Lights continued to flash in the distance, and I found myself itching to grab the throttle, engage overburn, and send my ship blasting toward it. Pilots were fighting, maybe dying, while I just sat here? What kind of warrior was I?

The kind that crashed into the mess hall the first time she turned on her engines. I thought. Still, I watched those lights, tried to imagine the battle, and squinted to try to catch a glimpse of a Krell ship.

I was still shocked when I saw one streaking toward us.

I’d seen hundreds of depictions of their ships in art. Small, bulbous, it had a strangely unfinished look—with wires trailing behind like tails. It had a small, opaque black cockpit. Most Krell ships exploded completely when damaged or when they crashed, but in some few, we’d recovered burned-out remnants of the wicked armor they wore. Never an actual Krell though.

“Jerkface!” I said.

“Don’t call me—”

“Jorgen! Flightleader! Whatever! Look at your eleven, down about two hundred feet. You see that?”

He cursed softly.

Hurl said, “All right! The game is on!”

“It’s not a game, Hurl,” Jerkface said. “Instructor Cobb?”

“Here. What is it?”

“Krell ship, sir. It looks like it flew low, under AA gun range, and is heading for Alta.”

Cobb didn’t respond immediately. I sat, sweating, hands on my controls, trailing that ship with my eyes.

“Flight Command knows about it,” Cobb reported back. “Your replacements are climbing into their ships now. They should get here soon.”

“And if they’re not fast enough?” I asked. “What if that ship has a lifebuster?”

“Flight Command has visual ID on it, Spin,” Cobb said. “The ship isn’t a bomber. A single ship can’t do that much damage.”

“Respectfully, sir, I disagree,” Jorgen said. “While the base is shielded, it could fire on the farmers with destructors, kill dozens before it’s—”

“I know the capabilities of the damn Krell, boy. Thank you.” Cobb took a deep breath. “It’s close?”

“Yes, sir. Getting closer.”

Silence over the line, then finally, “You may engage. But stay on the defensive. No grandstanding, cadet. I want you to distract it until the reinforcements get into the air.”

I nodded, nervous sweat slicking the sides of my head, inside my helmet. I got ready to fly.

“I’m on it, sir!” Jerkface said. “Nedder, you’re my wingmate!”

“Roger, Jorg,” Nedd said.

Two ships broke out of our line. And before I knew it, I had grabbed my throttle and zipped after them.

“Spin,” Jerkface said. “Back into line!”

“You need me,” I said. “The more of us there are, the more likely we’ll be to scare the thing off and back toward the real fighters!”

“And she’ll need a wingmate,” Hurl said, pushing out of line and tailing me.

“No, no!” Jerkface said. “Everyone else should stay in line!”

“Take her,” Cobb said. “Hurl and Spin, you’re with the flight-leader and his wingmate. But the rest of you hold position. I don’t want you slamming into each other up there.”