Page 23 of Warrior’s Mate

The maintenance room seemed to shrink around them. Maelis's fingers went cold. Kaiven's voice stayed level. "Where?"

"We don't know."

"Near Farseek?"

"We don't know."

"Then why are civilian messages touching defense routing?"

Another burst of static. When Hessantu answered, he sounded farther away.

"Captain, I don't have that answer."

Maelis moved closer to the terminal. Kaiven looked at her once, then asked, "When did the first advisory arrive?"

"Late last cycle."

"How late?"

Hessantu hesitated.

"About twelve hours ago."

Maelis felt the number like a physical impact. Twelve hours.

Her grandmother had eaten supper while children finished lessons and farmers shut down harvest machines. Maelis had gone home, washed the dust from her hair, and complained to her brother over a late meal that military officers could make a crisis out of a crooked storage manifest.

Twelve hours. If someone had known there was danger—

"What action was ordered?" Kaiven asked.

"None for civilian districts. Strategic command called it low-confidence intelligence."

"And the communication anomalies?"

"Only started surfacing this morning."

"Who controls the defense relays handling the diverted traffic?"

"I don't have access."

"Who does?"

"Kaiven."

The way Hessantu said his name answered the question before he did. Kaiven's face hardened. "Consortium coordination?" Maelis stared at him.

The Consortium maintained interoperability nodes linking allied defense networks. Everyone knew that. They were supposed to make it easier for worlds to warn one another, easier for fleets to coordinate, easier for civilians to receive emergency traffic when local systems were damaged.

They were not supposed to sit between Farseek and its own people. Hessantu's reply was barely audible.

"Some of them."

Kaiven closed his eyes for one heartbeat. When he opened them, the hesitation was gone.

"Send me whatever you can."

"I'll lose my access."