As some of the field-generators were finally overwhelmed, scouts began to whip in towards the frigate’s hull, their blades and cutting implements slicing through the thick armoured plates. The Meridian drones were meanwhile dying, overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of the scouts.

Dakota watched it all with a growing sense of frustration and panic. The scouts were attacking the Mjollnir because of herself, specifically because of whatever it was Moss had put inside her.

It was time for something drastic.

A minute or two later she sensed Lamoureaux entering the bridge. Indecision froze her for a moment, then she forced herself to stand, the chair’s petals folding back around the base of the dais in response.

Martinez was still on the bridge, crouching over a console, talking to Perez over a comms link. He was paying no attention to either Ted or Dakota.

She stepped down and seized Lamoureaux by the arm, as he approached her, pulling him instead towards the exit. Her voice was just above a whisper as she spoke.

‘I need your help, Ted. Things just went from bad to worse.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Take a look,’ she said, transferring the neutrino flux data to him via a link.

His eyes became momentarily unfocused, and his jaw flopped open. ‘How long have we got?’ he exclaimed, once he had recovered.

‘Quiet!’ she hissed, nodding towards Martinez, but the Commander was still talking to Perez, still oblivious to the pair of them. ‘We’ve got maybe twelve hours maximum before this whole system goes up.’

Ted looked befuddled, glancing quickly at Martinez and then back again. ‘And you want to keep this a secret?’

‘No, just . . . wait for twenty minutes before telling them.’

He eyed her with increasing suspicion. ‘Dakota, what the hell are you up to?’

‘Here.’ She linked with him again and transferred over the command structure for the Meridian drones. ‘You can handle them just as well as I can.’

Over Lamoureaux’s shoulder, she saw Martinez glance up and study them for a few seconds, then look away again.

She nodded silently towards the passageway outside the bridge. He picked up the hint and followed her.

‘Take the chair and run the drones for me,’ she told him once they were outside.

‘Why can’t you do it yourself?’

The ship’s data-space informed her that Corso and Perez were on their way back from the hold. One of the landers was hooked up to an airlock and ready for launch.

‘Do you remember what I said earlier, that there was something on board this ship that was leading the Emissaries straight towards us?’

He nodded.