Together, the Looking Glass and Gunmetal Gyre tore free of New Barath’s violet atmosphere, cannonfire snapping at their sterns as four maroon-emblazoned Aeris-class fighters rapidly closed with the fugitives.
“I thought you said these were ‘local mooks’, Krellos,” Stroth commed anxiously from within the Looking Glass. “That’s the livery of Montreau Conservatory!”
“I’ll admit, the professionals were quicker on the uptake than I expected,” Krellos conceded, slowing the Gyre to cover the Glass with its heavier shielding. “But I’ve worked with Montreau before. I know their playbook. Case in point…”
Pummelled from above, Stroth instinctively dove downward, only to face two more wedge-shaped Montreau fighters still climbing out of New Barath’s gravity to either side.
“They’ll try ta box us in before deliverin’ the fatal blow,” Krellos explained with almost professorial calmness. “Get some distance and we’ll spread ‘em thin.”
Stroth hesitated, fearing that separating would further expose her, but she trusted his expertise. Banking away from the planet, she gave the thrusters everything, outpacing her pursuers. One of the Montreau ships accosting Krellos vanished from her radar, followed by the other.
Still taking fire, Stroth cut power to thrusters and dialled everything into shield strength, hoping that the Montreau fighters’ momentum would carry them right past her before they could react. To her surprise, the move worked flawlessly, and she was rewarded by blossoms of iridescent fire as Krellos’ precise shots tore into her assailants.
“What’d I tell ya?” the bounty hunter remarked in gruff amusement. “Nothin’ but mooks.”
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