"We've still got full power and most of our guns are operative," Selvin announced to his staff after a brief study of the report. "With another of their cruisers gone the big ships have evened out, but they've still got the edge in destroyers. We've…"
"Fighter-bomber locked on to enemy cruiser Encounter." The communicator's voice cut in over the loudspeaker.
"Put him on," Selvin ordered.
The pilot's voice filled the room, low and tense.
"…3000 kay starboard. Destroyer screen at 2000, kinda loose. Going in. Have incoming, lots of it. In evasive. I'm hit, but I'm through. 700. More incoming. Bridge in sights. Three seconds burst — a hit. I'm out of control. Encounter dead ahead… gonna…"
Silence.
Selvin turned away to hide the pain in his eyes at still another death.
"Cruisers three to two, in our favor." An officer called out from his position at the battle monitor. "New ball game."
Brad pointed, drawing Selvin's eyes to the constantly changing plotting table and view tank.
The displays showed the struggle had become a series of separate skirmishes spread across a million kay in all directions. Fighter-bombers and fighters without a mother ship, and destroyers that had lost their cruisers ranged the battlefield singly and in pairs, searching out and attacking the enemy.