Cobb backed away and I settled my hands on the controls, breathing in and out, feeling…

Calm.

Yes, calm. That feeling reminded me of how, on that first day in flight school, I’d felt strangely at peace when going into battle. I’d been impressed by how not afraid I was.

It had been ignorance then. Bravado. I’d assumed I knew what it was to be a pilot. I’d assumed I could handle it.

This peace was similar, yet at the same time opposite. It was the peace of experience and understanding. As we rose into the air, I found a different kind of confidence rising inside me. Not born of stories I told myself, or of a forced sense of heroism.

I knew.

When I’d been shot down the first time, I’d ejected because there had been no point in dying with my ship. But when it had mattered—when it had been vital that I attempt to protect my ship with even the slightest chance of success—I’d stayed in the cockpit and tried to keep my ship in the air.

My confidence was that of a person who knew. Nobody could ever again convince me I was a coward. It didn’t matter what anyone said, anyone thought, or anyone claimed.

I knew what I was.

“Are you ready?” M-Bot said.

“For the first time ever, I think I am. Give me all the speed you can. Oh, and turn off your stealth devices.”

“Really?” he said. “Why?”

“Because,” I said, leaning into the throttle, “I want them to see this coming.”

52

Judy “Ironsides” Ivans watched as the Krell force pushed ever closer to Alta.

Radio chatter filled the command room, but it wasn’t the usual battle chatter. Powerful families radioed in, announcing that they were escaping in their own ships. Cowards, every one. Deep down, Judy had known how this would play out, but it still broke her heart.

Rikolfr stepped up to her, bearing reports. He was the only other one who was still watching the holoprojector. Everyone else was in chaos as operators and junior admirals called frantic alarms to those in Igneous, ordering emergency evacuation.

For all the good it would do.

“How long until the bomber reaches Alta?” Judy asked.

“Under five minutes,” Rikolfr said. “Do we evacuate the command center down to one of the deep caverns? They might be safe enough.”

She shook her head.

Rikolfr swallowed, but kept talking. “The last line of emergency gun emplacements has radioed in. The Krell fighters are flying in close, engaging them. Three are down, the other three taking heavy fire.”

There were always supposed to be fighters to help the gun emplacements. Judy nodded toward the three small red blips on the hologram, flying out to engage the enemy. Stolen fighters, she now knew. Patriots, truly Defiant.

“Put me through to those fighters,” she said, then activated her headset and spoke. “Skyward Flight?”

“Here, sir,” said callsign: Amphi. That was Valda’s son. What was his name? Arturo? “Pilot,” she said, “you have to shoot down that bomb. In under five minutes, it will be in position to destroy Igneous. Do you understand? I authorize destroying that bomb with all prejudice.”