Helmet under his arm, he left Command and trudged down the companionway to officers’ quarters. Michi, Chandra, Li, and Coen were grouped around Michi’s dining room, all bulky in their vac suits. Michi and Chandra were gazing at a wall display, the aides at datapads. Martinez entered and braced.
“Come in,” Michi said, her eyes intent on the wall display, and then she turned to him.
“I intend to pursue the enemy,” she said, “and finish them off once and for all.”
“Yes, my lady,” Martinez said.
Good idea,he thought.
THIRTY-THREE
“I’ve ordered all squadron commanders to give a complete report on the status of their ships,” Michi said. “If we can build a large enough force, I’m going to swing around the far side of Magaria and head right for Wormhole Five on the tail of the enemy.”
A sense of pure satisfaction sang like a Daimong chorus in Martinez’s head.
“Yes, my lady,” he said.
“You were right when you told Chandra that the Naxid fleetis the rebellion,” Michi said. “Kill their ships, and the war dies.” She returned her attention to the screen. “Yes, my lord,” she said. “Continue.”
“Compliancehas frames broken, two bulkheads breached, and two missile batteries severely damaged by heat,” reported the captain of theConformance . “I doubt it’ll be able to pull heavy gravities, and though a well- equipped dock might save her, it might be easier in the end to scrap the ship and build a new one.Submission has suffered hull breach in two places and the death of sixty-odd crew, but reports the hull damage is repairable and that repairs are ongoing. The captain reports the ship as ready for battle, though half of one missile battery has been permanently slagged.Conformance has suffered superficial damage, and is ready to continue the fight now, though our magazines are at two-fifths full strength.”
“Don’t worry about missiles,” Michi said. “We’ll get you more. Thank you, Lord Captain.”
Don’t worry about missiles. That was interesting. Perhaps Michi intended the damaged ships to donate their unfired missiles to those about to go in pursuit of the Naxids.
Chandra made notes on her sleeve display, which were reflected in another one of the wall displays that showed a list of ships, with tick marks in one of three columns.
“Sit down, Captain,” Michi said. “There’ll be food and coffee in a minute.”
Martinez found a seat and listened to another report. More ticks went into different columns.
The next report was from Sula. Her silver-gilt hair was pinned back and revealed her delicate ears. A flush floated in the translucence of her cheeks, and defiance glittered in her green eyes. She wasn’t wearing a vac suit, but wore instead her undress tunic. Martinez figured she had showered and changed before reporting.
“Light Squadron Seventeen reports the loss ofCouncillor andEager, ” she said. “All other ships are undamaged and prepared to engage the enemy.”
Martinez stared. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her so arrogant.
“Missile stores?” Michi asked.
Sula gave her precise numbers for each of her ships. She hadn’t fired so prodigiously as other ships, and she’d preserved nearly half the missiles in her magazines.
“Thank you, Captain Sula,” Michi said. “You’ve done an outstanding job.”
“Yes, my lady,” Sula said, and blanked the screen.
Yes,she had said. NotThank you .
No humility here,Martinez thought.
Two of Michi’s servants arrived with plates, silverware, and a casserole that had been quietly baking while the missiles were slashing between ships. Coffee and water arrived shortly after. The mingled scent of tomatoes and garlic rose gently into the air as dinner was dished out, and everyone began eating and working with the figures in the wall displays.
All squadrons reported in. Twenty-eight ships were capable of action. The rest would be left behind to guard Magaria’s system from any Naxid counterattack—and at least some of them could receive repair at Magaria’s ring, assuming that Magaria surrendered.
“Twenty-eight against thirty,” Michi said thoughtfully.
“The Naxids will have a high percentage of damaged ships,” Martinez said. “Ours was nearly a third, and theirs might well be higher.”
“I’m worried less about that,” Michi said, “than why they’re retreating.”
“Panic?” Martinez suggested. “Terror?”
Grim amusement glittered beneath Michi’s dark bangs. “Possibly. But it bothers me that they stopped fighting when they did. I’m wondering what they’re runningto .”
“Reinforcements?” Martinez said. “But wouldn’t they have sent reinforcementshere ? To Magaria?”
“I’m sure they would have if it were possible. But possibly they still have ships guarding Naxas, or they have ships under construction or undergoing trials.”
“There can’t be that many. And if any are new construction, they’ll have inexperienced crews and maybe they won’t have even shaken down. We’ll blow them to bits.”
Michi allowed herself a smile. “I suspect you’re right, Lord Captain.”
“Momentum’s on our side, my lady. We can finish them quickly if we don’t give them a chance to catch their breath.”
Michi’s smile broadened. “Please remember,” she said, “that this pursuit is my idea. You don’t have to talk me into it.”
Chandra snickered. Martinez decided this was a good moment to change the subject.
“We can have the damaged ships donate their missiles to the pursuit force,” he said. “That’ll help fill our magazines.”
“Not necessary.” Michi turned to her casserole.
“My lady?”
“Tork’s insurance policy.” Michi spoke around a mouthful of food. “In four days, something like two thousand missiles are going to rip into the system at relativistic speeds.”
Martinez stared. Michi swallowed, then took a drink of water.
“Unless they get the right code,” Michi said, “they’re going to hit every ship they can find.”
Insurance policy,Martinez thought.
“So just in case the Naxids won another victory here,” he said, “Tork was going to do his best to destroy any Naxids remaining.”
“And the Magaria ring,” Michi added, “so the Naxids couldn’t repair.” She took another sip of water.
“He called us pirates for Bai-do,” Martinez said. “Now he’s going to blow up the Magaria ring?”
“Pirate is the nicest thing Tork would have been called if he’d lost this battle,” Michi said. “I’m sure he knew that.”
“I suppose you have the code to control the missiles,” Martinez said, “otherwise we’d be piling on the gravities to escape the system by whatever wormhole is nearest.”
“That’s right. The right code, and all those missiles turn into our resupply. We’re going to have to decelerate enough to stay in the system and recover at least some of the missiles before we go on to Wormhole Five.”
“How many people know this code?”
“It was given to all flag officers.”
“Three of whom seem to be dead. If you’d all been killed, it would have been hard on any survivors.”
“Lucky that Altasz and I survived,” Michi said equably. “Which brings me to my next point. I’m going to have to leave Altasz here to command the remnant we’re leaving behind—which is easy, because his ship is damaged too. The twenty-eight ships of the attack force will divide neatly into three squadrons. I’ll take one, and Sula will have another.” Michi looked at him, eyebrows raised. “I don’t suppose you’d care to command the third?”
Martinez took at least two seconds to bask in the radiant joy that suddenly filled him—and then the joy came to an abrupt end as Li bent to a communication flashing on her sleeve display.
“Communication, my lady,” she said, “from Lord Tork.”
A sudden dark pall fell on the room like a cloud across the sun.
“Put it on the wall,” Michi said, and straightened in her chair as she looked at the wall and its camera pickup. One of the wall screens filled with Tork’s wide-eyed, gray, expressionless face.
