'I would say that confirms we've got the right planet,' Polphir remarked, hunching his shoulders as he stretched his arms forward over the control board.
'Seems reasonable,' Draycos agreed as he again lifted his head from Polphir's skin and studied the main sensor display. 'Iota Klestis,' he pronounced the syllables of the planet's alien name carefully. 'It has a certain rhythm to it.'
'Yes, it does,' Polphir said. 'I still vote we rename it.'
'It is hard to find a good rhyme for,' Draycos conceded. There were four ships showing on the screen now, small and compact. 'Odd. None of them matches the profile of the ship the contact has used before. At least, not according to probe team records.'
'Hmm.' Polphir abandoned his stretching and leaned closer to the display. 'You're right. You suppose one of the local governments decided to send a welcoming committee?'
'And they offered our contact a ride?'
'Or came without him,' Polphir said, his tone ominous. 'Maybe this planet isn't as unwanted as we were led to believe.'
'Perhaps.' Draycos rumbled in the back of his throat. 'Still, they do have the correct recognition signal.'
'Point,' Polphir agreed, swiveling around to a different section of the board. 'Let's see if we can get a better look at them.'
The image on the screen wavered, then came back sharper and clearer. Draycos had just enough time to notice the oversized engines and multiple weapons bubbles dotting their hulls—
And then, to his amazement, three of the bubbles on each of the ships popped open in perfect unison, and twelve missiles streaked out toward the Shontine/K'da ships.
'Alert!' someone shouted. 'We're under attack!'
'All warriors, to your stations,' the calmer voice of Shontine Commander Chayd cut over the sudden pandemonium from the control complex deck below. 'Defensive response only. This may simply be a case of mistaken identity. Comm station, talk to them—tell them who we are.'
'We are talking,' a K'da voice insisted as the ship began to shudder with the firing of its defense missiles. 'They're ignoring us.'
'Watch out—they're breaking formation,' Polphir warned, leaning close to stare out the bubble at the incoming ships. 'They're splitting up, one for each of us.'
'Batteries, free fire,' Chayd ordered. 'Concentrate on crippling their weapons. Maybe it's still not too late to talk some sense into them.'
Polphir clicked his tongue. 'I don't like this, Draycos,' he said quietly. 'Four of them; four of us. This isn't a chance meeting. They were waiting for us.'
'If they were, they didn't get the details very clear,' Draycos pointed out. 'Missiles that size, against hull armor as thick as ours? What do they think they're trying to prove?'
'And once they did know what they were up against, why split up their firepower?' Polphir added. 'Why not concentrate everything on one ship at a time?'
'Or just turn and run?' Draycos said. 'They're up to something, Polphir. The question is, what?'
Polphir never had a chance to reply. Instead, the ship sweeping toward them provided the answer. From a weapon bubble near its center came a sickly-yellowish flash, and a slender cone of violet light lanced out.
Draycos caught his breath, his mind refusing for that first awful second to believe what he was seeing. Here, hundreds of light-years from their beleaguered worlds, it was impossible that their enemy's most terrifying weapon should be ignited against them.
Yet there it was: the all-too-familiar cone of writhing violet light twisting its way toward the aft end of their ship. The weapon no shielding could block, and that no living being could survive.
The weapon called simply the Death. 'Evasive!' Chayd shouted. 'All ships!' But it was too late. As Draycos watched from his perch on Polphir's back and shoulders he could see that there would be no chance for any of them. All four attacking fighters had ignited the violet beams now, focusing them on the sterns of their chosen colony ships.
And over the all-ship intercom, Draycos could hear the horrified shouts, suddenly cut off, as the Shontine and K'da in the Havenseeker's engine room were caught in the beam and died.
'Evasive!' the commander shouted again, his voice hard and desperate.
A second later Draycos found himself grabbing for the grip bars at the edge of the control panel as the Havenseeker twisted downward out of the violet light sweeping slowly forward along the hull.
How their pilot had managed to coax a maneuver like that from such a big, lumbering ship he couldn't imagine. It was clear their attacker couldn't imagine it either, because for a few seconds the violet beam burned harmlessly through space above the ship as its target dropped out from under it. At the same time, a full salvo of missiles shot from the Havenseeker's flank toward the fighter.
Draycos held his breath as the fighter twisted madly to get out of the way. It successfully evaded most of the missiles; but then the law of averages caught up with it, and the last two slammed full into its side just aft of the Death weapon. 'Two hits!' Polphir called. 'The Death—' He broke off, sagging slightly in his seat as the rest of his lungful of air escaped without words.
There was nothing else to say. Despite the torn and blackened metal on the fighter's side where the Havenseeker's missiles had struck, the violet beam was still twisting its way out into space. It swiveled down toward the Havenseeker, still driving away on its evasive course, and settled again on the colony ship's side. Almost as if nothing had happened, the beam resumed its steady progress forward.
So too did the cries of the dying. With a shudder, Draycos reached out and shut off the nav bubble's intercom. There was nothing he could do to help the Shontine and K'da back there. Nothing anyone could do. The cries
