“Cacophony” asked Captain Spinta, “Can we intercept the planet killer under current acceleration rates?”

“No. Even if the planet killer ceases acceleration as projected, we will reach the colony well after impact.”

Spinta rested for a moment in her acceleration cocoon. The gravity generator could be used to reduce somewhat the strain of acceleration, but the greater the acceleration, the less useful it was. At maximum acceleration, it was almost useless. Each crewmember was in an acceleration cocoon, weighing over twice what they did normally, grimly enduring as they pursued the planet killer. She thought for a few moments about ordering Cacophony to reduce the acceleration, but every instinct forbade it.

In case the Gods in Hell granted them some miracle, Spinta wanted, needed to be ready to take advantage of it.

“Captain?” Aludel’s wheezing voice came through the cocoon’s speakers. Makers were much weaker, far more fragile than Singers. Acceleration was harder on Makers, more dangerous.

“Yes?”

“I have. A plan. I am proud. That. We Makers. Unanimously. Approved it.”

Makers! thought Spinta dourly. No concept of chain of command, of obedience to orders. Everything, everything subject to endless debate, nothing being done until agreement was reached.

“What is it?”

“Maximum acceleration. Is not. Maximum acceleration. It is. Maximum. Safe acceleration. Ships can go. Faster. But crew. Is at risk. You. And I. Can jointly. Order. Cacophony. To ignore. Crew safety. Increase acceleration. We can. Reach. Planet killer. In time. To launch. Missiles.”

Spinta tried to shake her head, then winced at the muscle strain. “Cacophony. How big a risk to the crew?”

“At the required acceleration for the required period of time, I project a five percent mortality rate among Singers. Twenty percent among Makers. Perhaps twice as many will be incapacitated for varying periods of time.”

“Aludel? You knew this? All of you knew this?”

“Yes. Many of us. Have kin. On the planet. We are. Willing. To risk. Death. To try. To save them. You can. Fight the. Planet killer. Without us. We are. Expendable.”

“I . . . I never expected . . .”

Aludel made a wheezing sound Spinta finally realized was laughter. “Did you think. That because. We are. Poor fighters. That we. Are cowards?”

“. . . Yes. Yes, I did. I most humbly beg your pardon.”

“No matter. Cacophony. I command. That you. Accelerate. As needed. To catch. Planet killer. Captain?”

Spinta mused to herself that there were distinct advantages to having the responsibility for the lives of the crew spread out among the crew themselves. Her order would result in the deaths of many of her crew, a burden she would bear for the rest of her life. Provided she survived herself, of course.

But her order would perhaps, perhaps save the lives of over ten thousand colonists.

“I agree. Cacophony, alert the crew. Then accelerate as needed to catch the planet killer before impact. Give us thirty or forty minutes at lower acceleration to allow us to man combat stations.”

“Done.”

A starship landed on Spinta’s chest. Her world was reduced to taking one breath and then another. Forever.