“TAO, designate Master Six as the priority target for the fleet. XO, stand by to launch any available small craft.” Tehrani turned toward the front of the bridge. “Navigation, plot an intercept course with Master Six, all ahead flank.”
The Rand, which to a casual observer would appear deceptively small, charged forward. It had emerged on the other side of the merchant ship’s formation, and as a result, almost all friendly forces were out of position to intercept. Red balls of plasma and neutron beams stabbed out from the heavy cruiser’s hull. As the nearest vessels tried to scatter, a barrage of the plasma balls slammed into an unlucky freighter’s shields. They only held for a few moments before the superheated matter smacked into the nonexistent armor and brittle hull of the civilian freighter. A chain reaction of explosions started and ended in chunks of alloy less than a meter wide.
“My God,” Wright muttered.
A second merchant ship was luckier—instead of exploding, the Rand’s neutron beams shaved its engine pods off, leaving the vessel tumbling through space, but at least its crew might have a chance at survival.
Tehrani peered at Wright. “Ideas?”
“We’re out of position and outgunned, ma’am. They played us.”
“By the time we get in range, that cruiser will have destroyed half the convoy.” The tactical plot confirmed Tehrani’s comment, and she momentarily blanked on what to do next. Think, dammit. I have to change the rules here. The solution hit her suddenly. “Communications, order the convoy to prepare for an emergency Lawrence drive jump to our next destination.”
“Aye, aye, ma’am,” Singh replied.
“No objection, XO?”
“Well, it’s risky, but I don’t have a better idea.” Wright offered a half-hearted grin. “That’s why you get paid the big bucks, Colonel.”
“Conn, Communications,” Singh interjected. “Captain Shikoba has asked me to convey her deepest concern about your order. She believes it will lead to unnecessary loss of life.”
“Noted.” Tehrani set her jaw. “Instruct her to carry out my orders.”
“Aye, aye, ma’am.”
“Navigation…” Tehrani turned toward Mitzner. “Plot our Lawrence drive jump and stand by to engage.”
“Should I order our small craft back?” Wright asked.
“Yes.”
“What about the ejected pilot?”
Wright’s words hit Tehrani like a ton of bricks. She’d forgotten, in the heat of battle, that they had a missing pilot from Beta element out there. “See if either of the on-deck SAR crews are willing to volunteer.”
“Aye, aye, ma’am.” He touched his screen. “Both did, ma’am.”
“Get the number-one bird in space. Tell them to be sure they pay attention to orders, because we will leave without them if it’s required.”
Wright nodded grimly at her. “Understood.”
5
With the bombers and the Boar elements headed back to Zvika Greengold, Jason and the rest of Alpha busied themselves trying to keep League fighters from picking off the vulnerable merchant ships and slower small craft. As he destroyed yet another Leaguer, Jason noticed a new friendly contact emerging from the Greengold. Its ID flashed on the HUD, designating the late arrival as a search-and-rescue craft.
He cued his commlink. “Rescue One, state intent. We’ve got orders to head back to home plate for emergency Lawrence jump.”
“Alpha One, we’ve got a pilot in space with a strong beacon,” someone on the SAR bird replied. “You know the drill. That others may live. If you could give us some cover on your way back to the Greengold, I’d appreciate it.”
Justin felt like he was having another one of those moments of clarity. He had two paths in front of him—the safe choice, heading back with the rest of Alpha, or going the extra mile, above and beyond the call of duty. What shocked him was how quickly he made the choice. “Rescue One, understood. I’ll take up close escort position off your port side. You got one shot at this, then we’re bailing out. Confirm. Over.”
“Roger, Alpha One. Confirmed. Thanks for the assist.”
“Are you insane?” Feldstein practically screamed into Justin’s ear. “The convoy is about to jump.”
“If it were me out here, I’d hope someone tried.”
“At least let us go with you.”
“No. I won’t risk the rest of Alpha. Get back to the Greengold, cover her from incoming missiles, and stand by to execute a combat landing.”
“But—”
“That’s an order, Lieutenant,” Justin replied with an edge to his voice.
“Yes, sir,” she replied curtly, and the line cut off immediately.
Justin interlinked his sensor net with the SAR bird, affectionally known as a Jolly Green. Typically, emergency distress pings didn’t populate the board, but with his craft communicating directly with them, a contact appeared with Lieutenant Hastings’s ID attached to it. This is gonna be close. Perhaps it was luck or good fortune, but so far, the enemy hadn’t noticed them. At least, they haven’t visibly reacted to the Jolly Green.
As they raced toward the stricken pilot, Justin thought about the horror it must be, to be stuck in the void as the battle raged, unable to affect it or even take steps to save yourself. Relying solely on others is not a place I would ever want to be. He scanned the sensor display once more, part of a rotating three-second situational-aware check ingrained into him as a fighter jock. Oh shit. Four League craft had broken off from the forces engaging the freighters and turned toward the Jolly Green.
The odds were not good. Justin would’ve gladly taken two on one, but four amounted to suicide. He keyed his commlink to the guard frequency as a sudden inspiration hit him. “This is Lieutenant Justin Spencer calling the four League fighters bearing zero-one-two, range fifty kilometers.”
“Do you wish to surrender, Terran?” a French-accented female asked.
“You’re headed toward an unarmed search-and-rescue craft engaged in rescue operations. Please break off.”
A pregnant pause followed. “Wouldn’t you shoot us down if the roles were reversed?”
Sudden revulsion hit Justin. “Never. Killing a man or a woman in a spacesuit after ejection is murder.”
“Lucky for you, Terran, I agree.”
To Justin’s complete disbelief,
