Page 36 of Rogue Starfighter

Priya leaned forward. All humor vanished. “That’s a lot of ships.”

“More than they should have.” Jennix had her black hair pulled back so tightly the silver at her temples looked like uniform stripes. “The Dark Fleet withdrew its support after we won the battle over Velerion. Our intelligence predicted her remaining shipyards would be crippled within months. Instead, production increased.”

The display narrowed to a moon orbiting the planet.

“The Wraith will enter here,” Aryk said. “You will remain in the moon’s shadow under ghost protocol. Passive sensors only. Count active yards, record hull construction, identify supply traffic if possible, and leave without being detected.”

“How long will we be in the shadow?” Priya asked.

“Four to six hours.”

“Escape routes?” I asked.

Two corridors appeared.

“Primary and secondary,” Aryk said. “Both are officially blind.”

My stomach tightened at the word. Priya glanced at me, then back to the display. “You haven't been able to get anyone in there? Not even a drone?”

Jennix answered. “No. However, the lanes have had zero traffic for eighteen months.”

Priya tilted her head and studied the holograms. “And if they’re not empty? They could be full of booby traps or automated weapons systems? Satellites? So, we have no idea what's going to be waiting for us in there?”

“No, we do not. If we run into trouble, we get the hell out of there,” I assured her. “The Wraith is not built to survive a fight against battle cruisers or fighters.”

Wroxxon pushed away from the wall. “This is absurd. We’re staking a deep-penetration mission on a recruit who arrived four days ago and has flown the Wraith once.”

“She has more simulation hours in the Wraith than anyone else in this room,” Aryk said.

“With zero pressure. She thought she was playing a game. This is life or death.”

“She flew the debris corridor this morning. She knew it was dangerous. I told her,” I said.

“Which proves she is reckless. A quality you appear to admire in your partners.” Wroxxon looked directly at her. “Did he tell you what happened to the last scout who trusted him? Ask him about Tavik before you let him fly you into Xandraxian space.”

“He already did,” Priya said.

Wroxxon blinked. “And?”

Her voice changed. Calm. Precise. I recognized her tone from watching her in sims. This was warrior Priya, and Wroxxon had just pissed off the wrong female. “And I know Tavik died saving Vesh after your intelligence sent them into an ambush. I know Vesh brought him home. I also know you’ve spent six years blaming Vesh because it’s easier than admitting you failed them.”

I'd never seen Wroxxon go pale. He did now. “You know nothing about it.”

“I know enough to recognize an asshole when I see one.”

General Jennix coughed into her fist. Wroxxon’s face darkened with rage. “General⁠—”

“Starfighter Anand,” Aryk said mildly, “you will address Captain Wroxxon with professional respect.”

“Yes, General.”

“Captain Wroxxon, you will extend the same respect to my Elite Starfighters.”

“She is not qualified for the title.”

Aryk turned to me. “Lieutenant? Is she ready to fly?” This was the question I had refused to answer in the Wraith. Was she ready? Was I prepared to place my life in her hands out there on a mission?

Priya did not look at me. Her gaze remained on Wroxxon, her shoulders squared. She would go if I said yes. She would fight me if I said no. I could ask Aryk for more time to train, to fly together, and no one in the room would call it unreasonable.