"Got some heat signatures," Juggler reported from behind him. "Some of those craft down there are already gearing up."

"Looks like word of our arrival's getting around," Gusto added.

"Can't fault their communications any," Taoka said, calling up the image of the vehicles they'd just passed. "Lucky for us they're not too swift on the uptake."

"They're swift enough," Crossfire cut in. "Argus has two groups incoming: twenty and forty degrees, two hundred klicks range. Intercept vectors."

Taoka smiled grimly. Finally: a direct enemy threat. "All right, Samurai group. You wanted it; you got it. All Copperheads, go to X."

"Signal from Samurai group, Commodore," the fighter commander called from across the Trafalgar's bridge. "They have incoming bogies. Samurai's ordered them to Level X."

"Acknowledged, Schweighofer," Commodore Lord Alexander Montgomery said, running his eyes over the outer scan displays for probably the hundredth time since launching the probe teams. Peacekeeper Command had assured him that their sudden arrival would probably catch the enemy off guard; but Peacekeeper Command's collective hindquarters weren't on the line here. His were, and he had no intention of losing them or his task force to the Zhirrzh. Certainly not the way Trev Dyami had lost the Jutland. "Smith, do we still have visual on the outriders?" he called across the bridge.

"Yes, sir," the force coordination officer called back. "Visual and lasercom both. Still no enemy response."

"That won't last much longer," Captain Thomas Germaine murmured from the fleet exec's chair beside Montgomery. "They must have something in this system that can fight. Only question is where they're hiding it."