For a breathless moment, there was no sound on [i]Artemis[/i]' bridge, only jagged and harsh shadows. The expanding bubble of debris from the [i]Perseus[/i] raced away in every direction, pieces of the superstructure trailing burning atmosphere through space. Sarett carefully did not look too closely, lest she convince herself that she could see bodies being pulled into the void, limbs flailing and mouths gasping for a breath that would never come. Instead, she snapped her attention to the rest of the command deck.

“Report!” She barked, handing her infopad now filled with irrelevancies to an ever-hovering lieutenant.

“Multiple explosions at the the Coalition flagship’s location,” came Ensign Tanner, his eyes on the sensor readout in front of him.

“Did somebody shoot?” Sarett said.

“Negative,” came Myles’ voice, also looking at sensor data, “Ava’s saying that the explosions look like they originated [i]inside[/i] the ship. Confirming now.”

Tanner spoke up, “Multiple pieces of debris,” he said, “Judging by the spectroscopic data, the big explosion was the ship’s reactor cooking off. If there was anyone alive on the hulk, the radiation burst probably killed them.”

Sarett’s heart dropped. Generations of war, whole worlds laid to waste, and for what; a refrain that was so common that it was almost a mantra. Everything leading up to this had been almost a miracle, the right people with the right mindset - or the right bribes - at the right time, and she knew in her heart that it almost certainly wouldn’t come again. The stakes were enormous, there was almost no way they could be higher. The fate of millions, of billions, rested on this knife-edge, and it had been her job to try keep that delicate balance from being upset. 

There were almost no innocent explanations for a starship exploding of its own accord. Both sides were being manipulated here, drawn into a situation that would very likely detonate all on its own. That meant [i]someone[/i] was counting on the idea that everyone involved would be ready to shoot given the tiniest excuse, and that made Sarett angry. There were more than enough people - millions of them, doubtless - to orchestrate the idea of perpetuating the war. Maybe for profit, maybe out of some misguided patriotism or out of plain blind zealousness. She’d seen it all her life, was surrounded by people who would kill until there was nothing left to kill every day. Without a choice in the matter, she herself had been honed into the kind of weapon those people salivated over.

But she wasn’t going to be the pebble that started the avalanche. This was too important, peace was too important, her garden where she would fail to grow tomatoes until she was old and gray was [i]important[/i]. There might not be room for daylight, the chance for peace may have just been blown into atoms and a burst of gamma rays, but she had to try.

Sarett cleared her throat, “All right. Sound general quarters and raise shields. Scan for incoming, and coordinate with Ava to respond, but [i]do not[/i] arm main weapons; don’t even load the railguns. We will not establish firing solutions until there are no other options, is that clear?”

She was surrounded by a sea of faces, and at the very best her orders had left her offices with dubious expressions. At least one person looked angry and was about to open her mouth. Sarett fixed her with a look that should have left her a smouldering crater on the far wall, for the first time glad for her scars and mismatched eyes. The officer gave a sour frown and turned back to her station, jabbing with unnecessary force at the controls. So long as she followed Sarett’s orders, she could hammer at the keys all she wanted.

“The 12th just finished launching,” Myles said, cutting through the thick silence, “They’re still following their patrol route.”

Sarett nodded, and walked to a communications panel. She jabbed the button that would open a circuit to Tolliver with her artificial hand, her thumb clicking on the switch. Part of her hoped that the news wouldn’t have reached the man yet, but critical situational awareness moved fast - especially when you had an AI construct whose job it was to disseminate information.

“Commander Tolliver, I need you to order the 12th to a defensive position around [i]Artemis[/i],” Sarett said into the comm, “They are to maintain positioning where they have easy lines of acceleration and fire to the Coalition fleet, but they are not to arm weapons or fire until I give the order to do so. If they are on the receiving end of incoming that is anything less than obvious and coordinated assault, I want them to put [i]Artemis[/i] between themselves and that incoming. Under no circumstances are we to fire first.” She let the comm button up without waiting for a response. She was aware that Tolliver would hate that order with every fiber of his being, but she also knew he would obey it.

That would at least keep [i]Artemis[/i] from being the ship that re-ignited the war. The action felt almost pointless; she wasn’t the commander of this expedition. That was the Admiral aboard the [i]Terracotta[/i].

“Ava, you’re sending our data to the flagship?” Sarett said, aloud.

“Yes ma’am,” Ava said over the ship’s speakers, “They’re collating and disseminating the information now.”

“Good,” Sarett said, and ran a hand through her hair. She looked at Tanner, “Contact Fleet Command. We need to talk.”