Ramirez vs buckshot

“Carlos, shield me,” I said. “I’m not going to have anything to spare.”
Without a word, Ramirez lifted his left hand and the air in front of me quivered with a pale greenish disk of light that rippled like water. It wasn’t more than a second before enemy fire struck it on one side, evidently with shot from the octokong weapons. The ball hit Ramirez’s shield and in the act of passing through, it was ripped into a fine spray of metallic grit.
The Jotnar closed to two hundred yards.

Battle Ground Chapter 15, Page 143