He shook his head, not meaning that it wasn’t. Meaning not now. He knew she understood.
Alex went up to the flight deck, his rifle still bouncing against his shoulder. “I’m taking the stick,” he shouted down moments later.
“Copy that,” Naomi replied. “I’m fire control.” The screen before her shifted to status readouts on the ship’s guns—PDCs, torpedoes, the keel-mounted rail gun. Jim pulled up tactical. On this screen an augmented map of Abbassia below them filled one side, a schematic of the nearby space of New Egypt system the other. And a sliver of red marked something the Roci’s threat detection thought he should be alarmed about. A stone in his chest, he selected it and pulled up the ship identification.
“We’ve got company,” Alex shouted from above.
“I’ve got them,” Jim answered.
Naomi’s voice was sharp and matter-of-fact the way it always was in the teeth of crisis. “Is it a Storm?”
Jim looked at the analysis. Now that there was only one Magnetar-class ship left, stuck in Laconia guarding their homeworld, the Storm-class destroyers were the backbone of Laconian power. And even one would be more than a match for the Roci. But this was smaller, with a squat, broad design, and a drive cone that promised it was built for speed.
“No,” he said. “Smaller. Maybe an explorer. I don’t know.”
“Well, it’s coming our way,” Alex said. “And it looks pissed.”
“Can we keep the planet between us and them?”
“If I put us in a low, fast orbit, maybe for a little while. Long term? No.”
“Give me a little while, then.”
Naomi didn’t speak, but she cycled through the PDC status checks. If it was a shooting war, they’d be as ready as a lone ship could be. Jim’s first impulse was to turn their back to the sun and burn as hard as they could stand it toward the ring gate and out of the system.
It wouldn’t work. The Laconian ship was made to be faster. And if they wanted Teresa, their best move was to punch a hole in the Roci’s drive cone and force a shutdown, then board and take her at their leisure. Turning tail and running would just make the shot easier. The alternative was to make it hard.
He closed his eyes. There was only one next step that he could think of, and he hated it. His mind shifted and slipped, looking for a better idea.
“Uh, Jim?” Alex said. “Your while’s about up. What’s the play?”
Fuck, he thought. “Keep our nose pointed at them. Make it so they have to put a hole through every deck in the ship to hit the drive.”
Naomi and Alex were silent for a moment, then Alex said, “I’m on it.”
The distant sound of the thrusters was totally different from the earlier roar. The shift of the crash couch felt almost gentle.
Naomi nodded, and checked power status on the rail gun. “Funny. You were saying before that the human shield thing made you uncomfortable.”
“I’ve moved past uncomfortable to furious.”
She nodded her agreement, then the screen lit up as the tightbeam request was accepted. A man’s face appeared on the screen: broad, with round cheeks, dark skin, and a full and well-groomed mustache. He was wearing the blue uniform of Laconia with a captain’s rank. He nodded at the camera, as calm as if they were in line together at the commissary.
“Captain Holden. I am Captain Noel Mugabo of the Sparrowhawk. Please return to the planet surface. I mean you and your crew no harm.”
“You people just put a bullet through my mechanic,” Jim said, and Naomi stiffened.
“And you killed four Laconian Marines,” the captain said. “I am here to help us both deescalate. My orders are to keep you here. We need Teresa Duarte’s assistance, and for that, she must come with us. We will not hurt her, nor will we detain you.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Your doubt doesn’t change our situation.” Jim noticed the way the man said our situation. Building rapport. Making it harder to pull the trigger, but also not backing down a centimeter. He’d had conversations like this as a prisoner on Laconia. “Please return to the planet’s surface, and we will take care of all this without any more violence.”
His crash couch put up a low-grade medical alert. His blood pressure and heart rate were concerning. Not dangerous, but not not-dangerous. He turned off the alerts.
“No,” Jim said. “I think we both know that’s not going to happen.”
Alex called down from the flight deck. “They’re getting closer. Want me to break orbit?”