Aymes stiffened. “That . . . whatever that was, it was not an Oather vessel.”

The fleet lord scoffed. “Tell that to someone who hasn’t seen the records.”

“Then look again, My Lord,” Aymes insisted. “We did not launch our assault on the Oather systems without due examination. Compare hull scans, armor, laser efficiency . . . My Lord, none of it matches known Oather designs. The only thing that comes close is basic hull geometry, and even that has been altered significantly, My Lord. I am telling you—”

“You are telling me?” Kaliba cut in coldly.

Aymes steeled himself, not flinching away. “Yes . . . My Lord. I am. We have new a player.”

Kaliba was silent for a long moment. “Imperial analysts believe that the differences are merely an example of Oather technical innovation. The Drasin shook them up, Captain. Some of them are of better stock than the Oather average. My analysts indicate that the Drasin assault has simply put some of the better stock in charge.”

“With all respect, My Lord, the analysts are wrong,” Aymes asserted. “I’ve reviewed all the data many times over, including the scans from my parasites . . .”

“The ones you lost?”

“Yes, those.” Aymes just kept himself from snapping at the lord. He was all too aware that he was pushing his luck with the fleet lord, but Imperial politics were a game every line officer knew how to play. He was in too much trouble for respect to dig him out, so if defensive action wouldn’t save him, Aymes would go down fighting.

“Nothing in the response matched Oather profiles. They didn’t even speak Imperial standard, My Lord. They used translation systems.”

Kaliba’s expression was serious. “I had noted that. Analysts have no consensus on what that means.”

“It means they have contact with the Oathers, but they are not Oathers, my Lord.”

The fleet lord eyed him through the display. “The anomaly.”

“Precisely, My Lord.”

“The consensus of the senate does not match your opinion, Aymes.”

Aymes took a deep breath. “The members are wrong.”

Fleet Lord Kaliba smiled thinly. “Redirect orders. Put your vessel into Kraike. Await orders.”

“Understood.”

The display went dark, leaving Aymes to wonder if he’d won his little gambit or if there would be an inquisitor squad waiting for him and his crew when they arrived.

Ah, well, if my day is come, then so be it.

“Make our course for World Kraike,” he ordered. “All available power to drives.”

“As you command, Captain.”

►►►

AEV Odysseus, Forge Slip Nineteen

► “Signal from the Forge systems command, Captain.”

Eric walked across the bridge to the communications station. “Highlights?”

“Fast courier from Earth arrived in system,” the duty officer responded.

Eric nodded. “We were expecting that.”

“Along with three more Heroics and an even half-dozen Rogues.”

Eric froze. “What?”

The young ensign shrugged helplessly. “Those are the numbers, Captain. We’ve not received any updates from Command.”