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“All hands to battle-stations.”

Urle gave the order, and the command center exploded into action.  Officers ran about, speaking in rapid voices, and crewmen began to work furiously, sending all the signals to prepare the ship for combat, to inform the crew, to get everything locked down – a million actions, triggered by the one phrase.

It was no longer theoretical, just a possibility.  They were in action now.

Jaya, among them all, seemed the calmest.

She’d been born for combat command, Urle thought.  A part of him even wondered if she should be in command now, instead of him.  To fight, to kill, was not his forte, even if he could – and had – commanded in battle before.

But he would not give up the command seat until his dying breath, or until Brooks returned.  And right now, the latter option was in doubt.

“We have thirty-five, repeat three-five missiles inbound for the shuttle,” an officer informed him.

“Counter-fire missiles.  I don’t want one getting within fifty kilometers of the Captain!” he ordered.

“Counter-missiles launched, sir.”

Urle checked the computer’s calculations on optimal detonation points, approving them.  The computer would be better at such numbers than even he, but he still believed in double-checking.

Their salvo of missiles were visible on-screen now, streaks of light that were soon swallowed by the infinite dark.

Seconds later, he saw more blips appear from the Hev fleet, just as Cenz spoke.

“We have more launches, repeat more Hev launches.  Counting . . . over eighty . . . no, we have a third wave, oh my . . . an additional one-hundred and twenty-one missile launches. Two-hundred and thirty-seven missiles in total between all three waves, sir.”

“They are determined,” Jaya noted sourly.  She turned in her chair to look at Urle.  “Sir, we can counter their missile launches, but they surely have more than us.  And the more they launch, the higher the odds that one makes it through.”

“I’m aware of that,” Urle said.  “Estimated time to them reaching the Captain?”

“Approximately twenty-nine minutes,” Cenz told him.  “Ours have greater velocity, but we are still cutting it close.”

It would take much longer than that for the shuttle to return to the Craton.

They had limited options.  The Craton was charged for a jump, and they could jump in to aid the Captain, but if they did . . .

They’d be stuck.

But Brooks was a Captain, about to be taken captive by the Hev.  At best he would become a bargaining chip, and more than likely he’d end up in the hands of the Fesha – who would probably strip his mind for anything and everything of value.

A notification appeared, startling him.  Almost any notification should have been stifled right now, but this-

This was for a Captain’s eyes only.  It was from the ship’s computer.  The AI had understood the situation, and was now informing him of a special command.

He opened it, read it.

C-Directive 12, it was called.  Something that he, as only Executive Commander, had not been privy to.

His heart was beating.

‘Under Special Order of the SU Supreme Council, all measures are to be taken to prevent the capture of a Shoggoth by hostile forces.’

It bore the electronic signature of the council, and he knew it was true.

Now he had even fewer options.

The computer made a suggestion to him, and he checked, but no one else saw it.

‘Recommend firing upon shuttle to complete C-Directive 12.’

“No,” he said softly, the word just slipping out.

“Captain,” Eboh said.  “We are receiving a tight-beam from the Bright Flower.”

“Open channel,” Urle ordered.

Guona Daa appeared.

“Captain Urle,” she said.  “We have seen the situation, and request permission to jump in to rescue Captain Brooks and his team.  If you can provide covering fire, I believe we can survive long enough to meet back up with you and potentially transfer our crew over.  We’ll lose the Bright Flower, but it will be worth it.”

It was a brave idea, Urle first thought.  But he didn’t even need to run the numbers to know just how unrealistic it was.

“No,” he told her.  “That won’t be necessary.  I want you to jump out immediately, and return to Commodore Siilon.”

“And the Craton?” Daa asked.

“We’ll be going in,” Urle replied.

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< Ep 6 Part 34 | Ep 6 Part 36 >