Torshk stared at the oncoming supercruiser, rapt by the view, by the startling fact that it bore no insignia and traveled without escorts. Standard Confederation protocol called for supercruisers to be escorted by at least two destroyers and a cruiser or larger battleship. Transports, ship tenders, and resupply operators frequently accompanied the convoy.
"Gold Claw Leader? The prey comes!" Covum cried.
The tactical report showed the destroyers adjusting tack. They would make a series of intercept approaches, feinting until the last moment when they would increase thrust and spring on their catch.
But Torshk could not ignore the oddity of a supercrusier traveling alone through Kilrathi-held space. Had the ape in command lost his senses? If so, weren't there other apes aboard who knew better? Or was the rest of its battle group preparing to jump in behind it? A chill coiled up Torshk's spine as his gaze wandered over the cap ship's immense hull, past a few of the many torpedo tubes and the colossal antimatter guns mounted on the upper deck. His display reported the battleship's length at 855 meters, but he swore she was bigger. He stole a final look at her superstructure, rising several dozen meters from the deck like a dura-steel volcano, then cocked his head as Covum's fighter darted by with a pair of missiles chewing through his thruster wash.
Torshk seized his control yoke and yawed to port, heading at full throttle toward his cousin, the supercrusier now rushing in behind him. "I will assist!"
The missiles tightened their gap on Covum's Dralthi as Torshk plowed through exhaust trails, activated his targeting computer, and centered his reticle over the starboard rocket. Meson fire leapt from his blasters, struck the rocket with accelerated subatomic particles that instantly decayed inside the missile and heaved a terrific internal explosion. Torshk roared through the fireball to glimpse the second missile-even as it tore into Covum's Dralthi.
"For my hrail For my-" Covum released a strangled cry as his fighter blossomed into fire-licked wreckage.
Torshk's howl rose from the core of his being and rang piercingly through his helmet. Every sense registered the throbbing agony of his cousin's loss. Panting, he increased velocity and soared above the destroyers-just in time to watch the ConCom ship explode in a coppery mushroom of smoke and fleeting fire. Howling again, Torshk steered toward the five remaining Dralthi in his squadron. "Gold Claw Squadron! Standby to attack!"
Even as the destroyers shifted to port and fired a quartet of torpedoes at the supercruiser, Torshk reached the others and flew as the poisonous tip of a tight wedge formation. They swooped down toward the cap ship's bow. Torshk toggled off his missile safety and surveyed the targeting report in his HUD. The computer automatically selected the ship's most lethal points and prioritized the attack while simultaneously receiving data from Black Claw squadron's targeting computers. Torshk noted that the seven Dralthi fighters of Black Claw planned to concentrate fire on the ship's stern in an attempt to knock out ion engine control. Since they would take out propulsion, his warriors would focus on weapons. "Claws Three and Four. You will target the forward guns. Claws Five, Six, and Seven will concentrate fire on torpedo stations."
"She has not launched fighters, Gold Leader!" That from Gold Claw Three, whose voice bore an icy astonishment.
"And where are her escorts?" Gold Claw Four added.
Two of the ship's antimatter guns pivoted toward them, barrels lifting.
With widening eyes, Torshk gave the final order: "Break and attack!"
Two Dralthi rolled away, dropping sharply in sixty-degree dives toward the guns. The other three cut hard to starboard and would skim along the hull, targeting torpedo stations and dispatching missiles at point-blank range. Human blood would spill. Sivar would smile.
As Torshk eased his control stick forward and the targeting computer locked on to the cap ship's bridge, a beeping alarm diverted his attention to his tactical display. His gaze barely met the screen when the voice of Flight Leader Norj'ach of Black Claw squadron burst through the channel. "Torshk! Look at our destroyers!"
Squinting at his display, Torshk could not find the glimmering representations of the destroyers. He noted the tiny dots flitting about the supercruiser and the sudden appearance of an odd, circular distortion positioned about eight hundred meters ahead of the cap ship. The thing's diameter measured nearly five hundred meters, though it fluctuated by several dozen meters along its perimeter. The report showed concentric yellow rings forming horizontal to the supercruiser and funneling down nearly three hundred meters to a solid point. A sidebar displayed something about "gravitic warping in progress." Torshk jerked back the stick, pulling into a high-G climb. He rolled to port and leveled off, taking in the view with his own eyes.
The two destroyers' bows had dropped ninety degrees, and both were being dragged into a whirlpool of wavering gloom. Torshk switched to their comm channel and suddenly wished he hadn't. Once bold warriors now squealed in horror as their battleships slowly broke into meter-sized fragments that hurtled toward the darkness amid tendrils of jettisoned gases and streamers of multicolored liquids. A powerful blow rocked Torshk's Dralthi and drowned out the comm channel. Thrown forward, he suddenly found himself barreling toward the abyss. He reversed thrust, and the engines whined against an overwhelming force. Reports from his comrades echoed distantly in his headset, voices smearing into each other:
"Gold Leader? Praise it has to Sivar me! Can home now come to see honor by for clan be so the Lord and this die for blood to can for truth Sivar and know what heart is me in for…"
The supercruiser passed swiftly below Torshk's fighter. He braced his control stick with both paws and watched the ship draw close to the gravity well's perimeter. We embrace in death! Sivar grants justice this day!
But the cap ship did not descend into the whirlpool. A veil of shimmering light fell over the vessel as five hundred meters ahead, on the opposite side of the well, an identical flash lifted into space. It jumped… it jumped the well.
Enraged by their escape and by the certainty of his fate, Torshk reversed thrust once more, charging at full tilt toward a cave of filmy night. No, he would never die by their hand. He still had that much control.
As the seconds burned away, he thought about how it would feel to die, if there would be pain, if he could take that pain with honor and not shame himself by crying out. The control stick suddenly shook free of his grip. His seat restraints snapped, and he floated out of the chair, feeling himself shake independently of the ship, teeth chattering, joints grinding, spittle dappling his helmet. He listened to the sound of his labored breathing, saw only a blur of gray, and sniffed at the smoke from damaged instruments that wafted in his nutrient gas line. His bones pushed against his skin.
He gasped.
Gasped again.
Knew it had come.
Fought for the glory of silence.
And won.
Lieutenant Christopher Blair sat in the Tiger Claw's flight wing briefing room, arms folded over his chest, a definite smirk forming on his clean-shaven face as he listened to Lieutenant Todd "Maniac" Marshall wax evangelic about his piloting prowess to Elise "Zarya" Rolitov, a slim dove recently assigned to the 88th Fighter Wing, First Squadron. "And we didn't just come in hot, honey. We came in hot and inverted."
Blair lifted his smirk in Maniac's direction, but the blonde braggadocio's gaze held tight on Zarya, who made matters worse by returning an expression of awe, tugging fingers through her short, auburn hair, and fidgeting in her seat. That kind of body language would propel Maniac to newfound heights of lust and conceit. Blair bolted to his feet and crossed a few chairs down to face Zarya. He raised his voice over the other five pilots jabchatting around them. "What he won't tell you is that he nearly mowed down the deck boss while pulling that stunt. Take it from me, Lieutenant. If you want to keep out of trouble, keep away from this guy."