"William R. Forstchen & Ben Ohlander - Wing Commander 05 - The Price of Freedom" - читать интересную книгу автора (Forstchen William R)

Vale turned his own attention towards the bandit who'd angled towards the rear of the convoy. The
enemy's red pipper glowed and swelled as he turned towards it. He goosed his afterburner, inhaling as
the increased thrust pressed him back into his chair. He was glad his inertial dampers appeared to be
functioning well—he'd have been thrown around the inside of the cockpit without them. His lasers and
ion cannon weren't nearly as heavy as the raiders'; he could only hope that he had a speed and maneuver
advantage that would balance the scales.

He had a quick glimpse of Tiger trading fire with the first bandit, while Sparrow now maneuvered to the
flank.

The missile alarm chimed in his ear, its Dopplered pitch warning him of a lock-on. A yellow dot
appeared on his scanner and quickly accelerated towards him. "Damn," he said, then cued his radio.
"Scar, evasive. Then break and attack."

He rammed the throttle forward as Scarman broke away, leaving behind him a string of missile decoys.
Vale kicked in his afterburner and hauled his control yoke down and left as he fought to open as much
room between himself and his wingman as he could. The missile ignored the chaff and Scar to lock onto
him. He cursed under his breath.

The two trailing transports loomed in front of him, their drive plumes brightening as they accelerated to
the best of their ability. He flashed between them, hoping their mass would throw off the missile. He
craned his head around and saw it closing rapidly, its lock-on intact. He banked and cut back, using the
lefthand transport as the pivot for his tight parabolic turn. He snapped out of the turn, his course
reversed. He dropped chaff pod after chaff pod, hoping the signal simulators would lure the missile away
from him. The warhead yawed after the first and detonated.

Vale looked frantically around. The leading freighter bloomed fire along one flank, the result, he thought,
of a missile or rocket attack. A torpedo would have reduced the little ship to free atoms. He checked his
tactical display and saw one intruder arcing in towards the hindmost transport.Scar whipped and
saw-bucked in the distance, apparently locked in his own dance with a missile. This guy is good, Vale
thought, he's taken us both out of play long enough to get in close to the freighters.

Tiger and Sparrow were tied up with the second bandit and were in no position to help, leaving him with
no option except to go one-on-one. He hoped to stay out of theraiders front arc and its big guns. He
angled his Arrow towards the raider and hit his throttle. His fighter jumped forward, the acceleration
pressing him back in his seat in spite of the inertial dampers.

The intruder turned slightly as Vale closed, affording him his first good, long look. The thing was sleek
and completely black, except for a pair of glowing, top-mounted Bussard intakes, suggesting a jump
capability. It looked ultra-state-of-the-art to him, utterly lethal and unlike any design he had seen. It sure
as hell didn't look Kilrathi.

He pushed his throttle back, cutting out his afterburner and slowing his headlong charge to better target
his weapons. He fired his ion cannon at range, more for his own morale than from any real hope of
inflicting damage.
 The enemy ignored his pinpricks to fire quad energy weapons at the transport. The bolts punched
through its flimsy screens and hulled it deeply. The freighters single defensive turret opened up, a pathetic
single stream of laser beams to answer its mortal wound. He sent the transport a quick interrogative.