carrying sixty units of liquid
fire and four launching tubes of methadene torpedoes.” The weapons
master’s voice sounded from the chair’s speaker at her elbow.
Plymon turned to
look at her. “Dramsk configuration ships? That makes no sense.”
“I
agree.” She frowned as the vessel they had fired open ponderously moved
toward them. Dramsk ships weren’t battle class. More than that, although their
weaponry was impressive, it was a pitiful amount, especially against a Nion
warrior ship.
But there are
four of them, she reminded herself. All total, they could leave us
floating dead in space if they struck all together.
“Granth,
can you reach Commander Oglet?”
“Working on
it!”
“Why aren’t
the other ships attacking?” Plymon questioned aloud. “Didn’t we
announce our presence?” He made a good point. The one ship they had hit
was the only one responding. The others remained focused on the station.
A cold shiver
went through her. “Something’s up,” Will said. “They’re acting
like they’re after something else. Like they have a different objective other
than capturing us.”
“But they
stated they would come after you,” Plymon said. “Why are they
attacking Precorut? They should know by now we’re not there. That we’ve
left.”
She started to
reply when Oglet’s voice came over the intercom. It was audio only, and filled
with static. In the background she could hear muffled thumps from the barrage
the space station was taking from the enemy ships.
“Captain
Tayte!”
“Commander
Oglet! We’ve notified the Ben Objure of our location, but they’re continuing
with the assault!”
“They’re
not after you. Not this time,” the commander said.
“Then
what…”
She knew. The
answer came to her before Oglet replied.
“They want
‘it’ back. They want Vall!”
Fekk it!
“We’re
coming in, Commander!” she told him. “Magnus, get me on that station!
Plymon, lock onto Vall’s location.”
“Amid eight
thousand other humanoids?”
Eight thousand plus,
representing at least three thousand inhabited worlds.
Humanoids.
Creatures who shared the twelve basic commonalities, which enabled them to
coexist on over a hundred thousand planets. Not counting space stations like
Precorut.
Killjorn’s voice
overrode her thoughts. “This man isn’t humanoid.”
Slamming her
fist on the intercom button, Will called for the physician.
“Killjorn
here.”
“Send me
your cellular readout on Vall immediately! The Ben Objure aren’t attacking
Precorut on my account. They’re after him!”
“Transferring!”
Will looked over
at her Sub-captain, who was busy at his board. “Hurry!”
“Captain.
The enemy!”
She turned to
see the Objurian craft bearing straight for them. A pair of lights erupted from
its cannons, and grew in size and intensity as they approached. Will watched,
transfixed, as the balls of methadene fill the view screen. Although the
weapons exploded harmlessly off the Trinity’s shields, she flinched
automatically. Bung worms! Will I ever get over having that reaction? “Evasive
maneuvers, Magnus. Get under her belly and fire at will.”
“Initiating
evasive moves.”
“Found him,
Captain,” Plymon called out. “Level sixty-eight. Quadrant
three.”
A holographic
image of the exact location formed in front of her. Will glanced at the station
through the view screen moments before the Trinity ducked beneath the
Objurian ship. She watched as they fired at the vessel’s most vulnerable areas,
knocking out their cannons and weapons bays. No longer able to fight, the
Objurian ship veered off and disappeared into hyper light.
“How long
before more ships arrive?”
“Fifty-three
minutes, Captain.”
She glanced back
at Granth, who added a nod. Fifty-three minutes, and those arriving ships would
be the big Objurian warships, nearly the same size as the queen mother’s.
“Get me on
Precorut.”
“I strongly
urge you to stay aboard,
fire and four launching tubes of methadene torpedoes.” The weapons
master’s voice sounded from the chair’s speaker at her elbow.
Plymon turned to
look at her. “Dramsk configuration ships? That makes no sense.”
“I
agree.” She frowned as the vessel they had fired open ponderously moved
toward them. Dramsk ships weren’t battle class. More than that, although their
weaponry was impressive, it was a pitiful amount, especially against a Nion
warrior ship.
But there are
four of them, she reminded herself. All total, they could leave us
floating dead in space if they struck all together.
“Granth,
can you reach Commander Oglet?”
“Working on
it!”
“Why aren’t
the other ships attacking?” Plymon questioned aloud. “Didn’t we
announce our presence?” He made a good point. The one ship they had hit
was the only one responding. The others remained focused on the station.
A cold shiver
went through her. “Something’s up,” Will said. “They’re acting
like they’re after something else. Like they have a different objective other
than capturing us.”
“But they
stated they would come after you,” Plymon said. “Why are they
attacking Precorut? They should know by now we’re not there. That we’ve
left.”
She started to
reply when Oglet’s voice came over the intercom. It was audio only, and filled
with static. In the background she could hear muffled thumps from the barrage
the space station was taking from the enemy ships.
“Captain
Tayte!”
“Commander
Oglet! We’ve notified the Ben Objure of our location, but they’re continuing
with the assault!”
“They’re
not after you. Not this time,” the commander said.
“Then
what…”
She knew. The
answer came to her before Oglet replied.
“They want
‘it’ back. They want Vall!”
Fekk it!
“We’re
coming in, Commander!” she told him. “Magnus, get me on that station!
Plymon, lock onto Vall’s location.”
“Amid eight
thousand other humanoids?”
Eight thousand plus,
representing at least three thousand inhabited worlds.
Humanoids.
Creatures who shared the twelve basic commonalities, which enabled them to
coexist on over a hundred thousand planets. Not counting space stations like
Precorut.
Killjorn’s voice
overrode her thoughts. “This man isn’t humanoid.”
Slamming her
fist on the intercom button, Will called for the physician.
“Killjorn
here.”
“Send me
your cellular readout on Vall immediately! The Ben Objure aren’t attacking
Precorut on my account. They’re after him!”
“Transferring!”
Will looked over
at her Sub-captain, who was busy at his board. “Hurry!”
“Captain.
The enemy!”
She turned to
see the Objurian craft bearing straight for them. A pair of lights erupted from
its cannons, and grew in size and intensity as they approached. Will watched,
transfixed, as the balls of methadene fill the view screen. Although the
weapons exploded harmlessly off the Trinity’s shields, she flinched
automatically. Bung worms! Will I ever get over having that reaction? “Evasive
maneuvers, Magnus. Get under her belly and fire at will.”
“Initiating
evasive moves.”
“Found him,
Captain,” Plymon called out. “Level sixty-eight. Quadrant
three.”
A holographic
image of the exact location formed in front of her. Will glanced at the station
through the view screen moments before the Trinity ducked beneath the
Objurian ship. She watched as they fired at the vessel’s most vulnerable areas,
knocking out their cannons and weapons bays. No longer able to fight, the
Objurian ship veered off and disappeared into hyper light.
“How long
before more ships arrive?”
“Fifty-three
minutes, Captain.”
She glanced back
at Granth, who added a nod. Fifty-three minutes, and those arriving ships would
be the big Objurian warships, nearly the same size as the queen mother’s.
“Get me on
Precorut.”
“I strongly
urge you to stay aboard,
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