She emerged from metaspace into the outer reaches of the Migdala system, five hundred million kilometres from the single yellow sun and at an angle of seventy degrees to the ecliptic plane.
She began to suck in telemetry. Ondo had been right: instead of a single Cathedral ship in orbit, there were three of the vessels, moving in close formation around the planet on an equatorial orbit. At this distance, she was seeing images of events that had taken place twenty minutes previously. She waited twice that long, drifting under reaction drive, metaspace projectors spun-up in case attack ships showed up at her coordinates.
“We need to plot a course down to the surface,” she said to the ship. “A vector that takes us through the defence network but that gets me close to Senefore.” She didn"t
