"Clayton Emery - Descent FreeSpace - A Thousand Years" - читать интересную книгу автора (Emery Clayton)

hull glowed cherry-red. AtsukoтАЩs thumb ached to unleash a Harbinger missile to save the
admiralтАЩs ship, but she had the admiralтАЩs orders to save her firepower for the cruiser. The
tri-wing surged closer to the flagship, and Atsuko had to cease firing. LAKOTA NIGHTS
staggered.

The comm snarled, the admiralтАЩs voice. "Rammer -- Uh! -- Carry out -- the mission!
Con-firm!"
"Confirmed, maтАЩam!" AtsukoтАЩs own voice cracked as tears ran into her oxygen mask.

Zigging and zagging to avoid the wobbling enemy craft, Atsuko watched from the corner of
her eye as the painted horse burned: burning that hot in vacuum! Admiral American HorseтАЩs
Medusa suddenly veered into the path of its nemesis like a kamikaze of old. The Shivans
didnтАЩt dodge: probably the crew was already dead. Both ships exploded in a boiling fireball
that shoved CHERRY BLOSSOM on like a giant hand.
Atsuko fired and fired again, almost blind with tears, and let the computer fire too. No need
to conserve ammunition. Tapping the ShipтАЩs Status indicator showed her the Fleet Status.
Maybe thirty Tiger ships were left in Red Flight, though several had dropped behind as their
power plants failed. A quick wingover for visual confirmation showed her Red Flight had
bored within spitting distance of RETRIBUTION. The city-sized cruiser suspended firing
amidships for fear of hitting their own GTA guys. Atsuko wondered about the pause, until
she realized the cruiser was so huge, the bridge could be overrun by Shivan assault squads
before other sections even knew it... or maybe the TigersтАЩ "secret plan" had been leaked so
the Terran crew could abandon ship.
Atsuko hoped so.

A machete-ship crabbed past, spewing wreckage and Shivan bodies. A Synaptic bomb
whistled by, close enough to touch. Ships came and went as if tossed by a whirlwind. Close
by the cruiser were scattered red spinning cluster mines. Atsuko diverted two lasers and let
the computer pop them.
The LOCK alarm by AtsukoтАЩs left hip suddenly flashed on, and she almost panicked. Instinct
made her sideslip and then wingover to shake off whatever heat-seeking missile was
chasing her vapor trail. She flicked her console to rear view, saw a silver streak, joggled the
joystick to evade --

-- and saw a Ulysses stoop like a hawk to bump the missile with a wingtip. The missile
erupted, and the Ulysses touched off in sympathetic vibration. As the ship ruptured, Atsuko
read the name CITY OF NEW ORLEANS on the blistered hull. She whispered, "Thanks,
Butterfly."

Now came AtsukoтАЩs turn.
Before her loomed the cruiser. All around her soared Shivans and too few Tigers.

"Afterburners ready!"

"Ready," replied the computer.
"Afterburners -- ON!"
Atsuko was slammed back into her seat as her Hercules was kicked in the tail. With all
rockets firing, she zoomed away from her doomed escort and aimed her craft like an arrow
for the RETRIBUTIONтАЩs conning tower.