Dauntless shook hard, another hit from the enemy primaries. Barron looked down at his screen, his eyes skimming the damage reports coming in. It had been surprisingly light, considering the quality of the enemy’s gunnery, but Barron knew his ship was fragile now, dozens of systems patched together in chaotic fashion. Any hit could be the one that crippled something vital. That lost the battle.

“Maximum fire, all batteries,” Darrow repeated the command. A few seconds later, Barron felt the vibrations under his feet, heard the telltale whine of Dauntless’s lasers.

Now, at least, it was a two-way fight. And he’d stack his gunners up against any that drew breath, vaunted Alliance warriors or not.

*   *   *

“Another hit, Commander. Battery seven is out of action.” A short pause. “It appears the entire crew was killed.”

Kat knew she wasn’t supposed to worry about casualties, only victory. But whoever had come up with that mantra either hadn’t led men and women into battle…or was a monster. The gunners in battery seven had been veterans from Vindictus, and they’d served with her for years. Now they were dead, probably blown to unrecognizable bits, if they hadn’t been outright incinerated.

“Carry on, Optiomagis.” It seemed like a lame response, but what else was there to say? The gunners of battery seven weren’t the last of her people who would die in this fight. The enemy’s lasers had opened fire, and half a dozen direct hits had slammed into Invictus. Her people had repaid the enemy in kind…no, they’d given more than they’d gotten. But the enemy gunners knew their business too, and with each hit, Invictus lost more power, more crew. She longed for a better strategy, something more elegant, less brutal and damaging. But there was nothing. Nothing but to continue to close.

“I want updated damage assessments. Full power to the scanners.”

“Yes, Commander.” Wentus leaned over the controls for a few seconds. “Commander, the scanner suite is badly damaged. Thirty percent is the best we can manage.”

“Then get me thirty percent…and do it now!”

She scolded herself for letting her tension show in her tone. She did want to know what damage the enemy ship had sustained from Invictus’s fire, but there was one thing in particular she was concerned about. The enemy’s main guns. Her engineers had assured her it was exceedingly unlikely the particle accelerators could be repaired so quickly in the field…or at all. But she wasn’t going to underestimate the ship and crew facing her. And the unintended consequence of the Alliance’s culture of superiority was doing just that. She’d learned that the hard way, but she doubted many of her people had. Not yet.

You would have fired those guns already if you had them, wouldn’t you?

Or are you holding back, waiting until we’re in point blank range?