Chekov thought that over. “I hope you’re right, Captain. This is a beautiful system. I’d hate to see it fall back into war.”

“I don’t think there’s any risk of that. The Altairians are a proud, contentious people, but they’re better off now than they were during the wars, and they know it.”

The science officer frowned. “I just wish we could be equally sure that these vacuum flares won’t be a problem. Two of them in close succession, less than ninety light-years apart…” He shook his head. “They may not have been an Altair VI weapons test, but what if there is some artificial cause behind them? Some alien force making it happen?”

“To what end?” Terrell asked. “So far they’ve both happened in open space. The flare at Argelius only damaged a few nearby ships, and that was in a crowded spacelane. This happened in an empty part of the system, millions of kilometers from anything, and would’ve been totally harmless if not for the political tensions. If you’re suggesting these are some kind of attacks, then their aim is so bad that we may have nothing to worry about.”

“Unless they’re still trying to find their range.”

Terrell shook his head. “It isn’t even that destructive. A photon torpedo barrage would do far worse. I still think it’s more likely that this is a natural phenomenon. Maybe some kind of… storm moving through subspace, occasionally surfacing. Maybe it popped up between systems too, but nobody was around to notice it. If there are more of these, we’ll soon find out if they’re following any kind of path.”

“We should notify Starfleet Command. Advise all vessels to scan for these signatures.”

“I’ll do that. In the meantime, let’s continue forward on the vector it would have followed from Argelius to here. Maybe we can pick up some trace of whatever it is.”

Chekov gave him a rueful look. “So no shore leave this time?”

Terrell grimaced. “I never did develop a taste for Altair water.”

Chapter Three

Arcturus IV

Horatio stood proudly at attention alongside his fellow Warborn. They were a small cohort, only a dozen strong—one of the smallest gatherings of his kind that Horatio had ever experienced in his two years of conscious existence. Yet as Commander Rakatheema of Starfleet stood before them and gave his address, the natural-born Arcturian spoke of their small number as a victory in itself.