“We’ve talked about it. The Krell.”

“Well, you’ve talked around it. But nobody has explained it to me. You just kind of expect me to know.”

I forced myself to swallow a piece of jerky and wash it down with some water. Then I sighed, holding the radio to my head. “The Krell are aliens.”

“You’re both aliens,” M-Bot noted. “Technically. Since we’re not on your home planet. I think?”

“Either way, they’re trying to destroy us. They are these creatures with strange armor and terrible weapons. Our elders say they destroyed our empire in the stars, almost exterminated us. We might be all that’s left of humanity, and the Krell are determined to end us. They send flights of ships, some with bombs called lifebusters that can penetrate down into the caverns and destroy living things there.”

“Huh,” M-Bot said. “Why don’t they bombard you from orbit?”

“What?”

“Not that I’d know anything about things like that,” he added. “Being a noncombat machine. Obviously.”

“You have four guns.”

“Someone must have stuck those on when I wasn’t looking.”

I sighed. “If you’re asking why they don’t launch the lifebusters from up high, this planet is surrounded by an ancient defense system. Standard Krell strategy is to fly past that, then swarm in and try to overwhelm our fighters, or sneak in a low strike team. If they either destroy our AA guns or get a bomber in under them, they can eliminate our ability to make new fighters. Then we’re done for. The only thing standing between humankind and annihilation is the DDF.” I slumped in my seat.

Which means. I thought to myself, I should get over my petty squabbles and focus on flying.

What was it my father had told me?

Their heads are heads of rock, their hearts set upon rock. Set your sights on something higher…

“M-Bot?” I asked. “Do you remember anything about human civilization? Before the Krell? Do you know what it was like?”

“My memory banks on such matters are almost entirely corrupted.”

I sighed, disappointed, and stuffed away my rations, preparing to walk home. But I couldn’t do it. Not while feeling like I was standing with a gun to my head. I wasn’t going to go cower in my cave, waiting to be called in to report for discipline.

I had to face this head-on and take my punishment.

Throwing my pack over my shoulder, I stalked back to the front of Alta Base and passed the checkpoint. I took the long way around flight school—the path past the mess hall and launchpad—to get one last glance at my Poco.

I passed the silent line of ships, watched over by the ever-diligent ground crews. To my left, I spotted my flight sitting together in the mess hall, eating dinner and laughing. Jorgen wasn’t there, but he usually didn’t eat with the common rank and file. Besides, he’d probably gone straight to the admiral to report what I’d done to him.