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She switched her viewpoint back to the battle taking place all around the Mjollnir. So far, the Meridian drones in conjunction with the field-generators were doing a good job of protecting the frigate but, for all their extraordinary power, they were being pushed to their limit by the onslaught of scouts. Worse, a godkiller had now appeared a couple of light-seconds away, vectoring towards them on an intercept course.
Dakota didn't want to think about what would happen if it got within range before they had a chance to jump.
‹Dakota.› Corso's voice sounded terse and strained. ‹I think something got in here with us.›
She switched her view back to one of the spider-mechs and searched through the shadows until she saw it: the scout that was part hidden in the twisted shadows of wreckage. As she watched, its carapace began to slide apart, revealing a variety of deadly-looking machinery. The hold was now a weak spot, since most of the field-generators meant to protect it had been destroyed during Trader's jump.
The scout began to cut and burn its way through an exposed bulkhead leading to the frigate's interior.
I've got it.
A Meridian drone peeled off from the rest, darting back inside the wreckage and reducing the scout to white-hot slag within moments.
How's it going with that lander?
‹Nearly done,› Perez replied. ‹She'll be good to go just as soon as we've finished mounting the field-generators on her hull.›
One hundred and eighty seconds to the next jump. Get back inside the instant you're done.
‹We'll be done by then.›
Dakota drew the drones back inside the frigate while Corso and Perez retreated through a still-functioning airlock that led into the rest of the ship. Less than three minutes later, the Mjollnir fell once more between the folds of the universe. The frigate dropped back into space less than twenty thousand kilometres from the surface of the cache-world. The system's star now filled the sky, huge and terrifying, while the hull's sensor arrays showed the world itself as a circle of black imposed against this seething light.
New data came in: vast, apparently abandoned craft circled the star in long, eccentric orbits, along with a halo of less easily identifiable junk. The surface of the target world itself, outside of the cache, was pocked with what might have been machinery or habitats of some kind. There were two… no, three godkillers in orbit around the target world.
As she watched, they started to move out of orbit. Because of me, she thought, with no small amount of horror.
A few moments later, Emissary scouts began to materialize all around the frigate.
She picked up Trader's yacht, already dropping down towards the planet's surface. He was being chased by several scouts himself, and automated defences positioned on the surface of the planet were firing on him. Trader became aware of the Mjollnir 's arrival at about the same time his ship warned him that its primary defences were approaching catastrophic failure. The scouts that had been chasing him decelerated almost at once, reversing their thrust and heading back towards the frigate.
Within his yacht, the waters remained dark and cool. Trader studied the data coming in from his hull arrays, but no matter how often he looked he still couldn't quite believe what it was telling him. ‹Dakota. I see that you are still alive.›
Trader?
‹I did not expect you to make it this far.›
What can I say?. I'm tenacious when I'm really fucked off. When we're done, I'm going to take that damn artefact and ram it up your-
‹Dakota, according to my instruments, the Emissaries have just dropped a nova mine into their own star. The neutrino flux is quite unmistakable.›
You can't be serious.
He waited while she checked the readings from her own ship's sensors. When she came back, he could feel her panic surging across the co
But why? They can't possibly know about the artefact. Can they?
‹Perhaps Hugh Moss knew about the Mos Hadroch. If so, he may have passed the information on to the Emissaries.›
I told Moss you had a way to stop the war. I thought he might…
‹Listen to reason?›
Go to hell.
‹A most infelicitous disclosure, Dakota. Certainly enough for him to infer the existence of something approaching the nature of the artefact.›
But why blow the whole damn system up?
‹It is in the Emissaries' nature to lay waste all around them. If the sun detonates before I can implement the Mos Hadroch, the cache will be destroyed, and with it any chance of stopping them. They are, after all, not lacking for other caches in other parts of their empire. Do not attempt to take over my yacht again, Dakota. Not if you value our purpose in being here.›
Trader! Wait-
But once again, he was gone.
Chapter Thirty-six
As some of the field-generators were finally overwhelmed, scouts began to whip in towards the frigate's hull, their blades and cutting implements slicing through the thick armoured plates. The Meridian drones were meanwhile dying, overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of the scouts.
Dakota watched it all with a growing sense of frustration and panic. The scouts were attacking the Mjollnir because of herself, specifically because of whatever it was Moss had put inside her.
It was time for something drastic.
A minute or two later she sensed Lamoureaux entering the bridge. Indecision froze her for a moment, then she forced herself to stand, the chair's petals folding back around the base of the dais in response.
Martinez was still on the bridge, crouching over a console, talking to Perez over a comms link. He was paying no attention to either Ted or Dakota.
She stepped down and seized Lamoureaux by the arm, as he approached her, pulling him instead towards the exit. Her voice was just above a whisper as she spoke.
'I need your help, Ted. Things just went from bad to worse.'
'What do you mean?'
'Take a look,' she said, transferring the neutrino flux data to him via a link.
His eyes became momentarily unfocused, and his jaw flopped open. 'How long have we got?' he exclaimed, once he had recovered.
'Quiet!' she hissed, nodding towards Martinez, but the Commander was still talking to Perez, still oblivious to the pair of them. 'We've got maybe twelve hours maximum before this whole system goes up.'
Ted looked befuddled, glancing quickly at Martinez and then back again. 'And you want to keep this a secret?'
'No, just… wait for twenty minutes before telling them.'
He eyed her with increasing suspicion. 'Dakota, what the hell are you up to?'
'Here.' She linked with him again and transferred over the command structure for the Meridian drones. 'You can handle them just as well as I can.'
Over Lamoureaux's shoulder, she saw Martinez glance up and study them for a few seconds, then look away again.
She nodded silently towards the passageway outside the bridge. He picked up the hint and followed her.
'Take the chair and run the drones for me,' she told him once they were outside.
'Why can't you do it yourself?'
The ship's data-space informed her that Corso and Perez were on their way back from the hold. One of the landers was hooked up to an airlock and ready for launch.
'Do you remember what I said earlier, that there was something on board this ship that was leading the Emissaries straight towards us?'
He nodded.
'That something is me, Ted. I don't know what it is or how he did it, but a man called Hugh Moss planted something on me. Not even my Magi ship realized it was there. While you're ru