“One found me,” I said. “I’m bearing down on your seven, and should meet you at the battle in a few seconds.” M-Bot’s projections placed that right at the same time the others would arrive.
“Wait,” Nedd said. “Am I an idiot, or did Spin just say her ship spoke?”
“Hi, Nedd!” M-Bot said. “I can confirm you are an idiot, but all humans are. Your mental abilities appear to be within a standard deviation from their average.”
“It’s complicated,” I said. “Actually, no it’s not. My ship can talk, and you should ignore him.”
“Quake and tremble at my majestic destructive power!” M-Bot added.
“You two sound well suited to each other,” Arturo said. “I’m glad you’re here, Spin. Do you . . . maybe have a plan?”
“Yes,” I said. “First, let’s see how they react to me. Stand by.”
I flipped M-Bot on his axis and overburned backward, slowing from our incredible approach. Even with his advanced GravCaps, I felt the g-forces slam me back in my seat. As soon as we hit Mag-2.5, I spun us around in the air and took assessment. Sixteen Krell fighters.
This was it. I had another chance.
Time to stop that bomb.
I sliced through the center of the Krell ships at speed, buzzing the bomber and its close guard of three remaining black ships. I turned upward and gave them a good view of M-Bot, with his wicked wings and dangerous silhouette. He had four destructor pods—which I hoped they wouldn’t see were empty—and an obviously advanced and powerful design.
The Krell always targeted what they considered the most dangerous ship or the one bearing an officer. I counted on them seeing M-Bot, and . . .
. . . and they immediately gave chase. A flock of thirteen ships, all but the three black ones, broke off and swarmed after me, firing a chaotic array of destructors.
Excellent. Terrifying, but excellent.
“We have to stay just ahead of them, M-Bot,” I said. “Keep them strung along, thinking they’ll get the upper hand on us at any moment.”
“Understood,” he said. “Yar.”
“Yar?”
“Assumed pirate-speak, but actually a stylized West Country accent popularized by the acting role of a specific individual. It’s supposed to be intimidating.”
“Okay . . .” I shook my head and eased us through a complex Ahlstrom loop.
“The holes in my memory did leave some eclectic tidbits,” he said. “Yar.”
I cut right, watching the proximity sensors, and noted that Arturo, Quirk, and Nedd had arrived.
“Is this all of us, Amphi?” I asked.
“Riptide Flight is incoming, about a minute and a half out,” Arturo said. “Jorgen is assigned with them, and a couple of older pilots I don’t know. I think they picked up some scouts on the way, so FM might be there too.”
“Great,” I said, grunting and turning my ship in another sequence of dodges. “Until they get here, see if you and Nedd can harry that bomber. Be careful, those black ships guarding it are more capable than your average Krell. Just try to drive the bomber away so it—”
“Negative,” Ironsides said over the line. Great. Of course she was listening. “Pilots, you bring down that bomber.”
“As much as I’d like you to sacrifice yourself, Ironsides,” I said, “let’s determine if we need that first. Amphi, Nedder, see what you can do.”
“Gotcha, Spin,” Nedd said.
“And me?” Kimmalyn asked.
“Hang back,” I said. “Take aim on that bomber. Wait until its shield is down and its guards are distracted.”
The private light on my comm flashed.
“Spensa . . .,” Kimmalyn said. “Are you sure you want to leave this to me? I mean . . .”
“I don’t have any weapons, Quirk,” I said. “It’s you or nobody. You can do it. Get ready.”
I dove low, destructor blasts flashing all around me. We skimmed the ground, my entourage following like an angry swarm of insects. Scud. I could see Alta right ahead. We were close.
Up above, Nedd and Arturo engaged the bomber’s black guards. I didn’t have time to pay attention, as I was forced to dodge in another direction, bolting out of the way of a force of Krell that had looped around to try to cut me off.
A couple of destructor blasts hit M-Bot’s shield.
“Hey!” M-Bot said. “Just for that, I shall hunt your firstborn children and laugh with glee as I tell them of your death in terrible detail, with many unpleasant adjectives!”
I groaned. He’d said it over the group channel again.
“Please tell me,” I said, “that I don’t sound like that.”
The others didn’t reply.
“A pox of unique human diseases—many of which cause an uncomfortable swelling—come upon you!”
“Oh, scud. That is how I sound, isn’t it?” I gritted my teeth, hitting the booster to cut ahead of the enemy. There were so many of them. All they needed were a few lucky shots.
But all I needed was to keep them busy for a little longer. I cut right and speared one with my lightlance, using its momentum to spin me in a tight turn. I darted around its companions as I released the one I’d lanced, sending it flying in an awkward tumble.
Now up. I cut up and around a hillside, moving away before the Krell could corner me.
“Spensa?” M-Bot said.
Down. I dove, right before some Krell ships tried to cut me off in the other direction.
“How are you doing that?” he asked.
Right. I turned through the center of some ships coming at me. Destructor blasts skimmed my wings, but not a single shot landed.
“You’re reacting,” he said, “to things they haven’t done yet.”
I could sense their orders in the back of my mind. Quiet yet piercing, the commands traveled from above down to these Krell. They were communicating using another space, another place—and I could tap into it. Listen in on their commands.
I was somehow internalizing their commands, and responding to them before I knew what I was doing.
I tried not to let that freak me out.
M-Bot was incredibly agile, capable of quick boosts and deliberate slices in one direction or another. As I flew, it seemed as if I could feel him—feel the very lines of electricity that passed my orders through his fuselage. I flew with the immediate, unconscious skill of a person flexing their muscles. With the precision of a cautious surgeon, but the frenetic energy of the strongest athlete. It was incredible.
I was so consumed that I almost missed it as Arturo radioed in. “Spin, this isn’t working. Those black ships refuse to be pulled away from the bomber. They engage us if we get close, but fall back when we draw away. And the bomber is still flying on a steady course.”
“ETA until the enemy reaches position to destroy Igneous?” I asked.
“Under two minutes,” M-Bot said. “At current speed of—”
“This is Riptide leader, callsign: Terrier,” a male voice said. “What in the North Star’s light is happening here?”
“No time to explain,” I said. “Flightleader, take everything you have and hit those black ships that are protecting the bomber.”