An impeccably synchronized wing of top-of-the-line strike fighters peeled off one by one as they fired their torpedos right into the teeth of DSS Ajax. The heavier battle frigate banked tightly in pursuit of the destructive little ships, while its storied anti-missile batteries went to war against the lethal inbounds.

“El Jefe” and his wingman shot past Ajax’s approach vector, tailing the trailing enemy fighter, with a menacing black T-Hawk racing along behind them to provide fire support. As if suddenly awake, the enemy fighter twisted in one direction then banked back again, attempting to evade Gato One’s fire acquisition. Tichborne’s wingman was pasted into formation like a tightened bolt, never veering more than six meters from his flight leader’s right weapon point.

All five fighters opened up at once, filling space with reflex battery fire from their aft weapons arrays. Everything that missed slammed into T-Hawk Three and was absorbed into her shields, where it was instantly converted and re-routed to her panic reactors. Argent’s fighters had the point, so the T-Hawk held her fire. Behind it, Ajax was in equally hot pursuit of the little furball that had kicked up.

A moment later, all five enemy fighters snap-banked in diverging courses. Gato One and his wingman pulled up and chased their original target. T-Hawk Three spun left and chased two more, while Ajax took their flight leader’s course on a starboard rolling dive. The moment all the drive fields cleared, Ajax opened up with proximity blasts from her forward guns.

The little fighter dodged, ducked and spun, but there was nowhere to go. An instant later, Ajax’s targeting systems locked and the next shot vaporized the target.

“Splash one!” her tactical officer shouted.

“Very good. Get us back on an intercept vector with flight leader 994,” Commander Harcourt ordered. “Maintain double screens forward and re-route all non-essential power to the reactor dampeners.”

Ajax performed a tight climbing port bank on an intercept vector for Tichborne’s pursuit track. As she came around, her primary weapons gained locks on all ranged targets. “Stand by your guns, tactical. Pilot, I want us to climb into that turn. Get us back in the war. All ahead battle speed.”

Meanwhile, inside Gato One, the drive field was spiking again and again as Tichborne’s angry little fighter snapped and bit at its fleeing target. The targeting tone sounded in his helmet as the vessel’s high-speed acquisition computer tried to line up a shot. First the enemy fighter would split right, then back left. Gato One stayed with it while Tichborne’s computer swerved over to the new vector and tried to match bearings.

Out of nowhere, DSS Minstrel appeared in front of the entire chase. With nowhere to go, the enemy wing sprayed destruction at the compact little warship, and then they got a rude education in the firepower differential between a two-man fighter and a frigate. Minstrel’s twin gun batteries opened up with a percussive and intense barrage of lethal energy bolts. Enemy fighter two was ripped in half an instant before fighter one took a piercing shot right through the cockpit. A brief flash and there was nothing left but tumbling wreckage.

“Analysis, quickly,” Lieutenant Rebecca Islington ordered. Her sensor operator examined the broken hulls of the two fighters for telltale signs of organic life.

“Negative readings, ma’am,” the tech replied. “There was nobody aboard those fighters.”

“Very well. Coordinate all your sensor data and relay your findings to Ajax. My recommendation is to report this information to the flag and request instructions. Helm, give me a starboard turn and lay in a new course six zero mark one. Tactical, cycle your weapons and report readiness on a thirty-second alert. All ahead flank.”

“Helm answering new course six zero mark one all ahead flank, aye.”

DSS Minstrel accelerated into formation with her sister ship and prepared to engage the next attacking squadron.