Bandits Engaged (Battlegroup Z Book 4) by Daniel Gibbs (classic literature list .txt) 📗

by his cockpit canopy as the bandit settled behind him. Every attempt to evade was matched move for move.

Work the problem. Determined to avoid compromising his OODA—observe, orient, decide, act—loop, Justin pushed to the back of his head the questions about how a small craft twice the size of his Sabre could have nearly equal delta-V. “Alpha One to any friendlies. Bandit on my six almost has a guns solution. Request immediate assistance.” More purple pulses zipped by as he spoke. A scan of his HUD showed Feldstein tangled in her own dogfight.

“Alpha Three to Alpha One. Hang on, sir. I’m thirty seconds out, bearing zero-eight-five.”

Justin located the icon representing Mateus’s fighter as his aft shields took repeated hits from the bandit chasing him. Time for guns-D. He began a series of wildly varied maneuvers in an attempt to shake the enemy and disrupt its aim. After waiting until the last possible moment, Justin toggled off the safeties for the inertial dampening system and pulled up hard relative to Mateus’s position at maximum speed with his afterburners engaged.

Blackness crept in around the corners of his eyes as the g-forces skyrocketed. Even with the robust inertial-dampening equipment, he was pulling fifteen Gs. The advanced technology of his pilot’s chair and suit kept the force from killing him. Multiple missile icons detached from the nearest blue dot to Justin’s Sabre on the sensor readout. This is gonna be close. In quick succession, he killed the afterburner then desynched his fighter’s inertial-damping field and flipped the craft one hundred eighty degrees. That left his nose cone pointing backward toward the enemy as his forward motion continued unabated.

Blue neutron-cannon bolts along with LIDAR-tracking missiles streaked across the void from Alpha Three. The pirate fighter sent purple xaser energy back at both Justin and Mateus, lighting up their shields. Justin held down the firing trigger on his flight stick, sending his own fire into the fray. The concentrated barrage battered down the bandit's deflectors before the Vultures connected and blew it apart.

As the glow from the explosion faded, Justin exhaled for what felt like the first time in a while. “Alpha One to Alpha Three. Thanks for the assist.”

“Any time, sir. Nice trick there, by the way.”

“Something I picked up from the CAG.” He quickly scanned the HUD-based sensor readout. “Bandits bearing two-six-eight, range fifty kilometers. Break left and push it up to max thrust.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

The course Justin had called out would put them in range of the two fighters Feldstein and Adeoye were tangling with. Then the HUD flashed red, indicating a new wormhole forming. Good grief. When it rains, it pours.

“Conn, TAO. Aspect change, inbound wormhole.”

Tehrani waited for his report with a gnawing in the pit of her stomach.

“Reads as Lusitanian signature, ma’am,” Bryan continued. “Contact designated as Sierra Three. Freighter, bulk hauler classification.”

Lusitanians out here? While the area was technically close to their border, the neutral planet had a reputation of keeping to itself and out of interstellar affairs. Tehrani narrowed her eyes. “Communications, send my compliments to the commander of Sierra Three and request they stay clear of the battle.”

“Aye, aye, ma’am,” Singh replied.

“This is mighty odd,” Wright said as he stared at his chair-integrated display. “That freighter is moving faster than I’ve ever seen an ore hauler go.”

Over the last year, Tehrani’s combat senses had become attuned to changes in the battlefield. They were now almost a sixth sense, and as she stared at the onrushing freighter, they cried out in alarm. She couldn’t avoid heeding the warning. “TAO, reclassify Sierra Three as hostile.”

Bryan apparently couldn’t believe his ears. “Say again, ma’am?”

“Reclassify Sierra Three as hostile now, Lieutenant,” Tehrani snapped.

“Aye, aye, ma’am.”

“Communications, warn Master Three to move away now, or they will be engaged.” Tehrani turned to Wright. “XO, ETA for our forward neutron beams being back online?”

“At least fifteen minutes, ma’am.”

The Marcus Luttrell kept up the pressure on the most damaged pirate corvette—Master One. While the enemy ship was nimble, it couldn’t dodge neutron beams moving at the speed of light. Repeated hits on its aft quarter eventually resulted in engine damage, and the vessel began to slow.

Tehrani, above all, wanted prisoners to interrogate. The pirates had to operate out of somewhere, and if she knew where, Battlegroup Z would be paying them a visit. There was still the matter of the bulk hauler, however. Its presence disrupted the entire battle space. “Communications, any response from Master Three?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Conn, TAO. Aspect change, Master Three. She’s launching small craft, ma’am.” Bryan’s voice went up an octave. “Ten… twenty… thirty… I count thirty-six. Mixture of fighters and larger single-seaters, probably bombers, ma’am.”

Pirates with a carrier? The sheer brazenness of it shocked Tehrani, but she quickly set it aside and focused on working the problem. “XO, how soon till the rest of our battlegroup arrives?”

Wright glanced at the digital clock showing ship’s time against other standard time zones. “Twenty minutes on our frigates, an hour for the Astute, ma’am.” He bit his lip. “Not fast enough.”

The XO’s commentary was on point, but Tehrani didn’t want to hear that kind of talk on the bridge. She shot him a dirty look and focused on her tactical plot. Only one course of action remained. “Communications, order the Hadley’s crew to abandon ship immediately and land their escape pods on our flight deck.”

“Aye, aye, ma’am.”

“TAO, designate Master One as the primary target for the Marcus Luttrell. Take the gloves off. We’ll cause as much damage as we can and get out.”

“Aye, aye, ma’am.”

Tehrani felt as if her heart were going to pound out of her chest. “XO, what’s on the flight line?”

“Four more Sabres, ma’am. Shall I order a general scramble?”

“Get the Sabres into the vacuum. Order every fighter we’ve got left into ready five. We’ll wait a minute to see how things develop. I don’t want to overplay our hand.” And if I underplay it, we’re going to lose far too many people.

“Aye, aye, ma’am.” Wright tapped a button on his