On Basilisk Station

the words wouldn't come, and she turned back towards Cardones just as he punched his firing key again.

A missile spat from Fearless, but only one, and a warning buzzer snarled. Cardones jerked at the sound and hit a system-test button. Then his shoulders clenched, and he turned towards his captain.

'Missile One is down, Ma'am. We're down to one tube.'

Honor stabbed her intercom key. 'Damage Control, this is the captain. What's the status of Missile One?' she snapped.

'Sorry, Ma'am.' Lieutenant Manning's voice was slurred and indistinct. 'Two of my people are dead down here. We've got damage reports from all over the ship, and—' The acting damage control officer paused, and his voice strengthened as he dragged himself back together. 'Sorry. What did you say, Ma'am?'

'Missile One. What's the status of Missile One?'

'Gone, Ma'am. We've got a four-meter hole in the starboard bow. The whole compartment's gone—and its crew.'

'Understood.' Honor released her key and looked back at Cardones. 'Continue the engagement with Missile Two, Guns,' she said.

'That last one must have hurt her bad, Sir,' Lieutenant Commander Jamal said, and Coglin grinned back at him in triumph. The range was down to under six million kilometers, and the vaporized alloy and atmosphere streaming back from Fearless's bow was plain on their sensors. More than that, the cruiser was firing only single-missile salvos. Now if only—

Sirius shuddered as another Manticoran missile detonated just astern of her, and crimson damage signals flashed on Coglin's panel.

'Spinal Four gone, Sir!' someone reported. 'We've lost the secondary fire control sensors, too. Primaries unaffected.'

Coglin spat out a savage curse. 'Hit that fucker again, Jamal!' he snarled.

Dominica Santos waved MacBride aside and slammed the last replacement box into place. The green ready light glowed, and she switched back to Central Damage Control's net.

'We're back up, Al!' she snapped.

'Understood, Ma'am. I'm initiating circuit tes—'

'Fuck that!' Santos barked. 'There's no time for tests. Just tell the Captain we're in and give these impellers juice now!'

Honor's eyes blazed like hot, brown steel as Fearless's acceleration surged suddenly back up. The maimed cruiser gathered herself, driving forward, and she sensed her ship's determination like her own. Numbers flickered upward on her maneuvering plot, and her lips drew back in a hungry snarl as Killian read them off.

'Five hundred ... five-zero-three ... five-zero-six ... five-zero-eight gravities, Captain!' the helmsman announced. 'Steady at five-zero-eight.'

'Excellent, Chief Killian! Go to Delta-Niner-Six.'

'Aye, aye, Ma'am. Going to Delta-Niner-Six.'

'Their acceleration's coming back up, Captain,' Jamal reported tensely. 'It doesn't seem— No, Sir, it's definitely not going all the way back up. It's leveling off.'

'What is it?' Coglin snapped.

'I make it approximately five-oh-eight gees, Sir. Call it five KPS squared. And she's starting to make some real evasion maneuvers.'

'Shit!' Coglin caught himself before he punched the arm of his chair again, then glared at the weaving, dodging dot on his display. Goddamn it to hell, what did it take to stop that ship?!

Lieutenant Commander Santos headed aft, running back towards Central Damage Control. She didn't know what else had happened while she was up forward, but she knew it had been bad, and—

A fresh, brutal blow threw her from her feet, and she skidded down the passageway on her belly.

The warhead detonated at fifteen hundred kilometers, and twenty-five separate beams of energy stabbed out from its heart.

Two of them hit Fearless.

One struck almost amidships, ripping inward through half a dozen compartments. Nineteen men and women in its path died instantly as it gutted forward life support, slashed through the forward crew mess, and reduced two of the cruiser's port energy torpedo launchers to wreckage, but it didn't stop there. It sliced deep, just missing the combat information center, and ripped its ghastly way clear to the bridge itself.

Plating shattered, and Honor slammed her helmet shut as air screamed out through the gaping hole. Her suit whuffed tight, protecting her against vacuum, but some of her people were less lucky. Lieutenant Panowski never even had time to scream; the hit blasted huge chunks of bulkhead into splinters, and a flying axe of steel decapitated him in a fountain of gore, then carried on to smash his entire panel to spark-spewing ruin. Two of his yeomen died almost as quickly, and Chief Braun had been out of his chair, unprotected by his shock frame. He flew through the thinning air and slammed into a bulkhead, stunned and unable to move. He died in a flood of aspirated blood before anyone could reach him to close his helmet for him.

Mercedes Brigham's suit was daubed and streaked with scarlet where Panowski's blood had sprayed across her. She'd been looking at the astrogator when he died, and more of his blood dripped down her face where it had splashed before she closed her own helmet. She couldn't even wipe it, and she spat to clear it from her mouth as she brought her own computers on line to replace Panowski's.

Honor swept her gaze about the bridge. Sparks and smoke streamed up into the near vacuum as Panowski's splintered command station consumed itself, and her mouth tightened as she saw the way Webster clutched at his chest through his suit. The com officer hunched forward in his chair, his face gray, and blood bubbled at his nostrils.

'Damage control to the bridge! Corpsman to the bridge!' she barked, and made herself look away from her injured officer.

The second beam hit further forward, and Lieutenant Allen Manning stared at his console in horror as a lurid light began to flash. He unlocked his shock frame and shoved a corpse which once had been a friend from the chair beside him to clear an emergency panel, and his hands darted across it.

Nothing happened. The light continued to flash, and a harsh, ominous audio signal joined it. He hammered an alternate command sequence into the console, then tried still a third, and the light only flashed brighter still.

'Commander Santos!' he gasped into his intercom. There was no answer. 'Commander Santos, this is Manning! Please respond!'

'W-what is it, Allen?' The senior engineer sounded shaken and woozy, but Manning almost wept when he heard her voice.

'Fusion One, Ma'am! The mag bottle's fluctuating and I can't shut down from here—something's cut the circuits!'

'Oh, Jesus!' Santos's voice was no longer blurred. It was sharp and frightened. 'I'm on my way. Get forward and join me!'

'But, Commander, I can't leave Cen—'

'Goddamn it, Allen, move! Put Stevens on it!'

'I can't, Ma'am,' Manning said wildly, then clutched at his self-control. 'Stevens is dead, and Rierson can't leave Fusion Two. I'm all alone—there's no one left to take over down here!'

'Then tell the Skipper to fucking well get you someone,' Santos snarled. 'I need you up there right goddamned now!'

'Yes, Ma'am!'