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“You heard the order, Elysium. Give those cruisers hell!” Ienaga, heartened by your commitment, also starts unloading barrages after barrages of missiles at the retreating Snapdragons. Only Okwonko remains strangely passive, dispatching only a couple of fighter wings to escort the charging destroyers.
“Keep it coming, Sylvie dear. I'm almost in range. Transmitting torpedo firing plots.” Your hands wound tighter around the safety bars as the hologram projection updates to show the new course. She's firing too late, far too late. There's no way they will be able to disengage at this rate, which can only mean one thing. Their rearguard will waltz right next to your unwieldy cruiser group virtually unopposed.
Flame bursts in jets from the Armitage's starboard as the ship hastily makes a U-turn. Its radio is blaring on all frequencies, “Launch torpedoes now, Razoredge, Scarface. Disengage immediately and regroup with me. Over.” So Liu hasn't informed Jean-Pierre of her plans? The destroyers keep hurtling towards the enemy cruisers, heedless of the thickening curtain of coilgun fire around them. Even if it makes no difference, you still feel obliged to scream into the mouthpiece, “Liu, did you copy Jean's orders? Retreat, retreat ASAP. Over.”
A recognition dawns on Tim as he draws a shaky line on the hologram. “Commander, she's burning right through.” At last, the destroyers release their deadly payload, 22 in all. The enemy cruisers briefly fall silent as Liu passes between them to avoid friendly fire. The fist remains suspended just long enough to make the battered face beam with hope before crashing down with ever greater frequency, now on Jean-Pierre's lone cruiser.
“A hit, a hit! Did you see that, John?” The Armitage humorlessly relays the Razoredge's message as it ducks and weaves in-between the lethal crossfire. The impressive fusillade has hit only a hapless old frigate, splitting it in half. In response, three destroyers are now swiftly gaining on Jean-Pierre, eager to avenge their stricken brethen. You doubt his ability to keep these hyenas at bay for long.
“Strike formations are ready, Frenchman. Which one to fry? Over.” Finally, Okwonko has woken up. “Invincible, get these flies off of me. The rest of you, keep firing on the Snapdragons. Over.” The relentless pace of your cruiser's railguns picks up as they finally found their range. The noose tightening round the Armitage loosens as one of the cruisers jerks erratically back and forth to shake off the baying 12-inch slugs.
