“Very well. Tell your pilots they have my compliments and thanks for the save,” she said. “Gracen out.”

The admiral considered something for a moment, then stood up. “Ithan Chans . . .”

“Yes Admiral?” the Priminae woman asked.

“How are our munition stocks looking?”

“We are low, Admiral. Transition shells are at twenty percent or less across all ships,” Milla said. “If they had many more ships, it would have been very close.”

Gracen nodded. “Understood. Thank you.”

Mentally she was tallying what she knew was in the system when she was forced to flee and comparing it to the kill rate. They didn’t have an exact count, but she knew that between Captain Sun and Weston, and with the help of Carrow, the initial force of thousands had been devastated, leaving only a few hundred to take control of what they’d won.

They had now accounted for nearly five hundred more of the enemy ships, so while there could be some stragglers about in the system . . . Almost certainly are, actually . . . they should have eliminated the bulk of the enemy force.

Her task force was a little beat up. They’d lost some people and had a few holes poked in their armor, but they were intact. The Priminae systems, combined with the Terran systems, were an incredible combination of power and sophistication.

The lab boys are going to be working overtime trying to find a way to block the waveguide cannons. Those things are just monstrous.

“Course charted and coded, ma’am. We’re en route for Earth orbit.”

“Alright,” Gracen said firmly. “Good. We’re not done here yet. Alert Colonel Reed and have his boys suit up. I have a bad feeling about what’s going on back home.”

“Aye ma’am,” Susan said. “Reed reports that his teams are ready to deploy just as soon as we get there.”

“Then by all means. Commander Michaels?”

“Yes ma’am?”

“Don’t spare the engines.”

“Aye aye, Admiral. Maximum acceleration engaged,” Steph said. “We’ll have to do some fancy braking moves when we get there though.”

“Is that a problem for you flyboys?”

The former fighter pilot just laughed. “Not even a bit of one.”

“Good.”

The Heroics, led by the Odysseus, warped space hard as they plummeted toward Earth.

Commander William Briggs grinned as he poured on the thrust, leading Alpha Flight as they plunged toward the array of red icons spattered across their HUDs. The enemy fighter drones were closing on Bravo Flight, and would be able to engage them before they made it back into the security zone of the Enterprise. It was his and Alpha Flight’s job to ensure that the Drasin didn’t get a chance to do much damage when that happened.

“Spread out. Watch for energy leaking off their beams,” he ordered. “The fighters aren’t as powerful as the big ships, but their lasers are still bloody obscene.”