Suicide Mission

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THE BLACK PLASTIC ship nosed up alongside the Khalian frigate—black, so that light-based sensors couldn’t find it, and it couldn’t be detected visually as it drifted in between the ships of the Khalian perimeter; plastic, so that radio-based sensors couldn’t find it. Darts sprang out from its side, darts tipped with synthetic-diamond covering explosive charges. They slammed through the Khalian’s hull, and four explosions mushroomed their heads.

Inside the black barracuda, winches whined, reeling in line, pulling the two ships close together. Then a metal ring slammed into the Khalian, and current flowed, binding the collar to the Khalian while automatic screws dug into the ship’s skin. A man sprang onto the mesh tunnel that joined the collar to the plastic ship and began slapping explosive gel onto the Khalian’s hull in a widening circle.

Bound together in an embrace of hatred, the two ships floated in the void. Distant stars gleamed—Khalian ships and Terran ships, twinkling with death as they circled Dead Star 31.

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