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And she had heard nothing back from the other Moffs she had contacted.

She went over the list of ships, noting those that were wrecked hulks, those with minor damage, and those still in fighting form. Her eye fell on one of Lecersen’s ships, and she pressed her lips together as an idea came to her. It might not work—but it was certainly worth a try.

“Contact Lecersen right away. I have a rather unusual use for his Interdictor-class cruiser.”

As Jag strode onto the Bloodfin bridge, both Ashik and Vitor Reige snapped salutes. Jag returned them, smiled and nodded at Ashik, then offered Reige his hand. The dark-haired admiral grasped it firmly, his sharp blue eyes meeting Jag’s evenly.

“Welcome aboard, Head of State. Your … charge has preceded you. She is currently in our brig.”

Jag nodded; it was to be expected. Vitor Reige had been Gilad Pellaeon’s protégé, and while he had been apprised of the current unique situation with Tahiri, it was no surprise that he had put the “prisoner” somewhere he deemed safe until Jag had arrived.

“You may release her back into my custody, Admiral. Thank you for your very timely rescue. What’s our status?”

“We are continuing to rescue the crew of the Pellaeon,” Reige said. “I’ve prepared a damage report for you. We—”

“Sir!” came a startled yelp. A young, red-haired human, presumably Reige’s aide, was pointing at the viewport. “The pieces of the moon—they’re moving!”

“Of course they’re moving, they …” Reige fell silent, staring.

The pieces of Boreleo weren’t moving. They were being moved.

Jag, Ashik, and Reige all stepped closer to the viewport, almost unaware of what they were doing. Jag watched, disbelieving, as an Interdictor-class cruiser used its gravity-well projector to pull pieces of the shattered moon into various positions.

“That ship belongs to Lecersen, not Daala,” said Ashik.

“And he’s moving what’s left of Boreleo into a blockade,” snapped Jag. “He’s going to barricade himself and some others inside.”

“We hid inside the moon, now they’re going to,” Tahiri said. “That sounds like something Daala would do.”

“Not if I can help it,” Jag said, grimly. “Admiral, you now have one target above all others. Stop that Interceptor!”

Daala watched, relief battling worry as the Kagcatcher’s crew positioned the four gravity wells to draw pieces of a dead moon into a shield. They would be protected, but they would also be trapped, and as soon as Jag caught on to what they would doing, he would target the Kagcatcher. The savior ship would likely become a metal coffin, and the rest of her fleet would be bombarded, unless she surrendered.

But there had been no alternative. This at least would buy her some time and, if her Moffs did decide to stay loyal to her, could be the thing that saved them. The Chimaera, Lecersen’s Empire Maker, and Vansyn’s Wyvard, along with a not-insignificant number of the original fleet, were clustered together. Daala watched as the chunks of moon were slowly but inexorably maneuvered into position about them. They were not puzzle pieces, not quite, but the Kagcatcher was doing an admirable job of closing the cracks.

Outside the growing shell of a broken moon, Daala caught glimpses of the battle that still raged outside. Now and then, a few of her fleet’s starfighters zipped through what openings there were. At first, they were followed by Jag’s fighters, but those were easily picked off, and soon stopped coming altogether.

“Now what, Admiral?” asked Remal.

“Now,” Daala said, “we wait.”

“We could finish them off, sir,” Ashik said. “Simply start hammering away at the pieces of the moon. They are completely trapped and helpless.”

“Trapped, yes, helpless, no,” Tahiri said. Jag had brought her up to speed as soon as she’d rejoined him. “I’m certain Daala has sent out a call for reinforcements. Getelles told us that this was just the gathering of her local resources. They could be here at any minute.”

“At any minute, or not at all. We can do the same,