I asked Kourser when she had picked up this message.

The sender was on board the wreck you just left, she said, looking at me oddly. Were you not conversing?

Not in the truth of the matter, apparently, was my response. I needed to get back, fuel up Twenty and get it moving towards Brallis-Foray. Wherever my brother’s ship was, they would know.

I made my way off the Red Sky with only the bare minimum of civilities, trusting Rokhin to handle matters. Twenty had been fully retensioned, but would need Byzantium powder to make it the distance it needed to go. Probably an adjustment to the flight mill too.

I checked the charts, endlessly comparing routes. Even completing the journey to the Fold in one go would be an achievement, let alone attempting to do so at maximum sustainable speed in extreme conditions – even for Twenty, who had been built for speed and endurance.

“Hawkeye – it’s Terciel. Some odd events have been occurring around Irwell…”