7
“Yo, Beau, you’re not going to believe this. Are you sitting down?” Grayson asked.
From the bridge of the small civilian ship, Grayson borrowed Raul’s radio. He was hunched over the passenger seat with the headset to his ear.
Beauregard’s voice came through staticky.
“Good to hear from you, Grayson,” Beau said. “What’s going on?”
Grayson looked out the window, where a steady stream of gray Argus ships streamed by. Gray and light, like paper airplanes, with blinking noses, they sped through the galaxy. A pig’s voice grunted on the secondary radio, as if it were giving the other Argus ships a pep talk. The sounds made Grayson wince.
“What’s that I hear?” Beau asked.
“You’re gonna want to get Commander Ponty online,” Grayson said. “We’ve got an Argus problem.”
“Arguses? Where?”
“So
