It can’t keep diving. I thought. We’re approaching the ground.
I gritted my teeth, then lanced the chunk of debris right as my target cut to the side and flew back up. I swung all the way around the debris, then reengaged my acclivity ring and hit my overburn again. The maneuver made me swoop in a complete circle and dart upward, right past the Krell ship.
I blasted my IMP, then the flashing line on the canopy went full red.
“Ha!” I said over the group line. “Your children will weep tonight, you holographic Krell bastard!”
“Seriously, Spin?” FM said. “You’re saying that ironically, right?”
“Irony is a coward’s weapon!” I said. “Like poison. Or the destructors on Jerkface’s ship.”
“Wouldn’t a coward use, like, a really big bomb?” FM said. “Something you could launch from far away? Seems like you’d need to get close for poison.”
“As our resident expert,” Nedd said, “I’d like to point out that the true coward’s weapon is a comfortable couch and a stack of mildly amusing novels.”
“You’re still dead, Spin,” Jerkface said, flying his ship down near mine. “You redlined, possibly causing permanent retinal damage. If this were a real battle, you’d undoubtedly be incapacitated—and your ship would be unshielded. You’d be dead in moments thanks to that Krell tailing you.”
“Doesn’t matter,” I said, amused at how offended he sounded. Was he really that threatened by my aptitude? “My task was to take down my target’s shields, which I did. My tail is irrelevant; Cobb’s orders were to IMP that target.”
“You can’t keep cheating the simulation,” Jerkface said. “You’re going to be useless on the battlefield.”
“I’m not cheating anything. I’m winning.”
“Whatever,” he said. “At least you didn’t slam your ship into mine this time. Stars help the person who gets between Spin and her attempts to look good in front of everyone.”
“What?” I said, growing annoyed at him. “You—”
“Enough chitchat,” Cobb said. “Spin, that was some good flying—but Jorgen is right. You ultimately failed by getting yourself killed.”
“Told you,” Jerkface said.
“But—” I said.
“If you’ve got time to argue,” Cobb interrupted, “I’m obviously not working you hard enough. The lot of you, run yourselves through three sets of gamma-M formation exercises before dinner. Jorgen, make sure it happens.”
“Wait,” Kimmalyn said. “You’re leaving?”
“Of course I am,” Cobb said. “I’m not going to go to dinner late. Cobb out.”
“Great,” Hurl said. “Thanks for nothing, Spin.”
Wait, she couldn’t possibly blame me for this extra work instead of Jerkface, could she? Jerkface organized us into a gamma-M formation, a type of monotonous flying exercise. It only took us about ten minutes, but I spent the entire time stewing, growing more and more frustrated. I even ignored M-Bot as he tried to talk to me.
Once it was done, I pulled off my helmet, ignoring Jerkface’s call for a lineup and vocal sound off. I just . . . I needed a break. A moment to myself. I wiped the sweat from my face, pushing back the hair that had been plastered to my forehead by the helmet.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
My holographic cockpit vanished.
“What are you doing?” Jerkface demanded, standing beside my seat. “Do you have your helmet off? I called lineup!”
“I just need a minute, okay? Leave me alone.”
“You’re disobeying orders!”
Oh, scud. I couldn’t deal with him right now. I was embarrassed, exhausted, and increasingly angry. It had been a long training session.
“Well?” Jerkface said, looming over me. Nearby, the others disengaged their holograms and stood up, stretching.
My face grew cold. And I started to feel myself losing control.
Calm, Spensa. You can be calm. I forced down the anger and stood up. I needed to get out of the room.
“What do you have to say?” Jerkface demanded. “Why do you keep denying my authority?”
“What authority?” I snapped, grabbing my pack and walking toward the doorway.
“Running away?” Jerkface said. “How appropriate.”
I stopped in place.
“I guess we should expect insubordination from the daughter of Zeen Nightshade,” he said. “Your family doesn’t exactly have a pedigree for obeying orders, does it?”
Coldness in my face. Heat burning deep within.
That’s it.
I turned around slowly, then walked back to Jerkface and quietly dropped my pack.
He looked down on me, sneering. “You—”
I dropped to one knee, then slammed my fist into his knee. He gasped, and when he buckled over in pain, I pushed upward and rammed my elbow into his gut. The way he grunted felt good. stoking something primal inside me.
My elbow knocked the breath out of him, preventing him from shouting out. So, while he was stunned, I hooked my ankle around his and sent him slamming backward to the floor.
He was bigger than I was. If he recovered, he’d overpower me, so I leaped on top of him and raised my fist, preparing to slam it down into his stupid face.
There I stopped, trembling. Furious. But somehow also cold and calm, like I got when fighting the Krell. Like I was both absolutely in control, but somehow utterly out of control.
Jerkface stared up at me, frozen, seeming completely stunned. That stupid face of his. That sneer. That was how they all talked about me. That was how they all thought of me!
“Whoa!” Nedd said. “Holy scud!”
I knelt there on top of Jerkface, trembling, with my hand raised.
“Really, wow!” Nedd said, kneeling down beside us. “Spin, that was incredible. Can you teach me that?”
I glanced at him.
“We don’t learn hand-to-hand,” he said, making some chopping motions. “Cobb says it’s useless, but what if a Krell tries to—you know—jump me in an alley or something?”
“Nobody has ever seen a Krell alive, you idiot,” Hurl said.
“Yeah, but what if that’s because—like—they always jump people in alleys. right? You ever think about that?”
I looked down at Jerkface. I could suddenly hear myself breathing in quick gasps.
“Spin,” Nedd said. “It’s okay. You were just showing us some hand-to-hand moves, right? How did you do that trip? You’re, like, half as tall as Jorgen is.”
Calm. Breathe.
“Half as tall?” Arturo said. “Might I point out that would make her less than a meter tall? Your math is suspect.”
I pulled back from Jerkface, who let out a breath and went limp. FM looked horrified, though Nedd flashed me a thumbs-up. Arturo was shaking his head. Kimmalyn stood with her hand to her mouth, while Hurl—I couldn’t read Hurl. She had her arms crossed, and she studied me, thoughtful.
Jorgen stumbled to his feet, holding his stomach. “She struck a superior. She assaulted another member of her flight!”
“She went a little overboard, yeah,” Nedd said. “But, I mean, you asked for it, Jorgen. No permanent damage, right? Can’t we just forget about it?”