were finding their marks. Their shells and sabot blew apart the magnetic vectoring rings that aimed the aliens' guns. Beams from damaged defensive batteries stabbed at empty space and sliced at the vacuum to no effect, but most of the cruiser's guns remained functional.
Witt's squadrons flew too predictably. They were mostly new pilots and the nuggets made easy pickings for the alien gunners. Even the slow and laggard big guns meant for hitting capital ships took fighters from the sky. The beams stabbed and sliced at the 38th Special Delivery Squadron as the modified Bitzers released fission warheads and pulled away. Some of their bombs got through, but their losses were heavy. It was hard for Jordo and the Lancers to watch so many nuggets die like that. Maybe because most of the Lancers had died in their first engagements, too, before they had a chance to really learn anything.
"Those nuggets down there are getting chewed to hell," Dirty said.
Paladin sounded grateful. "For once it's not us in the meat grinder."
Jordo said, "Yeah, it is."
Right away, Paladin groaned on comms because he knew what was coming. "No. C'mon, Jordo. Hell, no. Just let them do it. We got a pass this time... It's not our asses getting blown away for once."
The reactor flashes from mortally wounded friendlies and bandits played over the insides of the Lancers' cockpits like distant lightning. "Those new pilots can't out-fly the enemy batteries," Jordo said. "But you can, Paladin. And you have to because your goddamn name is Paladin." That was the name painted on his helmet, the hero name he hadn't yet earned on the day he got it. If Paladin had gotten a name he'd earned, then it would have been 'Asshole'. So Jordo gave him a better name on credit. "You remember way back, a hundred furballs ago when you wanted a hero nickname and I gave you 'Paladin'? The condition was you live up to it."
"Fuck you, J. Jordo Colt."
Gush said, "We've got orders to stay right here with the Hellcats. You know what they do when you disobey those kind of orders."
"Lancers, on me." Jordo spun his 151 on its maneuvering jets and blasted away from the Hellcats' formation, corkscrewing down towards the alien ship with the squadron behind him on the same line. As the acceleration pushed him back into the flight couch, he heard Hellcat 1-1 shouting in his ear over comms. "Lancer squadron, return to position! You are disobeying Matilda Witt's direct orders." No shit, he thought. "Lancer 1-1!" she said. "Acknowledge! You don't know what you're doing!" She screamed in his ear a few more times.
He thought that's the last he'd hear from her, but once the Lancers penetrated the planet's glowing magnetosphere and began to close the last few thousand Ks to target, she buzzed him less than 10 meters away, passing him at full thrust. Hellcat 1-1 flipped Lancer 1-1 the bird. Then, she and her squadron used their superior acceleration to blast into battle whole seconds ahead of the Lancers.
The visor of his flight helmet suddenly filled with new NAV vectors and orders from Taipan Control. The orders blinked along with transparent projections of large, red, directional arrows that half-blocked his vision. He heard a thin, male voice he'd never heard before order him back into position. It warned him about disobeying orders.
The Hellcats flew smart. They shot across the enemy's fields of fire with so much angular momentum that the alien gunners couldn't easily catch them. The Hellcats aimed their cannon at the defensive batteries that were targeting the flights from the 99th and 38th and 23rd. After they rained down hell, they pulled away for another pass, and then, the Lancers suddenly became the closest targets on that side of the alien hull. The Squidy gunners opened up. Now, it was a duel between the alien gunners and the Lancers, and the Squidies didn't stand a chance.
Time seemed to slow down all around him as if the whole universe just couldn't keep up with J. Jordo Colt.
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