Her light settled on a motionless form drifting in the center of the compartment, and she pushed off toward it. Reaching it, she turned the person over. The tactical officer had probably never even known what hit him; his helmet had shattered, and the entire front of his body was a mass of torn and burnt flesh. Luisa pushed away with a cry, sending both of them in opposite directions.An emergency locker door appeared in her light beam, and Luisa made her way toward it and opened it. She extracted an aid kit, and a collapsible pole that would allow her to more easily and safely maneuver in the microgravity of the wrecked ship. She could push off, use the grabbers at each end to pull herself along, and rotate the pole to spin her body in the opposite direction.She moved around the airless compartment, checking each person in turn. Of the dozen people on the flag bridge besides herself and Aaron, Luisa found four survivors, three ratings and the assistant tactical officer. They were all. Of all the places in the world where each of them might be, there were all in Stockholm. Of all the days in the year when they might be in the city, they were there on the same day. Of all moments during the day, they were all present at the same time in the same place. Of all the things they could have done, Vyera was serving dinner looking towards the shore and they were sitting on the shore, looking towards her. Of all the moments when Svetlana Nikitechna could have broken down psychologically, it was at this time, on this day with Vyera and her husband and her parents all present and Anatoly Sergeyevitch's mind wandering elsewhere. And her collar! The 'friend' which was supposed to keep her safe had failed her and had been removed, so she could do her job. With considerable effort, Julia collects herself."I am sorry Anatoly Sergeyevitch. This is indeed a very unfortunate sequence of events."Julia's reaction breaks the tension in the room. Suddenly, now all the cards are on the.
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