Protesting had done the fleet no good, since Governor Oma had sent what amounted to a pacification force. Tennal himself hadn’t been the point of it, but once the Archer troops poured on board and the mess turned hostile, all he’d had to do was say, Tennalhin Halkana—I spoke to your boss, to the nearest officer, and he’d been waved to a shuttle and treated like a guest. He’d passed out from exhaustion soon after. He didn’t know where Surit was.

He should’ve been happy. The whole expedition to chaotic space had been a clusterfuck. Tennal had survived his first mission; now he was, presumably, a free agent on Archer Link Station, under a governor who was sympathetic, and all his previous commanding officers were in detention. Maybe he could get in touch with Zin, make sure she was safe, then slip onto a link-bound ship and escape to the wider galaxy. Maybe today.

“This whole thing,” Tennal said out loud, “is a Lights-lost mess.”

His wristband flickered at the sound of his voice. After the poky sleeping quarters on the Fractal Note, this airy, high-ceilinged apartment was a luxury. Thin windows set high in the wall obviously led to the station’s hydroponics facilities, doubling as scenery for high-status residents. The early morning sunlight effects were subtle. Guidances only knew why they’d given this place to Tennal.

Tennal sat on the bed, which had enough room around it that he could have driven a crawler from one side to the other, and drank a fresh cup of coffee that someone else had programmed last night. The one-way glass wall opposite looked out over the interior of the station.

The lower discs of Archer Link Station held docking rings and life-support systems, but the top level was occupied by a permanent residential city. It was covered by a series of soaring environmental domes that provided a blue and hazy artificial sky, kilometers across and hundreds of meters high. Into the domes rose silver towers connected by a web of clear walkways. The city below them was low and compact.

What gave Tennal a jolt were the golden Archer banners hung from every official-looking building: not Archer-sponsored teams or businesses, but the unadorned emblem of the division itself. This was a civilian city. Even Exana, which was a hotbed of division influence, kept the military symbols out of most public streets.

Tennal stared blankly at the banners flapping in a gentle breeze that came from the domes’ hazy sky. His first priority was to somehow get a message to Zin. His second priority was to find out where Surit had gone. He opened his wristband to connect to the station network.

A light-screen flashed in front of his face, hovering at eye level. It said: OUTBOUND COMMUNICATIONS BLOCKED. EMERGENCY ONLY.

The universe of possibility narrowed very quickly. Tennal’s mouth curled into a slow, unlovely smile.