The actual physical damage was probably minimal. Even the incredibly strong acid that breachers were loaded with could penetrate only so deep into a warship’s hull, and the lateral spread of a single missile’s worth was only so great. Electronics, sensors, and weapons systems would be damaged, but that damage would be fairly localized.

But the psychological effect more than made up for it. All four Lioaoin ships lurched violently, breaking formation. A second later the moment of instinctive panic seemed to subside, and the captains began systematically rotating away from the Chiss ships, trying to turn their new points of vulnerability out of the reach of enemy lasers.

They had each managed about a forty-degree turn when the Vigilant’s lasers flashed out.

And the second shuttle—the dark, silent, cold, all-but-undetectable second shuttle that had been towed invisibly behind the first—shattered and sent its own cargo of breacher missiles into the reeling Lioaoin warships.

“Lioaoin Regime, I’m still waiting for that explanation,” Ar’alani’s voice came over the speaker. “Perhaps you should start with an apology, and we’ll go from there.”

“Lioaoin ships falling back,” Dalvu reported. “Two other ships rising from defense orbit.”

“Admiral?” Thrawn asked.

“Apparently, they’re not yet ready to concede,” Ar’alani said, her voice icy. “Fine. We’re here to deliver a message. Let’s deliver it.”

“Acknowledged,” Thrawn said. “Springhawk: Prepare for battle.”

There was a soft double-thump from somewhere nearby. Che’ri, sitting in her chair pretending to draw, gave a violent jerk. “What was that?” she whispered.

“It’s okay,” Thalias said from the couch facing Che’ri’s chair, where she’d been pretending to read. “Probably just some stray shrapnel from a missile our lasers destroyed.”

“What about the acid?” Che’ri asked, peering at the upper corner of the suite.

“There isn’t any,” Thalias said, sternly ordering her own heart to calm down. “We’re the only ones who use breacher missiles with acid. Everyone else uses explosives. Once our lasers destroy or detonate them, there’s nothing that keeps coming toward us.” There was another set of thumps, six of them this time. “Except maybe a few small leftover pieces of the missile,” she amended.

“What happens if the pieces get through?”

“They won’t,” Thalias assured her. “The electrostatic barrier can slow them down a little, but more important is that the Springhawk has really good, thick armor.”

“Okay,” Che’ri said. But it was clear from her anxious expression that she wasn’t really satisfied. “How come nobody else uses acid?”

“I don’t know,” Thalias said. “I suppose it’s not as impressive as explosives. Probably harder to make the missiles work, too.”

“How come we do?”