But Admiral Stromo sent an all-fleet signal, countermanding her orders. “Mantas, Thunderheads, and Remoras—hold your fire!” He switched to a broadband channel. “Attention, hydrogues! I request an open dialogue with your commander.”

“As if that’ll do any good,” Tasia muttered. “They already blew up King Frederick. They don’t want to talk—they want us dead.”

Stromo waited a second, received no response. “Our mission is peaceful, intended only to acquire vital resources for the Terran Hanseatic League. We are mining in our home solar system. We mean no harm to any hydrogue. But we will not be denied the resources we need for our survival.”

The spiked warglobes climbed higher and moved toward the first Hansa ekti harvester. At the warglobe’s approach, the panicked cloud miners launched their lifepods, which sprayed outward like spores from a mushroom. Without transmitting a word of response to the Goliath, the deep-core aliens unleashed their crackling blue lightning. Hydrogue energy bolts ripped through the evacuated gas-harvesting facility, detonating the ekti reactors and stored fuel tanks. The explosion set up a chain reaction, ripping from module to module. No Roamer skymine could have been breached so easily, Tasia knew, but the end result would have been the same.

“That’s it!” she shouted in disgust. Not caring about insubordination, she turned to her weapons officers without waiting for orders from the astonished Admiral Stromo. “All jazer banks open fire. Target that damned warglobe.”

The hydrogues continued their destruction against the first cloud-harvester. A second warglobe fired on the Earth battleships. The EDF subcommanders screamed for orders, while some defended themselves. Admiral Stromo refused to respond.

Tasia stabbed her finger toward the screen. “Everybody on the same page, same bull’s-eye. Aim just below that spike there. Let’s not dilute our firepower. Now.”

With an angry whoop and snarled threats, the Thunderhead bridge crew fired lasers wrapped in sheaths of high-energy particles. Jazer bolts hammered into the foremost crystalline warglobe, scratching it, scarring it.

“Kinetic projectiles next! Shoot the railguns—a full volley. Aim for the same weak point we just hit with the jazers.”

Electromagnetic rails in the underdeck crackled, firing a pulsed salvo of solid projectiles made of superdense depleted uranium. Traveling at near-relativistic speeds, they slammed into the diamond hull, each one with the kinetic energy of a small nuclear warhead.

The other Thunderheads hesitated less than a second after Tasia gave her order to fire, while Stromo remained frozen and speechless. Full of new recruits who had never seen battle and nervous commanders with itchy trigger fingers, the EDF escort group retaliated when the hydrogues opened fire. Manta cruisers dove into the fray. Squadrons of Remoras shot out of their docking bays like a hail of huge bullets. Each fast fighter drove in, targeting the enemy warglobes with their smaller but more precise ship-to-ship defenses.