“And beyond,” Gracen confirmed. “First touch base with the Priminae, assure them of our continued support, thank them for their help with the invasion and rebuilding. The new shipyard facilities they’ve offered to help build will be invaluable, of course.”

That was no joke, Eric knew. He still had a hard time believing what he’d heard about the Priminae’s Forge facility. An entire world cached deep inside the corona of a supergiant star? It wasn’t the stuff of science fiction novels, it was the stuff of fantasy.

Alliance brass weren’t planning on doing anything quite that extreme in the Sol System, but after the loss of Mars and their other space-based facilities, Earth needed the boost badly.

“Once you’ve managed that, take the Odysseus out beyond Priminae space,” Gracen said. “While Passer has the Autolycus hunting down anomalies closer to home, I want you to backtrack the path the Drasin took when attacking the Priminae colonies and try to locate their origin point. I don’t need to tell you what to do with any Drasin you happen across, I hope?”

Eric shook his head grimly.

There was no need for orders there, though he supposed they’d make it official anyway. Any Drasin ship located was to be destroyed. No quarter, no mercy. Under normal circumstances, he’d refuse any such command, but the Drasin defied “normal.”

They were neither sentient, nor sapient, near as anyone could tell, but even if they were, they were simply too dangerous to leave alive. Since they were more akin to a disease than anything else, Eric considered eliminating Drasin vessels roughly on par with destroying enemy bio-weapon facilities and warheads.

A dirty job, yes. Dangerous, certainly—but without a doubt not one to be approached half-assed.

“What’s the ROE for the ones holding the leash?” he asked, his tone misleadingly bland.

Gracen sat back, steepling her fingers. “That’s been the subject of much debate in high circles since before the invasion.”

Eric snorted. “No kidding.”

She smiled thinly. “For the moment, the code is no quarter. Leave not a single ship capable of fighting if you can help it, but we’re unwilling to issue the same dictate for personnel. Take prisoners if you can, but don’t risk your own ship or crew in the process.”

“Understood.”

Eric was mildly surprised that the orders stopped there. He’d done some research into the subject and was well aware that a certain faction of military wisdom said that you didn’t—no, you couldn’t—leave an FTL or interstellar-capable enemy alive. There were just too many easy ways to commit genocide once you had that level of technology.