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Borneo was now some distance behind, and CSS Archerfish was definitely in Sa'arm space. They were approaching a previously unscouted star to see what trouble they could get into.
The crew, both Navy and concubine, were at battle stations, in sealed battle armour, plugged into the ship which provided environmental support and power to their suits, and sitting secured to acceleration chairs. All missile tubes were full, as they had been since before the Archerfish had left drydock weeks before. All hatches were sealed and even the battle shields were at full power.
Captain Koenig chewed his lip and ordered, "Drop to normal space."
The light returned to normal and Helm reported, "In normal space, Sir."
"No encroachments on forward sensors, Sir."
"No encroachments on aft sensors, Sir."
"Good. Passive sweep for sign of a Sa'arm ship." Koenig breathed a little easier. He still rubbed his chin — or rather the armour protecting his chin — thoughtfully with his gloved left hand.
"Passive sweep for sign of Sa'arm ship, aye."
The pause did nothing to ease the tension on the ship.
"Sir! Thruster trace identified. Probably Sa'arm. Ship is likely carrying less than 100, possibly about 60."
"And this ship would be where, exactly?" asked a frustrated Koenig
The concubine at the forward sensor station activated a flashing red light near the fourth planet. A window opened showing a close-up of the reading.
"Optically confirmed as Sa'arm, tentatively as Sa'arm advance scout. Vacuna class."
The planet had three small moons and a larger one, and a poisonous atmosphere, at least for humans. Koenig pointed to the smallest of the three natural satellites.
"Bring us in behind that moon. When we get to the point where we're going to lose visual, launch Probe One to retain contact."
"Aye aye, Sir. Probe One will be needed in five minutes twenty-one seconds."
In the probe bay in the keel of Archerfish, Probe One began warming up. It was about three metres long and had no supraluminal drive, but like Archerfish herself was as stealthy as Confederacy technology — at least that level released to the Human contingent of the Confederacy — could make it. The Confederacy referred to it as a Remora-class probe. Hopefully the Sa'arm never found out about it to call it anything.
"Visual cutoff ... mark."
"Launch Probe One."
"Launching Probe One." The hatch on the keel of the ship snapped open, the probe's mounting bracket dropped, the probe fired its tiny engines ... and as fast as that the bracket retracted and the hatch slammed shut. Nothing must break the smoothness of the midnight-black covering protecting the fragile ship and crew from detection.
For the next couple of hours the Archerfish and her little Remora played tag with the larger, clearly more powerful Sa'arm ship. Finally they'd gotten to the point where they would have to expose themselves to enemy detection and fire. But Captain Koenig had a smarter idea. At least, he hoped it was a smarter idea.
"Here's what we do," Koenig suggested to Lieutenant Quinn. "We program the torpedoes to go around this moon, picking up speed from sling-shotting around it, and hit the target amidships. We don't expose ourselves because we stay behind the moon, with only the Remora visible."
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