“You mean like a simulator?”

“Kind of! I can project an augmented-reality hologram right onto your canopy, which will make you think you’re in a combat situation. That way, you can pretend to try to get yourself killed, while I don’t have to disobey my orders!”

“Huh,” I said, curious. Well, at the very least, it would let me test his responsiveness in a simulation. “Let’s do it.”

“Go to eleven thousand feet, and I’ll drop you into the Battle of Alta.”

“But I gave that data case back to Cobb.”

“I made a copy.” He hesitated for a moment. “Was that bad? I thought maybe you’d want to—”

“No, no it’s fine. It’s the only battle you can simulate for me though?”

“It’s the only one where I have proper three-D renderings. Is this a problem? Oh! Your father. This is the battle where your father became a traitor, something to which you are emotionally vulnerable because of your feelings of betrayal and inadequacy! Whoops.”

“It’s fine.”

“I could instead try to—”

“It’s fine.” I said, putting the ship at the altitude he’d stated, using maneuvering thrusters to settle us. “Start the simulation.”

“All right, all right. No need to get grouchy just because I insulted you.”

In a flash I appeared inside a battle.

It was like the simulations, except I was in a real ship. Everything holographic glowed and was slightly transparent, like I was surrounded by ghosts—which had to be so that I could distinguish reality and avoid accidentally flying us into a cliff face or something.

M-Bot said he was merely projecting all this on my canopy, but it looked three-dimensional to me. And the fighting was amazingly realistic, particularly when I hit my booster and launched into it—M-Bot even did his best to generate sounds in the cockpit as ships buzzed past us.

“I can simulate destructors,” M-Bot said, “though you don’t have any installed.”

I grinned, then fell into position with a pair of DDF fighters. When I dove, targeting a Krell ship that someone else IMPed, M-Bot was able to edit the simulation—so my target exploded in a satisfying flash of light.

“All right.” I said. “How do I activate proximity sensors?”

“I can activate them. Done.”

“Convenient. What else can you do by verbal command?”

“I have access to communications and stealth features, and I can reignite the shield for you. By galactic law, however, I am forbidden control of boosters and weapons systems—including the IMP. I have no physical connection to these systems except for diagnostic purposes.”

“All right then,” I said. “Turn on flightleader chatter—let me hear the recordings as if they were happening in real time.”

“Done,” he said, as the radio came on. “Be aware that the audio might not sync with visuals as you interfere with the progress of the battle.”

I nodded, then threw myself into the fight.

And it was magnificent. I banked and shot, IMPed and boosted. I spun through a virtual battlefield full of flashing lights, exploding ships, and desperate fighters. I flew a ship with unparalleled maneuverability, and felt myself adapting to it, taking increasing advantage. I downed four Krell in a half hour—a personal record—without taking anything but a few glancing blows to my shield.