On the 109's left, an armed yacht was doing the same, hugging close enough to give any insurance man a heart attack. Kris wondered how the Coast Guard Reservists, who usually handed out tickets for violating such safety rules, must feel now as they broke them themselves.
She suspected they were getting a huge kick out of it.
''Penny, Moose. You know anything about those battleships that you didn't know before?''
The older fellow raised an eyebrow at Penny. She nodded his way. ''I wish I could tell you something, ma'am,'' he said, ''but now that they've lit up their active lasers and radar, all I'm getting from them is what I'd expect to get from one mean and nasty Wilson-class battlewagon. Now, these are from Greenfeld, not Earth, so there's bound to be some differences in them, but so far, I can't tell you anything more than what we pretty much knew when they first popped in system. They're big. They can do a lot of damage, and they are probably lugging a lot of ice.''
Kris nodded. Off to the right, two freighters and those three lost runabouts of Division Seven boosted toward Jump Point Beta and the intruders. Van Horn hadn't told her what he planned from the freighters. Having some ships take an early swipe at the battleships looked like a good idea. Whoever commanded the invaders was playing his cards close to his vest, not even broadcasting his ultimatum now. A batch of missiles might force his hand. Part of it. She listened to the music for a moment.
Close your mind to stress and pain,
Fight till You're No Longer Sane
Let not one damn cur pass by,
How Many of Them Can We Make Die!
Yes, but her lost division? What did they think they were doing? Time passed with no answers, the ships did their flip, going from accelerating toward the moon at one g to decelerating into lunar orbit at one g. It was not easy, because Sandy wanted to keep the Halsey firing and spreading ''fairy dust'' as she called her chaff. First the Halsey flipped, then the Cushing, then Captain Luna's ''cruiser,'' and so on. And, in their shadow, each of the PFs and each of their yachts or runabouts. One of the yachts slipped up, flipped late. If that told the enemy anything, it didn't matter. They were on a course set by the laws of gravity and physics. In time they would collide, and then other laws of thermodynamics and light would apply. Everything was governed by laws.
Except the outcome. That would be governed by lasers and luck. And raw human willpower.
Kris sat with a lot less to do than Tom, who walked his bridge, occasionally checked with his other stations, making sure the 109 was ready for what was to come. Kris could do nothing but sit tight and wait. NELLY, DO YOU HAVE ALL YOUR EVASION SCHEMES DONE?
DONE, DISTRIBUTED, CHECKED, DOUBLE-CHECKED, AND RECHECKED. KRIS, THERE IS NOTHING TO DO, AND I WANT TO DO SOMETHING.
WE ALL DO, NELLY, BUT THERE IS NOTHING TO DO BUT WAIT.
I DO NOT LIKE WAITING.
NEITHER DO WE.
''Take your seats, folks; we're going to be going to zero g for a while,'' Tom announced as they approached Milna. Kris checked her seat belt. It was already as tight as it would go.
''Like why are we even here?'' Adorable Dora complained. ''I'm not close enough to the action … if there was any … to get pictures. All I'm hearing is that lame song. What's going on!''
''Nothing,'' Jack said, trying to stay as calm as the circumstances would allow, and finding they didn't allow all that much. Kris was up ahead, doing her best to get herself blown to atoms, and he was back here baby-sitting a woman who never lacked for something to complain about.
He'd thought that walking beside Kris as she played target to half the universe was the worst part of knowing the woman, but he was wrong. Here, tagging along behind her as she did what she wanted, led a tiny bunch of optimists out against impossible odds, this had to be the worst day of his life.
''Well, can't we do something?''
''No,'' Jack said. ''She is up there. We are back here. They are about to go behind the moon. While they're behind it, if something comes from Wardhaven, it will be our job to transmit it to them. Now, why don't you sit down and compose something.''
''I never compose. I'm perfect in my spontaneity. It says so in all my reviews.'' Not in the ones Jack read, but now was no time to educate someone who was oblivious to most of her life.
Jack sat, composed himself, and watched the carrier wave on the tight beam between High Wardhaven and their boat, between Kris's fleet and their boat. Nothing.
Kris watched as Milna slid between them and the intruders. With the moon's solid bulk blocking observation, it was time to act. ''Task Force Custer, may I suggest you edge further into the lead, say ten or fifteen thousand klicks ahead of us, tossing rockets up his rear at his vulnerable motors. Any discussion?'' Kris offered as she finished.
''It'll be harder to keep them in sparkles,'' Sandy said.
''I think we've kept them in the dark as long as we can,'' van Horn answered. ''We're forty-eight minutes from Task Group Reno doing its thing. Once they do, I doubt there will be all that much question that some of us are playing the missile arsenal role. I concur with Princess Longknife's orders. We'll do a quick burn, take a lower orbit, and come out ahead of you two.''
''Singh, follow Custer. I want you offset when we start.''
''Understood. We stay with Custer. Use him as our kick-off point. Has Nelly included this in our plan of approach?''
YES, I HAVE, Nelly answered.
''She has. If you are too far off, we will make adjustments.''
I INCLUDED OPTIONS FOR THEM TO BE AS FAR AS 150,000 KLICKS.
THANK YOU, GIRL. AND THANK YOU FOR KEEPING IT JUST BETWEEN US GIRLS.
YOU ARE WELCOME.
''Horatio, stay behind Custer and keep faking it as a gun line as long as possible. I will launch the Light Brigade's attack ten minutes after the Reno attacks. I want Divisions 4, 5, and 6 to hold at the line of departure and stay with Horatio.''
''Why?'' came from an unidentified boat, but Kris suspected it was being asked on every one of them.
''Because I still don't know enough about these battleships. If the Reno attack tells us something, I may give you different orders at the last minute, but just now, I want to save you for the final attack as they're coming up on the station.''
''I thought you wanted to have this settled before the station guns started shooting at all of us?''
''I wanted a lot of things,'' Kris snapped. She paused. The song on net was coming up on ''Follow orders as your told, / Make Their Yellow Blood Run Cold.'' ''What part of following orders don't you understand? Division 7 didn't follow orders. What's about to happen to them is going to be ugly. You going to do what you're told, or you want to get out and start walking back? Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got this battle to manage.''
''Horatio, Custer, Squadron 8 will do a loop around Wardhaven after our attack. That'll have me coming back at the battleships at a steep angle. You see a problem with that?''
''It should make it easier for the tugs to capture you,'' van Horn said. ''And for you to make a lunar orbit after your second attack. With you attacking earlier, it'll work better that way.''
''Fine,'' Kris said. NELLY, ORGANIZE THE ORDERS FOR THE TUGS, SEND THEM TIGHT BEAM TO JACK, AND LET ME KNOW WHEN HE ACKNOWLEDGES SENDING THEM ON TO HIGH WARDHAVEN.