"Starfury One," said Ivanova, "scramble for reconnaissance—code ten—grid alpha 136. Also, search and rescue, go to grid alpha 136."
"There's nothing left of it," said one stunned tech. "There's not enough left to fill a thimble."
Nobody was going to rescind the order to send a Star-fury and a rescue team, but it certainly looked pointless. A few seconds later, a tech announced that the Starfury was away and circling the coordinates. The rescue team was getting suited up for a space-walk.
Captain Sheridan tapped his link and spoke into the back of his hand. "Sheridan to Garibaldi, come in."
"Yes, sir," said the security chief, sounding a little groggy, as if he'd been taking a nap.
"There's been a terrible accident." Sheridan glanced at Ivanova. "At least we think it's an accident."
"A plasma charge on the main reactor would do that," she said.
Sheridan heaved his shoulders. "Anyway, Chief, G'Kar is dead."
"What!" blurted Garibaldi. "How?"
"Meet me in C-and-C," grumbled Sheridan. "Out."
"Starfury One reporting." Everyone's attention turned to the sleek, quad-winged fighter on the overhead screen. A moment later, that image was replaced by a young man in a helmet. Warren Keffer's face was obscured by the reflections on his faceplate, but Ivanova could still see the worry under the plexiglass.
"Report," she said.
Keffer studied his instruments. "I'm picking up lots of trace elements, residual gases, and a pocket of radiation. I see exactly where the explosion took place, but if you're looking for survivors ... forget it. We'll be lucky to find any debris at all."
Ivanova nodded grimly, having expected the worst. She glanced at Captain Sheridan, and his usually unruffled face looked shocked and gaunt. That confirmed it.