shielding.
“What are you thinking?” asked Roxana.
With the Strategos gone, Xenophon was now effectively the admiral of the fleet. Though he commanded no ship, it was his authority that compelled each crew and vessel to act. The better prepared they were for a defensive battle, the longer it would take them to be able to leave it.
“I think this is the perfect time for...”
“Topoteretes, I have something,” said the tactical officer.
A flashing box appeared over a target and then vanished as quickly as it had arrived. More boxes flashed in dozens of directions, but none stayed up for longer than a few seconds.
“Deactivate all automated tracking. Use your eyes,” said the Kentarchos well before Xenophon needed to intervene. Roxana leaned in closer.
“It looked like they might finally be listening.”
“There!” said one of the pentarchos.
Eight small shapes appeared from behind a triple rock formation off the starboard bow. Then more came from the opposite direction. As expected, the ship’s automatic targeting and tracking system continued to lose lock on them, proving more an irritation than any kind of help.
“They are tiny. What are they?” Kentarchos Cadmus asked.
Xenophon strained his eyes until the scopes were able to magnify that one small sector of space. What confronted them was an odd assortment of craft that looked more like bugs than a spacecraft. The center mass consisted of three armored sections, with engines to the rear and triple wings pushed out from the middle. A small number of them carried long limb like antennae that hung below the body and crackled with energy.
“They are ECM fighters. They will jam our communications and targeting systems, so the others can attack us with impunity,” said Roxana with horror.
“Topoteretes,” said Auletes Alexandros, “An urgent message from Draco, the captured transport. They want to activate their FTL drive.”
Xenophon twisted about and pointed to the officer.
“No. Tell them if I detect any ship firing up their engines, I will disable them myself. Understood.”
“Sir.”
He looked back at the growing number of heavy fighters. They were much bigger and more substantial than the tiny things used by the Terrans. Xenophon wondered if something of their size might even be able to carry its own FTL engine.
“Prepare to fire!” said the Kentarchos.
A gentle hum reverberated through the ship as the plasma cannons reached their peak level of charge. The Kybernetes, a tall, blue-eyed Amazon, looked to Xenophon but then directed her conversation to her immediate superior officer.
“Kentarchos, guns are ready. The automatic targeting matrix is off-line. We’re on full manual. The crew are our eyes and ears now.”
She looked to Xenophon and eyed him up from head to toe. Xenophon felt oddly uncomfortable in the presence of the taller woman, but she turned away before he could speak.
“Fighter squadrons are tagging enemy vessels. Optics are tracking them and relaying the data to the fleet,” said the tactical officer.
Roxana was busily running through the icons, each one representing a target spotted by a gunner, pilot, or navigator in the fleet. Finally, she looked back at Xenophon.
“Over a hundred targets, with more appearing.”
Roxana shook her head in annoyance.
“It’s as though they were waiting for the fleet to jump out so that we would be left with the rest.”
“Yes,” agreed Xenophon, “and now we have no heavy capital ships to defend ourselves with. This is going to be rough.”
Kentarchos Cadmus looked to them both.
“They are moving in close. What are your orders? We could jump.”
Xenophon shook his head. He was in charge of the fleet now, and though his head told him to jump and jump fast, he knew that hasty action could see them all killed. They were a small force, but they were strong, even without the capital ships to protect them.
“No chance. To jump we will have to reposition, expose our
“What are you thinking?” asked Roxana.
With the Strategos gone, Xenophon was now effectively the admiral of the fleet. Though he commanded no ship, it was his authority that compelled each crew and vessel to act. The better prepared they were for a defensive battle, the longer it would take them to be able to leave it.
“I think this is the perfect time for...”
“Topoteretes, I have something,” said the tactical officer.
A flashing box appeared over a target and then vanished as quickly as it had arrived. More boxes flashed in dozens of directions, but none stayed up for longer than a few seconds.
“Deactivate all automated tracking. Use your eyes,” said the Kentarchos well before Xenophon needed to intervene. Roxana leaned in closer.
“It looked like they might finally be listening.”
“There!” said one of the pentarchos.
Eight small shapes appeared from behind a triple rock formation off the starboard bow. Then more came from the opposite direction. As expected, the ship’s automatic targeting and tracking system continued to lose lock on them, proving more an irritation than any kind of help.
“They are tiny. What are they?” Kentarchos Cadmus asked.
Xenophon strained his eyes until the scopes were able to magnify that one small sector of space. What confronted them was an odd assortment of craft that looked more like bugs than a spacecraft. The center mass consisted of three armored sections, with engines to the rear and triple wings pushed out from the middle. A small number of them carried long limb like antennae that hung below the body and crackled with energy.
“They are ECM fighters. They will jam our communications and targeting systems, so the others can attack us with impunity,” said Roxana with horror.
“Topoteretes,” said Auletes Alexandros, “An urgent message from Draco, the captured transport. They want to activate their FTL drive.”
Xenophon twisted about and pointed to the officer.
“No. Tell them if I detect any ship firing up their engines, I will disable them myself. Understood.”
“Sir.”
He looked back at the growing number of heavy fighters. They were much bigger and more substantial than the tiny things used by the Terrans. Xenophon wondered if something of their size might even be able to carry its own FTL engine.
“Prepare to fire!” said the Kentarchos.
A gentle hum reverberated through the ship as the plasma cannons reached their peak level of charge. The Kybernetes, a tall, blue-eyed Amazon, looked to Xenophon but then directed her conversation to her immediate superior officer.
“Kentarchos, guns are ready. The automatic targeting matrix is off-line. We’re on full manual. The crew are our eyes and ears now.”
She looked to Xenophon and eyed him up from head to toe. Xenophon felt oddly uncomfortable in the presence of the taller woman, but she turned away before he could speak.
“Fighter squadrons are tagging enemy vessels. Optics are tracking them and relaying the data to the fleet,” said the tactical officer.
Roxana was busily running through the icons, each one representing a target spotted by a gunner, pilot, or navigator in the fleet. Finally, she looked back at Xenophon.
“Over a hundred targets, with more appearing.”
Roxana shook her head in annoyance.
“It’s as though they were waiting for the fleet to jump out so that we would be left with the rest.”
“Yes,” agreed Xenophon, “and now we have no heavy capital ships to defend ourselves with. This is going to be rough.”
Kentarchos Cadmus looked to them both.
“They are moving in close. What are your orders? We could jump.”
Xenophon shook his head. He was in charge of the fleet now, and though his head told him to jump and jump fast, he knew that hasty action could see them all killed. They were a small force, but they were strong, even without the capital ships to protect them.
“No chance. To jump we will have to reposition, expose our
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