My control sphere was rattling, threatening to go out. Exactly like Dorgo had warned.

“You have one minute until that bomber reaches the death zone, Skyward Ten,” Ironsides said softly.

I didn’t respond, fighting to keep ahead of the swarming enemies.

“If it gets past the zone,” Ironsides said, “you have full authorization to shoot it down anyway. Do you confirm, pilot?”

Lifebusters were rigged to blow if they were shot or if they hit the ground. So if I dropped that bomber once it got too close, the blast would destroy Alta, but protect Igneous.

“Confirmed,” I said, swinging around.

No weapons.

I could hear the rushing air almost as if the canopy were gone. My nose was still on fire.

Under a minute.

I gained altitude, then turned into a dive, Krell ships still swarming behind.

That bomber’s shield has to be almost out.

I pointed my nose right at the bomber down below, then I hit the overburn.

“Cadet?” Ironsides said. “Pilot, what are you doing?”

“My weapons are gone,” I hissed through clenched teeth. “I have to ram it.”

“Understood,” Ironsides whispered. “Saints’ own speed, pilot.”

“What?” Jorgen said over the line. “What? Ram it? Spin!”

I dove toward the enemy bomber.

“Spin,” Jorgen said, voice barely audible over the blaring warnings and the roar of the air around my cockpit. “Spin, you’ll die.”

“Yes,” I whispered. “But I’ll win anyway.”

I streaked right toward the ship amid a column of enemy fire. Then—at long last, pushed too far—my poor, broken ship had had enough.

The acclivity ring cut out.

My ship pulled into an unexpected dive, and I undershot the bomber, missing it. Pummeled by the winds—and no longer held up by the acclivity ring—my ship started spinning out of control.

Everything became a blur of smoke and fire.

51

You weren’t supposed to be able to think during those moments. It was all supposed to happen in a flash.

My hand moved by instinct toward the eject lever between my legs. My ship was in an uncontrolled spin with no altitude control. I was going to crash.

I froze.

Nobody else was close enough. Without me to stop them, the Krell would fly on unimpeded to destroy Igneous.

If I crashed, that was it.

I slammed my hand back onto the throttle. With my other hand I flipped off my atmospheric scoop, releasing my ship entirely to the whims of the air. Then I rammed the throttle forward, going into overburn.

In the old days, this was how ships had flown. I needed old-fashioned lift, and that came from speed.

My ship shook an insane amount, but I leaned into my control sphere, righting my spiral.

Come on, come on!

I felt it working. I fought the control flaps on the wings, and felt the g-forces lessen as my ship started to level out. I could do it. I—

I skidded against the ground.

The GravCaps redlined immediately, protecting me from the brunt of the impact. But unfortunately, I hadn’t regained control fast enough, and the ship hadn’t gained quite enough lift.