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it.” Assuming the rest of the friendly forces were clustered around him, which made sense, they were heading away from Mars, toward its Lawrence limit. That puts them at about an hour and a half to two hours away from the Sol System Lawrence limit if he times the microjump right.

“I know that look.”

Wright’s statement made her smile. “Oh?”

“Skipper, we can’t jump the ship into the Sol system. It would far exceed our orders.”

“Hopefully, we won’t have to.” Tehrani set her jaw. “But I’m not leaving my people behind.”

In the silence that followed, tension of a different sort appeared, the old tug of war between the two of them. One was focused on the mission’s success, and the other was intent on protecting the crew and ship as much as possible. The differences of opinion were required for the Greengold to function appropriately, but sometimes Tehrani wished she didn’t seem to veer so much toward risk-taking. Or am I? Maybe Wright was too cautious. One thing was for sure in her mind: leaving pilots behind if they could get them out wasn’t in the cards. The minutes continued to count down, and Tehrani prayed no further delays would come from engineering.

Justin blinked as his eyes adjusted to the HUD as he processed that they’d successfully emerged from the artificial wormholes. There had been no further engagements before they reached Mars’s Lawrence limit and powered up the FTL drives, and all fighters popped out of their wormholes just inside of Pluto’s orbit—they were less than an hour from being home free. Score one for the good guys. As long as the Marines got the fuel, we might pull this off.

Reality soon shattered his wishful thinking. The sensor overlay snapped on, showing thousands of contacts. Justin’s jaw dropped. “Martin, Green, you guys see this?”

“Enough Leaguer ships to wipe out half the galaxy?” Green replied. “Yeah, I see it.”

How are we getting through this? Dammit, Justin. Focus. Work the problem. “See any holes?” As he asked, Justin zoomed the sensor display in along with entering a search string into the combat computer—looking for any weakness. The Leaguers had noticeably fewer ships in some areas, and most vessels were small—the corvettes previously observed along with a few frigates.

“Thirty minutes away at maximum thrust, they’ve got a lower concentration of warships but more fighters,” Martin said. “We might have better luck there.”

Justin changed his focus to the region Martin had indicated. Yeah, Leaguers are thin there. He immediately wondered if it was a trap. Probably not—they don’t think that fast on their feet usually. Even if it was, it didn’t matter. The noose was tightening around the entire operation, and it would come down to superior skill and a healthy dose of good luck. “Frankly, it appears to be our only option, unless someone has a better idea.”

“I got nothing, except it’s been an honor to fly with everyone today,” Green replied. “Even if the War Hogs are the best pilots on the Greengold.”

“We’ll settle our accounts when we all make it back,” Justin said in a taut tone. “No heroics. Punch through and keep going. The point’s been made. No holovid stuff, got it?”

“Aye, aye, sir.” Martin waggled the wings of his Ghost.

“Okay. Inform your squadrons, and I’ll brief mine. Good luck, folks.” Justin flipped his commlink back to Alpha element. “Everyone still with me?”

“Until the entire League Navy shows up and shoots us down, yeah,” Feldstein replied. “Everything’s just peachy, sir.”

Justin snickered. “They have a few gaps without full coverage. Whatever else I can say about them, the damn Leaguers seem to have plotted where gravity wells prevent in-system jumps very carefully. Another hour, and the entire system will be locked down.”

“We’ll be fine,” Mateus interjected. “Just try to keep up with me.”

“Even if we don’t make it back,” Adeoye said, “we have accomplished our objective and injected fear into the enemy’s heart.”

Startled, Justin pondered his words for a moment. That sounded like a man making peace with death. Thinking his wingman might know something he didn’t, Justin looked at the small printed picture of Michelle and Maggie. He’d moved it from his Sabre to the Ghost as a reminder of why he fought. I’m coming home, baby.

“None of that talk. We’re all landing together. Come to heading zero-four-eight, max stealth speed.”

“That’s the last of it, sir.” MacIntosh stood from his console. “The Greengold has a full primary and backup fuel load.”

Nishimura turned from staring out the bridge’s window. “Outstanding.” He turned to Flores. “Thank you doesn’t seem like it’s enough.”

She smiled and turned her palms outward. “God puts us where we’re meant to be, to carry out His plan.” Flores climbed up from her station. “I only thank Him that I was able to do it.”

The League woman’s faith continued to touch Nishimura to his core. Not much got through the tough Marine exterior, but she was, in spades. He furrowed his brow. “Look, uh, Candace, why don’t you come with us? Everyone here will vouch for what you did. I’m pretty sure we’d grant you asylum.”

Tears shone in Flores’s eyes, and she twisted her face. “If the Terran Coalition is a tenth of what you’ve expressed to me, Major Nishimura, I would give one of my limbs to take you up on your kind offer.” Flores shook her head. “But I can’t. I have a husband and three children on an agriculture station at Jupiter. Brothers, sisters, parents, aunts, and uncles, scattered all over the League. You have to understand how the political commissars work. They would kill my entire family and send everyone I know to the reeducation camps.”

A knot formed in Nishimura’s stomach. “Then what’s going to happen when they figure out you helped us?”

MacIntosh pointed at the door leading out of the freighter’s bridge. “Major, the shuttle’s arriving from the Zvika Greengold. We’re to evac immediately, per Colonel Tehrani’s orders.”

“Go ahead, Captain. Make sure my Marines and the Master Guns are accounted for.”

“What about

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