Read Online Jack of Harts 2.5: Wolfenheim Rising by Medron Pryde - Free Book Online Page A

had been available at New Earth to warn anyone at Sunnydale of their imminent arrival.  And he had reason to believe that Murphy would “just happen” to receive an old hyperspace map when she asked for a cartography update.
    But if, despite all the preparations he could swear up and down he had nothing to do with, Murphy’s squadron had managed to make better time than Normandy , they could be lying in wait.  And Olivia was a very careful captain.  She hated surprises, and so they very carefully rose towards the hyperspace wall.
    “Contact!” The single word shot through the bridge and Malcolm turned to look at Lieutenant Anton Lee as even more words tumbled out of the man’s lips.  “Contact!  Single ship, directly above at six five zero zero meters.  Designating Bogey One.”
    “Does she see us?” Olivia asked, her voice hardening into her captain’s alter ego as she spoke.  On one display, Malcolm glimpsed an on-duty recon fighter already accelerating towards the target.
    “Bogey One moving.”  The report came quick, words short and clipped as the officer communicated as rapidly as possible.  Displays flashed on the man’s stations and he tensed.  “Identified Shang scout!  Running.”
    “Firing solution?” Wyatt demanded as even Malcolm’s untrained eyes caught the scout ship beginning to pull away.
    “Bravo,” Lee answered without hesitation.
    Wyatt hadn’t waited for his word though, having already turned to her tactical officer.  “Guns?” she asked, the moment Lee’s mouth closed.
    Malcolm nodded in approval.  It was amazing to see them react so quickly and professionally.  He could see in their training the instincts that must have brought them out of Epsilon Reticuli alive.  But a proper cybernetic intelligence on the other side would have killed them already in the seconds it was taking to respond.  He glanced at Dawn as Lieutenant Thompson confirmed Fire Plan Bravo, and saw the grim smile as she met his eyes.  Yes, she could have fired already.
    “Fire,” Wyatt ordered without any hesitation.
    Thompson hit the button and missiles poured out of Normandy’s forward bow to streak out after the fleeing scout at the equivalent of point-blank range.  Seven more waves of missiles from the other ships of the fleet converged on the scout at the same time, within a second of launching.  It was like tanks firing at ten paces, and the Shang crew had no time to even realize they were under attack.  Only the Shang computers saw the missiles coming in time to react, and if they weren’t cybernetic minds their artificial intelligence was perfectly suited to operating point-defense batteries in an emergency.  The scout’s laser clusters came to life without waiting for orders that would never come from the crew, strobing on and off faster than most eyes could register.
    Missile after missile ripped apart in less than a second, victim of the scout’s point defense, but there were a dozen more missiles for each one that fell, and they bore in on their victim.  The first to breach the point-defense grid exploded outside the scout’s deflection grid, reaching out with talons of focused gravity to rip the concentrated bands of gravitic shielding apart.  Missiles following them sailed through the shredded deflection grid with impunity, though three actually hit sections of the grid still online.  Those missiles disappeared without a trace, twisted and ripped apart by gravitic shear measured in the thousands of gravities.
    The other missiles found their target easy prey, though, and erupted into miniature black holes that tore through the scout with impunity.  They only had enough power to maintain their attack for a fraction of a second, but in that time they twisted and tore at the scout and the streams of hyperspace around her without mercy.  Gravity, the very fabric of hyperspace itself, vibrated with the assault, and gravitic whips lashed against both missiles and the nearby