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sticking to systems with no military or habitation presence.”

“They’re showing the flag,” Papoutsis said with a snort. “How many corvettes do we have ready to jump?”

“Eleven, boss. Everything else is ready. Hey, you’re not thinking of—”

Papoutsis glowered at him. “Why not? They’ve got an escort carrier with fewer weapons than we have and three escorts. Two of them are Saurian frigates over thirty years old, and the other’s a destroyer named after a guy who barely survived combat.” He snorted. “I’m sick and tired of running from the Terran Coalition and their goody-two-shoes CDF thugs. They’re no better than the Galters—or the League, for that matter. All are the same… impose their will on the rest of us.”

By that point, the entire bridge crew had stopped what they were doing and paid close attention to the conversation between Papoutsis and Parish.

“Order all units to form up. Plot a fleet jump for the Zvika Greengold, and we’re going to kill all those bastards until they quit sending them!” By the end, Papoutsis’s voice had risen to a roar. Part of the bravado was for show, to keep their morale up. Some of it was real.

“Yes, boss!” one of the navigators yelled.

The entire company began to cheer wildly.

Papoutsis smiled. It would feel good to eliminate the carrier and the ships supporting it. Then they would go back to getting rich. He glanced at his underling. “Oh, and send one of our better pilots to deal with the interloper here. I don’t want him making it back. Clear?”

“On it, boss.”

16

“Lawrence drive cooldown complete,” Wright said from his perch in the XO’s chair. “Ready to jump at your discretion, ma’am.”

Tehrani glanced around the Zvika Greengold’s bridge, taking a quick read of her crew. Nervous. They’re all nervous. Not that she could blame them—any moment could bring word from Spencer or a hostile threat from the pirates. At least Battlegroup Z was concentrated, for once. “Thank you, XO.” Her eyes flicked toward Mitzner. “Navigation, plot Lawrence jump for the next system on our patrol list.”

“Aye, aye, ma’am.”

Less than a minute elapsed before Mitzner’s voice rang out again. “Jump plotted and inputted into the nav computer, ma’am.”

As Tehrani sent the mental command to her mouth to order a jump, Bryan interrupted. “Conn, TAO. Aspect change, multiple inbound wormholes.”

“More freighters, maybe?” Wright asked rhetorically.

“Maybe it’s a rival megacorp,” Tehrani replied.

“Conn, TAO. Lusitanian signature confirmed,” Bryan said, his volume rising. “Ten—no, eleven corvettes, same design as the pirate vessels we’ve faced so far.” He bent over the tactical console, double-checking something. “One bulk hauler jumping in now. Same drive signature as the pirate carrier.”

Tehrani’s eyes grew wide, and she checked her own tactical plot just to be sure. The pirates are hitting mining operations now? It didn’t make sense on the face of it. Their MO was to attack freighters heading to Coalition space. Unless they’re here for us. The thought made her blood run cold, as it suggested other, more ominous possibilities. “TAO, designate all new contacts as hostile. Do you have a projected course?”

“Aye, aye, ma’am. Designating the carrier as Master One and the corvettes as Master Two through Twelve. They’re loitering around the jump-in point. Range from Master One is roughly three hundred thousand kilometers. The rest of the hostile contacts are tightly clustered around it.”

So far away was the enemy that Tehrani hadn’t called for general quarters yet. This is neutral space—it’s not our responsibility to defend. She set her jaw. “I don’t like our odds against this fleet, even with our entire battlegroup.”

“Concur, Skipper,” Wright replied. “Might be time to punch out. We don’t get paid to defend megacorps.” He quirked his nose. “But it strikes me as mighty odd for them to show up here just as we do.”

“You’re not the only one.” Tehrani directed her attention to the tactical plot. “Navigation, lay in a parabolic course away from the enemy. Prepare for Lawrence drive jump.”

“Aye, aye, ma’am.”

The stars shifted outside the windows directly to the fore of the bridge as the Greengold rotated in the void. Some of her escorts were briefly visible maneuvering around them and taking up flanking positions, per standard CDF combat doctrine.

“Conn, Communications.” Singh stared at her, his eyes narrowed. “Ma’am, I’m getting a lot of traffic between Master One and the megacorp shipmaster. They’re transmitting in the clear.” He paused. “The pirates are demanding to know why they’re working with us. There’s something in here about protecting money too.”

Wright put a hand to his forehead. “Great.”

“Shipmaster Ramires is attempting to explain that we announced we’re on a freedom-of-navigation exercise. Pirates aren’t buying it,” Singh continued. He glanced up. “They just shut off communications, ma’am.”

“Conn, TAO. Aspect change, all hostile contacts. They’ve gone to max sub-light and are headed directly for Sierra Eight.”

The Raifuku Maru.

“Dammit.” Wright exhaled loudly. “Those freighters are too far inside the gas giant’s gravity well to jump out before the pirates get there if my admittedly poor math is right.”

Tehrani double-checked her screen. “Mine’s not much better, but I concur.” She closed her eyes for a split second. “We can’t leave them to face the pirates alone, especially if we’re the cause of the attack. It would go against everything the CDF stands for.”

“How do you propose an escort carrier, a destroyer, two frigates, and a stealth raider take on a converted carrier and eleven overpowered corvettes plus God only knows how many fighters and bombers?” Wright stared at her with his mouth agape.

“The same way we’ve done it every other time we were outnumbered ten to one. Superior skill, training, and perhaps some help from Allah.”

Wright leaned in. “I’m not talking you out of this, am I?”

“No.” Tehrani smiled slightly. “You’re not.”

“Okay. Then let’s kill these guys and go pick up our wayward pilot. By the time we’re done here, he’ll probably have single-handedly waxed every pirate in the Lagoon Nebula.”

Tehrani suppressed a smirk at her XO’s smug prediction of victory, which she knew was a front. He gets worried every

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