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Shattered Ice

Above Ice Port, Playa

Barrett Anders dreaded answering the comm. Every conversation with his commanding officer left him even more frustrated about his current situation. He hadn't complained when he'd been ordered to his destroyer—the Caliban—to stand watch over the ghost town of Ice Port. After the fateful day at Parliament, he'd known he'd be shoved off to some sector where he could cause little damage to Senator Heid's war-making plans.

Playa, the planet farthest from the Collective's pair of citizen worlds, was a natural choice. Barrett's predecessor, Corps General Michel Ausyar, had bombed the planet's fringe station and space docks into oblivion in an attempt to quell the fringe riots, though Barrett suspected there'd been more to it than that.

After the bombing, the only life believed to remain on the planet was the scattered colonies of stretches, unnaturally tall humans who'd lived in low-g for too long to be able to survive anywhere else.

However, Barrett had seen enough to know there was far more life on Playa than Parliament believed. The Caliban's scanners had picked up ships landing and launching a few hundred miles from where Ice Port had stood. Only a handful of ships in the Collective had the ability to launch without the assistance of space docks, which meant there was likely an unknown space dock on Playa's surface.

He suspected that he'd discovered the torrent base, but he wanted to be careful with that knowledge until he better understood the approach that would be best for the entire system. He'd announced to the tech who'd caught the first signals that they were relief aid workers and to mark the area off as a relief zone, exempting it from further scans. That order could earn him another demotion if the wrong person found out. He trusted the tech because she was a conscript, but he knew both Laciam and Heid had spies on board the Caliban, reporting all of Barrett's actions to their leaders.

He missed the Littorio. He'd led that crew for years and knew who could be trusted. Unfortunately, that warship was now commanded by someone under Heid's thumb, while Barrett had an aged destroyer with an inexperienced crew of unknown loyalties. The only positive in his current situation was that he didn't have to sit under the Unity's shadow. At least, out here in the black, he felt at relative peace.

His comm screen chimed again, and he took a deep breath before tapping the Accept button.

Laciam's smug, Myrad features filled the screen. "Commandant Anders, I was beginning to think you wouldn't answer."

"My apologies, Corps General. I had a problem in Engineering to address. The Caliban's over fifty years old, and I have systems erroring out every day."

"All ships in the Collective Unified Forces are maintained per regulations," Laciam recited.

"I'm sure we're just experiencing glitches," Barrett said. "At least it keeps the crew busy. They get antsy with nothing to do."

"It's your lucky day, Commandant. I have a mission for you."

Barrett tensed. "The Caliban is at your disposal."

"Of course it is," Laciam said before continuing. "I have received intel that Vym Patel, a known torrent leader, survived the bombing of Ice Port and is still on Playa."

"Do you have a location?"

"I am sending the coordinates to you now."

Barrett pulled up the map over Laciam's face to find what he'd expected: a circle around the secret space dock in the canyon range. "Would you like me to send patrols to verify?"

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