“Doverly to Argent.”

The flagship of Strike Fleet Perseus was abuzz with urgent activities, none of which were performed with the expectation that their Executive Officer would be hailing them in the middle of a fighter and gunship engagement. Nevertheless, the junior fourth watch officer manning the battleship’s signals station at the moment the channel opened knew Commander Annora Doverly, one of the five infamous Bandit Jacks, was not someone who could be asked to leave a message.

“Captain, we’re being hailed by Commander Doverly.”

“On speakers, ensign.” Jason Hunter waited a moment for the intership to switch channels. “Argent, Hunter. Go ahead Commander.”

“Jason, our squadrons are up against automated opposition. Orca’s fighter attack and defense patterns are pre-programmed. All we’re doing is blowing a bunch of unoccupied Skywatch hardware to pieces.”

“How certain are you?” Hunter already knew the answer to that question. He asked it more to confirm his own surprise than to challenge his XO’s knowledge of fighter operations. Among her many skills and ranges of expertise, Annora had become somewhat of a flight deck operations specialist in the time she had served with both Hunter’s squadron and aboard the two ships she had been assigned to since. She was Argent’s first watch Force Commander and more than capable of taking the controls of the lethal little ships she sent into space if need be.

One thing Hunter knew was if anyone in the Strike Fleet could speak with authority about what a competent human-piloted fighter should look like, it was his XO.

“I wasn’t sure until I saw their pursuit banks. Every time the Orca’s fighters pass one of our fighters, they perform exactly the same turn with exactly the same engine vectors and flight radius. We’re in a pitched battle with a bunch of robots, Captain.”

A light went on.

“If that’s true, Commander, they were pre-programmed for a joust, not a fistfight.”

“Sir?”

“I’m going to trust you are correct on this, Hearts. Get me commander Fury. Quick!” There was a momentary pause. The channel clicked.

“Fury. Hunter.”

“Change in plans, Commander. I want the formation redeployed for main battery assault. Target: DSS Kingsblade.”

“Say again, Argent?” Jason’s sister’s voice was nine parts incredulous and one part annoyed.

“You heard me, Commander. Our fighters have done their job. They just shined a big spotlight on Task Force Poseidon’s weakness, and not only am I going to exploit it, I’m going to take both of those fleets intact. Acknowledge and signal readiness to Argent Force Command.” Hunter swiveled in his command chair.

“Notify Flight Operations to recall our squadrons immediately. We will rendezvous en route. Pilot, hard about! Course one nine zero mark five! Tactical, charge main batteries one through four. Maximum power for assault range strike. All power to forward battle screens. I want a hard waveform lock on the Kingsblade’s reactors the moment we break range.”

“Might I ask what we’re doing, sir?” McInerney asked as respectfully as she could from the helm.

“We’re about to kick a fat ship right through its hat. All ahead battle speed!”

What happened next would have given even the most experienced enemy officer pause. DSS Argent, a rather large and formidable ship on her own, even if compared with her pursuing adversaries, suddenly accelerated into a sweeping port-side turn. Along her flanks, the strike cruiser Fury and her two escort cruisers turned with her and redeployed into a battle line, configuring their missile and energy weapons to support their flagship. Moments later, Hunter’s ship accelerated into an aggressive intercept course with the mighty DSS Kingsblade. The range between the two behemoth combatants began to close at an alarming rate.

“What in the name of all that is good and right is he doing?” Jayce Hunter muttered, letting her chin rest on her fists as she watched her brother’s flagship surge out of its turn.

“What he does best, ma’am,” Annora replied. “Turn a momentary advantage into a win.”