back,” Casmir promised, but he held his breath, panicked thoughts spinning in his mind.
What if the original builders had put a failsafe in the software to keep someone from doing exactly this? Casmir hadn’t seen anything like that, but it was possible someone skilled could have hidden it from him.
The scanner displays came back up, and he exhaled in relief. All the mercenary ships that had been there before reappeared. And then new ships started popping up, pale gray blips on the visual instead of white. There were a lot of them. Forty? Fifty? The appearance of the hidden ships tripled the size of the mercenary fleet.
“You better get those shields back up quickly, Father,” Nalini murmured.
“I’m aware.” Shayban had been looking at the total number of ships all along.
Tristan pointed at one of the pale-gray blips, one firing at the station. “Singh, take us after that one. We’re going to have to start whittling away at our opponents.”
“Yes, sir,” the helmsman said.
The engines thrummed as the Moon Dart took off after its first real target.
Captain Ishii, Casmir composed a message, I don’t know if you’re watching what’s going on at Stardust Palace Station, but we could use some help here. I’m sure the sultan would be grateful if you flew in to blow away some mercenaries. It’s also possible that Dubashi is lurking in the background, masterminding this trouble. It could be a chance for the Fleet to take him out preemptively.
Casmir sent the note, knowing Ishii wasn’t near the station, but hoping the battle would go on long enough that he could help. If he came.
Would he? Shayban had been snubbing the Kingdom for weeks.
“Casmir,” Tristan said, “see if you can share this with all the other ships in our fleet. We’re all going to need this data.” He lowered his voice. “And to not worry about the fact that we’re outnumbered.”
“The weapons platforms on the asteroid even the odds,” Nalini said.
“The weapons platforms that, with the shields down, those ships are now targeting?” Tristan pointed at a new batch zeroing in on the far side of the asteroid.
Nalini swore. “Let’s get them.”
Casmir’s stomach plummeted as the ship accelerated, and he scrambled back into his pod. As the insulated sides cupped him protectively, he hoped his stomach would refrain from sending his last meal all over navigation. He was positive acting admirals weren’t supposed to puke all over their crew members.
We’re waiting for you and prepared to help, or at least not get in the way, a message came in from Mouser, making Qin forget to respond to Bonita’s last text.
Earlier, Qin had sent a message to Mouser, asking her to tell the cohort not to attack if she, Asger, Bjarke, and the crushers managed to get aboard the ship. Qin didn’t want to have to battle a bunch of warriors as capable as she was.
If it’s at all possible, Mouser’s message went on, we’ll get down to the airlock level to meet you.
Faint shudders coursed through the Star Mirage. Qin gripped the armrests of her pod and sent a quick note back that she’d gotten the message and hoped to see everyone alive again soon.
The ship’s pilot came over the speaker, tersely ordering everyone to stay in their pods. But Asger and Bjarke hurried to navigation, and Qin followed them. Was Queen Dya firing at them? Or was it the Druckers? Bonita’s last message had been ominous.
“What’s going on?” Bjarke demanded as they barged into navigation.
Jemadari sat next to the pilot, and they were both focused on the display. Queen Dya’s crystal-hulled yacht filled it. The ship fired, missiles streaking toward them.
“Our shields are still at a hundred percent after the first attack,” the pilot reported. “Shall we fire back, sir?”
Jemadari, who was gripping his chin, appeared more contemplative than worried.
“Yes,” Bjarke answered.
“Fire back,” Jemadari said slowly, “but don’t throw everything we’ve got at her. In fact, don’t try to damage her ship at all. Just make it look like we’re putting forth some effort.”
Bjarke frowned. “What’s going on? Is this a ruse?” He gripped Jemadari’s shoulder. “Did you plan something with her?”
Jemadari looked back coolly. “Release me, Sir Knight.”
“Answer my question.”
“Easy, Father.” Asger grabbed Bjarke’s arm and pulled him back. “We’re guests, remember?”
“We’re not guests; we’re the combat team, and if there’s combat, we should be in charge of it.”
The missiles struck and light flared on the display, but the shields remained intact.
“Bonita said we’re in trouble,” Qin said, not feeling any less confused than Bjarke.