‘Based on the latest analyses, not long. We may have less than six months before they arrive here in force. Most of the strategic analysts I’ve spoken to think the Shoal are preparing for a major retreat in order to bolster older, better-defended systems closer to the heart of their territory. That way they sacrifice us as well as a lot of their other client species, but stand a much better chance of either surviving the war with their culture intact, or more likely – judging by how it’s playing out so far – reaching some kind of détente.’

Corso shook his head and quietly swore under his breath. A tightness in his scalp heralded an oncoming migraine. ‘So exactly where was Dakota last time we heard from her?’ Her garbled warning had been forwarded to him on board the Kilminster less than twenty-four hours before.

‘Over here,’ came the answer. Another brightly coloured pinprick appeared far around the curve of the galaxy, between three and three and a half kiloparsecs distant – a little more than seventeen thousand light-years from Ocean’s Deep. The simulation of the galaxy rotated rapidly until the icon representing her last-known location was directly overhead, while the Consortium now hovered just underneath the ceiling.

‘As you can see,’ said Lamoureaux, ‘she’s gone a long, long way.’

‘Show me the coordinates Whitecloud dug up. Draw a line from here to there.’

Lamoureaux nodded, and a single pale line reached out from the Consortium towards a sparse stellar region not much more than a thousand light-years away.

Corso let out a sigh and stood, before walking around under the simulation and peering up. ‘All right,’ he said, reaching up with both hands and wiping them across his face as if he could scrub the fatigue away. ‘What do we have that’s ready to travel to Whitecloud’s coordinates and see what’s actually there?’

‘There are five Magi starships here in Ocean’s Deep, but the only currently available navigators were all supplied by the Legislate. That means I can’t guarantee any of them aren’t supplying information back to the Legislate security services.’

‘That’s all?’ Corso snapped, sounding scandalized. ‘What the hell about our own people?’

‘They’re all either out on relief missions or they’ve been hit by neural burnout. The way things are going, we’re going to need more of our own ships to be equipped with superluminal drives than we thought. But in terms of our present situation . . .’ Lamoureaux hesitated.

‘What?’

‘Even if a Magi ship was available, it’s going to have to tow a ship with enough room for an expeditionary crew. There aren’t any big enough, apart from the Mjollnir, and she already has her own superluminal drive. But, as you know, she’s being prepped for a relief expedition to Ascension.’

‘Really?’ Corso thought hard for a moment. ‘Put her up there, Ted.’