“Shields up, weapons hot,” Jack replied.
She checked her screen and watched as the Alosian Fleet broke formation to engage the enemy. Small fighters emerged from the belly of every Phoenix-Class cruiser. The fat Antauran ships opened their main hangars, allowing a flurry of dreadwings to fly into the endless darkness.
“Fighter drones incoming,” Jack reported.
Anna looked up through the window with her lips pressed together. “Okay then,” she said. “Let’s do this.”
Her sensors painted green dots on the SmartGlass. Dozens of them flying in a grid pattern. When she zoomed in, she saw them for what they were: small, automated robots with two wicked prongs bursting from their noses like a pair of tusks.
One was headed right for her.
It spat a glob of green plasma.
Taking the flight-stick
