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

acting commander of the entire strike element, sounded ready to handle anything, even a cruiser spitting coherent energy in every direction. "Let's take it to them!"

The Darkets peeled off, circling left, trying to get around toward the stern of the cruiser where there were fewer turrets that could fire on the fragile craft. Robertson's Strakha, the odd man out of the heavy fighter squadron, took position at the head of a loose cone of Vaktoths and Dralthi Fours and dived straight in, with all beam weapons firing.

The volume of Double-A-S increased as they stooped down on their intended victim, and another fighter, one of the Dralthi Fours, exploded close by Constantine's Vaktoth. Robertson skimmed low right over the cruiser's hull, dumping a full load of missiles into her shields and then pulling up.

A point-defense battery tracked his craft, a gatling mass driver that used magnetic fields to accelerate tiny slivers of metal to fantastic velocities. A stream of the deadly projectiles intersected with the Strakha.

Robertson's voice was loud in her ears. "I'm hit! I'm hit! Tell Mary—"

Then there was silence. Ileana Constantine was the new commander of the Black Leopards.

Strakha 800, VF-401 "Shadow Cats" Near Orbital Station Asharazhal, Baka Kar System 1238 hours (CST)

"There's just too damned many of them, Bear. We can't cover everybody . . . I don't have any reserves to send!"

"Stay icy, Bifrost," Bondarevsky responded. The code name identified the Command and Control element of the wing, one of the Grathas. "We knew we wouldn't have it all our own way."

He was paying the price, now, for the decision to take over the Shadow Cats in place of the wounded Travis. The Gratha that Mjollnir had deployed to help coordinate the fighter battle had been his designated place, but instead it was Commander Tomas Alvarez, the Deputy Wing Commander, who had the duty. But Alvarez was finding it difficult to cope with the overwhelming responsibility of trying to manage the far-flung engagement, especially now that the Landreichers were starting to run into increasingly heavy resistance. Commander Babcock was engaged with three times her numbers in low planetary orbit, and had lost three of her fighters in a matter of minutes. And the assault on the cruiser had penetrated her shields, knocking out her maneuver bridge, but at the cost of the detachment CO and several other birds . . . and the cruiser was still coming, controlled now from her CIC section, no doubt. The Paktahns had finished their strike and were withdrawing to rendezvous with one of the Kofars to rearm, with Montclair taking his Raptors and the squadron of medium Rapiers down to support Babcock. But that left no more reserves. The Wing was stretched to the limit.

Bondarevsky fought the temptation to lead the Strakhas out to support the other squadrons. The two intense battles were too far away . . . and the primary mission was still to cripple the dreadnought. He couldn't allow himself to be drawn into a sideshow, no matter how bad things might be getting out there.

And he couldn't do two jobs at once. He could be either a Wing Commander or a squadron CO, and he'd made that choice when he strapped on the Strakha.

"You have the big picture up there, Bifrost. Not me. I trust you to do the best you can. Loki One, clear."

He cut the channel and focused on the nearest gun turret. The Strakhas continued their intricate dance, but one short now since Lieutenant Kendricks had come out of cloak just as a point defense battery had opened fire. It wasn't as bad as with some of the other squadrons, not yet, but Bondarevsky knew that attrition was going to take its toll on all of them soon enough.

The monster Kilrathi warship had cast loose from its moorings now, but it was having trouble maneuvering clear of the station on thrusters alone, and didn't dare cut in the main engines so close. Meantime Tolwyn was performing brilliantly in Mjollnir. He had fired through the intervening barrier of one of the station's docking arms, and as the structure had come apart more and more of his shots had dug into the Vorghath's armor. By that time the Strakha hit and run raids on the turret emplacements had begun to leave gaps in the dreadnought's forward field of fire, so Tolwyn had shifted his tactics and brought the carrier back into the open. Against the bulk of Vorghath even the supercarrier looked tiny, and the difference in maneuverability and precision of control was immediately plain. Tolwyn took the carrier in to point blank range again, maneuvering Mjollnir like she was a destroyer rather than a carrier, and the damage to her massive opponent began to tell.

He could see Mjollnir's point-defense batteries firing at the dreadnought again, too, and knew Tolwyn was pressing home the attack with everything he had. Bondarevsky's sensors showed that one of the Cat cruisers, the one the fighters were having so much trouble with, was coming up fast. Once she got into the action Mjollnir would be in serious trouble. She was still held together mostly by patches and prayers, with much of her armor gone, and a sustained battle with a cruiser could only end one way.

Tolwyn had to deal with the dreadnought before Mjollnir had to fight for her very life . . .

Combat Information Center, FRLS Mjollnir Near Orbital Station Asharazhal, Baka Kar System 1238 hours (CST)

"Her armor's finally going!"

Tolwyn almost joined in the cheer that followed the Exec's hoarse cry. Kittani, his voice all but gone from barking orders, pointed to the main viewscreen with a savage jabbing of his fingers. The beams were indeed penetrating the dreadnought's thick belts of armor at last, especially in the area immediately abaft the gaping missile tubes that Tolwyn had singled out for special attention from Deniken's guns.

"Back us off, Mr. Clancy," he ordered. "If we've got this right, this isn't going to