“They are very powerful, Admiral,” Milla said. “A short blast could easily destroy one of your cities, unless I am very wrong about their construction. An extended beam could dig deep enough to trigger very many ugly happenings.”

Gracen considered the information, then grimaced. She had to admit that she wasn’t enough of a geologist to know what a beam coring through the mantle might do, but it didn’t sound like a good idea. Hell, if one struck an oil, natural gas, or coal pocket, the damage it caused could be significant and ongoing.

Even so, she thought it might be a risk they may have to take.

“I want you to prepare firing patterns for orbital bombardment. Lasers can’t be much worse than the nukes they’ve already authorized down there, and this is a problem we can’t just ignore and hope will go away,” Gracen ordered. “Make it as safe as you can, but no Drasin is to survive a strike. Can you do this?”

Milla paled slightly, but nodded slowly. “Yes, Admiral, I can do this.”

“Good. Make it happen.”

Gracen walked away, leaving a shaken but determined Milla in her wake. The Priminae officer began to enter the new directive into her board, making adjustments to the laser focal points as she tried to balance the weapon system between the two conflicting requirements of total annihilation for the enemy and relative security for the world. It would not be an easy job.

The enemy arrived, and the Drasin waited.

The enemy assaulted the force overseeing the target world, and the Drasin waited.

The enemy, in something so shocking that there were no adopted plans for the event, totally annihilated an assault force sufficient to take on a small fleet . . . and yet the Drasin waited. They waited and watched, all sensory tracks monitoring the outer system, watching for inbound reinforcements.

Nothing appeared, and it both confounded and disturbed the watchers.

Not only were no reinforcements forthcoming, but they hadn’t been able to detect the ones that had already arrived. It meant that there was a very real risk in springing the trap that had been set, because it could so easily be turned on the watchers.

In the end, however, there was no choice, and the trap that had been set must be sprung. The order went out, across the swarm cloud, and the Black came alive once more.

Captain Carrow was just stepping back onto the bridge when the alarms went off. He quickened his pace until he dropped into the command station, then looked across his domain with a tired but determined eye.

“Talk to me.”

“We’re getting movement on several tracks we believed to be part of the Jovian Trojan rocks, sir.”

Carrow grimaced. “No chance that it’s natural?”

“No sir, definitely movement under power. It’s more of the Drasin, Captain.”

“Damn it,” Carrow cursed.