"Bearing zero one eight—range one thousand—closing. Bearing one nine zero—negative," the talker interrupted.
"Our little follower's gone back into Cth," Pedersen said.
"Gives us three minutes at least, before he can adjust on us."
"Bearing zero one six—range five hundred—closing," the talker said.
"Stand by all stations," Fiske said calmly—"Bearing zero one six steady—range four hundred,—three hundred,—two five zero,—two two zero,—two hundred,—one eight zero," the talker's metallic voice was flat in the tense silence of the ship.
"At my command," Fiske said as he poised his finger over a large red button on the control console.
Over the complex network of spotting, ranging, and computing devices electronic orders flowed into the gun, and torpedo stations. Servos hummed as the weapons aligned on their target and gun crews alertly followed the movements of the automatics ready for emergencies or malfunctions.
"Bearing zero one three, range fifty—closing," the talker's unemotional voice continued. Fiske's hand stabbed the button and an instant later the "Dauntless" yawed violently to the blast of fire that erupted from every weapon capable of bearing on the Eglan.
"Enemy has fired," the talker said. The "Dauntless" slewed violently as the pilot took evasive action.