Barron wondered if the enemy ships would launch at long range, or if they’d risk running the gauntlet of Dauntless’s defensive fire to fire point blank shots.

His question was answered almost immediately. He saw three small dots move from the larger symbols representing the enemy bombers. Plasma torpedoes, heading straight for Dauntless.

His eyes stayed fixed, waiting for the enemy ships to change their thrust vectors, to pull off…but they didn’t. They just kept coming right at Dauntless.

“Incoming. All hands on alert.”

“Incoming. All hands on alert.” Darrow repeated the order into the shipwide com.

Barron watched the trajectories of the torpedoes. The defensive fire had hit one, leaving only two. But both of those had converted to plasma now, and they were heading right for Dauntless. There wasn’t time for evasive maneuvers, not now.

The massive ship shook once…then again few seconds later. Barron had his com unit in his hand even before the vibrations stopped. “Atara,” he snapped into the microphone. “Damage report…how bad?”

“Not too bad, Captain. It looks like we lost hull integrity in a big section of the cargo hold.”

Barron let out a loud exhale. If his ship had to get hit somewhere, that was where he wanted it.

“The other torpedo hit farther forward, but no damage to the reactors or power transmission systems…and none to primary or secondary weapons either.”

“That’s good news, Atara.” He let out a long sigh. If that’s all the enemy fighter attack accomplished, maybe his people did have a chance. “You and Fritzie…” His voice trailed off ominously, his eyes fixing on the main display. The enemy fighters still hadn’t pulled away…and now they were accelerating. Straight toward Dauntless.

Barron stared right at the display, his calm expression giving way to one of absolute horror.

“Captain?” There was concern in Travis’ voice. “Ty?”

Barron flipped his com to the shipwide channel. “All gunners…target those incoming fighters. At all costs.”

He saw the three fighters coming on, accelerating as they did. They were firing their lasers, but Barron wasn’t worried about that. It was the realization that these fighters were making suicide runs, that they were heading toward his ship at over a thousand kilometers a second, that made his blood run cold.

He saw one of them disappear, and he felt his hand clench, a silent salute to whichever of his gunnery teams had scored the hit. But the other two were still coming on.

“All stations, brace for impact!”

He felt his body tense, and then he saw another of the ships disappear. A second passed, perhaps two, time moving slowly, eerily. Then Dauntless shook. His gunners had taken the second fighter out too close. The debris smashed into the battleship, ripping through its armor and tearing great holes in the hull.