Romy readjusted her grip on the dual triggers, grimacing at the slick sweat inside her suit gloves. “I think we’d have a better chance shooting underneath the cockpit. If we take out their stabilisers, it will buy time.”

“You got it, Ro,” Phobos said.

If Elara was the best pilot in their knot, Romy was the best gun. Romy liked to think that if rank was decided on battle skill alone, their knot might fare a bit better.

“Roger that, honey,” Deimos added.

She glanced over her shoulder at him. He was sitting unusually still in front of the gun. It wasn’t just her body that was experiencing fear, then.

“Drop us, Ellie,” Thrym ordered.

Unfortunately, they were already upside-down when Elara obeyed, and Romy’s stomach rose into her throat. She hardly noticed it as she screamed, “Fire!”

She didn’t know if she was the only one shouting, or if everyone screamed at the same time. Knot 27 threw a wall of explosive power at the underside of the poacher craft.

Romy struggled to retain her sense of direction as Elara threw them in stupefying twists and spirals.

How many poacher ships were in pursuit? It would only take one laser strike in the right place for their craft to become an inferno.

Someone in their craft was crying, “Die!” at the top of their lungs. And Romy was afraid it was more likely to be them dying than the Critamal.

Knot 27 had agreed at fifteen years old that they’d rather die than be taken hostage. The Critamal’s hostages were never returned alive. And never in one piece—a string of pieces would be a more accurate description. But the worst thing was that their comrades’ eyes had always turned yellow—the same beady yellow as the Critamal’s eyes.

No one knew what interrogation by the Critamal involved. And it wasn’t worth finding out.

Romy kept up a steady wave of bullets until Thrym called a halt. Romy’s plan hadn’t worked. The control panels were strongly reinforced.

“Why isn’t it working?” Thrym’s voice rose above the din.

Romy swallowed repeatedly as they swung and lurched through space. She could only glimpse the smallest bit of red fire and grey battlers in the distance. Their force. Too far away.

Phobos was gagging behind her from the relentless dodging.

“Is it me, or is the fat ship keeping us on one side?” Deimos asked, unaffected by the motion.

Romy studied the ship, lips pressed in a grim line. “No idea.” She fired at three Critamal ships in her sight. They were relentless! No matter that Elara was keeping them alive, she just couldn’t shake them from Knot 27’s tail.

“Let’s see.” Elara dipped, slamming on the thrusters, spiralling atop the massive craft and to the other side.

The ship starboarded away.