Horman Cambo sat before the terminal and frantically pressed keys. He turned about.

“S-sir, I c-can’t quite f-figure out what the p-problem is, s-sir!”

The captain watched Horman with apparent amusement, but said nothing. Horman hoped dearly that this did not indicate that the other wanted a full report, and after a brief hesitation returned to his furious pressing. The captain was by far the least condescending officer to preside over Horman’s career in communications, but he was still a captain of the Navy. The man seemed to be consumed by his thoughts, and Horman’s typing was the only sound for several minutes.

“Officer Cambo, you can relax. There is nothing wrong with our instruments.”

Horman’s eyes widened as he forgot completely about the terminal.

“B-but, s-sir, then wh-what…”

“I believe that the problem rests with Tertius, Officer Cambo. Verdanus is eclipsed by Tertius, and Tertius is no longer relaying to us. I’ve a bad feeling.”

He spoke into the ship’s speaker.

“Turn us around.”