I relaxed into the acceleration couch, surprised to realize how much I had missed the cool green and amber displays projected on my visor. I even missed the dry plastic-tasting air hissing into my helmet. I took a moment to scan the fighter's cockpit and ignored the three-G acceleration. Executing a quick rotation to test the cybernetic link's responsiveness, I kept the Cack warship centered in my sights. As I rolled my fast attack craft, my accompanying fleet of sensor pods and ECM drones pin-wheeled around me. Great Maker! How I 've missed this!

"Are you ready for this, Zoomer?" Fleet Sub-Commander Chris Knight sounded bored, though the sensors said his ship was half a click away on a parallel course to the warship.

"Oh, yeah!"

"We'll reach its threat zone in less than sixty seconds. Standby for overtake," Chris said.

My counter display was at five seconds and counting down, but at one second from zero a fleet of missiles launched from Torchbearer roared past at close to a hundred gravities. I say "roared" because the situational awareness sub-systems provided 3D sound for objects moving nearby. When combined with all the other alert tones the cockpit of a fighter can be deafening and yet, somehow, the brain manages to sort out all the messages.

"Missile Flare," Chris announced unnecessarily.

My ship had already tagged the enemy missiles from the optical sensor data and correlated it with the Torchbearer's gravimetric sensors. The incoming missiles had only closed half of the distance before Torchbearer's missiles began exploding. Expanding spheres, each a mix of hard gamma and other EM radiation destroyed some missiles and blinded the rest. They couldn't use shrapnel because our fighters were only seconds behind them.

"Initiating Evasion Plan Theta," I said before Chris could play flight leader.

"Copy that, I'm going with Epsilon."

Our ships began rotating on all three axes, seemingly thrusting at random, though actually navigating us around the worst of the hard radiation.  Hopefully, we would slip past any surviving missiles and approach the Cack warship from  unexpected vectors.

An ear-piercing tone told me a stray missile had managed to lock onto me. The fighter blew chaff and jinked around at black-out inducing Gs. A flash of light followed and one of my ECM drones exploded. My three remaining ECM drones repositioned themselves relative to my fighter and continued screaming as if they were full-sized heavy battlecruisers. My sensor pods, each natural--if smaller--targets, stayed in formation. They began sending back detailed info on the Cack warship as we circled the last cloud of radiation and started our attack runs.

Target suggestions sprouted across my display, each encoded with the fighter's estimation of the threat value. Almost as quickly, Chris began tagging the ones he wanted. "Hey! Quit taking all the good ones," I said.

"If you want them, you'll have to take them from me."

"Now I know where you got your call sign, Klepto."

Taking into account our differing approach vectors, I flagged all the high-value targets I thought I could reach first, then any secondary targets he was likely to miss. The fighter displayed its suggested flight plan and I OK'd it. At the speeds we would be traveling, human navigation was impossible. I was already inside the reach of the Cack's missiles; I could only hope my speed was great enough their defensive targeting systems wouldn't have time to track me. 

My tiny craft shuddered with the release of its missiles. Though smaller than those launched by Torchbearer, my missiles had nearly as much impact. Since I was providing most of their propulsion, the majority of their antimatter could be reserved for their payload.

The Cack ship flashed by, a blur on my display. My particle emission weapons raked its hull while behind me, spheres of pure white light flared across the ship's surface. I flipped my craft around in a near one-eighty, giving myself just enough lateral movement to reach the back side of the Cack ship while burning off as much velocity as I could stand. On the far side of the warship, Chris Knight was doing the same, though his arc was much tighter. "Cheater," I said, noting he was pulling around nine-and-one-half Gs.

This was the most dangerous part of the maneuver. Though my engine strained to push my craft towards the Cack ship, my momentum was carrying me backward into missile threat range. I crossed the line just as my delta-V relative to the Cack ship reached zero and I started moving forward again. I thought I had gotten away with it until my fighter squawked its awareness of missile flares.

My ship flagged the incoming threats and selected an anti-missile response, urging me to OK it with flashing lights. I confirmed the order and selected an evasion pattern that would bring me in towards the drive section at the rear of the Cack warship. The fighter shuddered as the anti-missile missiles launched. They had less punch than the ones with which I had attacked the Cack ship, but they had much greater thrust. As they flew away, a screamer shot off at an acute angle blasting out a loud radar signal that drew off three incoming missiles on a wild goose chase.

Explosions flashed ahead and my fighter jerked around, dodging debris, radiation and remaining missiles. As I neared the Cack ship, I started prioritizing targets. Chris, having come in much faster, was already making his attack run. My slower speed also made it easier for the Cack point defense systems to find and target me. They began firing particle emission weapons as soon as I came within range.

High energy streams of sub-atomic particles flashed past at light speed while my ship lurched back and forth. My own energy weapons carved furrows in the Cack ship's hull while my missiles left craters behind. My ship had just taken out a weapon turret and swung toward a high-value missile launcher when Sub-commander Chris Knight's craft swept in and blasted it. At virtually the same moment, the turret that had been trying to distinguish me from my one remaining ECM pod, locked onto him and fired. I heard him whooping and laughing as the weapon punched through his ship and blew the hull plates from its frame.

I finished the attack run, then punched the emergency eject button which shut down the simulation and opened the Remotely Operated Vehicle control pod.

Chris was still laughing. "I beat you!"

I took off the com helmet and handed it to an equipment tech waiting nearby. "And died."

"I still got three points on you."

"By cheating." I couldn't hold back a wry grin. "We agreed to simulate manned vehicles, not ROVs. What was up with that nine-G turn?"

"Hey, I've done nine Gs before."

"Not in combat, and—I wager—not conscious."

Chris shrugged and laughed. I climbed out of the ROV control pod. A couple of spacers drifted nearby, waiting to service the pods to ensure they would always be ready in the event of real combat in which real ROV pilots would operate real attack craft.

Chris clapped me on the shoulder. "The pilots should finish their mandatory flight hours by next week. Want me to schedule a rematch?"

"No. I've got a regular seat at Kouvaras' poker game. Redburn thinks he's figured out a tell when I bluff and keeps walking into all my good hands."

Chris had a slightly puzzled look on his face. I was certain he had no idea who Redburn was. "So, are you faking a tell when you bluff?"

I laughed as I dug my netpiece out of a pocket and snapped it on over my ear. "No. I'm a terrible bluffer. That's why I don't do it."

An alert icon flashed in my field of vision. I opened the message. "Looks like I've got to go."

"C&C?" Chris stared up into the middle distance, evidently reading a similar message. "Me too. Something's up."

* * *

The acceleration alarm sounded before we got half-way to C&C, so we jumped to the nearest stern bulkhead just as the one-G acceleration alarm sounded. Five seconds later, the bulkhead leaped up under us and became the floor, leaving us to clatter down a half-dozen ladders as we zig-zagged from compartment to compartment. "Does this feel like one G to you?" I asked as I climbed, gasping, down to the command deck.

"It always feels like more after a few days of weightlessness," Chris wheezed.

We hurried into the C&C. Phil, Kacsmaryk, and Harlow were already sitting around the holographic table.

"Glad you two could join us," Phil said wryly.

Chris slid into a seat at the table. "We were just running some combat simulations."

"Well, I hope you have some time for real combat." Phil did not smile. I could tell he was not in a good mood.

I had heard that contract negotiations had been grueling. The ships that had defected to Sherman's fleet signed on with his Consolidated Colonial Space Force. This left Innman's Pilgrims seriously under-manned and gutted The Patriotic Force of the Free Government of the Thousand and sparked fights among the other fleet commanders. Some of Phil's owner-operators had even challenged his command. He narrowly survived a call for a vote of no-confidence by members of the board.

"I take it we're boosting for That Which Overturns?" I asked.

"Yes." Phil caught Sub-Commander Harlow's eye. "Brian, why don't you brief us?"

"Yes, sir." Harlow rose and called up a holographic display of a ring of four transit stations. Instead of a star and system of planets, shadowy fingers stretched through the space between the gates. Brian touched the data-panel and one of the transit stations glowed brightly. "This is the Outer Gate that connects what Those Who Dwell Within refer to as their economic zone with the outer worlds of the Moiarchy."

Chris looked at me and yawned.

"The economic zone consists of systems with which they have some sort of trade relationship such as our own. The outer worlds are semi-independent protectorates and are overseen by Doggedly and a few other regional managers.

Fading Glory—I'm told his real name translates as Ancient Glory but Shines Like the Sun obviously doesn't get along with him—anyway, our target, is situated somewhere inside the middle sphere. "This—" the display expanded to show more systems and more transit stations with a glowing light threading through them. "—is the main trade route through the outer worlds. Most of this area lies deep within the Sagittarius Arm of the galaxy and is thick with hydrogen gas, stellar debris, and dense nebulae. Since the debris could easily overload our QWEGs, the fleet will be forced into narrow, winding and easily defended channels."

As my eyes followed the path, I remembered the kairogram Dr. Swiftly had shown me. The pattern was similar and I wondered if it were possible to use my kairogram as a literal map through space. It was an absurd thought, but I decided I'd have to look at it again when I got back to my quarters.

"So, what's the plan?" Chris asked. "Do we just make a break for it, try to blast through their defenses before they can concentrate on us?"

"That would not be optimal," Phil said.

Cathrine's brow furrowed. "We've been waiting for something."

Brian turned a surprised expression on Phil. "Have we been negotiating with Doggedly for passage?"

Phil continued frowning at the display.  "Sunshine has, but so far Doggedly has been cagey with his support."

"It's Moony," I said. "We're waiting for him to do something."

Phil gave a single nod. "One of Sunshine's ships has docked with the Outer Gate transit station and seeded their EPRs with the Cack media feeds. We've learned that Moony has been seen well inside Doggedly's territory. Unless Doggedly has fully committed to opposing Sunshine, he now has an excuse to let us through his territory. He's got a large enemy force deep in his territory, one that also holds his wife hostage."

"Hostage? I thought he was escorting her."

Cathrine turned a bemused expression on me as if I couldn't possibly be as naïve as I appeared to be.

"I'm sure Sunshine would present it that way," Phil said. "The reality, however, is a little more complicated."

"So how will we know what Doggedly's decision will be?" I asked, eager to keep the subject off me.

Phil sighed. "We'll know when we transit the gate and they either start shooting or not."