Funeral Games: Far Stars Book Three (Far Star Trilogy) by Jay Allan

Author:Jay Allan [Allan, Jay]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2016-01-19T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 19

“TRANSITIONING TO NORMAL SPACE IN TWO MINUTES. ALL VESSELS lock onto my nav data and stay tight on our signal.” Lucas’s voice was hoarse, fatigued. The voyage had been hard on them all. Saragossa to Celtiboria was an enormous trip for a single jump, but Blackhawk had insisted. He had no idea what was happening on Celtiboria, but he knew Astra was in Carteria’s clutches.

And that was all he needed to know.

The trip had been interminable. The Claw was capable of blasting through the alien dimension at an enormous velocity, but now she was leading over a hundred civilian freighters and liners, ships that couldn’t have hoped to complete such a long jump without being tied into the Claw’s data net. But even Lucas’s expert guidance couldn’t make the old rust buckets any faster. He’d pushed them as hard as he could, but they were still slow.

“Very well, Lucas. Bring us in as close as you can. We need to get on the ground as quickly as possible.” None of them had any idea what to expect around Celtiboria. They had an Antillean naval squadron with them, but if Admiral Desaix—or enough of his ships—had declared for Carteria, Commodore Hammerleigh’s dozen Antillean frigates weren’t going to have much of a chance.

“I’ll do my best, Ark, but these tubs are a bunch of pigs. I could get the Claw practically in orbit on transit, at least with a reasonable risk factor, but if I come in too tight, half these freighters will end up getting torn apart by the grav fields around the planet.”

“And if we don’t come in close, we risk getting blasted apart on the approach. It’s dangerous either way, Lucas. Bring us in tight . . . even if we lose a few freighters.”

Lucas stared back across the bridge. “Yes, sir,” he replied, holding his gaze for a few more seconds. Blackhawk could guess about Lucas’s concern, but that’s because the young pilot had never had to dismiss six hundred potentially preventable deaths as inconsequential.

That’s because you’ve never met General Umbra, Lucas.

You have now.

“Attention, all vessels. We will be executing a precision transit, entering normal space far closer to the planet than any of you are used to. It is essential that you follow on my mark, and utilize the exact nav data I am transmitting. There is no room for error.” Great, Lucas . . . scare the shit out of them. That will help. Maybe you should just ask if any of them can become better pilots in the next half minute or so.

But he had to admit Lucas had gotten their attention. A trip this long through hyperspace played havoc with attentiveness and efficiency. The alien space affected people in different ways, but all of it was counterproductive to executing precision maneuvers. And that was just what Lucas was demanding of them all.

Maybe he understands command better than I give him credit for.

“Transit in fifteen seconds . . .”

“I have ships emerging from hyperspace, sir.

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