to pounce on any incoming threat. The three Republican craft moved slowly on, the Oracle still absorbing data from high level with the phased plasma array working silently within the disc above its fuselage. "Golds, this is Scope," a different voice now spoke from the surveillance craft, "inbound sliders from three-two-zero, two hundred kilometres, strength three." "Roger, Scope," Lacroix answered, "knock it off there. Head for home." Griffiths followed his leader as she banked around and climbed, turning her back on the inbound enemy fighters and throttling up to keep a good distance. The heavy Oracle followed suit, dragging itself through a wide turn before increasing speed to power up through the atmosphere. Griffiths resented the move. It was only three enemy fighters. He had found the last two to be easy enough, and was confident that with Lacroix, being a 15 kill ace herself, the enemy craft would not be a problem. "Enemy craft now at one hundred and eighty klicks," the Oracle observer transmitted, concern creeping into his voice, "they're closing the gap." "Scope Five Five, this is Gold One," Lacroix called, "can you make it out of the atmosphere and increase speed before the sliders are in weapons range?" "Gold One, affirm," the observer replied after a pause, "we're activating counter measures, it should confuse their scanners once they're within one hundred klicks." Griffiths let out a frustrated sigh. That meant the Oracle could extend the gap again before it came under threat and escape without a