The Jellies had also landed near Toska, a settlement in Weyland’s southern hemisphere, but according to the most recent news (which was nearly a month old), they hadn’t stayed. Several nightmares had passed through the outer part of the system, and they and the Jellies had engaged in a furious fight, the outcome of which was unknown, as all ships involved had jumped to FTL, one after another. The League had sent reinforcements to the system, but it had only been a small task force; the bulk of their ships were kept concentrated in and around Sol, to protect Earth.

Kira stopped reading when Itari finished with the Marines, and she walked the Jelly back to the airlock. When Kira told it about Orsted, Itari expressed polite acknowledgement and nothing more. The alien seemed surprisingly uncurious about where the Wallfish was heading or what would happen when they arrived. When she asked about that, it replied, [[Itari here: The ripple will spread as it will.]]

With the Jelly back in the airlock, Kira swung by the galley to grab some food and then climbed back up to Control. Nielsen arrived just as she did. The first officer was flushed and had tears in her eyes.

“Everything okay?” Falconi asked from across the holo table.

Nielsen nodded as she sank into her crash chair. “My family is alive, but my daughter, Yann, lost her home.”

“On Venus?” Kira asked.

Nielsen sniffed and smoothed the front of her tan shirt. “The whole city was shot down. She barely escaped.”

“Damn,” said Falconi. “At least she made it.”

A minute of silence followed. Then Nielsen stiffened and looked around. “Where’s Vishal?”

Falconi waved toward the back of the ship in a distracted way. “Went to check on sickbay. Said something about running a few tests on the Marines.”

“Didn’t he live in a hab-cylinder here at Sol?”

Concern spread across Falconi’s face. “Did he? He never mentioned that to me.”

Nielsen let out an exasperated sound. “Men. If you ever actually bothered asking some questions, you might learn—” She shoved herself up from her chair and stalked out of Control.

Falconi watched her go with a faint look of puzzlement. He looked over at Kira, as if hoping for an explanation. She shrugged and looked back at her overlays.

Interstellar wars were slow-moving affairs—even with technology as advanced as the Jellies’—but what had occurred was of a depressing sameness. Weyland’s experience was mirrored by those of the other colonies (although the battles at Stewart’s World were more similar in size to those at Sol).

And then there were the nightmares. As the months swept past, they had become increasingly prevalent, to the point where the UMC was fighting them as often as the Jellies. Every time they appeared, the monsters seemed to take a different set of forms, as if the result of constant mutation. Or, as Kira felt more likely, as if the driving intelligence behind them—the mashing Maw born of the unholy fusion of human, Wranaui, and Soft Blade—was feverishly, frantically, insanely, and randomly experimenting to find the best possible flesh for fighting.