"Kinetics show full reload," Buccari persisted. "Arming complete."

"Move, Lieutenant. You're EPL pilot," Quinn ordered. "I'll finish."

Buccari disconnected her tethers, but her efforts to leave were stymied by the considerable mass of the chief engineer emerging from the access hatch. Warrant Officer Rhodes pushed across the congested deck and strapped into the second officer's station. Hudson reappeared, helmet and wide shoulders wedged in the hatchway.

"Got the laser cannon hooked up to main power!" Rhodes shouted.

Quinn jerked in his station. "What the…the cannon? But main power is gone! What've you guys been doing? Why isn't anyone on line?" Rhodes held up his hands; the pilot's transmission overrode all communications. Rhodes could not respond until Quinn's questions ceased.

"Goldberg cleared and spooled the fusion ionizers-" Rhodes began.

"But the reactor temps!" Buccari interrupted on suit radio.

"Mains are hot," Rhodes said. "I re-routed power across the aux bus. That killed our comm circuits and kicked over the power manager. Primary bus is friggin' creamed, but we got a shot at syncing in five minutes. Auto-controls are disabled. Fire control will have to be manual."

Quinn spun back to his command console and flipped the weapons switch on the intercom. "Gunner, you on line?"

The response from weapons control, two decks below, was immediate: "Affirmative, Skipper," responded the gravelly voice of Chief Wilson. "I sent Schmidt and Tookmanian to the lifeboats. What's go—"

"Stay put, Gunner. We got another card to play. You'll be getting a green light on the cannon panel. Update your solution on the bogey and get ready to toast his butt. You copy?"

"Huh…roger that, sir," Wilson growled. "No kidding? Bogey's squealing garbage all over the place, but I'm still tracking him solid. Down-Doppler. Estimate no more than seven or eight minutes before we reengage. I don't know what Virgil's telling you, Skipper, but my panel says we're two weeks away from a hot cannon."