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She smiled to herself as the fortresses started to open fire in earnest. This time, at least, the rebels would know that they had been kissed. And if they wanted to jump away, she would have time to rebuild her defences.

All right, you bastard, she thought, feeling an odd burst of self-satisfaction. What else do you have up your sleeve?

Chapter Sixteen

“Sir,” the tactical officer said, “the fortresses have gone to rapid fire.”

Colin nodded, unsurprised. Whoever was in command of the defences wasn’t going to give up easily — and, without the arsenal ships, the odds were actually fairly even. Colin could disengage at any point, of course, but that would have left a determined enemy commander sitting on one victory and ready to support the Imperial Navy when it returned to the sector.

“Continue firing,” he ordered. So far, the fortresses had been damaged — but none of them had actually been destroyed completely. “Lock all weapons on the fortresses. Leave the remaining automated systems alone.”

He hesitated, then added a second command. “And repeat our surrender offer,” he added. “Someone might realise that they cannot hope to win the fight.”

* * *

The spy had been kept busy as soon as the fleet flickered away from the RV point, which was useful as it stopped her worrying about the command she’d inserted into the computer. But now, waiting for the superdreadnaught to be damaged so the damage control teams could spring into action, she found it all too easy to worry. It would be hard for someone to notice anything amiss in the heat of battle, but who knew what might be noticed when rebel analysts looked at the recordings after the battle. They would certainly want to analyse what had happened, if only to draw what lessons they could from the fighting.

She started as a hand touched her shoulder. “Don’t worry about it,” Crewman Nix told her. He was a fresh-faced young man, a imp mutineer rather than someone who’d joined up after the rebels had captured Camelot. And the spy knew he wanted to get her into bed. The signs were unmistakable. “If the ship is too badly damaged, the Captain will just jump us out.”

The spy nodded, reluctantly. It was her first battle, both in actual fact and by the papers she’d presented when she’d signed up. Not that the rebels had been very formal, thankfully; they certainly hadn’t tried to conduct any sort of background check. But then, that would have been impossible in the Beyond. All they could reasonably do was speak to people who had known her as an engineer, none of whom had any reason to suspect her of anything beyond price-gouging.

She eyed Nix as he turned away to reassure others. If she took him to bed — or, rather, allowed him to take her to bed — would it gain her anything she wanted? Nix might be enthusiastic, but he hadn’t been promoted. And that suggested he really wasn’t likely to be promoted. She knew she could seduce him — and leave him thinking that he’d seduced her — but would it be worth the effort?

The thought kept her from thinking about the command network. Now, with the ship heavily involved in battle, a signal would be sent from the superdreadnaught to any Imperial Intelligence listening post that happened to be in the system. Tyson was an important system, the spy knew, even if it wasn’t anything like as important as Morrison. There would be a listening post, she was sure, and the message would be passed on to the local office. She knew the rough time the rebel fleet intended to arrive at Morrison…

And, if she was lucky, there would be a chance to pass more precise messages to her superiors later.

The superdreadnaught rocked, violently. Alarms sounded, only to be stilled a moment later as the sensors realised that there was no actual damage. But it was only a matter of time.

* * *

Admiral Nelson is taking heavy fire,” the tactical officer reported. “They’re actually focusing their attention on her.”

Colin lifted an eyebrow. Could the enemy think that they’d located the command ship?

“Move her back, then alter the screen’s positioning to provide additional cover,” Colin ordered, dismissing the thought for later contemplation. They’d taken every precaution to prevent the enemy from identifying the command ship — and they seemed to have succeeded, given that the enemy had targeted the wrong ship. Or had they merely picked a superdreadnaught at random?

He settled back and watched as the two sides converged. It would all be over soon.

* * *

Ravi swore under her breath as she watched another flight of missiles fall to rebel point defence fire. The bastards had definitely improved, even though her sensors insisted that there were no significant improvements to their active sensors. But that didn’t prove anything. Missiles were easy to track in flight, even half-blind passive sensors would be able to track them and provide a targeting lock for point defence. And her own point defence was being worn down quite badly…

The station rocked violently as four more missiles slammed against the weakened shields. Two more shield generators burned out, forcing the crews to move the others to shield the entire hull. But the weakening shields would be easy to detect; scenting weakness, the rebel missiles altered course, bearing down on her fortress and slamming into her shields. New alarms sounded as the shields staggered under their blows, then failed completely. The remainder of the defences weren’t in much better state.

Ravi looked up at the display, then made up her mind. “Cease fire,” she ordered. “Order the starships to make their way out of the gravity well and flicker out, then raise the rebels and tell them we want to surrender.”

It was frighteningly easy to imagine that the rebels would be no longer willing to accept surrender. Two enemy superdreadnaughts had been badly hit, while several smaller craft had been destroyed outright. She’d lost more, naturally, but she’d still given them a bloody nose. And there were too many Imperial Navy commanders who would have gleefully destroyed her stations just to avenge his hurt pride…

“They’re holding fire,” the tactical officer said.

“Picking up a signal,” the communications officer added.

Ravi let out a long breath. “Put them though,” she ordered.

A grim-faced young man appeared on the screen. Ravi couldn’t help noticing that Colin Walker seemed to have aged, although his blue eyes were as cold as they had seemed in his official file. He wore a white uniform that seemed oddly familiar; it took her several moments to realise that it was an Imperial Navy uniform, just cut from white cloth instead of blue or black. A gesture of defiance or continuity, she asked herself. There was no way to know.

“I am Admiral Walker,” he said. Ravi fought down the urge to point out that self-promotion was no promotion. If nothing else, Walker had won his spurs in combat. “Do I understand that you wish to surrender?”

Ravi nodded, hoping that they would be offered the original terms.

“My Marines will board your fortresses,” Walker informed her. “You and your crews are ordered to unlock any security protocols, then refrain from wiping your computer cores and destroying your supplies. Any attempt to do so — or to offer armed resistance to my men — will be viewed as restarting hostilities. Do you understand me?”

I still gave you a bloody nose, you prick, Ravi thought.

She felt a cold wave of anger, which she fought down. The supplies stored in orbit around Tyson would keep the rebels going for several weeks, if they were allowed to take them intact. She could destroy them — charges were already rigged — but they’d slaughter her crews if she did. And yet… leaving them intact might cost the Imperial Navy the next battle, when the rebels turned them against the Empire.