"They might not even know."
"Unlikely."
"Look, though," offered Lane, "we came in sunward, almost scorching our tails. The solar centroid of interference might make any flight detection undistinguishable from background noise."
"Yeah? Remember that we came in over the edge of the sun from somewhere. We were out in space mostly."
"Then you answer it—you asked it!"
The catmen came as Thompson's flight left the camp and Lane's ships dropped into the charging positions. They came in a horde, they came and they swarmed over the two flights that were patrolling.
In a wide circle, the Solarians raced just outside of the camp. The planet mounts covered the sky above, and a veritable arched roof of death-dealing energy covered the twenty-five ships of Lane's flight. The space between the Solar circle and the catman circle was ablaze with energy, and the ether was filled with interference. Even the subether carried its share of crackle, and the orders went on the tone-modulated code instead of voice.
Solid ordnance dropped, and exploded through the crisscrossing of the planet mounts, and the planeted ships ran their charges down instead of up by adding to the fury over their heads. They were sitting ducks and they knew it.
But unlike the sitting duck, these could shoot back. And they took their toll.