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“Yes, sir!” said Davin. He eagerly climbed into the copilot’s seat and waited for instructions. When none came, he remembered the lessons he had been taught in the VR simulator, and quickly helped the instructor with the checklist. Within minutes they were ready to ease the AT-AT out of the docking bay.

Davin watched the screens inlaid above the viewport; he saw images broadcast from the docking area of the AT-AT from all different angles. In the seat next to Davin, the instructor effortlessly ran through the sequence to back the AT-AT away from its berth. Although the AT-AT was completely controlled by artificial intelligence, Davin appreciated for the first time the enormity of the task of running a machine that held nearly as many moving parts as the human body. The human presence on board served as a foolproof backup.

“Let’s take her up into the hills,” said the instructor. “I want to run through some target practice. I’ll let Base know our call sign is Landkiller One.”

The view outside of the viewport raced across the molecular-thick window as the AT-AT lumbered away from the base. They quickly left behind the syngranite buildings and roads and turned into the rugged hillside.

The ride was smooth. The AT-AT stepped across chasms so deep Davin couldn’t see the bottom. They climbed the ridge and dropped down to the valley on the other side; boulders littered the hillside. They were in the middle of a barren wasteland. Sheer rock rose up on one side of them, and in the distance, Davin saw red and silver rock formations jutting into the air, looking like a forest of multicolored needles. Davin glanced at the clock—they had only left the base ten minutes before, but already they were out in the wilderness.

Little by little the instructor allowed Davin to take over the AT-AT controls. Piloting the AT-AT was just like using the virtual reality simulator, but Davin knew that any misjudgment would be disastrous. Davin devoted his entire attention to monitoring the myriad instruments.

“You’re pretty good at this,” said the instructor after a while. “Not many recruits are as comfortable as you.”

“Thanks,” said Davin, not breaking his concentration.

“Keep at this heading,” said the instructor, pushing up from his seat. “I want to check the weapons cache. We’re coming upon the target range and the terrain doesn’t change any from here.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Just call out if anything goes wrong; I’ll be right back. But don’t leave the controls—no matter what happens.”

“Yes, sir.” Davin tried to keep his excitement in check. The AT-AT almost functioned on its own, but Davin still felt heady being in command, alone in the command center. Step by monstrous step, the AT-AT lumbered across the barren terrain. Looking out over the rugged land, Davin could imagine himself commanding a fleet of AT-AT’s, massing against the Rebels—

Davin caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye. A dark speck, then suddenly three more, swooped down out of the sky. They headed straight for the AT-AT.

Davin glanced at his radar screen—nothing showed up. He punched up his scanning instruments and got the same response: nothing at all in the EM, gravitational, and neutrino spectrums.

Davin frowned and called out to his instructor, “I’ve got a visual on some fighter craft heading this way, but they don’t show up on scanners. They’re closing fast.”

Davin didn’t get an answer from his instructor, still back in the weapons cache. The only sound Davin heard was the muted rumbling of the AT-AT’s power system, and the slight jarring that came over the electronically cushioned ride.

Davin turned in his seat. “Sir? Are you there?” The door to the weapons cache was sealed; Davin turned back to the front. The four fighter craft grew closer. He slapped at the intercom and broadcasted throughout the AT-AT. “Sergeant!” Still no answer.

The four ships split off in two pairs, each vessel turning sideways as they came directly for the AT-AT control