Defiant (The Skyward Series Book 4)

I fell to my knees, suddenly deflated. It felt as though all of my strength, intensity, and even anger had been sucked out of my body. I had been full of so many emotions for so long that coming down from them now felt enervating.

What…what had I expected? That Brade would leave a ship behind? Besides, all of the ships that had been in here had remote control functions that let her take them over, as she’d demonstrated before our “duel” earlier.

Doomslug fluted mournfully.

Spensa? a very quiet voice in my head said.

“I arrived in a small ship,” Hesho said. “Though it fit only a kitsen, my poor ship is not in flying shape any longer. Those manning this station did not make my approach easy. I am sorry.”

Spensa? It’s me. Your ghost.

I nodded dully. I had been so certain it would come down to a duel between me and Brade. One final flight. One final time in the sky. What now? Could anyone else help the slugs of Evensong? Could I reach them through that delver’s influence?

M-Bot, I thought to him. I’m inhibited here, and I can’t leave. Can you reach Jorgen?

I could, he thought. But I’m thinking…everyone else is helping. I want to help too.

Talk to Jorgen, I sent. Tell him that Brade is flying for Evensong, and we need to stop her. Somehow.

We should chase her down, he said. Together.

I’m sorry, I said—mentally, emotionally, physically exhausted. I never finished building your new body.

And I love you for trying, he said. Though to be honest, I don’t think that shell would have worked. I can’t be housed in a black box like that again. I’m so much more now.

He was probably right. I felt sick. Even that was a failure.

No, not a failure, he said. It showed me something. Set me thinking. You know what happens to delvers when they come into the somewhere?

The air warped in front of me. Dust burst from a hole in space, like smoke shrouding something growing out of the nowhere. A delver…

No, M-Bot.

“They form a body for themselves!” I said.

Not just a body, he said. A body in the shape they know. Of what used to house them. Of…

The dust settled onto a shining black ship, vaguely W-shaped. With enormous boosters and a full complement of destructors. His ship. His old ship, but made new. Fitting his growth and what he’d become.

Oh, stars and Saints.

“Hi!” he said through a speaker on the front. “I’ve been resurrected! Do I start a religion now, or do I wait for you to do it for me? That part has always confused me.”

“M-Bot!” I said, climbing to my feet. “You…I can’t believe…”

“I have decided that I like being a spaceship,” he said. “Having a body is nice. Thank you for giving me the idea. Anyway, are we going to…?”

Right. Right!

I leaped up, Doomslug in hand, and climbed into the waiting cockpit. Hesho flew down, and found—with an “ooo”—that M-Bot had made him a battle station with copilot controls. Doomslug had her own cushioned box. I helped her inside, then strapped in, and the canopy closed over me.

Finally, I put my hands on the controls. So familiar. So inviting. Not the ship I’d repaired in that cavern, but somehow still the same. If not better.

“I’m okay flying you?” I said to M-Bot.

“Please,” he said. “You’ve seen my attempts. You can be my chauffeur, mortal. That will leave me to the contemplation of various more important things, such as the nature of mushrooms.”

“A cold skin of dusk,” Hesho said solemnly, “yet thriving and beautiful, as only life knows.”

“Yes,” M-Bot said. “What he said.”

I grinned, then spun the ship using maneuvering thrusters so I didn’t hurt any of the officials hiding behind the bins, before blasting out into space. It felt so good. But scud, there was a delver hovering just overhead.

Chet? I sent.

I have persuaded my associate, he replied, to sit back, watch, and see. Since you no longer are bonded to me, she is not as frightened of you as she once was. But be careful, her inhibitor field is up. It seems not all of our kind are going to be as accommodating as we’d like. So far, she is the only one actively working against you. But you have given us a sense of individuality, and…well, they’re using it.

No problem. Because while Brade had a huge lead on me, I wasn’t in just any ship.

I was in M-Bot.

I pushed on his overburn and we exploded across the battlefield. Hesho helpfully called up a proximity overlay on the monitor, and showed me how to avoid those giant worm things. I skimmed along one of the monsters, angling toward Brade, and was past it before it had time to so much as look at me.

By M-Bot’s estimations, unfortunately, I would reach Brade just a little too late.

So I called her. Rather, I had M-Bot hack her comm so she would take my call even if she didn’t want to.

“Hello, Brade,” I said.

I was pleased to see her ship waver, jogging to the side, as if she expected that I’d be shooting soon after talking. That earned me a few seconds.

“You still want that duel?” I asked.

“You know I do,” she said, her voice tense.

“Great. Because you’re going to get it. You see me?”

She cursed softly, perhaps noting the velocity at which I was closing in. She didn’t have an advanced AI—or, well, delver—to calculate the difference in our speeds for her. She would just eyeball it, and had to be thinking that I would reach her soon. Flying straight when someone was coming up on your tail was deadly to a starfighter…

She broke off, going on the defensive.

“Fine,” she said. “Let’s do this.”

I slowed as I got closer. Acceleration was vital, but so was maneuverability, and you needed to balance the two. As I drew near, she came screaming back toward me.

Around us, delvers the size of battleships emerged in the void, sending out more drones—copies of M-Bot when he’d been housed in a little cleaning drone—to rescue taynix. Jorgen’s coalition ships began to appear near the installation we’d just left.

But I was only here for one fight. I needed this. I had to prove that I could win.

As soon as that thought crossed my mind though, a part of me chuckled. Why in the Saint’s name would I need to prove anything, after all I’d been through? I didn’t need to beat Brade in a starfighter duel. I knew I was good enough to do so, and even if not, who cared?

Scud.

Scud! Had I just outgrown…well, myself?

Brade wouldn’t want a fight either. This would be cover for some other plan. What was it? I thought I knew.

Chet, I sent, you still there?

Indeed.

Contact Jorgen, I sent. I can’t do it with this inhibitor field, but you can cut through it. I need you to ask him to do something for me.