Krill stared grimly at his scanner. He was focused, maintaining his eerie calm even as he recognized the gravity of the situation. Ice. The call sign had been his since the Academy, one his classmates had unanimously agreed was a perfect fit. And now he put it to the test.

He wasn’t going to get close, not in time. That left one choice. He had to score a hit from long range. He stared hard at the screen. The enemy was too close to Raptor. There was no time.

He moved his hand, adjusting the firing solution. Then he fired…and missed.

Again. Another miss.

He could feel the heat on his neck, even his own unflappable demeanor beginning to fail. He and Stockton weren’t friends, not exactly. But they were comrades. And they were the best, members of an elite group. He couldn’t fail. He just couldn’t.

He leaned forward, moving the stick slowly, lining up another shot.

His finger closed slowly, even as he was still adjusting his line. He heard the sound of the lasers firing, again and again as he held his finger on the trigger.

His eyes were locked on the targeting display when the enemy ship vanished. He leaned back, let his hand fall away from the throttle, felt the tightness drain from his muscles. He’d done it, a one in a hundred shot.

He’d saved Raptor.

*   *   *

“Thanks for the assist, Ice.” There would have been a time when Stockton couldn’t have imagined a worse fate than thanking his rival for saving his life. But he’d experienced total war now, and he knew it had changed him. Petty rivalries seemed pointless.

“Any time, Raptor, now let’s…” Krill’s voice trailed off. Stockton saw it too. An enemy fighter coming up right behind Krill.

“Ice, you’ve…”

“I see him, Raptor.”

Stockton could hear the tension in Krill’s normally even voice. He was the one in trouble now, and he knew it.

“On my way, Ice.”

Stockton pulled back hard on the throttle, pushing it to the side, trying to bring his bird back toward Krill’s ship. But his vector and velocity were still taking him farther from his comrade’s ship. His eyes dropped to the display, looking for any other friendlies close enough to intervene. Nothing.

“Fuck!” He banged his free hand against the console as he watched what was happening on the display. Ice was maneuvering wildly, trying to shake his pursuer. But his attacker was right on his tail…and closing.

Stockton reached down, opened a small panel under his control panel. His fingers reached around, finding a small lever. He pulled.

“Deactivate safety mechanisms?” The AI’s voice was dispassionate, professional.

“Yes,” Stockton answered. “Increase reactor output to one twenty.”