“Aye, aye, ma’am.”
Two blue beams stabbed out from the Greengold and speared the League destroyer. They burned through the brittle armor, bored through the hull, and erupted out of the other side of the hapless vessel. A series of secondary explosions started small then blossomed into an explosive wave that blew the ship apart.
“Conn, TAO, Master Two destroyed.”
A few cheers rang out on the bridge before a sharp-tongued senior enlisted soldier barked, “As you were. Maintain focus!”
Tehrani stared at the plot, which showed the few remaining enemy fighters being run down by Alpha element and its expertly flown Sabres. She breathed a sigh of relief and glanced at the readout for the shipyard—damaged but still in one piece. “Well, that was a nice change of pace,” she said with a smirk in Wright’s direction.
“Makes me begin to believe we’ll beat these guys in no time,” Wright replied. “Though trying to keep a damper—”
“Conn, TAO. Aspect change, inbound wormhole.” Bryan interrupted. A moment passed. “League signature, ma’am. I’m showing a frigate at heading two-seven-eight, range seventy kilometers. She’s right on top of us.” He took a breath. “Contact designated as Master Four.”
I knew it was too good to be true. “TAO, designate Master Four as the primary target for all friendly forces.”
“Aye, aye, ma’am.” A few seconds later, Bryan spoke again. “Conn, TAO. Aspect change, inbound wormholes!” His voice tensed as he spoke. “New contacts… two heavy cruisers, designated Master Five and Six. They’re targeting Sierra One, ma’am.”
For a moment, Tehrani’s tongue caught in her throat. Two heavy cruisers? They’d barely taken one out—with help—in the last engagement. If we lose this shipyard, it will cripple our ship-repair capabilities in Canaan. Why hasn’t Command sent more help? She pushed the thoughts out of her mind and focused on the battle. One problem at a time. “Communications, direct the Marcus Luttrell to engage…” She glanced at the plot for a moment. “Master Five.”
“Aye, aye, ma’am.”
“What’s on the flight line and at ready five, XO?”
“Four Mauler bombers… Delta element, ma’am,” Wright replied. He paused and leaned closer. “We need reinforcements. There’s no way our task force will defeat two capital ships.”
Tehrani set her jaw and whispered back, “We can’t abandon the shipyard. Get those bombers in space now.” She turned toward Singh. “Communications, request immediate reinforcements from General Irvine’s command.”
A short distance away, Justin stared numbly at the battlefield. Fresh League fighters streamed out of the shuttle bays on both newly arrived heavy cruisers, complicating an already-dangerous tactical situation. The only support forthcoming from the Zvika Greengold was another element of bombers. He steeled himself for another fast-paced dogfight. “This is Spencer to Alpha flight. Form on me and prepare to engage hostiles bearing zero-one-zero, two clicks out. We’ll take a run at the ones attacking the Maulers first.”
“Understood, Alpha One,” Feldstein replied.
“This is what I call a target-rich environment,” Mateus cracked. “At this rate, I’ll be a triple ace before the day’s out.”
“Or in a pine box,” Justin said darkly. “This is for keeps, people. Keep it tight and watch your six.”
On Justin’s HUD, a group of eight League craft headed straight for his Sabre element, while others peeled off and zoomed away toward the bombers. Damn, this is going to get hairy. He clicked the safety to his neutron cannons off. “All fighters, break and engage.”
“Conn, TAO. Forward shields at sixty-eight percent effectiveness. Master Five and Six coming about to engage us on our fore quarter,” Bryan said, his voice carrying across the bridge of the Zvika Greengold.
The deck plates rumbled and vibrated as more plasma cannon blasts and a few missiles made it through their point-defense screen.
Tehrani adjusted her safety harness and stared at the tactical plot then lifted her head and made eye contact with Wright. “If we adjust our heading here,” she said as she touched the screen, “our bombers and the Marcus Luttrell could focus-fire everything they’ve got on Master Five. Do you see anything I’m missing?”
Wright shook his head. “No, ma’am. The only emergency ripcord I can think of is launching all of our small craft.”
“Which we want to avoid at all costs to deal with whatever comes next.”
“Yup. Don’t you wish we were on a Saratoga-class carrier about now?”
Tehrani smiled. “Too big and impersonal. I enjoy knowing the life history of every officer and most senior enlisted personnel under my command.” She turned back to the front, all business. “Navigation, adjust heading to zero-eight-five, mark zero. Increase thrust to flank.”
“Aye, aye, ma’am.”
“TAO, designate Master Five as the priority target for all friendly bombers and inform Sierra One of our new course and speed.”
Arrington is a good-enough ship driver that I don’t have to spell this out for him. Tehrani noted with satisfaction that as they turned, so did the Marcus Luttrell and both Epsilon and Delta elements. Eight Mauler bombers went straight for the League heavy cruiser, while the Luttrell provided fire support. Magnetic cannon shells, neutron beams, and anti-ship missiles crisscrossed space with red plasma balls and the Leaguers’ versions of directed energy weapons. It inflicted significant damage on the enemy’s shields, but they held. Both bomber elements accelerated away for another pass.
“Conn, TAO. Aspect change, inbound wormhole,” Bryan began. “CDF signature… Argyle-class frigate, CSV Sheffield, designated as Sierra Two. She’s dropping out off the port bow, ma’am.”
What in the heck are they doing here? Tehrani’s mind raced with alarm. She’d warned the frigates off because they had limited weaponry and were of little use against a heavy cruiser.
To her concern, almost immediately, the two capital ships shifted their focus to the new friendly contact. Crucially, they landed several hits on the Sheffield’s hull before she could raise her shields. The tactical plot updated with an icon showing primary-systems failure on the frigate.
“Navigation, bring us about. Intercept course on Sierra Two, flank speed.”
“Skipper?” Wright asked.
“We have to get close enough
