One Good Soldier

matter of time before they had new rookies that needed to be teamed up with more seasoned pilots. No matter, when DeathRay was away the Gods of War would notice the absence. Fish knew she'd just have to make up for it. Besides, wasn't nobody better than her anyway.

'Hard right, Fish! Hard right!' Dragon shouted. 'Guns, guns, guns!'

'Ho, woo, shit!' She pulled back right on the stick, huffing and puffing against the g-load of her maneuver while adding throttle and slip. Her g-suit squeezed the hell out of her thighs and midsection, as her teeth clenched the mouthpiece, releasing oxygen and stims. A mecha-to-mecha missile passed way too fucking close to her plane.

'Dragon, where the hell are you?' She could see her wingman out there behind her in her DTM mindview but couldn't get a visual on the rookie pilot. The blue dot in her virtual battlescape displayed him bouncing around like a wild man. She hoped his physical stamina would hold up. Not pacing themselves was a big mistake that a lot of new pilots made in their first combat missions. Fish needed to get him to settle down.

'Fox three!' Dragon shouted as he barrel-rolled over Fish, going to his mecha-to-mecha missiles. 'Ha! That's two of you mothers!'

'Great flying, Dragon. Try to pace yourself and don't make it harder than you have to,' Fish ordered him.

'Got it, Fish,' he panted back to her.

'We're getting pounded, Fish!' Lieutenant Commander Charles 'Stinky' Allen complained over the net. 'Just once I'd like to be on the side that has superior numbers. This shit is thick.'

'Just another target-rich environment, Stinky,' replied Fish.

'The best way to give us superior numbers is to kill a shitload more of them. Then we'll outnumber 'em and really give them hell,' Lieutenant Denise 'Crash' Fourier added.

'Roger that, Crash.' Stinky grunted against a high g-load maneuver he was huffing and puffing his way through. 'Damnit! Guns, guns, guns!'

'Dragon, you with me back there?' Fish scanned her DTM for more Seppy Gomers—there were plenty of Gnats and Stingers everywhere. She spotted a group of four Gomers moving in on Stinky and his new wingman, Lieutenant Junior Grade Song 'TigerLady' Davis.

'Roger that, Fish,' Dragon replied.

'Upstairs, angels ten, twelve o'clock high.' She waited for Dragon to spot the bogies in his DTM.

'Got 'em.'

The flight-wing missions were usually the same for the Madira pilots. The Gods of War typically kept the outer part of the ball clear and watched the backs of the Demon Dawgs. The Dawgs in turn watched the backs of the Utopian Saviors so the Marine mecha pilots could get in close with the objective, in this case an enemy supercarrier, and inflict as much damage as they could.

Fish pitched up ninety degrees and finally caught a clear visual of her wingman. Ensign Zeke 'Dragon' Franklin was almost directly behind her, rolling around and around her line of flight, still wasting too much of his physical endurance. She pitched back over and then pulled in tight on his right wing, forcing him to settle into formation with her.

'TigerLady, Stinky, you've got four Gomers on your six. You'd better watch your ass before they get the drop on you.'

'Roger that, Fish! I see 'em,' Stinky replied.

'Stinky, these bastards are hellbent for us,' TigerLady shouted. 'We better do something quick to shake these motherfuckers! I'm getting pinged by a targeting tone!'

'Hold on for a few more seconds. We're coming.'

Fish slammed the throttle all the way forward and pulled the stick to her stomach. Dragon stayed tight on her wing. They shot up into the higher altitudes of the engagement zone, in the direction of the QMT facility. They were already pulling six gravities, but anytime they had to juke or jink, the g-load shot up in the nine gravities range. Time was critical. If they didn't get up to Stinky and TigerLady in time to disrupt the Gomers on their six, the two pilots would be in serious trouble. Fish wasn't going to let that happen. DeathRay would kill himself to prevent that from happening. If that was what it took, that would just be what it took. Fish was beginning to realize the burden of being the squad commander. She couldn't imagine how it must feel to be the CAG.

'What's the plan, Fish?' Dragon said faintly against the added gravity.

'Okay, Dragon, we'll use DeathRay's favorite approach,' Fish replied.

'Yeah, what's that?' the young ensign asked eagerly, hoping to learn some new wisdom and tactic of being a fighter pilot.

'DeathRay would say, 'All right, Fish, we fly in there, and we kill those motherfuckers.' So I think we should do that,' Fish grunted.

'Uh, right. Good plan.'

Spike, work the scenarios. Too bad Jack ain't here. He's missing all the fun, she thought to her AIC.

Roger that, Fish. He's probably goldbricking. A