Devon's Blade Read Free

some basic moves. Try and keep up with me,” Skip said over the comm. It was obvious he didn’t know who he was flying with.
    Skip did a shallow left turn and then promptly dove for the deck. Diving was something the Swift excelled at, heavy as she was. I rolled over and pushed my controls forward as we dove nearly straight down.
    Skip’s fighter started pulling up after our altitude bled away to less than a thousand meters. He then started yanking and banking in a series of maneuvers designed to shake someone off your tail. It was all pretty standard stuff and he executed them to perfection. Nothing wrong with his technical flying. That had me thinking there must be another reason this unit was doing so poorly. Maybe the enemy was adapting to standard Alliance practices and it was time to mix things up. My thoughts were interrupted as Skip’s fighter broke hard right and a second Swift came at me with practice guns blazing. Each fighter had the ability to switch to empty bore, electronics only simulated guns. It was how we practiced dog fighting against each other. My forward shields were nearly depleted before I managed to barrel roll away from the attacker. I wound up kissing the waves inverted for a while before rolling over and banking hard in a full afterburner climb.
    I heard Skip’s voice over the comm, “Holy shit Commander, that was incredible!”
    Checking my short range scanners I saw the third Swift preparing to dive on me from behind the sun. This pilot was not playing by the book.
Excellent
.
Let’s see what they can do then.
    I kept my stern shields facing the incoming aggressor and went into a modified version of my personal evasion maneuver. Modified because I normally used it in space and there were some aspects that didn’t translate to the gravity of a planet.
    The new fighter stuck to my six like a magnet.
Impressive
. I sustained several hits on my port wing as I tried to shake it. Finally I cut power and banked hard to try and get it to pass me by. Normally that wouldn’t work, but I also released some hydrazine into the sky that crystallized in the thin air and looked for all the world like I was actually hit or at least suffering from some kind of damage.
    It must of caused the pursuing pilot a moment of pause because I was able to get behind it and engage again. Seconds later I heard the kill siren in my helmet and knew that I had won the battle.
    The beaten Swift pulled up beside me and I could see the gray wolf’s head on it’s fuselage. It was Katya.
    “Nice moves, boss,” she said over the comm link. I could hear the respect in her tone.
    Skip’s fighter slid into formation off of Katya’s wing as we headed back to base.
    “You have to teach us those crazy counters, Commander. That was some amazing flying back there,” Skip said.
    “You bet,” I said.
    * * *
    Later that day I started going over the service records and mission stats for the squadron. It was not a pleasant task. Katya’s initial comment about who I angered to get sent here was not far off the mark. Many of the pilots assigned to the 389th Tactical Fighter Squadron were misfits and screw ups. They were either working off debt or they were so incompetent that their previous commanders had found the need to get rid of them.
    Two of them were facing court martial for disciplinary issues and another fifteen were rated poorly in proficiency training. It was no wonder the unit had such a poor combat record, half of them were slackers and the other half were criminals. Maybe I was missing something.
    I went back over each person’s record more closely a second time. That’s when I started to notice a trend. Nearly all of the pilots assigned here had been outstanding recruits but were sidelined by a series of unfortunate incidents that seemed to cause them to lose faith in their own abilities. Either they were traumatized by some combat experience or got into trouble trying to avoid flying combat missions. All of them