Wing Commander #07 False Color by William Forstchen (best books to read in life .txt) 📕

target before the attack . . . and the shield emitter arrays of the orbital dock and the massive dreadnought were far better targets than those found on a carrier.

The eight Strakhas had stationed themselves directly adjacent to eight different emitter batteries, six on the dreadnought, two more on the station. Hidden, they had reduced speed to close to zero, using thrusters to keep station against microgravitic influences but otherwise simply matching orbits perfectly with the Kilrathi station and its monstrous consort. Normally fighters tried to operate using high speeds and rapid vector changes, using their maneuverability to protect them from the dangers of Double-A-S. But that limited the time available to achieve a target lock and fire.

Today, though, the situation was different. The Strakhas decloaked and opened fire, pouring sustained energy blasts directly into the crucial emitters at point blank range before the Kilrathi even knew there were enemies in a position to fire. Neither the station nor the dreadnought had been maintaining shields at combat strength. They were set at low power levels to screen out minor radiation or random chunks of space debris.

So the sudden, overwhelming attack quickly punched through the protective screens and smashed into the arrays. In seconds there were huge gaps left in the Kilrathi shielding that would take long minutes to circumvent by reworking their power grid.

In the meantime, station and dreadnought lay wide open to attack.

As he continued to fire into the emitters, Bondarevsky saw Mjollnir making a slow, ponderous turn right across the bows of the dreadnought, where the shields were failing fast. Fighters and bombers were streaming from the two launch bays as fast as Boss Marchand could cycle them out, led by the Raptors of Etienne Montclair's Crazy Eights and the powerful Vaktoths in Commander Lin Dan-Giang's Black Lion squadron.

Then the carrier opened fire with her main guns.

Though not intended to engage in close space combat, the carrier had been well-equipped with batteries to ensure the destruction of any smaller fighting ship that managed to slip through her guard. They had only been able to get six of the eight massive laser turrets back in service during the refit, but Tolwyn had angled the ship so that four of those six turrets had firing arcs. They all opened up at once, and a moment later numerous smaller beams contributed to the massive assault. That had been the project Deniken had been wrapped up in since leaving Vaku. He had adapted the computer program that handled the largely automated point defense lasers, which were supposed to knock down incoming missiles or fighters that closed too near. Now they were slaved to the main guns, and if their individual power output wasn't much against the heavy armor that protected the dreadnought, together they increased the already furious energy that washed over the enemy ship's bow.

Armor sloughed off under the intense bombardment, but of course the dreadnought had plenty of armor to spare. Now it was a race between the Mjollnir's ability to pour out sustained energy fire, the dreadnought's staying power, and the Kilrathi crew's response time as they tried to man battle stations and bring the leviathan into the fight.

No one expected them to just sit there and take it for very long.

Command Bridge, KIS Vorghath Docked, Orbital Station Asharazhal, Baka Kar System 1221 hours (CST)

Dawx Jhorrad emerged from the elevator to find the cavernous bridge of the Vorghath in the grip of confusion and near-panic. Striding purposefully toward his command station, he cuffed two enlisted ratings in passing and bared his fangs at an engineering officer who seemed completely out of his depth in the face of the crisis.

"Report!" he snapped, dropping into the command chair and turning the baleful glare of his mismatched eyes, one real, one bionic, on his first officer.

"Karga has launched an attack," Khrell nar Dhollas announced without any of the honorifics that were usually addressed to a commanding officer receiving a report. He had always resented the fate that had placed him, a Baron of the Empire, under the command of a commoner, and his contempt showed even when he was performing ship's business. But he was a skilled officer, and Jhorrad allowed him a measure of freedom. Neither of them could change who or what they were. "Just before firing, he changed his transponder configuration and signal. The identification is for a Landreich warship."

"Apes!" Jhorrad spat.

"A squadron of Strakhas was also involved in the initial attack, decloaking and opening fire on our emitter banks. Shields are down across the bow as far back as bulkhead one-twelve. Additional fighters are launching."

"Our response?"

"As yet, we have not been able to return fire," Dhollas said. "Generators were off-line and the crew was unprepared." That sounded like an accusation. It was true that he hadn't allowed the first officer to take the ship to alert status when the three ape ships had appeared at the jump point. At the time, there had seemed to be no particular reason for alarm. Two destroyers and a cruiser offered little threat. They would not have been able to penetrate the defensive perimeter, and even if they had tried there would have been plenty of time for Vorghath to go on alert status.

Now they were paying for his complacency . . . but there was no need for Dhollas to point out the fact so blatantly. He made a slashing motion, calling the Exec to silence. "Excuses and blame will not serve here," he said harshly. "Only results. All crew to combat stations, and bring the generators on-line. Reroute shields to cover the gap. Weapons turrets to acquire target and open fire. And cast us off from the station. I will not have Vorghath caught like a traggil in a trap!"

"As you command," Dhollas said stiffly. He turned, shouting orders.

The mighty dreadnought lurched as the carrier fired again and damaged one of the mooring tractors. Jhorrad's claws flexed instinctively.

He would swat this impudent ape who had dared