“Another Sabre is down,” Wright said quietly.
Tehrani was the only one who could hear him above the din of soldiers calling information to one another. She turned her head. “Who?”
“Alpha One. Lieutenant Spencer.”
“That’s three.”
Wright nodded. “Felder, Jenkins, and Spencer. Two Sabres and a Boar.”
“Recovery beacons?”
“Only on Spencer. The other two were total loss of craft with no ejection triggered.” Wright furrowed his brow. “I already looked at search and rescue. It’s far too hot out there to send the SAR bird out.”
“I know.” Tehrani shook her head. “We can’t just leave him out there.”
“We might have to leave all of them.”
While Tehrani knew Wright was doing his job as the XO, something about it all bothered her to her core. The concept of the CDF not having enough ships to handle the required missions and sorties was something she’d never considered until the last few weeks. I remember seeing the massive fleet formations at Valient Shield. A part of her wanted to hate the politicians that let it get so bad, but they couldn’t have envisioned a surprise attack from an enemy as powerful as the League.
“Conn, TAO. Aspect change, Master Five. Contact is reversing course and coming back around. Sierra contacts in her path have extensive shield damage.”
Without their protective screens, the freighters in the convoy had almost no armor. They would be shredded in moments by military firepower.
Tehrani set her jaw. “Navigation, intercept course, Master Five. Put us between them and Sierra Fifteen, Sixteen, and Nineteen.”
“Aye, aye, ma’am,” Mitzner replied.
“TAO, firing point procedures, forward neutron beams, Master Five.”
“Firing solutions set, ma’am,” Bryan said. “Coordinating our attack pattern with Sierra One.”
Pleased she didn’t have to tell her tactical action officer to make sure they struck simultaneously with the Marcus Luttrell, Tehrani smiled. “Wait for point-blank range. I want this bastard.”
Bryan turned and grinned at her. “Aye, aye, ma’am.”
The League destroyer raced onward. It filled the blackness of the void with an array of red beams, plasma balls, and point-defense fire, much of which struck home against the civilian freighters. An ore carrier suffered a complete loss of its two aft holds, sending a dense cloud of metal-alloy fragments into space.
On the screen above Tehrani’s head, Master Five finally entered optimal weapons range. She double-checked to ensure the Marcus Luttrell was in arc. “TAO, match bearings, shoot, forward neutron beams in conjunction with an alpha strike from Sierra One.”
“Aye, aye, ma’am.”
Magnetic-cannon shells raced away from the Marcus Luttrell along with a barrage of missiles and the vessel’s neutron-beam compliment. Added to the fray were the Greengold’s twin neutron beams, which struck home in the same shield quadrant. The Cobra’s shields glowed bright red under repeated hits then failed, allowing missile strikes and neutron beams to slam into its brittle armor and hull. One of the blue beams bored through the entirety of the ship and out the other side. Explosions blossomed from the molten hole and spread across the vessel until it blew apart from within.
“Conn, TAO. Master Five destroyed, ma’am.”
“Nice job, skipper,” Wright said under his breath. “Got any more rabbits to pull out of your cover?”
Tehrani stared at him. “Eh?”
“American idiom. Magicians used to pull animals, usually rabbits, out of hats for tricks.” Wright smiled. “I grew up watching those old shows. Loved ’em.”
“Interesting,” she replied. “I’m not sure. We’re about to find out how good our bombers and those Boar assault crafts are.” Tehrani touched the Rand’s icon. “TAO, designate Master Four as the priority target for the fleet. Send everything.”
“Should I have the air boss warm up more bombers?”
“Good idea, XO,” Tehrani said. She narrowed her eyes as she stared at the screen. “Heavy cruiser is entering firing range… now.”
As if right on cue, the Rand opened up with everything it had. Dozens of the ubiquitous red plasma balls issued from its turrets along with anti-ship missiles and red energy beams. Thanks to the extreme range, it took a few moments for its target to become apparent—the ore carrier that had already sustained severe damage.
“Order Sierra Fifteen to abandon ship immediately,” Tehrani said, alarmed.
“Aye, aye, ma’am,” Wright replied.
The assault on the massive ore carrier continued. Because of the vessel’s modular design, most of the League shots, while causing extensive hull damage, hit the cargo bays and not the ship’s critical parts, such as its reactor and the engine housings.
As plasma balls blasted into the superstructure of the freighter, the Glasgow came up alongside it. The Argyle-class frigate extended her shields around the civilian vessel, temporarily stopping the barrage.
“Way to go,” Wright said with a grin. “Sierra Fifteen reports thirty seconds to last escape pod launch.”
Tehrani nodded tightly, her eyes transfixed on the tactical plot. “Communications, order the Glasgow to break off the moment Sierra Fifteen is evacuated.”
Her concern was well-founded. While the ore carrier could absorb a lot of punishment, the same couldn’t be said for the small frigate. The Rand lashed at its shields with a wave of plasma balls, successfully hammering them down. It followed up much like the Terran ships would, with a volley of anti-ship missiles and red neutron beams. One speared the vessel from end to end and must’ve hit a fuel bunkerage or the reactor. The Glasgow blew apart in ten seconds, leaving nothing but fine dust particles in its wake.
Whatever feeling of victory or relief had been present on the bridge of the Zvika Greengold evaporated like water poured out on a molten planet. Wright stared at the tactical plot with his mouth open. It seemed as if he was trying to get sound out, but none would come.
“At least they accomplished saving the civilian crew,” Tehrani said finally. “They did their duty,
