“Aye, aye, ma’am,” Singh replied immediately. “Order transmitted.”
“I take it we’re leaving,” Wright said quietly.
She nodded. “Dead heroes don’t help anyone.”
Another wave of plasma balls slammed into the Greengold, and Tehrani realized she’d waited too long as the lights on the bridge flickered and went out. It only took a moment for the emergency lights to turn on, bathing the area in red light. The CO’s chair and its integrated panel bank were nonfunctional. “Does anyone have power to their consoles?”
“Conn, TAO. Negative.”
“Conn, Navigation. Negative.”
“Conn, Communications. Negative.”
Well, that’s all the major systems. Tehrani brought her small hand comm up to her lips. “Conn, Engineering. Hodges, can you hear me?”
“Aye, Colonel!” Hodges’s grainy shouts came through the speaker. “No power is getting forward of section fifteen. We’re working on it.”
“Work faster, Major,” Tehrani replied. “Do you have engine control?”
“No, ma’am. Most of our electronics are fried.”
Yelling came from the background, but she couldn’t make it out.
“Emergency power coming on now, ma’am.”
Right on cue, computers and consoles came alive across the bridge. “Conn, TAO. I’ve got sensors back online.” Another series of weapons impacts jostled the crew. “Master Four Hundred Sixty-Nine continues to engage.”
“TAO, do we have any weapons left?” Tehrani asked, her voice taut with tension.
Bryan turned his head around. “No, ma’am. Neutron beams are offline, as is point defense.”
Tehrani made eye contact with Wright. “Abandon ship?”
“I’m sorry, skipper,” he said. “It’s time. A few more hits will probably see us off.”
As Tehrani opened her mouth to give the order, Bryan spoke. “Conn, TAO. Aspect change… inbound Lawrence drive wormholes!” He paused. “They’re CDF signature, ma’am.”
“How many?”
“A lot, ma’am. It looks to be the balance of our reinforcements.”
The tactical plot populated with dozens of new blue icons, many of them in close proximity to the Zvika Greengold. Hundreds of additional dots appeared as fighters and bombers streamed out of launch bays on the American carriers. Tehrani hummed a cheerful tune.
“Conn, Communications. Inbound vidlink from the USS Saratoga.” The American-built carriers had reverted to nation-state control several years prior.
“Put it through to my viewer, Lieutenant.”
A few seconds later, her monitor came to life with the image of the Saratoga’s bridge, focused on a man in a khaki service uniform. He furrowed his brow. “Colonel Kevin Reynolds, commanding officer, USS Saratoga, at your service. We’ve extended our shields around you, Zvika Greengold.”
Tehrani let out a breath. “It is a great relief to see you, Colonel Reynolds. We were getting worried.”
“Better late than never,” Reynolds said. “Maneuver behind us, and our battlegroup will protect you, Colonel.”
“I’m afraid our engines are down at the moment,” Tehrani replied. She looked at Wright. “ETA, XO?”
Wright shook his head. “Damage control is reporting it’ll be hours before we’re able to move with more than station-keeping thrusters.”
She turned back to her viewer. “I’m afraid the Greengold isn’t going anywhere for a while.”
“Roger that. Hold position as best as you can. We’ve got the watch, Colonel. Saratoga out.”
After the vidlink blinked out, Tehrani pulled up the tactical plot once more. The mass of blue icons continued to spread out, like a mighty rushing wind. Magnetic-cannon turrets fired, while bright-blue neutron beams crisscrossed space and lit up the blackness. Orange flame dotted the view in the Greengold’s windows, the telltale signature of an exploding warship. Meanwhile, the red dots representing the League vessels disappeared one by one.
As it sank in, she bowed her head and whispered a prayer in Arabic, thanking Allah for His help.
“Conn, TAO. Aspect change, all enemy contacts. They’re retreating, ma’am… straight toward the Lawrence limit at flank speed.”
“It’s over,” Wright said. “Dear God, that was too close.”
“More aptly, it’s just begun,” Tehrani replied.
Across the board, the League ships streamed away from Canaan’s beleaguered defenders, pursued by swarms of bombers and every available capital-class vessel. They were still full of fight, though. The newcomers took losses, as did the remaining CDF vessels. One group of enemies seemed to focus their firepower square on the Victory. Her shields had taken a beating for a while and were close to collapse. One burst of plasma balls finished the deflector power off, and hits landed on her hull.
Dozens of additional plasma balls slammed into the Victory. Tehrani glanced down at her tactical plot, hoping against hope that other friendly vessels were within range—anything that could shield the stricken flagship. A group of anti-ship missiles bobbed and weaved through multiple layers of integrated point defense, and while most were destroyed, one made it. It sailed through the shredded front armor of the mighty battleship and exploded within with a fiery blast of orange-and-blue flame. Secondary explosions blossomed across the forward hull and into the bridge tower. Tehrani could only watch in horror.
Silence filled the bridge, and a feeling of dread so dense that one could cut it with a knife descended across the room.
“Conn, TAO,” Bryan finally said. “Sierra One disabled.” He glanced back at her. “CSV Victory is transmitting a general distress call, and command of the fleet has transferred to General Saurez on the CSV Fernando Frontin.” A heavy cruiser, the Frontin was far less capable a warship than the Victory. “The fleet continues to advance.”
While his last words were superfluous, Tehrani was thankful her young tactical officer had uttered them. Almost instantly, a wave of relief swept the bridge. At the current stage of the fight, morale was incredibly powerful. The outcome still teetered on a knife’s edge, and a perception that without Irvine, all hope was lost would quickly become fatal. Still, being unable to contribute anything further was galling. If only we had our engines and working weapons. “How long until the enemy can jump out, Lieutenant?”
“We engaged them close to the limit, ma’am. No more than ten minutes, max.”
So they sat, unable to affect the ongoing battle and watching as the Greengold’s remaining fighters and bombers attacked targets of opportunity and provided cover fire
