That was no chance shot at our engines…he wanted time, and that’s what he got for himself.

Her respect for her adversary grew, and her urgency to finish the battle as quickly as possible, while she still had the edge.

Before he gets the better of me and turns the tables…

“Eighteen hours, Optiomagis. You will get the engines back online within eighteen hours, no matter what you have to do.”

“Commander…”

“Eighteen hours,” she repeated, her voice like ice. “You may have any resources you require, but not a minute longer.”

“Yes, Commander.” He tried to sound confident, but Kat could see right through it. Cinatus was one of the best engineers in the Alliance service, but what was possible was possible, and what wasn’t…wasn’t. For all the sternness of her eighteen-hour command, she figured the odds Cinatus would meet the deadline were right around 50/50.

She looked out at the display, staring at the symbol representing the enemy vessel. She wanted to believe she had the advantage in terms of repairs and engineering…after all, she had the pick of the Alliance navy on Invictus. Surely her people would complete repairs more quickly than the enemy. Yet, something nagged at her. This was no ordinary captain she was facing. Could she afford to assume it was an ordinary crew?

*   *   *

“All right, we—I—have a decision to make, and I want your input.” Barron sat at the head of the long table. Dauntless’s conference room was right next to the bridge, and Barron had gathered his senior officers to assess the situation. All except Commander Fritz. Perhaps more than anyone—including the captain himself—she held their fates in her hands, and he wasn’t about to pull her away from her repair efforts.

The conference room showed little sign of the damage he knew was all over his ship, but there was a sharp odor in the air, some kind of burning smell being spread by the life support systems. He didn’t know exactly what was causing it, but the AI had classified it as insufficiently dangerous to warrant attention now. Barron had found that phrasing less than reassuring, but he had to agree that there were other priorities.

“We fight. What else can we do?” Commander Jamison sat at the opposite end of the table, providing just the sort of aggressive advice Barron expected from the leader of his fighter squadrons. What was left of his fighter squadrons.

“We can withdraw, pull back to Archellia and mass whatever forces we can gather to mount a defense.” Part of Barron detested himself for even suggesting a retreat, but he had more responsibilities than his own honor, even than protecting the Barron name. Dauntless was the only defense to speak of for an entire sector.

“Captain…” Jamison’s voice trailed off. “Yes, of course, sir.”