They’d spoken, a little. Nothing useful in the content of their speech, not as far as she could tell, but it wasn’t what they’d said that bothered her. She was discomfited because she understood their language. She had no need of the Terrans’ translation process or the irascible but amusing linguistics expert Doctor Palin.

They’d spoken in clear Priminae, albeit with an accent she’d never before encountered.

Milla really didn’t know what to think of that.

They couldn’t be Priminae. They were . . . they were worse by far than the Terrans, who even Milla found occasionally distasteful in some of their actions and pastimes.

Taking a cleansing breath, she examined her reflection in the mirror briefly before deciding that she’d neatened up well enough. She made her way out of her quarters and down the corridor, heading for the bridge. She wasn’t on duty, officially, but the Odysseus had seen combat in her absence. She wanted to determine just how well the weapons had performed in the fight and whether the enemy’s arms were a significant threat to the Heroic Class cruiser.

This was all professional interest, of course. It wasn’t like she was itching to find out just how badly her systems had been mauled while she was gone.

►►►

► “Continue to track the ship when it goes to FTL,” Eric ordered the scanner chief as Milla stepped onto the bridge. “Get vectors and anything you can about their drive system.”

“Aye Captain.”

The Odysseus was still close to the gas giant, deep in the system’s gravity well. After the crew had recovered the Marines, shuttle duo, and prisoners, Eric had elected to remain and monitor the departure of the enemy ship from the system, using the light-speed delay to ensure nothing was missed.

He glanced in Milla’s direction as she walked over to the tactical station and relieved her second.

“Welcome back, Lieutenant.”

“Thank you, Capitaine.” She glanced up briefly before refocusing on her instruments.

“Your systems performed admirably in your absence,” Eric assured her, smiling slightly. “As did your subordinates.”

“I expected no less. Both were of the finest foundation,” she responded, then scowled slightly. “The enemy lasers are at least thirty percent over our own in raw power. That is . . . annoying.”

“Still Class Ones, so it hardly matters.”

“You have shown them your capabilities, Capitaine,” she reminded him. “They are . . . not going to remain unchanged.”

“Because they’re Priminae?” he asked mildly.

Milla stiffened, then snapped her head around to look at him, eyes blazing. “They are not Priminae. I do not know what they are, but they are not my people.”

“No.” Eric nodded. “No, I suppose they’re not. They’re more ruthless, culturally, than I’ve known the Priminae to be, and there are enough differences in their technology to be noticeable, but you come from the same roots, Milla. You must.”