Page 29 of Rogue Starfighter

“Six years.”

The first personal fact he had volunteered. I held on to it. “And you still love it?”

“Every flight.”

“Good. I was worried this might get boring.”

“If a reconnaissance mission becomes boring, you are most likely about to die.”

I burst into laughter. I couldn't help it. He was funny. “You really do know how to ruin a moment.”

“Another useful skill.”

He entered coordinates for a nearby training field. A map appeared on my display, showing a dense ring of wreckage and small asteroids. I recognized it.

“That’s the final corridor from the game.”

“The simulation was built from this field.”

“I died here fifty-six times.”

“I know.”

“Right. You watched.”

“Repeatedly.”

My cheeks warmed again. I couldn't believe he had listened to every conversation I'd had with my friends. “For the record, we are never discussing the ass-biting conversation.”

“You brought it up.”

“And now I’m ending it.”

“Fly the corridor.”

The field grew larger in the viewport. Wreckage rotated between tumbling rocks. The game had reproduced it well, but a screen could not capture the size. Some of the broken ship sections were larger than apartment buildings.

“Are the mines active?”

“No weapons. No explosives. The danger is entirely physical.”

“Reassuring.”

“If you strike the wreckage at speed, we will still die.”

“There it is. I knew reassurance couldn’t last.”

I guided the Wraith toward the wide central lane. The safe route. Then I noticed a smaller opening forming along the left edge. Two slabs of wreckage rotated in opposite directions. The space between them was too narrow now. It would not be in four seconds. I knew that without checking the instruments.

“Priya,” Vesh said.

“I see it.”

“The central route is clear.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you turning left?”