DSS Dunkerque was literally running for her life. Somehow, Commander DeMay had managed to escape from the formation and maneuver the heavy vessel through a diving hyperbolic course that cleared the oncoming attack formation, and only drew two pursuers. One moment, he was going over checklists. The next, he was in a running gun battle and redlining his engines.

On the one hand, he was furiously angry he wasn’t able to pull more heat away from the fleet. On the other hand, he was more than a little relieved he wasn’t going to have to run to a spot and then fight his way home.

The enemy ships were both fast destroyers armed with enough firepower to cause major problems for the undermanned ship if they got in range. Dunkerque easily outgunned them in a stand-up fight, but that was unfortunately the one thing she wasn’t capable of at the moment.

“Set a course for Barker’s Asteroid! All ahead flank! Continuous acceleration!”

“Sir, that will put us in range of the minefield in less than four minutes!” the pilot shouted.

“Then let’s hope Hunter was right about this ship’s transponders! We’ve got to get that Sentinel into operation as planned!”

“Battlecomp reports enemy contacts are closing. Range now ten thousand miles!” Lieutenant Austin shouted. He was one of DeMay’s hand-picked officers, chosen for his considerable experience as third watch Officer of the Deck aboard Argent.

“Weapons, weapons, there’s got to be a way,” DeMay half-growled, half-shouted as he steadily pounded his fist on the arm of the command chair.

“We don’t have the personnel, sir. We’re doing well to man the helm and engines at this point with only two dozen people!” Austin shouted.

Toby suddenly rose from the command chair. “But we do have the weapons themselves, right? We can arm them manually! Can’t we?”

“Affirmative, skipper, but I’m not sure–”

DeMay punched up the intraship. “Engineering, get me three tactical-trained able crewmen in the center magazine with tac suits and environmental harnesses on the double. Bridge out.”

“What’s your plan, Captain?”

“We’re going to roll our anti-ship missiles out the back door like depth charges, lieutenant. If we set them for delayed detonation, they’ll act like proximity charges, and if we equip them with magnetic field activators, the enemy ship hulls will draw them in like seagulls to a burger joint. Pilot, give me a range and ETA to the edge of the minefield.”

“Two minutes, twenty seconds present speed.”

“Full power to aft battle screens. Austin, you have the conn. Let’s hope that transponder theory doesn’t turn out to be a wrong guess.”

Commander DeMay ran for the magazine deck.