Page 37 of Rogue Starfighter

I thought of her moving before the corridor opened. Of her steady hands. Of the way she had listened when I told her about Tavik and refused to treat me like a broken thing.

“She is qualified,” I said. “More than qualified.”

Priya’s head turned. Wroxxon scoffed. “You would say anything to keep your new bondmate close.”

“No,” I said. “I would say anything necessary to keep her alive. Today, that means putting her in the pilot’s seat.”

Aryk shut down the display. “Then it is decided. You launch at dawn.”

General Jennix nodded. "Stay alert and stay safe out there."

The specialists began transferring mission files to our implants. Priya was quiet, reading through the data as quickly as it appeared. Under the table, her hand found mine. I turned my palm up. Her fingers slid between mine and held. At dawn, we would take the Wraith into the heart of Xandraxian space. I could not promise myself I would not lose her. I could only trust her to fly the Wraith and get us both home. She was the better pilot. Just like Tavik had been.

My chest ached. I swallowed the lump in my throat and focused on Wroxxon slipping out of the room like a ghost. How was I supposed to feel? For the first time in six years, I would not be flying alone. For the first time since my brother's death, I had something to lose.

6

Priya, Sim Bay, Night Before the Mission

We ran the final practice sim the night before the mission, and I flew it perfectly. Vesh disagreed.

“Missile lock,” he warned.

“I see it.” Duh. My sensors and screens had red streaks all over the place.

“Then evade.”

“Not yet.”

“Priya.”

There were seven Scythe fighters on the tactical display. One in front of us, hidden behind the chunk of simulated moon rock drifting off my right wing. Six pursuing us from behind,. The asshole in front had fired at us. He—I assumed it was a he, but what did I know? Could be a purple slug wearing a helmet--he had the missile lock. The six behind us were waiting for me to react to the attack. I held the Wraith on course. The warning tone climbed higher.

“You have twelve seconds,” Vesh said.

“Plenty of time.”

“That is an insane statement.”

“Five seconds is plenty of time. Ten is practically a vacation.”

“Priya—”

I rolled. The missile shot beneath us, missed the Wraith by less than a meter, and hit the lead Scythe behind us dead center. The simulation flashed white as it exploded. I pulled hard to port, used the explosion to blind the next two ships, and drove straight through the wreckage. Flew right past them going in the opposite direction.

Vesh swore in Velerion. The implant gave me a highly specific translation involving my ancestry, several farm animals, and an anatomical impossibility.

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” I laughed.

“Fly the ship.”

“I’m flying. You’re the one yelling.”

“I am not yelling. Break right.”

I broke left. Laser fire cut through the space we’d occupied half a second earlier.

“Why are we alive?” Vesh seemed shocked.