Nemesis

Mark Verheul's last clear memory is a Tuesday morning on the A20, a grey Dutch sky, the radio on low.

She woke up somewhere else. A different body. A different century. An AI who needed a human to fix her ship, and had run out of better options.

The ship is damaged. The colony she was carrying has been drifting in stasis for a hundred and thirty years. The civilisation they were supposed to reach has already been found, and deliberately knocked back to rubble, by something that didn't want humanity in the neighbourhood.

One ship. An AI who named herself after the goddess who delivers what is deserved. Alien weapons they're still learning to use. An enemy with a fleet, a political grievance, and a hundred-year head start.

They have a fold drive and no patience left.