looked out the viewscreen. "They are listening. I know they are listening."
The Discovery gently left formation as Alexander's steady hand kept Uranus an even distance above the lunar horizon. Eric notified the four civilian explorer ships and put them on yellow alert.
"Don't take chances, Eric," ordered Michael. "Bring them into battle formation #6 with a possible attack in twenty minutes."
Battle formation #6 was a 1-4 pyramid, with the civilians making a base of a square and the Discovery forming the point.
Michael, do you really expect an attack?" asked Randolph. He wasn't being meddlesome. As official recorder he had done nothing except routine log entries since leaving deep thrust. Prince Michael looked at him and sighed. Though not related by blood, legally they were brothers.
"Doug." Michael spoke slowly. "Plot a course for home and link all of the fleet's deep thrust controls into the Discovery's. Prepare to scrub the entire mission and make an emergency run for Mercury."
"Sir, Red Rover reports that it will take at least 15 minutes to prepare for deep thrust," said Eric.
Michael nodded that he understood. "Doug, what information do you have on our visitors?"
"Overall design is terrestrial but it's not in any of our files." Doug turned his head from the hooded viewscreen. "All six are battle cruiser class, energy capacity approximately 70% of ours, with nuclear engines and warheads. The hulls are thin steel. As of five minutes ago they began rapid deceleration. Now visible on all viewscreens, with contact in seventeen minutes thirty seconds."
Red Rover had almost three minutes to spare. The approaching battle cruisers glistened an ethereal greenish-white in the mystical light of Uranus below; flaming red crosses on both the top and bottom.
"So," mused Alexander, "The Church has battle cruisers capable of deep space."
The intense magnification made every viewscreen go dark as the six battlecruisers disappeared behind the lunar horizon.
"Take us out of orbit, Alexander, regain visual contact. Eric, tell the civilian captains to maintain formation. Doug, sensor report."
"We've lost all contact, sir. But our last reading showed them to be accelerating."
"Full auxiliary power. Alexander! Take us into space where we can see what's coming at us. Notify Red Rover that we go into deep thrust in thirty seconds. Save personnel, not projects."
Prince Michael settled back into his command chair and became completely enveloped in a cool green gelatin. While so enveloped he could, for a short time, use "the Will" to direct the entire fleet. The Will allowed control directly through the electrical impulses of the brain. Alexander networked the control panels of the fleet in preparation for an emergency escape.
"Everyone ready, including Red Rover," barked Eric. From over the lunar horizon sped the six battlecruisers. Eric, Doug, Phillip and Randolph sat back in their own acceleration absorbing chairs and each disappeared into their own cool green gelatin. Alexander watched the rest of the crew disappear. The thrust absorbing green gelatin would be the only protection a person would have against the immeasurable thrust of nuclear engines.
Alexander checked the instruments to ensure that no one on any other ship was out of his chair. He turned to an empty spot on the pilot's control panel and opened a small door. He turned a key that enabled him to push the large button behind the recently opened door. It flashed slowly as the countdown began toward the simultaneous chain reactions on the 5 Imperial spacecraft. The warheads detonated in the middle of a formation that had been there only seconds before.
The fleet emerged from deep thrust nearly 80,000 kilometers from home base Mercury. As soon as the acceleration allowed him to move, Prince Michael jumped on the sensors. He looked at Randolph.
"They followed us through deep thrust."
Charles Markham was Supreme Commander of Home Defenses on Mercury. Not really much to the title. Regulations still required him to sit in the main control room of Command Central during first watch. Twenty-two years in Home Defenses was enough for any man, however strong his Constitution. The pressures of boredom were unbelievable.
He read the verse etched with gold lettering on the top of his control panel:
Isaiah 40:31
But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength: they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.
He closed his eyes, leaned back in his chair and thought about it. "Were these years of waiting actually waiting on the LORD?"
He had done a lot of waiting. But the LORD had been with him. He knew that. He thought of times when a crisis had been resolved and all that he had done was to watch. That only happened by the power of the LORD. More likely he was forced to do something unpleasant, simply because it was right. And the LORD had intervened.
"Sir, five ships just emerged from deep thrust. Range 80,000 kilometers, sector H, North 52, bearing oh two oh."
Commander Markham punched several buttons to see if any last minute changes might explain the five ships. They were no help. So he had unscheduled spacecraft just outside a major traffic lane.
"What class?"
"One large battle cruiser, six man, with four deep space exploration craft. All ours, sir."
"Sir, we tried hailing them, but no response. And they just went into formation #24."
Charles hit several buttons rapidly. He found that formation #24 was a tetrahedron rotating on two axes with a center point. It was an effective defensive technique, but why would anyone have a battle in the middle of what amounted to a freeway?
"Sir, six more, same sector, medium battle cruisers, also ours."
"CLEAR OUT THAT SECTOR!" He might blast all eleven of them, if they endangered anyone else. In all of his experience, Charles had never heard of anything so dangerous and foolish.
An aide handed him an encoded message capsule. It had the Prince's personal seal.
"We have a major battle, sir. I'm putting it on visual..."
"Distress call, sir, impossible to tell from who. They're giving us fire coordinates and requesting reinforcements."
"Any civilians in danger?"
"No sir."
"Hold your fire." It was time to do what was right again. And this time it would be very expensive.
The energy shields of the two fleets collided in a rainbow display that entranced the most jaded observer. They danced in shimmering energy fields that waxed and waned in Sol's blinding nearness.
The Imperial fleet held formation, forcing the attackers to expend valuable energy. Energy reserves for ten of the eleven combatants dropped, became critical, yet they still held formation.
The Discovery chose her target well. It exploded silently with blinding blue brilliance, scattering the remaining attackers. She broke formation, and the attackers fell victim to her fully charged energy weapons. The Discovery's merciless onslaught was quite thorough. Every attacker was disabled in seconds. By Michael's personal order, the disabled ships were destroyed. No prisoners were taken.
The two men waiting for them in the soundproof room were official recorders. Commander Markham turned to his aide.
"How long until the Prince arrives?"
"He should already be here."
Williams was an unusual aide. He was a civilian, which was almost unheard of. And he knew the military better than Commander Markham did. And that was unheard of.
The two men sat between the already seated recorders at the stone table near the far edge of the room. All four seats faced the solitary entrance. Technically Michael outranked him, as did any councilman or member of the royal family, Commander Markham rose out of respect for the office when Prince Michael entered with his personal recorder. But Charles waited for the Prince to speak first. An awkward silence ensued.
"Why two Recorders?" Randolph asked, trying to break the ice.
Commander Markham stared at him. Ignoring Michael for a moment he said, "This is a
n important matter and needs as many witnesses as is reasonable. Gentlemen, please be seated."
When they were seated, Commander Markham began, "How old are you, your highness?"
"Twenty-six," he replied curtly.
Commander Markham took a long deep breath, settled back in his comfortable chair, fixed his eyes on Michael and began in a soft, low voice. "Your Highness, a great deal in your career has been overlooked because of your youth. Today's activities will not. The Council has publicly disapproved of your actions on numerous occasions. This was your first fleet assignment to deep space. You detonated a nuclear warhead in a traffic zone. If any citizen of the Space Empire has been injured in any way as a result, you are personally liable. You personally ordered Home Base via message capsule not to interfere. If any citizen of the Space Empire has been injured as a result of the length of your battle, you are personally liable. A commoner could be jailed for this kind of conduct, fleet captain or not.
"Did you know that your glorious victory this afternoon was fought in the main traffic corridor between Earth and Mercury, that ten thousand spacecraft daily travel through that space?"
"No," Prince Michael replied. A very long silence followed. "Were there any casualties?"
"There was neither injury nor loss of property," replied Commander Markham. "But you tied up every tractor beam and communications operator that we had for over three hours. You cost thousands of your subjects a great deal in both money and inconvenience, ignoring the danger to their very lives."
"Commander Markham, these