Anaton, the Federation base on Antares IV, was six days at full blast without Hyper-drive. After the round of hectic activity surrounding their escape from Sector I, officers and crew alike found the uneventful trip restful but boring. O'Brien played endless games of solitaire; Irvington slept; and Harrigan planned. Anaton was the biggest Federation base in Sector II, and the Hyper-drive was there. He just hoped that the base itself was there yet. At 0300 hours on the sixth day, Antares shone like a great red eye and they were three hours out of base. Antares III swung slowly past and Harrigan alerted the crew.
They didn't have long to wait. O'Brien had just stacked his cards away when the starboard watch howled and three Xantu ships screamed across the Albion bow, almost on collision course. Harrigan's brow wrinkled as the tail ship dropped back to engage the Albion and the other two fled. These were not the usual Xantu tactics. Irvington coolly got the black craft between his sights, there was a whoosh and a blinding blast and four billion square miles of space flashed into daylight. The Albion quickly overtook the two remaining ships and gun-banks three, four and five riddled one of them. It slowed, spun and became a lifeless, drifting shell.
A blinding blast, and four billion square miles of space flashed into daylight....
But the pilot of ship three was no fool. He suddenly swiveled his ship, boomed off at a tangent, and, as the Albion whipped by, his gunner caught her full in the tubes with a full charge from the stern guns. Now it was the Albion's turn to spin end for end. But as the Xantu craft spun into his sights for a fraction of a second, Irvington tripped the atomic cannon again. The bolt ricochetted off the Xantu's bow and the ship slowly split down the center like an over-ripe melon. From the bridge, Harrigan counted three life boats deserting the mother ship and he watched the gunners vainly try to pick them off. But they were too small a target, and they quickly merged into the sanctuary of darkness.
He buzzed O'Brien. "Let's get down to Drive, quick. They got that Xantu blast dead center."
The drive section was a shambles. Men in weird asbestos suits and masks staggered through the smoke and fumes with the broken bodies of the rocket crew that had been caught in the explosion. Harrigan brushed at angry tears as they carried Joe Merrick—the officer in charge—past them and laid the charred body beside the others. Merrick had been with him through both campaigns, and now the bitterness within Harrigan turned to grim resolution. At length, thirty-seven men were counted out of action permanently. The admiral turned solemnly away.