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Chapters (42)
  1. Cover Blurb
  2. Contents
  3. Chapter One
  4. Chapter Two
  5. Chapter Three
  6. Chapter Four
  7. Chapter Five
  8. Chapter Six
  9. Chapter Seven
  10. Chapter Eight
  11. Chapter Nine
  12. Chapter Ten
  13. Chapter Eleven
  14. Chapter Twelve
  15. Chapter Thirteen
  16. Chapter Fourteen
  17. Chapter Fifteen
  18. Chapter Sixteen
  19. Chapter Seventeen
  20. Chapter Eighteen
  21. Chapter Nineteen
  22. Chapter Twenty
  23. Chapter Twenty-One
  24. Chapter Twenty-Two
  25. Chapter Twenty-Three
  26. Chapter Twenty-Four
  27. Chapter Twenty-Five
  28. Chapter Twenty-Six
  29. Chapter Twenty-Seven
  30. Chapter Twenty-Eight
  31. Chapter Twenty-Nine
  32. Chapter Thirty
  33. Chapter Thirty-One
  34. Chapter Thirty-Two
  35. Chapter Thirty-Three
  36. Chapter Thirty-Four
  37. Chapter Thirty-Five
  38. Chapter Thirty-Six
  39. Chapter Thirty-Seven
  40. Chapter Thirty-Eight
  41. Chapter Thirty-Nine
  42. Chapter Forty

Angrily, he paced over to the bunk and lay down, pulling the blankets over his head.  He felt too keyed up to sleep, too tired to remain awake.  There were pills he could take, he knew, but they tended to have unfortunate side-effects.  Instead, he closed his eyes and forced himself to mentally recite the regulations governing waste disposal on starships.  It was an old trick he’d learned at the Academy.  The tutors had sworn blind that it beat counting sheep.  Slowly, he fell asleep ...

And then the alarms went off.

Ted jerked out of bed as red lights flashed.  “Red Alert,” Fitzwilliam’s voice said.  “I say again, Red Alert.  This is not a drill.  All hands to battlestations.  Captain to the bridge.”

Cursing, his blood running cold, Ted keyed his bedside console.  “Report,” he snapped.  “What’s happening?”

“Incoming alien starfighters,” Fitzwilliam reported.  There was a grim note to his voice that belayed any hope that it might be a sadistic drill.  “We’re under attack!”

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

James had privately expected to run into trouble long before they reached New Russia.  The aliens weren't fools, whatever else could be said about them, and they would have to suspect that some kind of counter-attack would be mounted as soon as possible.  Indeed, given the care the aliens had taken in mounting their invasion, it was unlikely that they would fail to seal the backdoor.  Or, at least, to hide picket ships in human systems.

“I’m picking up forty-seven alien starfighters, advancing towards us on attack vector,” Farley reported.  “They’re not even trying to stealth themselves.”

“Maybe it’s a diversion,” James said.  Where was the Captain?  He’d said he was on his way.  “Launch all starfighters, then order four squadrons to remain close to the flotilla and provide cover.”

He looked up as the Captain strode onto the bridge.  The older man looked tired, but not drunk or zonked out of awareness.  James let out a sigh of relief he hadn't realised he was holding, then rose to his feet and surrendered the command chair to his commander.  The Captain took it, nodded to him and then checked the tactical display.  A second flight of alien starfighters was just coming into sensor range.

“Alter course,” the Captain ordered.  “Bring us about to face the threat, then launch a shell of recon drones.  I want to know where those starfighters came from.”

“They must have a carrier somewhere within the system,” James muttered.  “Unless they set up a hidden base.”

The Captain nodded.  “Seems an odd place to hide a carrier,” he said.  “Unless they saw us coming and deliberately set up an ambush.  Why not?  We did it to them earlier.”