“A trained Marine doesn’t go around stabbing guys just because they broke their nose. That would be a disproportionate use of force. You pull a stunt like that in the UMC, and you’ll be lucky to get court-martialed. And that’s if you don’t get yourself or your team killed. Losing your temper is a cop-out. A cheap cop-out. You don’t get to lose your temper. Not when lives are on the line. Violence is a tool. Nothing more, nothing less. And its use should be as carefully calibrated as … as the cuts of a surgeon’s scalpel.”

Kira raised an eyebrow. “You sound more like a philosopher than a fighter.”

“What, you think all jarheads are stupid?” Sparrow chuckled before going serious again. “All good soldiers are philosophers, same as a priest or a professor. You have to be when you deal with matters of life and death.”

“Did you see any action when you were in the service?”

“Oh yeah.” She eyed Kira. “You think the galaxy is a peaceful place, and it is, for the most part. Ignoring the Jellies, your odds of getting hurt or killed in a violent encounter are lower now than at any other time in history. And yet more people are actually fighting—fighting and dying—than ever before. You know why?”

“Because there are more people alive now,” said Kira.

“Bingo. The percentages have gotten lower, but the overall numbers keep going up.” Sparrow shrugged. “So yeah. We saw a lot of action.”

Kira took her first sip of chell. It was rich and warm, with a spicy aftertaste like cinnamon. Her belly was hurting again, and she rubbed it without thinking. “Alright. But I still don’t see how you can help me control the suit.”

“I probably can’t. But I might be able to help you control yourself, and that’s the next best thing.”

“We don’t have a lot of time.”

Sparrow thumped herself on the chest. “I don’t. But you’re going to have a whole hell of a lot of time while the rest of us are stuck in cryo.”

“And I’m going to spend most of it sleeping.”

“Most, not all.” Sparrow flashed a quick grin. “That gives you a real opportunity, Navárez. You can practice. You can better yourself. And ain’t that what we all want? To be the best we can be?”

Kira gave her a skeptical look. “That sounds like a recruitment slogan.”

“Yeah well, maybe it is,” said Sparrow. “So sue me.” She gingerly swung her legs over the edge of the exam table and slid down to the floor.

“You need help?”

Sparrow shook her head and, with a wince, straightened her posture. “I can manage. Thanks.” She picked up a crutch next to the bed. “So have I recruited you or not?”

“I don’t think I have much of a choice, but—”

“Sure you do.”

“But yes, I’m willing to give it a shot.”

“Outstanding,” said Sparrow. “That’s what I wanted to hear!” And she swung forward on her crutch and headed out of sickbay. “This way!”