She knew all about the reports the intelligence types had generated. But she also knew that the data on which those reports were based had come solely from the civilian-grade sensors of merchantmen passing through the system. It wouldn’t have been hard for any navy, and especially not for one with the Manties’ EW capabilities, to hide an entire fleet from a merchie’s sensor suite, and de Groot had been privately certain that that must be what had happened.

It seemed she’d been wrong.

Her own recon drones were twelve million klicks—over forty light-seconds—ahead of her screen, with a secondary shell thrown out to cover her flanks and rear. While she was always prepared to recognize the Manticorans’ supremacy in the field of electronic warfare, she found it difficult to believe that she wouldn’t have gotten at least a sniff of any heavy units closing to missile range of her own command. Of course, there was missile range, and then there was missile range. Judging from their performance immediately before the cease-fire, Manty multi-drive missiles had a powered attack range of somewhere around sixty-five million klicks, which was at least eight million more than the RHN’s new weapons could manage. But not even Manties were going to score many hits against alert targets at ranges of better than three and a half light-minutes. To be effective, they were going to have to come a lot closer than that, and her platforms should have started getting a sniff of them well before they got within five light-minutes of the outer shell, much less her actual starships.

A part of her still insisted that they had to be out there somewhere, but she told herself that was just the last gasp effort of her own paranoia. If they’d really had heavy ships, those vessels would be where her drones could see them. They’d have to be if they were going to offer any support at all to the two hundred and eleven LACs sweeping to meet her.

And if the Manties really hadn’t shot themselves in both feet and one kneecap where their readiness states and training are concerned, she thought with grim satisfaction, those LACs would be doing something a hell of a lot smarter than what they’re doing now.

She supposed whoever was in command over there was being brave enough, but Lord God was she stupid! What NavInt’s estimates insisted was the entire LAC strength based on the system, allowing for four or five down for routine maintenance, was coming straight at the invaders with absolutely no attempt to maneuver for advantage. It looked like the Manty CO intended to charge straight down de Groot’s throat, possibly in an effort to avoid the Republican broadsides and sidewalls. Of course, that would also expose her LACs to the fire of de Groot’s entire squadron’s chase armament as she closed, but maybe she figured she could survive that long enough to get into range. If so, she was an idiot… or even more unaware of the improvements in the Republic’s naval hardware—including the new classes’ bow walls—than de Groot would have believed was possible.