“I’m so ready,” Mitzi said, pulling the harness over her shoulders and locking it into place. “Your little mind isn’t even able to comprehend how ready I am.”

“Good.”

The ship started to rattle as it reached the atmosphere, where bright light enveloped them.

Nic pressed a button to close the windows, and with the ship on autopilot, he settled back into his seat. “You might want to share some of that readiness around. Your new crew isn’t looking so hot.”

In the excitement of getting to the station, Mitzi had completely forgotten that she was supposed to have a team under her command. “Oh, yeah? What’re they like?”

“I didn’t get to talk to them, but I watched them board from my window. You’ve got six. I’d be surprised if half of them have been off the planet before. They all look terrified.”

“Hmm. Terrified is better than cocky. I thought I was supposed to have a full set, though.”

A full set meant a team of eleven under a commander.

“Yeah, you were, but only six showed up. It’s not unusual. In the chaos, Central’s records are going to hell, and they have no manpower to chase down people who skirt their duties. It’s the easiest thing in the world to just not show up for your summons.”

“People aren’t worried Central will catch up to them after this whole mess is sorted?”

“Sure, but what’s the worst Central’s going to do? Fine them? Most people are quite happy to take their chances with a slap on the wrist instead of, you know, taking a job that will dice their life expectancy in half.”

The ship stopped shaking as it left the atmosphere, and Nic recalled the blinds. Space, vast and terrifying, stretched out ahead of them, full of possibilities. Shivers ran down Mitzi’s spine and into her toes as she surveyed the countless stars, each one a shepherd of its planets, its planets’ moons, and its own collection of asteroids.

Humans, the dominant lifeform in the known parts of space, had set up more than two thousand stations on a range of planets and moons stretching for forty square light-years. But the farther humanity probed into the inky blackness, the more clear it became that they’d only touched the smallest fragment of sand in the universe’s beach. The Cymic Parasites were proof of that; after hundreds of years of space exploration, most people had come to believe they were reasonably secure. Then, in the space of a few weeks, up to a third of those two thousand stations had been consumed by an enemy humans still didn’t fully understand.

The red light above the dashboard turned green as her ship finally left the system of wormholes. Mitzi sighed, relieved to be free of the bone-shuddering turbulence, and unclipped her harness. “Right. Where’d my team get put?”

“In the storage room,” Nic said. He was bent over his control panel, his forehead creased as he carefully adjusted dials. “The door on the right after the lounge area. You’ve got just under three hours till touchdown.”