When the Merkabah Wave Cannons ripped into the heavens, reality seemed to fracture along an impossible seam of sky and lightning. The burst of burning electric blue light flared for the barest space of seconds, sent blinding ripples through the stars that ate into the night and washed away the darkness, blasting both the Feynman and the Ducornet back with the concussive backwash of the release. Sublight thrusters flared, struggling to compensate, rocking through creaking hull specially designed to flex against the pressures and stresses of the waves of compression that rolled viciously through both Daedalus class starships. In the space of a breath, the incredible energy output of the Merkabah cannons had crossed the distance between the Terran ships and the twin Coralate cruisers, bit and tore into chrome hull mercilessly, flayed silver and scattered it in a thousand directions. Shielding his eyes against the burst of light, Hilleboe only heard the cheering, the clapping, the sounds of amazement as the brilliance died away, leaving only a pair of butchered and burning chrome hulks stuttering through the heavens where nearly untouched warships had been before.

“Jesus.” Someone breathed. “We could use something like that on the Von!”

“How long until the Feynman and the Ducornet can fire again?” Hilleboe turned back to Leighton, blinking against the brightness that seemed slow to leave his eyes. Leighton glanced back to her console, pushed feeds of data together, squinted as she worked through a line of telemetry.

“Two minutes.” Leighton grimaced slightly, shook her head as she put both hands on the polyquid surface of her console and leaned against it. “Those Merkabah cannons are amazing, but we’re still going to have to pick up the slack.”

“Everybody has their role to fill.” He nodded, turned back to the viewscreen, blinked as he watched the two Coralate ships splitting off, suddenly plowing the heavens in different directions. Squinting, he crossed the distance between himself and Johanson, looking up as he stopped beside her, his hands coming to rest on the head of her chair. In the pause, she met the Captain’s eyes for the barest instant, looked away again as he spoke. “Any idea what they’re doing, Lieutenant?”

“None, sir.” She worked quickly through incoming telemetry, stared blankly into isometric coding, blinked. “I’m reading a buildup of power in the singularity core of one of the vessels consistent with what we know of pre-jump procedure for Coralate warships.” She looked up, met Hilleboe’s eyes again. “We picked up a spike from the other a second ago that was similar, but weaker.” She looked back at the data again. “It might be too heavily damaged to bend space.”

“Then we need to make the other ship our priority.” Hilleboe glanced at Binford, gestured, got a quick nod in response. “Can you get me a definite status on either of the ships as to weapons, drive integrity, defenses...?”

“Yeah.” Johanson nodded absently, hands already moving, already sorting through data at a speed that bordered on reflex. Eyes tagged and shifted each relevant string in the space of the barest fractions of seconds before fingers followed suit, and within the space of a few spare seconds, she inhaled sharply, lips parting on words. “Okay, so...” She paused, cracked her neck, shifted through a handful of displays. “I’m reading heavy structural damage and a total absence of weapons on the ship preparing to bend space. Physically, it’s no threat to us.” She paused, shook her head. “The other ship, however– I’m reading some anomalous activity in the drive, but it looks more like a malfunction than drive activity. As for weapons,” She sorted through another string of data, shook her head again. “I’m reading only five or six emitters online, and they’re running some kind of energy displacement shield instead of firing.” She turned back to the Captain. “They’re running a straight course to our line, but I don’t think they’re any threat to us– not in the condition they’re in.”

“Kamikaze?”

Johanson blinked, picked through data, shook her head.

“Maybe.” She shook her head again. “But I don’t see how... their drive is so crippled, it would take a miracle for them to hit one of us before we could move out of the way.”

“It couldn’t be an escape attempt...” the Captain looked up again, studied the burning hulk as it pushed its way through the heavens “could it?”

“This is Captain Yuuki– I’m breaking formation to avoid the Coralate warship. My officers have charted the course it seems to be taking and believe that with a few adjustments, it should pass no closer than fifty meters from our hull.”

Captain Hilleboe nodded reflexively. “Hold all fire while the Carl Sagan passes through the splash radius for hits on the ship.”

“Roger.” Came Leighton’s clipped response. In the tensing silence, Johanson’s brows came together, knit in concentration. Isometric data shifted and flexed past hunting eyes, dropped and reordered to make room for new telemetry, new factors–

And then she saw it.

“Oh my god.” Johanson sat up suddenly, caught the Captain’s eyes immediately. “Captain– I” She glanced back, saw the unwavering steel in his gaze. “I recognize this signature in the core of the Cygnan warship!” She blinked, turned back to the viewscreen just in time to see the Carl Sagan pass behind the shadow of the burning Coralate hulk. “It’s consistent with a core overload!” She blinked, mouth dropping open. “They don’t need to hit the Carl Sagan, they just need to... my god, if they get caught in the blast wave–”

“Binford!” Hilleboe wasted no time, got an immediate nod back in response. “Tell Captain Yuuki to get his ship the hell out of there!” His eyes shifted back to the viewer, blinked as his own lips parted in horror. At this range, even the Von would be effected– all those pilots still out there floating in the endless gulfs of space, hanging among the detritus of the cosmos... “Jesus.” He stuttered. “Abrams! F- Full reverse! Get us as far away from that thing as you can.” He glanced back at Binford. “Put the call out. We need to get everyone out of the blast radius that we can before that thing goes up!”

“Roger that!”

“Time to detonation?” The Captain leaned in over Johanson’s shoulder, eyes hunting through the isometric data dancing holographic across her console, absently searching for an answer that Johanson was trained to ferret out at the speed of reflex.

“If I’m interpreting these readings correctly...” The Lieutenant’s face was pale and frightened, bloodless, even as thrusters flared to put more distance between the Von and the Coralate vessel. “It could be at any second.” Eyes rose to the viewscreen, lingered as her voice became suddenly soft and level, distant. “My god. I should have seen it sooner. My god.”

Hilleboe opened his mouth to say something, to offer some shred of assurance, anything–

And then the Coralate ship disappeared in a blinding flash of fire that washed across the stars like the birth of a thousand brilliant suns.