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The alarms rang. Lights flashed red on the console.
“What is it?” His female turned on his lap to face the main viewscreen.
“Ships are approaching ours.” He displayed that information for her. “There are nine warships.”
The ships were flying in a three-vessel-by-three-vessel configuration.
That was…unusual.
“Could they merely be passing by us?” His female placed her hands on his forearms.
“Their trajectory is directly toward us. We should have now appeared on their monitoring systems.” The range of the monitoring systems on the modified freighter had been expanded. “And they’re not changing their course.”
“Oh.” His female’s body stiffened against his.
“We now have visuals.” Strike enlarged the image on the main viewscreen. “The three lead ships are Orion 5428 warships.”
There was a 98.2153 percent probability they all were that type. They were flying in perfect unison. That was easier to accomplish with identical vessels.
“I think that’s the type of warships the Powluks use.” His female frowned.
“I’m raising our shields.” He put that defense in place. “We have to assume they’re hostile.”
“Fates.” His female looked behind them. “Talley. Tsadok. Get in here.” She shouted at their guests.
“We have a communication system.” Strike’s lips quirked upward. “Here.” He tapped the control panel to activate it.
His female leaned over the console. “Talley. Tsadok. Get in here.” She didn’t lower her voice.
“The warships are slowing.” All his mirth vanished with that processing. The probability the beings in the vessels weren’t targeting them was now 0.0000 percent. “They’re within striking range of our ship.”
The modified freighter’s shields wouldn’t hold for a long duration under an all-out assault.
“What is it?” Tsadok ran onto the bridge. The Powluk male was completely naked.
“We—” Strike’s female glanced at her friend’s male. “Yikes.” Her face flushed with pink pigment, and she immediately looked back at the main viewscreen.
“Nine warships are positioned within range of us.” Strike gestured to the main viewscreen.
“Those are ours.” Tsadok moved beside them. “Hail them.”
“I’m hailing them.” Strike opened those communications.
An image of a Powluk male appeared on the main viewscreen.
“Captain Ausk, this is Second Zetus.” Tsadok lifted his chin. “You are to stand down.”
The image shifted to that of a gray-haired Powluk male. “Second Zetus, this is First Zetus. Prepare to be boarded.”
The communication ended.
Strike’s female’s friend entered the bridge. Her hair was mussed. Her flowing garment was disheveled. “What’s happening?”
“My father is boarding our ship.” Tsadok’s tone was grim.
“Fates.” The male’s female grimaced. “That can’t be good.”
“It’s a disaster.” The Powluk raked his fingers through the strip of hair on top of his head.
