Task Force Sigma silently fell through the brown dwarf system on a relativistic cruising trajectory. Dark, icy debris belts punctuated the glow of the galactic disc like scattered grains of dust on a dazzling tapestry of warm light. The brown dwarf was becoming resolvable in their instruments, a tiny swirling maelstrom of orange light and complex patterns.

  Liu and Grayson remained at watch in the CIC as the rest of the crew was winding down from the battle, exhausted by the herculean mental effort demanded of them by the use of the tactical Neuronet. Liu’s heart rate was slowly recovering to pre-battle levels as the implant induced neurotransmitters and adrenaline were slowly degraded by his natural metabolism. Grayson’s face was still dotted with sweat.

  Despite the temporary calm in the wake of the battle, the task force was in disarray. The Peacekeeper was misoriented and on a diverging trajectory due to maneuvers during the ambush. Meanwhile the rest of the task force had been running dark in only a vaguely known direction. There was no way to contact them other than breaking radio silence.

  “Get me Sanchez,” Grayson ordered.

  >LPI radio, broadcast, Liu commanded the computer.

  >Task Force Sigma, this is Peacekeeper. Missile threat neutralized. Brown dwarf approach, d = 1 AU. We are doing a reorientation burn to rematch with prior trajectory. Given present velocity, Peacekeeper will be first on approach to our target system, Grayson reported.

  A jagged pulse of encrypted radio emanated from the Peacekeeper, almost appearing as random noise. It spread across the void with quiet calm before gently falling onto the ships of the task force with the force of a whisper.

  It was several seconds before a reply was heard as a rapid fire click of infrared. The communicative line of sight had been reestablished.

  >Good work out there Colonel. Keep us posted, Sanchez replied calmly.

  The image of the brown dwarf grew larger and larger as they approached. Dark clouds of ultrahot metal raged below the exosphere while a sinister glow emanated from its depths. Suddenly, a tiny pixel emerged into view from behind the dwarf, a silent imperfection gliding over the cloudtops.

  >Optical magnify 200x, Liu commanded.

  A tiny asymmetric shape, 2 pixels wide, slid over the disc of the brown dwarf. Its brightness changed erratically, possibly the result of a tumble imparted by the missile launch with no further stabilization. Likely a disposable, automated missile launcher, Liu muttered to himself. Infrared spectra showed a featureless band punctuated by sharp absorption features in the near infrared. Ferrous alloy, oxide surface, definitely artificial. It orbited inertly over the brown dwarf with only a few spots of residual heat. It was likely dead, Liu reasoned. A tumbling platform would be unable to maintain a weapons lock. Even then, it should be neutralized on principle.

  “Sir, we have a probable launch vehicle for the missiles we just neutralized. We should look into it,” Liu said. With a silent neural command, the central projector displayed the image of the brown dwarf with a tiny dot over it along with the incriminating spectra.

  Grayson’s weary eyes looked at the display. He nodded his head with a deliberate slowness.

  “Make the request, Liu.”

  A tight beam infrared flash emanated from the Peacekeeper towards the task force, still running dark.

  >Task Force Sigma, this is Peacekeeper. Occultation signal of probable launch vehicle. Moving in to characterize in detail before neutralization.

  Several tense seconds passed before the reply was heard.

  >No go. Return burn to task force trajectory immediately. Do not expend additional delta v or munitions on inert target, Sanchez refuted.

  A wave of anger immediately rose in Liu’s chest, a toxic brew of nausea and humiliation.

  “This is outrageous, sir,” Liu said, gritting his teeth in frustration, temporarily losing his cool for the first time in centuries.

  Grayson’s stern eyes met his gaze. In a frigid voice that brooked no dissent, he gave a final command.

  “Put us on a return trajectory. Characterize the new contact as best you can remotely. Do not pursue or expend munitions.”

  Liu gritted his teeth in anger as his mind raced through a thousand paranoid possibilities. How the hell would insurgents, even with hijacked Directorate assets, know about the exact timing of a task force arrival through a system? How would they have inserted a mine here? And why would they fire on just the Peacekeeper? Was the initial contact a bait? Unless this was all a setup by Sanchez, Liu thought resentfully. He’s actively trying to kill us off to protect the secret.

  “Lieutenant Colonel. Return trajectory. Do you understand?” Grayson ordered again, his voice increasing in gravity.

  “Are we just letting them go?” Liu asked, bewildered.

  “No. We are cataloguing the threat but are not expending weapons or additional delta-v on them. Authorizing lasers and remote scan only. No munitions, no drones, no additional burn.”

  The tantalizing flicker of the expended missile launcher hung like a taunt over the planet’s disc. Without intervention, the Peacekeeper would pass through the system within hours, cruising at a substantial fraction of light speed and unable to stop. They would lose the chance to study their attempted assassin.

  >Peacekeeper, initiate return burn. Failure to rejoin the task force will make planned gravity assist and refueling impossible, Sanchez reminded them again.

  Grayson looked at Liu sternly, his hands hovering over his side arm.

  “God damn it, make the burn now, Lieutenant Colonel,” he commanded. Liu acquiesced under the implicit threat of death.

  >Current orientation and trajectory relative to task force? Liu queried.

  The Peacekeeper command AI replied in its eternally cool and neutral mental voice. To Liu’s sensitized ears, it had become the most grating voice in the universe.

  >Task force (1,2,-1) local basis. 0.5 AU distance.

  >Match orientation and burn to intercept trajectory, Liu commanded.

  >Silence voice response, 10 hours. Text only.

  The ship dutifully acknowledged in silence.

  >Acknowledged. Neural auditory input disabled, 10 hours.

  Rotating reaction wheels slowly guided the Peacekeeper’s orientation back to that of their linear motion vector. The firm cushioning of the command perch scratched against Liu Yang’s back like a scouring pad while even the softest of touch from the side panels felt like a rigid clamp. Then, the main pulse drive reactivated, free of inhibition about the detectability of its blazingly bright plume.

  Nudge. A gentle jolt was felt on his ankles. Nudge. Another step into the darkness. Nudge. Liu’s ankles no longer felt the strain from high acceleration like before, but only a gentle compression. The jolts of the pulse engine gradually increased into a steady push as a plasma plume expanded behind them.

  “It is done, sir,” Liu stated redundantly. He glanced over at Grayson. The old, tired figure was rubbing his eyes as if he was too bored to bother staying awake. Liu decided to add a few more furtive commands, hidden by his authority as the second highest ranking officer on board.

  >Two way tight beam to relay. Establish telemetry. Pull relay sensor records. Standard fleet authorization. Transmit to Liu Yang personal file only.

  A laser beam vanished into the darkness and lit another orbiting station in an imperceptibly dim scatter. An electronic handshake was conducted within microseconds before a long modulated pulse returned to them over the course of seconds.

  >Full spectral characterization of target at closest approach. On my mark. Store data in buffer prior to public release.

  The Peacekeeper agreed in secret dialogue.

  >Acknowledged.

  The brown dwarf loomed in their vision, no longer requiring high zoom to see. It was a sinister, glowing eye watching them. The Peacekeeper’s own infrared eyes were zoomed in on the missile canister, drinking in their full spectral information and shape. At this distance, it was fully resolvable as a tumbling object, a rectangular box approximately 200 m long attached to a flat missile cell face with 3 empty cells. Faint gossamer webs of high frequency radio antenna wires stretched along a boom. It was an RF plume tracker. Shit, Liu thought to himself. This was a sophisticated ambush operation.

  >Attempt to ping the platform, broadband fleet channels. If successful, pull all data.

  Alternating pulses of infrared and radio lit the tumbling missile launcher in an attempt at electronic conversation. There was no reply except for their faint reflections. It was truly and utterly dead. Liu exhaled in frustration. Perhaps at least the active reflection spectra can be of some value.

  “Comprehensive spectral data has been acquired. Unlikely to be of further intelligence value unless boarded or drone probed,” Liu said disappointedly.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  “Nothing we can do about that, Lieutenant Colonel.”

  “Requesting permission to fire, sir?” Liu requested.

  Grayson gave his confirmation with a single nod of his head before adding a small condition.

  “One quick sweep. Just get rid of the tracking. Try to leave the data core in good condition for any possible cleanup crews. I’ll get sector command on the line afterwards.”

  >Activate primary laser array at closest approach. Target marked object 1 after full characterization, Liu thought.

  The fusion drive almost imperceptibly skipped a beat as the reactor lasers briefly rerouted through alternative waveguides. A burst of coherent light lanced through the void. A few meters of the tumbling launcher began glowing in the infrared before turning white hot in a fraction of a second. The rotation caused the pulsed laser to punch a wide slash across the entire surface.

  A jagged cut was created across the boom of the plume tracker, as well as an entire side of the main canisters of the missile launcher. Debris silently drifted away, lit briefly by the orange glow of the brown dwarf. A small round piece of debris broke off in the corner of Liu’s vision. He immediately found it suspicious. The shape seemed too perfectly geometrical.

  >Magnify debris, he commanded. His eyes focused on the debris. The command AI instantly guessed his intention and automatically zoomed on the shape. It was a dark cylinder spinning in disarray away from the missile launcher, silhouetted against the brown dwarf’s glowing clouds. A surface at the flat end glinted like glass as it rotated while a few thin cables flailed aimlessly in the darkness. The sides were fuzzy. Liu almost could convince himself that the pixelated border was an external ladder.

  Was… was that an externally stored stasis chamber? Liu’s mind began racing. That would confirm his theory. Yet solid proof was maddeningly just out of reach.

  >IR spectral imaging characterization, he added to the command. Instantly, a snapshot was taken and a chemical overlay appeared. Most of the infrared signal was the faint reflected blackbody of the brown dwarf’s light glinting from metal, but there were faint signatures of organic functional groups. A small bump in the spectrum.

  A faint hint of fluorine carbon bonding appeared, but it was impossible to deconvolute from the results of plasma damage. Was it a faint signature of fluorocarbon from a discarded EVA suit or simply plasma scarred metal? The signal was maddeningly ambiguous. Dilute wisps of atomic oxygen absorption bands appeared as a faint fog nearby. Photolysed water or a leaking oxygen reserve? Piloted missile or his anxiety clouding his mind?

  Before Liu could finish his anxiety filled thoughts, the cylinder had been eclipsed by the expanding cloud of debris. The answer would never be answered with any level of certainty. Within seconds, they would whip around the brown dwarf, changing their trajectory by a few degrees. By the time the ruins of the missile launcher would emerge from eclipse, they would be departing the system at high speed. He breathed in deeply and sighed.

  >Release marked object 1 spectral and imaging data to common database. Do not release debris analysis data. Maintain in buffer, then download to Liu Yang personal datalog.

  Periastron. The hellish glow of the brown dwarf began to slip behind the curve of the Peacekeeper's hull. The shattered missile launcher, now a cloud of shattered dust, was about to vanish into permanent eclipse.

  Liu’s eyes remained locked on the spectral displays, a final, hopeless scan. Then, a flicker. Not from the debris, but from the terminator of the brown dwarf itself, on the night side they had not observed.

  A cluster of pixels on the neutron spectrometer display bloomed for less than a second—a brief, coordinated rise in flux at the 2.47 MeV and 14.1 MeV lines. Directorate fuel signature. Then, nothing.

  Of course. The plume tracker drone was placed by someone. A ship. It had been hiding on the dark side, waiting, Liu pondered to himself. It had launched its ambush, and now it was lighting its drives to leave, knowing the Peacekeeper was committed, unable to turn back.

  "Sir, we have detected a sensor anomaly," Liu stated with a resolute voice that brooked no dissent, even from his superior officer. "Sensors to terminator."

  Grayson’s head snapped up. "Location. Magnitude."

  But even as Liu called up the data, he knew. The signal was already degrading into noise, swallowed by the background radiation of the dwarf and the widening distance. The AI's analysis scrolled across their vision.

  >ANOMALY: Transient neutron flux, terminator region. Confidence: 42%. Possible sources: Background fluctuation, magnetic filament collapse, artificial fusion ignition (low probability). Insufficient data for classification.

  "It's gone," Liu whispered, more to himself than to Grayson. Repeated sensor scans were taken, but it was no use. Longer and longer integration times yielded the same answer: nothing. TNo ship. No signal. Only the void, the slowly fading disc of the brown dwarf, and a maddening, unanswerable question: whether they were truly the hunter, or the hunted.

  Liu breathed in again. There was nothing that could be done now.

  “Commander, we are exiting the system. Target has been neutralized according to plan. Return trajectory to task force in progress. Request relief in preparation for stasis shift rotation within t = 8 hours.”

  Grayson gave him a wordless nod. Liu removed his restraints and propelled himself towards the CIC exit. He gave Grayson one last look before departing. The commander’s hair seemed to get even whiter and his wrinkles even deeper after this ambush. He turned away. The doors slid open silently before closing equally efficiently in his wake. The heat of the ambush had finally cooled into a simmer of discomfort.

  Thud. Liu ballistically rammed into one of the walls in his absentmindedness. The internal polymer lining left his head a little bruised, but otherwise intact. God damn, Liu cursed again. He reoriented himself towards the stasis chambers. Grayson would be here soon, to join him in a fitful, artificial slumber. This was the only time he would have to himself.

  The stasis chambers remained the same, but climbing through them now felt like scaling a cliff. The familiar rows of glass windowed hatches reflected the green emergency lighting with a subtle menace.

  Liu studied their structure intently. A free floating, tumbling version of this chamber would have the glass reflect the light from the brown dwarf, he thought to himself. At 1% metabolism, it was plausible that they could’ve been waiting for decades. They could’ve seen their launch from across the rift, or received early warning. An EVA suit could have been attached to the outside. His paranoia spiraled into thousands of conspiracies.

  >Ready alert roster?

  >Life support: 143/150 deep stasis, 5 ready alert, 2 active.

  >Captain Okeke Tomas. Captain Lin Yiran. Captain Vargas Jose. Major Schaefer Donald.

  >Major Perrera Andrea.

  All the excuses for not fully investigating the attack seemed like a thin veneer for betrayal. The revulsion felt like someone smashing his head with a hammer, but around him there was no sound except for the almost inaudible hum of electricity and his own ragged breathing. Liu felt an immense pressure suffocating his chest. He had to talk to someone.

  Liu propelled himself up the row of cells with a single pull of his arms along the railing. His comrades were asleep. It almost seemed like a violation to awaken them. Okeke’s shaved head reflected the dim LED light of the stasis chamber with a white ripple. His chest gently pulsed at a rate of once per minute. Closed eyes gently flickered from one imaginary focus to another in slow, rolling patterns.

  >Vital signs stable. Status: ready alert stasis, 25% neural activity.

  He propelled himself further up. The railing felt cool and alien in his hands. Lin’s chamber was further up. As her metabolism slowed to a crawl, her once healthy facial color had turned to an ashen gray. Her hair had loosened a bit as it floated in zero g, but it was the same unmistakable auditor haircut. In her, Liu almost saw an overlay of the auditor, the spectral hand of the state that they had severed so long ago. Her eyes were precessing rapidly in a flickering pattern, far different than Okeke’s slow glances.

  >Vital signs stable. Status: ready alert stasis, 31% neural activity.

  Liu took a deep breathe before issuing his command.

  >Group message. Captain Okeke Tomas. Captain Lin Yiran. Authorization: Lieutenant Colonel Liu Yang.

  The acknowledgement of receipt came groggily from them both, as if they were on the brink of true deep stasis.

  >Hope you two are sleeping well after that, Liu said with a hint of sarcasm in his mental voice. He immediately recognized himself as slowly becoming more like Sanchez, but dismissed it almost as quickly. Leadership does not have styles, Liu justified to himself. It is either effective or ineffective.

  >Functional. Though the laundry synths are now fully employed, Okeke said jokingly.

  >Sir, have we found anything related to the ambushers? Lin asked without hesitation.

  He gave a physical sigh before realizing that he was alone in the real world.

  >Unfortunately, analysis is ongoing. Command decisions made above me have limited my ability to gather more evidence.

  Okeke’s neural voice fell quiet, his earlier humor completely replaced by weighty silence. Liu knew that he had succeeded in showing Okeke the treachery of their commanding officers and the necessity of working with him.

  >What do you mean? Lin asked.

  >We have remote observation. We could have pursued the target. But higher command ordered me to not expend munitions or delta v.

  Liu knew his next move would be a gambit. Okeke was already solidly on his side, but Lin would need additional convincing.

  >I am transmitting some data gathered at closest approach that may be of interest to us all.

  A video of a tumbling cylinder with a glinting reflection of the brown dwarf at one end and cables flailing in the void on the other appeared in their shared neural space. The ambiguous infrared and optical spectra were played. Then the video from the terminator appeared, showing the dim glow of hard X-rays and neutron radiation that barely penetrated through the brown dwarf’s exosphere before the denser lower atmosphere swallowed the signals.

  >What are we looking at? Lin asked.

  >It looks awfully like an ambush drone and drive signature, Okeke remarked.

  >I was not allowed to fully investigate, Liu replied with a hint of false caution in his voice.

  >Why would that be? Lin said with a dawning sense of dread.

  >They claim it was due to insufficient delta-V and the rigid need to maintain trajectory, Liu said with a forced neutrality.

  >Fuck these guys. They are trying to kill us off, Okeke cursed. It was a rare outburst of anger.

  >That is... a severe allegation. Why would our commanders want to do that? Lin asked hesitantly.

  Okeke immediately fell silent. He suddenly remembered that Lin was not part of the CIC crew on that fateful day. Liu also realized his mistake of

  Liu said no more. Despite his mistake, he knew that the question had been implanted in their minds. This was the question for them to ponder as they descended into the neural oblivion of deep stasis. He had only needed to introduce the idea to them. Whether it would take root is up to them.

  >This is just an informal briefing. Let’s not jump to any conclusions.

  >I will join you soon.

  He closed the Neuronet link. The silent hum of the ship returned. Liu floated before his own stasis chamber, its hatch open like a waiting mouth. Hours would pass before the next watch had awakened fully. Hours would pass before this living hell would be allowed to dissolve away into a transient neural purgatory, over and over again for centuries.