“Captain, there is a ship on the extreme long-range scanners. It matches the historical configuration for a Drasin vessel.”

“Full alert! Tell all ships target has been spotted. Adjust course by”—Tal glanced down at his displays—“point-two-three-by-eight degrees.”

“All ships confirm. We are moving in an interception vector.”

For the next three hours, the tension on the bridge built to the point where Milla entertained the notion that the friction from it would make walking across the bridge feel like moving through water. Then it was cut. They had caught up to the Drasin vessel. It was a mottled brown-and-black mass that resembled a seedpod more than anything else. Ugly bulges along its hull spoke of weapons ports or something worse. The alien vessel filled their screens as they approached, no longer in any hurry to escape.

It was turning as they approached, their energy fields blazing at maximum intensity.

“Hail them.”

Milla turned to look at the captain in shock. These creatures had just wiped out an entire colony system, and he was going to talk? Stunned, she sat there listening to the conversation going on behind her.

“No answer, Captain.”

Of course they’re not. They’re butchers, Milla thought in derision. She wouldn’t let it reach her voice, but she couldn’t help feeling something she’d never felt before.

Hate.

“Tell the other vessels to spread out.”

“Yes, sir.”

The Drasin vessel floated serenely in space—or as serenely as anything that ugly could be—before firing an energy bolt that rocked the Carlache.

The bridge was a furor of activity—at least half of it unnecessary. People yelled, people prayed, and some just stared with open-mouthed wonder.

“They’re firing at us!”

No kidding. Milla’s fingers played across her panel, her sarcastic thoughts echoing in the back of her mind. “Weapons are primed, Captain.”

The captain’s hesitation was palpable, and the ship rocked under a new assault. “Fire. All ships, open fire.”

Outside, the area glittered with the fire exchanges; every ship in the impromptu fleet joined the Carlache in focusing on the unmoving Drasin vessel. For a brief moment, the vessel was clouded in the deadly hail, then the debris cleared and the Drasin vessel turned on the Carlache and fired again as it passed. The Carlache rocked under the barrage, but defenses held as the Drasin’s weapons raked along the other ships in the fleet.

“No damage, Captain!” someone yelled.

The captain turned on Milla’s position. “What’s wrong?”

Milla shook her head, her hair cascading around her face. The frustration was evident on her face as she glared at the console and tried to wring some sense out of it. “I don’t know, Captain. The systems are working fine. They should have had some effect.”

“Well, they don’t, Lieutenant! Find out why!” Tal snapped, his voice brittle with tension.

“Yes, sir.” Milla was in a state of near panic as she frantically examined the logged readings taken during the assault.

She removed several safety systems, throwing more power through them than the official capacity was registered at. It was the only thing she could think of at the moment, and she prayed that it was enough.