They didn’t have the exact location of the Scythin ship. There were no heat signatures – assuming the Timelance even had a signature – anywhere close by nor hits from mass scans of the local area. Either the Timelance wasn’t within range of the Child’s instruments or it was immune to them. Whatever happened, they weren’t going to have a technological advantage, of that Naecia was certain.

“Guess I’ll give them a ring?” said Aptat.

“We’re ready,” said Izairis.

Aptat see-sawed their head side-to-side in an equivocal “we’ll see” sort of way. “Okay, well, I hope they aren’t super keen when it comes to forged neural diaries and coherence receipts.”

“Hey,” said Izairis, crossing her arms. “They won’t suspect anything. I know what I’m doing.”

“She does,” said Oush, who had Izairis to thank for being captured himself.

“I’ll do an all-directions chirp,” said Aptat, issuing the command. “We’ve obviously done business before. They’ll identify it.”

Everyone flinched when the return chirp came through the com. There was no light delay at all. It had come from somewhere extremely close.

“I don’t see anyone out there,” said Aptat.

“A commercial rig mining comets?” Oush suggested, though they all knew nobody would be drilling in such a remote spot.

Izairis, who had subtly commandeered some of the ship’s duties, pushed the display large and swept the starfield with the conventional scope.

Aptat pressed their lips together and said crisply, “Well, let’s just see who seeks to parley, then.” They brought up the transmission ID and telemetry. All blank except for the basic directional information. Aptat gestured to Izairis. “Put visual on these coordinates.”

They watched as the ship’s central camera panned the ecliptic. Then it stopped. “It came from that way,” said Aptat to a screen of black, salted with stars. “Whoever it is, they’re pretty well hidden. Ahem.” Aptat tapped the com. “This is the stringhunter Silent Child. To whom am I speaking?”

“You have a very nice com voice,” said Naecia. “Polite.”

“You know, I appreciate that,” Aptat said, casually leaning back to address her. “I do try to keep a sense of decorum. In my mind, it’s what’s really missing these days, especially amongst stringhunters. The truth is you never know how a pleasant disposition will–”

A deafening noise, low frequency and full of gain, blasted from the com. Aptat gestured down the volume. “This is them. Let me run it.”

Several wavelengths graphed across the display, then faded along each row into words as the ship translated.

Aptat.

Bringing yourself within our capture radius.

An interesting decision.

Your Stringer works slowly.

How did you come here?

Time is running out.

Exit the area or be eviscerated.

We are hunger.

“Everyone be calm,” said Aptat.

“We are calm,” said Izairis.