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fighter like a swarm of angry insects, exploding prematurely as the fighter pilot released some kind of chaff to distract them. A second Dread fighter appeared overhead, also targeting the mech.
    The mech moved almost gracefully, sliding down the decline toward the water, shifting to fire at the newcomer. Plasma beams and projectiles crossed over one another, leaving the mech down an arm and the fighter without the rounded wing on its left side. It vanished behind the trees, the thunder of its crash and a cloud of smoke appearing seconds later.
    "What the hell is going on?" Diaz said, reaching him.  
    "I don't know. Help me get the pilot closer to the shore."
    Donovan and Diaz pulled the pilot further to the side of the river, where grasses overhung the water and gave them somewhere to hide while the battle continued to unfold. The mech had made its way into the water, moving toward the center and submerged to its knees. The first Dread fighter was circling back, coming in for another strafing run.
    "It's wide open out there," Diaz said.
    Donovan didn't respond. She was right. The mech pilot had left the cover of the trees and made the machine a massive target.
    He watched in fascination as the two Dread weapons faced off. The fighter continued its trajectory, heading right at the mech while the mech responded in kind, raising its remaining arm and unleashing a barrage of missiles to go with projectiles and plasma bolts. Firepower met firepower, each machine generating small explosions as the attack caused extensive damage to both. The fighter passed fifty meters over the mech before spinning out of control, veering hard to the left and smashing into the trees. The mech groaned, pushed back by the assault, before flopping backward and slamming into the water.  
    Donovan turned his head away as the resulting wave crashed over them. Once it had passed, everything fell into silence.
    He stared at the carnage upstream, barely able to breathe. His heart thudded in his chest, while his mind worked to make sense of what had just happened. Why had the mech pilot decided to defend them instead of killing them? It didn't make any sense.
    A minute passed. Then another. Everything remained quiet. No other fighters flew over. No other mechs arrived on the scene. It was the closest thing to a miracle Donovan had ever seen.
    "We're still alive, amigo," Diaz said, her face telling him she was as shocked and pleased as he was. "Someone up there is looking out for us."
    "I guess so." He put his hand to the pilot's neck, feeling the steady pulse below his fingers. "For all of us."
    "Not all," Diaz said.  
    Donovan flinched. He shouldn't have said that. "Diaz, you know-"
    "Forget it. I know what you meant. It isn't your fault. We need to head downstream. We may not be alone here for long."
    "Ehri's gone."
    "I know. I'm sorry."
    "You are?"
    "Why not? I know you like her. I'd be an asshole not to care if you lose someone important to you, even if I'm not as fond of them. Or if I'm jealous of them."
    "Jealous?"
    "You know how I feel, D. We don't need to rehash, especially now. We need to get the hell out of here, stay alive and do something with these weapons. We can't count on St. Martin to come back and save us, not when he's got a Dread starship on his ass."
    "The Dread ship didn't leave," Donovan said. It was large enough that they had seen it hanging in a synchronous orbit above the Dread fortress before the trees had blocked their view.
    "Not yet. It will, or it would have come back down."
    "Yeah, you're right. Hopefully, General St. Martin and his son will make it back, but we need to be able to handle ourselves either way." Donovan shifted his grip on the pilot. "Let's head another kilometer or two down the river, and then we can set up a camp for the night. I can barely think straight."
    "Yes, sir," Diaz said, climbing out of the water, and then reaching out.  
    Donovan shifted the pilot's weight, turning him over to Diaz so she could