The sensors officer was on the edge of his seat. “Enemy ships have opened fire! Tracking three rounds on intercept vectors.”
The helmsman fired the port thrusters. “Evasive maneuvers, aye,” was all he said. “Firing lock ready, sir. Current spin will give correct alignment in eleven seconds.”
The captain nodded, gaze steely. “What’s the status on the A-rack missiles?”
“Alpha wave missiles closing in. Only 4 warheads lost, fuel green.”
“And the crew?”
“General quarters sounded, all personnel accounted for at battle stations. Non-essential compartments vented to space.”
“Good. Fire at will.”
“Second volley inbound, four rounds.”
“Main gun rounds away. Firing starboard; where’s the data, sensors? – shit! Round skimmed off the underside armour, we’ve lost all of aft 5 C rack missiles are toast. Drive 4 is gone.”
“Evade, evade!”
“Negative, sir. Main fuel line ruptured. We can’t – solid hits on Fore 2 armour! Hull breach, hull breach! Stress control failure across all fore and mid sections. We’re losing her-”