Pa Kur had kept these creatures for years for just such an eventuality. Conditioning them to the correct pitch had been one of his chief assignments. It had been his task because of his keen understanding of subhuman psychology.

The former military colonists forced a shuttle door open.

Pa Kur unhooked the comm-unit, clicking a switch, timing them out of curiosity. He had a theory about their mental acuity. Ten minutes later, an upper hangar bay door began to open to the surface. Interesting. They had achieved the feat three minutes faster than he’d anticipated. It wouldn’t make a difference, though, not to what Stand had in mind.

***

Pa Kur settled into position, lying on his stomach aboard a single-ship. It was a tiny, needle-shaped spacecraft with an ability to fold space for extremely short distances. As impossible as it was to believe, the Commonwealth sub-men had invented the tech. The superior New Men Intelligence service had stolen the secret some time ago.

Pa Kur waited, clenching his stomach. Thirty seconds later, the booster rocket roared. The G forces pressed against Pa Kur as the rocket blasted into space at combat speeds.

The launch point was on the other side of the water moon as the approaching hammership. The few subhuman probes on this side had “malfunctioned” in such a way as to appear as an accident. Thus, the enemy did not know about the booster rockets. The escaping Palain shuttles were already on the other side of the water moon, no doubt hailing the hammership, begging for rescue.

Each booster held a Seven. A Seven was the New Men equivalent of a sub-men’s squad. In this instance, each Seven had his own single-ship. Seven boosters roared for space, meaning Pa Kur had forty-nine New Men for the coming attack, his entire sept.

Soon enough, the boosters reached space. Pa Kur pressed a switch. With the clank of detaching hooks, his single-ship floated free.

One by one, the empty rockets began to drift aimlessly, the nearest one tumbling end over end. Each Seven maneuvered around its leader. Finally, they sent pulse messages to Pa Kur. Everyone was ready.

Pa Kur led the seven Sevens around the upper curvature of the red water moon. Storms swirled below in a vast panorama. Maybe it was beautiful. Pa Kur had a difficult time with the concept. He continued to lie on his stomach, holding onto handlebars, using a throttle to adjust his velocity. The gas giant appeared, rising out of the horizon like a massive moon. The Jovian planet was deep blue in color. Several deuterium-processing stations still existed in the upper clouds, although they were less than pinpricks and thus invisible to the naked eye.

“Go dark,” Pa Kur said into the comm.

He released the throttle and tapped out a sequence on his board. His needlecraft no longer accelerated, but drifted with its momentum. He activated the mini cloaking device. It was his only defense against the mighty hammership.