command frequency radio broadcasts.
We can't take any more of this!' the human commander was saying. 'All ships, break off and withdraw! Break off while you still can!'
That was what Arrak had been waiting to hear. The Terrans put up a good fight, but they were outnumbered and outgunned, and he knew they would be stretched too thin sooner or later. This was his chance.
'They are beginning to withdraw,' he said, the battle madness singing inside him. Concentrate fire on the carrier. We will deal with the apes once the capital ship is destroyed!'
On his tactical screen, the Terran fighters were breaking off to flee past the covering bulk of the carrier. Arrak showed his fangs and pushed his throttles forward. He sensed a moment's regret that he was unable to corner the ship he had identified as the renegade's, but his duty now was clear.
The renegade would still be out there, and helpless, once the carrier was destroyed.
'Talons of the Emperor!' he called, the old battle cry making him tremble with anticipation of glory. 'Attack! Attack! Attack!'
CHAPTER VII
'They're heading in,' Blair said. 'Look sharp, people.' On his screen, he saw the blips representing the Kilrathi attack force gathering speed as they advanced toward the Victory. With the Terran fighters withdrawing from the battle, the Kilrathi could begin high-speed attack runs on the carrier, using maneuverability and velocity to evade the beams from the capital ship's defensive batteries. It was exactly the kind of situation every pilot hoped for: a big, clumsy carrier stripped of its defensive fighters and lying almost helpless against a massed bombing run.
Only this time, the carrier wouldn't be quite as helpless as she appeared . . .
'Captain says any time you're ready, Colonel,' Rollins said, a note of worry creeping into his voice.
He didn't let the lieutenant's fears push him into acting too soon. Blair checked his sensors again, saw the four interceptors beginning their swing to bring them squarely behind the attackers. His own fighters had started this maneuver feigning panic and disorder, but now they were beginning to reform into four distinct groups.
The time was almost right . . .
'Execute!' He almost shouted the order as he wrenched the steering yoke fiercely and advanced the throttles into the afterburner red zone again. By the time this counterthrust was over he would be nearly dry again, but hopefully none of the Confed fighters would need any fuel reserves after this. 'Execute turn and attack at will!'
Inevitably, someone — it sounded like Maniac — gave a whoop and shouted 'Who's Will?' Blair ignored it and concentrated on the enemy ships clustered ahead.
The carrier opened fire with a barrage from her main batteries. One of the attackers flew straight into the beams. It came apart, looking like a spectacular fireball that seemed to herald the beginning of the new phase of this savage fight.
Blair hoped it would be the final phase.
'It is a trap! The apes have set a trap!'
Arrak somehow refrained from cursing or snarling, but despite his control he still thought longingly of sinking his fangs into the neck of the pilot, whoever he was who filled the comm channel with his inspired revelations of the obvious. Yes, the apes had set a trap, drawn his fighters in closer to the Terran carrier where they would be caught between the capital ship's big guns and four . . . no, make it five converging groups of fighters. There were more Confederation craft out there now, a whole new group that had not been in the fight until now. It was a masterful trap, worthy of a Kilrathi hunter.
'Break off!' he snarled. 'Break off the action against the carrier and regroup. It seems we have to give the hairless apes another lesson before we can finish this.'
Then he had no more time for talk. A pair of heavy Terran fighters suddenly appeared out of nowhere and were trying to lock onto him from the rear. Arrak needed all his skill and concentration to keep the enemy from winning that decisive advantage. He pulled a tight, high-G turn to starboard, using his attitude thruster to make the Dralthi swing around even faster, and opened fire with all guns at once. The Terran fighters shields absorbed most of the damage, but his sensors registered a hit against the underlying armor as well.
'You fly well,' the Terran pilot commented, using the standard Imperial tactical band. 'Are you worth fighting? Declare yourself if you wish the honor of battle with Ralgha nar Hhallas.'
Arrak showed his fangs under his flight helmet. The renegade! He couldn't reply, lest he reveal to his superiors his disobedience of standing orders, but he could defend himself against the enemy attack . . .
The Kilrathi passed mere meters from the Terran fighter, close enough to see the bulky spacesuited shape of his adversary through the viewport.
It would be a battle to remember.
'A hit! A hit! That'll show the kitty who's the boss!'
'Rein it in, Maniac, and do your job,' Blair snapped. He lined up a shot and launched a heat-seeker at the nearest Darket, his eyes already searching the sensor screen for a fresh target. He hardly needed to look to know when the lighter Kilrathi ship blew up. He had encountered these fighters often enough over the years to know just about what level of punishment they could take, and he was rarely wrong.
Close by, Flint was heavily engaged with a Dralthi, the two fighters weaving a complex pattern as they circled and dodged, looking for a moment's advantage to administer a lethal strike.
'You need an assist, Flint?' Blair asked, steering toward the dogfighters.
The Thunderbolt delivered a sustained burst of energy beams at the Dralthi and dived in hard and fast. 'Find your own party, Colonel,' Flint said. 'This furball is all mine!'
A pair of missiles streaked from the underside of her wings and struck home just above the Dralthis engine mountings. An expanding ball of superheated gas and whirling debris consumed the Kilrathi ship, and Peters drove her Thunderbolt straight through the fireball with a triumphant shout, 'Yes! That's another one for you, Davie!'
Blair wondered who she was talking about or to, but only for a moment. His attention returned to the monitor showing the Terran trap closing perfectly. By having Rollins pass his orders by tight-beam communications links, he was able to prime the entire Terran force to fall back on his broadcast command. It looked and sounded
