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Orange Flight, 5th Tactical Fighter Squadron, 276th Tactical Fighter Wing
Ogawa City, Tsukude
Prefecture I, Republic of the Sphere
28 November 3134
Two undeniable facts: The universe could kill a guy a thousand ways to Sunday, and what the universe couldn’t do, the Dracs were pleased as punch to finish.
Now, his onboard sensors shrilled a warning about five milliseconds before Lieutenant Adrian Pe
Static sizzled in his headset: “Whoa, shake and bake.”
Pe
“Uh-huh,” said Menace, aka Brad De
Pe
The preflight briefing came at oh-nine-thirty. A dour commander reminded them of everything they didn’t know. “But whatever happens, one thing’s crystal, boys and girls. You will not fire unless fired upon.”
Terrific; an aerial quick draw. But Pe
Pe
Suddenly, his computer blatted. Pe
An instant later, Red McAllister’s voice filtered in a wash of static. “Tangerine Three confirms same. Read two bogies, forty degrees right, altitude now sixteen-three.” A pause. “Confirm two, green for go.”
Menace: “So where the hell are the other two?”
Good question. Pe
Evidently the strike controller ticked through the same calculus because there was a squall of interference, and the words: “…change… eading… atch… and speed… do… engage… conflict.”
Lord, help me. “Control, this is Tangerine One, say again.” More fuzz and urps, though Pe
“Ho, boy,” said Menace. “I don’t frigging like that.”
Pe
Pe
No one pointed out that Pe
“Two?” Menace again. And then: “Uh-oh.”
Now Pe
A second later, Red: “Tangerine Three is tallyho four bandits, nine-point-two klicks and closing. ID Friend or Foe confirms Sholagars. Confirm, Control.”
Red was cool; he had to give her that. Pe
Three seconds went by, then ten. Pe
His answer was a hiss followed by a pop, and something that sounded like a man gargling underwater. And that was the extent of his contact with strike control. Then his HUD flared, and Pe
Menace: “Tangerine Two, read bandits, coming in hot!”
Hot. The Sholagars were targeting, and Pe
No one argued; everyone did as the lead pilot said and in ten seconds McAllister and Will had caught up to assume positions right and left of his wing as Menace dropped back and shed altitude. Pe
Now it was a test of nerves and speed. Yes, the Sholagars’ turn radius was tighter. Only his guys had superior weaponry, so one of two things would happen. Either each would break off and start turning, hard, cutting their turns and threading their fighters across ever-narrowing loops until one slid in to their opponent’s rear and took his shot. Or they’d get a knife fight in the cold, hard, darkness of space: Dueling fighters scissoring nose-to-nose, back and forth in sheer, fast vertical or horizontal turns, like knitting needles crossing, uncrossing, crossing, until one fighter got inside the other’s turn, slid in behind, and let ’er rip. And gravity didn’t count for a damn in space because a fighter never ran out of vertical velocity. Problem was the Sholagars could run circles around them, and the last thing Pe