Double Eagle(科幻战争)-第47章

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“Express　my　thanks；”　Scalter　said。　Darrow　noticed　the　man’s　hands　were　shaking　as　he　took　the
slate。　He　thought　of　Heckel。　Should　he　say　something？
“Anything　else；　junior？”　Scalter　asked。　Like　all　of　them；　Scalter　looked　monstrously　tired。
Darrow　knew　why。　It　wasn’t　just　the　stress。　All　the　Commonwealth　pilots　pulled　from　active　duty
had　been　spending　time　in　the　simulators　when　they　should　have　been　sleeping；　keeping　their　skills
honed。　Darrow　had　certainly　been　doing　that；　and　he’d　seen　Scalter　several　times　in　one　of　the　rigs。
The　Navy　had　brought　in　new　training　programs；　simulation　routines　for　Thunderbolts　and
Marauders。　They’d　all　been　eager　to　try　them。　To　experience　what　they　were　missing。
“Nothing；　Flight。”
“Hang　on；　Darrow；”　Scalter　said。　“While　you’re　here。”　He　turned　back　to　his　station；　snapped　off
a　few　commands　over　the　air；　then　scribed　some　details　on　a　slate。　“Eads　will　need　this。　I　was　going
to　get　my　junior　to　run　it　over；　but　I’m　damned　if　I　know　where　he　is。”
Darrow　took　the　slate。　“Thanks；　sir。”
That　tremble　in　the　hand。　The　first　symptoms　of　a　self…destructive　fall？　Or　just　fatigue？　“Off　you
go；”　said　Scalter。
Darrow　turned。　As　he　moved　away；　he　heard　Scalter　bark；　“Ransack；　that　is　not；　repeat　not；
eighteen　north！　Correct；　you　blasted　dunce！”
Darrow　dodged　back　through　the　tide　of　hurrying　deck　juniors；　aides　and　Navy　staffers。　He
reached　Eads。
“Come　about　point　three…five；　Orbis。　Rise　and　climb；　for　Throne’s　sake。”　A　pause。　Darrow
waited。　“Orbis　Flight；　Orbis　Flight；”　Eads　said。　“Your　plot　is　merging　with　Ganymede　Seven…Seven。
Correct　and　come　about。　Yes；　I　have　bats　confirmed；　extending　at　eight　thousand。　Take　your　fix　on
my　beacon　mark　and　turn　out；　climbing；　point　three…five。　Be　advised；　hostiles　at　eight；　breaking。”
Darrow　placed　his　hand　on　Eads’s　arm。
“Harp　Flight；　proceed　north　by　ten。　Hostiles　now　at　two　and　closing。　Yes；　Darrow？”
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“Plot　from　Scalter；　sir。”
“Out　loud；　junior。”
“Inbound；　broken　formation；　six　thousand　variable；　heading　north…east　four…two。　Units　from
Gocel　FSB。　They’re　thirty　minutes　out；　requesting　touchdown　instructions。”
“How　many？”
“Estimates　at　twenty　fighters；　mixed；　plus　extraction　transports；　heavy。”
“You’ll　have　to　deal　with　it；　Darrow。　I’ve　got　a　major　scenario　here。　Send　the　transports　to　us；
priority。　Discover　the　operational　status　of　the　fighters。　If　any　can　still　manage　combat；　we　could　use
them。　Get　fuel　and　ammo　from　them。”
“Yes；　Flight。”
Darrow　put　on　his　headphones　and　adjusted　his　dial。　Eads　was　already　back　on　the　line　to　his
formations。　Darrow　tried　to　settle　his　nerves。
“Gocel　inbound；　Gocel　inbound；　this　is　Theda　Operations。　Do　you　copy？”
A　crackle。　“Operations；　this　is　Umbra　Lead；　we　have　you　clear。”
“Report　your　situation；　Umbra　Leader。”
“We’ve　quit　in　a　hurry；　Operations。　Enemy　overrun。　Umbra　is　nine；　repeat　nine　machines。　409
Raptors　are　now　eight；　repeat　eight。　Spyglass　786；　three；　repeat　three　machines。　We　have　five
transports；　heavy。　Flying　protective　cover　on　those。　Be　advised；　hostiles　behind　us；　possible
pursuit。”
“Time　on　Theda；　Umbra　Leader？”
“Twenty…six　minutes。”
“Transports　are　cleared　for　MAB　south；　priority。　Any　of　you　combat　ready？”
“Umbra　and　Raptors　show　willingness；　Operations。　We　came　up　fuelled　and　loaded。　Spyglass
were　half…tanked；　so　I’d　advise　no　to　them。”
“We　could　use　you；　Umbra　Lead。　Skirmish　bearing　nine…two　west。”
“Copy　that。”
Darrow　took　a　deep　breath。　He　was　making　control　decisions　now。
“Gocel　inbound；　let　the　Lightnings　cover　the　transports　home。　All　other　elements　break　and　rise；
nine…two　west。”
“Received　and　executing。”
Over　the　Littoral；　08。34
Four…tenths　cloud　and　southerly　cross…wind。　A　pale　blanket　of　sky　sneaked　with　grey。
Jagdea　led　the　turn　west；　watching　as　the　massive　transport　ships　sailed　away　north　with　their
Lightning　escort；　lost　into　the　cloud。
“Raptor　Flight；　this　is　Umbra　Lead。　Blaguer　is　gone；　Throne　rest　him。　Operations　has　just　called
the　play；　as　I’m　sure　you　heard。　I’m　leading　now；　so　nuzzle　up　and　make　nice。　We　can　argue　on　the
ground　later。　Any　objections？”
“Umbra　Leader；　this　is　Raptor　Two。　Lead　us　well；　and　we’ll　follow　you　to　hell　and　back。”
Jagdea　smiled。　She’d　met　Blaguer’s　deputy　a　number　of　times　during　their　brief　stay　at　Lake
Gocel。　His　name　was　Rapmund；　a　decent　sort；　broad…faced；　quietly　professional。　His　confident
response　pleased　her。
“Four　diamonds；　I’ll　fly　sprint；”　she　ordered。　“Nice　and　slow；　no　clipping。　We’ve　got　enemies
enough　out　here　without　killing　each　other。”
With　a　burst　of　throttle；　she　ran　forward　then　watched　her　rear　pict…screens　as　the　other　machines
settled　into　formation。　Four　diamond　shapes；　each　containing　four　Bolts。　They　settled　in　with
extraordinary　simplicity；　Raptors　and　Umbra　mixed。　Cooperation　at　last。　No　grandstanding；　no
pecking　order。　Just　air　warriors；　uniting　without　argument　for　a　common　good。
“Lead　to　wing；　compliments　to　all。　This　is　how　the　Imperium　conquers　its　foes。”
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Jagdea’s　Thunderbolt　was　flying　ahead　of　the　four　diamonds；　directly　in　front　of　the　second
formation；　creating　an　asymmetrical　structure。　Diamond　Two　was　at　her　tail；　Diamond　One　at　her
four　o’clock；　Diamond　Three　at　her　seven；　and　Diamond　Four　seven　o’clock　of　Diamond　Three。　She
was　flying　what　the　Navy　called　sprint；　and　what　the　Phantine　knew　as　pointer；　the　sharp　end　of　a
medium；　ranged　fighter　shoal。　She　got　the　Raptor　pilots　to　vox　in　their　numbers　and　positions；
marking　the　details　on　the　data…slate　fixed　to　her　thigh。　Then　she　flicked　channel。
“Operations；　this　is　Umbra　Leader。　Umbra　and　Raptor　elements　now　under　me　as　one　flight。　Do
you　have　us？”
“On　the　modar；　Umbra。　Good　and　clear。　Adjust　heading　three　points　and　climb　to　eight
thousand。　Skirmish　is　four　kilometres　and　closing。”
“Copy　that。”
They　flew　on　through　a　cloud　bank；　billowing　like　fog；　and　then　came　clear。　The　skirmish　was
ahead　of　them。
Skirmish。　What　an　inadequate　word。　The　voice　of　Operations　sounded　like　a　boy；　a　child。
This　was　war。
Hundreds　of　machines　whirled　and　danced　in　the　sky　across　ninety　cubic　kilometres　of　space。
There　were　planes　everywhere…　some　loners；　some　in　formations；　some　in　tight；　complex　patterns
of　combat。　Most　of　them　were　hostiles；　as　far　as　Jagdea　could　see。　A　lot　of　bombers；　a　large　number
of　gaudy　Interceptors　and　fighters。　Imperial　birds　flashed　and　mobbed　amongst　them；　struggling。
The　air　was　full　of　shot　and　smoke。　She　could　see　at　least　six　machines　burning　towards　the　ground。
The　ground。　Down　through　the　clouds；　she　could　see　the　broad　expanse　of　the　Littoral　and　the
outskirts　of　Theda　City。　Hundreds　of　fire　points　lit　it　up。　That　was　the　bombers’　target。
“Umbra　has　visual；”　she　voxed。
“Okay；　Umbra。”　Operations　suddenly　had　a　different；　older　voice　now。　“High　to　your　eleven；
hostiles　wide。　Can　you　engage？”
Jagdea　peered　up　into　the　sky；　and　checked　her　glance　against　the　auspex　track。
“I　see　them；　Operations。”　A　flight　of　Razors；　twenty…plus；　storming　in　towards　the　mobbing
Navy　machines　a　thousand　metres　below。
“This　is　Umbra；　we　will　commit。”
“The　Emperor　protects；”　said　the　older　voice　from　Operations。
“Track　up　and　round；”　Jagdea　ordered。　“Full　burn。　Hit　those　bastards！”
Umbra’s　enlarged　formation　peeled　upwards　and　accelerated；　coming　in　head…on　to　the　Razor
flight。　Some　were　already　firing。
The　Razors；　surprised；　fired　back　and　started　to　break。
“And　here　we　go…”　Jagdea　said　to　herself。
Light…flash　bursts。　Streamers　of　hard　rounds。　Puffs　of　smoke。　Two　of　the　Razors　sawed　out　of
line；　issuing　trails；　dropping。　A　third　exploded　in　a　haze　of　flame。　One　of　the　Raptors；　four；　lost　its
port　wing　and　spilled　over　like　a　falling　weight。
Cordiale　was　hit。
A　large　piece　of　his　fin　blew　off；　and　then　sections　of　flank　plating。　Shots　had　punched　through
his　wing。
His　Bolt　started　to　plunge　away；　but　to　Jagdea’s　relief；　he　leveled；　holding　the　machine　steady
with　what　little　trim　he　had　left。
Jagdea　arced　round　behind　a　hard…running　Razor　and　started　to　dive。
“Umbra　Eleven；”　she　yelled。　“Are　you　stable？”
“Just　a　flesh　wound；　mamzel；”