point between our approach vectors the enemy missiles will pass just inside of our theoretical maximum effective laser range. Our window of attack will be a fraction of a second, and we’ll have to account for all kinds of sensor and firing latencies in order to hit something moving that fast, but it should be possible to intercept a few missiles if we concentrate our fire.”
“Let’s make that more than a few. Bishop, get us as close as you can at ten G s thrust. Let’s give this our best shot.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Stone, launch drones and fighters and get them to intercept as well. We may as well throw everything we’ve got at this.”
“Roger that, sir.”
“Frost, how long do we have before Earth impact?”
“Forty three minutes and sixteen seconds, sir.”
“Minus eight minutes before Earth even realizes they’ve got incoming,” McAdams said.
Alexander turned to her. “That still gives them thirty five minutes to intercept. Thanks to you. That was a good call, Commander. If we’re lucky, someone else was thinking the same way and the fleet is already on its way to intercept.”
“I hope so, sir. It only takes one of those missiles hitting Earth and a lot of people are going to die.”
Alexander nodded absently.
“Incoming message from fleet command!” Hayes announced.
“It’s been eight minutes already?”
“No, sir. They had to have sent this message before we sent ours.”
“Patch it through to the main display.”
Fleet Admiral Anderson appeared larger than life on the main forward screen. “Admiral Leon,” he said. “We’ve detected incoming ordnance moving at relativistic speeds. Same as what hit the Moon, but there’s more than twenty this time. All available ships are moving to intercept. That means the Adamantine , too. I sent you the target data with this message. Find the best place to intercept, and shoot those missiles down. Anderson out.”
“Do you want to send a reply, sir?” Hayes asked.
“Tell them we saw the missiles before their message reached us, and we’re already on an intercept course.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Cardinal—how long before we reach firing range?”
“Seventeen minutes and eleven seconds, sir.”
Alexander pressed his lips into a grim line. “Let’s hope we can improve those odds for everyone back home.”
“Aye, sir. Unfortunately we’re not in the best position to intercept, but I’ll do my best.”
“What’s the best position?” McAdams asked.
“Directly in front of the incoming ordnance,” Cardinal replied. “The smaller the angle of deflection, the less the speed of the missiles will matter. Calculating an accurate deflection shot against targets moving a hundred thousand klicks per second is not an easy task. You just have to be off by a millionth of a degree or have an extra nanosecond of firing delay and you’ll miss.”
“Sir!” Frost interrupted from sensors.
“What is it, Lieutenant?”
“I’m getting a blip on our long-range scanners within a reasonable margin of the incoming missiles’ trajectory. It’s out over a billion klicks behind the wormhole. Dreadnought analog. The comm transponder identifies it as a Solarian ship—the S.R.S Crimson Warrior. ”
Alexander blinked. “A billion kilometers? What’s out there, Frost?”
“Nothing, sir. Empty space.”
“Isn’t Saturn about that distance from us?” McAdams asked. “The Solarians have a colony on Titan and water mining operations in Saturn’s rings. They might have a reasonable explanation for being that far out.”
“That’s the right distance, but the wrong direction, Ma’am,” Frost replied. “They’re over three hundred million klicks from Saturn, and they don’t appear to be headed for Mars.”
“Hayes, hail them,” Alexander said. “Ask for their flight plan and an explanation of what they’re doing out there.”
“They’re not in our territory, sir. They may feel we have no right to know their business.”
“In