything he had ever known, a pain that cut him to his very core.

  In the end, though, there was only one choice he could make. The choice that had driven him out here in the first place, the choice that had led him to assemble his loyal crew and set out on this desperate mission.

  Dana. He had to find Dana. Had to trust that Alex was alive, that he was fighting with all the skill and courage Soren knew he possessed.

  It was the hardest decision of his life. But as he opened his eyes and met the gazes of his crew, he knew it was the right one.

  "We stay on mission," he said, his voice rough but resolute. "We keep searching for the recorder."

  He saw the understanding in their eyes, the silent support and loyalty. They were with him, no matter what. Ready to follow him into the unknown, to face whatever dangers lay ahead.