Trafalgar sat there. With dozens of fighters closing in to point blank range and opening fire. The warship made no move to fire back. Just letting its silent message continue. For the moment, the armoured hull had not given out, but without lifting a finger against so many hits, it was only a matter of time before they got through.

“You’re sure this is a good idea?” Grace asked in a voice so quiet it was almost a whisper as she leaned over the side of the centre seat.

“It’s a representation of the building blocks of the universe,” Chase replied. “It doesn’t get simpler than this.”

“If they recognise it,” replied Grace.

The ship buffeted. Grace lost her footing and fell to the deck. She got back to her feet and moved over to the empty position behind Chase, holding the console to brace herself.

“Helm,” said Chase, “try to position us in the direction of the hostiles’ leadership.” The Trafalgar came about and headed back down towards Hemera where the lead hostile vessel was in high orbit. The fighters kept with it in a swarm around the Trafalgar. Grace leaned over and whispered to Chase.

“I get what we’re doing, and I don’t think you’re incorrect, but if you want to still be alive in half an hour, you’re going to have to fight back.”

She wasn’t wrong.

“Winter, we can’t keep this up much longer. Target the fighters’ engines. Try to disable them where possible.”

“Wokoma, can you do anything with the projection? Make it larger, extend it slightly further out, perhaps?”

“I’ve done what I can,” said Wokoma. “I’ll have to find other power sources if we want to extend it.”

“Take some from life support,” said Chase. “We won’t be needing it for long at this rate.”

The bridge doors swung open, and Dryden stepped out. Chase noticed Grace bristle at his presence. She stepped over to the helm and started helping Wokoma. The Engineer came down to the Chase’s chair.

“Commander,” he said, “we’ve got to fight back.”

“We’re looking into options right now,” said Chase.

“I might have a plan that can sort it. We’re close enough that if we jump 10,000 km, we can launch a torpedo at point-blank range and jump just out of their weapons range.”

“And the engines can hold up for this?”

Dryden gave something of a shrug. “Normally I would say no without question. However, considering the alternatives, we’re damned if we do and damned if we don’t,” replied Dryden. “The engines are still cooling off from the return jump, but it’s short enough that it shouldn’t overheat things too much. And by that point, a second jump of a few hundred kilometres is pretty much moot. All we’re doing is buying ourselves a minute or so for their targeting computers to update, but that might just be enough.”

“Where should we target the torpedo?” asked Chase. Winter enlarged a schematic of the enemy vessel on her weapons station.

“Based on their power supply and defence set-up, we’re pretty sure this section on their lower hull is the command centre,” said Winter.

“What if we just disabled it?” suggested Grace.

Dryden drew in a deep breath. “In all honesty, Commander, we don’t want to risk overpowering our engine in a last-ditch attempt to simply disable them. You saw what they did to Hemara. They’ll not have an easy time occupying it without air support.”

Chase knew he was right. They could try not to do too much damage, but in all likelihood, it would probably result in the ship going up either way.

“How long do you want to give this attempt at negotiations a try?” Dryden asked bluntly. It was a fair question. The fighters were not letting up. He would have to make that call in the next few minutes.

“How likely is it that the engines are going to go bang when we try it?” said Chase.

“Right now? About 30%,” he said honestly. This seemed way too high for Chase at this point.

“There’s about a 33% chance of it if we do nothing,” he added.

“Wokoma,” asked Chase. “Are you still broadcasting the audio translation?”

“Yes, sir,” she replied. “Still no response.”

“Okay,” said Chase, looking back at Dryden. “Do it.”

A power relay above the bridge port side gave out and sparks rained down. Chase held on to his seat armrests. Trafalgar’s weapons continued their attempt to disable the fighters but had little effect.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“If we’re going to do this, it has to be now,” said Dryden. “Much more of this and I can’t guarantee the engines will be up to it.”

“Wokoma, anything?” Chased asked, failing to keep the desperation out of his voice.

“No. No response from the hostiles.”

That was it then. They had attempted a negotiation. No response had been forthcoming. It was either kill or be killed.

“Mr Dryden,” ordered Chase. “Jump,”

Dryden immediately moved over to the auxiliary engineering station on the port side of the bridge. He tapped a switch.

“Engine room, this is Dryden. Prepare for a rapid succession of jumps. Orders coming in from the helm now.” He nodded.

“Helm, plot the jumps. Winter, ready the torpedos,” said Chase.

“Target their bridge.”

There were more explosions.

“We’re losing the armour, hull breaches imminent,” said Wokoma.

“Jump!” said Chase. The slight sense of nausea was replaced by an immediate feeling that he was going to vomit, and the ship went into a roll as the drive warmed up.

He watched the forward viewer as the fighters buzzing around them seemed to disappear, and the planet went from being a ball in the distance to taking up most of the view, with the hostile vessel directly in front of them. Winter did not wait for a confirmation of her orders, launching the torpedoes. Chase gave the nod, and moments later, the jump drive immediately kicked back in.

Before the previous wave of nausea had a chance to leave Chase’s stomach, the ship now went from taking up half the forward view to one-eighth of it.

“Well, we’re still here,” said Chase. “Sub-light engines, put as much distance between us as you can and kill that hologram and comms.”

There were a few moments of whoops around the bridge as people celebrated the plan’s success.

“Winter, Time to impact?”

“Ten seconds,” Winter replied.

There was an alert from Wokoma’s station, and she turned around to report it to Chase. The look of horror on her face already told him what she was about to say.

“Commander, I’m…” she paused, trying to get the words out. “I’m getting a transmission from the hostile ship.”

Goddammit, Chase thought. They had taken this long to reply. Why now?

“We’ve not got enough juice to do that again, do we, Mr Dryden?” Chase asked.

“Fraid not, boss,” Dryden replied, “and I fear if we tried it, they would be prepared.”

“Winter, can we disarm torpedoes before they hit?”

“I can, if I do it right now,” said Winter, emphasising the decision time they didn’t have.

Chase nodded.

“Do it.” He watched on the viewscreen as a minor explosion erupted several hundred metres from the hostile vessel’s bow.

“Any damage?”

“Negative,” Wokoma replied.

Chase watched the readouts. The enemy fighters were holding position, and for the moment they were not firing at them. There might just be a chance yet.

Chase said, “Okay, let’s get things ready. Is the translator hooked up to the system?”

“As best we can,” said Wokoma.

“Then by all means,” said Chase, “Let’s answer the hail.”

The screen activated over the forward viewport. The hostiles were humanoid, bipedal, the standard two arms and two legs, dressed in body army, heads covered by helmets.

Presumably, the captain was standing at the front of the bridge, addressing them directly.

“How is it that you know our language?” he said. There was the tiniest fraction of a delay, as if the sound and the video had fallen a fraction of a second out of sync, presumably giving the translator time to work.

“My name is Commander Nathan Chase of the Alpha Persei Cluster Navy.” Chase stood up and walked towards the screen.

No pressure, he thought to himself, but this is one of those moments definitely ending up in history books. He tried not to fuck it up.

“Which traitor taught you our language?” the alien repeated.

Chase didn’t want to give away that they had found some quite useful resources.

“Please, whom am I addressing?” he said.

Another of the hostiles moved forward.

“You are addressing the Ruler of All Our Realms!” it shouted.