“1MC tied in, ma’am.”
“Attention, all hands. This is Colonel Tehrani. General quarters, general quarters. Man your battle stations. Set material condition one throughout the ship. This is not a drill. I say again, this is not a drill.”
The overhead lights immediately dimmed and switched to a deep blue.
“Conn, TAO. Material condition one set throughout the ship, ma’am.”
“TAO, raise shields. Charge the energy weapons capacitor. Bring our point-defense systems online in automatic mode.”
“Aye, aye, ma’am.”
“Navigation, intercept course, Master One.” Tehrani set her jaw. “Communications, direct the Astute to move off and seek targets of opportunity while staying within fire support range.” Her Starbolt missiles may yet prove useful if deployed at the proper time.
“Whatcha thinking, Skipper? I doubt a straight-up slugging match is going to work here,” Wright said as he bent over his screen, staring at the clusters of blue and red dots.
“Pick off some of their escorts, hope they make a mistake or two that’ll help us, and finish the carrier off once the herd is thinned.”
“Conn, Communications. Inbound vidlink request from Ramires, ma’am.”
Tehrani let out a deep sigh. “Oh, I suppose he’s going to yell at us for helping.” She rolled her eyes. “Put him on, Lieutenant.”
“Aye, aye, ma’am.”
“Can you hear me?” Ramires shrieked as the screen above her head came alive.
“Yes, we read you.”
“Well, what are you going to do? The pirates said they’re going to destroy our operation. This is all your fault. They said we were working with you!” Ramires seemed to teeter on going into hysterics.
“Shipmaster, calm yourself,” Tehrani replied in a formal tone. “The Terran Coalition will not tolerate piracy near its borders. We’re moving to intercept.”
“Do you have enough ships? Your force looks… small.”
Only a megacorp shipmaster would be stuck-up enough first to insult us then to ask for our help and complain about the number of men and women putting themselves in harm's way to defend his sorry ass. Tehrani flexed her hand into a fist a few times, out of view of the camera that pointed down from the overhead. “I have every confidence in Battlegroup Z’s ability to engage the enemy, Shipmaster. However, if any of your vessels have military capabilities and are willing to fight, we’ll take all comers.”
Ramires’s face twisted and blanched. “Uh, well, the Raifuku Maru is a freighter and not capable of fighting. I don’t think any of our other commanders would feel like they could contribute in a meaningful way without getting their ships shot out from under them, but I will ask.”
Above all, Tehrani detested cowards. Since the Maru was the largest ship in the Nosamo Aerothermic Technologies formation, sporting multiple neutron beams, Ramires’s words were hollow and reeked of his being perfectly willing to allow others to die in his place. She kept the disgust off her face and smiled thinly. “Thank you, Shipmaster. If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a battle to fight.”
“Of course. Raifuku Maru out.”
“Why don’t we send a bill to HQ after we’re done for expenses rendered?” Wright asked. “Charge enough to retire.”
Waves of laughter rippled from those within earshot.
Even Tehrani was amused, not that anything was funny twenty minutes from combat. “Splendid idea, XO.” She tilted her head. “We’re going to need everything we’ve got from the hangar. Get twenty combat spacecraft ready for launch—eight Sabres, eight Boars, and four Maulers.”
“Aye, aye, ma’am,” Wright replied. “Four Sabres and four Boars are on ready five now. It’ll take twenty to thirty minutes to get the rest lined up for launch.”
“Tell them to hurry, as if their lives depended on it, then get everything else in our hangar ready to go right behind them.”
“Aye, aye.”
Time seemed to crawl as the Greengold and her battlegroup raced toward the enemy formation at seven percent of light speed. A sudden inspiration hit her. “Communications, get me an open commlink with Master One.”
Wright’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “What, Skipper?”
“Maybe they’ll leave if we ask nicely.”
“Well, it’ll be good in-flight entertainment if nothing else,” Wright replied with a smirk.
“You’re on, ma’am,” Singh interjected. “I’ll route any response to your monitor.”
“This is Colonel Banu Tehrani, commanding the CSV Zvika Greengold, to commander hostile formation.”
Several seconds passed before an image of a human male appeared above her. He wore a brown spacer uniform, and his face was twisted into a sneer. “Do you wish to surrender, Terran?”
Tehrani smiled. “No, but I see no reason for our conflict to affect neutral parties.”
“Any human—or alien, for that matter—consorting with the Terran Coalition is a valid target for us. Surrender now, and we might spare your lives as we liberate your equipment to fund our cause.” His voice held a definite Greek accent.
Sounds like a true believer to me. “I will not allow you to harm these merchants and miners.”
The man shrugged. “You can try, but your weak force will be overwhelmed by the strong.”
“I think not.”
”We’ll see if you change your tune after the battle, because when we’re done with you, there won’t be anything left to bury.”
The vidlink went black as the connection cut.
“I think they hung up on us, Skipper.” Wright snorted.
“Worth a shot. I’d rather not fight with Nosamo Aerothermic Technologies vessels here. It’d be an awful black eye if a bunch of civilians were killed—even megacorp civilians.”
“Conn, TAO. Fifteen minutes to weapons range, ma’am.”
The imminent onset of hostilities served to focus Tehrani’s mind. She closed her eyes and whispered in Arabic, “Allah, protect us as we do battle with the enemy. Grant us victory over this foe who blasphemes Your name. Strike the evildoers so that Your name may be known throughout the heavens.”
“Amen,” Wright said.
Tehrani turned her head and grinned. “Amen, indeed.”
Time marched on as the red and blue dots rushed at one
