A second later his mind snapped back from its momentary panic.
"One to Three." He recounted the facts. "If Two has survivors get them on board, or lash them to the sides, or whatever makes sense. Then catch up with us at max and give us a hand.
"These warheads are coated against detection in the old stealth style. I've got to warn our fleet what's coming so they can go evasive as much as they can. Our fleet's break from course or formation will mess up any tactics they have in mind. They won't have time to form up even if they do escape the blast and radiation zones. Firing at the warhead won't help, even at close range. It's wrapped in so many layers of armor even particle-beamers can't penetrate, so I don't know what our explosive decompressors and laser-quads can do. But we've got to try."
##
Two was a twisted, gray mass in a slow tumble when Three drew close. Myra reduced power in her ship's magnetic beams and directed them at the wreck until it stabilized. She maneuvered until the ships touched. The beams held.
Myra pushed the canopy clear, climbed out, and crawled forward. She grasped a jagged projection on the wreck, swung aboard, and stared into what had been the control pit. She turned away and returned to her ship without looking at Drummer. Laser quads left little organic residue.
##
Brad switched to standard communications channels and keyed in his identity. In a moment they were switched to a channel closed to outsiders.
"Sentinel One to UIPS Fleet Comm Center.
Acknowledge."
The reply was swift.