Issac's fighter jerk violently as the proton rounds struck his left wing. The klaxons which had been going off since his arrival in the system intensified once again, accompanied by warnings from a calm, feminine voice. The calm voice, however, did not have any effect on the status of Issac's mindset.
“The fanatic who pushes himself beyond his limits.” Issac struggled to enunciate clearly, as he fought with the controls to stabilize his fighter and stay in his seat at the same time. The fighter continued to whiplash dangerously, and it was only when he cut the power that Issac managed to stabilized the fighter once again. He sectioned off the damaged components of his left wing. Issac watched as the fires that had ignited earlier dissipated and he used short bursts with his thrusters to right himself again. Above him, the enemy vessel wobbled and Issac could feel panic rolling off it in waves. This was something that was not there before, and whatever maneuver the enemy had pulled made that possible.
“The body cries and asks what it has done to itself,” Issac added, gently turning the nose to align his remaining weapons' systems with the unstable enemy vessel. The vessel had focused its attention on another ship. Issac activated the targeting computer and a lock was achieved not a moment later. “And the mind looks back, grief-stricken and horrified that it has failed.”
Issac fired his own torpedoes and they streamed through empty space toward the enemy vessel. They were like predators, and they hungrily closed the gap.