took an instant to breath in deeply and calm his thoughts, then checked the Michaelson 's weapons status on his display. No change. We're not getting ready to fight. But we are getting ready to deal with anything else that might happen .
Maneuvering alerts sounded as the Michaelson 's thrusters fired, pushing the ship around to a new heading. Paul's body slammed against the straps as the acceleration forces jerked around everything inside the ship. He watched the projected course track which had sprung to life, seeing it for the series of compromises it was. Momentum and mass were the problem. Going too fast to get into position would make it impossible to stop in time and stay in position. Just how much slower to go was a matter of judgment. The captain's judgment. Paul knew that as the Michaelson came around the other ships would be quickly figuring out exactly where she was going and how fast she'd get there.
But what good blocking only one ship's fire would do . . .
A woman's voice came on the communications circuit, its light British accent sounding unnaturally calm under the circumstances. "All ships, this is HMS Lord Nelson . We are maneuvering as well. All ships are requested to remain clear of us."
Captain Hayes' demand came on the heels of the Nelson 's captain's announcement. "Where's the Nelson going, Combat?"
I don't know yet ! Paul thought desperately. He knew the captain knew they needed to see the Nelson start moving to even guess on her course, but he also knew the captain didn't want to hear that now. "Working on it, sir," he replied.
But at that instant another message arrived on a secure communications circuit. "USS Michaelson , this is HMS Lord Nelson . We estimate you are placing yourselves between Gilgamesh and its targets. We will position ourselves to block the fire of Saladin . Is this agreeable? Over."
Hayes' response held the first note of joy Paul had detected this night. "Absolutely, Captain Vitali. Michaelson welcomes the actions of Lord Nelson . Over."
"Lord Nelson was never one to hesitate in the face of a need for action, Captain Hayes. The Royal Navy can scarcely do otherwise than live up to his reputation. Out."
"Thank God for the Brits," Garcia muttered.
The Michaelson 's maneuvering systems fired again, pitching the ship around and jerking her crew against their restraints. Paul shook his head and blinked to clear his vision, then looked back at his display. " Gilgamesh is maneuvering."
Garcia studied the display, then grunted. "He's trying to sidestep us. Captain, the Gilgamesh —"
"I've got it," Hayes replied, his voice cool now. "They're complicating our move to block their line of fire to the asteroid, but that's all." Thrusters fired again, augmented by the Michaelson 's main drive. Paul rolled with the forces pulling at him, grateful that he was experienced enough at space operations that his stomach could handle the erratic shifts and sudden returns to zero gravity.
Combat systems emitted several short, sharp cracking sounds to warn of shots from the Gilgamesh coming close to the Michaelson as the SASAL ship tried to keep pounding targets on the asteroid. The Gilgamesh 's energy weapons didn't make any actual sound as they blazed past too close for comfort through the vacuum of space, but system designers had realized that the fastest and most effective way of alerting a crew to incoming fire was to simply simulate sounds that might be made by such weapons if they could be heard. Paul, trying not to duck at the sounds, realized the idea worked very well indeed.
He checked the read-outs on his display and felt himself sweating. The shots had been far too close, less than five kilometers away, a distance the Michaelson covered in seconds at her current velocity. If those SASAL ships keep trying to shoot past us, they run a real risk of accidentally hitting us, even if it's only a graze on our hull . The thought brought a surge of anticipation. If they hit us, we can