It was Bertran’s turn to step forward. “It was always a risky proposition, sir. The missiles were already operating at the very edge of their capabilities. As it stands, they won’t be able to close the pursuit. They’re effectively out of fuel.”

  Faulkner’s frown deepened. “Oh. I see.”

  The group looked at one another. This was a huge disappointment after all the effort that had gone into it.

  “There is one good thing to come out of it,” Yamada said, “Our missiles do appear to have pushed them into a pre-emptive strike.”

  “They’ve realised their cover’s been blown,” Faulkner said.

  “That would seem to be the case, yes. This all tends to add weight to Lieutenant Commander Bertran’s theory that Tom Thumb always posed the more significant threat.”

  “We called their bluff,” Bertran moved into the centre of the group. “And that’s forced them to go early on the second part of their plan. They can’t risk Tom Thumb being destroyed so they’d had to move up their time-line.”

  “Which is good news, surely,” Faulkner said. “We’ve wrong-footed them.”

  Bertran didn’t look convinced. “I wouldn’t be so sure. Tom Thumb must still pose quite some considerable threat, even without Big Daddy providing cover.”

  “How can you be so sure,” Yamada wanted to know.

  “Because they haven’t aborted the mission,” Bertran said. “They must still think that Tom Thumb has a halfway decent chance of destroying Blackthorn on her own. Party’s not over yet because, if you look, Tom Thumb is already starting to come in on a slightly different approach vector.”

  He switched to the tactical display to make his point. The change in trajectory was small but it was significant.

  “We need to contact Blackthorn,” Faulkner said. “Let them know what’s going on.”

  A klaxon sounded throughout the ship. Faulkner looked up, confused.

  “What the hell’s going on? I didn’t order Battle stations.”

  “It’s an automatic alert, sir,” the helmsman said. “We’re detecting hostile fire in this vicinity.”

  “From whom?”

  “Could it be the Serrayu?” Yamada asked.

  “No, sir,” the helmsman said. “I’ve been monitoring her pretty closely. It’s definitely not her.”

  “It appears to be coming from Blackthorn,” Yamada said. He punched up an external view and they watched as a laser battery lit up their own exterior.

  “What the hell are they playing at?” Faulkner pointed at the console. “Can you put me through to the governor on this?”

  “I’m on it, sir,” Ensign Roberts indicated her ear bead. “They’re putting us through now.”

  After a short wait, Roberts pressed her ear. “The Governor is unavailable but they’re patching us through to her office.”

  *

  LaCruz reduced her speed to a crawl as they approached the edges of the crowd. There must have been at least five hundred people gathered in the road ahead with other, smaller groups spilling out over the pavements on either side. The new fence which had been erected was a lot further back than the previous one, they were a good five hundred meters away from the entrance to the terminal building.

  The main gate appeared to be shut but LaCruz headed for it anyway. She had to sound her horn a number of times but the crowd slowly made way for them. It probably helped that she was driving an electrical utilities truck. Grimes had stolen it from a restaurant car park fifteen minutes earlier. The overalls LaCruz was wearing had been stored in the back but there hadn’t been a second pair so Grimes had to make do with a high viz vest. He’d also rolled up the sleeves of his uniform to avoid drawing any undue attention.

  The first part of their plan worked well as the security guards rolled a section of fencing aside to allow them through. But then they were directed to a self-contained car-parking area which contained a number of trucks similar to their own.

  The guard who followed them in was careful to close the gate behind him. While he was dressed in the electric blue of station security, that wasn’t true of the bulk of the others walking around. They wore civilian clothes augmented with body armour, their authority granted more by their weaponry than anything else.

  She exchanged a glance with Grimes.

  “What can we do for you today?” the guard sounded affable enough.

  “We got a call-out,” LaCruz said. “Seems you’ve got a problem with one of your ventilation shafts.”

  “First I’ve heard of it.”

  “Ain’t that always the way,” she indicated the main terminal building. “You still got people in there?”

  The man turned to look at the building as if seeing it for the first time. “A few, why? Is that a problem?”

  “It is if you’ve got machinery in there and the pumps aren’t working. You’re going to have all kinds of nasty stuff being pumped back into the main area.”

  “Far as I know everything’s working as normal.”

  “That tends to be the case until people start passing out because of poor air quality. Then you’ve got a medical emergency on top of everything else.”

  The man searched through his tablet looking for some notification he’d missed.

  “I’m going to have to call someone before I can let you through.”

  LaCruz nodded as if she understood his predicament. “Good idea. Just don’t take too long.”

  The man went off in the direction of a newly erected watch tower.

  LaCruz indicated the civilian contractors grouped just in front of them.

  “What do you think these guys are up to?”

  “It’s not these guys I’m worried about,” Grimes said. “See those guys over on the lawn? The ones with the spades? They’re the ones I’m worried about.”

  LaCruz didn’t understand what he was talking about. There were perhaps a dozen of them. They looked as though they were planting trees. In two rows. Only there was no sign of any tree saplings.

  “Look at that, over there.”

  Grimes indicated one of the men kneeling on the grass. He was unwrapping something which he then lifted with almost reverential care. He carried it across to one of the freshly dug holes, planting his feet methodically. The object was lowered into the hole before another man covered it with soil.

  LaCruz thought it was strange how the man didn’t attempt to tamp the soil down once he’d finished.

  “Looks like we found our explosives,” she said.

  As she spoke, they heard the squeak of the gate being opened behind them. Instead of the guard, they turned to see two women pushing a grav-sled. Both of them were wearing side arms. One of the women seemed to take an instant dislike to LaCruz as they passed staring at her as they crossed to an armoured truck situated in the corner adjacent to where the mercenaries were gathered.

  They opened the rear of the truck and started to unload its contents onto the sled.

  “You couldn’t make this shit up,” Grimes marvelled.

  The sled was slowly being loaded with pound after pound of high-grade explosives.

  “Should I see if I can get through to Markham on the tactical loop?” LaCruz said.

  “I’ve already tried that. They must have changed their operating frequency.”

  “Well, we’ve got to think of something. If these guys are setting up an ambush we’ve got to let Markham know.”

  “There might be another way,” Grimes indicated for her to be quiet.

  The two women had finished loading the sled and were pushing it back in their direction. All the time they were walking, the dark woman stared straight at LaCruz only breaking eye contact when they had to negotiate their way through the fence.

  “Looks like you’ve found a new friend,” Grimes said after they’d left.

  “Least I’ve got a friend,” LaCruz said. She watched the two men push the sled over towards the lawn area. “What did you mean when you said there might be another way?”

  Grimes pointed to the truck. “How good are you with locks?”

  *

  “This is Deputy Governor Parnashikan,” his voice seemed overly loud to Faulkner. “I didn’t expect to be hearing from you quite so soon, captain.”

  “I need to speak with the governor. Urgently.”

  “I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible. The governor is currently under house arrest pending her trial.”

  Faulkner worked to control his emotions but then said, “Very well. I assume that puts you in charge then, Deputy Governor.”

  “For the short term, yes. What can I do for you? Are you hoping to withdraw your Marines?”

  “Not at the moment,” Faulkner was struggling to make sense of everything. “I wanted to know why your defence system just activated?”

  “Well, it may have escaped your attention, captain, but there’s an enemy ship bearing down on us. Personally, I’m surprised that the governor didn’t take action sooner.”

  “Are you not aware of the defensive protocols which the governor drew up? The arrangements we’ve been working from?”

  They could hear fragments of a conversation on the other end of the line. Then Parnashikan came back on.

  “Ah, yes. You must be talking about your secret meetings with Governor Ardent. I’m afraid that any arrangements which you might have made with her are now null and void.”

  Faulkner held Yamada’s gaze as they both realised that matters were fast getting out of hand.

  “Deputy Governor, I must stress that by attacking Big Daddy in this way, you’re playing into the enemy’s hands. We have reason to believe that Tom Thumb poses the greatest risk to your safety. Could I prevail upon you to cease firing as soon as possible, at least long enough for us get this confusion sorted out.”

  “I’d love to help,” Parnashikan said. “But once I’ve given an order, I’m loathe to go back on it. You must understand that, surely?”

  Then the connection was broken.

  Faulkner stood there looking like a wounded bear.

  Eventually, he said, “Mr Bertran, how long before we can launch another attack on Tom Thumb.”

  Bertran looked confused. “Sir, we can’t launch what with the Serrayu...”

  “That wasn’t what I asked,” Faulkner snapped.

  “Captain,” Yamada interrupted. “In Commander Webster’s absence, I feel that it is my duty to remind you of Captain Mahbarat earlier warning. He said that any military action on our part would be looked upon as an act of war. Sir, to launch an attack at this time, without recourse to our main engines, would surely jeopardise the safety of this ship and her crew.”

  Time seemed to stretch out as Faulkner transferred his gaze from Yamada to Bertran and back again.

  “Very well,” Faulkner took a pained breath. “What do you suggest we do?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Faulkner sent a message to the Serrayu alerting them to the fact that they were preparing to launch a direct attack on Tom Thumb. Giving exact details of how many missiles were to be launched and in what order. It wasn’t the sort of information a starship captain normally shared with anyone, much less the captain of an enemy vessel but he hoped that his candour might deter Captain Mahbarat from making any rash decisions. He had no doubts that the Yakutians were monitoring the Mantis’ energy outputs and would be able to detect the upsurge in power usage.

  Faulkner was taking a risk, albeit a calculated one.

  They could only wait now and see if Mahbarat intended to follow through on his promise. If the Serrayu were to launch an attack at this distance they would have very little warning and there would be very little that they could do about it.

  “We could always fire on the Serrayu first,” Bertran said, as though reading his thoughts. “They wouldn’t be expecting it.”

  Faulkner narrowed his eyes. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Seize the initiative. If we wait until they fire we’ll be fortunate to survive their first salvo.”

  Bertran was right, although Faulkner was loathed to admit it. Crippled as they were, there was very little they could do to defend themselves. They didn’t even have shields to fall back on. Their fate would hang on the question of how much damage their hull could sustain before they bowed to the inevitable.

  “Thank you for that, lieutenant commander, duly noted. But until I receive orders from the admiralty, we’re only in a position to defend ourselves.”

  “But, sir, Mahbarat confirmed it himself: we’re already at war. There’d be no shame in it.”

  Faulkner gave the man a long stare.

  “I’ve already been down that road, lieutenant commander. It’s a long one and there’s no coming back from it.”

  Bertran seemed exasperated by Faulkner’s lack of action. “But if the situation were reversed, do you really think that Mahbarat would hesitate?”

  “I believe Captain Mahbarat to be an honorable man. He could have fired on us as soon as he heard the news, but he didn’t. He’s held back so far, I just hope that we can prevail on him to hold back a little longer.”

  They were interrupted by Yamada. “Sir, we’ve just had verification: it appears that Tom Thumb has gone into its final boost stage.”

  Faulkner moved quickly across to where Yamada was standing. The lieutenant transferred his feed to the bigger screen.

  As they watched, a tightly controlled bolt of energy hurtled across space in the direction of the incoming ship. But, just as it looked as though Tom Thumb was sure to be destroyed, it jinked to one side, evading the white-hot ball of plasma completely.

  Watching the ship’s progress was grimly fascinating for they all knew that the way the ship was maneuvering was virtually impossible and yet here they were witnessing it.

  Three energy pulses lanced across space towards their target but as they watched each one failed to find their target. Tom Thumb appeared to have somehow been informed of the station’s firing patterns in advance.

  “How is it doing that?” Faulkner said. “Surely the targeting computers should be making some headway.”

  Bertran said, “You’re forgetting that this is a totally new technology we’re dealing with.”

  “And that’s what’s making me nervous. If we can’t hit this thing how are we going to stop it?”

  “I’m sure we’ll think of something, sir.”

  “I’m sure you will. The question is how much damage is this thing going to do in the meantime?”

  They stood and watched as it twisted and turned, unlike any other conventional craft they’d ever seen.

  “On the positive side,” Bertran said, “we can safely assume that it’s unmanned: nothing human could survive these kinds of speeds.”

  “Only we’ve already established they’re not human, haven’t we?”

  “Sorry, sir. What I meant to say is that nothing biological could survive those kinds of pressures. It’s just not possible.”

  “So, you’re suggesting that it has some kind of automated orientation system. An A.I. or something along those lines.”

  “Something like that,” Bertran conceded.

  “And that’s supposed to make me feel better?”

  The ship continued twisting and dodging in its attempt to evade the defensive fire unleashed by another of Blackthorn’s laser batteries. All the time this was happening it would be gathering data about them, assessing their strengths and weaknesses. The most obvious being that Blackthorn’s defences could only detect objects at a given radius and not before. That meant that its responses were limited.

  “They’re less than fifteen thousand kilometers out,” Yamada said. “What do you propose we do?”

  “We can’t win this one,” Bertran said, indicating the Serrayu at the bottom of the screen. “If we launch now, the Serrayu will interpret that as a hostile act, yet if we do nothing …”

  “Mr Bertran is correct,” Faulkner prompting nervous glances from around the bridge. “Captain Mahbarat has made his position extremely clear. The initiative now lies with him.”

  Much as Faulkner disliked playing these sorts of games, he wanted to see how his opposite number would react under pressure. It was one thing for Mahbarat to say that he would do nothing, it would be quite another for him to stand idly by and watch a multi-billion credit asset being wiped out.

  Bertran and Faulkner regarded one another coldly, neither one willing to voice their concerns.

  Standing by and doing nothing might have been the easiest thing to do but morally he found it almost unbearable. Still, he wasn’t prepared to jeopardise the lives of his crew when the Serrayu was more than capable of handling this engagement on her own. Where the lasers had failed, Yakutian missiles were sure to prevail.

  “Any word from Blackthorn on how they intend to handle this?”

  It was clear that their attempts to evacuate the station via the umbilical had fallen well short of expectations.

  One of the Threat Assessment Team spoke up. “Everything’s in uproar down there, sir. It’s difficult to know who’s in charge. There are reports which support what the Vice Governor’s been telling us but there’s no way he’s giving us the whole story.”

  “Any word on Commander Webster?”

  “We’ve been monitoring the activities of their security services. According to them Commander Webster and Lieutenant Silva have been placed under arrest.”

  “I see. And the charges?”

  “Sedition.”

  Faulkner drummed his fingers on his command chair. “Anything else?”

  “The crew of The Merry Widow are getting ready to depart.”

  Faulkner plucked at the sleeve of his jacket.

  “Under the circumstances, you can hardly blame them.”

  *

  Grimes squatted in the back of the armoured van while LaCruz guarded the door. The station had switched into full night-time mode plunging them into virtual darkness.

  The mercenaries had set up a series of bright lights along the edge of the main lawn which allowed them to carry on working while Grimes had to rely on the glow of his headlight.

  “Any luck getting through to the sergeant?” he asked.