I expected a chuckle, but Hurl seemed serious when she said, “Twelve/nine? That doesn’t sound like so many.”

“Considering that most Krell incursion forces are around thirty ships?”

“There are seventy-five today,” Hurl said. “Easy pickings, if the DDF would let us actually fight.” She inched her Poco forward with maneuvering thrusters, and I followed.

“Where do you two think you’re going?” Jorgen asked.

“Just trying to get a better view of the battlefield,” I said.

“Yeah, belay that. Back into formation. Our orders are to hold position.”

We obeyed, but I found myself itching to get on with the battle. Sitting and waiting there, my fatigue kept bringing itself to my attention.

“Let’s call Cobb,” I said. “See if maybe we should send a pair of fighters out to scout the area.”

“I’m sure they have scouts working the field,” Jorgen said. “Hold position, Spin.”

“Hey, Arturo,” FM said over the line. “How far away is the main battle, do you suppose?”

“You’re asking me?” he replied.

“You’re the smart one.”

There was silence on the line for a moment.

“Well?” FM asked.

“Oh,” Arturo said. “Sorry. I was just… well, waiting for Nedd to make a wisecrack. I guess that’s still my instinct. Here, I can calculate the distance for you exactly.” A light flashed on our comm console. “Hey, Cobb. How far away is that fight?”

“About fifty klicks,” Cobb said. “Stay put, cadets. Victory Flight is almost up from the caverns, and they’ll relieve you once they come in.” His light flipped off.

“Great calculations there, Amphi,” FM said to Arturo.

“I consider it a mark of true intelligence to realize when someone else has already done your work for you,” he said. “That would make a good saying, right, Quirk? Will you use that one sometime?”

“Uh… bless your stars.”

“This isn’t fair,” Hurl said. “We should be fighting. We’re hardly cadets anymore, and I’m tired of simulations. Right, Spin?”

Off in the distance, flashes of light marked where men and women were dying. Losing friends, like I had.

I hated that this creeping, insidious worry had somehow infiltrated my heart. This hesitance, this fear. It was stronger today, probably because I was tired. Maybe if I could get out into the fight, I could prove myself… to myself.

“Yeah, Hurl’s right,” I answered. “We should be killing Krell, not killing time.”

“We do as we’re ordered.” Jorgen said. “And we don’t debate with our commanders. I find it remarkable how you can claim to hardly be cadets anymore, when you have yet to grasp something so fundamental as command structure.”

I bit my lip, then felt my face go warm with embarrassment. He was right. Stupid Jerkface.

I forced myself to wait for our replacements. They’d be one of the reserve flights, hangared—starfighters and all—down in the deep caverns. It was a careful balance; we couldn’t risk a blast wiping out the entire DDF by destroying Alta. But any ships we didn’t keep on immediate call took time to retrieve via the vehicle elevators.