Admiral Stromo’s voice echoed through the hall, adding unnecessary commentary. “The skymine captain—a woman—sounded an immediate evacuation, and numerous scout ships attempted to escape. The captain ejected her cargo of ekti, but the invaders showed no interest in it.”

As the recruits watched, the disengaged cargo hold full of stardrive fuel tumbled away from the skymine and plunged into the ocean of colored gases. “The Roamers repeatedly tried to surrender, but the aliens refused to respond. They just… attacked.”

Shareen Pasternak—now Tasia remembered the woman’s name. The Welyr Chief had met sometimes with Ross. Now they were both victims of the new enemies.

Stromo fell silent again while in the image the habitation dome detached from the skymine. Tasia knew that such an action would have been the Chief’s absolute last resort, a decision no Roamer captain would make unless she was convinced all hope was gone.

“Observe. Even when the skymine captain tried to evacuate her crew, the aliens came after her. Intentionally and maliciously.”

In the projected images, the predatory crystalline spheres blasted the habitation module into molten shrapnel… and then returned without hurry to chop up the rest of the cloud-harvesting facility, leaving the debris to tumble down into the clouds. All hands lost. Tasia swallowed hard, driving down the anger and impatience to do something. She hated just sitting here on Mars.

“Several of the Roamer scout ships remained aloft for a week, trying to survive in the upper atmosphere of Welyr,” Stromo finally said. “Those vessels recorded the images you just saw, but they did not have sufficient life-support resources or long-range capabilities. When rescue finally arrived, there were no survivors aboard.”

Robb Brindle looked at Tasia, knowing the pain she felt. He reached out to squeeze her hand, but she barely felt it. Her fingers were ice-cold.

The images stopped. “That is all,” Stromo said. “Raw data, with no conclusions. Our experts are studying these recordings and will give you further intelligence as it arrives.”

The light on the stage faded, and the Admiral said, “Dismissed.”

Tasia barely said a word as they filed back toward their barracks. Robb Brindle walked beside her in silence, giving his quiet support. She hoped he understood how much she appreciated it. By now he knew better than to try and cheer her up or engage her in innocuous conversation.

As they entered the communal room near the lockers and sleeping quarters, Patrick Fitzpatrick pointedly looked at Tasia and turned away, raising his voice to his companions. “Hey, at least it was only Roachers who got killed.” He reveled in his callous wisecrack. “Next time, though, it might be real people.”

Tasia bristled. Robb stepped in front of her and glowered at the young man. “Hey, vacuum brain—maybe you missed the briefing where they told us who the real enemy is.”