Wing Commander #07 False Color William Forstchen (top 10 books to read .txt) 📖

lot of pounding, but they're better than what the tender could put out . . . while they last."

"The shield generators have priority, Engineer," Tolwyn said grimly. "I don't care if you have to splice wires together by hand. I want those shields to stay up. Understood?"

"We'll do our best," Graham said.

"Entering the ring field," Clancy announced.

"Get ready, people . . ."

"Targets! Targets! Targets!" Deniken chanted. "Just came up on the screens. They're close . . ."

The effective range of the sensors in this mess of ice was barely a kilometer. The enemy fighters were right on top of them.

"Incoming fire," Kittani said. "Beams and missiles!" Tolwyn braced himself, ready for the worst.

Broadsword 206, Guild Squadron "Raider-One" Near Vaku VII, Vaku System 1504 hours (CST)

"Firing!" Winston Drake hit the trigger to release a full salvo of beam weapons, then followed up with a pair of salvaged Kilrathi Image Recognition missiles. According to the mission profile the pilots had gone over during the outward voyage, the target ship would have only minimal shield power available, and a rapid string of laser hits would weaken the force fields long enough to allow the missiles to penetrate. Each of the privateer fighters in the two Broadsword squadrons would make an identical run, and the cumulative damage from so many tightly-packed attacks was sure to overload the target's capacity to protect itself and destroy the target completely.

That was the plan . . . direct and simple. But his sensors were giving him a different story from the predicted profile. The attack wasn't going anything like the computer simulations they'd run back on the Bonadventure.

The beams were striking the intended target area, but the shields were absorbing them easily. And the two missiles detonated harmlessly, their hellish energies barely causing a ripple in the force field.

"Damn!" he said aloud. "Damn it, those shields are stronger than they're supposed to be!"

"Continue your run," Zachary Banfeld ordered. "If it takes a little more effort to bring the shields down, so be it. Just knock out that tender!"

Bridge, FRLS Sindri Docked with FRLS Karga, Vaku System 1504 hours (CST)

"Those bastards are targeting us!" Dickerson added a few more colorful comments.

"Calm down, Captain," Tolwyn said over the commlink. "What's your status?"

"If we hadn't been letting you run your own field, we'd already be debris," Dickerson said harshly. "As it

is, we're draining power fast. Our generators weren't built to cycle fast enough for combat conditions. We've got lots of reserve power, but we're losing ground."

"This is Richards," the battle group commander cut in. "Captain, cut loose your grapnels and get under way. With our fighters joining the part and the carrier clearing the ring system 1 think we can keep the bastards occupied while you make good an escape. If you stick where you are, one of them could get through and take you out.'

"But, Admiral, if your generators go down . . ." "Never mind that! This is not what your crew signed on for. Get them clear!"

"Aye aye, sir," he said reluctantly. Dickerson wanted no part of a battle, but he felt guilty at leaving the carrier to fend for itself. He'd been monitoring the same instruments Graham was watching from the carrier's engineering decks. Karga could replenish her shield reserves far more quickly than Sindri could, but the generators weren't balanced properly. Sooner or later the strain of maintaining them at full power would cause the whole system to collapse, and the supercarrier would be wide open to whatever the hostiles sent her way.

And if the shields were knocked out for a prolonged period, radiation would do all the killing the enemy needed.

But he had the admiral's orders . . . and the lives of his own people to think about. "Mr. Kaine, cut us loose," he told his first officer. He glanced at the empty pilot's chair. Clancy was on his own. Luckily they wouldn't need his fine touch for the kind of maneuvering they were about to perform. "You take the helm, Kaine. Get us the hell out of here!"

Broadsword 206, Guild Squadron "Raider-One" Near Vaku VII, Vaku System 1506 hours (CST)

The carrier was clearing the ring system by the time Drake killed his original attack vector and swung around for a second run. He was cursing under his breath as he locked in the target coordinates. The first bombardment was supposed to have penetrated the shields and destroyed the tender perched on the back of the carrier's looming superstructure. That would have spelled victory then and there.

Now the privateers would have to go back in against an opponent ready for them. They wouldn't have the advantages of obscured sensors and masked point defense weapons. And the sensors showed fighters had started launching from the starboard flight deck of the ungainly Kilrathi ship. That would complicate things.

But even though the Landreichers had been working on that monster for months now, Drake had seen the pitting and scarring along the carrier's hull. A ship that badly damaged couldn't put up much of a fight, not against two squadrons of determined men willing to do whatever it took to get the job done.

He lined up his targeting reticule on the tender, then cursed as it lifted clear of the ship and accelerated outward. His sensors showed the carrier still had shields up. That explained the unexpected strength of the tender's shielding, then. The carrier didn't need the tender's support any longer.

Drake followed the tender. His orders were to destroy it, and destroy it he would, attached or separated. Putting the tender out of action would still leave the carrier at their mercy if they could batter down her shields as well.

He lined up his shot and opened fire with everything he had. . . .

Hornet 100, VF-12 "Flying Eyes" Near Vaku VII, Vaku System 1506 hours (CST)

"I've got one on my six! Give me some help!"

Babcock scowled and accelerated as Jensson's