The Menaion cruised towards the rogue asteroid. Captain Spinta knew her destroyer could redirect the asteroid into a permanent orbit around the colony world. In a few years the colony could start to mine it for the metals a long-distance spectroscopic scan had confirmed existed in its crust.

Factory had produced a net that would wrap itself around the asteroid as well as five independent drive units which the crew of the destroyer would attach to the rock surface.

The net, made of carbon monofilament, would hold the asteroid together when the drive units fired to redirect the path of the space rock. It wouldn’t do to have the single dangerous rock become twenty or so only slightly less dangerous rocks, all still headed for the colony.

This was another reason for not blowing up the asteroid. There was no telling how much of the asteroid would keep going towards the colony, no way of predicting if the Fleet could find and destroy any dangerous fragments in time.

The first step would be to match velocities with the asteroid. Then the net would be launched.

* * *

The drone did not wait. Being incapable of any sort of independent thought, of anything resembling anticipation, it simply followed whatever pre-programmed plan of action fit the situation.

It was a huge and incredibly complex vermin trap. When the vermin touched a trigger, the trap would close, would kill without hatred or malice or thought or hesitation.

One of the smaller pre-dead ships ambled towards it, matching its current relative velocity. Sooner or later, the ship would trigger the trap, only the details of how the pre-dead would finally be converted would vary.

One by one, the plans were sorted, discarded or readied. Quickly, the potential plans of action were reduced from thousands to hundreds to dozens . . .

The small pre-dead ship launched a cumbersome bundle at the drone.

The drone scanned the bundle: not a bomb, not a thruster.

It was a net or a bag to hold the asteroid together while the pre-dead moved it.

Only one plan of action fit the circumstances.

A column of light, invisible in vacuum, lanced from a hidden projector in the side of the drone. The bundle exploded, evaporated. The gas from it sparkled, reflecting the hitherto unseen red light in a glorious display, a display which neither the drone nor the pre-dead appreciated.

Even as the net was destroyed, the drone turned on its engines, beginning its final, suicidal rush towards the colony.

It could have destroyed the small ship, but that would consume munitions it would need later to ensure the completion of its mission. Better to leave the small ship behind to be dealt with later.

* * *

Captain Spinta stared at the holoscreen in total disbelief. The net-bundle was now an expanding cloud of gas, a column of white fire had erupted from the rear of the asteroid. The asteroid began to pull away from the destroyer, accelerating towards the Fleet, towards the Colony.

Spinta turned to her Science Officer. All color had drained from the old Maker’s face, something which Spinta recalled was a sign of shock, of fear. Entirely appropriate emotions for the circumstances, but Spinta, as Captain, had to portray only steely resolve, absolute control for the sake of the crew’s morale.

Some days this was easier than others.

“Aludel!” squeaked Spinta. Spinta cleared her throat and resumed in her normal voice. “Aludel! What is that?!?”

Aludel turned to her, his eyes haunted. “Captain, I believe it is a weapon. And it is aimed at the colony planet.”

Spinta froze for a moment, staring at the holoscreen. Everything seemed to slow to a stop, giving her the time she needed for her years of training to kick in. In a very calm voice she said: “Cacophony: Broadcast to the Fleet: ‘Code Zed. I say again, Code Zed.’ Cacophony: Broadcast to the Fleet everything we pick up on our sensors and any additional information approved by me or by Science Officer Aludel or deemed useful by yourself.”

Spinta continued. “Guns. Prepare and secure anti-matter warheads, two, no three per launcher. Crew. Prepare for maximum acceleration as soon as the warheads are ready. We’re going hunting.”