Two landers came toward them. One was low and breaking for a landing in front of them. The other was higher. It fired as it crossed over them. Its rockets flew past them and vanished beyond the ridge.
And were quickly followed by a huge explosion that kept on going for most of a minute. “I’d say that got the antimatter pod and the underwing armament,” Kris said.
“And those aliens that were following us,” Nelly said. “Two of their gun rigs were stopped, looking at the GAC. Two others were headed for us. Not anymore.”
Kris waved as the lander came to a halt. From its aft ramp, two gun trucks full of Marines drove out and hightailed it across the dusty yellow plain toward the two downed flyers. Behind them, they left a plume in the thin air that might have mattered if the lander’s sister hadn’t settled a lot of alien hash.
Three minutes later, under the alert eye of a gunner at a rocket launcher, a medic was bagging Kris’s burned hand. Something in the bag made the pain go away. She relaxed into the backseat of the gun truck as it made best speed for the lander.
“Another day, and I’m not dead yet,” she muttered.
“Not for a lack of trying,” Jack added.
“We stopped the Marines from landing into a trap,” Kris pointed out.
“What is it with these jokers?” Jack asked no one in particular. “They won’t talk to us. They cram all sorts of armament into a small little mining outpost, and did I mention, they won’t say a word to us.”
“I think you did, Jack,” Kris said. Another try at talking to them and another complete failure. Another encounter and another fight. What was it with these people?
She was about to go to war with an entire alien race, and she had no idea why. Or what they were. Or what they wanted.
Well, she did know something. They didn’t want to talk. And they wanted her dead. Her and anyone else they met.
This was crazy.
An observation that she was pretty sure her grampa Ray had made several times as he fought the Iteeche.
The takeoff run gave Kris a good look at the alien site. It boiled like an active volcano. Of the two buildings, not a stick remained. Of the people who had rushed out to defend it, not so much as a single body. The rock ran like flaming lava from the pounding it had taken from Greenfeld lasers.
The flight back to the Wasp was short and silent.
40
The Wasp had already broken orbit by the time Kris got back to the bridge.
“Prepare for high-gee acceleration,” Sulwan announced from the navigator’s chair.
“Let’s get to that jump point,” Captain Drago said. “We’ve wasted enough time on this distraction.”
“Did they get off any warning message?” Kris asked.
“We can’t tell for sure, but they don’t seem to leave message buoys at the jump points. At least, we’ve never seen one,” Drago said. “I checked with the other corvette skippers. None of us saw anything at any of our jumps.”
“So there’s not a web of trade or anything like that,” Kris said.
“Lonely and solitary,” Penny said. “That’s the life they seem to lead.”
The rest of the battle fleet followed the Wasp’s lead, hard acceleration until they were halfway to the jump point, then hard deceleration the rest of the way. Several hours later, the Wasp came to a halt a few kilometers from the jump point and launched the periscope to take a glance through.
“Nothing,” Chief Beni reported once the electromagnetic sensor was through the jump point. “There’s a sun making the usual noises and nothing else. We got here ahead of the hostiles.”
They had won one gamble but must now take another.
If the aliens had beaten them into the system, Kris would very likely have called it quits. There was no way she could risk a long approach course toward the huge mother ship. Kris had to get in position to blast the mother ship, hopefully with its swarm of deployable ships still aboard. Otherwise, those ships, each several times the size of a battleship, would maul Kris’s tiny fleet before it could so much as dent them.
Kris ordered her fleet through the jump into the next system. There, they’d make a mad dash to the jump the aliens would be entering from. If they got there first, they could set up an ambush.
If the aliens came through the jump before they got there, Kris would have to give the order to run for it.
And some very nasty aliens would know there was a starfaring race out here that they should hunt down and destroy.
Well, they’d encountered the Hornet before.
One small scout was one thing. It could be ignored. Eight large battleships would be something else entirely.
Kris led PatRon 10 through the jump, the tiny Hermes trailing only behind the Wasp. For her coming role, she’d need to be up front.
Kris found herself holding her breath.
First Sulwan announced that they were in the system they had aimed for.
Then the chief announced that they had the system to themselves. A few minutes later, he reported that all eight battleships had followed PatRon 10 through and were now in the system.
Only then did Kris take a breath.
Krätz had not turned back. For better or worse, Kris would have all the ships she needed for her tragically tiny ambush.
Once again, she was assaulted by the question. What was it in her that pushed her to take the entire human race to war? Not only the humans, but the Iteeche as well, to war with someone they had never met?
Kris had written in her report to King Raymond that she was doing this to save the avian people. She’d never met one of the bird race. She’d seen pictures brought back by the Intrepid . She didn’t know if they were a good people or were just as steeped in evil as the alien mother ship thundering down upon them.
Still, she and her small band of Navy and Marines were willing to risk not only their own lives but the future of their entire race to stop the hostile aliens.
Was it hubris or was it right?
Part of Kris wanted to run home and hide under the bed. She’d done it once, when a soccer game had gone horribly wrong after she’d been so drunk she made a series of stupid blunders. First she fell all over the ball, then she yelled at her team players. Then she screamed at her coach.
When Longknifes screw up, they do it big.
Was she committing the greatest Longknife screwup of all times? Was she about to top even Grampa Ray?
If she kept this up, she’d end up hiding under her bed on the Wasp. Her bunk had pullout storage drawers under it. She’d really have to work to curl up in one of them.
Kris took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
Generations from now, they would still be debating what she did here.
Assuming the human race survived long enough to have more generations.
“Captain Drago, take us to the next jump point at best speed,” she ordered.
A moment later, the Wasp began to accelerate smartly to 3.5 gees. Behind her, a tiny fleet followed.
Kris, and the entire human race, were committed to battle.
41
The Wasp was in free fall, but Kris was tightly strapped into a high-gee station chair, as was everyone else on the ship. At any moment, the Wasp might slam into high-acceleration maneuvers; but for now, it drifted in space, making like a rock.
It even looked like a rock. The defensive shield was deployed, but rather than looking like a parasol with a smooth, reflective surface, it was intentionally textured to resemble the surface of an asteroid. An asteroid that rolled gently as it drifted through space.