"Got him!" from Jo Haugen. The red dot in Lynsnar's swarm was no more. It had passed within a few thousand kilometers of one of the drones. In the milliseconds necessary to compute a new jump, the drone had discovered its presence and detonated. Even that would not have been fatal if the target had jumped before the blast front hit it; there had been several near misses in earlier seconds. This time the jump did not reach commit in time. A mini-star was born, one whose light would be years in reaching the rest of the battle volume.
Glimfrelle gave a rasping whistle, an untranslatable curse, "We just lost Ablsndot and Holder, Boss. Their target must have counter-swarmed."
"Send in Gliwing and Trance." Something in the back of his head curled up in horror. These were his friends who were dying. Kjet had seen death before, but never like this. In police action, no one took lethal chances except in a rescue. And yet… he turned from the field summary to order more ships on a target that had acquired defending vessels. Tirolle was moving in others on his own. Ganging up on a few nonessential targets might lose in the long run, but in the short term… the enemy was being hurt. For the first time since the fall of Sjandra Kei, Commercial Security was hurting someone back.
Haugen: "Powers, that guy was moving! Secondary drone got EM spectrum on the kill. Target was going 15000 kps true speed." A rocket bomb ramping up? Damn. They should be postponing those till after they controlled the battlefield.
Tirolle: "More kills, far side of battle volume. The enemy is repositioning. Somehow they've guessed which we're after — "
Glimfrelle: Triumph whistle. "Get 'em, get 'em — oops. Boss, I think Limmende has figured we're coordinating things — "
A new window had opened over Tirolle's post. It showed the five million kilometers around Olvira. Two other ships were there now: the window identified them as Limmende's flag and one of the vessels that had not responded to Svensndot's recruiting.
There was an instant of stillness on Olvira's command deck. The voices of triumph and panic coming from the rest of the fleet seemed suddenly far away. Svensndot and his crew were looking at death close up. "Tirolle! How long till swarm — "
"They're on us already — just missed a drone by ten milliseconds."
"Tirolle! Finish running current engagements. Glimfrelle, tell Lynsnar and Trance to chain command if we lose contact." Those ships had already spent their drones, and Jo Haugen was known to all the other captains.
Then the thought was gone, and he was busy coordinating Olvira's own battle swarm. The local tactics window showed the cloud dissipating, taking on colors coded by whether they were lagging or leading in time relative to Olvira.
Their two attackers had matched pseudospeeds perfectly. Ten times per second all three ships jumped a tiny fraction of a light-year. Like rocks skipping across the surface of a pond, they appeared in real space in perfectly measured hops — and the distance between them at every emergence was less that five million kilometers. The only thing that separated them now was millisecond differences in jump times, and the fact the light itself could not pass between them in the brief time they spent at each jump point.
Three actinic flashes lit the deck, casting shadows back from Svensndot and the Dirokimes. It was second-hand light, the display's emergency signal of nearby detonation. Run like hell was the message any rational person should take from that awful light. It would be easy enough to break synch
… and lose tactical control of Aniara fleet. Tirolle and Glimfrelle bent their heads away from the local window, shying from the glare of nearby death. Their whistling voices scarcely broke cadence, and the commands from Olvira to the others continued. There were dozens of other battles going on out there. Just now Olvira was the only source of precision and control available to their side. Every second they remained on station meant protection and advantage to Aniara. Breaking off would mean minutes of chaos till Lynsnar or Trance could pick up control.
Nearly two thirds of Pham Nuwen's targets were destroyed now. The price had been high, half of Svensdot's friends. The enemy had lost much to protect those targets, yet much of its fleet survived.
An unseen hand smashed Olvira, driving Svensndot hard against his combat harness. The lights went out, even the glow from the windows. Then dim red light came from the floor. The Dirokimes were silhouetted by one small monitor. 'Rolle whistled softly, "We're out of the game, Boss, least while it counts. I didn't know you could get misses that near."
