Thrawn Ascendancy Book 3: Lesser Evil
- Автор: Зан Тимоти
- Год: 2021
- Язык: английский
- Год: Random House
- ISBN: 9781473596580
- Жанр: Боевая фантастика
Электронная книга - «Thrawn Ascendancy Book 3: Lesser Evil». Краткое содержание книги:
Raamas, at the weapons board, was on it. Even before Roscu finished her order the Orisson’s lasers were blazing at full intensity toward the pitted section of the SkySweep’s hull. There was a glint of muted interior light as the lasers sliced through to the compartments beyond—
And that entire section of the ship exploded violently.
“Got it,” Roscu snarled. “Okay, Vigilant, the others can finish it off on their own. You have my vector?”
“Sending it now,” Ar’alani said. “Good work, all of you. Now get in position, Orisson, and let’s see if this actually works.”
The Springhawk’s final salvo of breachers thundered toward the Armageddon, the last remaining Grysk midsized StoneCrusher warship.
Unfortunately, between the enemy’s lasers and dibbers, the salvo ended up being as ineffective as all of Samakro’s previous attempts. Whoever was commanding this particular warship was damn good at his job. “I’m out of breachers,” he reported. “You have my new target?”
“Location and vector sent,” Thrawn said.
“You heard the senior captain, Azmordi,” Samakro said. “Get us out of here.”
“Acknowledged,” Azmordi said, and the battle and starscape twisted crazily as he put the Springhawk into a tight turn and accelerated away from the Armageddon with all the speed he could manage.
Which was considerably below the Springhawk’s normal capabilities, Samakro noted uneasily. Like all the rest of the Chiss warships, he’d taken his share of damage from the battle, and reduced speed and maneuverability were a big part of that bundle. If the Armageddon decided to chase down its latest opponent and finish it off, the Springhawk would seem to be in serious trouble.
If the Armageddon didn’t see it that way, this whole careful setup would be for nothing.
The Springhawk settled onto the vector Thrawn had sent, and Samakro smiled tightly. No, the Armageddon would come after him, all right. Thrawn was sending him directly toward a pair of injured BattleChiefs fighting a group of patrol cruisers and Paccian gunboats. The Springhawk’s sudden insertion into that melee would seriously tip the odds in the Chiss’s favor, and he doubted Jixtus would let that happen without at least making an effort to stop it. Especially since saving the BattleChiefs would have the bonus of giving the Armageddon the chance to eliminate the Springhawk and deprive Thrawn of one of his heavy cruisers.
“Springhawk, slow four percent,” Thrawn called. “The Grayshrike’s in position, but the Orisson’s still on its way.”
“Acknowledged,” Samakro said, watching the tactical as Oeskym obediently slowed the Springhawk’s acceleration. The Armageddon was still maintaining its own acceleration, he noted, possibly even picking up the pace a bit. “Come on, Roscu,” he muttered under his breath.
“I’m here,” Roscu’s voice came over the speaker. “You can pick it up again, Springhawk.”
“In fact, increase your acceleration by ten percent,” Thrawn put in. “We want to make sure he can’t evade.”
“Acknowledged,” Samakro said. “Oeskym, ten percent increase.”
And as the Springhawk once again leapt forward Samakro took a quick look out the sides of the bridge viewports. Thrawn had said that the Grayshrike and Orisson were in position.
Samakro hoped he was right. Because he sure as hell couldn’t see either of them.
The Grayshrike was in position. Directly in front of it, five kilometers away, the Orisson faced it bow-to-bow like some distant mirror image. In the distance off to the Grayshrike’s portside, Ziinda could see the Springhawk racing along a line bisecting the one between her and the Orisson. The Grysk StoneCrusher warship Armageddon was racing along behind it in hot pursuit.
Not just in pursuit, but closing rapidly. “Do we have a count?” she called toward the mike.
“We do,” Thrawn’s calm voice came back. “Grayshrike, Orisson: Lock breachers.”
“Breachers locked,” Ghaloksu confirmed.
“Breachers locked,” Raamas echoed from the Orisson.
“Stand ready,” Thrawn said. “Three, two, one.”
The Grayshrike twitched, and the two breacher missiles Ghaloksu had set up blasted away, heading directly toward the Orisson.
Ziinda watched the tactical, distantly aware that she was holding her breath. She’d already noted that the Grysk warships gave small, random tweaks to their speeds and accelerations, presumably as a way of thwarting any attempt by the Chiss to hit them with side-approach breachers or spheres.
The critical question now was whether the Armageddon’s commander would spot these two pairs of missiles, reflexively and incorrectly assume they were aimed at him, and take evasive action. Hopefully, he would instead wait for the numbers, realize the missiles were going to pass harmlessly well ahead of him, and continue on with his goal of chasing down and destroying the Springhawk.
“Track confirmed,” Ghaloksu said softly, as if afraid talking too loudly would disturb the missiles’ paths. “Orisson track confirmed.” Ahead, the Springhawk flashed across the intersect line ahead of the missiles, still running from the Armageddon for all it was worth.
A fraction of a second later the breachers from the Grayshrike and those from the Orisson slammed together nose-to-nose, their exactly equal and exactly opposite vectors canceling out to bring all four missiles to an instantaneous halt. An instant after that the metal-crushing impact shattered them, sending a thick acid cloud bursting outward directly in the Armageddon’s path.
And with less than half a second’s warning, and no chance to do anything else, the Grysk warship drove straight through the cloud.
“Got it!” Raamas shouted triumphantly. “Springhawk, you’re clear.”
“I see it,” Samakro’s voice came back. “Azmordi, yaw one-eighty. Let’s take it down.”
“Orisson, move to assist,” Thrawn ordered.
“We can help, too,” Ziinda put in, a flicker of old reflexive suspicion running through her. Surely Thrawn wasn’t trying to squeeze her out of her share of the glory again, was he?
“You’re needed elsewhere, Grayshrike,” Thrawn said. “Get over to Apros’s gunboat as quickly as you can.
“Jixtus has figured it out.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
“Uh-oh,” Ar’alani said. Two of the Grysk BattleChiefs had abruptly broken off from the Chiss forces and were on the move.
Heading straight for the Paccian gunship that held the Vagaari gravity-well generator. “Thrawn?” she called.
“I see it,” he said. “Mid Captain Apros, I think you’ve been identified. Get ready to run.”