False Colors

CHAPTER 20

Raptor 401, VF-88 “Crazy Eights”

Near Orbital Station Asharazhal, Baka Kar System

1227 hours (CST)

“Thor One, this is Odin One,” Doomsday said. “We’re starting our run. Follow us in.”

“Roger that,” Lieutenant Commander Stefan Razin replied tersely. Razin commanded VA-702, the Black Pumas, Mjollnir’s single squadron of Paktahn-class bombers. Their codename for the day’s battle was appropriate to their role. Like Thor, the thunder god, ‘would hammer the orbital station into submission.

Montclair lined up his fighter and started his run. “Make your run count,” he ordered his squadron. They spread out in a loose line, diving straight toward the orbital station’s main launch bay.

Fighters rose from the depths of the station, Dralthis, Darkets, even an eight-ship squadron of old-style Jalthi heavy fighters that were the same vintage as Doomsday’s Raptor. Montclair grinned and opened fire, pouring on the energy weapons fast enough to deplete his reserves in a matter of seconds. The station launch bay was bigger than a carrier’s flight deck, and more fighters could launch simultaneously from it, but they were still constricted as they passed through the airlock force field…and the change from atmosphere to vacuum, artificial gravity to zero-g, caused even experienced pilots a moment’s loss of control as they made the transition. The Raptors were taking good advantage of that, knocking down enemy fighters almost as fast as they could clear the gaping maw.

A few made it out, though, and streaked up to meet the Raptors with guns blazing. “Break! Break! Break!” Montclair chanted, peeling off to go after a Jalthi. The rest of the Raptors broke formation to pursue individual targets as well, their initial job of covering the approach of the bomber squadron done.

Montclair slid under the Jalthi and did a fast reverse, coming up on his opponent’s six and opening fire at close range with a pair of heat seekers and his gatling mass driver. The Jalthi’s stern came apart, and then the Kilrathi fighter erupted in a fireball. Doomsday plunged straight through the inferno, already starting to alter course in search of fresh prey. Below, he spotted the Paktahns streaming past in a line, each bomber pulling up at the last possible second and dumping a full load of ordnance straight into the opening of the launch bay. They probably couldn’t hope to do a thorough job of destroying such a large target, but the Kilrathi fighters still trying to launch there would be sitting ducks, and the damage those missiles did would be enough to keep the station’s contingents of fighters from being a problem for the duration of the day’s battle.

A Dralthi maneuvered toward him, trying to work around to the rear of the Raptor. “No way, kitty,” Montclair said, pulling his control stick hard over. His fighter rolled and spun, seeking the new target.

Hornet 101, VF-12 “Flying Eyes”

Low Planetary Orbit, Baka Kar, Baka Kar System

1230 hours (CST)

“Here they come!” Babe Babcock called. “Drifter, you cover my tail!”

“With pleasure,” Lieutenant Commander David “Drifter” Conway responded.

Babcock’s Flying Eyes had drawn the assignment of covering the embattled Mjollnir from any attacks that might originate planetside. Sweeping low, they had spotted a tight knot of targets climbing fast from a base on the northern coast of the largest equatorial continent. Evidently they were the only Cats on the ball today. They were the first on the scene, and Babcock intended to punish them for their efficiency.

“Stay close,” she said. The Hornets swept forward in a tight formation, swooping down into the upper fringes of the atmosphere at a speed high enough to cause the shields to flare red from the energy they were absorbing. The targets were rising fast…

They erupted into view, two full squadrons of Darket light fighters. Their formation was loose; it looked to Babcock as if each pilot was pushing his craft hard to be the first to reach the battle. Instead, she told herself with a smile, the battle had found them.

“Concentrate your fire!” she ordered. Babcock keyed her comm console to identify her own target to the rest of the squadron, then lined up her shot and opened up. An instant later all ten of her squadron-mates were adding their firepower to her own.

It was risky business, ignoring fifteen fighters to focus on one, and the Cats replied to the Hornets’ attack with their own fire. But their coordination was poor, so each Hornet took individual hits that were easily absorbed by shields, while the full power of eleven paired Hornet lasers tore into a single target, ripping through shields and armor and destroying the ship in a moment.

Babcock switched her target and fired again, with the same effect. Then the two groups of fighters flashed past each other.

“Break and attack at will!” she called, cutting the targeting transmission. “Drifter, follow me in!”

But Drifter Conway had picked up a pair of Darkets on his own tail. He tried to reverse course, but the two Kilrathi ships cut loose on him as he turned, and he lost control of his plane. A moment later it exploded.

Babcock bit back an oath and nailed the nearest Darket with a missile. Part of her wanted to mourn the loss of another of her Flying Eyes, but this wasn’t the time or place. You pushed the feelings aside and concentrated on the job at hand. The job of killing Cats.

The job went on. Her sensors were picking up a fresh wave of planes rising to intercept them, and they already had plenty off foes to deal with as it was…

Vaktoth 505, VF-489 “Black Leopards”

High Planetary Orbit, Baka Kar, Baka Kar system

1234 hours (CST)

Laser and missile fire probed outwards from the Kilrathi cruiser, making Lieutenant Commander Ileana Constantine twist and juke her heavy fighter from side to side to avoid the sustained Double-A-S. Around her, four full squadrons of fighters from Mjollnir did the same.

Not all the pilots were as skillful-or as lucky-as she was. Up ahead one of the human Darkets was caught in an energy discharge that consumed the entire craft in an instant, like a moth in a flame, and a pair of Dralthi Fours had already been taken out by defensive missiles. But the attackers plunged ahead, trying to get in close enough to cause the cruiser some serious damage.

Planning for the battle today had posed some serious logistical problems for the Wing Commander. Once surprise was lost, Mjollnir would become the target of increasing numbers of Cat fighters and bombers, no matter how effectively they managed to block the early response to their raid. Flying the Mjollnir’s Kilrathi-built planes too close to the scene of the action was a sure recipe for disaster. In the heat of battle, a pilot, or a point defense emplacement, was apt to focus on the type of craft that came into range without necessarily checking an IFF beacon to decide whose side it might be on. Yet Bondarevsky hadn’t been in any position to sacrifice more than half his available birds from the action.

Thus, the dispositions for the various Mjollnir squadrons. Only the bombers, with a tightly defined mission only they could effectively execute, and Bondarevsky’s stealth fighters playing a game of harassment in close to the dreadnought, were to be employed in the immediate vicinity of the carrier. Hornets, Raptors, and Rapiers would be used for the crucial tasks of protecting Mjollnir and interdicting various possible sources of trouble. The rest of the fighters, the Kilrathi-built planes, had a different mission…to strike any capitol ships that hadn’t been drawn away from the planet by the threat that had erupted near the jump point, the three ships of the battle group under Admiral Richards.

When the outlines for the mission had been mapped out no one had known how many targets they might have to face. As it turned out, there were three Kilrathi capital ships still in high planetary orbit over Baka Kar. One was the carrier that was reading as seriously damaged and unable to effectively power up. The other two were cruisers.

The four fighter squadrons-one of Darkets, two of Dralthi Fours, and the Vaktoths of the Black Leopards-had received orders to concentrate on the closest cruiser in hopes of neutralizing it before it could intervene in the fighting around the station.

But killing a cruiser was no easy task. As the range dropped, another Darket was caught. This time the cruiser only grazed the starboard side of the craft, but it vaporized one wing and the engine mounted there. The craft went into a spin, until the pilot managed to use maneuvering thrusters to stabilize the little fighter. But he had to drop out of the formation and head for home. It was no use fighting a battle when your whole attention had to be taken up trying to keep to a steady vector.

“By the numbers, boys and girls,” Commander Charles Robertson, CO of the Leopards and acting commander of the entire strike element, sounded ready to handle anything, even a cruiser spitting coherent energy in every direction. “Let’s take it to them!”

The Darkets peeled off, circling left, trying to get around toward the stern of the cruiser where there were fewer turrets that could fire on the fragile craft. Robertson’s Strakha, the odd man out of the heavy fighter squadron, took position at the head of a loose cone of Vaktoths and Dralthi Fours and dived straight in, with all beam weapons firing.

The volume of Double-A-S increased as they stooped down on their intended victim, and another fighter, one of the Dralthi Fours, exploded close by Constantine’s Vaktoth. Robertson skimmed low right over the cruiser’s hull, dumping a full load of missiles into her shields and then pulling up.

A point-defense battery tracked his craft, a gatling mass driver that used magnetic fields to accelerate tiny slivers of metal to fantastic velocities. A stream of the deadly projectiles intersected with the Strakha.

Robertson’s voice was loud in her ears. “I’m hit! I’m hit! Tell Mary-”

Then there was silence. Ileana Constantine was the new commander of the Black Leopards.

Strakha 800, VF-401 “Shadow Cats”

Near Orbital Station Asharazhal, Baka Kar System

1238 hours (CST)

“There’s just too damned many of them, Bear. We can’t cover everybody…I don’t have any reserves to send!”

“Stay icy, Bifrost,” Bondarevsky responded. The code name identified the Command and Control element of the wing, one of the Grathas. “We knew we wouldn’t have it all our own way.”

He was paying the price, now, for the decision to take over the Shadow Cats in place of the wounded Travis. The Gratha that Mjollnir had deployed to help coordinate the fighter battle had been his designated place, but instead it was Commander Tomas Alvarez, the Deputy Wing Commander, who had the duty. But Alvarez was finding it difficult to cope with the overwhelming responsibility of trying to manage the far-flung engagement, especially now that the Landreichers were starting to run into increasingly heavy resistance. Commander Babcock was engaged with three times her numbers in low planetary orbit, and had lost three of her fighters in a matter of minutes. And the assault on the cruiser had penetrated her shields, knocking out her maneuver bridge, but at the cost of the detachment CO and several other birds…and the cruiser was still coming, controlled now from her CIC section, no doubt. The Paktahns had finished their strike and were withdrawing to rendezvous with one of the Kofars to rearm, with Montclair taking his Raptors and the squadron of medium Rapiers down to support Babcock. But that left no more reserves. The Wing was stretched to the limit.

Bondarevsky fought the temptation to lead the Strakhas out to support the other squadrons. The two intense battles were too far away…and the primary mission was still to cripple the dreadnought. He couldn’t allow himself to be drawn into a sideshow, no matter how bad things might be getting out there.

And he couldn’t do two jobs at once. He could be either a Wing Commander or a squadron CO, and he’d made that choice when he strapped on the Strakha.

“You have the big picture up there, Bifrost. Not me. I trust you to do the best you can. Loki One, clear.”

He cut the channel and focused on the nearest gun turret. The Strakhas continued their intricate dance, but one short now since Lieutenant Kendricks had come out of cloak just as a point defense battery had opened fire. It wasn’t as bad as with some of the other squadrons, not yet, but Bondarevsky knew that attrition was going to take its toll on all of them soon enough.

The monster Kilrathi warship had cast loose from its moorings now, but it was having trouble maneuvering clear of the station on thrusters alone, and didn’t dare cut in the main engines so close. Meantime Tolwyn was performing brilliantly in Mjollnir. He had fired through the intervening barrier of one of the station’s docking arms, and as the structure had come apart more and more of his shots had dug into the Vorghath’s armor. By that time the Strakha hit and run raids on the turret emplacements had begun to leave gaps in the dreadnought’s forward field of fire, so Tolwyn had shifted his tactics and brought the carrier back into the open. Against the bulk of Vorghath even the supercarrier looked tiny, and the difference in maneuverability and precision of control was immediately plain. Tolwyn took the carrier in to point blank range again, maneuvering Mjollnir like she was a destroyer rather than a carrier, and the damage to her massive opponent began to tell.

He could see Mjollnir’s point-defense batteries firing at the dreadnought again, too, and knew Tolwyn was pressing home the attack with everything he had. Bondarevsky’s sensors showed that one of the Cat cruisers, the one the fighters were having so much trouble with, was coming up fast. Once she got into the action Mjollnir would be in serious trouble. She was still held together mostly by patches and prayers, with much of her armor gone, and a sustained battle with a cruiser could only end one way.

Tolwyn had to deal with the dreadnought before Mjollnir had to fight for her very life…

Combat Information Center, FRLS Mjollnir

Near Orbital Station Asharazhal, Baka Kar System

1238 hours (CST)

“Her armor’s finally going!”

Tolwyn almost joined in the cheer that followed the Exec’s hoarse cry. Kittani, his voice all but gone from barking orders, pointed to the main viewscreen with a savage jabbing of his fingers. The beams were indeed penetrating the dreadnought’s thick belts of armor at last, especially in the area immediately abaft the gaping missile tubes that Tolwyn had singled out for special attention from Deniken’s guns.

“Back us off, Mr. Clancy,” he ordered. “If we’ve got this right, this isn’t going to be a real healthy neighborhood in about another thirty seconds…”

The helmsman played his controls like a musical instrument, and the carrier backed away, gathering speed and turning slowly to accelerate clear. Tolwyn had remembered a briefing on the Kilrathi dreadnoughts that noted the missile tube in the bow, designed for the massive planetary bombardment missiles the Cats used to lay waste to entire cities. And behind the tubes were the magazines, stocking scores of the huge warheads…

The bow of the dreadnought erupted in a fireball, hurtling debris outward like the discharge of a mighty cannon. Mjollnir’s shields held against the battering impact of armor and hullmetal, but the indicators on Tolwyn s status board went red as Graham shunted extra power into the grid to compensate for the sudden unleashing of massive quantities of kinetic energy that threatened to overwhelm the whole system.

Even that blast wasn’t enough to destroy the Vorghath. With her whole front end open to space, spilling atmosphere through a titanic hole framed by twisted structural members and blacked hull plating, the dreadnought still rode on its maneuvering thrusters, trying to come about to give the undamaged midships turrets a crack at the gadfly that had stung her so badly. But though the ship was still capable of moving and fighting, it was clear to Tolwyn that the damage she’d just suffered had been devastating. Secondary explosions were rippling down her side, and the power readings tracked by Mjollnir’s sensors had begun to fluctuate wildly. Even the Kilrathi redundant design philosophy couldn’t build in enough alternate circuits and backups to compensate for such massive damage.

Vorghath would live, but crippled. And with the damage the orbital dock had suffered in the battle it would be a long time before the Cats could manage to restore their dreadnought to anything approaching fighting trim. It would be a job that would make the heroic efforts they’d put in to refitting Mjollnir pale by comparison.

The balance of power was restored. Ragark no longer had his superweapon, and without the orbital dock in working order he’d have trouble keeping the rest of his fleet combat-ready, too. That would give the Landreich breathing space, at least. And the delay would ruin the Belisarius Group’s timetable for precipitating a frontier crisis that could give them their excuse for grabbing power in the Confederation.

Now there remained but one thing to attempt…escape. Mjollnir had done her job as best she could. Now she had to win free of Baka Kar, against overwhelming forces of capital ships who were fully alerted to her presence now and no doubt eager to exact vengeance for the daring raid that had penetrated their defenses.

“Maximum acceleration, Mr. Clancy. Course to the outbound jump point. Mr. Kittani, have the Flight Wing recalled immediately. Fighters to take station and screen us from pursuit.”

“Aye aye, sir,” both men responded.

Mjollnir surged forward at flank speed, but two Kilrathi cruisers were in pursuit, and both of them were fast enough to overtake her sooner or later.

Two Commonwealth cruisers had nearly destroyed the carrier at Vaku, and then the Karga had been in reasonably good shape. This time, a few good hits could take her out of action, and there was nothing Geoff Tolwyn could do to save her if the Cats pressed home their attack. The only hope was Bondarevsky’s fighters, but the fighting around the station had already cut deep into the Wings resources of planes and pilots.

Tolwyn was running out of options, and Mjollnir was running out of time.

Strakha 800, VF-401 “Shadow Cats”

Deep Space, Baka Kar System

1255 hours (CST)

The Strakha nestled in tight against the Kofar resupply shuttle, and for a moment Bondarevsky could relax and take his hands off the controls. As fuel transferred from the Kofar’s huge reserve tank, robot arms swung into position opposite each of the fighter’s hardpoints with missile reloads. Slowly, carefully, they fitted the missiles into position. As each one snapped into place an amber light glowed on Bondarevsky’s weapons control panel, and the onboard computer updated its visual display of his ordnance load.

It seemed an eternity before the last new missile was in place and the fuel tanks registered full again, but in fact it took only a few minutes. Bondarevsky’s was the last of the Strakhas to be re-armed and refueled. The others were already back in formation, covering the withdrawal of the carrier as the two Kilrathi cruisers strained to bring themselves into range to attack.

For the moment it was a stern chase situation, and though the cruisers were faster and more maneuverable the sheer vastness of interplanetary space made it possible for Tolwyn to keep a few steps ahead, shifting his vector at random intervals and forcing the two enemy captains to play guessing games as to the carrier’s intentions. But Mjollnir couldn’t keep it up indefinitely. Soon, now, Tolwyn would have to begin decelerating in order to reach the jump point moving at a relatively low velocity when he engaged his jump drives. A vessel trying to jump while moving at high speeds risked overshooting its destination, or, worse, unbalancing the jump field and ending up breaking apart. Kruger had pulled it off at the Battle of Earth, but still lost several ships doing it. Chief Engineer Graham had already warned Tolwyn that the delicate balance of the carriers rebuilt drives couldn’t sustain any land of high-speed jump attempt. So Mjollnir would have to approach the jump point losing velocity steadily, and that would give the Cats the opportunity they needed to use their greater mobility against the retreating ship.

If the rest of the battle group could join them in time, they might be able to run interference against the Kilrathi pursuit. But Durendal had suffered heavy damage already, and there were several Kilrathi ships trying to come to grips with each of the three Landreichers. The odds would actually get worse as the human ships closed ranks. And they still had close to three hours to go before they reached the jump point. A lot could happen in three hours.

The only other choice Bondarevsky could come up with was one last throw of the dice. Another concerted attack on those closing cruisers with all the fighters remaining in the wing. It would mean more deaths among the Black Cats…but if it could save nearly five thousand aboard the carrier, then the trade-off would be only fair.

“All systems nominal,” he said aloud. “Ready to detach. Thanks for the drink and the handout.”

“All part of the service, friend,” a familiar voice replied. Sparks sounded tired, but still game. “Don’t go using all your new toys up at once, you hear?”

“What are you doing on that Kofar, Sparks?” he demanded.

“It was my turn on the rotation,” she told him.

“Yeah. Right. Aren’t you the one who draws up the rotation schedule in the first place?”

She didn’t reply right away. “I just figured you shouldn’t be the only one who gets to go outside and see the universe, that’s all. You got a problem with that, flyboy?”

“Just make sure you get back in before the fireworks start, Sparks. I wouldn’t want you to get caught in the crossfire.”

“Thanks,” she said. “And…you be careful, too. Come home safe. Not like last time.”

He flexed his bionic hand, thinking of Coventry. He’d been so caught up in the action today he’d barely noticed the wounded arm, or pictured that horrible day when Tolwyn’s Behemoth project had come apart. If he survived today, would the memories of the pilots he lost here at Baka Kar haunt him? Or had he gotten past all that, taking up the Landreich’s struggle?

“Separation in ten…five seconds…three, two, one…” He released the clamps that held his fighter to the Kofar and dropped away under minimal thrust. Below and ahead of him, the rest of the flight wing was forming up. “This is Loki One,” he said. “All planes form on me. We’re going hunting…one last time.”

Flag Bridge, KIS Dubav

Deep Space, Vordran System

1308 hours (CST)

“Decoys!” Ragark slashed the thick padding of his chair arm with outstretched claws, overcome by savage fury. “All this time we have been chasing decoys! While anything could have been happening behind our backs, at Baka Kar!”

The flag bridge’s crew quavered under his angry glare. For nearly four hours the Kilrathi task force had been tracking signals that seemed to emanate from the carrier they had come in search of. They might have searched for hours longer, if a lucky fighter patrol hadn’t picked up the electronic warfare craft at close range and moved in for the kill. Thereafter a second signal source had been spotted, and this time, knowing what to look for, the computer analysts had identified the trace as coming from another Zartoth.

But Ragark had lost four hours chasing shadows, and time was the one thing he didn’t have to make up.

“Set course for the jump point to Baka Kar,” he ordered. “Best possible speed. Now!”

Combat Information Center, FRLS Mjollnir

Deep Space, Baka Kar System

1345 hours

“Roll out! Roll out! I’ll take him!”

“Where the hell are you, Doomsday? You gotta get this bastard off my tail!”

“Bombers, start your run. We’ll hold these guys off as long as we can…”

Tolwyn listened to the commlink chatter, wishing there was something more he could do, knowing the pilots of the Black Cats were out there risking their lives to defend the carrier. Bondarevsky had thrown his fighters into the attack three times now, but the cruisers kept coming. And now they’d acquired a fighter escort, more of the aerospace defense force scrambled from the planet’s surface. One of the two cruisers had taken a serious hit to its maneuver drives, and was beginning to fall behind now. But the other had closed the range relentlessly. It had already started taking shots at Mjollnir, and the shields were weakening in several sections.

“You take the Darket, Lefty. I’m on this Dralthi.”

“Scratch another one. Hey, Babe, this is better than simulator target practice. They just keep right on coming!”

“Shut up and watch your six, Lefty. I’m-shit! Shit! Where the hell did he-”

“God damn. They got Babe!”

Tolwyn closed his eyes. He remembered Babcock from the first days of Goliath. Competent, professional, a little edgy around the brass, maybe, but she should have had a promising career ahead of her. One day she might have commanded a carrier, even a battle group, herself.

Now she was gone.

“Cossack, make it look good,” Bondarevsky’s voice came over the commlink clearly. He sounded tense, but in control. “I want every one of those bombs to count. We’re all down to our last loads, and these Cats are in too close to let us rearm on the fly again.”

“Understood,” Commander Razin replied. “Pumas, follow me in!”

Tolwyn looked at the tactical screen. Bondarevsky was making a last big push on the remaining cruiser, using the bulk of his fighters to engage the Kilrathi fighter screen and sending in the Paktahn bombers unescorted. It was a damned risky move, but if it worked…

The cruiser opened fire on Mjollnir again. An alarm shrilled, and Kittani’s hoarse voice rasped as he tried to shout a warning. “Hull breach! Hull breach! Aft superstructure! Get me damage control parties to decks three through seven to seal off those compartments! Mr. Graham, shields are down over the aft superstructure!”

“I’m on it! Give me ten minutes!”

“We don’t have ten minutes, Mr. Graham,” the Turk barked. “Make it five! And pray to Allah that won’t be too long!”

Strakha 800, VF-401 “Shadow Cats”

Deep Space, Baka Kar System

1349 hours (CST)

A laser cut through space scant meters away from Bondarevskys fighter, far too close for comfort. The cruiser’s attack was directed at the carrier now, trying to exploit the advantage from that last hit. But this beam caught one of the other Strakhas in the squadron. It shimmered into visibility as it came apart.

Bondarevsky gritted his teeth and pushed his throttle forward.

The Paktahn bombers were releasing their loads in one massive, rippling salvo, trying to overload the cruiser’s point defenses. Racing past them, Bondarevsky decloaked his Strakha as the point defense lasers opened up against the inrushing torpedoes. The rest of the surviving Strakhas appeared almost as one alongside, and opened fire at close range with their meson guns.

The computer controlled point defense was already committed to dealing with the threat posed by the torpedoes, and couldn’t reassess targeting priorities in time to stop the devastating attack. Concentrated energy poured down on the cruiser’s raised superstructure. Suddenly, incredibly, the shields went down, and the meson beams broke through armor to penetrate the hull in five places.

Aengus Harper bellowed the chorus to “Rising of the Moon” as he launched all his remaining missiles at the battered cruiser. Then the Strakhas were past her. As they turned, the cruiser’s superstructure exploded, and the ship seemed to stagger in space from the fury of the blast.

“Disengage!” Bondarevsky shouted. “Disengage!”

Combat Information Center, FRLS Mjollnir

Deep Space, Baka Kar System

1351 hours (CST)

A cheer went around CIC as the Flight Wing’s attack struck home and the power readings from the last pursuing cruiser dropped to near zero in a matter of seconds. Tolwyn felt like joining in. Mjollnir would still have to run the gauntlet to reach the jump point, but none of the other Cat ships was placed to give them the same amount of trouble as that cruiser.

A smile was just beginning to form on his lips as he started to phrase a congratulatory message for Bondarevsky, but it was cut short by a cry from the sensor technician.

“Disturbance in the jump point. Multiple targets coming through…”

Kittani leaned over the technician’s chair to read the incoming data. “Multiple readings. I count four escort carriers…ten cruisers…twenty-six destroyers…configuration is Kilrathi. IFF beacons are Kilrathi… It’s Ragark’s fleet.“ He paused. ”I guess Allah wasn’t listening to prayers, today.”

Bridge, FRLS Xenophon

Jump Point Three, Baka Kar System

1404 hours (CST)

“Multiple contacts! They’re coming out all around us!”

Admiral Vance Richards gripped the arms of the seat he had appropriated from a junior communications officer and leaned forward to squint at the tactical monitor over the shoulder of Captain Forbes. Xenophon had never been intended as a flagship, and lacked a flag bridge where he and his staff could have monitored bridge operations and directed the battle group at the same time.

But even at his awkward angle he could read the displays well enough to recognize those newcomers as Kilrathi.

The three Landreich ships had evaded their pursuers for perhaps the hundredth time since the start of their strange engagement, half battle, half dance. Only Bikina’s Durendal had come close enough to take hits, and the wiry little mercenary had shrugged off the pounding she’d taken as “a little dent in the finish.” They had offered to join Tolwyn and Mjollnir, but the carrier captain had decided that would only draw more unwanted attention his way. So they’d formed up near the jump point, ready to start their whole evasive maneuvering all over again if the Cats made another try at them in the hours left before Mjollnir joined them and they could try to duck out through the hyperrealm.

But instead, in an instant, everything had gone wrong.

“Carriers are launching fighters,” someone reported. They must have been prepped and ready to fly the instant they got over their jumpshock.“

Forbes looked at the Admiral. “There’s not too damn much we can do, sir,” he said, sounding apologetic.

Richards nodded. Caught at very nearly a dead stop, with Kilrathi ships all around them, they’d never win free. Durendal was a goner, too, no doubt about that. Her damage had included a couple of hits to her maneuver drive, and she would be hard-pressed to make good an escape. Collins in Caliburn might have a chance. She was the furthest out from the jump point, and if she acted fast she might be able to accelerate quickly enough to get clear while the enemy was concentrating on Xenophon. But of course the Cats could bottle the Landreichers up in the system as long as they maintained their position. Neither Mjollnir nor Caliburn was likely to escape in the end. There weren’t even many jump points leading out for them to choose from. This one led to Vordran. The other two led deep into the Hralgkrak province, behind enemy lines.

“Give them the best show you can, Captain,” he said at length. “I want Ragark to pay for his entertainment.”

Flag Bridge, KIS Dubav

Jump Point Three, Baka Kar System

1407 hours (CST)

“Concentrate on the cruiser,” Ukar dai Ragark ordered. “The destroyer isn’t important.”

“Yes, Lord Admiral,” the leader of the assault flight responded. The comm channel went dark.

“General Order to the Task Force,” Ragark went on. “All ships to remain immobile around the jump point until further orders are received.”

“Yes, Lord Admiral.”

It was usually poor tactics to let an opponent get an advantage in velocity, but in this case keeping the fleet in position was the best possible option. The apes would have to slow down as they approached the jump point, and when they did they would be sailing right into the guns of his task force. In the time it took them to get past, the human ships would be pounded into space dust.

The humans would pay for raiding Ukar dai Ragark’s world this day.

Combat Information Center, FRLS Mjollnir

Deep Space, Baka Kar System

1412 hours (CST)

There was dead silence in CIC as they watched Xenophon’s last fight, helpless to intervene, helpless to do anything but watch as Ragark’s fighters swept in and hammered the light cruiser. They had thrown up a heavy jamming field around her, too, so they couldn’t even raise Forbes or Richards to speak to the men one last time.

It came to an end far more quickly than Bondarevsky’s fight with the two Kilrathi cruisers had. One moment Xenophon was still alive, lashing out at any craft impudent enough to approach too close. The next minute…nothing. The ship was just gone.

And with it, one of Tolwyn’s best friends. Admiral Vance Richards had been a good man, for all his faults, and Tolwyn would always remember him as a man of principle and honor. He had a flash memory of before the war, when they were both newly minted young gentlemen and together they had gone on their first mission.

“God’s speed, Vance,” he whispered.

He frowned at the tactical display. Ragark had left them with no real options at all. They could run, and be pursued, and sooner or later the Mjollnir would be cornered and destroyed. Or they could try to get through Ragark’s lines to jump out, but the punishment they would take would be far too much for Mjollnir to handle.

Or they could just go down fighting, and take as many of Ragark’s ships with them as they could.

Tolwyn straightened in his chair. There was really only one choice he could make.

Combat Information Center, FRLS Mjollnir

Deep Space, Baka Kar System

1527 hours (CST)

The door to CIC slid open soundlessly, and Bondarevsky stepped into the dim-lit command center, every step weighed down by fatigue. It had been a long day… and it wasn’t over yet.

Tolwyn looked up as he came in. “Good job out there, Jason. A damned good job. Your people did us proud today.”

“Thank you, sir. I wish we could have done…more.” He knew there was no way the flight wing could have helped Richards and the Xenophon, but that didn’t make it any easier to accept the old spymaster’s death.

Now there was nothing more the flight wing could do, at all. Tolwyn had announced his intention of taking on Ragark’s fleet head-on, and Bondarevsky had been ready to lead his fighters out yet again to the attack. But as Tolwyn pointed out there was still an outside chance they might reach the jump point, and if so they couldn’t very well stop and take on planes before they made good their escape. The only fighters on board capable of jump were the four surviving Vaktoths, hardly enough to challenge the flight wings of four escort carriers.

So Bondarevsky’s pilots would have to ride out the last action aboard Mjollnir, passengers for a change. It was probably just as well, at that. The port side flight deck had been put out of action when a returning bomber had lost control at the last minute on final approach. The damage there wasn’t quite as bad as what they’d found when they’d first surveyed her, but Mjollnir’s launch and retrieval cycle would be severely hampered until they could get a chance to make fresh repairs.

Bondarevsky almost laughed out loud. It was a fine time to be thinking about future repair jobs. If there was anything left to salvage, the Cats would get it.

“Any word on the others, sir?” he asked quietly.

“Durendal went down fighting,” Tolwyn told him. “Collins slipped away, but she’s got a pair of destroyers chasing her. How long she can hold out…that’s anybody’s guess.”

“Then-”

His next comment was cut off by a call from the sensor station. “More disturbances in the jump point, sir. Multiple targets again… My God, sir, they’re ours! Landreich ships!”

Kittani was reading off the information from incoming transponder beacons. “That’s Independence…Magna Carta…Arbroath. The whole carrier fleet! Themistocles…”

“They’re right in the middle of the Cat fleet,” Clancy said in hushed tones. “I hope to God they can get clear.”

“Look at the vectors, Mr. Clancy,” Tolwyn said. “They came through the jump point under power. By the time the Cats react they’ll be at the edge of weapon’s range…”

Bondarevsky met his eyes. “My God, it’s Kruger. It’s got to be Kruger.”

Bridge, FRLS Independence

Jump Point Three, Baka Kar System

1530 hours (CST)

Max Kruger had the command chair, and it felt good. He’d been forced to relieve Galbraith of duty after the politician’s son had tried to resist the order to get under way for Vordran, and it seemed safest to take command himself rather than entrust it to any of Galbraith’s officers. Actually, most of them seemed happy to follow his lead, especially Commander Roth.

They had reached the Vordran belt in time to discover two of Mjollnir’s planes, a Zartoth and a Kofar. Cynthia Hall, the Zartoth pilot, had reported another electronic warfare plane had been destroyed by a Kilrathi patrol, and the Cats had gone through the jump point. Ragark had taken a lead of over an hour, but thanks to the delaying tactics the two pilots had executed so successfully it hadn’t been closer to six hours.

Kruger studied the tactical board and nodded his satisfaction. Their initial velocity hadn’t been all that high. They had only gone about ten percent over the margins specified in most of the safety handbooks. But it had been enough to allow them to pass through the Kilrathi ships stationed around the jump point, despite the disorientation of jumpshock, before the Cats could react and open fire. Kruger hadn’t known what to expect on this side of the hyperrealm, but he’d tried to be prepared for every contingency. It had paid off.

His intercom lit up to reveal Kevin Tolwyn’s face, still bleary-eyed from jumpshock. “Place is lousy with Cats, Mr. President. You want us to launch and see what we can do with ’em?”

Kruger shook his head. “Not at the moment, Captain,” he said. “I think Ragark won’t be sticking around long enough for a battle.”

Flag Bridge, KIS Dubav

Deep Space, Baka Kar System

1534 hours (CST)

“Vraxar!” Ragark cursed. The apes had outmaneuvered him. His revenge would have to be postponed.

The position had been perfect for interdicting the escape of the two surviving Landreich ships, and after hearing reports from Dawx Jhorrad and the commander of the orbital station Ragark had been more determined than ever to obtain vengeance from the hairless freaks who had attacked his stronghold. Vorghath was crippled, unable to maintain shields, his whole front end twisted and gaping wide like the toothless mouth of a worthless old kil. And the station…the launch bays would be out of service for many eight-days, and half the repair facilities were destroyed or badly damaged. In one raid the humans had set back his program by a year or more.

But now he wouldn’t even have the satisfaction of vengeance. Not with the human fleet between him and Baka Kar. If he remained here to maintain the trap, they could attack the capital with impunity, and if one shipload had done as much damage as that captured supercarrier had managed, what could an entire task force do? Dividing his forces to try to maintain the blockade of the jump point while also attempting to save Baka Kar would only expose his fleet to the possibility of defeat in detail.

Or he could pursue the new arrivals, giving up the blockade entirely. And the humans would escape. Once the Kilrathi were committed to the pursuit, it would be easy enough for the apes to win back and jump to Vordran once more.

Anger burned in his stomach, pure, raw hatred. It redoubled as the Communications Officer announced, “The human leader wishes to discuss the tactical situation, Lord Admiral.”

The ape knew the dilemma Ragark faced. There was no point in pursuing the charade any longer.

But Ukar dai Ragark would not forget this day.