“Report,” Sage said as soon as he strode onto the bridge, concern for the ship’s status driving thoughts of Tala out of his head, even if he would have preferred they stay there.

Korta, Zakota, Coric, and Ku were all there, and all of their faces were extremely grim as they turned toward him. Sage looked toward the sensor display of the Scyllan System.

He wasn’t surprised to see evidence that four of the thirteen planets were heavily populated with energy sources lighting up the scanners from pole to pole; nor were the populated moons a surprise, nor the transport and cargo ships sailing from location to location in the habitable zone around the sun’s orbit. He also wasn’t surprised by the four Scyllan patrol ships in the middle of long orbits that ran around the system, from gate to gate to gate, ignoring only a couple of them. On the other hand, the addition of a space station that intel didn’t have on the maps was surprising—it was inconveniently located right by the gate that could have taken someone to the Dethocolean System in only two jumps. It was the way humans had come long ago when they’d been attempting communication.

All of that was nothing compared to the most alarming thing on the sensor display. Eight massive fang-shaped Zi’i warships were docked at that station or anchored nearby. And near the gate.

Sage’s heart lurched at the implications. That gate led home, to his home. It didn’t lead to Zi’i space, not unless one took one of the most roundabout circuitous trips one could imagine. There was absolutely no good reason for the Zi’i to be in this system and no good reason for them to be sniffing around that gate.

“All four of those Scyllan patrol ships have already detected us and are heading our way,” Zakota said. “I’m currently on course for Gate 372, the one that eventually gets us to Gaia. But the most direct route would take us right past one of those populated planets, which I’m sure has more ships it can launch. I assume you want an indirect route.”

“Yes,” Sage said, though his gaze was locked on the station and the Zi’i ships.

He couldn’t imagine that was anything except an invasion force assembling. And if so, he feared his people did not know about it. The Confederation had spies all over the galaxy, but it had always been hard to infiltrate the Zi’i. Their kind were not easily bribed or blackmailed, probably because they thought of humans as food instead of people worth listening to.

If the Confederation didn’t know about this, and if the Zi’i meant to strike at the Dethocoles System with this many ships, they could do a lot of damage before reinforcements were called in. And what if this was only the start of this armada amassing? What if more warships were on their way? By all the gods, his mom and most of his family lived on Dethocoles. If the Zi’i reached the planet before forces could be mustered to turn them away, they could launch warheads and do terrifying damage.

“Indirect route at top speed,” Sage said, since Zakota was looking at him as if he wanted more direction. “Make it look like we’re heading toward Gate 205,” he said, naming the one by the station. “They won’t be surprised since that would be our logical way home. But as soon as they’re all taking their ships toward it, break off and hit 372.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Captain,” Korta said, “I am running scans on those Zi’i warships. They are very new. Four of the eight aren’t in our database of enemy ships yet.”

“As we get closer, see if you can intercept any communications between them, Lieutenant Coric,” Sage said.

“They’ll be encrypting their comms, but I’ll do my best to crack their codes,” she said. “I’ve got some of their older ones on file, though they’ve doubtless made up new ones since the war. I’ll be starting from scratch.”

“You can handle it.”

“Yes, sir.” Coric nodded firmly.

“Damn,” Sage murmured, watching the sensors, his mind whirring at the sheer number of ships in the system—and the implications. “We may have to abort.”

“What do you mean, sir?” Zakota asked. “I can dodge those Scyllans. How much practice can they have dealing with elite shamanic pilots?” He patted some of his talismans, making them clack together on their thongs.

“And I can shoot them.” Ku flexed his fingers over the controls, his eyes gleaming.

Nobody appeared overly daunted by the number of enemies soaring toward them, and Sage appreciated their confidence in the ship—and in him—but the Scyllans had a lot of ships, and the Zi’i ships were fast. Both enemies’ weapons would be top of the line. The Falcon 8 was fast and maneuverable with plenty of firepower, but it wasn’t a warship. It was meant for chasing down smugglers and slavers, not going into war. If they actually had to go toe-to-toe with a warship, they would be annihilated.

“Getting to Gate 372 might be doable,” Sage said, thinking as he spoke, “but that takes us farther from home.”

“Isn’t that the point, sir?” Zakota asked. “We’re still going to Gaia, right?”

“Maybe not,” Lieutenant Coric said, looking toward Sage. “Someone has to warn everyone back home about the Zi’i, don’t they?”

“The fact that they’re here is alarming,” Sage said, “made doubly so by the fact that they appear to be working with the Scyllans. Even if all the Scyllans are doing is letting them use the back door into Confederation space, that’s problematic.”

“That’s an understatement, sir,” Coric said.

Sage very reluctantly made his decision. The only good part of it was that it meant he would have more time with Tala. The bad part was that he might be arrested as soon as he got back home. But maybe this news would cause High Command to forget about his disobedience, at least for a time. If the Zi’i had decided to break the treaty, and war was starting up anew, his people would need him to command a ship.

“Korta,” Sage said, “record everything the sensors can give us in the next five minutes. Coric, get as much of their communications as you can. Zakota, get ready to cut back to Gate 299.”

“Back to the nebula, sir?” Zakota protested. “Does that mean Dr. Tala is going to give us more womanizing shots?” He squeezed one of his pecs. “I think I’m getting boobs already.”

“You had those already,” Ku said. “Your chest has always been soft.”

“Better than your soft head.”

“The nebula is the second fastest route back home,” Sage said. “The fastest… well, we’re not going to be able to fly through 205, past that station and all those warships.”

“There is a problem with retreating back through the Cronos gate, sir,” Korta said, his bulky lower body seeming to roll back and forth on its cilia-like legs. That was a sign of agitation from him.

“Why?”

“I’m reading more mines around the gate, the entrance on this side.”

“I saw them,” Zakota said. “I flew us around them with the help of Hierax’s detector, same as before.”

“Slowly around them,” Korta said.

“Yes, that’s the way one flies around mines. I didn’t blow any up this time, you might have noticed.”

“We’ll have to go slowly back through the field, and the patrol ships are coming in this direction. They’ll have time to catch us and start firing, if not right at us then at the mines we’re flying past. Our shields have had time to partially recharge, but more than one mine blowing up next to us would take them down fully.”

“I can fly faster if I need to,” Zakota said, looking to Sage. “I’ve had some practice now.”

“Two Zi’i warships are departing the station and heading in this direction,” Korta reported.

“All right, Zakota,” Sage said, not liking their options. “Continue with the original route, toward Gaia.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Coric,” Sage said, “open a channel to one of those Zi’i ships.”

“Er, all right, sir.”

“It’s hard to bluff your way to a victory on a Petteia board when you only have one stone,” he murmured.

The lieutenant, who wasn’t from his planet and probably wasn’t familiar with the game, gave him a hopeful look, and said, “Waiting for them to respond, sir.”

He wished he felt as hopeful about their prospects. He doubted the Zi’i intended to sit here with their ships gathering for weeks. If he had any hope of reaching home before they did and warning his people of the incipient fleet, the Falcon 8 needed to go through the gate behind that station. Or through the gate back to the nebula, but even that might be too slow. If he made it into the busy Ios System beyond the guarded gate, he could send a message to a transport ship about to go through the gate on the far side. The news would make it home in as few as six hours.

“They’ve opened a channel, sir. You’re on.”

Sage nodded. “This is the Star Guardian, Captain Sagitta of Dethocoles. I’ve been sent by Confederation Fleet High Command to deliver a message to the commander of the Zi’i armada.”

Silent seconds ticked past, and he looked at Coric to see if the channel was still open.

She nodded once.

Finally, a growl rolled over the speakers, and the image on the forward view screen changed from the usual starry background of space to that of a furry face. The Zi’i were as large as Treyjon’s svenkars, and also four-legged, but their paws were just as versatile as hands, and they could rear up on two legs to carry objects. This one had bluish-black fur, with a broad head, pointed ears, and a flat snout. The eyes possessed much more intelligence and cunning than those of a svenkar.

The Zi’i issued a series of growls and snarls that the chip embedded in Sage’s ear canal translated.

“This is Admiral Grsh, commander of the Star Stalker and one of the leaders of this exploratory expedition. You are well known to us, Captain Sagitta, and you are known to be a trickster.”

Exploratory. Right.

“I prefer the term strategist,” Sage said.

Grsh’s lips rippled back, revealing fangs surprisingly white and sharp. He was a very young admiral.

Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, the chip didn’t translate the unsavory growl that came from the back of his throat.

“I find it unlikely that you have been sent with a message, Captain,” the Zi’i admiral said. “Were that the truth, you would have entered from the gate behind my ass. Instead, you came from the Nebula of Insanity.”

An interesting term for it. Sage wasn’t sure whether to find it heartening that the Zi’i also had trouble with it or not.

“Humans have mastered the nebula,” Sage said without pausing. “We travel through it regularly now. And our intelligence reported your armada amassing here, preparing for an attack on Dethocoles.”

He watched the admiral’s face as he made the statement, believing his words were correct—there was no way the Zi’i, who had the curiosity of flat rocks, were out on an exploratory mission with an armada that large. Still, he couldn’t know for certain, and he hoped his enemy would give something away to confirm it. Unfortunately, Zi’i faces did not reveal much unless they were blatantly snarling. The rest of their bodies were better indicators of their moods. Sage had dealt with enough Zi’i to know how to read the signs, but not over a comm channel, when the admiral’s neck and face were all he could see against the dim, cave-like background of his bridge.

“I believed you would fire at my ship if we came through that gate and right into your lap,” Sage added. “Zi’i have been known to target human vessels encountered in neutral space, even though our current treaty states that our two races will not attack each other without provocation unless enemy ships are found within their territory, the boundaries of which are delineated in the treaty.”

“You seek to trick me, Captain. I am well aware of your reputation. I believe you are slinking around and spying, and you’ve simply stumbled upon us.”

Spying wasn’t exactly what had brought him here. Sage thought of Tala briefly, but pushed her image to the back of his mind. He couldn’t allow himself to be distracted now.

“That is incorrect, Admiral,” Sage said. “As I said, I am here to warn you. Disperse your armada now, and return to Zi’i territory. If you take your ships through Gate 205, you will find a Confederation fleet far larger than yours poised and ready to fire upon you.”

“Really, Captain, I think you should worry more about your little ship than my impressive fleet. It looks like both my people and the Scyllans are coming to greet you. With weapons. You will find yourself very unpopular in this system. I’m surprised you didn’t turn tail and run as soon as you saw us. Were there mines in your way? That’s a pity.” A throaty bark came out of the admiral’s mouth. The translator interpreted it as laughter.

Zakota looked back and pointed at the sensors. More ships had launched from the populated planets and were flying toward their fire falcon.

Sage nodded once—he’d already had his eye on that—but didn’t speak of it while he had the admiral on the comm. His bluff was falling on deaf ears, but what else could he try?

A low rumble came over the comm, the words apparently too soft for the translator to interpret. The admiral looked to the side, presumably to some captain or first mate.

“Yes, indeed,” Grsh said, turning back to the screen. “I am willing to make that magnanimous offer. Captain Sagitta, I’ve been reminded that you are wanted alive by my government. Thanks to your role in the war, there are many who would like to let you loose in the jungles of our home world and hunt you down. It would be most enjoyable to hunt a cunning human. How long could you hide from the premier predators of the galaxy, I wonder?”

“Make your offer.” Sage knew he wouldn’t like it, but perhaps there would be an opportunity within it.

“We will let your ship go if you turn yourself over to us.”

“How appealing,” Zakota muttered.

Ku was glaring ice bolts at the Zi’i admiral, his fingers moving over the weapons controls in something like a caress.

“If you do not,” Grsh said, “we will simply blow you out of the stars. You must see that you are ridiculously outnumbered, and, oh, look. Another ship.”

“Captain,” Zakota said, pointing at the display of the system.

Another Zi’i ship was floating out of the nebula gate.

“We, too, have learned the trick of sedating our crew while the ship navigates itself through the nebula,” Grsh drawled.

“Why didn’t we see him in the nebula?” Zakota whispered.

“Mute comm,” Sage murmured, not wanting the admiral to hear the discussion.

“That’s a stealth cruiser,” Ku whispered back. “Got those hulls that deflect sensors unless you’re right on top of them.”

Zakota groaned.

Sage didn’t let himself appear bothered. It didn’t matter that much, since they had already dismissed the idea of going back through the nebula.

“Less than five minutes until the Scyllans are able to attack, sir,” Korta said. “Unless we divert toward the Zi’i.”

“Just because they attack doesn’t mean they’ll hit us,” Zakota said.

“What say you to my offer, Captain?” the admiral asked. “It is most generous, is it not? I am a little surprised I’m making it. You had better accept it before I change my mind.”

“Un-mute,” Sage said. “You’ll let my ship and my crew go through the 205 gate if I turn myself over to you, Admiral?”

“Oh, not this gate, no. Nor back through the nebula, I think. Nor to 372, since that eventually leads back to your territory without too long a journey.”

Sage kept his face neutral at the list. The last gate was the one he’d originally planned to take, to deliver the women to Gaia, but he couldn’t imagine doing so now that the Zi’i had all but confirmed that they meant to attack his home system. Why else would the admiral care how quickly the Falcon 8 got home? And though Sage found the offer surprising, he took it at face value. The Zi’i were proud of their warrior society and their honor. Cunning in battle or in the hunt was acceptable, but he hadn’t met many of them that lied during negotiations.

“One of these other gates.” The admiral’s furry paw-hand came up and he waved vaguely.

“Where the hells do those even go?” Zakota whispered.

“One goes to the rim,” Korta said.

“What say you, Captain?” Grsh asked. “The Scyllans are getting quite uppity about you invading their system. A shame you haven’t worked out a deal with them, as we have.” Grsh’s lips reared back again, this time in a predatory smile. “If you come in this direction soon, perhaps we’ll be able to protect you from them.”

“I accept your offer, Admiral. Commander Zakota, change course. Take us to the Zi’i armada.”

Zakota’s eyes widened, but all he said was, “Yes, sir,” and tapped the console.

Sage didn’t miss the way his hand darted down to rub one of the talismans.

“We will be waiting, Captain,” Grsh said. “No tricks, not if you want your ship to go free.”

Sage said nothing, merely waved for Coric to close the channel.

Several sets of eyes turned toward him as soon as the admiral’s image disappeared from the screen. Concerned eyes. Even Korta, who had sunken sensory holes in his stone-like head rather than eyes, seemed to share the feeling.

Sage didn’t always explain himself to his people, but he would need their help—and their understanding—to get out of this one.

“We need to get home and warn High Command as soon as possible,” he said. “This gets us close to that station—and that gate. At which point, we come up with something clever to discombobulate the Zi’i, zip past them, and fly into the wormhole.”

“Is our ship faster than these new ones of theirs?” Ku asked.

Sage looked to Korta, assuming he would have the latest specs.

“Intel suggests we’re evenly matched in the speed department, and, of course, we’re smaller and can turn more swiftly,” Korta said. “The Scyllans, however, are demonstrating that their engine technology has improved since humans last visited this system.”

Zakota pointed at the sensors. “Yeah, they’re catching up with us. And it looks like they’re going to try to cut us off before we can even get to the Zi’i.”

Sage sighed, wondering if the gods were punishing him for having the hubris to believe he knew better than the archons and High Command, to assign himself his own mission. He’d thought he was doing the right thing, that his government was wrong, but perhaps he had been a fool. If he had been, it was too late to do anything about it now.

Opening the ship’s intercom, he said, “This is Captain Sagitta. We’ve entered the Scyllan System, as planned, and have encountered a Zi’i fleet amassing here, most likely to launch an attack on the Dethocoles System and the seat of the Confederation. We’ll have to fight our way out of here, and I’m afraid our mission must change. It is now of paramount importance to get home to warn our people. All crew, don your battle armor. It’s likely we will be boarded. All guests…” Was guests the right term? It felt strange. The Falcon 8 wasn’t supposed to have guests. “Report to sickbay. It’ll be a tight fit, but it’s the safest place on the ship, and we can defend it during a boarding if necessary.”

“Two minutes until those Scyllan ships are close enough to fire,” Korta said.

“I’m ready for them,” Zakota said. “This is going to be fun.”

The words sounded brave, but when he started touching his talismans in order, and lifting a couple to his lips to kiss, Sage didn’t quite believe him.