Admiral Runacres deployed his motherships in staggered columns, line ahead, with Tasmania in the van at two tactical spans, and Eire, carrying his flag, next in line. All active signal emissions, except for directional laser communicators, were suppressed. All passive detection systems indicated that their hyperlight arrival was undetected.

R-K Two, the home planet of the belligerent aliens, spun in its orbit on the far side of the system, and Rex-Kaliph, the blazing yellow sun-star, masked the fleet's approach to R-K Three. Runacres ordered a flight of three corvettes to probe the system's defenses and to explore the suspected alpha-zed planet.

After a three-day transit Peregrine One descended into a survey orbit. Two more corvettes stood off from the planet, acting as pickets and communication links for directed laser transmissions. Crowded in the corvette's science laboratory, Cassy Quinn's survey team intently scanned the planet with every passive means available. After ten orbits they had detected no radar or communication signals, alien or friendly.

"It looks cold down there," Jake Carmichael, the corvette's pilot, said over the science circuit.

"It sure is, Commander," said Nestor Godonov, Quinn's geological assistant. "The planet has an eccentric orbit. Practically the entire planet is experiencing winter conditions right now. It's very cold. The good news is that spring should be breaking soon."

"Tell Commander Quinn to find something soon," Carmichael replied. "We're a sitting duck."

"You'll be the first to know, Jake," Quinn replied.

"I better be," Carmichael said. "Good luck, Cassy."

"Thanks," Quinn signed off and pushed over to the master console, rechecking the emission scans. She cursed softly. "Something wrong, sir?" Godonov asked.

"No, Nes. It's just I wish something—anything—would show up. There's nothing here!" Exasperation was manifest in Quinn's voice. Her frustration generated a contagious despair.

"Come on, sir," Godonov replied. "It's the most encouraging planet the Legion has ever seen—alpha-zed beyond doubt." Quinn said nothing.

"We'll find them, Commander," Godonov said. "We've only overflown thirty percent of the planet. The IR target backlog is still building."

"Nothing but volcanoes and lots of those," Quinn sighed.

An alarm sounded. The officers jerked, gyrating in null gravity.

"We're being lit up!" Carmichael's tense voice came over the command circuit. "I have solid radar tones and repeatable signals. We're being localized!"

Quinn moved to the master console and verified the emissions.

"Roger, contact," she said over the science circuit. "Our systems are picking up pulses. We're definitely being painted. It appears to be standard search radar and not target acquisition. Source position is coming out now."

"Huhsawn, we think-ah your ship-ahs come back-ah," Dowornobb said.

Hudson had to concentrate on what Dowornobb was saying before he allowed the meaning to sink in. He had reconciled himself to never being rescued.

"What are you saying, Master Dowornobb?" Hudson replied, in konish.

"Your people are back, Master Huhsawn," Dowornobb said, grateful to speak his own language. "We have detected an object in orbit. Not a konish ship."

"Not a konish ship?" Hudson gasped. "Does Colonel Longo know?"

"I know not, though it can only be a matter of time. He has soldiers stationed in the control areas. Mistress Kateos is checking."

"I could try talking to them on the radio," Hudson said excitedly. The realization drove home. His scalp crawled. The fleet was back!

Hudson noticed Dowornobb flinch and subtly adjust his posture.

"Yes, you could," came a powerful voice—Longo's. Bareheaded, but wearing a burgundy Genellan suit, the officer cantered into Hudson's camp. Four soldiers armed with blasters and wearing full combat suits trailed behind. "But I would rather you did not."

Hudson tried to think. Why not? he wondered. It was the nightmare he had been warned of. He swallowed and stared Longo in the eyes.

"Good afternoon, most excellent Colonel," he said. "Of course, as your guest I would be at your pleasure to communicate with the, eh…" He could not come up with the correct konish word. "With the, eh. not known… spaceship."

"Your cooperation is appreciated, Master Huhsawn," replied Longo, inadequately civil. "The, eh…unidentified spaceship will be contacted at the appropriate time. We will certainly call you to assist us. For now I request that you remain in our dome. I leave soldiers to keep you company. I am sure you understand my meaning." He turned and departed without waiting for a reply. The soldiers deployed to the entrances.

Kateos and Et Silmarn had quietly followed Longo into the agricultural dome. Kateos bowed her head and lowered her eyes, as was expected. When Longo was comfortably by their position, she cast an overtly obscene gesture at his receding form, much to the surprise and poorly concealed delight of Et Silmarn.

"My mate!" Dowornobb begged, looking nervously at the sentries. "Do not antagonize authority. Your disrespect will be reported."

"I apologize, my mate," Kateos said. "Of course you are correct. I will harness my feelings." She checked that Longo's sentries were out of hearing.

"I am happy for you, Hudsawn," she said. "They will rescue you."

"I wish I were as confident." Hudson walked over to the dome and stared out at the wintry view. "Colonel Longo may have other ideas."

"Wha' do-ah weee do-ah nex'?" Et Silmarn asked. "One of us needs to get to a transmitter," Hudson said.

COMINT alarms sounded. Something had been intercepted, something that qualified as intelligent communication. Quinn jerked awake at her station and watched Godonov move to the monitoring system and disable the alarm. He cleared the system and began interrogation. Quinn's intuition screamed. She floated over to watch. She was frightened.

Godonov turned so quickly they collided.

"Contact!" he yelled. He returned to the console. "What tha—? It's just a series of pulses. I wonder what the computer thinks it is? I need to pull the logic analysis." Godonov paused for several seconds, staring at the output. "Would you look…It's Morse code!"

"What does it say?" Quinn asked, her stomach fluttering.

"I'm running it through a conversion. I can't read ditty code." He punched his keyboard, and the screen changed format. Quinn was afraid to look. She closed her eyes and prayed. An eternity passed.

"What does it say, Nes? What does it say?" she cried. Godonov hit keys. The decoded message raced across his console:

"Nash!" Quinn whispered.

"Commander?" Godonov asked.

"Nashua Hudson. My husband's second officer. Anything else?" she asked briskly. She moved to her console; her fingers trembled.

"That's all. It was repeated a dozen times and then nothing."

"Patch the message to Commander Carmichael. Have him maneuver to optimize coverage of the reported latitude, and tell him to drop to low orbit. Get the rest of the survey team up here." Quinn felt bitter panic welling within.

Dowornobb finished running the program that generated the peculiar sequence of dots and dashes. He had expected Longo' s soldiers to be guarding all radio access, but it had been ridiculously easy to transmit the radio message. He strolled nonchalantly from the planet's surveillance center. Colonel Longo and a squad of soldiers loped down the corridor toward him. Dowornobb swallowed and kept walking. It made no sense to run; there was no escape. He made an effort to pass in the wide hall, but one of Longo' s flunkies stepped in front of him, pushing him against the windowed wall. The thick glass vibrated with the force of impact.