Kris's 5-inchers hammered the Fury. The young skipper on that boat was trying for the Patton, but rarely connecting.
Which looked good but didn't make Kris feel any better. She was teaching these kids their job—and their slight delay in firing their lasers told Kris something she didn't really want to know. They were recharging their pulse lasers. About the time the fleets were closest, those big hitters would be ready.
Sulwan kept the Patton's teardrop hull pointed at the Incredible. That put the meter of ice on the nose out where it took most of the hits and the engines out of harm. Kris nipped one of Hank's engines. Penny also got one of the Dominant's. It didn't matter much, since none of the ships were under boost; but now Hank angled his cruisers vulnerable engines away, pointed only his bow weapons at Kris and continued the fight.
They closed at over fifty-five thousand kilometers an hour, dodging and weaving in their orbits, firing as quickly as they could recharge. Steam boiled off the Patton to cool into crystalline ice, providing a thin cloak of cover for the ships behind her. That and the residue of decoys gave color to the lasers reaching out to slash ships. It also deflected sensors, making firing solutions less precise. But as the angle of fire approached zero, that mattered less and less.
''Sulwan, get ready to make a major dodge,'' Kris whispered, firing off a salvo that boiled Hank's ice but did no apparent damage. ''He's coming up on closest approach. And he'll have his 21-inch pulse lasers recharged.'' Kris didn't have to say what the Patton would look like if she took five, ten of them at once.
Kris would give her right arm for the four-pulse lasers the Patton was supposed to have. Someone had removed them before exiling the boat to the Rim, probably for new construction. Kris hoped they earned their pay wherever that was.
The navigator laid the Patton over and boosted; then just as quickly, flipped it, fired decoy, and boosted back. Twice Sulwan did that yo-yo. Sometimes the leg was one second long, another time two. Halfway through the third, the Patton shuddered along its length.
Kris's board lit up as the Patton shimmied and bumped. Pumps moved reaction mass to rebalance her, but not fast enough.
''Laser Bay 1 is open to space.'' That was no surprise. ''We've got a burn through there.'' The meter of ice over it, slashed and hacked, had boiled away totally. The Patton staggered in its orbit, taking hits as it became predictable. ''Sulwan.''
''I don't know if the old gal can take this, but here goes.'' The Patton's engines blasted Kris back in her seat. Kris ignored the red flashing on Jack's board and aimed for the Incredible. Four lasers answered her order. Hank's ship steamed. How much longer can I keep this up?
Flag Captain Slovo struggled to make his way back to his bridge. A man of his age and experience should have known better than to try to teach a pig to sing. All he'd done was aggravate the pig—and get himself thrown in his own brig.
In his cell, it had done him and his ship no good to shout orders for battle rotation or evasive maneuvers. The dimming of the lights told Slovo that the Incredible had fired everything it had at the start of the battle. Only a long minute later did the ship take on rotation… maybe half of what it needed to survive. And then it began to zig and zag in its orbit.
''So that Longknife girl is teaching you how this dance is done,'' Slovo muttered as his cell door opened.
''Your presence is requested on the bridge.'' Maybe Hank was ready to learn from someone other than that girl.
Against the rotation, allowing for dodges and weaving, and trying not to let the sudden bursts of power leave him with a broken leg or cracked skull, Slovo struggled forward.
''I got her. I got her.'' Hank greeted him as he half stumbled, half swam onto his bridge. The commodore's happy face turned to him. ''I've already won this battle. I didn't need you after all.''
The flag captain locked his face to blank, said ''Very good,'' and lurched for his seat. He was just strapping in when all hell broke loose.
Steve Kovar, Lieutenant, retired, more or less, did not like what he saw. On the good side, his station remained unengaged by the hostiles. The princess had ordered him not to fire unless fired upon and the commercial value of the station seemed to be working as its best defense.
The bad side was that his side was getting the crap beat out of them. He'd soon face a choice of surrendering or fighting a hopeless battle. He hadn't joined the Navy to give up without a fight, so he figured him and his crew for dead.
He went down the list of Kris's ships and didn't like the answer he got. The Patton was badly holed by that last salvo. She was still fighting, but didn't look long for the battle.
The Resolute had been dancing like mad, but it had taken hit after hit. Its smart armor had to be about gone. One or two more hits and… Only the Wasp was holding its own.
Steve measured the distance between his station and Hank's flagship. It wouldn't be more than two hundred klicks at closest approach. His station should be able to bring to bear eight boosted 6-inch lasers. ''Harriet, jack up the reactor. I'm gonna want all you can give.''
''You got it.''
Pumping energy into capacitors even as you discharged their lasers was something that had sparked a long series of letters to the Proceedings. Now would be a good time to see if it worked.
''Every gun that can bear, aim for the flag.'' He paused. ''Fire.''
''Oh my God,'' someone prayed on the bridge.
Kris didn't have time; she mashed guard channel. ''Hank, you're naked as a plucked chicken. Accept my cease-fire.''
''Never. I've got you.''
Lasers reached out, lashed the Patton as Sulwan dodged.
''Like hell,'' Kris muttered, and changed channels. ''Penny, you still charged?''
''Fully. Where do you want it?''
''Target Hank's engines and power.''
''I know just where they are.''
''Fire,'' Kris ordered and did the same with all she still had available.
The Incredible steamed, staggered drunkenly, rolled away from Kris, and then went dead in space.
Captain Slovo's board lit up on his command. Then it flashed red and went dead. Around him lights went out but not fast enough to conceal the horror. A huge hole blazed open in the far wall and the entire sensor team vanished in blinding light. Air blasted across his face.
''Life pods,'' Slovo shouted as he reached for the handle below his seat and pulled it. In a blink, the walls of a pod flashed around him. Transparent, it let him see the destruction of his ship. He saw his commodore, so sure of himself a moment ago, now fighting panic as he also pulled the handle. The survival pod expanded around him. Slovo breathed a sigh of relief.
Then tasted panic; the same that must be swallowing Henry Smythe-Peterwald the Thirteenth. Around Slovo, other pods showed lights as they pumped air, sent emergency signals.
Where Hank sat was deadly dark.
Kris mashed her commlink on guard channel. ''Hank, are you there? Hank, have you had enough? Hank, I'm offering you a cease-fire.''
Only static came back.
''This is Captain Kratz, Senior Captain present. I accept your offer of a cease-fire.''
''You can't do that,'' one of Hank's captains shot back.
''I can and I am,'' Kratz snapped. ''And I will see that the captain of any ship that violates my agreement is court-martialed. You want to be the one to tell Papa Peterwald that you didn't render every assistance to his son?'' That brought silence.