Finger by finger you work your hands into the flight suit gloves. Step by step you climb the ladder, up to the fighter.

You look down into the Aurora's cockpit with a shiver.

This is where it happened. In a cockpit. Not this cockpit, not this ship, but it was a cockpit like this one, crowded with switches and labels. You remember the labels, DATA STOWAGE and EWMS, INST MOD SEL and ECM CONSENT, the tiny machined nubs of alloy that controlled your fate. You remember the sweat under your gloves and the breath hissing in your mask.

You remember your failure.

But you won't think about that right now. You have a job to do. You believe, more than anything else, in the ideals of your job. Protect the innocent. Save those who need saving. Keep the human family together.

That strength gets you down, into the cockpit.

You reach back for the straps and bind yourself into the ship.