After eighteen hours, they had a clear picture of the Vaadwaur Supremacy’s occupation of the Alpha Centauri system. It didn’t help.

‘I’m confident,’ said Aryn to Ranicus and Cassidy as the three stood before the display in the Rookery, ‘that the Vaadwaur are using the pre-existing comms network to overcome the Blackout’s impact on their local communications. Particularly for messages between stars.’

‘So it’ll take us hours to get a message from Proxima to Toliman,’ growled Cassidy, ‘but they still got instantaneous chatter. Great. Any more thoughts on the Blackout still affecting warp inside our little bubble?’

‘I think,’ Aryn said carefully, ‘the tachyons emitted from Underspace that are the root cause of the subspace harmonic fluctuations are interacting with the natural gravitational shear – the pull between the three stars and the planetary -’

‘I know about the gravitational pull of the suns of Alpha Centauri,’ Cassidy said with a glare. ‘You’re saying that’s extending the distortion to subspace from the Blackout? Or creating a whole new problem?’

‘Extending,’ said Aryn sheepishly. ‘I’m running scans on any ships at warp as closely as I can without letting them paint us. Hopefully, that’ll give us some insight on how warp fields are being sustained.’

Ranicus tapped her chin. ‘You think we can beat it? That’d be a crucial edge.’

He nodded. ‘Maximum speed right now is warp three. Warp four is over twice as fast.’

‘That’s a great dream,’ cut in Cassidy, ‘but right now that’s pie-in-the-sky shit. I want more details about how the Vaadwaur are using the comms network to talk.’

‘I want more information on the defences of Proxima, and the routes of the patrols roaming the trinary system,’ said Ranicus, eyes on the map. ‘It looks like the Vaadwaur couldn’t seize control of most of Proxima’s orbital defences; they’ve disabled local defence facilities. It’s just their task group in the system, and the platforms around the industry at the gas giant.’

Cassidy glanced at her. ‘You’re thinking of a strike on Proxima. Squadron arrives, loses its tail in the debris field -’

‘No. Squadron arrives and hits Proxima with everything they’ve got. While Vaadwaur forces are strung across the system, when they don’t see us coming.’ Ranicus swept a hand across the holo-map showing the strategic overview of the system. ‘We can’t control timing. Which is why I want to know what the patrols are doing. Are we lucky, are they out of position to quickly reinforce? Or do we need to direct, say, Tempest to hold back from a main assault and intercept them?’

Cassidy sucked his teeth. ‘Ballsy.’

‘Necessary. They outnumber us greatly, and seem aware of the power of demonstrations of strength. Cultures like that usually aren’t very resilient to being on the receiving end of them.’ She looked up at him. ‘You’re right about the comms. But that’s a secondary priority. Sir.’

For a moment, she thought he’d argue at this, the first possible navigational challenge of their authority. The ship and mission were his. The operational planning responsibilities fell to her. But for all of Cassidy’s gruff assertiveness, he was not, she thought, an insecure leader, and he turned to Aryn.

‘You heard her. Liaise with Falaris. Dismissed.’

In the silence that followed Aryn’s departure, Cassidy’s eyes were on the display. When he spoke, his voice was a low, taut rumble. ‘When you draw up your battle plans for the squadron’s assault,’ he said at length, ‘find us something to hit.’

Ranicus glanced over. ‘So the Rooks contribute directly to the engagement? Or so they don’t have to sit idly by when the shooting starts.’

‘It’s what we’re here for.’

‘I’ll make the best operational decision for this mission. I can’t guarantee it’ll be what you want.’

Cassidy exhaled sharply through his nose. ‘Didn’t take you long, did it.’

‘What?’

‘To get sucked up with Command and all its big picture politics. Get lured away from your place as XO of this ship.’

She didn’t rise to the bait, and turned back to the map, hands clasped behind her back. ‘All of this assumes the team should deploy right now, anyway.’ Perhaps, she thought, she was rising to the bait, was testing him.

Cassidy’s shoulders tensed. ‘Aryn’s head is in the game. ‘

‘I’m not talking about Aryn.’ Her tone didn’t change.

‘Rosewood.’

She inclined her head slightly. ‘He’s still in his quarters.’

‘He’s gearing up to save his home. Let him take a second.’

‘Is that what he’s doing?’ She saw Cassidy’s head snap around, saw the frown, and she pressed on. ‘He’s been in there since the transmission. And he was troubled before that. When we do move, I need to know he’s operational.’

‘John’ll be fine -’

‘He might be. He might not. You can’t know that by leaving him in there.’

Cassidy folded his arms. ‘I’m not his babysitter. He’s a grown man, he’ll get his head in the game. What’s your worry? That I won’t pull him if he’s compromised?’

‘You’re protective of them. Of all of them.’ She looked at him, studying his expression. Ever since you lost Tiran. Or is it, ever since it turned out she’d been replaced by a Changeling and you never knew? ‘Will you pull him?’

His jaw clenched. ‘Is that why you’re bringing this up? To give me a chance to handle it myself before you step in?’

‘I don’t have that operational authority,’ she reminded him, almost gentle. ‘But the Rooks are an element in this strategic plan. And Rosewood is an element in the Rooks. If your defensiveness is some fear that I, an outsider, am about to interfere with your team, then… fine. But make sure you fix it.’

Cassidy was silent for a moment. Then he gave a soft exhale. ‘You think this mission is your ticket off this ship, don’t you. That if you perform well enough, they’ll restore you to proper service, not keep you stranded on the fringe out here.’

‘My mission,’ she replied coolly, ‘is the same as yours: the liberation of Alpha Centauri. If you want to spend your time covering your team’s ass, Commander, don’t let me stop you.’

His gaze was baleful as it swept from her to the strategic map. Some of this, she knew, stemmed from nothing more than a sense of futility, which he only reinforced when he grunted, ‘Just get us something to hit,’ before he left.

Leaving her with the fate of Proxima, and incomplete data. With a sigh, Ranicus loosened her uniform jacket, tied her long dark hair back, out of the way, and set down to work. One problem with studying the strategic landscape of the Federation heartlands was that they knew everything about it. She could press a button and see maps of Innes going back since the founding, see the schematics for every orbital gas processing facility from initial design through to every update. She had centuries of history and the vastness of the present at her fingertips, and barely more than a day.

An hour later, she marched out of the Rookery and hammered on the third door down the corridor. When silence met her, she hammered again.

‘Rosewood. Stop brooding. Get out here.’

More silence. Another hammering. Then –

The door slid open, and he was there, still in his uniform undershirt, hair a mess, but his eyes were brighter than she’d feared. ‘Are we moving out?’ Rosewood asked sharply. ‘Or blowing up?’

‘The Vaadwaur have troops on the ground at Innes,’ she said, meeting his eyes. ‘And they’re using them for hands-on control of the populace. Where do you expect they’re garrisoned?’

He stared at her for a moment. ‘Sensors aren’t telling us?’

‘We’re too far out for street-level scans of Innes.’

‘And your vast strategic understanding -’

‘I could spend an hour going through maps to study the city, its construction, its buildings. Or I ask a native.’

Rosewood squinted. ‘You know I’m from AC City, not Innes -’

‘You spent the other night bragging about summers there.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘You can be useful, or you can brood.’

‘I’m not brooding –’

‘Cassidy worries that you’re made of paper; that if he pushes too hard, you’ll collapse, so he’s letting you stew and build up a framework. The others are either fooled by your masks, or believe they can’t get past them. I’m not one of your team, though.’

He was staring at her. Now she could see the bags under his eyes, the stubble at his chin. Perhaps, she thought, Cassidy was right. He’d witnessed an atrocity in a place that had never known war. Perhaps the only place in human history that had never known war, settled after humanity had resolved their differences, then fiercely defended by the time the rest of the galaxy had come to take a piece. Perhaps this was too much.

‘You’re not one of my team,’ he echoed, and then the jester’s smile slid across his lips. ‘They’d try to bribe me with snacks. Let me grab a shower.’

Back in the Rookery, ten minutes later, he was in jeans and a t-shirt; casual, but not looking like he couldn’t possibly make an effort, even if he hadn’t shaved. ‘It was the Sinclair District they levelled,’ he said, and she noted he knew that without checking. She’d had to compare images of the skylines with their database; it was ten minutes’s work, but the exact sort of ten minutes his help could shave off. ‘Less-comfy suburbs.’

‘If they destroyed it,’ she said, ‘then they don’t need it.’

‘Not as much as they need to make a statement.’ She’d thought he was holding a PADD, only for him to crack open a can and have a swig of what she realised was some sugary energy drink. Hopefully from the replicator, its presentation more affectation and placebo. Then again, he was a Rook. Who knew what back alley he might have bought something out of.

‘They’ll have probably taken over government infrastructure,’ he pressed on after smacking his lips, and advanced on the holo-display to bring up a map of the city of Innes. ‘Which means they’re probably billeting all across Kobayi Street.’ He pressed on, explaining more of the city, making some further guesses, further contingencies.

It took another fifteen minutes before he said, more dryly, ‘Is this what we do now? Have long, soulful talks into the night about how screwed this mission is?’

‘I’m drawing on a native’s local knowledge,’ she said, not looking up from the PADD she consulted. ‘And, apparently, managing you better than your team.’

Rosewood was quiet for a moment. ‘Does anyone know how to manage this?’

‘Perhaps not. So I’m going to put you to work. Because even if it’s the wrong thing to do, you’ll be useful while it happens.’ And, she didn’t say, because it marginally spited Cassidy. His accusation she was using this operation as an escape route had rankled. Particularly because it contained a kernel of truth.

But the mission came first. It always did.

‘Ahh. You’re reaching out because you don’t care.’

‘Precisely.’ She ignored that his eyes were brighter, his voice stronger than when he’d answered the door. Perhaps it was the drink.

Her gaze landed on something. ‘Proxima’s comms system has a major spire in Innes.’

‘Yeah. When Innes was first settled, it was just a nearby hilltop. But Innes had a population in four figures back then. Not eight. City grew up around it.’

She reached for the map, focusing in on the comms facility that was now in a snarl of streets clambering up a hillside. Narrow. Twisting. Far from the clean, wide roads of the heart of Innes, where the Vaadwaur garrisoned. Her finger traced a route through the streets, before she reached to bring up the details of the comms system, how it interconnected.

‘Hm,’ said Ranicus after a minute. ‘Want to blow it up?’