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into the data with her team. There were signs of implanted mechanical hardware on a lot of the smaller bioforms, but the exotic matter was the key. It was a fundamental component of the hyper-portal emitters—and the synchronization between emitters required to create a portal almost guaranteed that they had to have enough of them on one ship to open a portal.

“The portal they opened had to be big enough for the Cat-Five,” she told Rogers. “That gives us a minimum amount of exotic matter. How much?”

Her former XO whistled quietly through her teeth. “Four-hundred-kilometer-diameter portal requires fifty emitters of the size the Laians use, so….umm…one hundred fifty negative kilograms.”

“And we’re seeing just over twelve hundred negative kilograms total?” Morgan asked. “So, six portal ships?”

“And they can’t be the Cat-Ones,” Rogers agreed. “They’re just not big enough. If they didn’t bolt them onto the big guys, then I’m guessing they’re on Category Twos—cruiser equivalents.”

“If we narrow it down to that, can you flag our most-likelies?” Morgan asked

“On it.”

“Missiles inbound,” echoed a report from Arnaud’s bridge. “Three salvos in space. Estimate fifty missiles of the first will enter the Buckler perimeter.”

“If we can’t handle fifty missiles, we all need to go back to school,” Tan!Stalla replied. “Keep up the evasive maneuvers. I do not want that Category Five within plasma range of this fleet!”

The range was dropping. Not quickly—not yet—but the Infinite had enough acceleration to keep up with the task force’s evasive maneuvers.

Even as Morgan joined her team in going through the data on the midsized Infinite bioforms, part of her mind was doing the math on the closing speeds.

The faster they found the portal ships, the better—because Morgan Casimir wasn’t sure they could stay out of the Infinite’s range for long!

“There,” Morgan exclaimed as the last pieces of her analysis fell into place. “Rogers, double-check that. I’ve got a three-hundred-meter Category Two that’s reading negative mass numbers at the right level.

“Check my numbers.”

The negative mass of exotic matter was relatively straightforward to detect with any of the sensors available to the Imperium—but with so many contacts in a relatively short period of time, picking out that signature from everything else going on was a pain.

“Running the data,” Rogers replied. “Got it. Sixteen percent metal by mass, almost ten percent more than the rest of the Twos. One hundred sixty kilograms negative mass. That’s our portal ship and probably our anomaly-sensor platform.”

“Take the pattern, ID the others,” Morgan ordered. She ran one last set of analyses, an almost-automatic matching of the drone sensor data to the hyperspace anomalies, then turned to rest of the flag bridge.

“Squadron Lord, we have a target,” she reported. “Using the signature to ID the others, but we definitely have a line on one of the portal ships. Passing it to Operations.”

“Got it,” Ashmore reported. “Transferring to all ships.”

He paused.

“I hope this one is less tough than the big guy,” he said. “Because I think the Cat-Five is falling back, but we’ve put thousands of missiles into the bastard.”

“It’s one-tenth a percent of the Cat-Five’s size,” Morgan pointed out. “It should be a lot less tough.”

“The good news is they’ve stopped shooting missiles at us and they didn’t manage anything with them,” Tan!Stalla noted. “The bad news is that we have about five minutes before we’re in plasma-lance range…and probably the Infinite’s plasma range.

“So, make sure all of the tactical departments have those targets, Ashmore. We are not playing with these people in plasma range.”

Morgan held her tongue as she checked the math. Even if they took out every portal unit, there were still dozens of Infinite bioforms closing on the fleet. The Category Three units were a bigger threat than the Category Twos.

If the portal ships were the only ones with anomaly scanners, they had a chance after taking them. But that was a big if.

“Multiple hits from the first salvo on the portal ship,” Ashmore reported. “Anomaly is…gone. The bioform might still be with us, but she’s not moving anymore.”

New icons popped up on Morgan’s display before anyone could ask, and she tapped a command.

“Sending you the targets for the other portal ships,” Morgan told him. “We think there’s only five left, but we’re flagging ten, as target identification isn’t perfect.”

“We didn’t need the entire fleet’s missiles to kill the last one,” Tan!Stalla noted. “Split our fire, get them all. Then we can assess the rest of the fleet.”

Morgan realized a new marker had added itself to the main tactical display. There were no features or geography to hyperspace, so all that was on that display were the maneuver cones of the Imperial task group and the closing Infinite bioforms.

The new marker was a countdown, tracking the minutes until the Infinite units entered their estimated range of their ships. There were only three and a half minutes left.

“Fleet navigation will stand by for my orders,” Tan!Stalla noted. “Running doesn’t seem to be working, but I have an alternative plan.

“But kill me those portal ships, please.”

Thirty-two capital ships and forty-eight cruisers of the A!Tol Imperial Navy fired a lot of missiles, even limited to the systems that worked in hyperspace. The Infinite lacked the maneuverability of interface-drive ships, making them easier targets in hyperspace.

“We got four of them,” Ashmore reported as the Imperial missiles struck home. “Still six targets on the board, but next salvo is already inbound.”

Morgan checked the timer. They had time. In theory…but she wasn’t sure what happened after the portal ships were gone. There was still a fleet of ships sixty to a hundred kilometers across, heading their way.

“All targets down, all targets down,” Ashmore barked. “Casimir, what’s our chances?”

“Ninety-five percent we got them all,” Morgan replied. “It’s possible we mis-IDed one, but there’s no way to tell now.”

“Then we take the chance,” Tan!Stalla ordered. “Villeneuve Navigation, confirm: we have exited the Astoroko Nebula’s hyperspace shadow, correct?”

“Yes, sir,” one of Arnaud’s officers replied. “We estimate we are least a light-month outside the nebula.”

“Good. All ships will open portals and

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