The bird-like Phoenix-Class cruiser was hurtling toward them at three kilometres per second, its beak of a nose glowing with menacing intent. “They’re powering up their main weapon,” Shinela said.
“Evasive maneuvers.”
The Dart slid upward half a second before a blazing, orange particle beam sped past beneath him. He saw the distant ship reorienting for a second shot. Then the whole image seemed to rotate, the Tempest hanging against the blackness with one wing pointed up, the other pointed down. Another beam stabbed the darkness above his head.
Heaving out a breath, Jack tried to ignore the sweat on his brow. “Keep us level with them,” he ordered. “I want their captain to think that we’re playing a game of chicken.”
“Aye, sir.”
The Dart leveled off so that the enemy was right-side-up
