Read A Greater Interest: Samair in Argos: Book 4 for Free Online

position according to orders. 
                  “Target locked,” he called, as the collection of enemy fighters came into range.  A solid tone sounded.  There was a chorus of agreement from the others.  Thirty-six pilots, each one locking a single missile onto the twenty-two pirate ships coming straight at them.  It was overkill and Korqath knew that, wasting their throat-ripper missiles on fighters like that, but they needed to be done with those fighters quickly so they could engage the bigger ships, keep them occupied.  Certainly a few of the defenders’ missiles would be shot down, but more than half again of the number of missiles as ships coming at them, the pirates wouldn’t be able to get them all; not in time.  And even if they only got a handful of them, it would reduce their number and maybe even make a couple of them break off in fear.
                  “Firing!” he called, depressing the trigger.  A TR-2 throat-ripper missile dropped from the port wing of his ship and streaked forward.  A quick glance at his display showed the others in the squadrons loosing their weapons as well.  Thirty-six missiles raced toward the oncoming invaders, homing in on their targets.
    ~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~
                  Sokann’s systems detected the incoming ordnance and began sounding alarms.  He hissed in surprise.  The locals had twice their numbers and were closing the gap to engage.  And then they just fired off a salvo of missiles.  His mandibles clacked in envy that these pilots had missiles to throw away.  If at all possible, he hoped that Lord Verrikoth could get his hands on a few of those ships coming to attack them now.  If nothing else, they held an impressive armament. 
                  But there wasn’t time to really think about that.  “All fighters, go evasive!” he ordered, his voice harsh.  He jinked his Muon fighter up and to the left.  He drew a bead on the closest incoming missile and with a single hit of his triggers, he fired, blowing it apart. 
                  The rest of his attack force wasn’t so lucky or skilled.  Of the twenty-two ships that started the engagement, barely thirteen made it through that first salvo.  Eight of the blocky and slower Sepulcres were blasted apart in nuclear fireballs, unable to outmaneuver the speedy weapons.  Only one of the nimble Muons got hit, the pilot turned sharply to evade one weapon and ran headlong into the teeth of another.
                  In less than a second, his squadron was cut in half.  He cursed in near despair.  Those same feelings that had coursed through his thorax when his squadron had fought against that Republic cruiser back in Tyseus all those months ago were surging up again.  “All ships, accelerate to attacking speed!  Get in close; I don’t want to lose any more of us to the missile strikes.”
                  He kicked up his own acceleration and raced after the incoming fighters.  Locking on, he let loose his own missile, and hissed in triumph as it exploded and tore the enemy ship apart.
     
                  It had been too easy.  He’d been a fan of the Sepulcres when they’d been a part of FP’s defensive arsenal.  They were sturdy, had decent armament, were easy to fly, easy with maintain.  But now after a few months of flying in the Visions, Korqath decided that they were a decidedly outdated design.  They were perfect for pirates, but they were sitting ducks for his squadrons as his first barrage of missiles proved.  That and the punch and accuracy of Commander Samair’s throat-ripper missile designs.
              “All fighters, break and attack,” he ordered.  “Get those fighters, but save your missiles.  We’ve got some big boys that are getting belligerent.”
     
                  “The fighters are moving in to engage, Captain,” Alys Flynn piped up from