“It is…or so I believe.” Tanner’s lips twisted. “It is difficult to say, of course, as I have yet to see her face.”

Milla’s eyes widened under her helm, and she uttered a shocked “ohh.”

She immediately started fumbling with the controls until she located the shield that Brinks had shown her before and activated the control.

“Sorry,” she told them, her faceplate shimmering from a flat, opaque black to a transparent form backlit by internal lights. “I require the helmet to communicate with the others, however.”

Tanner nodded, and Nero just gazed evenly at her.

“Nero, the ithan tells me that the Drasin are digging tunnels under the Corinth landing site,” Tanner said.

“Corinth?” Nero frowned. “That was a crash. Nothing could have survived.”

“I’m aware of that. However, I believe that we may want to check, just the same.”

The big man nodded gruffly. “Agreed. I’ll correct the oversight.”

“I’m certain you will,” Tanner said confidently. “However, if what our…friends are saying is true, we may have a serious situation developing.”

“Agreed,” Nero said.

“Their scans indicate that there are over two hundred Drasin in those tunnels at the moment, Admiral,” Milla said. “They have ordered two assault drones from the Odyssey with weapons they believe might be able to eliminate the Drasin.”

“Then act quickly,” Nero intoned, his voice not giving any indication of his opinions of that speed.

“Indeed,” Tanner nodded. “Let us act as quickly.”

“Agreed,” Nero replied, then turned away without another word.

“Now, Ithan,” Tanner said, looking up at Milla without any hint of discomfort in having to look so far up to meet her eyes. “I believe that you and I should have a conversation that includes the captain of the Odyssey?”

Milla nodded at once. “Yes, Admiral.”

CHAPTER 27

“CAPTAIN…WESTON, I presume?”

The translation came through clear enough, though the computer seemed to hitch up on the last word, and for a moment, Weston could have sworn that it was going to go with the clichéd “Doctor Livingston, I presume?” rather than what he hoped was the more accurate translation.

Weston pushed the trivial thought from his mind, though he knew that, unlike himself, the other man couldn’t see whom he was talking to. “That’s correct. You’re Admiral Tanner?”

“That is correct.” The slimly built man looked out of the screen with every appearance of examining the auxiliary bridge where Weston had taken the transmission.

He wasn’t, of course, seeing the bridge. Rather, what Admiral Tanner was looking at was Miss Chans’s face while her suit systems transmitted his image to Weston. The reverse wasn’t possible, of course, but Weston was able to speak out of the suit speaker system so that they could hold something that at least resembled a coherent conversation.

Admiral Tanner was an unassuming man, Weston noted, the type that you would probably overlook if you saw him on the street. His uniform seemed oddly rudimentary, more like work clothes than something any Terran admiral would wear, but it was spotless and well kept.