“What’s your name, mister?”

Lieutenant Tixia had already dragged the technician to his feet. The alert klaxon had stopped sounding and left only the condition lights bathing the entire installation in shades of red. Yili kept her weapon pointed at him, even though he looked pale and was likely relatively harmless. Suddenly he snapped to attention.

“Corporal Roger Daysmith! Designator Kilowatt Six Zero Eight Four!”

Yili and Zony looked at each other.

“I wish to speak to a neutral representative of–!”

“Relax, corporal. You’re not a prisoner of war,” Yili interrupted.

Daysmith didn’t respond immediately, although by his manner it looked as if he were trying to figure out why two unidentified women were holding him at gunpoint. Yili and Zony retreated a few steps and conferred.

“He’s a Skywatch marine corporal and he doesn’t recognize our uniforms?” Zony whispered. Yili raised an eyebrow.

“What is going on around here?” she asked rhetorically.

“Corporal, what’s your unit and who is your commanding officer?” Yili asked.

Daysmith hesitated. “That information is on a need–”

“I asked you a question, corporal.” The tone in the engineer’s voice left no room for interpretation.

More hesitation.

“Do you not recognize my unit insignia, mister? Just what kind of Skywatch operation promotes someone who doesn’t recognize his own uniforms to corporal?”

“She’s a fleet officer, Daysmith,” Zony added. “And so am I. You don’t get a choice here. What unit are you with?”

“Second squad! Twelfth marine recon!”

“Daysmith if you want to become a prisoner of war you’re well on your way,” Yili replied. “There are three recon divisions. Your unit doesn’t exist. Tell me another story and we’ll just turn you over to Colonel Moody and see what he thinks of guys named Roger who play marine.”

“I have no duty to answer to either of you,” Daysmith sneered.

Yili advanced. “You took a shot at us, ‘corporal.’ Last chance.”

“We are Servants of the Ithis!” Daysmith whispered ominously. His hand went to his mouth. Zony grabbed his wrist, but it was too late. A vial fell from his hand and all three fell to the floor in a desperate scramble. Seconds later, all the color drained from Daysmith’s face and he stopped moving, eyes staring.

Yili slammed her fists against the floor in frustration.

“Back to square one,” Zony said absently.

Lieutenant Curtiss paused, arms around her knees as if either gathering strength or trying to recover from what she had just seen. Perhaps it was a little of both.

“At least now we know who is shooting at us.”