“Aye, Captain.”

Thumbing a control on the panel of his armrest, Weston opened a channel to Stephanos. “Angel One, this is the Odyssey. You are clear to attack; keep your squad out of the fire zone between the Odyssey and the enemy capital vessel. Good luck, Steph.”

CHAPTER 12

STEPHANOS FELT THE kick of the fighter’s acceleration push him back into his seat before the CM stabilizer activated and the pressure equalized. He didn’t have to check to know that the other fighters were still in perfect formation around him. They were all Archangels, and that was all he needed to know. He had led them against more than one enemy group; he knew his people and he trusted them.

As the sleek fighters rocketed toward their target, the alien battle group sent a squad to intercept the twelve incoming Archangels.

Stephanos blinked twice as he looked at his screens. “Four! They’re sending four fighters to intercept us?”

Archangel Eight, a young man nicknamed “Brute,” was quick to respond: “Yeah, don’t seem hardly right. You’d think they would treat us with some respect—at least in our first encounter.”

“Their loss, Brute. Let’s frag ’em and leave the debris for someone else to worry about,” said the fourth Archangel, a reckless woman who went by the aptly chosen call sign “Flare.”

“Angels Three, Four, and Eight, you’re with me. The rest of you stay on vector to intercept the aliens’ primary fighter group.” Stephanos banked hard, slipping out of the formation and accelerating toward the four hostiles coming after them.

The four fighters slipped into a tightly stacked diamond formation, the front and rear fighters offset vertically so they didn’t block each other’s shots. They approached the curiously shaped alien fighters, each pilot trying to ride the edge of tension and relaxation that created the optimum reaction time.

The alien fighters, for their part, remained solidly on an intercept course for the bulk of the Archangel squadron and ignored the four fighters burning on vector toward them.

“All right, I’m sending you your targets. Finish them fast and head back to the main group.” Stephanos figured that either the aliens were seriously underestimating them or they had something else up their sleeves.

The other Archangels acknowledged the order and locked onto their assigned targets. On Stephanos’s order, they broke their diamond formation and flew in toward their individual targets.

Brute broke onto the tactical network (tac-net) seconds later: “I think they just locked on. Computer can’t confirm it, but my instruments just went nuts.”

“Roger that, stay clear and be ready to go evasive.”

Brute acknowledged quickly, but Stephanos could see his emotions echoed as clearly in his flying as if he had a sign pointed at him saying “nervous.”

“Relax, Brute, you’ll screw up your stabilizers flying like that,” Stephanos commanded, noting the shaky flying with annoyance. Brute knew better than that.