"Dawson, everyone to lifeboats," Buccari shouted over the circuit.

"Commander!" Dawson persisted, her voice uncharacteristically agitated. "We've got a clear language burst transmission from a panic buoy. The task force has jumped, sir. The fleet's gone!"

The ship was silent, the crew rendered speechless—no, breathless! The motherships had departed, gone into the massive distances, back over the measureless hurdle of time. Rescue was light-years away now. It would take months for rescue ships to complete a hyperlight transit cycle. Interminable seconds of silence dragged by.

Buccari slammed a fist on the comm switch and shouted over the general circuit, "Dawson, get your butt in a boat. Rhodes, sync count. We got a bogey inbound!"

Quinn stirred. His hands moved automatically, a robot obeying his program. The enemy ship steadily accelerated, gnawing at the corvette's unwavering vector.

"Hudson! You reading me?" Quinn barked.

"Yes, sir. EPL and lifeboat one ready to go. What's the plan, sir?" came back the disembodied voice. Hudson had moved quickly.

"I was hoping you had a good idea," Quinn replied. "Right now I want you clear. Establish an outbound vector and hold it. Normal transponder codes. Keep in contact. If you don't hear from me in two hours, head back to Earth by yourself. Shouldn't take you more than three or four thousand years. If the bugs pick you up first, remember your manners."

Buccari exhaled through a tight smile and checked tactical. The symbol for a planetary body had been showing up for several hours: Rex-Kaliph Three, the third planet from the system's star.

"R-K Three's coming up in sector two," she said. "Might be reachable."

Quinn nodded. "Hudson, get a downlink from the computer. Check tactical. Sector two. Planet in range. Head for it. Good luck, Ensign. Cleared to launch."