"Can you help her?" Merriwether demanded over the command circuit.
"It'll be a tough shot, Captain. The enemy's between us and Tasmania. We may hit our own ships or the lifeboats."
"If you get a shot, take it!" Merriwether ordered.
"Aye, Captain."
Within seconds the weapons control officer came back up. "Sir, Tasmania's clean, but she'll need a new coat of paint. We picked the last two bogies right off her back."
Merriwether acknowledged and switched her attention to her own ship. Three interceptors were closing on widely separated tracks. One of them disappeared from the screen—a kill. Moments later a second one was destroyed. The third enemy ship pressed closer and closer through the most active quadrant, taking advantage of the recharging batteries. Merriwether wondered if her weapons people had spent too much time worrying about Tasmania. The bogey streaked within lethal firing range. The collision alarm sounded, and Merriwether felt the hollow crunch of explosive impact somewhere deep within her ship. The enemy interceptor had thrust its knife.
The konish pilot swept past the looming shape of the alien ship, maneuvering desperately to avoid the sure death of energy beams. With grim satisfaction, he watched his laser ripple across the thin metal skin of the starship. His missiles had already struck home. Every second of survival this close to the enemy was a victory, his radar images flashing back to Kon, sending vital intelligence data to Defense Command. The information would increase the success of subsequent intercepts, and his death would not be in vain, for he knew he would surely die.
The energy beam struck with merciful instantaneity, and the pilot's atoms joined those of his ship and became one with the universe.
"Damage control, I need reports, now!" Merriwether demanded. The second wave had been destroyed.
"All operations stations are functioning," the officer-of-thedeck reported. "We took missile hits in the core, Level 30, frame 123, above the 'vette bays. Overpressure shield is intact, but battle armor in bay one is penetrated. Damage control reports numerous residual fires. Habitability ring was holed by laser blasts in two places. Preliminary casualty report is four dead, ten injured and eight missing—probably overboard."
Merriwether second-guessed herself—she should have launched lifeboats.
"The fleet? How's the fleet?" she asked her operations officer. "Three corvettes lost, Captain," the operations officer responded. "Including Eagle One."
"How's Tasmania?" Merriwether asked, shaking her head— Eagle One was one of Eire's corvettes—one of hers.
"She's in bad shape, but she's asking us if we need any help." Merriwether smiled grimly.
"Peregrine One is requesting a tug assist for a no-fuel approach, Captain," reported the officer-of-the-deck. "She's completely out of fuel and Tasmania can't take her aboard."
"Bring her in. Can she make it on her own?"
"Negative," said the officer-of-the-deck. "She's bone dry and coasting. We have tugs collecting lifeboats in position to intercept." "Have a tug bring her in," Merriwether ordered.
The officers of the Planetary Defense Senior Command filed into the amphitheater and took their usual seats at the semicircular table beneath the briefing stage. Gorruk was irritated by the briefing delay. He was too busy to be sitting idle, waiting for others to be on time; the responsibilities of running half the world were pressing. And rumors of strange militia movements were filtering in. Gorruk sat and fumed, his gaze wandering about the auditorium. His scan stopped suddenly. Chief Scientist Samamkook was fraternizing with newly arrived noblekones, immersed in deep discussions, on the other side of the center aisle—the enemy side. Gorruk's anger flowered explosively. General Talsali addressed the room, but Gorruk was not listening. Why would Samamkook be consorting with southerners? Gorruk studied the noblekones in Samamkook' s company. They were familiar but Gorruk could not place them. The cluster of noblekones and Samamkook turned to stare directly at him, their eyes unwavering.
"— General Gorruk!" Talsali said loudly, summoning Gorruk' s attention.
Gorruk levered his steely glance from Samamkook and turned to face the podium. "Excuse me, General. Were you addressing me?"
"Yes, most excellent General," Talsali replied sternly, in a decidedly undiplomatic tone. "We have received a petition to suspend the intercepts. It has been presented to and approved by all legal authorities of the southern hemisphere. I have been asked to seek concurrence of the northern governments."
"Suspend the intercepts? Absurd! We are under attack!" An angry murmur swelled.
"What are the results of our second wave?" he demanded.
"The intercepts go well, most excellent Emperor-General," Talsali replied, polite in form only. "Our preliminary assessment is that two alien starships have been disabled, one of them severely. Their defensive array has broken down and the screening ships have suffered losses. Our next two waves are in position to severely damage the enemy fleet. Perhaps to destroy it."
"And you want to stop?" Gorruk was dumbfounded.
"It is not solely my decision, most excellent General," responded the defense commander. "New information has become available indicating the aliens have come in peace. I seek permission to suspend our attacks while this evidence is presented and corroborated."
Gorruk shot Samamkook a glance. The old kone crawled toward the podium.
"Who presents this evidence?" Gorruk demanded.
"It is your own science advisor, most excellent General, the renowned astronomer, Chief Scientist Samamkook," Talsali said, his voice seeded with sweet irony.
Gorruk stood erect. "Madness! Scientist Samamkook! Return to your seat! The governments of the northern hemisphere do not support this insanity. I demand the interception of the alien fleet continue with full fury and commitment."
Samamkook labored up the ramp to the briefer's stage. Gorruk' s face blackened with rage; the tendons in his monstrous neck pulled the skin tight. Talsali prudently took several retreating steps, falling back on all fours. Two of Gorruk' s generals galloped toward the exits. Planetary Defense troopers hesitated but let them through.
"You have forgotten where you are!" Gorruk screamed, spittle flying from his gaping mouth. "This is my realm! You are here at my pleasure!"
"Not your realm, General," Samamkook said, his brittle old voice amplified by the sound system. He stood erect at the briefer's lectern, stretching his twisted and withered form into a regal posture. "You stole it from a thief. We recover it in the name of the ancient rightful rulers." The audience gasped.
Gorruk could not believe his senses.
"What authority—by what power do you make this pronouncement, Scientist?" Gorruk inquired with a wolfish snarl. A commotion could be heard in the hallway—no doubt his soldiers. He would soon put an end to this ancient upstart.
"As steward for the Regent of Ollant!" the tottering scientist announced. "As steward for the Regent of House Ollant, I command that our attacking forces be recalled immediately. I speak for all northern kones, noble and common. The aliens are not our enemy. Our enemy is here, in our midst! Gorruk be damned!"