his
"Target acquired, courses set for first four missiles. Over."
Daniel switched to the Plot Position Indicator as his main display; the attack board, commo, gunnery, and realtime visuals appeared at reduced scale along the bottom. Sun had the pipper for the dorsal turret's twin 4-inch plasma cannon centered on the Goldenfels, though at the present range the weapons would harm only the sails furled to the freighter's spars. The ventral turret, offset toward the stern of D Deck, was still aligned fore-and-aft, but Sun had unlocked it.
"Cinnabar vessel, I'm warning you!" the voice from the Alliance freighter snarled. "We're landing in slip A-12. If you're underneath when we come down that's just too damned bad for you! Goldenfels out!"
The fellow was still using a laser communicator, so the atmospheric buffeting and the haze of ions from his plasma thrusters interfered with reception aboard the Princess Cecile. Adele's software smoothed off the burrs of static, but if the Alliance officer hadn't been so angry he would've changed his mode of communication.
The Princess Cecile was a warship with frames and bulkheads stressed to endure harder braking than any freighter could match. The Goldenfels had started its descent a few seconds earlier than the corvette,
Daniel switched to the Plot Position Indicator as his main display; the attack board, commo, gunnery, and realtime visuals appeared at reduced scale along the bottom. Sun had the pipper for the dorsal turret's twin 4-inch plasma cannon centered on the Goldenfels, though at the present range the weapons would harm only the sails furled to the freighter's spars. The ventral turret, offset toward the stern of D Deck, was still aligned fore-and-aft, but Sun had unlocked it.
"Cinnabar vessel, I'm warning you!" the voice from the Alliance freighter snarled. "We're landing in slip A-12. If you're underneath when we come down that's just too damned bad for you! Goldenfels out!"
The fellow was still using a laser communicator, so the atmospheric buffeting and the haze of ions from his plasma thrusters interfered with reception aboard the Princess Cecile. Adele's software smoothed off the burrs of static, but if the Alliance officer hadn't been so angry he would've changed his mode of communication.
The Princess Cecile was a warship with frames and bulkheads stressed to endure harder braking than any freighter could match. The Goldenfels had started its descent a few seconds earlier than the corvette,