WarAvocat stopped stomping. She was right.
He grinned.
VII Gemina climbed onto the Web but moved only a short distance. Two minutes after Seeker reported a bleep of a signal from the watcher, the Guardship broke back off on top of the Outsider, unleashing a Hellspinner storm so intense not a thought escaped.
WarAvocat disposed his secondaries and waited.
Only two ships survived his ambush.
VII Gemina clambered onto the Web cursed by Capitola Primagenia's bureaucratic legions for leaving them to fend for themselves.
Now for the Ku.
— 131 —
Turtle faced a display representing starspace from Starbase to Gateway. His lieutenants were with him, arguing about how best to deploy the fleet—not quite in the manner their employers would have approved. For safety's sake, the discussion took place in warrior ghifu dialect.
They reached agreement. Turtle moved to the Outsider commtechs, gave them orders to relay to group commanders.
Delicate Harmony climbed onto the strand, moved toward Starbase, broke away again before reaching the end of the strand, sneaked forward to watch for the projectile strike coming in from behind Starbase.
The Outsider crew, human and methane breather, were awed by their target. They had not believed before. Not really.
The Valerena wandered into the combat center while the gawking was going on. Nobody paid any attention. She had become a familiar haunt. When she got bored she went roaming, looking for an Outsider who could be led into temptation.
She paused behind the commtechs, peered at a screen. "Is that Starbase?"
One of the Ku told her it was. The Outsiders understood body language better than they did the speech of Canon. She toyed with a man's shoulder for a while. Then she just slipped past, hit a few keys, and started yelling at Starbase to look out.
She ended up restrained by two of Turtle's people. Everyone stood around looking at one another. Turtle checked the board. "She missed the safety key. It didn't go out. You. You." He picked two of his own and four Outsiders. "Collect the hostages. Lock them in the mess of the number two rider. They will have what they need there and there will be no more of this nonsense."
They went.
"Get to work." Turtle assumed his station, apparently studying Starbase.
The Valerena had played that well. The rest would have to manage as cleverly if they were to survive.
There was a lot of comm chatter. Starbase was engaged with the backside force. Turtle beckoned the senior Outsider on duty. "Right on schedule. We have fourteen hours. I want as many men rested as possible."
Those Turtle had sent to confine the hostages returned. One Ku twitched, so. Provik had surrendered the toxin he had been carrying disguised as medicine, finally.
He felt a stir of remorse, but his bets were down. He had chosen a narrow path between light and shadow. He could not balk at the price.
More waiting. More trying hours as the backside force hurtled closer, as his human and nonhuman supporters ran cautious backup checks throughout Delicate Harmony, seeking a flaw in the plan.
The Outsider techs sounded an alarm when they had the backside force in detection. Turtle hurried into Combat. What he saw troubled him. Starbase had defended itself better than expected. "The fools," he grumbled. "Send the move order now."
Techs looked at him askance. They had trouble with fluid tactics. They made a plan, they stuck to the plan. "They've lost three of the four projectiles targeted on Starbase. They haven't redirected any of the others. It's probably too late, but we'll try to adjust."
He was not entirely displeased.
The Godspeakers sent the move order to the main fleet.
Turtle determined which projectiles had chances of warping course enough to impact Starbase. "Code this and send it to projectiles Three and Nine," he told a commtech.
"Sir, if I send this, they'll know we're here."
"If you don't, we'll have no chance of victory." He faced the senior Outsider. "Man the fighters and number one rider. When that message passes Starbase, they'll send someone to investigate."
The Outsider looked at him hard, but fearfully, not suspiciously.
"This is your chance to be heroes. You plan to live forever? Wessel, Staich, the rest of you," he told his own people, "clear away as the combat crew cornes on."
He got arguments. He snapped, "I want the best people at every post. That isn't you. Wait in your quarters till I need you. Comm. Has that order gone out?"
"Yes sir."
"Alarm given? Secondaries manning?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good." The battle crew began replacing the watch. "Tell the secondaries they may separate at their discretion, but they're to stay close so we cast one shadow."
Twelve men aboard the fighters. Forty-two aboard the rider. That improved the odds. Not enough if the toxin failed, but some.
Detection reported, "Two ships headed this way, sir."
Turtle watched the data develop till he was sure they faced a standard Guardship rider and a courier that would be fast but lightly armed and screened. He ran simulations, chose his method of attack.
The Godspeakers reported the fleet on the strand, coming.
Time passed. Detection found two more riders outbound, running in the red. The first two had begun decelerating. Turtle said, "They see we're like nothing they've faced before. They're probably everything Starbase has left. We'll take the first two before we have to fight all four."
His attack was straightforward, the fighters going for the messenger, Delicate Harmony and its rider bracketing the enemy ridership. The fighters finished the courier immediately. The rider was more stubborn. It got in one lucky hit before retiring with heavy damage. The second pair closed fast.
Turtle checked the time. His own people should be in place. "Man the number two rider." He got no arguments.
He prepped detailed orders for the battle groups when the fleet came sleeting in.
The backside force was closing fast. The second rider launched.
For a moment he felt lonely. Now he was the only non-Outsider on the main. How long till they figured it out? "Are those orders loaded?"
"Yes sir."
"Key them as soon as they break away. Don't wait for my order." He disposed his riders and fighters for attack passes meant to look innovative but designed to let the number two rider behave oddly.
He asked for time marks. Just over six minutes till the projectiles arrived. "Anyone has personal business, now is the time." He left them smirking. Strange people.
He hurried along a passageway, brushed the timer arm on a device his people had installed where the Godspeakers were blind. There was a lot they could not see. They had concentrated on obvious areas, like the bridge.
He had to pass the hatches that led to the number two rider bay. That was an area the Godspeakers did not monitor. Odd, their tapestry of concerns and fears.
He collected a sidearm his people had left, taken from one of the ridership crew, whom they had overcome as they had reported aboard.
Lot of good the weapon would do, him alone with one hundred sixteen Outsiders and six Godspeakers. But great raw material for the Ku legend weavers, the lone hero staying to buy time for his comrades.
Great stuff in stories. Not so great when you were there. But certainly an appropriate end for a dragonslayer who had stepped out of the obscurity of ages to raise the sword of honor one last time and script a cataclysm that would devour empires....
Whoa!
He was amused with himself. Had he developed a mild megalomania?
He returned to combat. Things had gone predictably outside. Crew concentrated on their jobs. They were not yet suspicious.