“Sir, we have a signal coming in from the Archangels!”

“Tell them to hold on that for a moment and clear away from the alien ship. Target that ship with all weapons. Fire at will.”

The barrage of cover fire the Archangels had provided for Flare had deteriorated into a vengeful blaze that swept alien fighter craft from existence. A blaze that Stephanos found himself angrily reluctant to end, but as ordered, he signaled the others.

“All Archangels, break off. Full burn. We have to get clear so the Odyssey can use the pulse torpedoes.” Stephanos was angry, but he was still a military man, and the best path to victory was following orders.

Not exacting revenge.

And the Archangels, in turn, were all soldiers.

They broke off.

Not happily, nor enthusiastically, but they broke off.

As the Archangels swept past the Drasin vessel, putting the enemy between them and the Odyssey, the guns of the Earth vessel opened up. Blindingly fast bursts of pure white light marked the passage of the Odyssey’s pulse torpedoes, almost impossible to follow with the human eye. Yet, even before those lethal pulses left their firing tubes, white-hot holes were already appearing in the alien hull as invisible radiation from the Odyssey’s primary laser array poured a hellish heat into the Drasin vessel.

Milla stared in shock at the screen as the Drasin ship was dismantled in a manner of seconds, its hull reduced to a handful of fused slices of unrecognizable material. The remaining fighters were mopped up by a combination of the Archangels’ precision maneuvers and the judicious application of the Odyssey’s pinpoint defense systems.

In one furious moment, the Odyssey had managed what her own people had failed to do in hours of battle.

Ithan Milla Chans of the Colonial Navy felt a numb shock spread through her as she looked to the screens and slumped into her seat.

And then it was over.

Captain Weston thumbed a command when it became obvious that the battle had ended. “Shuttles Three and Four, prep for SAR and salvage operations. Shuttle One will prep for planetary SAR.” Weston turned to look at his first officer. “Mr. Roberts, have Major Brinks prepare the planetary expedition. Inform him that I want him to take a full Special Forces contingent and whatever else he thinks he might need.”

Commander Roberts snapped to attention. “Yes, sir.” On his way out, he noticed Milla. “Sir, permission to bring our guest along? She could be helpful if they find any survivors.”

Weston looked at Milla, judging the look on her face and the tense nod she sent in his direction. “Granted. Be careful.”

“Yes, sir.” Roberts motioned Milla off the bridge. “This way, miss.”

“Commander,” Weston said.

“Yes, sir?”

“Have two carnivore drones included in the shuttle payload,” Weston ordered.

Roberts nodded. “Aye, sir.”

Weston turned back to the staff. “Someone dig out those sensor records and get the labs to figure out what the hell we just got hit with!”