Page 248 of Commander’s Mate

She had asked why.

I had no answer that did not translate to because I am afraid.

So she was here.

A ground captain pointed to the power distribution system. “We hit power first. Automated guns go down, lights go down, lifts stop, and we own the surface before they organize.”

“How many workers are underground?” Harper asked.

Every officer turned toward her.

The captain frowned. “This is a ground-operation discussion.”

“And if you stop the lifts while the people you came to rescue are underground?”

The captain looked at Tivid.

Tivid brought up the shift schedule. “Approximately seventy percent are below ground during the proposed strike window.”

“Independent emergency power?” Degatu asked.

“Unconfirmed.”

The captain’s expression changed.

Harper did not look pleased to be right.

She looked sick.

“No power strike until extraction systems are verified,” Degatu ordered. “We disable weapons locally.”

The captain nodded.

I looked at Harper.

Useful.

Not fragile. Not merely mine. Useful.

The distinction should not have been difficult.

I was learning.

Dread Eight had also found evidence of a recent military presence. Uniformed Sargus personnel were supplementing mine security, and a battle carrier had used the system within the past two weeks.

“It may return,” Pyrr said.

“It may already be coming,” Degatu replied.

“Then we plan for both,” I said.

Ground teams would enter near the barracks. Dread Eight would split its force and secure the agricultural complex. Shuttles would remain outside weapons range until we controlled landing zones. Medical and intake teams aboard both dreadnoughts would prepare for far more than the two hundred Farseek names on our list.

“No one who wants out stays behind because they are not ours,” I said.

No one challenged it.

After the briefing, Harper remained near the display.