The reply flashed back at the speed of light. The new arrivals were Cruiser Squadron 20, five ships that remained of the ten that had started the battle.
The sun spat out another line of ships, tiny bright seeds flying across the darkness. They were on a different heading from the loyalist squadrons and therefore presumed to be enemy.
“All ships fire by salvo,” Chandra said. “No—wait. Stand by.”
The new arrivals’ course was peculiar. They weren’t racing after the loyalists, and they weren’t shaping a course to get between the loyalists and Magaria. In fact they didn’t seem to be heading anywhere in particular, and were soaring more or less into empty space.
No, Martinez realized. Not quite empty…
He stabbed the virtual button to send a message to Chandra.
“They’re running!”he said. “They’re heading for Wormhole Five.”
Which, he recalled, would eventually take them to the Naxid home world of Naxas.
“We’ve got to go after them!” he told Chandra. “The enemy fleetis the rebellion now. Magaria is nothing without them.”
“Fire by salvo,” Chandra said. “Stand by for course correction.”
Missiles were already being launched by the enemy squadron and by the remains of Squadron 20. It was very close range, and soon the space between them was filled with detonations.
Another squadron flung itself around Magaria’s sun, on track for Wormhole 5. They were already shedding missiles aimed at Cruiser Squadron 20.
“Turn to course zero-six-zero by zero-zero-one relative,” Chandra said. “Accelerate to six gravities, beginning at sixteen forty-one and one.”
“Engines, cut engines,” Martinez told Mersenne. “Pilot, do you have the new heading?”
“Yes, my lord.”
The loyalists began their pursuit of the fleeing enemy, gravity piling on their bones. The next two formations to pass the sun were loyalist, already engaged with the Naxid squadron astern of them. Antimatter burned and boiled in the space between ships.
Not all of the ships passed the sun intact. Two flew off on the trail ofJudge Urhug, unable to make use of their engines. It was unclear whether they were friendly or Naxid. Others fell into the wake of the loyalist squadrons, but reported too much damage to continue the engagement with the enemy.
If the Naxids had similar problems, they were silent about it.
More ships were flung out of the sun’s gravity well. Enemy squadrons vanished behind clouds of raging plasma. The radiation detector spiked as missiles reached fuel stores. The Naxids increased acceleration, and Michi did as well.Illustrious groaned to the increase in gravities. Martinez panted for breath against the leaden giant that squatted on his chest. Michi’s ships fired one salvo after another. Ships reported that their magazines were beginning to run low.
Eventually Michi called off the pursuit. The opposing forces had become too separated in their slingshot around the sun—those extra four minutes of thrust had thrown the loyalists too far away. The Naxids could keep their distance by matching Michi’s acceleration.
“Is Lady Michi the senior officer surviving?” Martinez asked Chandra.
“She must be,” Chandra answered. “Everyone’s following her orders.”
Martinez scanned the display, adding up the ships. The Orthodox Fleet had come into the battle with eighty-seven ships, and something like forty had survived—the exact number depended on how many of the three silent, uncontrolled ships now drifting for the void belonged to the loyalist fleet.
The Naxids had started with seventy-two warships, and thirty were now making their escape.
Ships on both sides were damaged, but at the moment it was impossible to say how many, or how badly.
What seemed clear was that combat had taken a heavy toll of flag officers. Tork’s ship was silent and drifting. Kringan’sJudge Kasapa hadn’t survived, unless it was another one of the ship-sized flotsam on course for nowhere. The third in command, Acting Junior Fleet Commander Laswip, had died with his ship.
That put Michi very definitely in charge.
“Captain Martinez.” Michi’s brusque voice rang in his head. “I’ll need you in my quarters at once.”
“Yes, my lady.”
Martinez let the virtual display fade and blinked as the control room swam into his vision for the first time in hours. Ancient Terran officers on horseback gazed sternly at him from the walls, and below the feet of their horses the displays glowed in colors that seemed dull compared to the brilliance of the virtual world.
“Comm,” Martinez said, “get me the premiere.”
When Kazakov answered, Martinez told her she was in command ofIllustrious while he was in conference.
“Yes, my lord.” She hesitated. “Congratulations, my lord.”
“Thank you.”
He unwebbed and swung forward to plant his feet on the deck, then wrenched off his helmet for a breath of somewhat freer air. While he still had the microphone on, he addressed the crew in Command.
“Well done, people. Take a breather and a stretch, but don’t go far. I’ll try to have food brought to you.”
As he stood, they turned to him, wheeling around in their acceleration cages. Mersenne raised his gloved hands and began to applaud. The others echoed him, the sound muffled by the vac suit fabric. Martinez grinned.
Hehad done rather well, he thought, considering his superiors’ mistakes.
He thanked them, then stripped off the cap that held his headphones, microphone, virtual projection net, and the diagnostic sensors that read his vital signs.
Michi had saidat once. He supposed he didn’t have time to change out of his suit.
Helmet under his arm, he left Command and trudged down the companionway to officers’ quarters. Michi, Chandra, Li, and Coen were grouped around Michi’s dining room, all bulky in their vac suits. Michi and Chandra were gazing at a wall display, the aides at datapads. Martinez entered and braced.
“Come in,” Michi said, her eyes intent on the wall display, and then she turned to him.
“I intend to pursue the enemy,” she said, “and finish them off once and for all.”
“Yes, my lady,” Martinez said.
Good idea,he thought.
THIRTY-THREE
“I’ve ordered all squadron commanders to give a complete report on the status of their ships,” Michi said. “If we can build a large enough force, I’m going to swing around the far side of Magaria and head right for Wormhole Five on the tail of the enemy.”
A sense of pure satisfaction sang like a Daimong chorus in Martinez’s head.
“Yes, my lady,” he said.
“You were right when you told Chandra that the Naxid fleetis the rebellion,” Michi said. “Kill their ships, and the war dies.” She returned her attention to the screen. “Yes, my lord,” she said. “Continue.”
“Compliancehas frames broken, two bulkheads breached, and two missile batteries severely damaged by heat,” reported the captain of theConformance. “I doubt it’ll be able to pull heavy gravities, and though a well-equipped dock might save her, it might be easier in the end to scrap the ship and build a new one.Submission has suffered hull breach in two places and the death of sixty-odd crew, but reports the hull damage is repairable and that repairs are ongoing. The captain reports the ship as ready for battle, though half of one missile battery has been permanently slagged.Conformance has suffered superficial damage, and is ready to continue the fight now, though our magazines are at two-fifths full strength.”
“Don’t worry about missiles,” Michi said. “We’ll get you more. Thank you, Lord Captain.”
Don’t worry about missiles. That was interesting. Perhaps Michi intended the damaged ships to donate their unfired missiles to those about to go in pursuit of the Naxids.