"Hawke, Simon - Descent-FreeSpace - Hammer of Light, Omen of Darkness" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hawke Simon)

"Heads up." He pointed to a couple of helmeted pilots hurrying their way, rushing toward one of the silver and gold fighters parked in front of them. "You take the one on the left...."
Two stun blasts and they were down. They ran out and quckly dragged them back out of the way. "Get their helmets off," said Harlow.
"TheyТll never fit," said Rafferty. "TheyТre much too big! And weТll never get into their uniforms!"
"We donТt have to," Harlow replied, as he tugged a helmet off one of the unconscious pilots. "Once weТre in the cockpit, all theyТll see is our helmets. And they wonТt have to fit perfectly. The cockpits have their own life support systems that kick in once the canopies lock down. Now hurry up!"
They donned the helmets and climbed up into the cockpit of the nearest fighter, settling into the seats just as other pilots appeared running towards their craft on the Flight Deck.
"What happens now?" asked Rafferty. "What am I supposed to do?"
"Nothing," Harlow told her. "Just sit tight and look like you belong there. Fighter launch procedures are not handled by the pilot. The launch crews and automated capapults take care of that. LetТs just hope they follow the battle drill and get us launched as fast as possible without a whole lot of preliminaries. If we have to do a flight check, weТre screwed."
The fighter pivoted on its remote-controlled locking mounts as the launch crews brought it up in line to the next lift platform. Harlow scanned the unfamiliar instruments as diagnostics readouts flashed by automatically in a language he could not make hide nor hair of.
"WeТre never going to get away with this," said Rafferty.
"Shut up and let me think, dammit," Harlow replied, curtly. He could not translate the readouts, but he knew roughly what theyТd have to be saying if everything was optimal. In seconds, years of training took over and he started to see certain parallels in the design of the instrumentation with the Ulysses fighter. The control had been designed for larger Vasudan hands, and longer Vasudan arms, but he could work them. It wasnТt really all the different from the Ulysses design....
"Harlow...."
"I see them...."
As the fighter was brought up on the track, the launch team was signaling something, clearly waiting for a response. Harlow gambled and made a quick, vague gesture with his arm, then imitated the pigeon-headed nod.
The fighter shuddered slightly as it slid into the launch platformТs locking chocks and started to rise toward the Launch Bay. The canopy slid forward with a whine and locked into place.
"Cross your fingers...." Harlow said.
"Oh, boy...." said Rafferty.
The fighter jerked forward and snapped into position in the catapult, then the locking chocks released. "Okay, stand by," said Harlow. "Engines on...."
The engines came on as the weapons banks lowered into place and locked in on their mounting struts.
"Yes!" said Harlow. "Okay. Here goes nothing...."
The Launch Bay doors opened and the catapult hurled the fighter out into space as Harlow slammed the stick forward as far as it would go and they shot away from the ship, gaining speed rapidly.
"We did it! We made it!" Rafferty cried.
"Not yet we havenТt," Harlow said. "In about five seconds, the squadronТs leaderТs going to realize weТre deviating from formation and heТll want to know why in one hell of a hurry."
"And then what?"
"Depends how fast it takes them to figure out who we are. And how busy theyТre going to be with those incoming fighters."
"What incoming fighters? I donТt see anything."
"Check your displays."
"Which one?"
"The large square one to the right."
"The one with all the little dots?"
"Yeh," said Harlow. "Those Сlittle dotsТ are blips, Lieutenant. And each one is a Ulysses fighter from the Imperial Vasudan Fleet. TheyТre coming in hot, in battle formation, at about eleven oТclock. We should have visual contact in about two minutes."
"Well...thatТs good, right? I mean, theyТre on our side."
"Yeh, except they donТt know it," Harlow said.
"Right," said Rafferty. "WeТre in one of the HammerТs fighters. You can radio them, right?"
"Maybe.... If I can find the damn radio controls ... and if theyТll listen."
"Harlow...."
A burst of rapid Vasudan came over his com.
"Damn. I think they just figured out who the hell we are," said Harlow.
Several of the HammerТs fighters peeled off from their formation and gave pursuit. A moment later, a familiar voice came over the com.
"Commander Harlow," said Admiral Tallanis, "you are abusing my hospitality."
"Really?" Harlow said. "I thought I was a prisoner of war. And isnТt it a prisoner of warТs first duty to attempt escape?"
"Harlow! TheyТre coming!" Rafferty cried.
"I know. I see Сem on the monitor. You know how to work the weapons systems?"
"IТm a medic, not a goddamn gunner!"
"Well, I donТt need a medic! Damn it, weТll just have to do the best we can. Listen....there should be a fire control console just to your right, by your knee, I think...."
"Okay. I think I got it."
"You should have a row of toggles right across the top. Flick Сem all up to arm the guns."
"What if theyТre the wrong ones? I donТt want to go hitting an ejector seat or anything."
"Well, youТll find out soon enough."
"Terrific."
"Harlow, this escape attempt is doomed to fail," Tallanis came back over the com. "I cannot have you hijacking one of my fighters. I cannot afford to lose it."