fighter escort to move out ahead of us,” Giraurd said. “They will be our wedge to sweep the enemy aside. Order them to fire only if they are fired upon.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And accelerate to combat speed.”
“Yes, Grand Admiral.”
Giraurd smiled. They would end this standoff soon enough. Koenig was a fool if he thought he could make military policy for the Confederation. The Jeanne d’Arc would push through Koenig’s outer screen, close with America , and put boarding parties across to capture Koenig and take command of his fleet.
And then they could all go home.
VFA-44
Kuiper Belt, HD 157950
98 light years from Earth
1748 hours, TFT
“Here they come!” Gray called. “Their fighters are deploying ahead of the carrier, and they’re accelerating!”
“Hold position, Dragonfires,” Wizewski’s voice said in his head. “We’re doing it by the book.”
“Holding, aye, sir. . . .”
By the book meant a warning shot, a formal nicety in which modern naval vessels rarely engaged. Generally, the idea was to launch an attack, all-out, complete and devastating, zorching in before the enemy was even aware that your forces were in the area, with missiles and kinetic kill impactors coming in just behind the light announcing their arrival.
He switched to the tactical channel. “All ships! Engage squadron taclink.”
Gray and the other pilots each focused their thoughts, connecting with their fighters’ artificial intelligences. The twelve fighter craft were interconnected now by laser-optic feeds linking their onboard computers into a single electronic organism.
The Valley Forge was pivoting slightly now, bringing her main battery, a spinal-mount CPG, to bear. A moment later, she fired—a burst of tightly focused high-energy-charged particles invisible to the unaided eye but showing clearly on Gray’s instruments and on his visual display. The beam burned past the shield cap of the Jeanne d’Arc , missing the carrier by less than a hundred meters.
“ Jeanne d’Arc ,” Koenig’s voice said over the fleet channel. “That was a warning. Change course immediately, or we will take you under fire.”
“You’re not going to fire on Confederation vessels,” Giraurd’s voice came back. “Surrender and save your people, and your reputation.”
“Dragonfires!” Wizewski’s voice snapped. “You are weapons free. Go! ”
“That’s it, Dragons!” Gray called. “Maximum acceleration in three . . . two . . . one . . . now !”
Twelve Starhawk fighters leaped past the challenge line, hurtling toward the oncoming Pan-European warships. The range was just under 480,000 kilometers. At fifty thousand gravities they closed the gap in just forty seconds.
A typical strike fighter mission had the fighters zorching through an enemy formation at high velocity after a long period of acceleration. This was different, however, with only a relatively short distance for acceleration before the fighters reached the target. The squadron’s newbies hadn’t practiced this sort of tight, close-quarters maneuvering in training sims, and they were going to be making mistakes.
Gray just hoped none of those mistakes would be fatal.
“Jink!” he yelled over the tactical channel. “All Dragonfires, jink !”
By throwing drive singularities to left, right, above, and below at random, they could jerk their fighters around enough to fox enemy targeting AIs as they continued to close the range.
On the tactical display, the Pan-European fighters had leaped forward, seeking to head the Starhawks off.
“Ignore the fighters,” Gray told the squadron. “Stay on the carrier!”
“They’re firing! Missiles incoming!”
Missiles streaked out from the incoming fighters, curving to meet the fast-moving Starhawks.
“Don’t let it rattle you,” Gray said, suppressing the trembling surge of fear he was feeling. “Stay on course. Stay on the carrier. . . .”
White light flared, dazzling and silent in