13
The gray-brown surface of Ganymede filled her canopy window while a wireframe outline of an Antauran fighter sped toward her. Bright blue particle bursts threatened to overpower her shields.
Jena thumbed the hat-switch.
Her ship slid upward, and the bolts zipped past under her belly. The wireframe of her enemy was still there in her window. She reoriented herself and fired with her own particle weapons.
Thin orange bolts converged on her enemy, which flashed as its shields absorbed the impact. “Take that, you little s**t,” Jena said. “I was flying these things before you even learned to shave your-”
A harsh screeching sound.
The shuttle used audio signals to alert her to the presence of someone on her tail. She pulled up and watched the moon slide away to be replaced by a field of
