Leviathans digested metal and plastic, but fuel, explosives, and especially fissile materials were its primary targets, and the reason leviathans chased ships. Thank God they were so rare.
“Are there any other warships in the system?” Rutherford asked.
“Unfortunately—” Norris began.
Rutherford cut him off. “I was talking to the commander. I want you to communicate with engineering. Shunt power from the shields and ready countermeasures. Caites, get me the gunnery and see what we’ve got that might help.”
“No, sir, there aren’t any warships,” Commander Pittsfield said in answer to the question. “There are no Royal Navy vessels in this system except Vigilant .”
“Can we return to the previous jump point? It can’t follow us through.”
“No, sir,” Pittsfield said. “The leviathan has spit up plasma spores around the jump. A whole web of them. They’ll gum up our engines and trap us if we try to go through.”
“Sir, may I suggest something?” Norris said.
“No, Norris. You may not. Do what you were told.” Rutherford turned back to Pittsfield. “What is our fuel situation?”
“Low. Not critical, but we don’t have much to spare.”
“I don’t want to outrun it only to burn through so much fuel that we can’t make the next jump.” Rutherford glanced at Lieutenant Caites, who had been speaking quietly into her com link. “Any word from the gunnery?”
She looked up. “We have no fission weapons on board. They were expended in the bombardment of San Pablo. Nothing else is big enough to drive off the leviathan—that is the opinion of the gunnery, at least.”
Rutherford frowned. “I see.”
That brutal and possibly criminal bombardment of the Hroom continent, as ordered by the lord admiral, had not only precipitated a new war, but had left him bereft of the only weapon that could drive off the leviathan. But what could Rutherford have done, disobey a direct order?
“May I offer a suggestion, Captain?” Caites asked.
“Yes, of course.”
“Wait,” Norris said, looking up. “How come you’ll listen to her and not me?”
Because she is not an idiot.
And because Rutherford had promoted Catherine Caites himself, had brought her on board after the initiative she’d shown tracking down the mystery of Apex. Norris, on the other hand, was one of Malthorne’s toadies, foisted on Rutherford to assure his loyalty when he faced his old friend, James Drake. And Rutherford was now fairly certain that it was Malthorne who was the traitor to Albion, not Drake and his crew.
But Rutherford had no wish to become a tyrant. He needed to put aside his anger.
“One moment, Caites. Yes, Norris?”
“What about lasers? We have a fifty kilowatt, and we could use it to blind the leviathan’s sensors, maybe even burn off some of its tentacles.”
“No, that won’t work.” Rutherford glanced at Caites, then turned to Pittsfield. “Commander, how long until we fall in range of the leviathan’s spore cannons?”
“Ninety-seven minutes,” Pittsfield said.
“Why not?” Norris persisted. “It’s not like the thing has tyrillium armor or anything. Why wouldn’t it be susceptible to laser fire? We have an hour and a half, we could concentrate the laser on one spot. If we hurt it enough, it might leave us alone.”
Rutherford sighed. “Norris, a star leviathan can brush through the corona of a star, for God’s sake. A 50-kilowatt laser wouldn’t even tickle the thing.”
“Oh.”
Caites had waited while Norris rambled, but she’d been shifting from one foot to the other, leaning forward. She was steady, but still young, and Rutherford had learned to recognize when she was eager to share information. He made his way to her station.
“What is it, Lieutenant?” Rutherford asked.
“Look at this, Captain.”
Caites had apparently been running through scans of the system, perhaps looking for other ships that might be bribed or bullied into helping them if there