He had done it.
He had actually done it.
Grayson was on the ground in his cockpit, slightly disoriented but breathing. He could confirm it by the faint rise and fall of his chest.
Just as he was thinking about going out of the neural sync tube to check on Grayson, he heard Shelly's voice.
[Host! Incoming hostiles at seven o'clock! ∑(ﾟДﾟ)]
Neville came back to his senses and banked the mecha sharply, narrowly avoiding a cluster of plasma bolts that scorched past them. He could see three more pirate fighters breaking formation from the main convoy, their engines flaring bright blue.
"More? They really don't know when to quit."
He had the Tempest's light pulse gun charged, targeting reticle sliding smoothly over the lead fighter. The pulse fired at the dead center, and the enemy mecha erupted into a brilliant fireball.
It momentarily blinded the cockpit in orange light. The remaining fighters scattered, clearly reconsidering their strategy.
