‘…Ranger’s port nacelle is still offline, and engineering reports structural stress through the secondary hull. She’ll need at least forty-eight hours for priority repairs.’

There were only five of them in the CIC, and as Rosewood listened to Valance’s summary of the state of the formation after the battle over Threshold, he thought he wasn’t sure why Rourke had requested him, too.

Then Cassidy grunted, ‘Did Yves shit herself and abandon people this time?’ and Rosewood realised why.

Valance’s gaze was cool as she regarded him. ‘The Ranger intercepted fighters heading for the Blackbird when you broke atmo. That’s when they sustained most of the damage. If she’d lost her nerve, you’d have known about it.’

‘Anyway,’ said Rosewood, aware this wasn’t the smoothest intervention, ‘the mission was a success all round.’

‘It was,’ conceded Commodore Rourke. He’d sat in silence as he listened, but knew a clumsy deflection when he saw it. ‘We’ll have the SCE work on Ranger. We’re going to need all hands on deck ASAP. Cal?’

At the main display, Harrian nodded and brought up fresh documents on the projector. ‘Your man Aryn hit the jackpot. We’ve not been able to get close enough to the aperture to begin to wonder where the local outpost is. But he managed to pull everything out of the database.’

Valance looked over. ‘We know where it is?’

‘We know everything.’ Harrian’s eyes lit up. ‘The navigation coordinates, yes, but more than that, this had transponder and clearance codes and schematics for the outpost.’ Behind him, images and plans scrolled across the display. ‘With these, we can get the right ship practically on top of the outpost, and the Vaadwaur wouldn’t even know it’s not theirs.’

Rosewood clicked his tongue. ‘The right ship means the Blackbird, doesn’t it.’

‘After all,’ grunted Cassidy, ‘once you get a ship close, someone’s still gotta do something. And let me guess, that’s gonna be easier from aboard than shooting out guns on the outside?’

‘This is all very preliminary,’ Harrian allowed. ‘But, in essence, yes.’

Rourke’s frown hadn’t vanished. ‘Stealth capabilities or no, transponders or no, we only have a limited idea of the location of the Underspace aperture in the Toliman system. And there’s no way the Blackbird can enter that aperture without drawing too much heat.’

‘Also, uh…’ Rosewood winced. ‘Surely the Vaadwaur are gonna figure we’ve got some of this info? There’s no way that clearance lasts.’

‘There’s no sign there’s a regular rotation of these codes,’ said Harrian, ‘which suggests that while the Vaadwaur might change it – we don’t know what they’ll presume we learnt from the wreckage – they don’t have the protocols in place to do so quickly. We have a little time.’

‘How much?’ said Rourke.

Now Harrian’s satisfaction faded. ‘Based on our SIGINT so far… maybe fifty hours. It could be more, if the Vaadwaur don’t see fit to change the clearance codes…’

‘But there’s a high risk that in a couple of days, this is all but worthless,’ surmised Cassidy. ‘Unless we want to fly our whole unit through the occupying force at Toliman, then engage a whole platform in pitched battle in Underspace, where they can summon reinforcements.’

‘Yes,’ said Harrian simply. ‘Which brings us to another problem.’ He turned and brought up a tactical map of Toliman. For weeks, they had relied on the limited readings of their long-range sensors, giving them only a hazy overview of the full Vaadwaur defensive stronghold. Now, the map lit up with more red enemy dots than Rosewood could even estimate a count of in the handful of seconds before the Bajoran pressed on.

‘There’s no way,’ said Harrian, ‘we have the forces to defeat the Vaadwaur at Toliman. We simply don’t have the firepower.’

Valance muttered something venomous before saying, ‘Which means our best bet is to bring the Blackout down, and summon reinforcements from Sol.’

‘Precisely.’

‘Which means,’ said Cassidy, voice taut, ‘me and my unit have to save everyone’s asses in less than two days.’

Rourke’s gaze sought him, guarded. ‘How’s your officer?’

Cassidy ground his teeth together. ‘She got shot covering my science officer while he was extracting this precious data. Not sure she’ll be boarding a Vaadwaur Blackout Outpost in two days.’

‘We can find you a stand-in operative,’ said Rourke.

‘Let’s see what plan we put together first,’ said Cassidy. ‘You never know, we might get blown up before we even make it into Underspace. Then my personnel ain’t the problem.’

Valance tapped her chin. ‘We can’t send you in alone.’

‘Send the entire squadron in the tunnel? That’s just asking for us to get crushed on all sides.’

‘No.’ She stood and advanced on the tactical display. ‘Sirius Squadron has to deploy. All of us, every ship that can fight, every officer that can fight. Engage the Vaadwaur forces at Toliman, give you cover for breaking into the aperture. And then give you time to take out that outpost.’

Rosewood’s jaw dropped. ‘That risks the entire squadron getting crushed.’

Harrian grimaced. ‘With more time, we could tip the scales further in our favour. I’ve been looking at backdoor access to orbital defences, considering insurgency options to undermine Vaadwaur Toliman operations…’

‘We don’t have time,’ Valance pointed out, and turned to Rourke. ‘The Blackout comes down, and the First Fleet is here inside hours. Perhaps we’re all still alive then. Perhaps we’re not. But that’s the occupation of Alpha Centauri over.’

Rourke didn’t answer for a beat, and Cassidy stood up.

‘Sounds like you’ve got some planning to do,’ he said, hands on hips. ‘Let me and mine worry about how we’re taking this outpost down.’

Rourke exchanged a look with Harrian, then nodded. ‘Get a plan on the commander’s desk by 0900.’

‘Yes, sir.’ It was the crispest address Rosewood had ever heard of Cassidy, and both Rooks turned for the door. The effect was ruined, however, by Cassidy wavering for a moment, and as Rosewood squinted in uncertainty, he turned back. ‘Sir. The Liberty. Is she going to be fit to deploy?’

Rourke blew out his cheeks. ‘If it’s all hands on deck. Captain Galcyon’s been cleared by medical staff.’

For a moment, Cassidy looked uncertain. Smaller. Then he nodded. ‘Good,’ he said at last. ‘We need every ship we can get.’

On another day, Rosewood might have said something as they left the CIC, headed for the transporter room to beam back aboard Blackbird. Today, the thought of needling or even investigating felt like the behaviour of somebody else. Someone who had less pressing concerns on their mind.

Instead, once they were in the turbolift, Rosewood said, ‘I’ll work with Ranicus. Go over the intel, figure our angle of attack.’

‘We can do that,’ said Cassidy, brow furrowed.

‘I thought you’d want to do some vetting. If we need a temporary Rook Five.’

Cassidy paused. ‘We’ve operated with four before. Did so for a bit before you came along. Or we bring in Jakorr.’

‘Sure. There are options.’ Rosewood shook his head. ‘Whatever you think is best.’

The halls of the Blackbird felt more dim than ever when they set foot back aboard. Wordless, the two men headed down to the Rookery, the beating heart of all operations. So often, it had served as an escape from the perils raging beyond the ship’s hull. Here, in Alpha Centauri, it had been the brain stem, a place where the challenges of war were confronted, weighed, and planned against.

So it was little surprise to see Aryn in there. Already, he had the data from the Blackout Outpost splayed before him on the holographic projector as he stood with arms folded, watching, reading, motionless.

Cassidy paused to see him. ‘Four.’

‘Are we hitting it?’ Aryn didn’t turn.

‘Yeah. Soon as possible. Before the Vaadwaur change the locks.’ Cassidy looked between them, then shrugged at Rosewood. ‘I’ll start vetting.’

Rosewood swallowed hard as Cassidy left, and stared at the back of Aryn’s head. ‘How’s Q’ira?’

‘Alive.’ Aryn’s voice was clipped, distant. ‘You’re lucky.’

‘I’m lucky…?’

You should have been there. Both of you.’ Aryn still didn’t turn. ‘Instead, you ran off on the same half-baked mission of vengeance you’ve been on for months.’

Rosewood stared at that. ‘Months?’

Now Aryn turned, expression flat. ‘Since Tiran. Since the Changeling. We didn’t get justice for Tiran, vengeance for Tiran. We had to let Liberty bring the Changeling down. There was no closure then, and that means letting Drehm go became even more unthinkable, didn’t it?’

Shame and fury coiled together, indignation burning in Rosewood’s chest at the accusation he’d been that thoughtless, that blinded. Shame, because Drehm had been nothing but smoke and mirrors, a mask the Vaadwaur had worn he’d been seduced into making a bigger enemy than it was. He swallowed hard. ‘We shouldn’t have left the team,’ he allowed, words careful, deliberate. ‘But this had nothing to do with the Changeling.’

‘I don’t -’ Aryn started, then stopped, frustration leaking into his cold judgement. ‘I expect some of this from Cassidy. He’s a soldier, he’s always had his eye on the mission, and he made the mission Drehm. Weeks ago. I thought you were clearer-eyed than this, John.’

‘I said I was wrong.’

‘No, you said you were wrong on Threshold. Were you wrong on Innes?’ Aryn tilted his head a half-inch. ‘Were you wrong at Oltanis IV? With Kanem?’

Rosewood’s blood went cold at the mention of Kanem, the owner of the xB chop shop. The Rooks had raided the facility months ago. Kanem had not survived the encounter. ‘I didn’t think you’d cry about Kanem.’

‘That is a deflection,’ said Aryn, raising a sharp finger, eyes flashing. ‘And one I’ll thank you to drop before you attempt the play I know you’re about to play. I’ve tried to overlook your… your fixation on vengeance for weeks. I’ve tried to advise you other routes for weeks. You’ve ignored me. When we’re aboard the outpost, will you ignore me, then?’

‘Drehm is dead,’ Rosewood pointed out. ‘And destroying the outpost ends the Blackout. What could possibly distract me from that end goal?’

‘I honestly don’t know.’

‘You don’t!’ Indignation coiled tighter. ‘Because you’re not actually concerned about my capacity to do the job, you’re angry at me because Q’ira got hurt!’

Aryn’s nostrils flared. ‘And why shouldn’t I be? If you and Cassidy hadn’t left -’

It might have happened anyway, Rosewood thought, but he knew it was a meagre defence. So he took the path that was always clearest to him when he had no defence: go on the offensive. ‘You accuse me of not being clear-eyed, Mac, but you’re the one who might do with remembering who his girlfriend is.’

‘I don’t – she’s a Rook, she’s part of the team!’ However true Rosewood knew Aryn’s argument was, the flustered aggravation made it clear his blow had landed true. Then Aryn straightened, and snapped, ‘I need to be sure your head is in this mission, John. And that you’re not distracted by the fact you can hurt the Vaadwaur for hurting your homeworld the way you could never hurt the people who killed your father!’

It was like someone had sucked the air out of the room. Rosewood stared, and as the fury left Aryn with the words, the science officer was left gawping, realising what he’d said, realising its magnitude.

After a long time, Rosewood swallowed. ‘Figure out how, once we’re aboard, we destroy the outpost.’ His voice came low, neutral, controlled. Because it was that or he’d lash out even harder.

Aryn averted his gaze and gave an awkward nod. ‘It’ll be at the tetryon pulse manifold,’ he stammered. ‘I need to assess where exactly -’

‘Assess it. In your quarters, Lieutenant.’ Rosewood pushed past him to advance on the main display. ‘I have an infiltration to plan.’

There was neither words nor movement for a long moment. At last, Aryn croaked, ‘John -’

‘We’re friends, Mac,’ said Rosewood coldly. ‘Go do your job and we keep it that way.’

Aryn did leave, and the ice in Rosewood’s gut softened with quiet relief. Not because he hadn’t wanted to keep arguing about who was wrong. But because Aryn had been far, far too right.