Free Traitor's Duty by Richard Tongue

won’t be leaving this system any time soon.”
     “Message from Wyvern, sir!” Weitzman said. “Signal’s strength’s low, audio only.”
     “Put him on,” Logan said.
     “This is Captain Marshall,” a voice said, almost drowned out by the spontaneous cheer that resounded around the bridge. “We’ll deal with Thermopylae, you knock out that bastard up ahead. We’re defenseless here.”
     “We’ve got your back, Wyvern.”
     “Captain,” Marshall asked, “What are you doing here?”
     “Technically, our job is to protect the peace, but today I think that means blowing holes in enemy ships. I’ll go into more detail later. Logan out.” He looked around the bridge, and said, “Focus, everyone. We’ve got a job to do.”
     “Laser recharge cycle under way,” Ryder said. “All systems running well.”
     “Intercept course for the enemy battlecruiser,” Steele added. “They look pretty confident, they’re not trying to evade at all.”
     “They’re playing chicken,” Logan said. “Keep a firing solution on Thermopylae, just in case.”
     “You don’t seriously think that they’ll fire on a Triplanetary ship, do you?”
     “Why not? We did. Get our fighters out as well, we might as well throw everything we’ve got into the fight.”
     Nodding, Ryder reached across to an adjacent console, currently unoccupied, and tapped a series of controls before saying into a microphone, “All fighters, immediate launch.”
     Three new trails appeared on the tactical display as Alamo’s borrowed fighter formation moved into attack position, diving towards the enemy battlecruiser. Over to one side, another group of fighters curved around, aiming for a coordinated strike. If they got this right, then the Cabal vessel would be caught neatly between the two of them, with Alamo racing down the middle.
     There was a strange beauty to the tactical display, a series of intersecting lines tangling around each other as the pilots and tactical officers of dozens of ships and fighters worked their magic, each one attempting to gain the split-second advantage that might win them the battle. Alamo was gracefully curving in, on a direct course for the enemy battlecruiser, her fighters proceeding her in a sleek arrowhead formation.
     “Shuttle launched from Alamo, sir,” Spinelli said. “Moving fast, as well.”
     “Search and rescue?”
     “No, Captain,” the sensor operator said. “It’s heading for Thermopylae.”
     “I don’t envy them that job,” Ryder said. “Firing range with the enemy battlecruiser in two minutes.”
     Nodding, Logan said, “Do everything necessary to bring that bastard down, Ryder. Laser shots, missile salvos, throw rocks at them. Whatever it takes. Weitzman, try and get contact with them, offer them a chance at surrender.”
     “Unconditional surrender?”
     “No, damn it, I’ll talk terms. We’re here on a peace mission, and I’d rather be trading insults than missiles. Give them an honorable way out.”
     Shaking her head, Steele said, “They’ll fight to the end, sir. The consequences of failure…”
     “Let’s hope you are wrong about that, Sub-Lieutenant.”
     He settled back again as Alamo raced towards the enemy, letting Ryder handle the tactical details while he concentrated on the overall picture. Up ahead, the fighters were launching a salvo, six missiles racing towards their target in two directions. Alamo would be contributing another half-dozen to the battle in a few seconds.
     The enemy commander must know that Alamo’s arrival had ended any chance he had of winning. He’d pulled it close – Thermopylae’s withdrawal from the battle had wiped out the previous Triplanetary advantage and thrown their plans into confusion – but the game was up, and all he was doing was throwing away lives.
     “Energy spike,” Spinelli said. “They’re going for us, at extreme range.”
     “Plenty of time for our