I had a real ship. A ship I knew how to fly? Would the controls really be familiar? Would I know how to run all the ship systems? Just how realistic was the game?

I nodded, then gave a little wave, pulling Alex so he would hurry. “Bye, guys!”

They were both laughing as Alex escorted me through one of those large archways, the ones big enough for trucks, and I gasped when I saw what was on the other side.

Holy shit.

Ships. A handful of shuttles of varying sizes. And starfighters. Rows and rows of them. Shiny. Perfect. Most of them so gorgeous they looked like they’d never been out of the hangar. “Are they all new?”

Alex gave my hand a squeeze and led me toward the end of the nearest row. “Yes. Most of them. When the Dark Fleet took out the Starfighter base, we lost the bonded Starfighter pairs and their ships. We are rebuilding from scratch.”

“How… how many survived?”

His jaw clenched; then he sighed. “Counting Gustar and Ryzix, twelve pilot teams survived. They have been split up, two teams per base.”

My eyes widened at the tally. “That’s not enough.”

He nodded. “We know. So far we’ve been able to hold off the Dark Fleet’s attacks, but only because they have not come at us in force. They do not know how many Starfighters we have left, nor that we’ve created the Starfighter Training Academy to find recruits from other planets. They know nothing of you or the others who will soon follow. That is the only thing that has saved us. That will save us.”

Shit. “So, we’re Team Three?”

“On Arturri, yes.”

“And there are only thirteen Starfighter pilot teams, including us, to protect the whole planet?” I felt nauseated again. The entire planet of Velerion and there were twenty-six people—and that included me—to protect them all?

“One bonded pair is worth a hundred Dark Fleet ships.”

“Sell that propaganda somewhere else, Alex. I played the game. Their ships are fast. Their pilots are sneaky. It took me months to win, and I’m the only one who’s done so. They’re that good. This is a disaster.”

His green eyes narrowed. His shoulders rolled up and back. “This is a war, Jamie. And you are a weapon. As am I. So is our ship.” He pulled me to a stop in front of a sight I knew by heart. My ship. My starfighter. The same ship I’d watched a digital version of Alex climb into literally hundreds of times on my screen back home. “Elite Starfighter Jamie Miller, I present you with your ship, the Valor.”