“No question, Admiral. Same configuration as the Heral’c, except for a series of what I’m told are called parasite frigates, launched as supplementary mobile firepower.”

Tanner took a step back, shaking his head. “That makes no sense. Parasite craft . . . those haven’t been used in . . . those are historical curiosities, Captain. No one uses those.”

“Someone does.”

“Captain Weston,” Tanner said calmingly, “you’re talking about someone using design specifications from well before living memory. Those files are buried deep in Central. It takes full council authority to access them . . . and the Forge itself to actually construct them.”

“Admiral, you are not understanding me,” Eric told him. “This . . . Empire is not some rogue Priminae nation. They’re something else, something bigger, and they do not like you.”

Tanner cast a glance around himself, checking for anyone nearby, and finding none, turned back to Weston.

“You’re speaking of myths, Captain. Legends. Stories told to children to scare them at night. It cannot be real.”

Eric looked at him evenly. “I think it’s time you told me a bedtime story, Admiral, because while I may not be a child, I’m already scared.”

►►►

► Milla Chans looked over the curve of the planet below, eyes falling to the white clouds drifting over one of the northern seas as she settled deep into thought.

“You look serious.”

She jumped, the rasping voice catching her by surprise.

“Whoa,” Steph choked out, steadying her as she landed and twisted around. “Are you okay?”

“I . . . sorry, Stephan,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I was thinking about . . . the prisoners.”

Steph nodded. “I can see that. They’re a puzzle alright.”

“No.” She shook her head. “It is not that. Stephan, do you remember when you and the capitaine found me?”

“Of course.” Steph smiled. “Not every day you rescue a damsel in distress.”

She rolled her eyes. “I know what that means now, and I find the term objectionable. However, that is not what I was referring to. Do you recall what I called you?”

Steph shook his head. “Can’t say I do. Why?”

“I called you, all of you,” she said, waving her hand, “the Others. Those who broke their oath.”

“Right, I remember. Didn’t make much sense to me then. Why, what does it mean?”

Milla shook her head. “It is an old story . . . for scaring children, yes?”

“A ghost story, sure. I’ve told my share,” Steph said. “So what are these Others?”

“They’re . . . monsters, Stephan,” she said uncertainly, like she was trying to remember. “The Oath was a very old code of conduct. To uphold justice, preserve the peace . . . the wording has long been lost.”

“Sounds like the code of chivalry,” Steph said with a smile.

“I am not familiar,” Milla said.