“We are where we are,” I said. “Let’s learn what we can.”

He went to the controls and, muttering Warrior curses, pure and sweet to our ears, began to slam and cajole the controls, until the balky old hulk grudgingly did its best to respond. The direct view panels opened and we looked across the full expanse of Uthera.

“Not good,” Sharp said.

Slowly, an old ancilla struggled to revive, appearing first as a spinning disk, then as a headless torso with floating, staring eyes. “Pardon me,” it said. “I am designed to represent the combined intelligence of four vessels. I will respond only to a flotilla commander.”

“A flotilla sub-metarch is common,” Sharp explained in a weary undertone. “None of these ships had the resources to fight alone.”

“None of our other ships are responsive,” the ancilla said. “I am no longer functional. I am merely an incomplete residue—”

“Obviously,” I said. “Never mind that. What can this ship do?”

After an unpleasant interval, during which various portions of the ancilla’s anatomy reappeared, only to disappear again, the residue did its best to diagnose our situation. “We cannot leave the system. This ship cannot formulate a slipspace jump—the necessary components are far too worn, and besides, there is no longer any means to establish a legitimate request.”

“We could ignore protocol,” Sharp muttered.

The fragmented ancilla continued, “There are no local portals. All have apparently been withdrawn. I am only partially aware of this system’s status, but it appears that fifteen nearby suns and their attendant worlds have been quarantined. Perhaps years ago. This much can be recovered from ship’s history.”

“Check on the other two bubbles,” I murmured to Sharp. “Maybe they can tell us something … if they survive release.”

He agreed. Before he entered the transit tube, he looked back at me and said, “I may have some of the attributes of a Builder, but I renounce them. I would like to return to being a Warrior-Servant … in your thoughts, at least.”

“So observed,” I said.

“Thank you, Commander.” He vanished into the tube.

At least we knew where we stood with each other. A better way to die.

I focused my full attention on learning what the ancilla might still be capable of. It was reluctant to test the ship’s scanning capabilities. “I am not attuned to direct control of this vessel,” it said. “Anything I attempt may damage it.”

Uthera seemed unchanged from the last time I had visited this system, but without enhanced sensory input, there was no way I could learn more.

“I’m willing to take that risk,” I said.

“Yes, but I do not have you in memory as an authorized commander.”

“Then locate the commander,” I suggested.

“That will require activating ship’s internal and external sensors. And that may damage our systems. We seem to be at a stalemate.”