The room was filled with chaos just moments later. Susan stood aside as medics rushed to the aid of the wounded. Gabriel watched the personnel carry off Elder Miller and Commander Mesic. Keeper Schreiber was escorted away as well, though he seemed more shaken than hurt. Both dead Directorate guards and the fallen Wayfarer escort were carried respectfully to the morgue once they had been checked for signs of life.
The Wayfarers were less careful in how they carried off the dead mercenaries. All six of them were unceremoniously hefted and taken to the nearest airlock. From the cold expressions of the soldiers lugging them away, Susan supposed that Eris would soon have six frozen formerly living satellites in orbit. Remembering Heinrichs’ hatred and cruelty, she was not sure even that was an indecorous burial for the murdering thugs.
She watched them all go with deep and inexpressible relief, fending off the few efforts the medical personnel made to treat her as well. Finally, the rush of people faded away, leaving her and Gabriel alone amid the remnants of the battle. Susan looked across the room at him, studying him. Gabriel had fallen into one of the seats, the rifle he had wielded leaning up against the table. He seemed subdued now, as if the intensity of the rescue had lessened his inner fire somewhat. Perhaps it was merely worry for his father’s health, but if that were so, she did not know what had kept Gabe here when the doctors had carried Elder Miller away.
His gaze remained firmly on the table-top, as if he had forgotten that anyone else existed. Certainly he did not seem to remember that she was there, and Susan felt the momentary temptation to leave him to his thoughts. Yet walking away from him seemed wrong in some way she could not describe, as if she would be abandoning a duty she had yet to fulfill. It was ridiculous, but she waited all the same. Then she drew herself up and spoke, breaking the long silence. “Captain Gabriel, I wish to thank you for your efforts to rescue me and the others.”
The rig pilot glanced up, surprised; perhaps he had forgotten her after all. She gave him a wry smile. “Were I still in command of the fleet, I would put you in for a commendation for your heroics, but I suppose that will remain to whoever takes my place. At the least, you have my personal gratitude for what you have done.”
Gabriel glanced down and shook his head. “It was something that had to be done, Admiral. They had my father, they had you. If I hadn’t done something…” His words trailed off, and he shuddered slightly. “So you are still planning on leaving the fleet?”
The hopelessness in that question surprised her. Susan nodded slowly and folded her arms. “Yes, Captain. I still stand by my earlier decisions.” She paused, and walked partway around the table. “I regret that we are parting under such circumstances, but I cannot betray the principles I have sworn to uphold.”
“I understand, Admiral.” The response surprised her. He glanced at her before looking away. “When I came down the corridor, I saw them with guns drawn. I had my pistol on them before they could react, and I could have downed one or two of them before they fired.” Gabriel paused. “But I hesitated. When I saw that they were wearing our uniforms, I couldn’t just shoot them, not without knowing what had happened. And then they started firing back…”
He fell silent and looked down the corridor. “Maybe if I had reacted sooner, they wouldn’t have hit that guard. Or maybe if I hadn’t hesitated so long, they wouldn’t have shot my dad. I keep thinking that if I had just reacted, I could have done something, anything to keep it from happening this way.” Gabriel grimaced. “I understand now, Admiral.”
Susan remained silent for a moment. Then she shook her head. “Then you know why I have to go. I can’t be here, caught between the followers of the Way and the Directorate.” Turning, she made her way toward the door. As she reached it, she paused, remembering the feelings that had burned within her as Elder Miller spoke. “For what it’s worth, Captain Gabriel, I understand how you feel about the Way. I would follow, if I could, but that path is denied to me.”
Having said all she felt needed to be said, Susan again turned to leave. A single word brought her to a halt.
“Wait.” There was a sense of desperation in Gabriel’s voice, and she looked back to see that he had risen from his chair. His eyes were focused on her now. “You need to stay.”
The statement made her smile. “Stay? Have you not been listening again, Captain Gabriel?”
“I’ve been listening just fine, Admiral. You have to stay with the fleet.” His brows drew together and his eyes were now intense. She shook her head, her amusement fading.
“I can’t, Gabriel. I cannot allow myself to command a fleet that chooses to take Directorate property. Whether it is justified or not, I cannot.”
Gabriel growled something under his breath. “Then don’t command the fleet then—just stay!” He felt silent. The rig pilot waged a brief, though visible, struggle with himself to contain his feelings before he continued. “It isn’t safe for you in the Known Worlds anymore. Don’t you realize what this means?” He motioned to the rest of the room.
Susan frowned. She had opened her mouth to answer when he cut her off. “It means the Outriders have marked you for death! They made sure at least two people were here at this meeting: you and my father. They meant to kill both of you, no matter who else was present. Do you think they would stop just because you chose to stay behind?” Again she tried to speak, but he interrupted, his head once again lowered in that bull-like pose. “They would hunt you down and kill you, Delacourt, just out of spite. The only place I can be sure you would be safe is here, with me.” He paused and looked startled. “I mean, with the fleet.”
She waited for a moment longer to make sure he had finished, an eyebrow raised. “Might I put a word in, Gabriel?” He flushed red and glanced down, but she continued. “As much as I am touched by your concern for me, I think you’re overestimating the danger. Surely not everyone left behind by the evacuation is at risk. The enemy would not go after just anyone.”
“You’re not just anyone.” The fervent assurance in Gabriel’s voice made Susan blink. He crossed the floor toward her. “I know you don’t trust most people. You’ve got your reasons, but you don’t have to shut everyone out. You can still trust people—there are still good people around. My father’s one of them. He’d ask you to stay.”
Susan gave him a level stare. “But he has not asked me to stay, Gabriel.”
“I’m asking you.” Gabriel seemed to shake slightly, his eyes almost wild with frustration. “After everything we’ve been through so far, are you still telling me that you don’t trust me, not even this much? That you still don’t trust that what I would do to keep you safe?” His hands clenched and unclenched as he took another step closer. Susan almost wanted to take a step back, but she stood firm. “What would I have to do to show you that I have your best interests at heart? How can I convince you, for your own good, to stay?”
She folded her arms. “I can’t imagine how you could convince me of such a thing, Captain Gabriel.” He stepped closer, his eyes suddenly threatening. Susan glared back at him, unwilling to give an inch. “You may as well—”
“Imagine this.” He put a hand to her cheek, drew her forward, and kissed her.
The feel of his lips on hers was entirely unexpected. They were warm, and his breath felt hot. His smell filled her nostrils, sharp with the scent of plasma weaponry, but underneath earthy and mellow. His hand lay along the side of her face, callused and hard, yet holding her with care. She jerked her hands up to push him away, and felt the strength of his shoulders beneath the fabric of his uniform. For a moment—only a heartbeat, yet it seemed to stretch further—she paused as her heart raced with the sensations.
Then she shoved him back hard enough to break the contact. She stared wildly at him, feeling disheveled and uncomfortably warm; her face felt as if it were afire. Her breath came harsh and undisciplined, as if she had run a mile. “How dare you?”
Gabriel stared back, his own face aflame. “You wanted proof? There’s your proof. I care about you, I want what’s best for you, and I want you to stay.”
“What’s best for me?” She tried to keep her voice from being shrill; it was hard when her breath so stubbornly refused her control. “You just want me here because it’s good for you, not because it’s what is best for me. You’re just a selfish, uncultured pig.”
He backed away slightly as she advanced on him. The boldness had faded from his face, but Gabriel still managed a sharp retort. “Oh, really? Tell me then, Admiral, what is it exactly that you want?”
“What do I want?” Her breath still wasn’t calm. How had that happened? “You’re just getting to that question now?” Why had that kiss felt so good? “You couldn’t have bothered to ask me before you kissed me?” Not that she had any idea what she would have said or if the result would have been nearly as pleasant.
Gabriel backed into a wall. He rebounded from it, face still defiant. “Fine then—I’m asking now. What do you want? Well?”
She stared at him a moment, her mind whirring frantically and her heart still thumping away. It was not a question she wanted to answer, and she had not looked for a clear response to give the fool in front of her. She opened her mouth, searching for the answer.
“Admiral Delacourt.” The cool voice made them both jump, and she turned to find Colonel Mccalister walking through the door. Susan put a hand up to arrange her hair a bit, and Gabe’s face turned even redder than it already had been. Of all the people to have intruded now, the colonel was one of the last people she would have wanted. His face lacked much of the hostility she remembered seeing there, but all the same, it was no time for him to antagonize her. He came to a halt when he saw her, and to her surprise, he saluted. “Pardon me for interrupting, but we need you to come to the bridge right away. There’s a situation that needs your attention.”
She lifted her chin. “Colonel, I am no longer in command of your fleet, and now is not the time for—”
“Admiral. Please.” Mccalister seemed to struggle with himself. “Commander Mesic has also requested you. We need your help. One last time.”
The genuine plea in Mccalister’s voice stopped her protest cold. Susan straightened her uniform and glanced back at Gabriel, who was glaring at the man. It would have been fine to decline; after all, she wasn’t in command of the fleet anymore. If the situation was serious enough to worry Mesic, however, she had a responsibility to fix it. Susan came to a decision, though it was one she was likely to regret. “So be it, Colonel. Captain, we will continue this…discussion…later.”
Without allowing Gabe the chance to respond, she strode out the door. Even as she walked, however, that kiss still burned on her lips. What had the man been thinking?
When Susan arrived on the bridge, she found a scene of chaos. Both Directorate officers and Wayfarer personnel were mingling around the various stations, and their voices were raised in a sea of reports, exclamations, and the occasional muttered curse. She paused at the entrance, surprised, and then caught sight of Captain Ndigwe and Commander Mesic standing near the main command console.
She crossed over to them, with Colonel Mccalister trailing in her wake. He began to explain just as she caught sight of the projection that they were watching. “It started just after the first broadcasts about the attack on Elder Miller. We didn’t know what was happening at first; the fleet’s still too far out from the planet to get a good read on everything, and the evac fleet was busy loading civilians. By the time we realized…”
His words trailed off as the recording played. It showed the plain, utilitarian bulk of the Eris Guard Station. The military base had been in orbit since the earliest days of settlement on Eris, locked in position over the planetary capital. A few dozen Guard ships huddled close around the station, either docked at its spaceport or moving in leisurely patrol routes through the surrounding space.
Then Susan caught a flicker of motion from the side. Before she could focus on it, one side of the station exploded, venting atmosphere and shrapnel as a gigantic gash ripped its way across its face. Whatever had struck the station was followed by a second strike only a heartbeat later, this time a direct hit that drilled through the layers of habitats, docking bays, and magazines that made up the station’s core. A third blow slammed into the largest of the Guard ships, which had been drifting quietly nearby. The ship reeled away, colliding with the station before it snapped in half and exploded.
Within a handful of seconds, the entire station and its compliment of Guard ships was in tatters. What few ships managed to undock were obviously fleeing in chaos rather than attempting to help the survivors of the disaster. Susan felt a hollow feeling of shock overtake her as she realized how many casualties had to have been caused by the attack, and then a further discovery deepened that horror. She felt compelled to speak. “It’s falling.”
Ndigwe nodded. “The station was knocked out of orbit by the impacts. By the time we got this recording, it had already deorbited.” She touched a key, and the recording jumped to the image of a mushroom cloud. “It hit in the middle of Appleton City. The entire capital is gone.”
Susan stared at the image, realizing what it had to mean. Appleton City held nearly twenty million people in its urban confines. Millions more worked there and stayed outside the city. If the rain of debris had destroyed any amount of the city, the death toll had to be catastrophic. She tried to keep her voice even. “Where did those projectiles come from?”
Commander Mesic, his eyes still slightly dazed from the blow he had taken to the head, answered quietly. “We don’t know. Some news outlets are theorizing that an asteroid did it, but Admiral…” He shook his head. “Those had to be mass driver shots. Actual loaded ammunition, not just a bunch of rocks.”
Colonel Mccalister nodded. “They moved a heck of a lot faster than the asteroids we’ve been dealing with before. Maybe we missed another base?” He looked at Susan, his expression caught partway between challenge and question.
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Susan shook her head. “Not a facility, Colonel. A fleet.” She touched a button, and the recording shut down. “It appears Bennett Securities has decided to escalate things.”
When she looked up, she found the rest of the officers staring at her, waiting for her orders. To her surprise, even the other pockets of personnel in the rest of the bridge had quieted, and nearly everyone was straining to hear what she was saying. Susan glanced at Commander Mesic, and the Directorate officer sighed.
“Admiral, in light of this disaster, I think we can do without the conflict. You can consider the Concord yours until the threat is neutralized.”
“Thank you, Commander.” She knew the sort of risk the man had to be taking. If things did not go well, a court martial was likely in his future. Yet it was his duty to defend Eris—just as it was now hers to stay with the Wayfarers, at least until the fight was finished. Susan nodded and raised her voice. “I want RSR flights sent back along the course those projectiles took to hit the station. The fleet should still be hiding out there; I want them found. Bring our ships about to cut across that course so we can deflect any further projectiles.”
Susan spoke with a confidence beyond what she felt. “We have stopped this threat once, and we will stop them again. Now get to work. We have a job to do.” The hum of conversation returned, though the tenor of panic was now fading. She nodded to her other officers and tapped a key that forwarded the recordings and her command messages to her quarters. If they were going to survive the next few days, she needed to plan. Gabriel’s words returned to her mind, but she shoved them to the side. There would be time enough for that later.
It was treachery.
There was no other explanation for what had happened to Bennett’s plans. The beautiful, exquisitely tailored campaign to reduce a pitiful bunch of refugees to hunted fugitives was now broken beyond repair. The Concord and Compass both now flew as part of their fleet, his asteroid station had been destroyed, and worst of all, Bennett had received reports that Heinrichs had utterly failed him. Clark Miller and Susan Delacourt both lived, their very lives mocking his power to command. The list of failures was too complete. He had been betrayed.
Bennett watched as the indicator lit up on his command screen. The mass driver had finished its charge at last, and was now preparing to launch another flurry of projectiles at his foes. The fact that he had not had time to separate them from his allies did not bother him overmuch. Failure and treachery were enough alike that he had no problem assigning them the same punishment. Commodore Dubois was already dead in the wrecked shell of the Eris Guard Station. Chancellor Ripley was now likely buried beneath the ruins of the capital of Eris, Appleton City. As for Admiral Nevlin, he would soon be jumping through the local resonance gate to hunt down the Wayfarers; Bennett was confident he would be able to account for that coward as well with a well-timed ambush. Mr. Black, whoever he had been, was beyond his reach for now, but he could worry about that later. First, he had a mission to finish.
He looked to the weapons watchstander, who had been busy for the past few hours. The mass driver was a delicate instrument of destruction, and it required a fine hand to manipulate the weapon correctly. They would not be launching mere asteroids, of course, but precisely calibrated penetration munitions, which made the need for an exact method that much more crucial. The man seemed uneasy, as if his conscience were bothering him. It did not matter. If the fool hesitated, he could be replaced easily once they were through here. “Commander Thomas, target the refugees and New Sonora. Let us finish this.”
The weapons officer hesitated, and then nodded. He touched a combination of controls, and the mass driver hummed with power. Its force could be felt throughout the Maximum Security; Bennett relished the feel of that power through the soles of his boots. Life was so much less uncertain once one discarded the trappings of so-called society. It was simpler—no, more efficient—to live by one’s own rules.
Then the weapon fired, releasing one long rolling barrage of ordnance destined to impact on Eris’ surface. Shot after shot whipped out of the acceleration tubes, each one sending a shudder through the ship. The Maximum Security had to brace itself with its tetherdrive to avoid having its aim pushed off by the power the driver put out, but it was worth it. It would all be worth it soon.
When the barrage ended, Bennett sat back and waited for the projectiles to strike. He pictured New Sonora collapsing into a mushroom cloud of heat and death, saw in his mind’s eye the buildings smashed by concussion waves and the Wayfarers incinerated by the impacts. Their fleet would likely scatter once their friends and family were killed, but they would be alone. They could be hunted down later, once Nevlin was dead, and Bennett would have wounded them in a way that defied description. The images of dead Wayfarers and ruined cities sustained him through the long wait as the projectiles streamed toward the target. A timer counted down the seconds until impact, and he leaned forward as the numbers dropped to zero.
Nothing happened. There was no impact. Anger, savage and unreasoning, swept through him. In a voice trembling with frustration, he spoke carefully. “Commander?”
The man jumped, his fingers flying over the console. “I—I don’t know what happened. The calculations were perfect. Our shots should have hit, unless…” His words trailed off as he adjusted his equipment. “The shots were deflected, General. A fleet is approaching from Eris, and they used tetherdrives to knock the projectiles off course.”
Bennett grunted. “The Guard?” He shook his head. After the destruction of the station, the Guard should have been in complete disorder. The only other fleet it could possibly be…
He slowly nodded. It was perfect. The Wayfarers were coming right to him, and if they dared try to escape, they would be abandoning their comrades to his tender mercies. Bennett smiled. “Close with the enemy fleet. It appears that the Wayfarers are coming to meet us. We should give them a warm welcome.” He glanced at the commander in charge of the mass driver. “Continue to fire the occasional shot—just to make sure they stay on course. Reserve enough power for when they are within range for combat. I have something special in mind for them.”
His officers nodded and began to give orders. Turning his attention back to his ships and their approach to New Sonora, he smiled. Soon, it would all finally be over. This mission, the stubborn resistance put up by the cultists, and his clients’ betrayals. Finally, he would earn the respect and glory he deserved for his work, and the enemy would be cast down.
He would not stop at anything less now, not for the whole of the Known Worlds as payment.
Gabe looked around the table at the people Delacourt had summoned. Besides himself, both Commander Mesic and Colonel Mccalister were present, along with Keeper Schreiber. The Keeper did not look pleased at having to attend, but then again, Gabe figured he would have been even angrier at being left out, so inviting him had probably been a good move.
Delacourt’s face showed none of the outrage it had held in that other conference room. She barely glanced at him as she motioned to the holographic projection taking up the center of the table. “According to our RSR scouts, the projectiles are coming from a fleet of vessels stationed here.”
Mesic was the first to speak. “Why are they firing on Eris? They can’t be from the Wild Colonies, not this far from the front.”
She looked at the Directorate officer, her eyes grim. “RSR pilots have tentatively identified enemy MSSRs escorting the ships. Based on those observations, they do appear to be members of the Bennett Securities fleet. That would be the same group of mercenaries which has been attacking us for some time, including the attempt yesterday.” Susan shook her head, her lips curled in disgust. “I don’t know why the mercenaries are bombarding the planet, but their next obvious target is New Sonora. I’ve positioned us in the line those shots would take to hit the city.”
She hesitated, looking up at the projection. “It is possible for us to deflect the projectiles—at least one volley has been stopped already—but to keep doing so will require us to stay in between the mercenaries and their targets. It will pin us into position. We will not be able to run.”
“Not going to happen anyway.” Gabe’s eyes were fixed on the holograms of the enemy fleet. Which one was the flagship, the one holding the men who had planned to kill his father in cold blood? “They could hit the evac ships just as easily as the station. We can’t leave those behind. How many ships are we talking about?”
Susan shook her head. “There are several cruisers, some of which have to be carriers for the MSSRs. We’ve also seen escort craft similar to the types we faced near the launch site. Our combined count has led us to estimate at least ten cruiser-class vessels and upwards of thirty-five smaller craft. That number is likely inaccurate, but more than sufficient to challenge the fleet we currently are able to field.”
Mesic frowned. “If they had this much of a fleet, why not strike before? And why hit us now?”
Colonel Mccalister grunted. “The cowards were all about keeping it quiet before. Using asteroids, planning accidents, even the assassination attempt—that’s all stuff that can be swept under the rug if it has to be.” He looked as if he wanted to spit. “Now we’re about to get away, and they can’t stay under a rock. So they came out in force. Probably hit the Guard just to keep them out of it.”
The Keeper nodded slowly. “So now that you are attempting to flee, they are coming for us all. How have we attempted to contact this mercenary fleet? Have they sent any demands?”
Gabe answered the man, trying to keep his distaste out of his voice. “The Outriders have never made any demands; they’ve just killed us when they could. It’s been like the attacks earlier this week—just violence and no reason for it.” The memories of the attack on the Speaker flooded through his mind again, and he shook his head. “All I know is that we can’t let them get away. We have to stop them, here and now, before they do any more damage.”
“Then we’ll be more than happy to do so, Captain Miller.” Delacourt’s statement, though formal, still made him smile. She nodded at him, and then hesitated. “Of course, the use of the Concord will make that fight considerably more even. We appreciate the Directorate’s help in this matter.”
Commander Mesic sucked in a breath through his teeth and looked over at the Keeper. Gabe watched them exchange a serious look, and then Schreiber sighed and gave Mesic a nod. The officer glanced back at Delacourt. “The Directorate has actually not volunteered any help, Admiral Delacourt.”
Delacourt blinked in surprise. “I was under the impression that the Concord was at my disposal, Commander. If the Directorate wishes to withdraw that help—”
The Keeper interrupted her with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Perhaps I can explain, Admiral Delacourt.” Gabe grunted, and Schreiber continued in a quiet tone. “The truth of the matter is that the Concord does not actually belong to the Directorate.”
There was a silence as they all digested those words, and Gabe was the first to ask the question he was sure was on the tip of everyone’s tongue. “What are you talking about? Of course the Directorate owns it; they’re the ones flying it!”
“Not at the moment, now are they?” The Keeper’s eyes glinted slightly, and he held up a hand to forestall further comment. “The Directorate has only been holding the Concord in trust for the actual owners of the vessel, who have preferred to leave it in their hands. These owners have been persuaded to change their minds. The Concord will officially be entrusted to the Wayfarers, so long as they continue in their current course.”
Gabe blinked and found himself smiling. Susan could stay. She could stay! “Who are they? We owe them our thanks.”
Schreiber looked at him for a moment, and then away. “The Concord, along with many of the ancient relics of our forefathers, is entrusted to the line of the Keepers for safekeeping. I am the only Keeper, and the decision was mine.” His expression turned a little pained. “My father would have disagreed; even my brother would protest the move, but I feel it is right. Though I remain skeptical of your kind, I would be glad of the chance to help you escape to some distant location, free of the brutes who attacked here.”
The words came with difficulty to the man, and Gabe nodded slowly. “Then I thank you, Keeper Schreiber. Your help will not be forgotten, not as long as we live.”
The Keeper’s eyes sharpened. “I do not intend to let you forget, Wayfarer. I will be accompanying your colony fleet as it journeys into the unknown, and I will be watching. If you do not treat the Concord with the proper respect, or if you intend to use it to establish some sort of pirate base for your own gain, I will be there, watching.” He paused. “But perhaps as I accompany you, I will find you to be more honorable than I thought. I am not so proud as to believe myself infallible.”
“We will be happy for the chance to prove ourselves, Keeper.” Gabe privately wondered if there was any way to discourage the man from joining them, but he did not believe it would happen. Somehow the prospect of the Keeper’s perusal was more threatening than the Keeper’s scorn, but he could bear it if it meant Susan would be joining them as well.
The man nodded in approval, a bare inclination of the head. Then Delacourt spoke. “Surely the Directorate will protest, Keeper. Though the title of the ship remains in your hands, they have been providing crew, refits, and maintenance, all at significant cost. They may petition the Council to award them the claim for the ship.”
“You’re right, Admiral.” Gabe thought for a moment. “Then again, if you have sufficient property, you could surrender it to them as payment, right?” The Keeper nodded. “Well, we do have a city we aren’t going to be using anytime soon. Plenty of infrastructure and land. Do you think the Directorate would accept that in exchange?”
“Not gladly, but they would have to. After all, the Concord will be gone before they hear of the decision.” The Keeper nodded. “I thank you for providing the solution to that problem, however.” He hesitated. “And for saving my life earlier.” A mischievous smile twisted his lips. “I sense our journey together will be quite interesting.”
Delacourt cleared her throat to draw their attention back to her. “The fact remains that we are still sizably outgunned. Even with the Concord, there is a definite chance that we will be overwhelmed.”
“If you will pardon my interruption, Admiral, I have to say that I disagree.” Gabe turned to find his father standing in the doorway. Gabe came out of his seat with shock, and the others in the room made similar motions to come to his father’s aid, but each was gently waved away. The Speaker leaned heavily on a small antique walking cane as he moved forward into the room.
The wound must have hurt, but the Speaker spoke clearly. “The Outriders will not stop us. The Lord is with us, and we shall prevail.”
Gabe remained standing, wanting to dash forward and catch his father if he fell. He still couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Dad, you shouldn’t be here. Why aren’t you in the medical ward, getting ready for surgery?”
Elder Miller shook his head. “There is too much to do and too little time. The doctor said I could heal if I used the cane, and that will be good enough for me.” Gabe opened his mouth again to protest, but the Speaker gave him a firm look. “The Lord will look after me well enough, Gabriel. Focus on what He would have you do in order to care for His people.”
Gabe settled back into his seat, unhappy but trying to hide it. Admiral Delacourt spoke next. “Elder Miller, is there any way the evacuation can be accelerated? Our best option is to attempt to avoid contact with this fleet—at the very least, until we are no longer in such a vulnerable position near the planet and the passenger ships. Defending against the enemy will be far easier when the civilian ships and planetary targets are not a concern.”
The Speaker shook his head. “The people are moving as fast as they can, but there is simply not enough room to bring them up all at once. Only three-fifths of New Sonora have been evacuated, and there remains at least another fifth to board the ships.”
Schreiber frowned. “And what of the last fifth? Will they be evacuating at a different point?”
Elder Miller fell silent for a moment. “Not all will have the faith to do what the Lord requires. The rest have chosen to stay, regardless of what I asked of them.”
The Keeper shook his head. “Why not simply explain the threat? Surely the risk of death will motivate them, or if not, the risk of hellfire.”
Colonel Mccalister grunted. “If any of us were afraid to die, Keeper, it’s been beaten out of us a while back. They’re probably just a little worried about launching out into the unknown, or they’ve got sick families or something.” He looked over at Delacourt. “Besides, the Outriders have been lashing out at everybody. We can stop them, so the crap’s rolled downhill to us.”
“Very poetic, sir.” Mesic sat back in his chair, his eyes narrowed. “I doubt they can avoid the fallout just by hiding. Eris may become an even more dangerous place for your people once the dust settles; they might find themselves wishing they had come after all.”
Gabe broke in. “It doesn’t matter whether it would convince them or not. We have enough to worry about already.” He looked at Delacourt. “It’s obvious in any case that we can’t run. The transports won’t make it, and the evacuation will be only half done anyway. If we sit tight, they’ll pin us against the planet and lob shots at New Sonora and the transports to tie us down. Our only chance is to go out to meet them before they reach us.”
The others looked at him with some surprise, but Delacourt nodded. “Captain Gabriel is correct. If we are to complete the evacuation and keep the transports in any amount of relative safety, we have to engage the enemy clear of the planet. Otherwise, we will find ourselves outmaneuvered and overwhelmed.” She paused, and glanced at Gabe again. Their eyes met for a moment, and he felt a jolt down his spine. “Inform all units of the fleet that we will be leaving Erisian orbit to engage the enemy as far as possible from New Sonora. All units will begin preparations for battle immediately, and we will meet the enemy ten hours from commencement.”
Elder Miller bowed his head, his face solemn. “And may the Lord bless us that we will not fail.” That heartfelt prayer found its echo in Gabe’s heart, and the others gave the Speaker a respectful nod before they stood to leave. One way or another, the fight to escape New Sonora had truly begun.