The Heral’c shifted vectors away from the inbound squadron, alarms still sounding regularly as it detected beams crossing space nearby. Senthe knew he wasn’t going to buy much time, but he’d take anything he could get.

The Heral’c suddenly shook, a hammer blow crashing through the decks of the ship with enough force that the crew members grabbed the closest objects to steady themselves.

“Hull breach! Decks eighteen through twenty-one!”

Senthe grimaced. That had to have been a direct strike, and the hit was earlier than he had expected. He’d bought less time than he’d hoped.

“Damage control is working on it,” Corva said. “Damage is extensive but—”

Another strike rumbled through the decks.

“You were about to say something?” Senthe asked wryly.

His second didn’t have a response, not that anything would have mattered.

“We’ve sustained damage to the drives, Captain. They’ll not hold stable for long now,” he said finally.

“Sound the order to abandon ship. They have our range,” Senthe said, gritting his teeth as a third rumble shook the deck.

“But—”

“Do it.”

“Yes Captain.” His second lowered his head, issuing the order.

►►►

► The Heral’c was losing air across more than a dozen decks, and her acceleration was dropping fast as lifeboats began launching from the big ship. Strewn across several light-seconds of space, the small pods oriented themselves and attempted to connect to the local relays to signal for help. When those signals were returned with no indication of aid, the lifeboats went into backup mode and sent a short-burst call for help using limited-duration tachyon transmitters.

Third Recon ignored the calls, being quite certain that there were no ships close enough to respond in time, and continued to close on the stricken Heral’c.

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 21

Odysseus Task Force

► Eric Weston burst onto the bridge of the Odysseus, still buttoning up his tunic. He’d barely managed three hours of sleep while the task force’s research teams scrambled to get all the details they could on the nearby alien megastructure.

“What is it?”

“An SOS call, Capitaine,” Milla responded, which was a little out of order since she was assigned to tactical operations.

Her accent was more pronounced than usual, Eric noticed. That tended to happen only when Milla was stressed.

Eric glanced at the displays. “Since there are no other ships near here, and you’d have told me if the call was from one of mine, I have to assume it’s a Priminae distress call. Lifeboat model, same as we picked you up in?”

“Yes, Capitaine . . . but not one. Many.”

“Many?” Eric blinked. “How many?”

Sams looked up. “Forty-three at last count. The frequency of new signals has begun to drop, but my guess, Captain, is that there will be sixty when it is all finished.”

“Sixty,” Eric said flatly. “That’s the number of lifeboats on a Priminae cruiser.”

“Yes sir.”

“Location?”