Sun King (The Void Queen Trilogy Book 3) by Michael Wallace

Author:Michael Wallace [Wallace, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Balsalom Publishing
Published: 2017-02-02T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Tolvern returned to the bridge of Blackbeard to find the other officers dragging themselves in, as she’d left a skeleton crew in command so the rest could sleep. Oglethorpe gestured impatiently for an ensign to move out of his position at the tech console. Clyde eased into his seat with a groan.

The harvester was still pursuing them from Persia, joined by several lances. The lances were damaged and few in number, and didn’t concern her, but the harvester was more than she could handle. Not with the remnants of her fleet, battered after so many encounters with the enemy.

Memories from the most recent battle hung over her like a bad dream. Chief among them was the image of Stratsky making a suicide charge with his atomic payload.

You did that. You authorized that mission and sent Stratsky in to die.

Tolvern had had no choice. It was the only way to get through with a nuclear torpedo, her one hope of bringing down the space elevator. But it had failed. The elevator was damaged, but not destroyed, and more harvesters would soon rise into orbit.

Even more harrowing was the memory of HMS Champion caught in the jaws of the harvester while screams for help came over the com. Tolvern had made the call to abandon Champion and her crew to their fate. Again, what else could she have done?

Tolvern had lost so many warships in the battle that to attempt to free the cruiser would have been futile, would have led to the deaths of hundreds more men and women. She’d used Champion’s death as a distraction to make her escape.

Only now, waiting for information about the new ships reported by the excitable young ensign, she worried that it would all amount to nothing. She’d be caught and killed anyway, long before she could escape the death trap known as the Persia System.

Manx entered the bridge carrying two huge mugs of steaming tea, one of which he gave to Tolvern, who took it gratefully.

“Thought you could use some waking up, Captain.”

“Thanks, it’s a start.”

“I’m afraid this will wake you up more,” Oglethorpe said from the tech console.

He cleared the viewscreen of the harvester, and showed a number of shadowy forms approaching from the outer rim of the system.

“They’re still cloaked,” Tolvern said. “What are we looking at?”

“Can’t see what they are, sir, not unless we stop the junks and let them spread their wings.” Oglethorpe paused. “But I count twenty ships, sir.”

Tolvern licked her lips. Twenty. The math was almost too simple.

“Four hunter-killer packs, is that what you’re saying?”

“Sixteen smaller ships and four larger ones. It matches. Sixteen lances and four spears.”

Four hunter-killers, blast it. One pack she could sweep through with no problem. Two, probably. Three would force her to slow and fight. Four hunter-killer packs was a match for her weakened fleet. And while she fought them, the harvester would close and finish matters.

“How long have we got?” This question was directed to Clyde, the pilot.

“About an hour.”

Tolvern cursed.

“And the harvester is only ninety-eight minutes behind us,” he added.

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