but let the target get ahead of me. No you don’t. I thought, hitting my overburn and blasting after it, taking a corner at speed and gaining ground. The tail stuck to me, continuing to fire.
I took a hit that nearly overwhelmed my shields. But I focused on the ship in front, which dove downward. So I cut my acclivity ring and slammed on my overburn, turning into a gut-wrenching dive. Lights flashed on my control panel to warn that without my acclivity ring, nothing would prevent me from slamming right into the ground.
“I don’t know who you’re fighting,” M-Bot said. “But those warning beeps indicate that you’re not doing a good job.”
As a companion to his words, the line on the top of my canopy warned that I’d just overwhelmed my GravCaps, and the g-force indicator started to flash red. In a real ship, I’d be hit with all those g-forces, which—in a dive—would push the blood to my head and make me start to red-out.
“Try not to die,” M-Bot noted. “I don’t want to be left alone with Rodge. He’s boring.”
I passed into the trail of another chunk of falling, burning metal—sparks bouncing off my shield, making it light up and crackle with energy. I’d lost the tail, which had fallen far behind, but I wasn’t close enough to the one in front.
It can’t keep diving. I thought. We’re approaching the ground.
I gritted my teeth, then lanced the chunk of debris right as my target cut to the side and flew back up. I swung all the way around the debris, then reengaged my acclivity ring and hit my overburn again. The maneuver made me swoop in a complete circle and dart upward, right past the Krell ship.
I blasted my IMP, then the flashing line on the canopy went full red.
“Ha!” I said over the group line. “Your children will weep tonight, you holographic Krell bastard!”
“Seriously, Spin?” FM said. “You’re saying that ironically, right?”
“Irony is a coward’s weapon!” I said. “Like poison. Or the destructors on Jerkface’s ship.”
“Wouldn’t a coward use, like, a really big bomb?” FM said. “Something you could launch from far away? Seems like you’d need to get close for poison.”
“As our resident expert,” Nedd said, “I’d like to point out that the true coward’s weapon is a comfortable couch and a stack of mildly amusing novels.”
“You’re still dead, Spin,” Jerkface said, flying his ship down near mine. “You redlined, possibly causing permanent retinal damage. If this were a real battle, you’d undoubtedly be incapacitated—and your ship would be unshielded. You’d be dead in moments thanks to that Krell tailing you.”
“Doesn’t matter,” I said, amused at how offended he sounded. Was he really that threatened by my aptitude? “My task was to take down my target’s shields, which I did. My tail is irrelevant; Cobb’s orders were to IMP that target.”
“You can’t keep cheating the simulation,” Jerkface said. “You’re going to be useless on the battlefield.”
“I’m not cheating anything. I’m winning.”
“Whatever,” he said. “At least you didn’t slam your ship into mine this time. Stars help the person who gets between Spin and her attempts to look good in front of everyone.”
“What?” I said, growing annoyed at him. “You—”
“Enough chitchat,” Cobb said. “Spin, that was some good flying—but Jorgen is right. You ultimately failed by getting yourself killed.”
“Told you,” Jerkface said.
“But—” I said.
“If you’ve got time to argue,” Cobb interrupted, “I’m obviously not working you hard enough. The lot of you, run yourselves through three sets of gamma-M formation exercises before dinner. Jorgen, make sure it happens.”
“Wait,” Kimmalyn said. “You’re leaving?”
“Of course I am,” Cobb said. “I’m not going to go to dinner late. Cobb out.”
“Great,” Hurl said. “Thanks for nothing, Spin.”
Wait, she couldn’t possibly blame me for this extra work instead of Jerkface, could she? Jerkface organized us into a gamma-M formation, a type of monotonous flying exercise. It only took us about ten minutes, but I spent the entire time stewing, growing more and more frustrated. I even ignored M-Bot as he tried to talk to me.
Once it was done, I pulled off my helmet, ignoring Jerkface’s call for a lineup and vocal sound off. I just . . . I needed a break. A moment to myself. I wiped the sweat from my face, pushing back the hair that had been plastered to my forehead by the helmet.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
My holographic cockpit vanished.
“What are you doing?” Jerkface demanded, standing beside my seat. “Do you have your helmet off? I called lineup!”
“I