we

IDs by class. And if Commander Alvarez’s sensor crews were right, they were four light cruisers and six destroyers—more tonnage than the entire Grayson hyper-capable fleet.
A projected vector suddenly arced across the display, and Yanakov cursed beside him.
“What?” Courvosier asked quietly.
“They’re headed straight for Orbit Four, one of our belt mining processing nodes. Damn!”
“What have you got to stop them?”
“Not enough,” Yanakov said grimly. He glanced up. “Walt! How long till they hit Orbit Four?”
“Approximately sixty-eight minutes,” Commodore Brentworth replied.
“Anything we can intercept with?”
“Judah could reach them just short of the processors.” Brentworth’s voice was flat. “Nothing else could—not even a LAC.”
“That’s what I thought.” Yanakov’s shoulders slumped, and Courvosier understood perfectly. Sending a single destroyer out to meet that much firepower would be worse than pointless. “Signal Judah to stand clear of them,” the Grayson admiral sighed, “then get me a mike. Orbit Four’s on its own.” His lips twitched bitterly. “The least I can do is tell them myself.”
* * *
The holo sphere sparkled with individual lights and shifting patterns of information as Matthew Simonds stood in Thunder of God’s CIC. Captain Yu stood beside him, face relaxed and calm, and Simonds repressed a flare of disappointment. He should be on Abraham’s