Coming out of the sun was one of the oldest tricks in aviation, largely because it worked. Even in the latter days of flying, when radar and lidar turned even the most venerable of maneuvers into a trickier proposition, there were still times when the slight edge it gave a pilot was all that they needed. And that was in the atmosphere of Earth, where the worst of the solar radiation had been filtered out by the layers of protection that made the planet habitable. Out here in space, there was nothing to protect the fighters’ sensors from the charged solar wind and the intense radiation, and it showed. The best Samuels was getting was an intermittent group of bandits that faded in and out, seemingly at will.

“Angel Lead, this is Racer,” Gabrielle’s voice echoed over the tac-net. “Fox Three.”

And the battle was joined.

“How many HVMs do we have left in stores, Ensign?” Weston glanced over to Susan Lamont.

She’d put the munitions list on one of her quick-call commands before the battle and had the data quickly. “We’ve expended about eighty percent of our standard load, sir.”

Weston nodded, noting with some amusement that, despite the gravity of the situation, her voice was almost apologetic. “Thank you, Ensign.”

It wasn’t her fault, of course. There was no way for anyone to know that they’d be in a situation that was anything even remotely like this. Had they planned going into an actual war zone, the load would probably have been ten times that taken aboard.

This meant that they had about half of a full salvo left, totally discharged pulse tubes, and their laser array left to fend off two of the enemy warships.

It could always be worse, Weston thought. The Block could have succeeded in getting that reporter, Miss Lynn, assigned as an observer.

He briefly considered the order he had given Commander Roberts to recall the Archangels and make a run for it, but he knew that would be pointless now. The acceleration curves on the alien ships were superior to the Odyssey’s, though not by as much as first thought, and that would permit them to run her down long before she reached the heliopause.

So, as instinct and nature did so command, when flight was no longer an option, the human animal had one more option remaining.

And fight it was.

“I…I think we got a hit!” Racer’s voice called over the tac-net. “It’s hard to tell…There was a thermal bloom, but it was masked by the sun!”

“All Archangels,” Stephanos’s voice smoothly slid over the tac-net, “increase velocity, spread formation.”

Samuels pushed the thrust controls forward as the fighter roared at her back. All around her, the others did the same. The fighters spread out, still accelerating as they closed the distance with the enemy and leapt ahead into the brilliant, yet decidedly ghastly, red glare coming from the system’s primary.