The Ghost lifts free of the platform, looking like new—or, at least, as new as it did when it first arrived on Capralla. The powerful repulsors built into the front of each engine nacelle are glowing green as they push the ship into the air. The vessel rotates slowly, pointing away from the science outpost. No one is outside waving; most of the outpost’s staff are eating dinner. The atmospheric engines start to glow, then ignite with twin booms. The Ghost lurches slightly, before beginning to accelerate away from the station. In minutes, it’s invisible to the naked eye.
Wil turns in his chair slowly, taking in the entire bridge of the repaired Ghost. “Okay, where to?
Prathea is at the station she’s taken to occupying when on the bridge. “The dreadnought was last seen in the Molandro system, but that was two weeks ago.”
Zephyr is studying one of the screens at her console, absentmindedly tapping her chin. “There isn’t much out past Molandro. Two points give us a line, but not much of a clue—if it keeps going straight, it will already be outside GC space.” She looks up from her console at Wil.
“After all this, I doubt it will just leave quietly.”
“Agreed,” Maxim chimes in. He taps on his console, and the main display updates, showing a zoomed-out star map. The Sargul Nebula, where they found the dreadnought, is in the lower corner. A green line connects the nebula to the Molandro system. “We have to assume that part of the reason it destroyed all those ships was information gathering.”
“Why? It could have destroyed them for no reason at all,” Prathea counters.
Maxim shakes his head. “True, size- and firepower-wise, those ships had no chance. However, from the reports that have trickled back, the ships weren’t destroyed entirely. Many were damaged and definitely not operational, but that dreadnought could have easily atomized every single ship. It left many at least partially intact. That tells me that it wanted intelligence.” He taps another few controls and the main display changes to an image they’ve all seen dozens of times in the last week: a still from the last transmission from the Molandro system. On the screen are the remains of the Peacekeeper task force. Ships are broken in half, others nothing more than mangled wrecks. Maxim points. “We saw those drones—”
“Mechano-squid,” Wil interrupts.
“I’m still not calling them that,” Maxim says, then continues with his main point. “We saw those drones operate in vacuum. They could easily range out and pick those ships clean. Certainly, there would be survivors in emergency bunkers or life pods.” He glances to Zephyr. “And droids. Each ship in the Peacekeeper navy has droids on board. Some only one or two. Ships like that carrier, however,” he points one of the slightly more intact ships, “would have hundreds. Many just like Gabe.”
“So….?” Wil says, waving his hand in a go on motion.
Bennie, who’s been working silently at his station, picks up the thread. “So, that ship is likely going to Tarsis or Palor.”
Wil snaps his fingers, suddenly seeing it. “Because on ships manned by Peacekeepers, there wouldn’t be much pointing to anywhere else. The crew would obviously all be one species, and the computers and droids would all know where the capital of the GC is.”
“Okay, two choices, both pretty horrible,” Zephyr mumbles.
Prathea raises a hand. “My vote is Tarsis. Palor may be where Peacekeepers come from, but it’s not where they’re centralized. Whether peaceful or not, that ship is likely intent on making its presence felt at the seat of power in the GC. Militarily and civilly, that’s Tarsis.”
Wil turns back to face his console. “Tarsis it is.” The Ghost turns slightly, then jumps into FTL.