“Nassau, belay that. Come about and prepare the flight deck for inbound traffic. This is the CAG, Manitoba.”
I check my tactical display for the source of the new transmission, and see a formation of four drop ships climbing out of Sirius Ad’s atmosphere. The lead ship bears the designations CAG and CO 4/5 RGT—Commander Air Group and Commanding Officer, Fourth Regiment. The first boat in the formation has both the Manitoba’s air group commander and our infantry regiment’s commanding officer on board, two of the highest-ranking people in our task force. I want to hold my breath to stop any extraneous sounds, so I won’t miss a word of the new message traffic.
“CAG Manitoba, Nassau. We are unable to reverse course. We’re forty-five minutes from transition.”
“Nassau, CAG Manitoba. I see you on the plot, fella. Decelerate and loiter by the transition point. I have a four-ship flight stuffed with troops here. We can pick up Tailpipe Five and his entourage on the way, and catch up with you in four hours.”
“Sir, there’s a Lanky seed ship on our tail, in case you aren’t up on current events.”
“I can read a plot. The Lanky isn’t accelerating anymore. We can dogleg it around their position. Why am I even talking to you? Get me Nassau Actual, right fucking now.”
There’s a ten-second silence in the channel, and a new voice comes on.
“CAG, this is Nassau Actual.”
“Lieutenant Colonel Carignan, I’d very much appreciate it if you’d decelerate and give us time to catch up.”
“Pete, you’re asking me to risk my ship here. Did you see what happened to the Manitoba? I have no desire to add us to the casualty list.”
“The Lanky is on a reverse course, and nowhere near you. Wait near the transition point, and if that seed ship moves in against you, get out and leave. Otherwise, let us try and sneak around the Lankies and over to you. I have a hundred people on these ships, and you’re the only unit left that can make Alcubierre.”
The Nassau’s captain lets another ten seconds elapse before he responds to the request.
“Colonel, I can’t do that. My first responsibility is my crew.”
“Okay, then,” the CAG says, and his voice is flat with anger. “Let me rephrase that request. We have four Dragonflies here, and a total of sixteen standoff nukes between us. Do as I suggest and decelerate to wait for us, or I’ll launch every last fucking missile I have. They may not catch up with you in time, but that’s your bet to lose, mister. Those nukes do fifty gees sustained acceleration, and that old bucket of yours makes a fat target.”
I can barely suppress a laugh into the shocked silence that follows the CAG’s threat. Colonel Barrett, the commander of the Manitoba’s air group, has a reputation for abrasiveness, and it seems that the prospect of being abandoned in a Lanky-controlled system has excised whatever sense of diplomacy he had. I have no idea if the CAG is merely bluffing, but I sincerely hope that he isn’t. The long-range standoff nukes on the Dragonflies are not really meant for antiship use, and the point defenses of a carrier would intercept them long before they got into range to do harm, but the Nassau is just an old frigate, and sixteen half-megaton warheads would saturate her point-defense system.
“You’re threatening to shoot nukes at my ship? Are you out of your fucking mind? You know I’ll have you locked up and court-martialed,” the Nassau’s captain finally replies. He sounds every bit as pissed as the CAG now.
“Yeah, we’ll worry about that shit later,” Colonel Barrett sends back.
“You have four hours,” Nassau Actual says. “We’re decelerating. If you’re not in the docking clamp by then, we transition out. If the Lanky starts moving our way, we transition out without you. Understood?”
“Good enough. CAG out.”
Nassau’s captain does not bother to send a final end-of-transmission phrase.
In the darkness of our shattered drop-ship hull, I let out an exuberant cheer.