“We have a problem, Captain,” Zakota said as soon as Sage stepped onto the bridge, joining him and Korta there.

Korta stood at his usual spot, the science station, and was likely monitoring ship movements in the rest of the system.

“Novel for us,” Sage murmured. “Give it to me.”

“Two of the Zi’i warships are on the move. It looks like they’re heading through the 205 gate.”

“We’re not moving yet, are we?”

“No, but Hierax and Asan report ready. They’re also ready to jettison the Zi’i shuttles.”

Sage headed for his command chair, though he didn’t sit down, merely stopped and gripped the back of it. “Hierax?” he said, opening a channel to the Zi’i ship again. “Have Coric send a text message to the other Zi’i, letting them know that—”

“They’re not buying that their own people are at the comm station here, sir,” Coric interrupted. “I just got a long stream of threats and demands for identification codes.”

“In that case, let’s just get moving. The Zi’i ship will lead, and we’ll pretend we’re imprisoned in their tow beam.”

“Sir,” Zakota said, “those two ships are parking themselves right in front of the gate. And I mean right in front of it. There’s no way we’ll be able to fly around them and get through unless we blast them out of the way first.”

Sage grimaced. Technically, they had a Zi’i warship of their own under their control and could add its fire power to the Falcon 8’s in a battle, but his pilot didn’t have any experience with Zi’i technology, and unless Hierax could man the weapons station over there, Sage wouldn’t have anyone who could fire weapons at all. Even if Hierax could handle it, it wouldn’t be second nature for him.

Even if his people over there knew the warship forward and backward, it would still be the fire falcon and one warship against two other warships and five more that were close enough to join the battle within minutes. There was no way they could fight their way through that gate. Which left… what?

“The nebula gate is still blocked?” Sage asked, studying the sensor display.

“By the mines and the Zi’i cruiser there, yes, sir,” Korta said.

“And our original destination…” Sage brought up gate maps in his head, imagining the journey through to Gaia and then the way he’d gone back to Dethocoles the first time he’d had the women on board. It would take twelve days to get home that way, twelve days to warn his people of the trouble here, since a few of those systems along the way were rarely to never visited by courier ships. But what choice did he have? They weren’t heading toward Zi’i space, and he didn’t know where the other two gates in the system led. “Is that open?”

“It’s not,” Korta said.

“What?”

“Since we originally entered the system, the Scyllans have brought ships over to block it. They’re also blocking the Zi’i gate and one of the two remaining ones.”

“How many ships?” Sage asked.

One way or another, it looked like they were going to have to fight their way out. He started running battle tactics in his mind, thinking of ways to either use the warship in a fight or sacrifice it in a fiery, spectacular, and devastating explosion to buy enough time to get away. Could he get all his people off and send it toward the warships guarding Gate 205 with a self-destruct countdown running? The problem with that idea was that, with the two Zi’i ships so close to the gate, it was possible that an explosion would damage the gate itself. A few gates had been destroyed during the Territory War, and neither his people nor the Zi’i, nor any other alien race that Sage was aware of, knew how to fix them. Destroying the gate would put home even farther away.

“Two large Scyllan ships are blocking Gate 372, the equivalent of the Zi’i warships,” Korta said. “We wouldn’t get past them without a heroic battle. There are no repair facilities in the next system in that direction.”

“I know.”

“Need to make a decision soon, Captain,” Zakota said. “Two more warships just left the station. Their shields are up, and they’re heading toward us.”

“You hear that Hierax?” Sage asked.

“Yes, sir. What’s your plan?”

Sage almost scoffed, but the way Hierax asked the question, as if he was absolutely positive Sage had one, made him keep the noise to himself. He didn’t want his people to feel disheartened.

“Fly us toward the unguarded gate,” Sage said.

“I don’t know anything about that wormhole or its destination, sir,” Asan said.

“None of us do.”

“Oh. Well, I guess it’s all right, then.”

“Captain,” Korta said as Asan got the warship moving, with the Falcon in tow. “It seems highly likely that there’s a reason that gate isn’t guarded. The Scyllans have enough ships out in the system now that they could have moved them there if they wished.”

“Trust me, that’s crossed my mind,” Sage said. “In fact, I deem it highly likely that there’s something extremely dangerous in that system. Or there are more Zi’i waiting, and we’re being funneled into a trap. But, with luck, it’s less of a trap than the one we’re in now. The Scyllans won’t be there, so there shouldn’t be anywhere near as many ships to deal with.”

The Zi’i ships could follow them right through the gate. But if the aliens were preparing for an invasion of the Dethocoles System, it was unlikely they would send a significant number of their forces to chase a single ship.

“Heading that way, Captain,” Hierax said. “With the Falcon in tow.”

“Good.”

Sage watched the sensor display, tracking the ships throughout the system—and those close enough to intercept. None of the Scyllan spacecraft veered to cut them off. But the Zi’i ships that had launched from the station were another matter. Two vessels gave chase.

Zakota’s fingers twitched over his control console, but they were still being towed by the Zi’i warship.

Sage shook his head. There was little point in continuing that ruse now.

“Hierax,” he started to say at the same time as Hierax spoke. “They’re gaining on us, sir.”

“I see that. Withdraw the airlock tube, and release us from tow. We’ll fly on our own power.”

“Yes, sir.”

Since Ku was part of the boarding party on the Zi’i ship, Sage took the weapons station. Zakota looked over at him, and Sage thought he might make a comment about his captain being rusty, but he only nodded.

“Distance to gate?” Sage asked.

“Eight minutes,” Zakota said.

“That gate look normal, Korta?”

“Yes, sir. The same as the five others in the system.”

“Take us to it, Zakota. Max speed.”

“Working on it, sir.”

Their captured Zi’i ship flew at a maximum speed similar to the fire falcon’s, so they arrowed toward the gate side by side. The pursuing warships fired, but the range was great enough that their en-bolts half dissipated before reaching the Falcon 8 and the Star Stalker. Zakota tapped at the controls and mumbled to himself, partially integrated with navigation through the chip in his mind. The fire falcon swooped and spun as it continued toward the gate, and most of the enemy fire streaked past without touching them. The few bolts that made it struck the shields weakly and were deflected away.

“This is too easy,” Sage murmured, tossing a few half-hearted en-bolts back at the warships, even though he knew they wouldn’t be any more effective for him. He didn’t say it, but he was positive they were flying into a trap.

Sage considered altering course at the last minute and trying to surprise the aliens guarding the other gates. But they had shored up their defenses even more since Korta’s last report.

Sage thought about comming them and trying to make a deal, but the Scyllans had never responded to humans, not at any time in the two centuries the Confederation had known of their existence. Further, what was going on now made it clear they had an alliance of sorts with the Zi’i.

Still, as the minutes ticked down, Sage jogged over to the comm station and sent a hail to one of their ships and also the most populous planet.

“Three minutes to the gate,” Zakota reported.

Commander Korta looked over at Sage. “No answer?”

“No,” Sage said, eyeing the comm station.

“It seems we have no choice. We cannot stay here, and we cannot go through any of the other gates.”

“I wonder how far the Zi’i would follow us if we flew out past the heliosphere and into interstellar space.”

“To what end? We would have to return to the system eventually, and, as you’ve said, we dare not dally if we wish to warn your people about the Zi’i.”

“Yes, I know.” Sage sighed, not caring for any of the options.

“One minute, sir,” Zakota said. “We’re still going in?”

A shudder went through the ship as enemy fire caught the shields. The warships were close enough now to pack more of a punch.

Sage nodded. “We’re going in.”

“I’ve never navigated a wormhole that wasn’t on the charts and hadn’t already been explored by humans,” Zakota said, his mouth twisting.

“You’ll make history.”

“Huh.”

Sage couldn’t tell if Zakota was daunted or pleased by the prospect. Mostly, he looked grim, far grimmer than usual.

“I trust you’ll do a good job,” Sage said.

“Lots better than Asan, anyway. He’s such a rookie. He’ll have that Zi’i ship bouncing off the wormhole walls like a drunken svenkar trying to escape his kennel.”

Sage tapped the intercom, noting that the Scyllans hadn’t acknowledged his hail in any way. Not surprising.

“We’re entering the gate in less than a minute,” he announced to the ship. “Brace yourselves.”

He didn’t mention which gate. Hells, he wasn’t even sure what the numerical designation for the thing was.

Sage buckled himself into the command chair, something he rarely bothered to do. But he had a feeling this would be a bumpy flight.

The fire falcon and the captured warship flew in one after the other.

The familiar purple confetti filled Sage’s mind as he lost consciousness and control of his body. But then something less familiar happened, a painful jerk, as if his head were knocked to the side. Blinding white light flashed behind his eyelids, and he couldn’t escape it or shut it out. He felt like he was spinning in dizzying circles, faster and faster, and then with a final jolt, he seemed to hit a wall. Pain and blackness swallowed everything.

When he woke, that pain continued, throbbing in the center of his skull. His entire body was clenched, muscles rigid with tension, and he had to force himself to relax as he blinked and tried to get his bearings.

Gradually, the bridge came into view, along with Zakota’s back. He was slumped over his console, his face pressed into the controls.

Sage often woke before others when the ship came out of gate jumps, but his pilots were always awake and alert first, having never fully succumbed to unconsciousness as they navigated the ship through the wormhole.

With shaking hands, Sage unfastened his harness and staggered toward Zakota. The deck was flat, and the ship wasn’t making any ominous sounds, but he felt very off. He glanced toward Korta, and was surprised to see him tipped on his side, the hundred-odd cilia-like legs usually invisible under his boulder-bulk now exposed.

“Zakota?” Sage asked, his voice raspy.

He gripped Zakota’s shoulder and squeezed.

Beeps came from the communications station. Probably crew members from other parts of the ship wanting to check in. Hopefully, they only wanted to know why the trip had been rough and didn’t have damages to report.

Zakota groaned and lifted his head. “What happened?”

“You’re supposed to tell me that.”

“Am I? Damn.” Zakota’s pupils were large and unfocused as he looked around and then at his controls.

“Give me a report as soon as possible.” Sage looked at the view screen and the sensor display as he headed for the comm station. Both showed a fairly normal system stretched out ahead of them, if a large one. Two suns and at least two-dozen planets with more popping up on the sensor display as the computer probed farther outward.

Clacks came from Commander Korta, the equivalent of groans from him. His two tentacle-like arms with fingers at the ends gripped the edge of his console, and he heaved himself upright.

“You all right, Korta?” Sage read the reports coming in over the comm, then called for Ensign Dow, the usual night-shift officer for the comm station. It would take a half hour to answer all the messages, and he had more important things to do. Like figuring out what this system was and where in the galaxy it lay.

“I am… functional, sir.”

“Good.” Sage walked to his station. “I need some information about this system as soon as possible, including if there are any other gates leading out of it. Also, search for enemy ships.”

So far, the sensors weren’t showing any, but ships could be hiding behind those suns or those planets or in either of those asteroid fields that had popped up on the display.

“Yes, sir.”

“It was weird, sir,” Zakota said, sounding a little more like himself. “The first half of the wormhole was typical, and we were cruising through just fine.” He made motions with his hands to simulate the curving nature of those wormholes. “And then it got really rough, and at the end, I saw the exit hole, but it kept moving. Never seen that happen before. I had to keep adjusting our course to try and get out. Bounced off the walls a couple of times. Boundaries, is the technical term. We—where’s the Zi’i ship?”

Sage spun, looking at the sensor display and feeling like an idiot. He’d been so discombobulated that he’d forgotten about it.

“They were ahead of us,” he said slowly, grimacing at the display. “They should have come out ahead of us.”

“Where’s the gate?” Zakota asked. “Oh, way over there. Some energy force must have really propelled us—there they are!”

He tapped a control, and the gate came up on the view screen just as the Zi’i warship limped out of it. Sideways. And without any of the purple surge of energy that one usually saw around a ship as it flew out of a gate.

“That’s not how it’s supposed to go,” Zakota said.

Ensign Dow came on the bridge, and Sage pointed at him and at the ship. “I need you to comm them. See if they’re all right. Korta, any update?”

“There are no other gates in the system, Captain,” Korta said.

Sage grimaced, though he wasn’t surprised, since the system wasn’t on the Confederation star maps. Had there been other ways into it, exploratory civilian and military science vessels would have likely stumbled across it long ago.

“Lieutenant Coric confirms that our crew aboard the Zi’i ship is alive and well, if rattled, sir,” Dow reported.

“That’s good.”

“They’re damaged though and running on auxiliary power. Chief Hierax is looking into it.”

Sage nodded. Hierax could get the ship running. He always did. And even if he couldn’t, Sage could always abandon the Zi’i ship and return everyone to the Falcon 8. It appeared there was nobody in this system to play the captor-prisoner ruse for.

“Sir?” Korta asked, a higher pitch than usual to his grinding-rocks voice.

Sage had learned that pitch meant concern. Korta didn’t use it often.

“Yes?”

“The gate appears to be dead.”

“Dead?”

“Even when dormant, active gates put out a slight energy signature,” Korta said. “I’m not reading anything from this one.”

“We broke it?” Zakota asked, staring at the Zi’i warship.

“Possibly,” Korta said, “but I deem it more likely that it’s been broken for a long time, and that the Scyllans knew that. Perhaps the Zi’i did too.”

Sage stared bleakly at the dark gate.

“Usually, when the link is down, the gates are dead on both sides,” he said, aware of numerous defunct gates in the galaxy.

“Yes, sir,” Korta said, “but perhaps, since this one is still technically traversable, at least from one side, the built-in failsafes to prevent ships from being lost in the wormhole haven’t kicked in yet. The technology of the Wanderers is still much a mystery to us.”

“Am I correct,” Sage asked slowly, eyes still transfixed on the gate, “that there are no instances of humans ever having fixed a dead gate?”

“That’s correct, sir,” Korta said. “Though most gates are dead because of interstellar drift breaking the old wormholes. There would be no way to fix them without creating new wormholes, which is centuries, if not millennia, beyond our current technology level. However, there have been numerous attempts to fix 14 and 117, since those are known to have been destroyed by man- and alien-made explosions during various wars.”

Aware of the gates, Sage said, “They were never fixed, despite many attempts.”

“That’s correct, sir.”

“Well, Hierax is just going to have to find a way to fix it, anyway,” Zakota said, twisting in his seat and looking back and forth from Korta to Sage. “He’s a miracle worker, right? And he has three of my luck talismans, one of which increases his crafting abilities. If anyone can fix it, Hierax can. Right?”

Zakota looked very much like a man in need of convincing. How he imagined Hierax would fix the gate when astrophysicists, engineers, and scientists who had spent their lives studying the gate system hadn’t been able to, Sage didn’t know. Not to mention that they would have no tools or spare parts to work with beyond what was on these two ships…

“If anyone can, Hierax can,” Sage said, because Zakota needed to hear it.

He just wished there were someone there who could convince him.