However, neither did he have any liking for an unidentified ship holding high orbit over his world.

Especially not one that was capable of defeating a Drasin cruiser in a close-range exchange.

Unfortunately, he found himself in a situation where he had little control, and less choice, over such things.

For the moment.

Tanner looked at the threat board for a moment and ducked his head to look at a different display.

Soon.

Very soon.

A body floated past the crewman as he pulled open the hatch to the forward laser-control room, limbs floating freely as the iced eyes stared sightlessly.

“Oh fuck!” The crewman fell back, gagging in his helmet as he tried to keep from vomiting, more from the shock than anything else.

This time Chief Petty Officer Corrin didn’t say anything to reprimand him. She just moved forward and dragged the body out of the way.

“This is why pressure suits are required during alerts,” she growled over the tac-net, turning the body over and shoving it unceremoniously into another room. “And they don’t do you any fuckin’ good if you don’t seal the helmet. Now find that fuckin’ breach.”

The men nodded, swimming forward, eyeing the debris path.

Anything that hadn’t been locked down had been torn up by the decompression, throwing papers and smaller items through the rushing air and right to the source of the breach.

Of course, as it turned out, it wouldn’t have been all that hard to find, anyway.

Crewman Jacynck slid over to the four-foot hole burned through the hull, passing his safety line back to his closest companion, then slid out into the black. He looked up along the front of the heavily armored bow of the Odyssey, then twisted and looked back down.

“Well, Chief…” his voice came dryly back over the intercom, “I don’t think that we’re gonna be able to slap a quick patch on this and call it a day.”

Corrin snorted and waved to the other two. “Bring up the torch and start patching that up temporarily…I’ll tell DC the bad news.”

The Havoc missiles had just dropped from the internal pylons when Stephanos launched every countermeasure in his fighter’s stock.

Flares, dazzlers, EM screamers, and old-fashioned chaff erupted out from the fighter as the two missiles were briefly vulnerable to interception. This confused the Drasin’s sensors for a split second as the Havoc CM fields firmed up and their rocket motors kicked into full burn.

Both missiles slammed into the fighter two and a half seconds later, hitting like the hammer of God.

As the fighter vanished in a cloud of expanding debris, Stephanos pivoted his fighter in place and slammed the throttle forward as he sought out the next fur ball.

He was halfway there when his theory was proven beyond the shadow of a doubt.

Two previously competent, though predictable, pilots slammed into each other in the middle of a tight maneuver, their communication obviously cut by the loss of the flight leader. In a few moments, the remaining fighters were mopped up by the superior flying of the Archangels.