The buzz of the message alert woke Susan from a deep sleep. She jumped, letting a pocket computer fall from her hands. A report on the various systems the Council planned to scout still scrolled across the screen. Before that, she’d been studying the schematics of the Concord again, trying to determine what lay in that unmapped area and why the planners of the Directorate had taken such great pains to conceal it. Between those two issues, she’d been more than weary enough to fall asleep in her chair.
Straightening her rumpled uniform, she pressed a button to open the communications channel. “Admiral Delacourt speaking. What’s going on?”
Commander Mesic’s voice came back to her, full of worry. “Admiral, the sensors have detected a resonance burst. A large one, coming into the system.”
Susan sat back, suddenly alert. An incoming burst would tell them that someone had arrived, but not who, and not precisely where. Worse, it wouldn’t tell them where they were coming from, which meant that it could be anyone from smugglers running along the border to a Directorate task force. It could even be something even less expected—Gabriel’s aliens, for example.
One thing was for certain, however. No matter who had just entered the system, they presented an irrevocable danger to the fleet. She was needed again.
“I’ll be on the bridge immediately, Commander. Prep the alert RSRs for a scouting flight, and let me know if anything else shows up on the sensors.”
“Of course, Admiral.” As the channel shut down, Susan stood and moved for the door. It looked as if the Wayfarers’ time in this system might be coming to a close.
By the time she reached the bridge, the dots representing the RSR scouts were already in motion, heading toward the general direction of the burst. It wasn’t likely that their visitors would be sitting at the burst point waiting for scouts to arrive, but it was a better starting location than anywhere else. Susan glanced at Mesic, who stood and came to attention. She nodded; it never hurt to see a remnant of their shared experience in the Directorate come out. “Commander. There have been no other contacts with the new arrivals?”
“No, sir.” Mesic’s face was professional and stoic, but his eyes revealed a trace of concern. “There have been no signals, no definitive ship sightings, and no evidence of any other presence in the system.”
Susan kept her own expression calm. Inside, she started to feel a slow burn of fear. If the newcomers had been friendly, they likely would have broadcast some sort of message. A trader or other benign visitor probably would not have had combat shields up either, and a determined scan would have revealed them. Of course, they could be just a pack of criminals trying to avoid detection, but if they weren’t … She watched the RSRs continue their journey and made a decision. “Bring the fleet up to alert status. I want all rig pilots ready for launch before the RSRs reach the burst point, and the Defense Force ships should take up a blocking position between the burst point and the rest of the fleet.”
Her gaze drifted to the mercenary ships still crewed by prisoners and a handful of armed guards. The situation would leave them an opportunity to abandon the fleet, or perhaps even to attack the Defense Forces from behind, but there was no way around it. “Inform the garrison troops on board the captured ships to be on full alert. They should secure their positions and prevent any attempts at mutiny with deadly force.”
As the fleet began to move, the watchstander at the communications console looked up. “Admiral, we have a signal from the Summer Rain. They’re asking what is going on.”
“Respond with a description of the situation, and tell them to alert the rest of the refugee fleet as well. They need to be ready for an emergency evacuation.” Susan reached her own console and brought up the displays with a flourish. The alarms began to sound as the ship prepared itself for battle, and her eyes narrowed as the scouts closed in.
Gabe stumbled out of his quarters and started a half-hobbling run toward the rig bays. The alarm had caught him at the end of another nightmare about the strange rigs, and his dream had left a lingering taste of fear that spurred him forward. In his mind’s eye, he saw hundreds of those slender forms whirling through the perimeter of the fleet, tearing into the refugee ships with otherworldly weapons and then vanishing. Fortunately, there were no explosions, but he wasn’t about to relax yet.
Allen joined him halfway down the corridor; his wingman looked a little stunned. “Gabe, what’s going on?”
“No idea. Maybe it’s just a drill.” Gabe tried to stay casual, but the words still sounded too tense. Allen nodded, and they ran for the bays.
An hour had passed since the report had woken her, and Susan was starting to feel the fatigue caused by her interrupted sleep. The RSRs had reached the burst point, their little rigs skittering across the void in search of the new arrivals, but nothing appeared on the projection. She listened to the idle chatter of the scout pilots, her mind struggling to stay focused.
“Eyes-Four. I’m not seeing anything in this direction. Repeat, no trace of any sort over here.”
“Eyes-Seven. I’m getting a small gravitic effect here and there, but it’s mostly just the background interference from the nearby planets. Continuing sweep.”
“Eyes-Ten. Still no sign of anything. Kind of wishing I was still asleep.”
“Eyes-One. I wish you had stayed home too, Ten. Keep looking.”
Susan shook her head. She glanced at Mesic and found him watching her. He shrugged. “It’s possible that it was just a fluke reading from the instruments, Admiral. Or maybe just a local trader skirting the border to avoid tax patrols.”
Those were possible explanations, but something inside Susan rejected them out of instinct. The burst point had indicated a large number of vessels; that sort of reading meant a convoy of some sort, not an individual craft. Besides, a trader wouldn’t have been able to gain enough distance from the burst point to evade detection now. A trade vessel’s tetherdrive was designed for cost-effectiveness and reliability, not raw power.
The other options rose in her mind again. A pirate force would have already cleared the burst point, but they wouldn’t dare attack a fleet so much larger than them. Bennett Securities had been an exception, not the rule; most pirates relied on cost-effectiveness almost as much as a trader. It wouldn’t be profitable to face a fleet of warships, not even if it meant taking the entire remainder of the Wayfarer fleet. If they had any clue what was waiting for them, they would run and flee the system at the first opportunity.
A mercenary group, hired to hunt them, would make a similar calculation and abandon their contract. Scout vessels were just as unlikely to have left so large a burst-point signature. Gabriel’s imaginary aliens—if they even existed—were apparently stealthy enough to avoid detection on a regular basis. They wouldn’t have revealed themselves so easily if they were out there. A fleet from the Wild Colonies was a possibility, but the chance that an entire task force would have fought all the way through the Known Worlds to reach this desolate border system was remote.
Which left one final option to consider. Susan motioned to Commander Mesic. “Commander, has Directorate burst-point discipline changed in the past few years?”
Mesic’s expression grew terribly grave. He turned back to the main display. “Not particularly. When a Directorate task force leaves a resonance cascade in a contested system, they break vertically away from the burst point. When they’ve risen above the plane of the system, they begin to launch scouts in order to find enemy forces.”
Susan nodded. “That’s what I expected.” She began to plug variables into her console. “They haven’t upgraded the speed of the Phalanx-class cruiser since I was discharged?”
Mesic shook his head.
“Good.” Another light appeared on the display; it represented the possible point of contact that the RSRs would have with a theoretical Directorate task force. It continued to move upward, and Susan watched closely as two RSRs closed in on the location. Eyes-Nine and Eyes-Ten had not reported any problems, but if the display was correct, they would be seeing something quite soon.
She felt tension creep up her spine as the scouts neared that mark. As the two bright specks dove through that area, her breath caught. Then Susan felt her muscles begin to relax as the two RSRs failed to report anything. Neither signal blacked out, and both continued to accelerate upwards relative to the burst point.
Then a signal came in from Eyes-Ten. “Eyes-Ten, I’m picking something up. Eyes-Nine, can you see—”
Susan looked up to see Mesic staring at her. She saw the horror in his eyes, and understood. The Directorate was hunting them; men and women she might have served with were now her foes. Worse, the safety of the entire refugee fleet depended on the defeat of one of the two most powerful fleets in the known universe.
Eyes-Ten had continued. “Eyes-Ten to Command. We have confirmed contacts up ahead. They look like rigs. If I had to guess, I’d say WGCs. They’re pulling back; we will pursue and monitor them.”
The words broke Susan out of her trance. She sent a return signal with a press of a button. “Command to Eyes-Ten. Get out of there now! They’re drawing you into a trap!”
Her warning reached the RSRs, but the rigs didn’t divert their course. Eyes-Ten responded with an almost puzzled tone. “Command, are you sure? If we pull back, we’ll lose sight of them.”
Susan had just reached for the control to answer when another signal came in, this time from Eyes-Ten’s wingman. The panic in the rig pilot’s voice was clear. “Eyes-Nine, I have incoming contacts! There are at least a dozen of them. Pull back, pull back!”
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The display suddenly flared with new points of light all around the two RSRs, and Susan gripped the armrests of her seat. Both RSRs were retreating now, but the Directorate rigs had planned their ambush exceedingly well. Several of the enemy rigs were waiting below the RSRs, and they closed in rapidly. It wasn’t long before those neutral blips of light flashed red, identifying them as hostile—worse, as hostiles that had opened fire.
“Eyes-Nine, we’re under heavy fire! Assess nine—no ten—World Guard Combat Rigs. We need backup!”
“Eyes-Ten, lots of firepower out here. Nine, pull up!”
Susan looked toward the rig coordination watchstander. The woman was staring at her with wide eyes, but Susan had no time to reassure her. “Scramble the CTRs. I want a squadron en route to shield the RSRs as they fall back toward the fleet.” She touched the control to signal the rigs already out in space, several of whom were starting to angle toward their fellow pilots who were under attack. “Command to all RSRs, retreat toward the Concord immediately. The enemy is a Directorate task force, and they may be tracking your movements. Do not, repeat, do not engage enemy targets if at all possible. CTR escorts are en route.”
The RSR leader signaled back a moment later. “Eyes-One, copy order. You heard her, guys—get back to the fleet.” Most of the RSRs began to turn back, but four of them did not. Two continued to head for where their friends were being targeted; the other two, led by Eyes-One himself, swept up and around that flock of RSRs and WGCs, aiming for a location further away from the ambush site.
Frustrated, Susan keyed her controls again. “Eyes-One, what are you doing?”
Despite the situation, the RSR pilot’s voice was calm. “Mission profile calls for us to identify the enemy force and assess their strength, ma’am.” Eyes-One and his wingman started to accelerate. “We’re going in for one high-speed pass before we come back. Hopefully we’ll be too fast to catch; maybe we’ll even pull some of the WGCs off the others. Either way, a good look at the enemy is more than worth two scout rigs.”
Susan closed her eyes. It was the kind of cold calculus she’d always hated during her career in the Directorate. Seeing those rig pilots throw themselves into the thick of the enemy would be hard—especially since she knew it could just as easily have been Gabriel hurling himself into harm’s way. Yet she was the force commander, and she could not ignore this chance.
She opened her eyes and kept her voice firm. “Confirmed, Eyes-One. One pass, and then you get back to the fleet. I don’t want any screw-ups.”
“Acknowledged, Command.”
Trying not to feel cold, Susan turned her attention to the scouts who were under attack. The two RSRs who had come to their aid had driven the WGCs back for a moment, and now all four were now retreating together toward the fleet. Even as she watched, CTRs were launching and forming up to go out for them—Paladin Squadron had apparently been the first to scramble. Those rigs moved out toward the retreating RSRs, and she forced herself to relax. The situation was far from over, but at the very least she would know what she was facing.
Gabe tried not to grit his teeth in frustration.
He’d reached his rig in fairly good time, considering he’d been dragged out of bed from a dead sleep, but Derek and his Paladins had been the squadron on alert status, and they were the ones already heading for combat. Gabe itched to join them, but he knew that unless things changed, he might never launch. If Delacourt wanted to retreat rather than to fight, the fewer rig squadrons she launched, the better. Every rig she put in space would be another rig she would have to either gather up or abandon when she left the system.
Of course, knowing that didn’t make it one bit easier to sit in his CTR and wait. He’d already settled into his seat and connected to the BCI, so he could hear the signals coming in from the distant RSRs as they tried to fall back. Gabe felt himself growing more and more tense as the uneven battle continued.
“Eyes-Four, you’ve got two on you! Juke to port and I’ll clear them.”
“Negative, Eyes-Nine. I can hold them off. You worry about yours …” The signal ended in a burst of static.
“Eyes-Ten to Eyes-Nine, is Four still there?”
“Confirmed, Ten. She just took a hit to her comm array. Still maneuvering. I can—” This time the signal ended with a sudden scream.
“Eyes-Nine? Eyes-Nine!”
Gabe closed his eyes, knowing that one of the RSR pilots wouldn’t be making it home. He prayed that the Lord would help Derek and the other CTRs to reach the scout pilots before more of them were killed, and he prayed that they would all be able to reach safety before something else went wrong.
Captain Wong stood on the bridge of the Imperious and monitored the skirmish taking place below the task force with satisfaction.
Combat had not entirely been expected within this system; in fact, when the task force had originally entered the area, he’d expected to find yet another burst-point signal rather than their prey. The appearance of enemy scouts had dispelled that worry, however, and his pilots were now harrying the hapless fools back to their carrier. He was slightly disappointed that Delacourt had not offered a more difficult challenge, but he and the rest of his fleet would be glad to end this hunt at last.
Wong watched as another enemy rig fell victim to his pilots and frowned. He touched a control. “Imperious to I-Five. You’ve been instructed to track them back to their fleet, not destroy them. Do not kill them all until you have further instructions from the flagship.”
The pilots’ response came a moment later. “Confirmed, Imperious. I-Five will continue to exercise restricted fire control.”
Frustration had laced the pilot’s reply, and Wong’s frown deepened further at such a display of lax discipline. He felt heavily tempted to order the squadron commander back to base for immediate evaluation, but an amused chuckle restrained his impulse.
Admiral Nevlin had entered the bridge, his uniform sharply pressed. “Do not scowl, Captain. Such a fighting spirit can be put to excellent use soon enough.” The admiral glanced at the main display. “Do we have contact with their main force yet?”
Wong braced to attention. “No, sir. We are still tracking their scouts and should have a location soon. The Imperious, the Oheawai, the Pavlov, and the Sihang are all preparing WGC squadrons to make heavy attacks against enemy cruisers. The Fisher King has also signaled that the SSS squadron is ready to perform escort missions for our assault rigs once the enemy is found.”
“Good.” The admiral stared at the pair of red dots representing the enemy scouts. “I assume that we have already altered course to follow them, then.”
“We have, Admiral.” Wong glanced at his navigation watchstander, who gave an imperceptible nod. “Our task force is already forming up, and we should be within range of the enemy before they have a chance to escape.” He motioned to where the cruisers and carriers of the fleet were diving back toward the enemy scouts. “I’ve also deployed a picket screen of rigs to prevent any unforeseen problems.”
“Excellent.” Admiral Nevlin gave a faint smile. “If only we’d had such equipment with us when I was on the Victorious. It would have made dealing with the pirates there so much easier.”
Wong nodded. He gestured to the command deck in invitation. “Admiral, if you wish to direct the battle from here, I would be honored.”
To Wong’s surprise, Admiral Nevlin waved off the invitation with a casual air. “No, Captain, I entrust this engagement entirely to you. I will monitor your operation from the flag deck. If I have questions for you, I will be in direct contact with you over the comm system.” He raised his hand as if gesturing with a wine glass. “To victory, Captain!”
Uncertain and wary, Wong bowed slightly. “To victory, Admiral. We will not fail you.” He straightened to watch the admiral stroll off the bridge, his gait unworried. Wong had been monitored from the flag deck before; as a major carrier, the Imperious had served many times as the flagship for a Directorate squadron on the front lines, and her layout had been set up with that function in mind. From the flag deck, a group commander could easily monitor the actions of any of the ships under his command and give direction as needed.
Yet Wong had always found it more reassuring to have the flag officer actually on the Imperious’ bridge itself. There was something more inspiring about having the admiral on deck, as if the group commander had decided to take part in the battle amongst the rest of the men and women of the fleet. Perhaps it also eroded the image of admirals who spent their time locked away in offices, frittering away their time with meetings and management instead of leading fleets to victory. There was a general consensus among flag captains throughout the fleet that an admiral who chose the flag deck was too disconnected, too self-absorbed to lead properly, and that their lack of firsthand participation would cause the Directorate ships under their command to suffer.
Whatever the cause, Wong had tolerated the less-than-admirable actions of many officers who had commanded from the flag deck, but he had far from enjoyed it. He was still working through his surprise over the fact that Admiral Nevlin had chosen such a stance during the engagement when an alert throbbed through the command deck. Wong turned sharply, setting his worries aside, and addressed his watchstander.
“Lieutenant Gavin. Our sensors have made contact?”
The junior officer did not seem enthusiastic. “No, sir. We were scanned by enemy units crossing at maximum range from our defensive perimeter. I-Three has signaled that they are ready to pursue.”
Wong shook his head. “No. Keep our rigs close by; the enemy may just be trying to divert us from their own scouts. Besides, it looks as if their speed is too high for our units to intercept.” He settled his eyes on the remaining enemy scouts, surrounded and harassed by his interceptors. “Let them have their peek at our fleet. Perhaps it will prepare them for the reckoning soon to come.”
Susan’s breath caught as the first readings from Eyes-One came in, and not just because it seemed like the RSR’s daring pass had not attracted any pursuit. The sheer size of the fleet bearing down on the Wayfarers was astounding. It was almost as if the Directorate had expected to encounter a Wild Colonies battle group in support of the refugee ships rather than the small task force she had at her disposal.
Her first response was instantaneous, almost instinctive. If the enemy was sending out that many WGCs, more could be right on their heels. Her ships needed a defensive screen as much as the RSRs did. “Launch Angel Squadron. Angels, remain on proximity patrols. Watch for incoming WGCs. Paladin Squadron, hit the WGCs and then fall back with Eyes Squadron. All rigs, watch for enemy reinforcements.”
Susan shook her head to clear it and triggered a fleetwide signal. “This is the Concord to all ships. Assume resonance cascade formation and establish gravitic links with the Concord. We are facing an overwhelming force that we have no chance to defeat. Retreat is our only option.” Susan paused and drew in a breath to finish a sentence she did not want to finish. “Any ship not following this order will be left behind. Concord out.”
Almost immediately, the console lit up with incoming signals, but Susan let her communications watchstander handle the majority of them. The only signal that truly concerned her came from the Summer Rain. She answered it with a feeling of trepidation, but she had no other options. It was either run or die.
Elder Miller’s face appeared above her console. He looked fearful. “Admiral, I received your message. You are sure that the entire fleet needs to leave?”
“Absolutely.” When she saw hesitation on his face, Susan continued in a hard voice. “Elder Miller, the Directorate has sent nearly twenty ships to destroy us here, including a frontline carrier. Our rig pilots are already in combat, but as soon as I can recover them, we need to leave. Now.”
Elder Miller still seemed reluctant, but he nodded. “Very well, Admiral. I will trust in your judgment. The fleet will form up and begin to prepare for the resonance cascade.” Then he paused. “Admiral, do you think we can escape?”
Susan looked away for a moment, studying the main display while she organized her thoughts. Finally, she came to a grudging conclusion. “It is still possible. The Directorate ships are far enough away that we can avoid direct combat, and their rigs will not have time for multiple passes against us.”
She paused, and then shook her head. “At the same time, Elder, it isn’t likely that we can escape them forever, not as things stand. If the Directorate has bothered to send any force after us at all, it’s very likely that they have orders to pursue us wherever we go. Sooner or later, they may catch up with us. We can make it to the fallback system, but we will need to be prepared for when they follow us.”
Elder Miller looked grim. “You’re right, Admiral. I’ll consult with the others here, and we’ll try to come up with a plan. Thank you for your assessment.”
Susan met his eyes. “Don’t thank me, Elder Miller. We’re not out of this yet.”
He smiled. “I have every confidence that we will be soon. Elder Miller out.”