Assuming the Patton perfectly balanced the burn from her five working motors. And the station's tie-downs didn't rip out under the strain. And Pier 7 was still at the exact center of gravity for the station. And about a dozen other assumptions that Kris hadn't thought of yet.
They must have all held. High Chance stayed together and headed down. And at the right moment after High Chance had swung close by the planet, Kris would interrupt the long slingshot of that orbit with a burn that parked the station in a lower orbit.
Kris checked her board. Laser 6 was now taking power. Laser 7, aft, was still down. Well, she planned to tackle Hank head on anyway.
''Where is she?'' the commodore demanded.
Flag Captain Merv Slovo noted that his young superior didn't ask where the station was, where the opposing forces were? No, it was ''where is she?'' Not for the first time he tasted the animosity between the young man and the woman. Letting a fight get personal had never been recommended in Command and Staff School. Clearly, the boy needed more book learning.
The captain leaned forward in his command chair. Normally, a flag officer would have his own bridge, own battle station. Someone high above Slovo had decided that the commodore and the captain should share their space. I wonder if they had any idea how much stomach lining this would cost me?
''Clearly, neither the station nor the ships are where they once were. Interesting first move on her part.''
''I don't need to be told where she isn't. Where is she?''
''Sensors?''
''We have residue of ionized exhaust. Lots of it.''
''Moving a station. Interesting.''
''She's headed for the moon. That's what she did against…'' The flag captain shot his commodore a withering glance. Don't say it… ''Ah, the intruders at Wardhaven.''
Slovo glanced at his board. It didn't make any sense to head for Chance's one moon. It was close, and there was no question the ships could make for it but—moving a station that far? ''I'm not sure about that, Commodore.''
''Boost for the moon,'' Commodore Peterwald ordered. ''She's doing to us what she did to—ah—them. You'll see.''
''That will involve more deceleration, dropping into a lower orbit. We'll be less able to see what's going on.''
''Trust me. I know that woman. She can only think of one thing at a time. And once she's found a good solution to a problem, she'll keep using it. No flexibility.''
Why did that sound so much like a description of the young man saying it? Slovo thought, but said, ''Navigator, lay in a course for the moon.''
''Aye aye, sir. I'm already working on it.''
''Get us on that heading for the moon.'' The young man ordered the older.
''Yes, sir.'' Who knows, maybe the Longknife girl had headed for the moon. And if she hadn't, the squadron would be safe for the trip. Maybe I can talk some sense into this young man. Not likely, but maybe.
The report came in from a ground station when Kris and company were on the other side of Chance. ''Four headed for the moon?'' Steve said. ''They took the bait.''
''At Wardhaven, we attacked the invaders after a swing around our moon,'' Kris said. ''I guess he thinks I'm predictable.'' Big mistake. ''Nelly, run me an assumed 1 g trip for Hank to the moon and back. Then calculate an orbit that will put us coming out from behind Chance as he comes back.''
''Assuming he comes back headed straight at us,'' Nelly said, ''you need to be in a 149 kilometer high orbit.''
''Sulwan, can we do that?''
''Just barely. Starting a burn now,'' she said and the Patton began to push the station into orbit.
''Very good, Sulwan. Nelly. Very good.'' Assuming she'd judged Captain Slovo right. He struck her as a head-on man, not a long tail-chase kind of guy. A few hours would tell.
Kris leaned back in her chair. On her board, Lasers 2 and 6 were now down. Laser 7 was up. It was that kind of day.
''Sensors, keep an eye on Jump Point Alpha. We haven't sent any communications for a couple of days,'' Kris said. ''Sooner or later, someone's bound to get curious. I know I would. With luck, they'll send a couple of battleships to ask what's up.''
''Yes, ma'am,'' the old chief said.
''If I knew there was a Longknife on the other side,'' Jack said from his seat near the helm where he could keep a good eye on everything, ''I'd send a whole squadron of battleships.''
''Not everyone has such a low opinion of me, Lieutenant.''
Jack glanced around the bridge and made a face.
''No fair polling my subordinates,'' Kris said.
''Ah, we've just been scanned by the Greenfeld squadron, ma'am,'' the chief reported.
''I wonder how it will go over?'' Kris said, and smiled.
''I'll be in my cabin,'' the commodore said, stamping from the bridge. ''Call me when you have something useful to tell me.''
Captain Slovo watched him go—and breathed a sigh when he was gone. The entire bridge seemed to relax around him. Then he turned back to his ordered duty. ''How do I force this Longknife girl to battle,'' he muttered. And maybe arrange it so that one or the other of them can realize that they are getting the worst of the fight and run. ''Navigator, when we complete this moon trip, I want us in an orbit opposite that station.''
''Opposite, sir?''
''Yes. I don't want to have to chase her around and around that damn ball. Let us trade shots at each other twice an orbit and with the range on our lasers, we'll be shooting at her a great deal of the time. She may dodge me some of the time, but she can't do it forever. All it will take is a couple of good hits to end this thing.'' And every ship in the squadron had an E for gunnery.
''Yes, sir.''
Chapter 18
Kris had the station where they wanted it—way lower than the specs allowed. Kris could almost feel the heat as the Patton and station collided with the microatmosphere at this altitude. Low and fast, that should make them harder to see, and harder to hit. Then again, the station was a sitting duck and the duck hunters had very long-range guns.
Unless Kris could talk that hunter out of a duck dinner.
First she needed to unhitch from the station and join her other ships. ''Station. Prepare to undock us.''
''There's a problem. Didn't you notice a clang awhile ago.''
''No.''
''Well, we did. The trundles on your tie-downs are off their rollers. Unless we can move them, you can't move.''
So maybe they hadn't quite balanced the fire of the five working motors to make up for the two useless ones. ''Steve, I don't look like much of a threat to Hank with your station hanging off the snout of my ship.''
''We're working on the problem.''
''I either roll out of here or I shoot my way out.''
''Anyone ever tell you you have quite an attitude.''
''Several.''
Kris sat back in her command seat and glowered at her board. Now Lasers 7, 8, and 9, her entire stern battery, were down. This is great. Where I have lasers, there's this station in my way, and where I don't have anything, my butt is hanging out.
Commanders were supposed to remain calm. Inspire confidence. Kris gnawed the inside of her lip and tried to fake it.
''Ah, Kris, could you try reverse on your maneuvering jets. Just a gentle tap,'' Steve asked. ''Remember, you've got to push this station out of this orbit real soon.''
''And fight. Helm, you heard the man. Just a tap.'' There was a horrible noise forward and the entire ship swayed.
''Thank you. That was a bit more than we wanted,'' Steve said.
''I couldn't do any less,'' the helmsman pleaded.
''You did fine. Steve, please fix this.''
''Ma'am, they're coming out from behind the moon,'' the sensor chief said. ''It looks like the bogies will come back at Chance in a clockwise orbit to our counterclockwise one.''