Too big a handful. The Watersport lunges forward so hard my head snaps back on my neck. I grab the handgrips wildly to keep from getting thrown off, and one finger hits a trigger. The right MG cuts loose with a short burst, chewing the drek out of the other Watersport moored a couple of meters ahead of us, while I feel two metal hands grabbing onto my shoulders in a death-grip. I release the throttle and the thrust fades. "Sorry," I mutter.