Barron felt a burning in his gut, a tension he knew was caused by the unknown. He’d been fully aware of the danger his people had faced on the Union border, but now he had no idea what lay ahead. The distress call had been vague…and the patrol ship sending it had not been heard from since. Barron was enough of a realist to know what that likely meant. But what hostile force was out there? Was it some kind of Union trick? That was his first suspicion, of course, but he had no idea how Union warships could possibly have reached the Rim. The entire Confederation lay between the two.

But what else could it be? Some kind of criminal traffic? He hoped that was it. Whatever pilots and smugglers were out on the frontier plying their trades, he was sure none could stand up to a front line battleship like Dauntless. But he didn’t believe he’d been sent to chase pirates, not for a second. And that meant it was a foreign power…one or more of the Unaligned Worlds. Or the Alliance…

He didn’t know much about the Alliance. The Confederation had no direct links to the shadowy power. A trickle of trade flowed back and forth through intermediaries in the Unaligned Worlds, along with a few nuggets of information, likely mixed at least 50/50 with rumor.

It has to be the Alliance. None of the Unaligned Worlds would dare to attack the Confederation…but then neither would the Alliance…

Or would they? If Dauntless hadn’t been sent to Archellia to refit, there wouldn’t have been a warship worth the name within ten systems. What little he’d heard of the Alliance suggested it was extremely aggressive, that it had long preyed on its neighbors. The Confederation had sent aid packages to some of the Unaligned Worlds, to systems ravaged by war.

But they’re far from the border, more than half a dozen systems. Too far to mount a real invasion. At least without…

Barron leaned down over his workstation, his hands darting to his keyboard, as vague recollection flooded into his mind. He punched at the keys, bringing up a map of the sector.

Wheel Nebula…Harah…Jankau…Santis…

Santis…

He moved his fingers over toward the small sphere representing the star Krillus. The screen displayed a close-up of the system…and its only inhabited planet. Santis.

His eyes narrowed, focused on the text to the side of the planetary display.

Tritium…

The planet was a major tritium production center. It was almost uninhabited, just a handful of technicians working the mostly-automated tritium refinery. And a single platoon of Marines as garrison.

Could it be? Could the Alliance be moving against us? Making a move toward Santis? Control of a refueling site might—just might—make an invasion feasible.

You’re making assumptions on wild guesses now…