The Heart of Matter: Odyssey One (37 page)

▸“TEN SECONDS TO zero point, Captain.”

Eric nodded, acknowledging Winger’s report, and made a motion to Lieutenant Daniels. “Execute evasive patterns.”

“Aye, Captain.”

The
Odyssey
rumbled then as its big thrusters fired, shoving the ship out of its current line of travel.

“Two…one…zero point,” Winger announced.

The bridge tensed, waiting to see if the coronal flare of one of the enemy’s powerful lasers would light up their sensors. The zero point that Winger had calculated was the exact time it would take a laser to reach their position, if they operated on the assumption that the Drasin had instantly returned fire when they detected the
Odyssey
.

Moments passed, and it quickly became obvious that the enemy ships hadn’t been so quick to act.

Whether it was because they were slow or because they were smart didn’t matter so much at this point. What did matter was that the
Odyssey
was now maneuvering to stay well clear of the likely lines of fire, while the weapons people under Eric
Weston tried like the devil to predict what the alien minds downrange were thinking and doing at that exact moment.

Eric wondered if the problem was driving the other minds on the
Odyssey
as batty as it was driving him. He found himself alternating between hoping that it was and hoping that it wasn’t. One the one hand, he really needed someone to pop up with a miraculous view into the thought processes of the alien mind, but on the other, he’d honestly hate to be the only one on the ship with a migraine over the whole situation.

Survival versus personal satisfaction—it was a terrible choice to have to make.

DRASIN FORCES, RANQUIL SYSTEM

▸IF THE IDEA of “taken aback” could apply to the command consciousness of the Drasin fleet, then it had been taken aback when the third enemy ship appeared on the detection grid, already accelerating toward them at six-twentieths of the normal space maximum and climbing. It was more than merely the fact that a third ship tilted the odds against the fleet, making the likelihood of them eliminating the fleeing band much slimmer, but also that it had been able to hide at all.

Now that the consciousness was focused on this ship, it was obviously one of the band. Its scarlet scent was so strong that it should have been visible from out-system, yet it had remained undetected until this point.

That was wrong.

The command was given then, and the lead two of the fleet turned to meet the third ship. The injured and lame of the band were limping toward them, but at a reduced speed, and were of no import. Behind them was a more powerful, and hale, warrior of the band, but behind him, there were two more of the fleet.

To this point, the battle had gone well for the fleet, but the new factors could easily turn the pull of gravity against them. For all that, however, there was no real choice. If they could not eliminate the dregs of the last system cleansed, they would at least remove one of the system threats, then turn to deal with the others.

The units of the fleet accelerated to full normal velocity and prepared to engage the enemy.

PRIMINAE VESSEL HERALC
Ranquil System

▸KIERNA SENTHE WATCHED as the Drasin cruisers altered course to intercept the
Odyssey
, still seething from the scathing words blasted at him just minutes before by Captain Johan of the
Vulk
.

He should have known that it was the
Odyssey
; every military vessel of the Priminae people had to know of that ship by this time. He could defend his ignorance. It was unlikely that the
Odyssey
would be in Ranquil at this time. He and his crew were tired, so tired, in fact, that they had begun having problems sleeping when they had the time, as it was alien to them to do so now.

Even more truthfully a cause, though he would never speak it out loud, was that the young woman standing the weapons station was far too inexperienced to be running that station. She should have located the
Odyssey
in the computers, as they did have a minimal profile on the ship, but she had not.

Senthe would never let those words see any report, however. Ithan Serra had done a heroic job since the death of her
superior, and he would be damned to the destroyer before he or anyone was critical of that.

Besides, it was on his head, not hers or anyone else.

He should have double-checked when it came back unknown, but it seemed unimportant at the time. The Drasin themselves were far more urgent, so he’d thought.

“Engine report!” he growled, in a decidedly bad mood.

“We’re stressed badly, Captain. The reactors are down by a third mass and dropping.”

The reply wasn’t one he wanted to hear. If the reactor mass dropped below half, it would begin to adversely affect the ship; if it fell below a third, then the reactors would fall below the stable point and collapse, or rather, cease collapsing.

That would leave them dead in space—in more ways than one.

“Very well. Increase draw from the reactors, and direct it to the primary thrust.”

“Captain!”

Senthe slashed his hand through the air, cutting off the shocked protest. “Do it!”

There was a long, tense silence.

“Yes, sir.”

It didn’t take long—power draw from the cores was nearly instantaneous—so in short order, the numbers were changing quickly as the
Heralc
jumped from its relatively low acceleration to a full tenth over its rated maximum, leaping forward through space toward the enemy and the ally.

NACS ODYSSEY
Ranquil System

▸“CORONAL FLARE!” WINGER announced, with a sudden burst of instinctive terror. Winger, Weston noted, always gave them the best news.

“Analyze,” Eric ordered, though he supposed that it wasn’t strictly necessary to do so. His people knew their jobs.

“Working,” Waters replied by rote, leaning over his panel as he turned the computers’ attention to determining the beam frequency of the enemy laser.

“Which ship fired that, Michelle?” Eric asked as Waters worked.

“Vector indicates the lead ship, sir,” she informed him. “It was aimed at our projected position, if we had stayed on course.”

Eric nodded.

So far so good. They were following a predictable strategy so far, which meant that he could outthink them and then outfight them.

“Analyzed, sir,” Waters announced.

“Adapt our forward armor to compensate,” Eric ordered. “And, Daniels?”

“Yes, sir?” The young man at the helm stiffened, glancing back.

“Try to keep the lead ship between us and his friend as much as you can.”

The bridge was a smoothly operating machine, a fact that pleased Weston to no end. He only hoped that the rest of the ship was operating to the same degree.

We’re all depending on just that.

“Suits, you dumb bastards, suits!” Chief Petty Officer Corrin screamed as she swung over one of the knee-knockers that separated the forward armaments berth from the corridor behind. She hooked her hand in one of the overhead locker handles and stopped her forward momentum as she grabbed one of the racked vacuum suits and threw it at its owner.

“Sorry, Chief,” the man babbled quickly, grabbing the suit in midair and struggling into it.

“Don’t forget again, Jenkins,” she snarled through her own unsealed suit helmet. “We lost five guys in this goddamned station last time we tangled with these bad boys. Three of ’em died from exposure to hard vacuum. You got me?”