Shotglass and Hunter warned me that the Cats liked to ambush unwary pilots. Their favorite trick was to use a lone, and seemingly damaged light fighter. When an unsuspecting Confed pilot rolled in for the quick kill, a pair of heavies lurking just out of sensor range would roll in. It had happened enough times that you’d think we’d stop falling for it, but I guess not.
The Colonel had paired me up with Maniac. We’d been classmates at the Academy. I can’t say that we ever hit it off, although we may have nearly hit each other a few times. Maniac thinks that his callsign is a compliment. It’s not.
Sure enough, Maniac got buck fever the moment he saw that Salthi. It was like he didn’t already have a fair number of kills. That left me to save his worthless butt from the two Gratha that immediately jumped us. The only way to do that was to out Maniac Maniac. I burned in hard and snapped behind the first Gratha. A entire capacitor of Mass Drivers and a Dumbfire later, and that one was toast. I had to engage the second Gratha as well.
The Krants lurking before the asteroid field were practically easy by comparison.
I hate flying with Maniac.