第135页
"Incoming transmission," Y'gar said. Both his eyes, sighted and blind, were wide with wonder. "On the Prophets channel, sir."
A flat voice, intoning perfectly the ancient dialect, rumbled over the bridge: "Rescue phase concluded. Threat-analysis phase concluded. Reclaimant request for Shield World access… denied. Initiating outer defense program."
"Energy spikes detected," Y'gar said. "Frequencies shifting to resonate suites." He looked up. "They're combining fire, sir."
"Fleetwide channel," Voro shouted. "All Ship Masters make ready to fire. Link targeting control through the Incorruptible."
Uruo monitored his console as the ships in their fleet linked into a single spiderweb network of firepower. "Fleet fire control is now yours, sir," he told Voro.
"Target laser and energy projectors on these cluster formations," Voro said.
Uruo smoothed his hands over the network, double-checking the numbers, and then said, "Target solutions calculated, sir. On your order."
A thousand tiny eyes blazed within the alien formations. Energy beams collimated into lances of golden light that painted the hull of the Far Sight Lost.
The ship did not have its shields up. Beams sliced through armor and decks, piercing through and through, blasting cones of vaporized alloy into space.
Voro quenched his rage and studied the carnage. Some advantage had to be gleaned from this tragedy.
Individually the tiny craft could do no harm. Together, however, they were more than a match for the Far Sight Lost. Their octahedral structures shimmered with energy shields. Voro assumed their defensive strength multiplied when combined as well,
"Release weapons interlink safety locks," Voro ordered, and raised his hand.
He prayed for the soul of Ship Master Qunu, who had revealed for them a new enemy.
Penetrated by a dozen beams, the ventral decks of the Far Sight Lost exploded. The ship rolled over like a great beast in its death throes. The weapons cut through the aft section. The plasma core breached, and three plumes of blue fire erupted from the hull—heating the aft quarter of the vessel red-, yellow-, and then white-hot—before the vessel detonated.
The crystalline geometry of the alien formations rippled and their shields flared.
"Now!" Voro commanded. "All laser and projectors fire."
All ships under his command launched a barrage, and the deep night of space lit with crisscrossing lines of illumination. Hundreds of lasers painted the weakened alien shields and made them sputter with static. Ten microseconds later, energy-projector
capacitors discharged and blasts of holy white radiation impacted the formations, overloaded the distressed shields, and scattered their coherence.
Stripped of their protection, the tiny drone ships erupted into streams of superheated particles. Their central eyes blazed white-hot as if their fury alone could protect them.
Explosions chained through the octahedral assembly.
Lasers and projectors shut down and the space plunged again into dankness.