Stormbreak (Seafire #3) - Natalie C. Parker Page 0,33
flank them. Neither channel was an option.
Knowing that what she was about to do was either going to get them killed or get them free, Caledonia returned to the bridge with hurried steps.
“Nettle, I need you to maintain the helm and I need you to trust me.”
“I trust you,” Nettle responded instantly.
“I am going to be your eyes. I need you to be my hands.” Satisfied by the spark of recognition that flared in the hazel rings of Nettle’s eyes, she turned to the rest of the bridge crew. “Reverse thrusters, engines to half speed.”
Alarm marked each of their faces as they understood her intentions.
“Now,” she said, voice even and deadly calm.
“Incoming!” Pine shouted seconds before the first hail of bullets sang against the hull.
“Reversing thrusters!” shouted one voice.
“Engines to half speed!” shouted another.
“I am your hands, Captain,” Nettle said, standing close enough that Caledonia could hear the tremor on her breath.
Two Bullet ships roared out of the channels, guns firing and lights flaring now that they’d spotted their prey. They were smaller, faster, lighter, and as the Luminous Wake reversed and gained speed, the Bullets gave chase with vicious glee.
Caledonia turned her eyes away and studied the channel now rushing up behind them. She stood with her shoulder to Nettle’s, ready to direct her hands.
“Steady,” she said to Nettle. “Now two degrees port.”
Nettle responded by turning the ship exactly as Caledonia requested. The Luminous Wake soared down the center of the canal, and a fresh round of bullets pierced her nose.
“Engines to three-quarter speed,” Caledonia ordered. “Nettle, one degree port. Good. Now . . . two starboard.”
The walls of the canal blurred in Caledonia’s peripheral vision. Nettle stared straight ahead, her grip tight against the wheel, her lips set in a steely line as she reacted to Caledonia’s commands as seamlessly as if they were her own. But when a bullet shattered against the self-healing glass inches from her face, her fingers jerked and so did the ship. The movement sent them sharply to port, the hull scraping along the wall of the channel with a scream of metal against stone.
Half of the bridge crew hit the ground. Caledonia was thrown against the wall, her head smacking against the steel barrier. Pain burst behind her eyes, her vision flashing white as she regained her feet.
“Three degrees starboard, Nettle, NOW!”
Nettle did as she commanded, pulling the ship off the wall and back into the center of the canal.
“Cover!” Oran shouted on the forward deck just before a missile exploded against the hull.
Caledonia felt the sudden flush of warmth at her back and knew without looking that the missile had struck their nose. Judging by the stuttering vibration in the deck, it had struck them hard.
This wasn’t sustainable. But it didn’t have to be. It just had to last a little longer.
“We’re closing in,” she told Nettle, keeping her voice steady. “Just hold on.”
“Three hundred yards, Captain,” Harwell said, having rightly guessed her mind. He stood by the map table tucked in the back corner of the small room, one hand braced against the bulkhead for stability.
She nodded, her mind on the task of getting them safely through those three hundred yards. Though her crew had spent plenty of time training in the canals, including reversal maneuvers, they’d never trained at these speeds. It was hard enough to thread these narrow channels when you were pointed in the right direction.
But she had the finest crew on the seas.
“Engines to full,” she ordered.
There was collective shift in the room, a ratcheting of tension visible only in the sudden press of lips or narrowing of eyes. All except for Nettle. If anything, the order seemed to relax her, as though the final piece of this outrageous plan had fallen into place and there was nothing left to surprise her. In that way, she and Caledonia were exactly alike; they didn’t crack under pressure, they settled beneath it.
Blood slipped down from Caledonia’s temple, but the pain was gone, replaced by the rush of battle. All the uncertainty and sorrow she’d felt as they fled Cloudbreak was muted beneath the demands of the moment. Here, in the midst of battle, her mind was clear and her heart calm.
Another missile exploded against the hull, this time with enough force to send the ship skimming against the wall. Rocks rained down from high above as Caledonia issued instructions to Nettle.
“Two hundred yards, Captain!” Harwell called in a voice pulled taut.