Somewhere in the DDF headquarters was a holorecording of the Battle of Alta. And I was going to find it.

37

By the time I reached Alta Base, I had a pretty solid plan. It all revolved around the one person I knew had access to the battle replays.

Cobb’s office was a little thing he kept immaculately clean and sterilized of all personal effects. No pictures on the walls, no books on the shelves.

Today, he sat working at his narrow desk, reading some reports and marking them with a red pencil. He glanced up as I knocked on the window, then turned back to his work.

I slipped the door open.

“FM’s been looking for you,” he said, moving one sheet onto another stack. “I told her I didn’t know where your cave was. But if you want to contact the others, tune to 1250 on your radio. That’s Arturo’s house band.”

“Thanks.” I took a deep breath, going over my carefully planned words. “Sir, I hope I don’t get into trouble for this, but Jorgen and I drove out and fetched Hurl’s pin. For her family.” I stepped forward and set it on the desk. “He called in to ground support and warned them we were driving past.”

Cobb sighed. “Well, I guess it isn’t forbidden.” He picked up the pin. “Did you clear this with salvage?”

“Er, no, sir.”

“That means more paperwork for me,” he said.

“We gave her a pilot’s burial, sir,” I said. “Best we could manage. Will you tell her family for me?”

He tucked the pin away. “They’ll like that, cadet. And I doubt even salvage will complain when I put it to them that way. But do try not to get me into any more trouble this week.”

“I’ll try, sir,” I said, searching for a good way to move on to what I really wanted. Something that wouldn’t raise too much suspicion from Cobb. “I wish I could use my time somehow. This much leave is kind of frustrating.”

“Medical leave can shoot itself into the sun,” Cobb agreed. “I like Thior—she keeps pushing for things like counseling for pilots, good ideas. But she needs to understand that the last thing a bunch of grieving soldiers need is more free time.”

“They won’t let me fly or train, but maybe…” I pretended to give it some thought. “Maybe I could watch old battles? To learn from them?”

“Archive is in building H,” Cobb said, pointing. “They have headsets you can use for viewing the battles. You’ll need my authorization code for the door. Two six four oh seven.”

A dozen different arguments—which I’d prepared to nudge him toward offering this—died on my lips.

That… was easy.

“Um, thanks,” I said, trying not to show how excited I was. “I guess I’ll go, um, do that then.”

“Cadets aren’t supposed to use the archive. If you run into trouble, tell them I sent you to fetch something for me, then get out. I’ll do the paperwork for that, if I have to. Scudding bureaucrats.” Cobb moved a sheet from one stack to the other. “And Spin?”