She watched as the unsuspecting corsairs ignited their engines and moved in toward their prey. Smiling, Lanyan opened the intercom channel to give orders to his soldiers. The General was too damned cocksure.

After the corsairs closed in on the Voracious Curiosity BeBob did his best to fly evasive maneuvers toward the safety net of Yreka stations, but the overloaded cargo ship was full of material to make up for what had not been delivered during the last scheduled run. BeBob’s moves were sluggish.

Rlinda knew her captain must even now be panicked, sweating and swearing. Branson Roberts was not simply acting as bait; he was genuinely trying to escape, but he had no chance against the corsairs. Her heart went out to him. “You’d better not blow this, General, or I’ll have your balls.”

“Thank you for the vote of confidence, madam,” he said, then shouted into the intercom, “All Remoras, launch! Manta cruisers, proceed forward. Engage the enemy.”

Even as the greedy corsairs surrounded the single merchant ship, the EDF battlefleet pounced upon them. The squadron of fast-attack Remoras lunged in, targeting the pirates’ unshielded engines. The corsairs were brave enough to face the minimal defensive capabilities of merchant ships, but they had no way of resisting the battle-ready Terran military force.

One of the small corsair ships broke away and tried to flee, accelerating so hard its white-hot engine cowlings began to vaporize into plasma, causing the pirate to veer off in an unstable flight path. With several jazer blasts, two Remoras destroyed the fleeing corsair before he could slip out of detector range.

Lanyan shouted into the ship-to-ship comm, “I want some alive. Don’t fry them unless you have no choice.”

A chorus of acknowledgments came over the speakers, and then the midsized Manta cruisers joined the fray. Flying fast, the Remoras opened fire with concentrated jazer pulses, and all hell broke loose.

Fed up with standing on the sidelines, Rlinda ran to the communications console and with one big shoulder knocked Lanyan out of the way. She adjusted the frequency to the Voracious Curiosity’s private channel. “BeBob, get your ass out of there! If I don’t see you moving out of the firing zone in five seconds, I’m going to come over there and do it myself.”

“Don’t need to tell me twice, Rlinda,” BeBob’s surprisingly firm voice answered, but she knew he was just putting on a brave mask. Branson Roberts could be cool in a crisis, but he was not a boulder-headed hero-in-training.

The Voracious Curiosity changed course to head down the Z-axis below Yreka’s ecliptic and away from the battle zone. Not a scratch from a stray blast or a ricochet. Rlinda breathed a sigh of relief, but told herself it was only because she wanted the Curiosity to be clean and undamaged for her upcoming trip to Theroc.

The Mantas crippled the pirate ships, and Remoras rounded up the vessels in short order. One EDF pilot scorched his hand when a control panel sparked out due to a malfunction that had been missed during the recent inspection overhaul. That man became Lanyan’s sole casualty.