"Sevastopol to Commoner, message."
"Commoner reads you, Sevastopol."
"Engage hostile ground defenses bearing twenty, distance one-fife thousand. Leave the dogfight to the Gladiators."
"A-firm Sevastopol. Engaging now."
Sand tittering away upon the massive metal hull.
Pressurized methane spilling into the engines, igniting, burning bright across the sky.
130 mm round discharged from a D-80 Molot gun battery, striking its target in a display of shredded steel, rust n' dust, fire, and a kaboom.
More g-forces than anyone can handle, being handled by anyone that can.
An unarmored, fast picket corvette screening the main fleet.
Commoner.
Commoner.
"Commoner, reporting for duty."
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