The Heart of Matter: Odyssey One (30 page)

However, they were still dangerous, especially if they got close enough to the planet for the heavy orbital defenses to
become a factor. At that range, they could launch dropships and have a chance of landing more drones on the surface.

Which would be a very dangerous matter, especially if they scattered and landed in multiple areas, as Weston doubted whether the Priminae had planet-wide seismic sensors or enough satellite coverage to guarantee that their local troops took them all out.

A successful insertion of that nature could potentially turn planet Ranquil into the guerrilla warfare capital of the universe.

“Captain,” Roberts spoke up, causing Eric to look up. “We’re getting light-speed readings on the refugee ships now.”

Eric nodded, thinking for a moment, then took a breath.

“Ensign Lamont, have all hands secure for acceleration. Commander, could you please contact the ambassador and Colonel Reed and inform them that I am taking the
Odyssey
out of orbit so we can better cover the planet in case any of the cruisers break through.”

Roberts nodded. “Aye, Captain.”

Eric forced a smile. “Once more into the breach, ladies and gentlemen.”

PRIMINAE VESSEL HERALC
Interstellar Space, Ranquil Region

▸“NEW CONTACT!”

Kierna Senthe grimaced, teeth showing in his displeasure. The Drasin had been fading in and out during the entire long pursuit, making keeping a good count on them infernally difficult. They’d believed that the enemy had gathered their entire force for the last push, but apparently, they had been wrong.

“It’s coming on a vector from Ranquil!”

Or perhaps not.

“Identify!” Kierna ordered tersely, keeping his attention on the ones he knew were trying to kill him.

“Working on it.”

Captain Senthe let his people do their jobs, not having much choice to the contrary, and focused on the people trying to kill them instead.

The Drasin were faster than his ship, especially with the damage they’d incurred over the past two weeks of running battle, and were netting them in from all sides as he tried to snake the heft warship through the cracks.

A rumble shook the bridge, causing Senthe to grip the projected controls a little tighter to keep his balance, and he looked over his shoulder. “What in the Maker was that?”

“Laser strike, Captain!” someone replied. “Glancing blow, but it blew out one of our aft bays!”

Senthe nodded, understanding. The after bays were among the few external sections of the ship that still had positive pressure controls, so the sudden shift in atmospheric levels would have caused the rumble. They’d been lucky that’s all it caused, in fact. At the start of the battle, a strike there would probably have killed a hundred people.

Of course, those people were already dead now.

“Ventral lasers, return fire!” Senthe growled, gritting his teeth.

The Lympa’an-type warships, like the
Heralc
and its brother ships, were tough ships designed to take abuse far in excess of anything that nature threw at them. In fact, there were less than a handful of natural events in space that could even hope to damage one, and almost all of those were so insanely powerful that they’d crush even the thick ceramic armor of a Lympa’an in the wink of an eye.

Space was like that—very few gradients of danger existed. Either it was harmless, relatively speaking, or it was lethal.

The Lympa’an type was not, however, impervious. Even with the massive redundant systems, heavy bulkheads that prevented ship-wide blowouts like those that had happened to the converted merchant ships in the initial Drasin incursion, and all their other systems, ships like the
Heralc
were still constructed by man and not the Maker.

Which meant that they could be deconstructed by the actions of mortals and monsters alike.

And deconstruction was the aim of the Drasin, who had been slowly picking the
Heralc
and her crew apart from the
early rounds of their running battle. Now the five incoming cruisers were preparing to end it, and Senthe could only stretch out the outcome just a little longer.

“Laser fire!”

“Vector!” Kierna shouted over the din, calling for the information that he needed to ensure that he didn’t run into the beam that had been fired.

At the speeds of battle they were currently conducting themselves at, it wasn’t so much about getting shot by laser pulses as much as it was about accidentally, or not so accidentally, running into the damned things. Even damaged, the
Heralc
could outrun any laser fired in her direction, as could the Drasin ships. So the trick was to maneuver your enemy into the slow-moving energy beams or, preventing that, get so close that it didn’t matter if they saw it coming or not.

“Hold course!” someone else shouted in return. “It’s not for us!”

Captain Senthe held his course, trusting the voice the way one had to when there were too many things going on at once to handle alone.

On the projected screen, a few seconds later, one of the rearmost Drasin cruisers suddenly broke up and vanished into a ball of expanding debris.

“It’s the
Vulk
!”

PRIMINAE VESSEL VULK
Interstellar Space, Ranquil Region

▸“LINE UP THE next one,” Johan Maran ordered calmly, watching his projected readings as he let his helmsperson do her job.

“Yes, Captain.” The woman nodded, plotting the next intercept carefully.

The Drasin knew they were there now, if they hadn’t been certain before, so it wouldn’t be as easy as the last one, but Maran was confident that they could at least whittle the numbers down a little.

“Is the
Heralc
responding on any frequency?” he asked, tilting his head toward the back of the command deck.

“No, Captain.”

Johan nodded, tapping a command into his system as a portion of his projection enhanced the image of the
Heralc
. He eyed it carefully for a brief moment, then shook his head. “Battle damage, no doubt. Probably why they didn’t warn us of their approach.”

“Yes, Captain.”

The
Heralc
, like all Priminae ships, had limited faster-than-light communications. The limit was a solid 3.29-light-year
range for transmission, the half-life of the transmission particles. They could boost that, much like life pods did with their emergency burst transmitters, but it would blow out the communications package in short order.

The
Heralc
should have been able to call ahead from several days earlier, at least. In fact, they should have been able to call for help before the attack on the Deice world had even occurred, using the repeater stations that were installed throughout the colonies’ space.

It was apparent that the Drasin were using new strategies this time and had probably taken out all the repeaters within the immediate range of the Deice world.

The amount of damage that the sensors were reading on the
Heralc
, however, explained quite clearly why they hadn’t made any calls.

“Ithan Kanna.”

“Captain!”

“How is your laser code?” Maran asked.

“It’s been a few cycles, Captain, but I can make myself understood.”

Johan smiled at the wry humor he heard in the young man’s voice and nodded gravely. “Good. Contact the
Heralc
. They obviously still have sensors since they’re evading the enemy fire.”

“Yes, Captain. What message, sir?”

“Tell them to make for Ranquil. Best speed,” Maran ordered. “There’s damned little more they can do here.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Cori.”

“Captain?” the weapons officer asked, not looking up.

“Kill us another Drasin.”

“Yes, Captain.”

PRIMINAE VESSEL HERALC
Interstellar Space, Ranquil Region

▸“THE
VULK
IS moving on the Drasin again, Captain. They’re breaking formation—ignoring us, sir!”

That wasn’t surprising, per say, but Senthe was surprised at how it made him feel. He and his crew had been battling them for days, had destroyed three of the ships in a long-running battle that had cost him over 90 percent of his crew, and now suddenly being ignored felt most irritating.

Of course, it was also a major relief.

“Damage Repair Reams, get me shields and communications back!” he ordered over the intercoms, gritting his teeth as he felt another small rumble run through the deck. “And for the love of the Maker, someone fix those hull breaches!”