“It has to be that bastard, Ferox!” Grimshine yells to the ceiling as though it could hear her better than Zoe.
“You know as well as I do that if it was him, he'd be taking all the credit for it and rubbing it in our faces,” replies Zoe, tired of hearing Grimshine’s voice echoing through the hull.
“Then who the hell is it?”
“It’s coming from the North, and even Ferox wouldn’t be that stupid to head into that territory with both us and the Dracs occupying it.”
“So it's Dracs!”
“I didn’t say that,” Zoe sighs in frustration.
“So what are you saying?”
“I don’t know, damn it!” Zoe yells as she slams her fists on the war table, scattering pieces placed on a map.
Knowing she pushed too far, Grimshine puts her hands up and paces to the other end of the room, holding her tongue between her teeth.
Zoe takes a deep breath. “Let’s go over the details.”
“Again? Fleets go north, then they just decide to disappear, never to return, “Grimshine replies clearly frustrated.
“Greta and the Dracs are hurting and have every reason for revenge after we savaged their fleets, but there’s no way what she has left could wipe out whole installations or fleets. She’d also hang herself by her catsuit before teaming up with anyone. The Reavers want revenge for us beating them recently, but they’re too busy licking their wounds. Scourge is too busy down south fighting the Forsaken.”
“So who is it then?” Asks Grimshine finally calming down.
“I think it’s someone else. Something we haven’t seen before.”
A knock at the door breaks Zoe out of her train of thought. “Come in,” she commands.
A Legion communications officer enters with a confused look on her face. “We’re being hailed, ma’am.”
“Tell them we’ll call them back!” Grimshine yells and scolds the officer, “You know not to interrupt a captains’ meeting.”.
“I think you’re going to want to take this, ma’am, “the officer replies. “It’s Captain Harlock.”
Grimshine and Zoe lock eyes. If Harlock is calling after months of being at each other’s throats, it must be worse than they thought.