Star Wars_ The Black Fleet Crisis 03_ Tyrant's Test - Michael P. Kube-McDowell [87]
“Yes, sir?”
“Let’s close the gap a little. Give me ten percent forward thrust until we clear the asteroid ring. Otherwise maintain course, hands off. We’re going to follow her in.”
A little more than an hour later, the Yevethan ship began a long braking maneuver that ended with it disappearing behind the limb of the third planet. By that time, the patrol group had closed to within half a million kilometers, bringing the planet within range of its full array of sensors.
“Any sign of anything in orbit?” Brand demanded.
“Negative,” said the sensor chief. “But we haven’t seen complete orbital tracks for anything above two thousand kilometers.”
“Given its approach, the most probable orbit for the target is three-two-five-zero klicks,” the tracking officer announced.
Brand walked to the forward viewscreens. “Show me,” he said, and a three-dimensional tactical map appeared side by side with the forward view.
Indomitable’s first officer, Captain Tobbra, had a career book that was unremarkable in every respect, the product of a long habit of erring on the side of caution. That caution had been freshly renewed by a new baby back on Trallan, Tobbra’s homeworld.
Tobbra was keenly aware that but for a few months’ seniority, the flag chair might have been his instead. As it was, he thought of it as a shared command, and saw it as his role to counterbalance Brand’s excesses.
“Commodore, if we get any closer, that ship’s sure to spot us when she comes around,” he said in a guarded voice, joining Brand.
“I don’t doubt it,” said Brand.
“If we stand off here, even back off a bit, Folna should be able to get everything we need for Five-Tac,” Tobbra pressed, using the slang term for the fleet commander’s tactical staff.
“That’s true as well,” said Brand. “But right now, we have the advantage—we know where they are, and they don’t know we’re here. You’d have me surrender that advantage.”
“We don’t have to try to do this alone,” said Tobbra. “If there’s a shipyard here, Five-Tac will send us some thumpers the moment we send them confirmation.”
“And if there’s a shipyard here, the Yevetha will try to reinforce its defenses the moment we’re detected,” said Brand. “Can you promise me our ships will get here before theirs?”
Tobbra frowned in silence.
“I thought not,” said Brand. “Detection and destruction of the shipyards is our priority mission, Captain. Let’s get on with it. We’re going to use our advantage and ambush that T-type. Then we’ll take care of whatever it’s here to visit.”
“Commodore, we don’t even know what it takes to knock out a T-type.”
Brand shook his head. “Someone needs to find out. I like the odds.”
“But, Commodore—”
“End of discussion, Captain.” Brand turned away from the viewscreen and called out to the comm officer. “Let me speak to Folna.”
“On your number one,” came the smart reply.
Brand clicked his comlink on. “Captain Madis.”
“Yes, Commodore.”
“We’re taking Vanguard in to engage. Break formation and hold station. I want you here to record and relay.”
“Affirmative, Commodore,” Madis said. “We’ll get you some good pictures for the scrapbook.”
“I know you will,” said Brand. He switched his comlink so that his orders would be echoed to the gunship, then looked up into a score of expectant faces.
“Time to settle up for Doornik Three-nineteen,” he said grimly. “Comm, upgrade the alert to conflict-red. Tac, launch the fighter screen. Stand by to launch bombers. Helm, give me eighty percent thrust and an intercept on the hostile’s projected orbit. Vanguard, close up and stay with us. I don’t want you to miss the first act.”
The moment the siren began keening through the forward flight deck, Esege Tuketu threw down his tiles and jumped up from his seat. He had been in his flight suit for hours, and had loosened the closures at the neck, wrists, and waist. As he ran toward his bomber, he struggled to close them, giving him a clumsy dance of a gait.
Skids was already