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“I know, Admiral. And if Praxis should be compromised, we may have far less.”

“Hmmph. The joys of flying blind.”

Nilsson left the command bridge to rendezvous with his team and run every potential scenario through his mind. He grabbed a quick meal from a kiosk. Was it his last? He banished the thought as soon as it arrived. Among the many scenarios, Nilsson considered the most unlikely of the lot: An encounter with Lt. Michael Cooper.

He wasn’t about to write off the possibility Cooper escaped via the Anchor, or that he had help. He and Maya Fontaine kept close company. Aldo Cabrise did not put up a fight when he discovered the secret evacuations. But even if Cooper did reach Hiebimini, would he have arrived anywhere near the population? Perhaps he was wandering aimlessly, realizing his luck ran out.

No, Nilsson thought with a grin. Cooper works harder than anyone I’ve ever known. Hard work buys luck.

No one knew of Nilsson’s treason, and no one was left alive on Tamarind to prove he passed along the pattern sleeve. So, this was one scenario he refused to share with his team.

An hour later, he stood on the bridge with the ship’s command staff, Admiral Poussard, and three Presidium reps. Praxis stared into the heart of the jumpgate, its system engines engaged. On one holowindow, the attack fleet of twenty-five retrofitted capital and transport ships arrayed neatly in formation, well behind Praxis.

Poussard opened a fleetwide comm.

“Fleet, this is your Admiral. Stand ready. Combat status: Blue. To all soldiers of the Guard: You will soon engage in a battle unlike anything seen in the history of the human race. You will cross a fold in space and emerge in the midst of combat. Whether you attack from the air, from the ground, or in space, your fight will begin immediately. The enemy will lie before you. And the enemy, my dear soldiers, my protectors of the Chancellory, must be annihilated. No mercy. No quarter. No survivors.

“Before this standard day concludes, we will reclaim the Hiebimini system, eliminate the only serious threat to our earned status as the superior caste among humanity, and begin an exploration for new solutions to halt the genetic affliction we face. We do not fight for ourselves. We fight for our progeny. If our children and grandchildren are the last of our lines, they will cry out to us as they die, asking: Why? Why did you fail us?”

She paused then softened her tone. “To all Captains. Once we have completed our analysis, we will transmit a package of quantum signatures complete with attack instructions through the Anchor on this ship. Maj. Burren aboard UG Transport Hummel will reset the gate and distribute attack orders. Be prepared for any scenario. Jump on her command. Poussard out.”

All eyes still upon her, Poussard offered a side-nod. Applause followed. She turned to Nilsson on her right, Capt. Forsythe on her left.

“I’ve always been quite good at motivational speeches. I have so little opportunity to use them. Yes?”

The more he listened, the more Nilsson thought Poussard was no better than any other stodgy, self-aggrandizing fool who’d been locked away inside the GPM too long. I’ll do this one thing for you, he thought, and then I’m out.

“Col. Johansson, open the gate aperture.”

The jumpgate exploded into life, its pulsating whirlpool equal parts terrifying and thrilling.

“Steady as she goes. Ramp speed only.”

Praxis pushed forward but at five percent of maximum velocity. Speed was no factor in folding space, but they did not want to enter the Hiebimini system with a bang. The longer they remained undetected, the greater their odds of victory.

Passing through the gate proved about as exciting as walking through an open doorway in a darkened house. No shutter, no jolt, no biological response as they folded space.

A blink and then …

The stellar configuration changed; holowindows tracking their position flickered in a confusing series of images and graphics.

“Col. Johansson, our GPNM coordinates?”

“Confirming, Admiral. Confirming. Yes. We’re here. Hiebimini system. GPNM axis tilts at 14.775 degrees on the Pheni scale. Mark 4.1.1.7.9 off the radial. Searching for Hiebimini.”

The visual scanners beat the Colonel to the punch, and another round of applause filled the command bridge.

“There she is,” Poussard said. “Astounding. Distance, Colonel?”

“Seven hundred thousand kilometers.”

“Hold position. Shut down system engines and pre-determined non-essentials.” She turned her attention to other officers. “Route additional power to long-range telemetry. I want to know everything about that planet, its tiny population, and all their system assets.”

“We’re on it, Admiral,” a Lieutenant said, huddling with his team.

Forsythe pointed to a broad graphic overview of the system indicating where Praxis was located in relation to the planet and the Nexus point.

“If our theory is right,” Forsythe said, “we should be invisible. With their limited capacity, including three less ships, they’ll almost certainly be focusing their energy on the route between Hiebimini and the Nexus. They’ll never see us come up the rear. Frankly, Admiral, we could have jumped in much closer with little risk.”

“I appreciate the thought, but another officer recently reminded me how much we’ve underestimated these people. We can learn everything we need from here, but it might take us a few minutes longer. Worth the gamble, Captain. This is why we’re using a science vessel. Best equipped for long-range survey.”

She winked at Nilsson, as if expecting him to thank her for the kudos. He wasn’t in the mood.

Twenty nervous minutes later, the planetary survey hit gold.

“And you’re certain of this?” Poussard asked the science team.

“Yes, Admiral. All advanced functions are congested here, within an eight-kilometer radius. We’re also detecting radiation signatures consistent with wormhole activity as well as Carbedyne nacelle emissions, plus industrial and agricultural activity.”

She asked the team to zoom in on the region, but the best images of surface features

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