tion into a dissipated
struggle without borders, boundaries or points of reference.

And for the Coalition pilots and vessel commanders, this proved to be
fatal. Outnumbered nearly three to one by more modern, swifter craft,
needing to be watchful of every quarter at once, aware that soon the
Dreadnought would add its considerable firepower to the fray, and thus
needing an early knockout. . .it was impossible. They fought with
courage and intensity, but so did the Americans. And though they knew
it was no game (some of the Americans did also), and though they fought
for home and family, this could not make them react quicker or shoot
straighter than their more youthful counterparts, whose duel
ambition---to stay alive and cover themselves with glory---combined
with simply better equipment to give them the clear and early upper
hand.

There would be no repeat of the Battle of Britain.

After ninety minutes of butchery, the bravest socialist pilots had had
enough. Those who could, turned and fled into warp. Those who could
not, were cut to pieces by the Dreadnought.

There were no prisoners taken.

*

While at the conclusion of this skirmish some faces among the ranks of
the Commonwealth force beamed with confidence and victory, Hayes' was
not one of them. He allowed his men roughly three minutes to exchange
war hoops and congratulations, then ordered his next deployment. And
he ordered his new Communications Officer, stationed on the bridge, to
make contact with Schiller, which now lay exposed.

At first the planet refused to acknowledge the attempt, feigning
interference. It was obvious they were trying to buy time. But when
the Dreadnought, which continued to advance, began to lower its four
great battleships, and Hayes, on an uncoded channel ordered them, once
deployed, to take up pseudo-orbital positions around it and begin
planetary destruct sequence, the East German leadership dropped its
futile ploy. On the large central screen of the bridge, the erect
figure of the Prime Minister appeared, seated at the head of a long
table surrounded by military advisors. His face was gray and stern.
Though his English was good, he chose for the moment to make it harsh
and clipped.

"Yes, Mr. Secretary."

"Good morning, Schultz. I won't banter. I want your planetary shields
lowered, and your orbiting Artillery Stations---yes, I know about
them---silenced and evacuated. They will be destroyed in one