“And it’s generally considered bad form for humans to speak of one who is present as if they are not.”

“I can’t make you out, M-Bot,” Rig said, sitting up. “You say you don’t care about things like that, right?”

“Obviously I don’t. I’m a logical machine with only a thin veneer of simulated emotions.”

“Okay,” Rig said. “That makes sense.”

“It’s still rude,” M-Bot added.

I looked to Rig, then gestured toward the cockpit. “So, we have a magical talking starship with mysterious technology. Do you wanna help me fix it?”

“On our own?” Rig asked. “Why?”

“So we can keep it. And fly it.”

“You’re in the DDF now, Spin! You don’t need an outdated, broken-down ship.”

“Still here,” M-Bot noted. “Just saying.”

I leaned forward. “Rig, I’m not in the DDF. I’m in Cobb’s class.”

“So? You’ll graduate. I don’t care how few people he passes—you’ll be one of them.”

“And then?” I asked, feeling cold—expressing a fear that I’d never voiced, but one that had haunted me since that first day. “Cobb says he can let anyone he wants into his class. But if I pass? His authority ends there, Rig.”

Rig looked down at the wrench in his hand.

“I’m worried that the admiral will deny me a ship,” I said. “Worried she’ll find some petty reason to kick me out, once Cobb can’t protect me anymore. Worried I’ll lose it, Rig. The sky.” I looked toward the ship, glowing with lights along its side. “This is old, yes, but it’s also my freedom.”

He still looked skeptical.

“Think about how fun it would be,” I said. “Poking around inside an ancient ship. Think of what mysteries we could discover! Maybe M-Bot is all outdated technology, but maybe not. Won’t it be fun to at least try to fix him on our own? If it doesn’t work out, we can always turn him in later.”

“Fine,” Rig said. “All right, stop giving me the hard sell. I’ll try, Spin.”

I grinned at him.

Rig looked at the ship. “I worry this is beyond what we can do. Those boosters are ruined. We can’t just weld something like that back together. I’m sure there will be other parts that will need to be replaced, or fixed using tools we don’t have.” He thought for a moment. “Though…”

“What?” I asked.

“One of my job offers,” he said. “It’s from the elite Engineering Corps, the people who oversee repairing the starfighters—and the people who develop new designs. They’ve got the best labs, the best equipment…”

I nodded, eager. “That sounds perfect.”

“I was thinking of taking their offer anyway,” he said. “They told me I could come in these next two months, intern with them, learn my way around the shops… They were very impressed with my test scores, and with my understanding of schematics and advanced engineering.”

“Rig. That. Is. Awesome.”

“I’m not promising anything,” he said. “But, well, maybe if I bring them the right questions, I can get them to show me how to fix certain pieces of M-Bot. I’ll have to do it without making them suspicious. Regardless, we’ll still need spare parts. At least one full-size booster.”