That is the place to press. Darkwind will secure the flank. But the enemy center is the route to victory.

He pulled the throttle to the side, bringing his fighter around, facing toward the very midpoint of the battle. Then he took a deep breath, and he pulled back hard, feeling the g-forces slam into him as his engines fired at full power. There was pain, his chest felt on fire, but he ignored it. He’d seen the route to victory, and there was no place for anything else. Not now.

*   *   *

Olya “Lynx” Federov sat in the cockpit of her fighter. The Lightning-class attack craft that formed the mainstay of the Confederation’s fighter corps were sleek and powerful. The pilots of the fleet almost universally loved the design, save for one factor. The cockpits were too small, too cramped. But Federov didn’t care. She was slight in build, barely forty-five kilograms, and not much taller than a meter and a half. Her body was lithe, flexible. She’d wanted to be a dancer when she was younger, until she’d seen a squadron of fighters putting on a show on the vid. Flight had captured her imagination that day, and her life became a relentless pursuit of a slot at the Academy, one which saw success three days after her nineteenth birthday, when she received her billet in the following year’s class.

That had been almost twelve years earlier, and Federov had long since given up her cadet’s circlets, first for an ensign’s insignia and then for lieutenant’s bars. She’d served six years as a second lieutenant, and then she’d gotten her promotion to first grade…and the command of a squadron on Dauntless, arriving on the same shuttle as the battleship’s new commander. She and Captain Barron had spent the trip in conversation, and by the time they had docked, Federov hoped she had given the famous officer reason for confidence in his new squadron leader. She was certain she’d developed that trust herself in Dauntless’s captain. Tyler Barron wasn’t boastful, but there was something about the simple, calm confidence he exuded that created almost instant trust.

Federov was a dedicated officer on her own account, but she felt an added burden on Dauntless, the need to never let Captain Barron down. And since the probes around Santis and its moons started banging away with their active scanners, her instincts were on fire. There was more here than orbiting sensors. She was sure of that.

“Red nine and Red ten…begin your orbit and report.”

“Red leader, this is Red nine. We are approaching the planet. We should enter in…” There was a pause, one that made Federov’s stomach twist into a tight knot. “Red leader, we’re getting other contacts. It looks like some kind of satellites…wait, we’re getting an energy spike…”

“Get out of there, Red nine. Now!”