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“In another fifteen minutes, there will be two hours’ travel time remaining to the inhabited planet,” Senior Watch Specialist Czilla reported.

Marphissa scowled at her display. The freighters were braking their velocity at the best rate they could manage, which didn’t say much. The planet was only about four light-minutes away now, so close that the images she was seeing of Supreme CEO Haris’s heavy cruiser and light cruiser were getting close to real time.

As of four minutes ago, neither cruiser had moved from its orbit about the planet.

Diaz knew what was bothering her. “Why don’t they do something? Maybe they are planning to surrender to us.”

“Half of their crews are probably snakes!” Marphissa objected. “They would have to be carrying out their orders from Haris right up until they mutinied, and why would Haris have them just sit in orbit instead of sending them to try to hit our freighters? They should have come after us days ago. It’s almost time to notify General Drakon to prepare for his landings, and those damned cruisers are still just sitting there! I don’t like this. It’s like they’re waiting for something.”

“What could they be waiting for?”

“If I knew that—”

Urgent alerts blared, cutting off Marphissa’s comment as she gazed at the warning symbols springing to life on her display.

“Kommodor!” Senior Watch Specialist Czilla called out, his voice shaking. “We have just seen more mobile forces, at the closest gas giant.”

“They’ve been behind it since we got here,” Diaz said, studying his display with an appalled expression. “They must have known we were coming and stayed positioned behind the gas giant to hide from us until now. How did they know and where did Haris get more ships?”

“Spies must be how. They knew not only that we were coming but about when we would get here. They must have a good inside source at Midway.” Marphissa stared at her display as the sensors on her warships combined their readings and produced an assessment. One battleship. One heavy cruiser. Three Hunter-Killers. She didn’t need the sensors to confirm the identity of the warships. “It’s Happy Hua’s flotilla. The one that escaped from Midway and bombarded Kane.”

Kapitan Diaz shook his head, bewildered. “Happy Hua’s flotilla? But they’re Syndicate. They should have attacked Haris.”

“They didn’t.” The only possible reason struck her. “Haris is still Syndicate. He must be. That’s the only reason why CEO Boucher wouldn’t have attacked him.”

“But,” Diaz gasped, still trying to recover from the surprise, “why hide out there? Why not hit us earlier? They’re far enough away now that we can outrun them if they come after us.”

“Not all of us can run fast enough,” Marphissa said, her voice grim. “They waited until we were deep into this star system and a long ways from any of the jump points. Have your specialists run some vectors. Tell me if there is any way for us to get our freighters out of this star system before that battleship can catch them.”

Diaz’s eyes went from her to his display, his face stricken. He gave the order to his specialists, then leaned close to Marphissa so he could speak in a very low voice. “I don’t need to run vectors. That battleship is in position to block any escape run by our freighters unless they head for the jump point for Kiribati.”

“That’s my assessment also,” Marphissa said. “I was hoping I was wrong.”

Less than a minute later, Czilla’s report confirmed her fears. “The only route the freighters could take that would avoid the battleship is heading across the star system and taking the jump point to Kiribati in Syndicate-controlled space, Kommodor. Any attempt to return to Midway or reach the jump point for Maui has a one hundred percent chance of intercept by the Syndicate battleship.”

“If only these freighters were faster!” Diaz snarled.

“They’re not,” Marphissa said. “You might as well wish that we had a couple of battleships of our own, or that Black Jack would show up in the nick of time again.” She gestured toward the comms specialist. “I need to speak with General Drakon immediately.”

It only took a few seconds for Drakon to reply. He did not look happy. “The crew of this freighter is really upset. Are they right? Is that a Syndicate battleship?”

“Yes. Commanded by the same snake CEO who attacked Midway and bombarded Kane.” Marphissa wasn’t about to sugarcoat the situation. “They were waiting for us.”

“No matter what else happens, we need to make sure that information gets back to Midway so that President Iceni will know we have a serious internal security problem. What are our options?”

“Option one,” Marphissa said, “the freighters continue on to the main inhabited world and drop you off before the battleship can get here to stop you. That gives you a fighting chance on the ground, but after that you’ll have to worry about a battleship overhead. Option two, all of the freighters continue onward at the best acceleration they can manage, all the way to the jump point for Kiribati, and jump for that star, hoping that the Syndicate doesn’t have anything waiting to ambush you at Kiribati.”

Drakon shook his head. “These freighters have limited life support, food, and water for the numbers of soldiers they are carrying. We have enough to get back to Midway if the landing was aborted, but traveling across the rest of the width of this star system followed by a jump for Kiribati would put us close to exhaustion of everything, even if there weren’t more Syndicate warships waiting there.”

“You could try doubling back, jumping back for Ulindi right after arriving at Kiribati, hoping that all of the Syndicate warships followed you to Kiribati, and that they wouldn’t get there until those clumsy freighters managed to get turned around. But you’d have to put your people on starvation rations starting right now, and even then you might not make it back before they were exhausted.”

She hadn’t worked much with Drakon in the past, and was impressed now when he accepted her assessment without demanding she come up with something easier even if it was also impossible. “What about heading back for Midway, or Maui?” Drakon asked.

“Neither of those are really an option. The battleship will catch you and blow those freighters apart. There’s no uncertainty. The freighters can’t outrun the battleship if they head for those jump points, and my ships cannot stop the battleship from destroying them.”

“All right.” Drakon rubbed his chin, eyeing her. “It sounds to me, Kommodor, like our best option is going ahead with the landing. As you said, that gives us a fighting chance, which we will not have otherwise.”

“That would be my recommendation, General. You may have to hold guns on the freighter crews to keep them from running before all of your forces are off-loaded. My ships will carry out the planned bombardment of targets on the surface, but after that you will be on your own. I will do everything I can to distract and engage and maybe even damage that battleship, but I cannot promise anything.”

Drakon smiled dourly, his lips pressed into a thin line. “We had a lot more warships available when that battleship attacked Midway, and they couldn’t stop it. Kommodor, from what I have seen of you, and from what both President Iceni and Captain Bradamont have said, we couldn’t ask for a better mobile forces officer to guard our backs against that battleship. I know that you will do everything possible with the forces available to you.”

“Th-thank you, sir.” It was not the response she had expected when she had called Drakon with such horrible news.