By Blood Alone by William C. Dietz

Author:William C. Dietz [Dietz, William C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780441006311
Publisher: Ace
Published: 1999-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Tyspin took one last look around. In spite of the fact that the bridge crew was composed entirely of humans, the loose, nearly transparent folds of their emergency pressure suits made them look alien.

Everything that could be nailed down had been nailed down in case the argrav failed. Engineering had assured her that all systems were good to go, damage control was on standby, and, with the exception of missile launcher P3, which needed parts, the ship's weapons were on-line. Some of the would-be mutineers had been reintegrated into the crew; others remained under lock and key.

Tyspin stared into the battle tank that separated the command chair from the control consoles. Earth looked much as she would if viewed from one of forward ports. An enormous blue-green globe, mottled with brown and capped with white. The moon huddled beyond, while all sorts of space habs, ships, and satellites orbited.

The latter came in two colors--red for the muties, or those objects that might be mutie, and blue, as in true blue, for loyalist assets.

The number of red symbols was roughly equal to the number of blue symbols, which, in the absence of active leadership, had resulted in defensive clustering.

It was almost as if the mutie ships didn't want to fight, or thought they wouldn't have to . . . which made Tyspin wonder what they knew that she didn't. Had some sort of deal been struck with the Confederacy? Where were the worthless bastards, anyway?

Lieutenant Rawlings put an end to her mental meanderings. "All units report battle readiness, ma'am."

Tyspin nodded, fought the urge to clutch the arms of her chair, and gave the necessary order. "Phase one ... execute."

It seemed as though the words were barely out of the officer's mouth when the tiny red dots started to vanish off the display.

Those located nearest the loyalist ships were destroyed first, followed by mid-range targets, and a few on the far side of the planet. Spy sats mostly, mined by tiny self-propelled robots and rigged to blow.

The response was a little slower than Tyspin had expected. Were the muties napping? Or was their chain of command subject to the same sort of vacillation that hers was? They had all come up through the same system--so the question was stupid.

The naval officer shrugged, ordered her ships to attack, and said a little prayer. It was silent, but Rawlings read her lips. The "amen" was hers.

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