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“How long would it take for a message to reach them ?” You ask Gotch.
“At the current distances ? Probably the entire day for the message to reach them and a response to comeback to us.”
“Plenty of time then. Send a message identifying who we are and asking the same of them, and their reason why they are here.” You begin a moment of thought later. “In the meantime, I will raise the militia. We shall see how tough they feel once they witness the defences we have.”
“Hopefully they miss the fact that we have no AOs in place.”
“Hopefully.” You nod. “Hopefully they might find what we have important enough not to nuke us from orbit.”
“What of the non-combatants ?”
“I have a few ideas. We still have time due to the early warning, so I am keeping them close to heart.”
“Understood, sir.”
This time, you signal for a shuttle to be prepared for your journey into orbit, if there’s to be talk, it will be there, and any information will be first sent to your spacestation over anywhere else. In the meantime, you start making a series of calls raising your various officers and informing them of the situation.
Today’s going to be a long day.
.
.
.
Twenty hours had passed since you first sent the message.
Twenty hours of walking back and forth around the spacestation, watching the skeleton crew on high alert preparing against any potential threat that they might face.
Twenty hours, and the only movement from the unknown force being that of changing course towards intercept. A slight adjustment and one that had maintained speed. It seems that the forces out there are in no hurry to burn their neutronium to move at a much greater pace.
“David !” Someone behind you shouts out, drawing your attention.
“Stellan.” You nod in a greeting. “What has startled you so ?’
“Finally got a response from my own sensor systems.” He states. “Got a clearer reading of what’s coming towards us.”
“Judging by your pale face, I assume those are not good news.”
“Not at fucking all.” He says grabbing a seat. “Once I got clearer power signatures I ran them through the Argonaut’s database. Scans of other ships I had picked up over the years. While I cannot tell you for certain exactly what class those ships belong to, I can tell you how they’d be categorized.”
You take a seat as well. “Shoot.”
“Again, its based on me comparing data about other ships, so I cannot guarantee one hundred percent accuracy. Here is goes.” He clears his throat, clearly looking at his neural interface. “In the centre of the formation appears to be a heavy cruiser, a couple of light cruiser escort and three frigates. Behind those appear to be four cargo haulers, smaller than my own in terms of size, but their power signatures are way stronger than even the Argonaut’s.”
“Terrible. If we’re to fight them, can we win ?”