A Greater Interest: Samair in Argos: Book 4 by Michael Kotcher Page A

The words were barely out of his mouth when three of the ship’s turrets opened fire.  Three shots, three escape pods vaporized.  With a nod, the commander turned to Verrikoth.  “Target destroyed, my Lord.”
                  The pirate lord was on his feet, mouthparts writhing in glee.  “I love thiss sship!  Find uss another target, Commander,” the zheen demanded, sitting himself back down on the command seat with a royal air.  “I believe there is another corvette out there that has been causing our forces considerable difficulty.”
                  Tyler’s smile was infectious.  “Of course, my Lord.  It will be a pleasure.  Helm, bring us to two-five-seven.”
                  Verrikoth watched as Ganges and Illuyanka broke formation and raced into the fray, chasing after the two corvettes that were attempting to cover each other.  It was a smart move, but futile.  Two light cruisers would make short work of the two smaller ships.  Their only hope would be to try and outrun the larger ships, but it appeared that both ships had suffered significant engine or hull damage, preventing higher levels of acceleration.  They were helpless.  His antennae swirled in large loops.  “Only a matter of time.”
     
                  “No!” Tariq cried, unable to stop his outburst as the image of Angara exploded on the main display.  The heavy cruiser moved into range and obliterated it, then just for spite, shot down the escaping crew with three perfectly placed shots, as though turbolaser bolts were being rationed.
                  But there was no time for grief.  They had their own skins to look out for.  “Captain!” Alys called, her voice going up a few octaves.  “The light cruisers are accelerating.  They’re coming straight after us.”
                  “Shades,” he swore.  He looked down at Rujarrik’s image on the chair display.  “Can you get any more acceleration?”
                  The wolf looked to the side, speaking to someone off camera.  Then she turned back.  “No, Captain.  We’re pretty well maxed out.  And with the accel those cruisers are piling on, we’re only going to barely make it to the mine before they get into weapons’ range.”
                  He gritted his teeth.  “Alys, ready weapons.  Maybe if we can throw a salvo of missiles in their teeth, the cruisers might pause long enough for us to make it to the mine.”
                  “You’re putting an awful lot of faith in the defensive turrets around the mine, Captain,” Rujarrik noted.  Then she flicked her ears, tipping her head to one side for a second.  “Not that I have any better idea.  And there are six of them.”
                  “They can throw a lot of missiles at those ships.”
                  “Might give them pause,” the lupusan admitted.  “I only wish I could get some more speed out of this ship.”
                  “Just ready your weapons, Leytenant,” Tariq told her.  “Once they’re in range, we throw everything we can at them and…”
                  “Pray?” Rujarrik asked, one ear flat to her skull and the other up.
                  “I was going to say do our best,” Tariq said with a frown.  He was having a hard time keeping his breathing calm.  This was all going to hell, and as those cruisers were very quickly closing the gap he could feel the noose tightening.  Where’s that miracle?
     
                  The missile fabrication was going apace.  There was already a production line for the weapons, with technicians and bots, with a smart computer running the whole thing.  It wasn’t as big or fast or impressive as the ones Tamara used to have back at the Hudora shipyard, but for their needs now it was adequate.  Or rather, it was until a whopping great fleet came