45

“Standing by for nova,” Soler reported.

Kira ran through the reporting metrics from Fortitude’s command seat. There were a few clever user-interface tricks and automatic reports in Fortitude’s software that she’d have to incorporate in the other ships of Memorial Force if she had time.

Right now, though, those tricks and reports were telling her the stark story of how understrength Fortitude was. Twenty-four fighters on a ship that should carry a hundred and fifty. Two hundred crew on a ship designed for over fifteen hundred.

But she had the reports from the rest of the mercenary battle group. Everyone was at a solid fifty-five percent fuel now. Fortitude had stocked up to almost two hundred torpedoes, more than enough to reload the heavy fighters repeatedly.

Everyone’s drive cores were cooled down. This was almost the moment of truth—their first nova to somewhere not a security point. They only needed three novas to get them to Guadaloop from there, through two trade-route stops—but those stops were going to be patrolled.

“All ships report at battle stations,” Konrad said. “All guns are charged, all fighters are standing by, all jammers are armed. We are ready.”

Kira nodded, taking one last skim through all of the reports hovering in the air around her and then inhaling carefully.

“Order to all ships: nova on my command.”

She let the silence hang for a second, making sure she had everyone on the line and listening.

“Nova.”

* * *

“Contacts, multiple contacts.”

“Break them down,” Kira ordered.

Civilians weren’t going to mess with a carrier group. Any nova warships from the Crest’s client network weren’t particularly more likely to pick that fight—Memorial Force had outgunned most of the clients’ nova-capable fleets before they’d stolen Fortitude.

The risk was Navy of the Royal Crest ships. Even there, smaller deployments could be either intimidated or talked down with Panosyan’s code words.

Maybe.

“Forty-two civilian ships of various sizes,” Soler reported. “Um…two Apollon destroyers. Looks like they’re escorting a diplomatic vessel.”

They were a long way from home, Kira knew. It was almost as far from her homeworld to the Crest Sector as it was to the Syntactic Cluster. But the Crest was a major power in this region of the Rim, so it made sense.

It still made her twitchy.

“I’ve got an NRC cruiser group at sixty-five by ninety-one,” Soler barked as the data resolved. “I make it a Banker’s Acceptance–class battlecruiser with six destroyers. Range is…three million kilometers.”

“Get me an ID on that battlecruiser,” Kira ordered. She had a list of people who would be safe to use her codewords on—and just sending them could risk the whole scheme if they went to the wrong people.

“Working on it. They will have seen us…now,” Soler reported.

“That’s the nature of the game,” Kira replied. “A Banker’s Acceptance has how many fighters?”

Kira was already taking control of the ship’s sublight navigation and directing the whole squadron to start opening the distance. She couldn’t open the distance enough to stop the battlecruiser’s fighters reaching them—that was the whole point of nova fighters.

A squadron of fighters spilled out from each of her flight decks, eighteen fighters assembling into an escort formation around the fleet. If the Cresters came for Fortitude, her people would be ready.

“Single squadron, ten Cavaliers,” Konrad reported.

“ID confirmed,” Soler added. “Battlecruiser is Interest Differential, Captain Ella Abraham, commanding.”

“She’s not on my list,” Kira said after a moment’s review. “Damn.”

“Not a Royalist?” Konrad asked.

“No. Also not an SPP lackey, from what I have,” she told him. “But just straight loyalty to the flag is enough for her to come after us once she works out what’s going on.”

“Do we play for time?” her lover asked.

Kira studied the battlecruiser in the displays—and watched Interest Differential turn toward them and launch her nova fighters.

“Incoming hail,” Soler reported.

“Play it and ready up the Captain Moon simulacrum,” Kira told her. “Let’s see what games we can arrange.”

The image of a tall redheaded woman in the NRC uniform appeared on the screen.

“Hijackers aboard the carrier Fortitude and attendant unknown ships,” Captain Abraham said flatly. “Your crimes are known and you cannot escape. Surrender now and avoid further bloodshed.”

There went pretending to be Captain Moon. Well…there went expecting to succeed at pretending to be Captain Moon, anyway.

Kira smiled.

“Pull up the Moon simulacrum,” she ordered. “Then record for transmission. Ten seconds’ lag gives us space to play with.”

A few seconds passed as the program activated and Kira looked down at the screen showing her outgoing message. Captain Moon—currently in a cell in Fortitude’s brig—looked back up at her and blinked when she did.

“Captain Abraham, this is Captain Gyeong-Ja Moon aboard Fortitude,” she told the Navy of the Royal Crest officer.

“I do not know what lies are being spread around the Crest, but I have been tasked with a special mission to protect the Prime Minister and key members of the Cabinet after a Royalist assassination attempt.

“I have been given specific code words to advise me that the situation at home is safe for the Prime Minister’s return.” She smiled thinly—an even more terrifying expression on the Moon simulacrum than Kira thought it was on herself—at the other woman.

“Suffice to say, calling us hijackers is not included on that list. If you continue your hostile approach, I will have no choice but to engage your task group to defend the Prime Minister.

“Please, Captain Abraham, if you are not involved in the Royalists’ schemes, stand aside. If you approach within two million kilometers, I will order fighter strikes on your command.”

She cut off the message and sent it.

“Think they’ll buy it?” Konrad asked.

“Honestly? No,” Kira admitted. “But I suspect that things are in a state of absolute chaos in the Crest right now, and even if the Crown Zharang hasn’t moved yet, that whole spiel seems believable enough.”

She shook her head.

“I’m not counting on Abraham believing me,” she concluded. “I’m counting on her being unsure enough not to risk a fight she can’t actually win.”

* * *

For several minutes, there was no response from Captain Abraham and Interest Differential. The battlecruiser and her destroyer escort continued to close, moving ever closer to Kira’s two-million-kilometer line.

“Sagairt, Cartman, Patel,” Kira said quietly, linking all three Commanders, Nova Group, into a channel.

“Stand by for launch. Priority target is the battlecruiser. Raccoon-Zeta will make a high-speed strike with their nova bombers. Everyone else will cover them. Heavy fighters and fighter-bombers will target the destroyers with their torpedoes if they get a chance.”

None of the interceptors were carrying torpedoes. Their job would be to deal with their Cavalier counterparts on the other side.

Her CNGs chorused acknowledgement, and icons began to flicker from yellow to green on Kira’s fighter status report. The speed suggested that many of the nova-fighter pilots had already been in their cockpits, waiting for the order to strap in.

“Two-point-four million kilometers,” Soler reported. “Wait. I have a vector change! She’s turning away.”

Kira double-checked and breathed a sigh of relief. For now, it looked like Abraham was blinking.

“She’ll transmit shortly,” Kira said aloud. “Let’s see what she’s thinking. Maintain battle stations.”

If she had to hold Memorial Force at battle stations for the full twenty-hour cooldown, she would. Her people would be shattered by the end and she’d be in trouble if her next nova took her into even more Crester ships.

“Still no coms,” Soler reported. “Interest Differential has matched velocities at eight light-seconds. The destroyers are spreading out but also at eight light-seconds.”

“Spreading out?” Kira asked.

“They’re attempting to synchronize active sensors to create a virtual telescope,” Konrad guessed. “Aiming for a better view of the ships around Fortitude.”

“Short of bringing up the jammers, can we stop them?” she asked. If they got a good look at her ships, they’d realize how heterogenous her fleet was—and they might even be able to ID the Redward destroyers, given that Panosyan’s delegation had been sending reports back.

Hell, they might even be able to identify Memorial Force based on those reports and the Redward-built destroyers.

“No,” Konrad said grimly. “It’s jammers, which blows any chance at pretending we’re friendly, or allow them to ID us.”

“Which will probably also shred any chance of maintaining the deception.”

Kira checked the time. They still had nineteen hours left. But…Interest Differential was a big ship and an older one. Bigger than Deception, older than Fortitude.

“Do we have an estimate on the Banker’s Acceptance’s acceleration and speed?” she asked.

“On your screen,” Konrad replied a moment later.

Kira studied the specifications for the cruiser. They could do it. Just barely.

“And she’s matched v with us,” Kira said aloud. “Raccoon and Lady Tramp are our slowest ships, but even they have a slight edge over Differential.”

She shook her head.

“I don’t want to kill people who are simply doing their duty,” she noted. “All ships are to rotate sixty degrees to port and go to maximum acceleration. Multiphasic jammers to come online as soon as we’re moving.”

The icons on her display updated swiftly as her people obeyed. All six of her ships were suddenly running away from Interest Differential—and before Captain Abraham could react, multiphasic jamming shrouded Kira’s fleet.

The downside of multiphasic jamming was that Kira couldn’t see out. Optical pickups weren’t going to reliably detect a ship at eight light-seconds at the best of times, and it wasn’t like multiphasic jamming had no impact on the visual wavelengths.

“Adding possibility zones for NRC vessels,” Soler said quietly as the icons on the main display dissolved into large colored spheres. “The destroyers can catch us. So can the nova fighters.”

“We’ll keep our fighters in space,” Kira replied. “Stand the rest of the Force down to status two by laser if we can reach them. We’ll maintain a combat patrol capable of handling their ten Cavaliers.”

And otherwise, they would spend twenty hours running away. Kira was perfectly capable of recognizing when flight was the best plan.

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