Homeworld (Odyssey One) (43 page)

Gracen frowned, glanced over, and then looked back at her system. “Pardon me for a moment, General. I need to check on something.”

She shifted out of her station and walked over. “What’s going on?”

“I think they’re getting ready to move out.”

Gracen snorted. “You must be joking. That ship is no shape to fight.”

“That doesn’t seem to be deterring them, Admiral.”

“Do they have clearance?” she asked, incredulous.

“Negative. They requested it and were denied.”

Gracen blew out an annoyed breath.
Damned stubborn fools we put in charge of ships. Not so different after all, I suppose.

“Alright,” she said aloud. “Give me a channel.”

“Admiral?”

“Now is not the time to be distracted. Give me a channel to the
Weifang
.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Gracen leaned in to the console as the channel opened and spoke in only slightly accented Mandarin. “Station Liberty to People’s Liberation Army Spaceship
Weifang
. This is Admiral Gracen. Please respond.”

There was nothing but silence and the crackle of cosmic radiation interfering with the channel. Gracen sneered, annoyed by the situation.
I don’t need this now, of all times.

“Captain Sun,” she growled, “your own government has refused clearance to you. Your ship is not fit for this battle and, more important, if the
Odyssey
and the
Enterprise
fail, you and this station will be one of the last lines of defense for the entire planet below. Acknowledge my communication.”

Gracen waited. She’d like to think she waited patiently, but that would be a flat-out lie. She waited, just barely able to keep from tapping her feet in a show of just how impatient she was at the moment, the crackle on the channel sounding interminably loud in her ears.

After what felt like an eternity, an English voice modulation finally broke the crackle of radiation interference.

“Admiral, this is our duty.”

“Your duty,” she growled, switching to English, “is to preserve the security of your nation and your world. This battle will be over before you can possibly arrive on station. Your duty is
here
Captain. Your
ego
is out there.”

The crackle was back for a while as everyone on deck held their breath and waited for an answer.

“P.L.A.S.F.
Weifang
standing station, Admiral Gracen. We stand ready to aid you in this situation.”

Gracen blew out a breath, “Thank you, Captain. The Confederate forces stand ready for the same.”

N.A.C.S.
ODYSSEY

“LIBERTY SIGNALS READY. They’ve green lit the plan.”

Eric snorted. It wasn’t like they had many options. It was rather like giving him permission to breathe.

The enemy signals were now light-speed limited, but they had a good idea of where the fleet would be. They’d crossed the orbit of Pluto, unofficially going from “wet foot” to “dry foot” in many minds, and as far as he was concerned they now deserved everything they had coming to them.

“Stand by, all stations. Single ping,” he ordered.

“Aye, Captain. All stations standing by for single-tachyon ping.”

We’ve got to make this one impressive for the watchers out there. To buy time, if nothing else.

“Time left on the countdown?” he asked mildly, really just out of habit than actual curiosity.

“Two minutes, thirty-four seconds,” Winger replied automatically.

Eric nodded absently, almost surprised that Winger hadn’t offered up the milliseconds left to count. Timing didn’t have
to be quite so precise on this mission, but it would help make things work a little more smoothly.

“Put up the estimated location for the enemy ship in”—he glanced aside—“two minutes, twenty-eight seconds.”

“Aye, Captain. On screen.”

The plot showed the trajectory of the enemy ships, estimated, of course. They had a delay of almost ten minutes now that the enemy ships were just a little over two astronomical units away.

The last of them will be in our range in just a few more seconds.


Enterprise
reports ready to provide support, sir.”

“Good. Tell them we’ll need a fighter screen for clean up,” Eric said.

“Aye, sir.”

Roberts glanced at him. “You haven’t scrambled the Archangels, Captain.”

Eric snorted, lowering the pitch of his voice. “Why bother? If this goes wrong, we’ve got all the chances of a comet in a corona.”

“I’d rather be the comet.”

“Wouldn’t we all?” Eric asked with a hint of a grin before he checked the screens again, “Well, would you look at the clock on the wall? Time to bid them, one and all…goodbye. Winger, ranging ping, full power.”

“Aye, aye, Captain. Single ping, full power, range to target in three…two…one.”

PRIMINAE WARSHIP
POSDAN

“GREAT MAKER, THERE are so many of them.”

Kian almost reprimanded the speaker, but honestly she was thinking the same thing.

No Priminae system rated more than six of the Drasin, and those were core systems. Twenty-eight was unfathomable. It was completely insane. That many Drasin could annihilate a star system in a single stroke. No, multiple systems!

It had to be an entire battle group, but what boggled her mind was that it was being thrown in its entirety against this single system.

All Kian could think was to be profoundly grateful that the enemy had never considered any Priminae world to be worth quite so much.

She could feel the eyes of her crew upon her, and knew the reason why.

The
Nept
and the
Posdan
were holding position just outside the system, ready to dive in and provide help, but it was blatantly obvious that they would be too little, too late. She didn’t feel that she could in all honor ignore the situation, however, no matter how hopeless it was.

The least I can do is help the
Odyssey
make our enemies pay a little more for attacking this system.

“Transmit to the
Nept
,” she ordered. “We will go in. Maintain long-range engagements only. We are not sufficient to engage these ships at close range, so we will do what we can until the planet falls. Do not get close enough to be locked into combat.”

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