Under A Winter Sun Johan Dahlgren (digital e reader .txt) 📖

of metres per second should be enough to destroy that monstrosity.

With Finn aboard.

“He's right, Jagr,” Soledad agrees. “As much as I hate to admit it, his thinking is solid. That thing would not survive.”

Jagr looks to the ceiling and ponders the decision for a few seconds. Then she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.

“All right.” She opens her eyes and turns back to Crom. “Marshal.”

He turns his attention to her at once. “My lady.”

“That ship must be stopped. At all cost. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, milady.”

There's a brief pause. “I understand you perfectly.”

There's a slight tremble in his voice. “There's no time to evacuate my crew.”

Jagr looks away. “I am aware of that. I'm sorry, star marshal.”

“They are soldiers, milady. This is what they signed up for.”

Commander Hardigan steps into view behind the star marshal. “What are your orders, sir?”

Crom looks dead ahead and swallows. “Steady as she goes, Mr Hardigan.”

The Commander salutes his superior. “Sir.”

“Dame Jagr. Tell my family I love them.”

“I will.” Jagr snaps a salute. “Goodbye, star marshal.”

Crom does not return the salute. “Crom, out.”

Jagr lowers her hand to rub her chin with her palm.

“Fuck. I just killed ten thousand people.”

“And my best friend.”

The music in the cockpit turns off. Braden has realised what's about to happen.

All eyes lock on the screen showing the faster Shiloh catching up to the much larger Naglfar at an angle. On the screen, they creep towards each other, but a readout next to each ship's icon informs me they travel at several hundred kilometres per second. The sheer kinetic energy of the Shiloh crashing into the Naglfar will be the largest bomb ever detonated. At least it will be a quick death.

The ships are now only centimetres apart, translating to a thousand kilometres in actual space.

In the feed from the bridge, star marshal Crom opens his eyes wide. “Holy mother of Go …”

And they collide.

I can only imagine the millions of tonnes of hypercarbon and metal grinding together and tearing apart. Crumbling away, crushing all the human and Goliath life into dust. We got them. But it cost dearly. I have no love for the Terrans, but what the star marshal did will go down in the history books, right up there with the Spartans at Thermopylae.

I stare at the screens showing the void outside and send Crom a silent thanks and a big fuck you.

He killed my only friend.

“What the …”

The disbelief in Soledad's voice tears my attention away from the screen and Finn's death. She points at another screen. It's full of tiny dots drifting away from the point of impact, and I take a second to comprehend what has happened. One large dot is still moving on its original trajectory. The Naglfar. What the actual fuck? Will nothing kill that thing?

My heart does a leap of joy at the thought Finn might still be alive.

Jagr stares into space. “Braden. Match speed with the Naglfar. Hold your distance.”

“Matching speed.” Braden eases up on the accelerator, and we float behind the ghostship.

No one says anything. There's nothing to say. Soledad speaks anyway. “The armour on that ship has to be twenty metres thick to survive that.” She looks awed, and not a little impressed. Is that a touch of arousal in her chestnut engineer's eyes?

“Don't you have anything that can hurt that ship?” the priest asks of anyone and no one from his seat.

It takes Soledad a while to answer.

We hold our breaths, hoping she will come up with a solution.

“No. If it can survive a collision with our largest battlecruiser, there's nothing that will hurt it. Nothing at all.”

Nothing.

Shit.

Unless …

“Swamp turtles.” I rise from my seat.

“What?” Soledad looks like she can't believe her ears.

“When I was a kid back on Elysium, we used to hunt swamp turtles.”

Jagr rolls her eyes and sighs as she hits the release on her seat. “Does this story have a point, Perez?”

I ignore her. “Swamp turtles have impenetrable shells, but their guts are soft. You kill them by firing explosive arrows up their ass.”

Jagr puts her fists on her hips and looks like she is about to punch me. “How is this piece of quaint trivia relevant to our current situation?”

Tyrus looks interested and leaves his seat too. I think he understands where I'm going with this.

I turn to our resident mechanic. “Soledad. The armour on that thing may be twenty metres thick, but what if it blew up from inside? If, say, the drive core on that thing went nova? Would that destroy it?”

She does some quick calculations in her head. “Perhaps.”

Her eyes narrow with sparked interest. “What are you thinking?”

“I'm thinking we get aboard the fucker and blow the thing from inside.” I use my hands to show how the thing will explode.

That was not what they were hoping for.

They stare at me like I'm crazy. Maybe I am. But I know that if we do nothing, this is it. The bad guys win. Forever. And my only friend is on that ship.

Tyrus scratches his bushy beard. “Are you saying we should board that thing?”

“Yes.”

“That's a suicide mission.”

“I know.”

“Who would go?”

“I'll go. I need to get Wagner out, anyway. Might as well blow the ship up while I'm there. Who's coming?”

“I'll go.”

I smile. “Not much choice, Aeryn.”

“I know. Only taking credit for being first to volunteer.”

The others look into the distance. After an interminable pause, Tyrus speaks up.

“Fuck it. You don't get to be a hero on your own, Perez. A bottle of whisky says I'll beat you to that drive core.”

I give him a smirk. “We'll see about that.”

“I'll come,” Jagr confirms. “This is still my mission. I failed to stop that ship. I want another chance.”

“But we do this my way.” I point to my chest. “You had your chance, Jagr. You blew it. This time I call the shots.”

She looks half furious, half relieved. For an instant, I fear she will challenge me, but then she raises her hands, palms out. “Be my guest.”

“If you go, boss, I'll