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stay on duty until we have more to go on,’ Iyabo said. ‘I’m prioritising it, but putting it on lockdown. I don’t want word of this getting out before we have something firm to take up the chain. I’ll be in touch again in one hour, once I’ve had a chance to take a closer look at this.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Frontier Command out.’

The screen went dark, leaving Samson to digest the reality that if he was wrong about this, he had struck his career the fatal blow. It was a shame they hadn’t been able to hang on to some of the artefacts, but as he’d said to Harper, if they had, they’d all probably be dead now. Still, simply because they’d lost the ones from the Bounty didn’t mean there weren’t more of them out there.

It fed a thought that had been lurking in his head for a while now, but first things first. He accessed the depot’s computer and brought up the details of the Alpha Protocol.

Samson could see why Commodore Iyabo had been so stern with him. The Alpha Protocol was a terrifying piece of legislation, and he could see why they’d need a scapegoat if it was improperly invoked. The emergency powers it conferred to the military were absolute—and, as with any absolute power, that opened the door to potentially horrific misuse.

The emergency powers it provided could be invoked by officers ranked commander and higher without any senior oversight, but the text contained severe censures for application against any officer who invoked it flippantly. Dishonourable discharge would be the best-case scenario in that event.

If Iyabo jumped the gun and invoked it erroneously, his career would be over. Samson’s too. He hoped the data was enough confirm his suspicions. If he was wrong on this, it would mean a court martial. He didn’t reckon he’d manage to avoid one a second time.

The protocol enacted a number of emergency powers to ensure that any alien technology was secured and that information about first contact was disseminated in a controlled and panic-avoiding way. After that, it dealt with first contact and interaction with an alien species until an organised governmental response was formulated. Above all, the protocol was focussed on keeping things quiet and controlled.

Simply not acting on information was enough to bring down its wrath on an officer’s head. It made sitting on the depot waiting for help to seem a very tenuous proposition. Part of him hoped Iyabo would hold off enacting the protocol until the relief ships arrived and someone else could shoulder the responsibility, but Samson was convinced he was right.

He headed for the mess, where the depot’s sensors said everyone had gathered. That involved taking the elevator down a floor and walking one corridor over. They were finishing up a meal when he arrived, reminding him of how much he wanted a decent meal himself.

‘Good news,’ he said. ‘Frontier Command has dispatched two corvettes, the Nautilus and the Peterson. The Peterson should be here within ten days, with the Nautilus following on a few days afterward. I’ve not been given any indication as to what’s to become of us, but I suspect that will be updated when I communicate with Command again.

‘Needless to say, they’re taking this all very seriously. The act of destruction aside, I’ve informed them about the objects.’

There were some murmurs among the crew.

‘I’m afraid I didn’t have time to get into your transfer to the Navy and promotion, Lieutenant Price. I fear your naval career might be short-lived, however.’

Price and the other Marines chuckled.

‘I’ll be speaking with Command again in one hour, once they’ve had a chance to give our data a preliminary review. I’ll keep you all updated.’

17

Samson sat back down in the command centre and waited for the appointed time. He was nervous. If Commodore Iyabo chose to invoke the Alpha Protocol, Samson was going to be on the hook. Even if the objects were what they had seemed to be, even if the warship was an alien vessel, if neither were ever encountered again there would be nothing but his word and a set of falsifiable sensor data.

Samson powered up the Nexus Relay, and logged in. Commodore Iyabo appeared on screen an instant after the ‘successful connection’ message flashed. No waiting around this time, Samson thought. He could see people moving around in the background—far more activity than there had been during his last conversation with the commodore. There was a sense of tense energy in the scene before him—it was an entirely different place than the sleepy monitoring station it had appeared in their first communication.

‘Lieutenant, I’ll cut right to the chase. I’m officially invoking the Alpha Protocol. I’m transmitting the written orders now. As senior officer on station, I task you with protecting all human assets, investigating all incidents of suspected alien presence, and securing all artefacts suspected to be of non-human origin within the sphere of your duty area. You are weapons free on any civilian who interferes with or otherwise obstructs you in carrying out your duties.’

Samson nodded. It seemed like an overwhelming task when read out to him, and a brutal amount of power, but it was a word-for-word reading of one of the Alpha Protocol’s many sections. Surely in reality, there was only so much that could be expected of him. The drafters of the protocol had probably envisaged the senior officer on station as having a small flotilla, at least, at their disposal.

‘I understand, sir. I’ll do my best.’

‘Our analysis of your data indicates the objects you found are definitely not of human origin. The sensor traces of the other vessel seem to indicate the same. I know you haven’t got much to work with, but by the time the Peterson gets to you any trace of this mysterious warship will be gone. We need you to get back out there and gather as much data as you can, while it’s still there.’

‘The Bount—’ Samson began.

‘Will be a more

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