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We won’t be attending And neither will the Olyhts

As the battle plays in the background, I follow Colloway’s scrutiny of the Waste of Ladon “Getting a ghost in the eastern Ladon That’s our bird Hermes-class corvette”

“Wait for it to get into the debris field” Sure enough, the corvette has no interest in the scrum over the western hemisphere It pierces orbit over the eastern hemisphere and sprints for the debris belt “Char, sick ’em”

“Boooes the ion”

A thousand tons of high-grade engines and weaponry come alive in the hollow of the dead destroyer Inertial da place

“Chin to collar” I reraveyard toward our quarry They haven’t spotted us yet in the debris “I am the tip of the spear Move atWe stop, we die” There’s a shudder as our ship hits debris I see an open line between Alex and Rhonna I click in

“Here’s hoping this one’s worth a wolfcloak,” Alexandar says

“Bah, he’ll make us die puppies,” Rhonna replies “Stay sharp, Princess”

“And you, Ruster”

I click out

“Eyes on target,” Colloway drones “Pricks and slits, guard your tenders, spit pending” The ship rumbles as its cannons fire They’ve spotted us It’s a race now through the debris field toward their waiting ar off as the Blood Medusa returns fire The seconds thicken Each a test of patience Three weeks I have waited Three weeks in darkness Three weeks in torment Three weeks for this kill

A e builds behind me

The lights go green

Yellow

Red