“Nezdeh, I await your orders,” Tegrese said urgently.
“I am waiting — for that.” Nezdeh pointed in the holotank; the orange delta signifying the human warship spat out an identically-hued spark at Red Lurker. “The humans have launched a missile. No, correction: given its size and complexity, it is a drone.”
“It is not homing.”
“It does not need to, not yet. We have an active sensor lock on the Slaasriithi ship, so they have simply established a reciprocal lock along our emission. We are doing the drone’s work for it. And as for the Aboriginals’ other weapons—”
Red Lurker shuddered. Sehtrek looked up. “Lasers. Two hits. Low power beams, visible wavelength. Highly diffused at this range.”
Tegrese had apparently forgotten she was speaking to a Srina. “What are you waiting for, Nezdeh? They could destroy—!”
Nezdeh turned, fixed her with a stare, regretted taking the seconds to deal with Tegrese. But the loss of some additional paint and laser-ablative layering was nothing compared to losing even one iota of dominion. “The Aboriginals cannot destroy us with their laser at this range. Which you would know if you had the proper mastery of your station. We have exhaustive data on their technology. Or had you forgotten that, along with your deference?”
Tegrese’s eyes widened, then tightened and grew tense crow’s-feet at their corners, but finally, her gaze lowered. “My apologies for both transgressions, Srina Perekmeres.”
“I shall forgive them both, this one time. Now: adjust railgun targeting to correct mean point of impact to the engines on the Slaasriithi shift cruiser.”
Sehtrek leaned closely over his readouts. “Nezdeh, the forward sections of the Slaasriithi craft are beginning to receive power again. She has just illuminated active sensors.”
Keeping the tactical initiative was looking ever-more questionable. “Portside lasers are to target the Aboriginal corvette. Commence fire as soon as you have an eighty percent confidence solution.”
“And their drone?”
“Shift one of our starboard laser blisters to PDF mode and commence streaming interception fire immediately. Inform me when it is neutralized.”
Tegrese’s voice was careful. “I mean no disrespect, but I must confirm: do you intend to dedicate only two starboard laser blisters to the closest cannonball?”
“Yes. Regaining control of this engagement means reducing the number of opposing threats. The human corvette will be the easiest to eliminate, and in so doing, we also complete part of our mission. We will then be able to reconcentrate on the more difficult targets.”
“And the human shuttle?”
Nezdeh resisted the urge to close her eyes in frustration. “The debris, range, and other threats are too great for us to engage it now.”
“We could use our own missiles to—”
“No: we must launch a full spread of missiles at the Slaasriithi before she is able to reemploy her own lasers in the point-defense fire mode. Once her PDF systems are active, we will be as powerless to damage her as the humans are powerless to damage us.” She glanced at the lead cannonball; it still had not fired. Which bothered her. “Commence all attacks,” she ordered.
* * *
As soon as the shuttle’s rapid acceleration down toward Disparity settled into a consistent trajectory, Caine unbuckled and struggled forward against the two gees to reach the bridge’s iris valve. He triggered it, pushed into one of the two support seats, nodded to Raskolnikov and Qin, who spared one precious second to nod back at him. “I understand there was gunfire back in the rear airlock, Captain.”
“There was. And three bodies.”
“Do you have any idea what happened?”
“Not yet,” Riordan admitted as he strapped into his new seat. “Except that I don’t believe the setup.”
“The setup?” Qin echoed.
“The way the bodies are set up to make it appear as if they all killed each other. It looks plausible enough forensically, but I don’t buy the scenario. It’s extremely rare that everyone in a gunfight winds up dead. But we’ll figure that out later. If we get the chance.”
Raskolnikov turned a rueful smile back at him. “So you have seen top side of our lifting surface?”
Riordan nodded. “Took some hits from that debris you dodged.”
“Not me. That was Lieutenant Qin. She got us out of that mess.”
“Not entirely,” Qin grumbled. “My apologies, Commander Raskolnikov. I am afraid I have made your job much harder.”
“This?” Raskolnikov smiled broadly as he tilted his head at the pockmarked portside “wing” of the shuttle. It was one of those “so we die? so what?” smiles that Caine had seen on the faces of too many fatalistic Russians over the past two years. “This is not so bad,” Raskolnikov asserted. “We will keep nose up and minimize atmospheric heating on damaged area. You will see: all shall be well.”
And if it isn’t, who’ll be left to call you a bullshitter? But what Caine said was: “How soon before the ride gets rough?”
“Soon, Captain. You should return to seat.”
Caine shook his head. “I need the radio for a minute.”
Both pilots shrugged, scanned their mostly-green system monitors, began checking for ground beacons or automated telemetry feeds guiding them toward approach paths: neither one was showing up on their instruments.
Caine snagged a thin-line headset, activated a secure channel to Puller, scanned the black vault above them. Well away from the Slaasriithi ship, the corvette’s twin, blue-white thrusters brightened — just as its hull seemed to flare. One engine went dark and Puller started to lose way, veering closer to the planet. “Bannor!”
A moment of paralyzing silence was supplanted by static and then an open channel. “Caine? Glad to hear you guys are okay. Heading planetside?”
“Screw the small talk. What the hell are you doing?”
“Helping our hosts, sir.”
“Damn it; you are to go dark, break contact, and run like hell.”
“Sir, with all due respect, mounting a covering attack was within my prerogatives. It ensures that they don’t shoot at you. A logical extension of Mr. Downing’s orders, sir.”
You goddamned barracks-house lawyer. “We’ll argue that some other time. For now, you’ve taken your best shot and given them something to shoot at until Yiithrii’ah’aash got his ship running again. Now, get Puller and your crew out of that battlespace. You’ve already lost one thruster—”
“That’s coming back on line. They didn’t tag us too hard. And now that the Slaasriithi ship is powering up again—”
“Major, before her power comes back, she could take another burst of railgun penetrators to her power plants or engine. Or bridge. And then you’d be stuck facing the attacker on your own.” Riordan dropped his voice. “Bannor, someone has got to live to report this. This shuttle is going down hard and I don’t know how many — if any — of us are going to walk away from it. And remember: this is happening just one system away from the Slaasriithi homeworld.”
Bannor’s reply was not immediate. “Sir, are you thinking that this might be a prelude to a general attack?”
“No. If it was, our first warning would have been an enemy battle cruiser showing up and converting us all into subatomic particles. But it’s equally alarming that someone is playing this kind of hardball deep inside Slaasriithi space for a lesser reason. The Custodians have to be informed, as well as both our government and that of our hosts. And Puller is the only hardened target on this shooting range which just might get out in one piece. You’re small enough and fast enough to hide and survive to tell the tale. So get going. Now.”