A low shudder passed through the deck plates as a small beacon launched from the forward hull of the Odyssey. It arced away from the ship, circling the debris field that had formed in the wake of the battle. Locking into position, the beacon began to broadcast its message, a log of Flare’s accomplishments, from her first solo flight in the Archangels to the final run that saved her ship from destruction. A small ion engine came online and locked the beacon into place. The debris may drift, but the beacon would ensure that anyone who cared to hear it would remember the sacrifice that marked that spot forever in the annals of the Archangels.

CHAPTER 18

THERE WAS AN aura of palpable frustration between the people in the captain’s office.

“We cannot tell you that, Capitain,” Saraf said firmly, shaking her head. “I am sorry, but it is not done.”

“Titualar…” Weston paused, wrapping his tongue around the unfamiliar word. “I don’t believe that you understand the situation I’m in at the moment.”

“No, Capitain. I most certainly do not, nor must I,” the woman said, with a wave of her hand. “We cannot give you the coordinates to one of our central worlds. It is not possible.”

Weston nodded. “Very well. Then I have no choice but to set a course for home. I’ll make certain that your people are well received, and we’ll try to arrange some kind of return to your worlds, but it will most likely be some time.”

“What?” Both she and Milla paled.

“I simply can’t justify spending any more time out here,” Weston said, clasping his hands in front of him as he settled onto his desk. “Not with the situation escalating like this. We lost a pilot today and several multimillion-dollar fighters. More than that, we discovered alien life that tried to kill us.” He shook his head. “No, I’m afraid that I can’t risk this ship or the people and information it carries without something to leverage against the risk.”

“What leverage?” Milla asked softly. “What is it you hope to accomplish?”

Weston shifted his attention to her. “One of your central worlds, as you say, will have the authority to send a diplomat back with us. Someone who our government can talk with, someone who can perhaps make deals.”

“Deals?” Milla blinked.

“He means negotiating for our technology,” Saraf muttered.

Weston shrugged. “There is that. There is also the possibility of you receiving some of our technology. There is mutual defense. Though, to be honest, I wouldn’t expect that for a while.”

“Why not?” Saraf asked, with a wry twist to her mouth and tone.

“Because our military power at this time isn’t prepared to project past our solar system,” Weston answered her, despite Roberts stiffening behind him. “The point is, the only way we can remain out here any longer is to bring back someone who can speak with authority. And that means going to the source.”