can relay through the scouts."

"All right; but make sure it's not intercepted. I want Group Three under
maximum acceleration for Luhin, and I want them to get running reports
on the enemy."

"Right, sir."

Tulan was in the position he wanted, not needing to use his own radar,
but able to pick up that of Coar's fleet at extreme range, too far to
give them a bounce. He'd know their course, speed, and acceleration
fairly well, without even being suspected himself.

He held that position until the enemy was close enough to get a bounce,
then went into drive on an intercepting course.

One of the basic tenets of space maneuver was this: if two fleets were
drawing together, with radar contact, neither (barring interference from
factors such as the sun or planets) could escape the other; for if one
applied acceleration in any direction the other could simply match it
(human endurance being the limitation) and maintain the original
relative closing speed.

When the enemy commander discovered Tulan's armada loafing ahead of
him, he'd been accelerating for about ten hours and had a velocity of a
million miles per hour, while Tulan was going the same direction but at
half the speed. The quarry began decelerating immediately, knowing it
could get back to Luhin with time enough to land.

Tulan didn't quite match the deceleration, preferring to waste a few
hours and lessen the strain on his crews. He let the gap close slowly.

He could tell almost the precise instant when the other jaw of his trap
was discovered, for Plot, Communications, and Intelligence all jerked up
their heads and looked at him. He grinned at them. What they'd picked up
would be an enemy beam from Luhin, recklessly sweeping space to find the
Coar fleet and warn it of the onrushing Group Three.

The enemy commander reacted fast. It was obvious he'd never beat Group
Three to Luhin, and he made no futile attempts at dodging, but reversed
drives and accelerated toward the nearest enemy, which was Tulan. Tulan
was not surprised at that either, for though Coar's fleets had bungled
the war miserably, when cornered they'd always fought and died like men.

He matched their acceleration to hold down the relative speeds. The
swift passing clash would be brief at best. He formed his forces into an
arrangement he'd schemed up long ago but never used: a flat disc of
lighter ships out in front, masking a doughnut-shaped mass behind. He
maneuvered laterally to keep