attack."
Carruthers's eyebrows went higher. "An attack? By who?"
The word "aliens" hung in the air between them. Instead, Hammett said, "It's a big galaxy, and we've explored, what? A tenth of one percent of it?"
"Less than that," Carruthers said. "Spacecom must be sending someone to take a look."
"I'm sure they are," Hammett said. "They'll send a corvette, when they can spare it from all those terribly important customs duties." He scowled. "What if it's an invasion, Jim? That's a job for a warship, and we're the only warship left."
We're a broken-down warship that hasn't had proper maintenance in a decade, armed with a lot of decaying missiles, and crewed by cadets. He didn't put the thought into words. He just looked at Carruthers, who said, "It's probably just mechanical failures, Captain."
"Probably," Hammett agreed.
"Well, if it isn't," Carruthers said, "I guess we'll have an interesting flight."
Chapter 9 – Kasim
When the Alexander was ten minutes from Gate Five, Kasim climbed into a shuttle and turned on the cockpit controls. He wanted to know the exact moment they popped through the wormhole. He didn't believe the rumors that were floating around about rogue colonies rising up, or aliens sweeping in from the deep dark. It was absurd.
Still, if something strange was going on, he didn't want to miss it.
The shuttle itself was blind while sitting in the landing bay, but it connected automatically to the Alexander's scanners. He watched the Gate loom larger and larger, then braced himself when the screens flickered. A moment later he saw the Deirdre system, majestic, serene, and utterly boring, splashed across the shuttle's displays.
An icon glowed green in the corner of his screen, and he touched it. It was a transponder signal from Freedom Station. There were no flags, no alerts. All was normal in the Deirdre system.
"I suppose I shouldn't feel disappointed," he murmured. Still …
Feet clomped on the entrance ramp. "Lieutenant? Are you on board?"
"I'm here, Doc." He looked back over his shoulder as a trio of technicians filed into the shuttle.
Roberts, a sour-faced old geezer who looked as if he wanted to be home telling kids to get off his lawn, dropped into a seat and said, "Let's get this over with. We're supposed to be headed back to Earth already."
Behind him Sally MacKinnon met Kasim's gaze, rolled her eyes, and grinned. He grinned back. He liked Sally. She stayed cheerful no matter what got thrown at her.
The third technician, a young man named Sanchez, was already buckling himself in, eyes squeezed shut. Sanchez was a very poor flyer. Everything about space travel seemed to terrify him. Kasim was perpetually torn between the urge to fly as gently as possible and an unkind impulse to try a few stunts, just to wind the guy up.
"Welcome aboard once again," Kasim said. It was barely twenty minutes since the trio had left the shuttle. So far every Gate inspection had turned up nothing at all. "Maybe this is the trip where you figure out what's been going on."
"Just get on with it," Roberts said.
"Thank you," Sally added. "We appreciate your help." That earned her a sour glance from Roberts, which she ignored.
The bay doors slid open and Kasim took the shuttle out, slow and gentle. He wouldn't be back behind the controls again until they got back to Earth, and he wanted to savor the experience of flying free in a new system.
He took them along the underside of the Alexander , the belly of the ship like a steel sky above them. Laser turrets bristled like thunderheads, and a parabolic dish gleamed like a glimpse of sunlight through clouds.
They passed the bow of the ship. A fat yellow star hung off to the right. He squinted in the direction of Freedom Station, but couldn't make it out. There was nothing else to see. Deirdre had only one planet, a cold lump of rock half a light-year from the star. Human activity in the system centered around the station, a deep-space oasis with a few