Within a day, one of the Plumas crew ships would pick him up. The engines continued to blast away, nudging the giant ice mountain. Jess had plenty of time to think. He had no regrets, no reservations. He could not turn back. This was something he had to do.

He didn’t care what the Big Goose or the Eddies might think. No doubt, even some Roamers might be infuriated at his provocative act, but most would cheer that he had actually done something. He didn’t know if Cesca would be disappointed in him, or if she would applaud his actions. He would stand firm, either way, knowing his obligations. It wasn’t as if diplomacy had been effective. The enemy had offered no communication whatsoever.

He looked through his cockpit window and saw the giant planet below him, much closer now, a bright spotlight like a bull’s-eye.

Before he suited up to go wait for the pickup ship, Jess removed the embroidered shoulder covering that bore his name along with Ross’s and Tasia’s. He laid it gently in the captain’s chair, then went to the suit locker and made ready to depart.

He did not once look back or reconsider what he was doing.

With his own ship anchored to the comet and its heavy stardrive engines blazing, adding inexorable force in a vector against the routine pull of gravity, Jess climbed aboard Caleb’s pickup vessel that had arrived for him. They joined the other Roamer ships on their way out of the system.

Jess scanned the eighteen mountains of ice that had already begun their descent. Once he made certain that each one of the comet bombs was on course, he sank back into his padded chair and gave orders for his team to depart.

The die was cast.

90: BRANSON ROBERTS

90BRANSON ROBERTS

Some job this had turned out to be. Branson Roberts hated piloting the only human ship in an isolated godforsaken system, especially in a place where the destructive aliens were bound to be hiding. But he had his orders. Even worse, he had no choice. General Lanyan had made sure of that.

At least the EDF had given Roberts back his own ship, the Blind Faith, and it was good to be sitting at the old girl’s controls again. The cockpit felt like home, felt like normal—except for all the modified systems, pumped-up engines, and heavy armor the EDF had installed on the ship. That had seemed like adding insult to injury.

Still, when he dropped into the Dasra system hunting alien bogeymen, Roberts was glad that no one but himself held the controls. He and the Blind Faith had been through a lot together.