As Brynn and Darren walked through the last door, Brynn was in a room with a dozen people, all with headsets and a screen in front of their face. The room was large, at least ten meters across, and half that from the door the next wall.
A low murmur filled the observation room, punctuated by bursts of frantic chatter over the speakers. Brynn's gaze locked onto the massive display--dozens of red, green, and blue dots pulsed and shifted like an intricate dance of war. The image on the screen showed the two immense ships and all the fighters. The battleships were shown in a greater detail than the fighters, who were just simple dots. The blue dots were apparently the fighters while the red dots were the attacking craft. A moment later, two of the blue dots converged on the red dot and the red dot disappeared. She couldn't figure out what the green dots were. Maybe civilian crafts trying to escape?
"Captain, our shields are holding, but if we don't manage to scare them off, they won't stay that way for long."
The next voice was unmistakably the captain's. "All fighters, attack at the coordinates I've specified. Focus your attack on the life support and ventilation systems."
The blue dots all seemed to move at once, moving in a tight formation as they made their way to the red ship.
The comms crackled, then a voice--low, venomous, and familiar--coiled through the room. A cold shiver rushed down Brynn's spine, goosebumps rising like a wave across her skin.
"The Delethirian Empire will not be thwarted by your pathetic attempts to engage us, Captain Johansen. Lower your shields and cease fire and I assure you the lives of your crew will be spared. Surrender while you still can."
It was the voice of the woman who had attacked Atalanta not two days before. Suddenly, the red dots seemed to explode and multiply. She could hear the scattered voices of pilot's last cries as the red dots overwhelmed the blue and began to make them disappear, one by one, until there were only a few left. Brynn counted over twenty of the red dots still on the display. "Blue Twelve to Blue Five. Cover me. These bastards need their numbers cut back a little."
"Chariton! What are you doing with one of my ships?!"
"Well, it looked like so much fun, I didn't want to miss out. Do you mind if I lend a hand as it seems you're a little short on numbers?"
There was no response.
"Blue Five, copy?"
"Copy Twelve. I'll stay back a little ways to make sure none of them sneak up behind you."
The display zoomed in a little on the fray as the two fighters turned and engaged. The Delethirian ships tried to loop around and attack, but they seemed just a little too slow. Idris' ship was indicated with the number twelve, his wing man's ship indicated with the five.
Slowly, the dots moved around the map and the red dots seemed to disappear. Then they moved back to engaging the enemy battleship.
"Enemy shields at seventeen percent, Captain. We should be able to hold out long enough to finish them."
"What's the status of our weapons?"
