Ships broadcast their location, but because communication within a sector was instantaneous, most ships ignored anything outside a known radius of their own ship unless they were specifically contacting another ship. Otherwise, they’d drown in the information overload.
Kari Wang gave coordinates.
Ean looked at the positions. Sure, the ships were thousands of kilometers apart—but that was normal for jumps. These three ships had arrived in close succession, and had arrived close to where the Eleven had jumped.
Now they were making for the nearest ship.
Ean had brought the Wendell into this battle and left him there. “We have to go back and rescue him.”
“We have a battle plan. Other ships are working to our timetable, have already started moving. What do you want me to do? Call them up, and say, ‘Sorry, we’ll be delayed’?”
Yes, he did. “We can’t leave one of our own fleet.”
“This is war, Lambert.”
Another ship arrived. Then another. Gate Union intended to make sure of their kill.
War or not, Ean couldn’t leave Wendell there to face five ships. He opened his mouth to sing.
Kari Wang took out her blaster. “You jump us back to that ship, and you’re a dead man.”
Bhaksir jumped up hurriedly. “I can’t let you do that, Captain.”
Ean didn’t think Kari Wang would kill him, but she would knock him out, and he wouldn’t be any use to anyone then. He closed his mouth.
Maybe he should try singing Wendell home. Or… “Why don’t I swap? Like we did with Confluence Station? That won’t cause too much delay, and we know it works.”
“Last time we did that, we weren’t traveling at this speed,” but he could see she was considering it.
“The Eleven knows what to do. And it’s not like we’re doing anything dangerous.” He hoped. “We’re switching places.”
“Can you guarantee that?”
He wanted to lie. “No.”
She put her blaster away. “If you’d said yes, Lambert, we wouldn’t be thinking of this.”
If he couldn’t guarantee it, why was she thinking of it? “I will do my best to make it as safe as we can.”
“I’m not sure that’s the right approach with you.” Kari Wang turned to the screen. “So, Wendell, you’ve five ships headed toward you. I’m sure you’d like to fight your way out of it, but Lambert has a suggestion.”
“They’re not good odds this end,” Wendell admitted. “We only have six warheads. I’ll listen to any suggestions.”
His crew were already making plans. Ean could see them, calculating distances and trajectories.
“We’re thinking a swap, much like Lambert did with Confluence Station. We don’t want to swap too often, or I’ll lose too much trajectory.”
“Minimum number of swaps.” Wendell scratched his chin.
“Minimum number any sane person would do. I don’t want to die of fright doing it.”
Was she talking about him or about Wendell?
“Give me some calculations, Piers, and a safety margin.”
Wendell came up with three jumps to get all five ships. “We could do it in two, but you’ll be getting close to one of the ships.”
It meant a change in course, and Wendell had planned that so it looked as if he were trying to avoid one of the ships, which in fact took him into the path of another two.
“With luck, they’ll see what you do to the first two, and the rest will retreat to regroup,” Wendell said. “That’s what I would do.”
Provided everything worked as planned.
They watched the ships move closer to Wendell. Too close. What if the Wendell was destroyed before the Eleven swapped? Atmosphere on the Wendell was calm, ready for battle. Wendell paced around the bridge, slow and careful, as if he wanted to cover every centimeter of surface.
On the Eleven, there was a lot of nervous excitement. Kari Wang continued to drill her crew, treating it like a training exercise. Ean wasn’t sure if she believed it was, if it was to keep them calm, or if she thought they needed more training.
Two hours ago, Ean had been listening to Michelle tell them Emperor Yu had called Abram a traitor.
The Eleven drew closer to the battle. The Wendell grew closer to the warships.
“Shields up,” Wendell said, as the first ship fired. “Take evasive action as needed but keep heading toward those ships.”
Eventually, the two ships were as close as planned. The Wendell took some damage, but Wendell’s crew were good and the Gate Union ships wary, so damage was minimal.
Wendell stopped pacing. “We’re in range.”
Commodore Summers came online. “You are within range of our sensors, Eleven.”
“Good,” Kari Wang said. “Ean. Switch.”
Ean sang the request. “Switch places, with the Wendell, please. Like you did the other night with Confluence Station.”
“Preparing to enter the void,” Kari Wang said, but by the time she’d said it, they were out the other side.
“Captain Kari Wang?” Summers said.
“One moment,” Kari Wang said. “Status report?”
“We’re about to get shot,” Mael said.
“Thank you, Mael, that’s truly helpful.”
But Mael was already adding, “One ship at 234.23.33, one at 235.24.186.”
“No one in range here,” Wendell said. “But I see a lot of ships within ten to twenty minutes.”
“Ean. Turn on the field.”
Ean sang the protective field on.
“Mael, set a course between the two ships. I want the Eleven to pass within nine kilometers of the first, then be ready to swing around and do the same for the other.”
The enemy ship frantically fired side rockets to turn. It was too slow. The protective field triggered at just under ten kilometers and spread outward from the Eleven. This time, Ean was listening for the quick, deep dirge of line nine. The enemy ship disappeared, its lines with it.
The Eleven and its crew sang with triumph.
A whole ship, gone in seconds.
Ean didn’t join the singing.
The green field spread out inexorably farther. Two hundred kilometers farther, then it stopped, held for thirty counts, then began to recede. All the while, the Eleven moved closer to the second ship.
Through line five on the second ship, Ean heard the captain requesting a jump. He held his breath. Abram always had a jump ready. Please let these people have a jump ready.
Mael counted off the distance on one of the human screens. “Two hundred eighty kilometers. Two hundred seventy kilometers. Two hundred sixty kilometers.”
The clerk assigning jumps sounded the same as the one in the Roscracian sector. “Please be aware requesting an immediate jump incurs a surcharge of 200 percent. You must—”
“Confirmed and accepted as officer in charge,” the captain said. “Now send me the jump, or you’ll kill us all.”
“Please use a thumbprint and retina scan to confirm that you are the authorizing officer.”
“One hundred thirty,” Mael said. “One hundred twenty.”
The ship disappeared.
“One hundred ten. Ship has jumped.”
“Captain, please use a thumbprint and retina scan to confirm you are the authorizing officer,” the clerk at the other end of the now-empty line five repeated.
Ean blew on his hands, which were icy.
“They jumped cold.” Kari Wang shivered. “Ean, swap us back.”