"It's very much my fight," Harper said softly. "Besides, I've already burned all my bridges behind me. I can't be of any more use in this war. But there's a chance you can be."
"But—"
"No buts, soldier," Harper said firmly. "You're still a StarForce officer. Consider this an order."
There was a faint hissing sound as one of the two men exhaled at the comm clip. "Understood, sir," Langston said, his voice stiff and formal and unhappy. "Good luck, sir."
There was a double click as both comm clips shut off. "What the blaze was that all about?" Jack snarled, fear and uncertainty and helplessness rising in his throat and threatening to choke him. "Draycos? What was that all about?"
I don't know, the K'da's voice came grimly in his mind. But nothing good. I'm afraid, Jack, that the battle has begun.
"Hammerfall groups have reached their positions," Frost reported, half-turning to face Neverlin and Alison. "Backstop ready to deploy."
"I trust you approve of our tactical landscape?" Neverlin asked Alison.
He was half-joking, Alison knew. But only half. He and Frost and the Valahgua had clearly worked out all this in advance, probably months ago.
But the opinion of General Davi's daughter was apparently still worth something. Even if only for amusement value. "Looks reasonable enough," she said. "Your three main forces—the Hammerfalls—are set in a wide triangle formation behind you, perfect for herding you toward the refugee fleet. They're also positioned far enough back that they won't overtake you before you get there. That's the tricky part, really—making it look like they're trying to get to you when they really aren't."
"True," Neverlin said. "On the other hand, the K'da and Shontine aren't going to know how fast Djinn-90s, KK-29s, and Rhino-10s can fly"
"Point," Alison conceded. "At the same time, you don't want them so far back that they'll overtake you too slowly. That might give the K'da and Shontine too much time to stop and think while you're barreling toward them."
"Which is the reason for the five Djinn-90s of the Backstop group," Neverlin said, clearly pleased that he and Frost had anticipated that question and had an answer ready for it. "As our supposed rear guard, they can move up toward us if we need the Hammerfall groups to speed up, or else fall back if we need them to slow down."
"Clever," Alison said. She'd already figured that out, actually, but it wouldn't hurt to stroke Neverlin's ego a little. "You can't risk any direct radio communication with the Hammerfall ships—the K'da would definitely find that suspicious if they spotted it. This way all the Hammerfall Leaders have to do is monitor the Backstop group's position relative to the Advocatus Diaboli and they'll know what you want them to do."
"Exactly," Neverlin said. "The Lordhighest doesn't think the fleet would pick up a tight beam pointed at such angles, but it's better to be safe than—"
"Sir!" the Advocatus Diaboli's captain spoke up sharply. "We've got lifepod separation. Number two, port-side bow."
"What?" Neverlin demanded, crossing over to stand behind him. "Who in—?"
"Never mind who," Frost cut him off. "Where's he going?"
"He's curving around," the captain reported, peering at his displays. "Looks like he's trying to—correction: he's curving around again. Picking up speed."
"Evasive!" Frost barked. "Backstop group—emergency close and engage!"
"What's going on?" Neverlin demanded. "Frost?"
"He's going to ram," Frost snarled. "I said evasive, frunge you."
"Trying, sir," the helmsman shot back. "We're not as maneuverable as he is."
"Backstop?" Frost snapped.
"Backstop Leader," a tight voice came back. "We're out of position, Colonel. No way to get to him in time without hitting you."
Frost glared at the displays, muttering under his breath. Then, abruptly, he turned on the Lordhighest. "The Death," he ordered. "Get him with the Death. Now!"
"You do not order us in that tone—"
"To blazes with my tone!" Frost snapped. "Just kill him."
For a moment the Valahgua gazed at him. Then, he muttered a pair of guttural-sounding words toward his shoulder. There was a slight flicker of the bridge lights—
"Got him," the captain announced. "Helm: hard about."
"Too late," Neverlin said, pointing at the display. "He's going to hit."
The captain must have seen that, too. "Collision!" he shouted. "All hands!"
Lunging to the nearest console, Alison grabbed the handgrip and braced herself.
A fraction of a second later, the lifepod hit.
It wasn't a big impact, not nearly as big or violent as Alison had expected. The Advocatus Diaboli shuddered like a dog giving a final shake as it shed the last bit of water after a dip in a cold lake. But the bridge didn't fill with the screaming of the hull-breach alarm, or even the slightly less strident hooting of the decompression warning.
She took a careful breath, feeling slightly ridiculous. Given the urgency of Frost's warning, she'd expected something a lot more dramatic.
Neverlin apparently had, too. "Is that it?" he asked, sounding flustered and more than a little annoyed.
"No, that is not it," Frost bit out. "Captain, get someone to the InterWorld transmitter and shut it down."
"Shut it down?" Neverlin put in. "But it's not on."
"You worthless fool," Frost snarled at him. "What do you think an emergency beacon is?"
Neverlin stiffened. "Oh no."
"Exactly." Snarling a curse, Frost left the bridge at a dead run.
"What has happened?" the Valahgua demanded. "Neverlin, explain."
"Later," Neverlin said, starting to follow Frost.
"Not later," the Valahgua insisted. "Now."
With a visible effort, Neverlin slowed to a stop. "This ship is equipped with an emergency distress beacon," he ground out. "That beacon is connected to our InterWorld transmitter. In an emergency—such as a lifepod ramming our hull—it sends out a signal that anyone within range can pick up."
He glared at Alison. "And can trace."
"Don't look at me," Alison warned. "Whatever happened, it wasn't my—"
She broke off as a brief staccato of shots sounded in the distance. What in the world? "Whatever happened, it wasn't my doing," she went on, fighting to keep her voice calm and even. The daughter of Aram Davi shouldn't be startled by a little random gunfire, after all. "I suggest you or Colonel Frost start by taking a head count and finding out who's missing."
"No need," Neverlin said bitterly. "It was Harper. It had to be him."
Alison felt her stomach tighten. Harper. Of course. "All by himself?" she asked pointedly. "An interesting trick."
"Braxton's full of interesting tricks," Neverlin said. But there was a glint in his eye as his gaze drifted around the bridge.
Across the bridge, the door opened and Frost reappeared. "The transmitter's been shut off," he said. "If we're lucky, we got it fast enough that no one was able to get a solid fix on it."
"That was my transmitter you were shooting at?" Neverlin demanded. "Blast it all, Colonel—"
"Would you rather have Harper's friends drop in on us while we're in the middle of looting the refugee ships?" Frost asked. "If someone followed Harper to Point Two they're only four days away."
Neverlin's lips pressed together into a thin line. "Captain, get your men busy making repairs to the InterWorld transmitter," he growled.
"Yes, sir," the captain said.
Neverlin looked at Alison. "And once it's back together, have them disconnect the emergency beacon system," he added.