“Captain, communications are back online, and we are approaching the station,” the helmsman reported.

Varna looked forward. Nirenda Station hung beyond the bridge windows, growing steadily larger as Artemis closed the distance. The installation consisted of a central spindle surrounded by habitation rings, docking structures, and defensive platforms. Small service vessels moved between its outer sections, unaware that anything was wrong.

Excitement stirred beneath Varna’s composure. Plans were becoming real.

He called up the tactical display and quickly reviewed the station’s known defenses.

“Mr. Morgan, take over the hunt.” Varna indicated the security channel still carrying reports from the teams hunting G’Dahn through the ship’s ventilation system.

Morgan nodded and transferred the channel to his station.

Varna turned toward Chen. “It is your show now, Mr. Chen.”

Chen looked up from his console. “Should I contact them immediately? They’ll demand identification soon.”

The young man sounded nervous. Varna intended to use that.

“Let them wait,” he said. “Allow them to make one or two requests before you respond.”

Chen glanced toward the station. “Why?”

“You want first words—and your first action—to show you’re serious. Committed.”

“What do you mean?”

“If you start by talking, they will assume talking is all you intend to do.” Varna leaned back in the command chair. “You will sound like every other man with a cause but no will to act on it. Your threats will seem empty before you have even made them.”

“Captain,” the communications officer interrupted, “the station is requesting identification.”

Varna looked at Chen but said nothing.

Chen hesitated. “Do not respond yet.”

His voice nearly broke beneath the confidence he was trying to imitate.

The communications officer looked toward Varna. Varna nodded. The officer turned back to his station.

Chen stared through the forward windows. “I’ll respond to their third call.”

“They will probably have launch fighters to intercept us,” Varna said. “Not that the fighters could do much against Artemis, but having them out gives them options.”

“Do we destroy them?”

Varna shrugged. “If we attack first, we risk appearing unreasonable.”

Chen looked at him. “We are threatening them with antimatter weapons.”

“Reason is sequential, Mr. Chen. The station commander must believe that every escalation is a response to his own decision. If we fire first, he has no choice but to fight. If he believes he still controls the pace, he may continue negotiating.”

“The station is repeating its request for identification,” the communications officer reported.

Chen continued thinking. “What if we activate our weapons after they launch the fighters?”

Varna nodded slowly, though his expression remained doubtful enough to encourage Chen to defend the idea.

“That would be proportional. Their fighters increase the threat; we answer by demonstrating our capability. They would still believe they could escalate again if necessary.”

“I see.” Chen looked back toward the station as though solving a particularly difficult problem.

Varna sat quietly. Inside, impatience pressed against his ribs. Chen’s mind was moving exactly where Varna wanted it to go, but far more slowly than he preferred.

“I have a fighter launch,” the sensor operator announced. “Six contacts leaving the station.”

“Third request for identification,” Communications reported.

Chen looked first toward the communications officer, then at Varna, and finally back at the station.

“Proportional,” he murmured. “But decisive.” His expression brightened. He hurried to his console. “I’ll give them a response they cannot exceed.”

Chen entered a sequence of commands. One by one, six red indicators illuminated across the weapons display. The antimatter warheads were armed.

Varna smiled.

“How is that for a decisive response?” Chen asked. He turned toward Varna with defiance replacing his earlier uncertainty.

Varna drew the pistol from his waist and fired.

The first projectile struck the suit’s air recycler beneath Chen’s chest. The impact threw him backward from the console as though someone had driven a hammer into his body.

Before he could fall, Varna fired again. The second round struck higher. A sharp crack sounded as the projectile broke through Chen’s sternum.

The young man hit the wall and slid to the deck. The holes in his suit sealed automatically. A secondary recycler activated, and emergency medical indicators began pulsing along the collar.

None of it could repair the damage inside him. No one on the bridge moved to help.

Varna rose from the command chair and crossed to where Chen lay. He crouched beside him and held up the pistol.

“Mass driver,” he said. “They are rarely carried aboard ships. The projectiles can penetrate pressure walls and damage the hull.”

Chen’s eyes struggled to focus on the weapon.

“They are also much heavier than needles. A magnetic field may turn a needle aside, but it cannot redirect one of these quickly enough.”

Chen tried to speak, but only a thin breath escaped him.

“Thank you for arming the warheads,” Varna continued. “I agree. It was an excellent response.”

Chen’s mouth moved silently again.

“If it offers any consolation, the conference that troubled you so much will be stopped.” Varna placed one hand briefly on Chen’s shoulder. “In fact, why don’t I stop it now?”

He stood and turned to the weapons console. The six authorization indicators remained active. Chen’s codes had unlocked the weapons and placed them in an armed state. Varna transferred operational control to the command station, then raised the protective cover beneath the first red light.

A tactical display appeared. Nirenda Station filled its center. Varna pressed the flashing launch control. The button went dark. A vibration passed through Artemis as one of the warheads left its bay.

“Bridge shields,” Varna ordered. Heavy metal shutters descended over the forward windows and locked into place. The tactical displays tracked the warhead as it crossed the distance to the station.

Several seconds passed.

Then the screens went white.

The shock wave struck Artemis moments later. The entire vessel rolled beneath the impact, and loose equipment tore free across the bridge. Displays dissolved into static before the compensators stabilized the ship. When the tactical image returned, Nirenda Station no longer existed.

Its central structure had broken apart. Sections of the habitation rings tumbled outward, burning from within. Docking arms and defensive platforms spun through expanding clouds of wreckage, their lights flickering out one by one.

Varna turned toward Chen, another remark already forming. The young man was dead. Varna felt a brief pulse of disappointment.

“No fighters remain on sensors,” the operator reported. “No escape pods or surviving station craft.”

“Good.” Varna returned to the command chair. He transferred control of the five remaining warheads to his station and opened the communications system.

A status indicator appeared on his display.

BUOY RECORDING

Varna began speaking.

“By the time you receive this message, you will already know that Artemis has been taken and that its five remaining antimatter warheads have been compromised.”

He allowed a pause.

“What you do not know is where I intend to use them next.”

Varna opened a prepared file containing a list of names.

“To avoid finding out, you will release the prisoners listed in the attached demand. Each has been unjustly confined by Concordat authorities.”

His expression remained calm as the wreckage of Nirenda Station turned behind the tactical overlay.

“If you fail to comply, I will begin returning the warheads to the Concordat in my own fashion.”

He leaned closer to the recorder.

“You have one day to respond.”

Varna ended the transmission and ejected the buoy. The bridge display showed the small device falling away from Artemis, broadcasting its identification signal and recorded demand.

Varna turned toward the helm. “Set course for these coordinates.”

He entered a new destination. The helmsman examined the numbers.

“There is nothing charted there, sir.”

“We want privacy.”

Varna reopened the warhead controls. He replaced Chen’s authorization codes with his own, then disarmed the remaining weapons. The six red indicators became five amber ones.

He looked toward Morgan. “How goes the search for our guest?”

“Still no confirmed sighting,” Morgan said. “Several teams have fired into the ventilation system, but no one has reported a body.”

“Keep looking. I want the Serpis dead before we reach our destination.”

“Course laid in,” the helmsman reported. “Estimated transit time: one hour.”

“Initiate transition.”

The helmsman engaged the drive. The wreckage of Nirenda Station vanished from the displays as white energy formed around Artemis.

Then the captured ship slipped back into transition.

Next Chapter: XIV