els,"
Brad replied.

"As soon as we do that we're in the open. Yargoul
will get a fix on us, and pick us off with their
long-range particle beamers. Right now we're
specks in a crowded and still disorganized field,
and that's our only protection. These fighters are
Plutonian, and that's part of our cover."

"Well, look," Adari sounded frustrated. "We've been
carrying the ball for quite a spell. Our folks are
here and ready to take over. We know where
they're at; let's give 'em our report in person.
Then, maybe, I can wash my hair. I feel a mess."

"This fleet still has a helluva lot of firepower
left." Hodak's voice was grim and brusque. "We're
right among 'em. We're 'point' for our side."

"You're right," Brad said. "Our job has changed:
we're eyes and ears for our people, even while
we're running interference. It's not over for us
until the fleets are within range of each other,
and then we'd damn well better be out of the way."

He paused to scan the arena, and added: "I'll break
into 'clear' in two minutes to give our people a
sitrep. Don't waste time on the INOR squadron
they're leaving behind to get us off their back.
Head for the UIPS fleet in two minutes. Hold
outside of their perimeter until I find out what
they need from us. If you run into Yargoul's fleet
along the way, shoot first."

"Three to One. Comin' up on a cruiser. The
protective screen on this one is tightenin' up
and it'll be a hard nut to crack. Got me a tail-end
charlie minesweeper. I'll give it a try. At 1300
kay -- 800 -- 400. Two seconds burst right up
the thrusters. Gone. They've marked us. We got
laser-quads incoming. Into e-e-e-v-a-a-sive. Man,
this baby's got speed. Out of it. OK, One and
Three. They're organized again and sure as hell
know we're jabbin' at 'em. Ain't gonna be easy to
get outta here."

"Two here. I hear you, Three. Got a couple of
destroyers off my starboard bow. Coming around
for a nose job. We're marked. Got incoming, lots
of it. At 1200 -- 800 -- 300. Two sec..."

Silence.

"One to Two. Come in."

Silence.

A guttural howl of anguish tore through Brad's
earphone. Myra.

"I'm heading over, Brad," she screamed, her voice
hoarse and breaking.

Brad didn't stop her, nor did he want to.

The battle cruiser Windstorm, surrounded by its
destroyer screen, was in sight. Brad weighed his
chances on getting close enough for an effective
shot.

Studying the scene, Brad did not, at first, see the
gr