Could they have missed? Draycos suggested doubtfully. That tingle felt rather like a near miss.
That was no miss, near or otherwise, Jack said firmly. I saw it go through me. I felt it go through me.
Then I have no idea, Draycos conceded.
"Jack?" Uncle Virge asked tentatively. "Are you all right, lad?"
"Apparently so, Uncle Virge," Jack assured him. He blinked once, shook his head to clear it, and for the first time since the Death had passed through him he focused on the view through the Essenay's canopy.
Not surprisingly, he'd let go of the yoke when the Death hit. As a result, the Essenay was more or less in drift mode, its nose angling off its original course, its engines backed off to half speed. The drive glows of the Foxwolf and Advocatus Diaboli were already a good distance ahead, still heading for the refugee fleet.
And then, as he watched, the Advocatus Diaboli detached itself from the larger ship and started an almost leisurely curve to the side. "Neverlin's pulling away," he announced.
Weight came onto his shoulder as Draycos raised his head for a look. "What do you think?" Jack asked. "Mechanical trouble?"
"I'm not reading anything obvious," Uncle Virge said. "But those five Djinn-90s that used to be riding wide cover have also turned around. Maybe they're all heading back to deal with the Malison Ring and Braxton Universis ships coming up behind us."
"The what?" Jack demanded, looking at the aft display and keying for a tactical overlay. There were new drive glows back there, all right, coming up fast behind them.
He looked back at the Advocatus Diaboli. It was halfway through its curve, still looking like it wasn't in any particular hurry to take the Death to the incoming ships.
He probably isn't in a hurry, Draycos pointed out. He'll want to make sure the Djinn-90s are in position to give him cover before he gets within range of the attackers' weapons.
That sounds like Neverlin, Jack thought back. On the other hand, the Advocatus Diaboli's leisurely turn, coupled with the Essenay's own drifting course . . .
"Okay," he said aloud. "Here's what we do. Uncle Virge, plot me an intercept course with the Advocatus Diaboli—minimum time, maximum surprise, and I want to end up running parallel along its flank."
"Jack lad, this is insane," Uncle Virge protested. "As soon as Neverlin sees you moving, he'll fire the Death at us again. You and Draycos were lucky once. You can't count on being lucky again."
"It wasn't luck," Jack insisted. "I don't know what it was, but it wasn't luck."
"But how will this gain us anything?"
"I'm going to try for a crash-dock," Jack said. "Hopefully, before they can figure out what we're doing and get the hatchway blocked. If we can get inside and stop the jamming, we can finally warn everyone about the Death weapons."
"If you survive," Uncle Virge said stiffly. "You may be somehow immune to the Death, but I doubt that'll carry over to old-fashioned gunfire."
"Probably not," Jack agreed. "If we don't make it, you'll have to warn them. Draycos?"
"I'm with you, Jack," the K'da said.
As if Jack had had any doubts on that score. "Okay, Uncle Virge, ball's in your court."
The computer speaker gave a long, pained sigh. "Course plotted and ready, Jack lad. But even minimum-time approach will take you a few minutes to get there."
"Good enough." Jack got a grip on the control yoke, glancing over the course details as Uncle Virge scrolled them across the navigational display. "Okay, Neverlin. Here we come, ready or not."
". . . so Frost knows about everything you had in that big walk-in safe," Alison concluded. "I know he found out about the KK-29 patrol ships from the information in your office safe. I'm sure the papers in the big one were even more interesting."
The wary anticipation in Neverlin's eyes darkened into anger. "That's it?" he demanded. "That's your big impressive secret?"
"Not all of it, no," Alison stalled. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Frost and the Advocatus Diaboli's captain conferring behind the helmsman. Still too close to the communications section of the board. "I also know Braxton has been monitoring Jack Morgan's movements, including his little side trips to Rho Scorvi and Semaline. How could he have done that without someone in Frost's group feeding him information?"
"With Braxton's resources?" Neverlin said with a snort. "He could have found Morgan in any of a dozen ways."
"I'm just saying there are things going on under the radar," Alison said. Across the bridge, Frost and the captain moved a few feet over to study the sensor station's tactical displays.
And it was time.
Alison braced herself for action. She was probably about to die, she knew. Chances were she would die without even accomplishing her goal.
But she had to try. She could only hope Taneem would understand why she'd done it.
"This is nonsense," Neverlin declared. "And you're wasting my time." Lifting his eyes, he beckoned her guards forward again.
And as he did, Alison ducked down, rammed her shoulder into his chest as hard as she could, and charged toward the communications board.
But she'd only gone two steps before a hand grabbed her forearm from behind. She tried to twist away, but the grip was solid, bringing her desperate rush to a sudden halt. The hand yanked at her, spinning her around again.
"You little fool," Neverlin said, his free hand pressed against his chest where her shoulder had rammed him. "Did you think I wasn't expecting something like that?"
He let go as her two Malison Ring guards caught up and locked their own massive hands around her upper arms. "What happened?" Frost demanded, hurrying up to them.
"She tried to get to the jamming control," Neverlin told him. "Probably figured that the Essenay's computer would spot that the bubble was down and send out a warning."
Frost glowered at Alison. "With your permission, sir, I think we've had enough of Alison Kayna for one day."
"Agreed," Neverlin said. "Take her to her stateroom—"
With a horrible screech of shredded metal, the ventilation duct across the bridge disintegrated.
And a black-scaled fury hurled herself into the room.
The bridge exploded in pandemonium. Neverlin shouted something incomprehensible, practically falling over as he backed hurriedly away. The hands gripping Alison's arms were suddenly gone as the soldiers went for their guns. Frost had the presence of mind to grab Alison's shirt collar with his left hand as he went for his own gun with his right.
But Taneem hadn't come for vengeance or war. That single leap landed her on the deck beside the communications board.
And with three slashes of her claws she disintegrated the section that controlled the radio bubble.
"You got it!" Alison called to her, twisting around in Frost's grip and kicking hard into the side of his knee. He spun halfway around, grunting in pain as his shot buried itself in the bridge ceiling instead of Taneem. "Now get out of here!" Alison shouted as she bounced her shoulders sideways off her two Malison Ring guards, trying to wreck their aims, too. "Go somewhere safe and hide. Go!"
Taneem's silver eyes flicked once to her. Then, to Alison's relief, the K'da bounded back up through the shredded grille and disappeared down the duct.