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a nasty grin formed on Nishimura’s face. I’m done screwing around with these bastards. “Full auto, Marines. Waste ’em all!”

As one, the platoon opened up. The roar of a dozen battle rifles spewing bullets at the rate of six hundred per second filled the air. Even through the built-in atmospheric filters of the power armor, the unmistakable smell of propellent was almost overpowering. Return fire was nonexistent, and several defenders collapsed into the passageway. The spreading pools of blood around their bodies left no doubt as to whether they were alive or dead.

Nishimura took in the scene and noted the dozens of little holes in the walls of the passageway where the AP rounds had penetrated. I guess they don’t armor the insides of their ships like the exterior. He smirked. Too bad for them.

“Bulkhead’s sealed beyond this junction, sir,” a private called through the commlink. “Should we blow it?”

“Negative. We’ll use the new toy we got from CIS. The plasma cannon. Heat it up and burn through.”

“Yes, sir.”

Hide all you want. We’re coming for you. Nishimura stared at the obstacle. I should probably switch back to stun rounds. He pondered the thought for a moment. Nah. We’ll wait till we’re outside their control center. I’m not taking any more chances with my Marines’ lives.

On the bridge of the Greengold, Tehrani surveyed the situation. So far, the CDF forces had acquitted themselves well against the pirates. It helped to be prepared and have the element of surprise on their side for once. Blue light bathed the faces of the crew, making it difficult to make out who was who.

“Conn, TAO. Master Two coming about, ma’am. She’s on a direct intercept course with Sierra One.”

“Farnborough has taken significant shield damage,” Wright interjected. He gestured to a sensor readout on his screen. “Master Two is concentrating its attack on her weakened port quarter.”

While the Q-ship had outstanding deflectors for its size, there simply wasn’t the same armor on her as a military vessel would have.

“We need to end this,” Tehrani replied. Fear of the converted carrier making an appearance at any moment nagged at the back of her mind.

“I can’t believe how much punishment these little gunboats are taking. They’ve got to have destroyer-strength shield generators on them.”

Tehrani glanced at her XO. “Let’s see how they respond to our primary armament.” She set her jaw and turned toward the front of the bridge. “TAO, firing point procedures, forward neutron beams, Master Two. Remember, aim to disable.”

“Firing solutions set, ma’am.”

“Match bearings, shoot, forward neutron beams.”

Once again, the blue spears of energy erupted from the bow of the Greengold and crossed the distance between them and the pirate corvette at the speed of light. The concentrated energy of the beams lashed at the protective screens of the enemy, weakening them with every nanosecond. Return fire from the pirate vessel was aimed at the Farnborough as they continued to hammer away at the weakened shields on the Q-ship.

“Conn, TAO. Shield failure imminent on Master Two.”

“Remember, Lieutenant, disa—”

Bright-white light flashed. Even with the filters built into the bridge’s windows, it momentarily blinded most of the present crew.

After a few seconds, Bryan turned in his seat. “Conn, TAO. Master Two destroyed, ma’am.” His lips held the outline of a sheepish grin. “I think we got their reactor by accident.”

Tehrani closed her eyes briefly. By Allah, we needed those prisoners. Destroyed ships get us no closer to unraveling this mystery. The one disabled corvette will have to be enough. She forced a neutral expression to her face. “As you were, Lieutenant. Navigation, bring us alongside Master One.”

Wright leaned closer. “You thinking what I’m thinking, Skipper?”

“Any moment, we’re going to be jumped by their converted freighter and have our hands full and more.”

“Yeah, that about sums it up.”

“I have no intention of tangling with that thing with just our two vessels.” A pity we had to keep up our spread-out deployment to sell this ruse.

“Major Nishimura needs to hurry it up, in that case.”

“Agreed.” Tehrani directed her gaze toward the tactical plot and willed the tough Marine forward, as if that would do anything to help their situation.

11

Yiorgos Samaras sat in nearly total darkness broken only by a few dim lights from a couple of consoles that still functioned. His ship, the Panthir, was disabled and beyond any chance of quick repair. He’d held out hope the engineering teams could restore the jump drives for a retreat, but that would clearly take hours. Assigned the command only a few weeks prior, Samaras found it especially biting that he’d been taken in by a Coalition Defense Force vessel of some sort.

I have to give it to them. Up-gunning a freighter and outfitting it as a lure isn’t something I would’ve thought of. With the Delfin destroyed and their fighters being steadily ground down by the Terrans, he had little left to do except carry out his final orders from Sokratis Papoutsis. The benefactors who’d gifted their merry little band so many ships and weapons had only one overriding rule: no one was to be taken alive.

If the ship weren’t riddled with holes and the power barely functional, Samaras had a button built into his chair that could be used to trigger a reactor overload on short notice. However, it wasn’t working—he’d already tried. He could always abandon his promise and surrender to the CDF. Even if I turned on my brothers and sisters, they’d still put me in prison for life. I’d rather die than spend the rest of my days in a two-meter-by-three-meter cell, never seeing the sun. The Terrans had a reputation for dealing harshly with murderers. What do they call it? Lambert’s Lament. The asteroid prison was supposed to be worse than death. Samaras refused to end up there.

Besides that, he had a family—no wife or children but a mother and two siblings. Their benefactors had clearly stated that anyone who didn’t adhere to the rules would have to live with their families being

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