With covert
glances back at Zimbardo, the men returned to their stations.
Zimbardo barked out a command.
"Status report!"
"Right away, sir," said Gene, taking his own seat. He attended to
various dials and incoming signals.
Zimbardo stood up and walked over to the great window that overlooked
the huge rocket pad outside. There were seven ships left-six belonging
to the independent smugglers, Jeff Jenner, Lorry, and Captain Kimball,
and his own personal ship, the Tartarus. Even the Silver Spear had been
taken by Lorry. The asteroid was nearly empty of men; only his support
crew, the smugglers and their crews, and a few others remained.
"Sir," spoke up Gene. His voice trembled. He spoke as one apologizing.
"Mr. Zimbardo. Mr. Lather sent in a frantic message that all eighteen
ships were under attack. The transmission was cut off in mid-sentence.
I scanned their location, sir, and detected three large Space Command
ships approaching our convoy. They are about to be captured, sir."
Zimbardo turned slowly and looked at Gene without a change in
expression. "And?" he said. "There's more, I can tell. And..."
"And there is a large fleet of ships belonging to Space Command and
Starlight Enterprise converging on our location. In less than three
hours, fourteen ships will be arriving within minutes of each other.
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