Jason looked back at the tactical.
The enemy carrier was turning hard over to port, now moving away at a right angle, debris trailing out behind her as she struggled to accelerate. The other carrier was coming around to flank the stricken ship. The enemy picket line was now racing full back, coming abreast of their two surviving carriers and moving to pursuit.
'Helm, prepare to come about for a second strike,' Jason announced, and his crew looked up at him, startled.
He knew it was madness, but they had not finished the carrier off and he'd be damned if it was going to get away.
'All ships follow me,'
Jason looked up at Kruger's image and then back at tactical.
Kruger was moving straight away from the engagement, heading back towards the Hell Hole.
'Get me Kruger,' Jason snapped.
The old man's image reappeared, looking annoyed.
'Let's finish em, sir, he's crippled.'
'We killed one, we crippled another and lost one escort,' Kruger snapped. 'Go back and we'll lose the rest of our escorts just to finish a kill. We want him crippled. They'll have to protect him. Bondarevsky, I'm breaking the engagement. We got what we wanted, they'll run for home now. Hell Hole is still under bombardment and that's our main priority now. '
'Aye, sir.'
The image winked off.
Jason took a deep breath, realizing that the excitement of the charge and the lust of battle had clouded his judgment
'Belay helm over, lock on Blitzkreig and follow.'
He could see that some of his crew were disappointed while others took a sigh of relief
'Damn good, I'm proud of all of you,' he announced and then settled back into his command chair.
He looked up at the chronometer.
It was less than six minutes since they had jumped through, undoubtedly one of the shortest fleet actions in history. Kruger had lived up to form, shattering an invasion, killing a carrier, and crippling another. He had certainly taken them in harm's way.
The question now was, what would Kruger do next?
'Signal all fighters, return to your ships for recovery.'
Admiral Tolwyn stood silently, watching the display screen.
It had been a standoff for more than a day. They had met the four enemy carriers just inside the Warsaw system, his fleet and theirs arriving at opposite jump points almost simultaneously.
He had raced to cover Warsaw but the Kilrathi carriers had held back, staying close to the jump point.
The question had been whether to close and engage, or wait. It could be that they were holding at the edge of the jump point, waiting to lure him in and then the main Kilrathi fleet would jump through. A listening post inside the next system had managed to get out a brief burst signal, reporting the transit of more than thirty escort ships and then had gone off line. It could only mean that the main fleet was coming up fast. Yet if he did advance and close for action there was a chance to meet the enemy three on four, with the possible edge that the pilots aboard the enemy ships were not their first line Guard fighters.
He had opted for action, but with the stipulation that his carriers would not close within ten million clicks and engage at long range only with fighters.
The action had been inconclusive throughout the day, with the loss of thirty-eight fighters in exchange for two hits on a carrier with moderate damage, and three enemy frigates destroyed in return for one hit on Moskva and a destroyer lost.
But now there was no longer a question as to Prince Thrakhath's strategy. He was indeed coming straight on.
For the last hour, the jump point covered by the carriers had disgorged destroyers, frigates, fuel tankers, and supply ships. And now at last the first of the new carriers had emerged.
His intelligence officer passed up a continual stream of reports, the hazy images from Paladin's recon scan, replaced now by clear optical and radar images passed up by light Ferret recon fighters moving back from the edge of the fleet.
Tolwyn continued to pull back, his fighters coming in to land, a screen of escort ships guarding the sterns of the carriers from enemy fighters, while dropping out a spray of porcupine mines to slow the relentless advance of the enemy fleet.
A fourth carrier appeared and then a fifth, each of them identical, each of them terrifying.
'Sir, we are receiving a hailing from the Kilrathi fleet.
'What?'
The communications officer looked back at his console for a moment and then turned again to Tolwyn.
'Confirmed, sir. It's an in the clear translight signal from their fleet.'
'I'll take it in my office.'
He left the bridge and stepped into his wardroom. He spared a quick glance at a mirror. The circles under his eyes would tell of his exhaustion but there was no helping it.
He settled into his chair and punched the holo screen to life.
'Go ahead, comm, patch it in.'
The image of Baron Jukaga appeared.
'Ah, Admiral Tolwyn, our intelligence reports said that you were in command of Third Fleet. My congratulations on your promotion. We have always admired you as perhaps the best of the fighting admirals of the Confederation.'
'What do you want, Baron?' Geoff replied coldly.
'Your surrender.'
'I'm a military man, not a diplomat, Baron. Direct your inquiry to President Quinson. I'm sure he will tell you to go perform a certain impossible anatomical act.'
The Baron chuckled.
'You humans and your sexual obsession. So strange, we must discuss the differences some time. But I am asking a military question, Admiral. I'm not demanding the surrender of your Confederation, merely your fleet.'
Geoff replied with what he assumed the President would have said.
'Such crudity, Admiral it's not becoming of one of your breeding and education. You and I are alike in our study of human warfare. It creates a bond between the two of us, a bond I should add that I feel is even stronger towards you than to many of my own species. It would be distressing to see you defeated and dead.'
'You assume too much, Baron. Do not worry about my death until it is accomplished, but instead worry about your own.
'Touched. But come, can't we reason this disagreement out?'
Geoff laughed coldly.
'My government was stupid enough to believe you once. It'll be a very cold day in hell before we believe you again. This time the fight's to the death, no quarter asked or expected.'
'A shame you put it that way.'
'No, I want it that way, Geoff snarled, angry with himself that he was losing his temper. 'You murdered my closest friends in your bomb plot. I heard as well about your attempt on the Emperor. I'm surprised they didn't rip your guts out for that, you utak.'
He deliberately chose the Kilrathi word used to describe the lowest caste member of Kilrah society, the cleaners of privy pits for fertilizer, one considered so untouchable that it was a defilement if his shadow even touched the shadow of anyone of a higher class.
He could see that the word caused Jukaga to bristle.
'I'm surprised the Emperor even allowed one such as you to live. I've heard that assassination is all but unknown in your society. It seems you learned it from us. You know nothing of us. You learned but the worst and learned none of the best. You are beneath the contempt of both my race and yours.
