“What is that?” he asked. The lights danced along the bulkheads, areas growing bright and dim. He could not see the source of the light, but the the bright colors looked like it had to have a source somewhere. It seemed odd that there was no sound accompanying it.

“We’re preparing for a jump into a known combat situation,” Effifteen informed him calmly. “We should get to our ships. The jump will be in approximately thirty minutes.”

“And you know all that from the color blue?” Cam asked. The NPC didn’t look to be in a rush and thirty minutes was plenty of time to get into his fighter.

“The shade changes closer to violet as we approach the jump time. You can approximate time remaining based on that. If it started out as violet, it would be an imminent jump--but as is, we have time to prepare.”

Cam nodded. Effifteen started walking towards the hangars. Cam followed. Everyone was bound to be heading there. Well, the pilots at least. Other people walked the hallways too, moving either towards the hangars or their stations in the ship. Cam and Effifteen were close to the main hangar so it only took them a minute to arrive. No one seemed worried, but everyone moved with motions of familiar hurriedness. They all knew where to go and what to do. They knew they had the time they needed, but not much to spare.

In the hangar, Effifteen headed towards the door on the immediate right which led to a briefing room that time and necessity had not let them use earlier. Will sat there already. Somehow he had arrived there first. Cam wasn’t too surprised. He had taken the route he and Will had used earlier, but that apparently was not the fastest. Will had said the boarders had been in their way to get to the hangers, but that could have meant he was afraid of running into them along any route they took so he took the way that would have the best advantage in an encounter. That and he had wanted to get Cam all the experience he could so he would have definitely gone a bit out of the way to ensure they encountered the boarders.

Effiteen headed towards the seats. Cam headed over to Will. The room was simply laid out. Five rows of seats were set in a stadium layout, so no one’s view would get blocked by someone sitting in front of them. There were about fifteen seats per row. Plenty for the full wing even before the losses today. Few of the other pilots had arrived yet, but they started trickling in, taking seats with familiarity, chatting in groups like it was their pre-flight routine. Cam chatted with Will a few minutes before the room filled up. He eventually found an open chair by himself. A few seats in the row were taken but he had three or four open on either side of him.

Even as the the pilots gathered, everything seemed fairly relaxed. This was not life and death after all. Some of them would most likely die out there, but that just meant they would respawn back at Caelestis’ forward base. Cam looked around, trying to mirror their attitude, but he could not fully hide his anxiousness. He enjoyed these games too much to be completely casual towards them and he was too new to want to mess up now. Dying out there was not the end of the world, but then he would be stuck back at some home base doing basic training or searching for any scrap of excitement instead of being able to help Will with his plan and mission. As much as Will had played off the deaths of the pilots earlier, Cam could understand no one wanted to be forced back to base away from the action. No one wanted their friends to be either.

The other pilots looked sure of themselves. Even if they were nervous, they had a bond with each other that came from flying together for so long. There was a comradery here. One sharp call today and better-than-decent flying would not let him just insert himself into their group as if he had flown with them for months--over a year actually, with the time dilation. They knew each other. He wondered how deeply their bond ran. Did the wingmen know when their wing leader would bank left or right to avoid a missile? Did they know what weapons each other favored? How likely each pilot of their wing would be to put himself in danger or how likely they would hold back? Cam would like to think so, even if it made it harder to graft himself into the group. It would make it all the better once he did. But he knew it would take time, no matter how good or sharp he flew.

The NPCs and the players congregated to opposite areas of the room. The NPCs were mostly in the back, away from the door. The players sat closer to the door leading back to the hangar. The NPCs were talking, but quietly so Cam could not make out anything said. He wondered why were they even talking. It brought up even more questions. Were the conversations part of the game simulating them acting like players? Did the NPCs have to talk to communicate or could they do it through other means? Each one acted like its own entity instead of just another bot, stamped from a mold, but they also deferred to the players heavily as if their simulated personalities were just for show.

He didn’t have much time to think about it. More pilots filtered in.

“You’re in my seat, Drone Boy.”

He looked up to see Lant walk up right next to him, standing as close as he could without actually stepping on Cam’s toes. Pete Lant, Cam reminded himself. The man seemed to be big on first names. Another pilot stood behind him.

“Didn’t realize it had your name on it,” Cam said as he looked up. He wondered again how easy a high level like Pete Lant could manhandle his character. Even if he put no points in strength, the natural gain from leveling would put him much higher than Cam. Lant’s large size could indicate he had a lot of points in strength already, although most pilots were decently muscled and size did not always indicate strength.

“I keep telling Will I need mine in nice large embroidered letters, but he always refuses.” For a moment Pete stood there, looking like he was ready to pummel Cam into the ground, but Cam found himself trying to hide a smile at this large man demanding embroidery on his seat. Demanding it from Will of all people. A moment later Pete broke into his own grin and slapped Cam on the shoulder. Again the pain dulled almost before it could register, but it had been a hard slap. Pete stepped over Cam, and took a seat two chairs down, his friend following, sitting on the far side so there was still an empty seat between the two and Cam.

“Whose seat is that?” Cam asked.

“Emma’s,” he answered with a grin.

“Ouch. Sure you don’t want to just fight me for yours?”

“Naw, this’ll be more fun. It’s a test.”

Cam arched an eyebrow. Despite Pete’s jock demeanor and rough attitude Cam was starting to like him. He seemed to be a guy who like to compete, to see who did best at everything, but at least he was talking civilly to Cam and not trying to act better than him.

Before he had the chance to ask Pete a friendly question, Pete nodded to the door. Cam turned to see Emma walk in. She glanced straight at Pete and frowned before stalking over.

“You’re in my seat, Lant,” came her voice, hard and cool. She was standing next to Cam, looking over at Pete. He was just getting himself mentally used to calling her by her first name. However here, she definitely looked the fighter pilot role, and it was tough to think of her as anything but Tophet. She also had a friend with her, another female pilot.

Pete just grinned as he answered. “Sure thing,” he said and then looked over at me. “Move, Drone Boy.”

“Leave him alone, Lant,” she said.

“You’re making me move from your seat, but I can’t make him move from mine?” He tried to look innocent, but his grin looked like a wolf’s.

Emma stood there a moment, a look of deliberation on her face. For a brief second she looked ready to hit Pete, but after a moment rolled her eyes.

“Fine,” she huffed. She nudged Cam’s leg with her knee. “Just move over one,” she said.

There was only one empty seat in either direction from Cam by now. There were plenty of other open seats, but apparently Emma wanted to at least sit near her normal spot. Rather than argue, Cam obliged, scooting next to Lant. Emma sat down next to him, her friend on the far side. Pete gave Cam a playful elbow and a knowing grin.

Cam shook his head. He felt like he was missing something and again the thought of all the time these pilots had spent with each other washed over him. There was clearly not anything going on between Pete and Emma, or else she would have specified which way for Cam to move seats. Had there been something before? Maybe. Cam thought their personalities clashed far too much for anything like that, but maybe it had happened long ago.

He didn’t have long to muse over that as Will stepped forward and began speaking.

“Alright pilots,” he said. “It’s showtime. I’ve got a lot to cover, and you’re probably not going to like it all.”

* * *

Will was right that few pilots liked it. The very nature of the plan required it, but it went against their instincts. They were here to fight, after all.

There was plenty of grumbling as they walked out of the briefing room, but grumbling was just their way of coping. No one actually spoke against Will’s plan. They trusted that he wouldn’t make them do it unless it was the best way he could think of.

Everyone made their way to their fighters and began preflight checks. The fighters looked well spaced out compared to the launch earlier. They had lost more than twenty fighters and pilots, where the full wing had been less than sixy. The small ships sat in rows of six. Five full rows with one extra sitting behind by itself. Fortunately Cam was still Emma’s wingman. He would have hated another change so soon. He was just starting to get a read on how she flew. Their drill was the only one who had no losses earlier but there was still a change to their formation, an addition. Thirty one pilots had survived, so with drills the size of six there was one extra. Ironically it was an NPC--Effifteen in fact--who joined them. Tophet would have two wingmen technically, although Effifteen was more there just to give him a place to fly rather than expect him to be a large factor in the success of the drill.

Cam’s fighter had been fully repaired and restocked. It had the two FtF missiles and its three drones replaced. Ammo compartments were also reloaded, although the amount of ammo he had used was minimal compared to what it had in it. That was another reason why drones were disliked, he had realized. Guns hardly ran out of ammo even in a long fight, but drones could be blown up. It didn’t change his attitude towards them, though. They were an interesting form of combat, effectively spreading his awareness across more of the battlefield. It made concentrating on all of it harder, for sure, but he could see some large advantages to the idea. If he could have a ship that could hold more of them he could maybe find more uses for them.

The hangar was quiet as Cam and the pilots strapped into their fighters. The hangar crew themselves were all but silent. Everyone knew what was going to happen, not just the pilots. Few liked it, even as they saw the reason. Or part of the reason. Will was still tight mouthed over some of the mission objectives, only telling the pilots what they needed to know now, for this battle. Yes, this was going to be a suicide mission and a long-term deployment. Which one it was depended on who you were talking to. Each guild member had their job and would do it.

Cam settled in and started powering up his ship for the launch sequence. In the last couple hours the Engra had jumped once and was now ready to again. The alarm lights only showed up on certain walls in the hangar, but the color had definitely gone from a blue into a deeper violet. A timer in his ship showed only three minutes left before the combat jump would be executed.

With the last jump, the Engra had moved farther into Aluvius territory. It had managed to avoid being detected only because most of the free Aluvius forces in the area had been destroyed in the last battle. Right now, there were certainly dozens of ships looking for it, moving in from the surrounding areas in their search. Fortunately it only had one more jump to its goal and it was about to take it.

Cam took a deep breath as the timer ran down. His ship was ready to go. He felt nervous for a minute. He was enjoying himself in this game. It was a vast difference between this and New Space. He felt like he was here, not just looking at a screen or through someone else’s eyes, but that this here was him. He flexed one of his hands, almost instinctively. It felt like it was his hand, not some simple avatar’s, no matter how many small differences it had from his real hand. What would he give to stay here? He knew this world was simulated, but that part of his mind was in conflict with what he saw around him. It felt real. He had a month off in real life from his job, but he planned on spending every possible minute of it in here. What would it feel like going back? He would experience three months as a space pilot thanks to the time compression, traveling through an amazing world. And then he would have to go be a normal human again, with a normal job, coming here only a few hours each day, missing more than a day in game each time he went through his normal work day.

He shook his head. It was easy to get lost here. He had few attachments in the real world; few friends, few commitments. His job was the biggest thing, and to be honest, that was mostly for money so he could go home and play games with his online friends.

“You okay over there?” came Emma’s voice over the comms. She was in a private line just for them. He looked over at her fighter, which was next to him. She was nestled in her cockpit, looking over at him, a small flash of concern in her face. He must have been staring blankly forward for a minute in his thoughts.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he answered, forcing a casual smile. He wondered what to make of this virtual universe. One that was felt as real as the real world, and much more exciting. But also one ruled by the whims of Numean, the company who made the game. “You ever think about the game versus the real world? About staying in game as much as possible?”

She laughed warmly. “Philosophizing already are you? You’re hardly the first to think through that. I think everyone who plays thinks about that at one point or another. If this world feels so real, then how real is it? Is it as real as we want it to be? Our senses are just neuron signals sent to our brain, and interpreted by brain signals. What is real after all?”

“So you have then?”

“We all have,” she said. “It’s been a while, but during the first few months there was some backlash when some players refused to exit the game. They were force exited by the developers, but I remember reading about two that went crazy trying to get back in. One even fought his own family, sending two to the hospital, trying to log back in his pod. He broke the console when it wouldn’t let him log back in.”

Cam remembered a news story about that. It was another sign for many about just how horrible video games were. Numean had suffered a huge backlash over it. They stood firm though, saying that they had the proper safeguards in to ensure the mental well being of their players, and that one or two edge cases should not ruin it for the entire player base. Cam had a few doubts about that, but nothing strong enough to not try Celestial Void. He wondered if Numean should have a maximum play time before players were forced to log out, but nothing like that was even mentioned in the news. Numean’s safeguards were all very vague when talked about. There was something about government oversight which eventually approved of it, but no details came out.

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

“Look, do yourself a favor,” Emma continued. “Once we get a chance for a break, log out. Get some dinner, go for a walk, whatever, just spend some time outside of the game. I heard you have a month off. Take breaks. It takes time to adjust to how real this game feels, but the truth is that if you die in the real world you die. You die here, it’s just a game. You’re back to life a moment later. That’s the difference.”

“Alright,” he said, nodding. “I’ll do that.”

She nodded back from her cockpit. “But stop the philosophy for now. Right now it’s showtime. Game face, Flyboy.”

He glanced at the timer. The last few seconds were ticking away. He took a deep breath and braced for the jump.

* * *

Less than a minute later he was flying in space. The jump landed them a thousand kilometers from their target, a supply station sitting in space, orbiting a small moon. The station was a hub for local fleets, but due to the fight that just happened and some counter-intelligence by Caelestis, few ships were in the local area. However, a thousand kilometers was too far for a reasonable engagement time (it would take the fighters almost fifteen minutes to burn to the station, and much longer for the Engra herself), so the Engra used its warp drives to quickly close the distance before launching the fighters. They ended up just over a hundred kilometers from the station, looking at it from above. It looked like a city laying on a circular disk. It stood relatively motionless in space. The moon’s gravity was low enough that the station barely had to move to keep an orbit up and the artificial in game gravity meant that stations and ships did not rely on spinning to simulate it. Six defense platforms were placed spread out like the faces of a die around the station. The Engra already started firing at the closest one.

For the first few minutes the fighters had nothing to do. They spread out to avoid any fire from the defense guns but otherwise stayed near the Engra and waited. They were escort duty. The station’s shields were strong enough that they would barely scratch them. On one side the large gas planet, more than a hundred thousand kilometers away dominated the view. On the other side sat open space. The system’s star lay near the edge of the moon’s horizon, small enough to look at without discomfort at this distance, but still clearly the central star of this system. It was eerily quiet as Cam sat there waiting for something to do.

The massive firepower of the Engra awed him as he watched. Streams of missiles burst out of launch bays and guns cycled, sending their rounds through the quiet of space to pound through the defenses. In the vastness of space even the Engra looked small, but she was a machine designed to bring forth destruction.

The first defense platform fell before it could fire more than a few rounds. The second was turned to slag less than a minute later. Those were the closest two. Two more were in range and the last two were on the far side of the station. The Engra split its attack, firing its long range weapons at the platforms and its more powerful guns at the station’s shields. By now the defenders were awake and scrambling against them. Fighters and other light craft began pouring out from the station’s docking bays. Several moored ships were in the process of undocking. Most were fighting craft, who were undoubtedly here to help with the defense of the station in a fight.

The Caelestis ships were heavily outnumbered. Even more than the last fight since it was only the fighters and the Engra. No allied fleet would jump in here, but enemy ships might. In order to take out the station they had to be quick.

“Engage, but fight defensively,” said Will. “If the choice is between a kill and avoiding a risk, avoid the risk.” He had gone over the battle strategy in the briefing room, but it always helped to hear reminders on the battlefield before the action got intense. The drill formations spread out as much as they dared and accelerated to engage the enemy. About halfway to the station--before they were within range of the enemy--they slowed down and reversed course. The maneuver sent them back towards the Engra and let only the lead enemy fighters come within range for the first few seconds. Those fighters had been eager to meet them in battle, but were relying on the fact that the wing would not want to give up ground so easily, and so would be joined by their fellow fighters within moments. After all the point of moving towards the station would normally be to give the Engra buffer room to protect it.

Cam brought his guns around on the closest ship. He had launched his drones during their burn and he sent those off towards fighters that were being targeted by other drills. The first enemy ship blew up in seconds under the concentrated firepower of the drill. The second one was able to slow down in time to avoid total destruction, but they had stripped off its shields and most of its armor before it left their range. Will fired a FtF missile at it as a parting gift. Unfortunately there were so many targets that the missile did not lock onto the right ship. Fortunately it locked on to another ship that was still rushing towards them. Will’s wingman, a pilot named Micah Saphner whom Cam had only just been introduced to at the briefing, also fired a missile. This one locked onto the same fighter and reached it before the pilot could avoid it, blowing the ship up in a satisfactory explosion.

As they continued their withdraw back to the Engra the drill picked off several other fighters, speeding up and slowing down to allow the enemy to make mistakes. These pilots did not seem at the same caliber as the pilots they fought earlier. Maybe they were just unprepared, or maybe station sitting was not a sought after post. Most likely these pilots would have been assigned here to work a job on the space station, and would be only scrambled for emergency defenses. By the time they reached the Engra they had taken down eight fighters, and that was only their drill. Just minutes into the engagement, the enemy fighters looked thinner and more manageable.

Once they were close enough to orbit the Engra the drill broke apart into pairs--leader and wingman. The Caeleste pilots were the better ones, so it benefited them to spread the enemy out to avoid focus fire and single out targets. Cam’s damage was still lower than pretty much everyone else in the wing even after spending all those skill points, but Effifteen joined him and Tophet. Cam could feel a difference from his added stats and skills though. His ship handled better and flew faster. His guns tracked better and did more damage. He could even see actual health numbers on friendly ships if they were close enough without having to pull up any special menus. It was not a grand change, but a hundred tiny ones that added up. Still, his personal skill and knowledge would be what would let him survive this battle, far more than his in-game skillset.

The Engra was taking a slow approach to the station. The closer it moved the more force its guns hit for, but it did not want to get too close to any undocking ships just yet. The smaller ones would be impossible to hit at close range if they were moving at all. The station’s shields were already at sixty percent. Cam wondered how armor worked for stations like that. After all, the buildings were visible, not hidden under anything. Did they still have armor, or would the Engra start blasting them to pieces once it was through the shields?

He didn’t have much time to worry about it though. The enemy fighters scattered to follow as many ships as they could. There was clearly little organization in the enemy ranks at the moment. They were scrambling to defend, but no one was leading them. Seven fighters chased after him, Tophet, and Effifteen. Normally it would be the wingman’s job to take care of any fighters on the leader, but it was far too many for him and Effifteen to take care of.

“Let me watch your six, Flyboy,” Tophet said, dropping speed just enough to let Cam pass. She was now the more tempting target, closer to their optimal range. He took the lead flying, controlling their path, but deferred to her targeting choices. She trained her guns on the nearest enemy and he locked the same target. It was slow going, eating through the enemy shields. Tophet was trying to stay about two kilometers in front of the enemy so Cam’s guns were deep in their falloff range, which hurt their accuracy and damage.

He let his drones drop back, closer to the lead fighter, but even then he dared not let them get too close. They flew in the space between Tophet and the lead ship, making random adjustments to their course to make it difficult to target. Even so, the back enemy ships started firing at them instead of Tophet as she was tougher to hit, so Cam had to watch in case they took too much damage. Effifteen flew between him and Tophet, letting her be a more tempting target, but close enough that his guns did more damage.

The path Cam lead them on was an orbit around the Engra. He kept just five kilometers away from the ship, and angled so they were not just making a circle, but more of a spiral procession that would criss cross other orbits around the ship. He couldn’t keep his ship’s maximum speed with his ship’s acceleration and that radius of an orbit, and Tophet had to slow down to match. Cam ended up with his nose pointed towards the Engra as his engines burned to keep the turn. The maneuver worked to their advantage as the enemy fighters all had different amounts of maximum acceleration and tried their best to follow and catch up. Some accelerated too far forward in their attempt, and ended up not able to make the tight turn. The lead enemy was apparently in front because it had the greatest acceleration and piloting skills.

The ship was able to close the distance in a few seconds, but since its allies were slow to follow all that meant was that the three of them had better shots on it and it only had a marginally better shot at Tophet. About halfway around the Engra its shields broke and its armor was peeled off as it tried to veer away. They would have had to let it get away for risk of getting too close to the other fighters, but Cam’s orbit around the Engra allowed two friendly fighters to angle in behind. They had a few enemies on their tail as well, so they had to maintain a fast speed, but they took out one of the other fighters and put pressure on the others, allowing Cam, Tophet and Effifteen to slow down just enough to take out the already damaged fighter as it tried to get away. As Cam accelerated forward again he saw two friendly missiles appear and target two other ships following them. The friendly fighters had to break off a moment later to prevent the enemy fighters tailing them from getting too close, but their help had already weakened the enemy formation.

The missiles locked two different fighters, which started burning in a straight line to avoid them. Their three friends followed.

“Let’s help them out,” Cam said, angling behind the fighters.

“Sounds good,” said Tophet.

“Roger,” said Effifteen.

He accelerated after them, and shot into the closest one’s shields. The enemy fighters were concentrating on the missiles, leaving him, Effifteen and, more importantly, Tophet free to attack. One more went down quickly as they chased. Fortunately the angle was away from the station and most of the other fighters. Thirty seconds later both missiles were destroyed but another enemy fighter was down. It was now three on three. They targeted Cam first, clearly realizing that he was the weakest of the Caelestis fighters. Tophet stayed in and brawled with them. Effifteen moved in and out to help her. Cam kept at range, kiting them along at as long range as he could and using his drones to help, but Tophet chewed them apart. At that close of range her biggest problem would be her guns tracking a shifting enemy. Cam moved in as straight of a line as he dared, allowing Tophet and Effifteen more chances to line up shots. It made him easier to hit, but it would do the same to any enemies that chased him.

His shields still dropped faster than he liked. At the last moment he activated his afterburner module, one of the two modules now on his ship that he could now use thanks to the Modular Connection skill. It boosted his speed and maximum acceleration by a significant amount--about fifty percent--but it only lasted a few seconds, and drained his reactor’s energy buffer in those few moments. His laser turned off as his available power dropped, and while his projectile guns would keep firing for now, the reload mechanism would require power in a few moments.

One of the enemy ships surged after him, having activated its own afterburner module. The other two accelerated a moment later, but he had gained precious ground from them. The last one blew up as it accelerated too late to avoid Tophet’s guns chewing through its hull.

But now Cam was now speeding away from his closest allies, with his guns at the barest capacity, and two enemies behind him, one who was in range and the other who was gaining.

He was ready to rethink his choices, but it was too late to do anything about it now. Tophet engaged her afterburner after the kill, but she was still a few seconds behind with Effifteen following her. That was one of the largest weakness with NPCs. Effifteen could have surged ahead and let Tophet finish the kill alone, or he could have gone for the kill himself, but he was flying too passive, looking to Cam and Tophet for leadership. He was helping, but not innovating. Just adding his guns to the fight, nothing more.

Cam’s drones were firing on the front ship, trying to damage it enough to force it to fall back, but his shields were down and his armor was dropping. His projectie guns fired their last rounds and, without power to reload, sat there. His drones dealt too little damage alone to get through the enemy shields in time, let alone disable the ship. He doubted he had the time for Tophet to catch up.

He was flying a long circle back towards the Engra. He was now finally heading towards it but still a good minute out. Despite all the action and danger behind him he took a moment to watch the battle in front of him. There wasn’t much he could do for either situation after all--at least for a few more moments--so might as well watch and learn if he could. The enemy fighters had thinned out even more. Corvettes and frigates from the station had joined the fight, forcing the Caelestis fighters to fall back or be destroyed. The Engra had almost pounded through the station’s defenses. Its own shields were still above half, but more enemy ships were closing range and blasting into it. Fortunately there was nothing like the Ichen class battlecruisers on the field, but the battleship could not last long if the enemy ships were not dealt with. Already two destroyers were close to it. Some of the smaller battleship guns were targeting them, but they were too small and too close for the larger guns to track at that range. The Engra had given up its window to destroy them quickly and easily as they approached, instead opting to focus on the station.

It was an amazing view, all things considered. The flashes of explosions, of lasers and other weapons hitting shields. Even the thrust of engines against the starry sky had its beauty. He wished he could continue to watch it unfold, but there were currently some pressing issues he needed to deal with first.

“Blue Nine, out!” came a call over the comms. He saw a Caelestis fighter being chased by enemies go dark. The ships chasing it were destroyed a moment later by Blue Nine’s companions.

That was it. The first of the Caelestis fighters gone.

He put it out of his mind. Right now the two enemy fighters were still on his tail and things were looking very bad for his armor. His afterburner still held out, but the lead ship must have reloaded before hitting the afterburner as it still was firing.

Before they could chew through more of his ship, he detached both his FtF missiles without activating their main engine. He was still accelerating, albeit slowly, so they fell behind immediately. A moment later he activated them.

That moment was enough for the lead fighter to close some distance to the missiles, and its afterburner made it harder to maneuver. The missiles still had their momentum from when Cam detached them and so were just slightly slower than the enemy, moving in the same direction. It was easy for them to adjust course and cut off its path.

“Red Twelve, out!” Another Caelestis fighter gone. Cam barely heard it as his missiles closed the distance.

Both missiles exploded at the same time. Unfortunately it meant that the explosions interfered with each other, so it did not do as much damage as if they had exploded separately, but they were too close to each other for one to blow up without the other. It stripped the rest of the shields off the lead fighter and most of its armor. It pulled away, but Cam’s drones stuck with it to finish it off.

“Red Nine, out!”

“Gold Four, out!”

More friendlies winked out within the space of a few moments. He angled away from the battle again as the last fighter tried to close in on him. Cam was slower, but the enemy was still in its falloff range for the moment, and Cam’s armor was low, sitting at twenty percent and still dropping. It concentrated on the backside of his ship, but he still had to be careful. His coverage would be thin, and a bad shot could still damage his hull. He had hoped to be able to rejoin the main battle again--if only to farm some more experience if nothing else--but it looked like he was lucky to get the kills he had got.

“Blue Seven, out!”

He pulled his drones in close just before his afterburner cut out. A shot hit his engines, cutting their effectiveness. One of his drones reached him finally and he put it between himself and the enemy, but it was too small to be an effective shield.

“It’s your turn, Calvera,” came Tophet’s voice over their channel.

Cam nodded. She had closed in and was taking down the fighter’s shields. He recalled his drones back into his ship as the enemy’s armor hit half.

“Red Six, out!” he said over the comms before performing one last juke on his flight path and cutting off his reactor.