She reached out and braced herself against the console, keeping herself from pitching forward. Great Creator! There were…over twenty million people here just…just a day ago.

“Take us in,” Tal ordered, his voice steady now. “I want to see it with my own eyes.”

“Aye, sir.”

The Carlache flew into the system, sliding to a halt in the high orbital range of the sea-green planet.

“Optics,” Tal called, “show me the capital.”

The system capital was the only city worthy of the name on the entire planet, housing 90 percent of the planet’s population while managing the processing, administration, transport, and various other nongrowing aspects of the world economy.

When it appeared on the screen, it looked like a ghost town.

The streets were empty, miles of ancient stonework broken up by massive buildings that towered over the terrain. It was heartrending.

“Hey…Something moved!” someone shouted. Milla didn’t know who. She was too busy looking for the motions.

Something had moved. Something that was staying very close to the shadows.

“Grid three-twelve,” Tal snapped. “Enlarge and enhance.”

The computer responded and the bridge was silent as they stared at the face of nightmares.

The seconds stretched into minutes, until the captain managed to speak without a strangled voice, an accomplishment that Milla admired. “Database, search. Classify life-form.”

When there was no response, Tal turned in his seat. “Now!”

The crewwoman at the terminal shook herself and quickly entered the request into the computer. It took only a few seconds before the computer spit back the answer that everyone already knew was coming.

“I…It fits the parameters of a Drasin soldier, Captain.”

Tal nodded, accepting the confirmation. He already knew it was the Drasin and had only asked so that it would be entered on the permanent log. “All right. We need to—”

He was cut off when Milla’s station chirped a warning as it completed a complex algorithm.

Milla heard a sob from one of the rear stations but forced herself to focus on the information pouring in. “Captain, the energy-decay readings indicate that this was just done a few hours ago. They could still be here.”

“Full alert. All personnel to”—she heard the brief pause and the bitter sound in his voice—“battle stations.”

The bridge erupted into fervor as the ship’s recorders were examining every square meter of the surrounding system. It wasn’t long before they found what they were looking for.

“Captain, there is a fading energy trail leading out of the system. Looks like it’s on course for the Deserada System, sir.”

“Lay in a pursuit course! Communications, start calling in all available cruisers. We need to stop them before they strike again.”

A chorus of “yes, sir” echoed across the bridge as the ship accelerated into trans-luminary speeds in pursuit.

For two days, the Carlache pursued the decaying trail, gathering ships from surrounding sectors and drilling their crews in the unfamiliar techniques of battle. On the third day, the Carlache found what they had been searching for and dreading.