Meisha’s eyes bolted open as Miriam, her older sister, jabbed her elbow into the captain’s ribs. Blinking a few times, she looked around the room to see her young niece and nephew looking up at her from their bunk bed, with wide eyes.

  “Right Meisha?” Miriam said while giving her a pointed look. “You fought and beat twenty thousand pirates that day!”

  “Aunt Meisha, is that true?” her nephew asked excitedly.

  The young space captain glanced at her sister and gave them a somewhat embarrassed smile, brushing her straight black hair away from her face. “Your mom likes to exaggerate, kiddo. It really wasn’t much of anything.”

  “So you didn’t blow up bad guys?”

  Meisha hesitated. “No, I.. I mean yeah we did fight some pirates but it… Hey, it's past your bedtime isn’t it?” She tucked in the kids and kissed them on their foreheads. “Don’t worry about the pirates. Have good dreams ok?” She stepped out of the room and waited as Miriam finished putting her children to bed. As her older sister shut the door with a soft click, Meisha shook her head.

  “You have to stop filling their heads with this sort of stuff, Miriam. The last thing they need to do is grow up with a starry eyed vision of what ship combat is. The kids don’t need to think this sort of thing is all fun and games.”

  “And it's different when you talk about the battle at Deep Orbit, when you’re surrounded by strangers?” Miriam said with a teasing smile on her face.

  Meisha rubbed her eyes, waking herself up. “Yeah well those strangers offer to buy me drinks after I tell them. I don’t think the kids can do that yet.”

  “It's a big deal for them to have a cool aunt.” Miriam said as the two sisters walked through her apartment. “They almost never see you and they don’t have any other family since dad passed. Now you’re headlining in the news. First captain to win a space battle since the Colonial civil war. They look up to you.”

  “I know, I know,” Meisha said with a yawn. She paused for a moment, shaking her head. “God, the kids have gotten so big. Last time I saw them, they were knee-high.”

  “So, why not let them think that you’re a hero for a while, eh? The rest of the Republic already does.” Miriam moved to the kitchen, looking over at her husband. “Rich, grab Meisha a drink, would you dear?”

  “No thanks. I have fleet transport coming to pick me up soon and I’m still fighting off the travel lag,” Meisha replied, taking her captain's cap off a coat hanger by the home’s entrance. “I really do wish I could stay longer.”

  Rich handed a drink to Miriam and took a sip of his own. “You’ve been all over the newscasts for weeks now. Rumor is that they’re going to give you the Fleet’s Commendation of Courage award. I’ve been bragging all about it to the lads and lasses in the shipyard.” He winked at Meisha. “More than a few have asked me to set you up with them for dinner.”

  “No, they aren’t going to give me an award,” Meisha said. “The Admiralty wants to debrief me again on the battle. It’s the first time I’ve been back on Earth in years. Probably just a routine checkup.”

  “Sure. Pirates have been harassing a sector for about eighty years and a non-combat transport captain all but destroys them overnight. You’re something of a hero.” Rich said with a laugh. “If the Admiralty didn’t give you the Fleet's Commendation award, the public would riot.”

  “I just put guns on a rock and told them to shoot the targets,” Meisha muttered.

  “And that worked great, apparently.”

  The doorbell rang, flashing a blue light in the hallway. “Looks like my ride's here,” Meisha said, hugging her sister and brother-in-law and giving them a sad smile. “Give the kiddos my love, I’m sure I’ll be receiving a new assignment after this.”

  Miriam and Rich followed her out of the apartment and onto the landing platform, the noise of the megacity piercing the quiet peace of their home.

  Evening was falling over the city. The sun’s golden light reflected off the steel landscape, casting a warm glow into the lower layers of the city as the inky blue of night started to set towards the top. Lights glowed over buildings that stood miles tall, and the sky traffic zoomed past every which way.

  Up above, high in the sky, silver tails from hundreds of starships entering and exiting orbit could be seen. Every few minutes, a massive blue flash from an orbital Starshot cannon illuminated the city as one supercharged a ship’s drive and fired them to the other end of the galaxy. Meisha shook her head. The Starshots were modern day miracles. She didn’t know the details of how they functioned, but she was enthralled with them all the same.

  On the apartment’s landing platform sat a silver and blue Fleet skycar. The UCDF insignia on its side identified it as part of Earth’s primary defense force. A man in a similarly colored peacoat stood next to the skycar, a high admiral’s cap on his head and an old fashioned pipe sticking out of a well-kept gray beard. He gave a friendly wave as Meisha approached.

  “Captain Al-Jihlani, I know for a fact that the Fleet pays you enough to afford a hotel, but you still crash at your sister’s place?” He said with mischief in his eyes.

  “Trying to save up for early retirement, admiral,” Meisha said, saluting. The admiral gave a gruff laugh.

  “As if you would ever let us pull you away from the stars, Captain. You and I both know that you prefer the freedom of space.” A big grin broke on his face. “Damned, Meisha. It's been a long while, how have you been?”

  Meisha gave a small smile, somewhat relieved that the person sent to retrieve her was her old mentor from the academy. “I’m doing as well as usual, Admiral Branson. How about you? I heard that you were retiring.”

  “Yeah, well, some things have changed. No rest for the weary, eh? Speaking of which, are you ready to go get droned at by the Admiralty?”

  “Yes sir.” She turned back to her family, giving them a wave and wishing them farewell before climbing into the skycar.

  As they rose into the air, Meisha glanced at Admiral Branson. “Any idea what I’m in for?”

  Branson stroked his beard, giving a small laugh. “Honestly, no, Meisha. You have a bigger kill count than half of the fleet despite being a non-combat captain. You have more combat experience than most of our destroyers and battleships.”

  “Sir, with all due respect to you and the council, I don’t think you can call that battle combat experience. We got lucky. The pirates were used to the fleet not being around.” She thought about how quick the battle had been; how it was over minutes after the first round had been fired. She hadn’t even considered the consequences of her actions after the victory. “I ignored my delivery orders and got the drop on them.”

  “Well, regardless, that's still more real experience than anything else. The only threats we’ve had the past hundred years are pirates, and we’ve never been able to destroy a flotilla of them until you. That’s caused a lot of movement in the high ranks of the Admiralty.”

  “What, are they upset that I showed them up?”

  “Well I’m sure some of them are.” Branson said with a laugh. “A rookie captain has done in a few days what a lot of us wish we had been able to do. You’ve become quite the target by bureaucrats and desk jockeys.”

  Meisha smiled, leaning back in her seat. “So I take it they won’t be giving me any commendation or award then, huh.”

  “I don’t want to spoil it,” Branson said. “Soak in Earth while you can, it may be a while before you’ll be back.”

  The skycar rose above the normal evening traffic, skimming along bright neon lights and rooftop gardens. After a short flight they slowed to a hover. The skycar landed at a massive pad next to a bustling complex, with colossal defense cannons scanning every incoming vehicle. On a black granite rock, etched in gold, were the letters UCDF - the United Colonial Defense Force.

  Formed over two hundred years ago at the end of a bitter civil war, the military force had kept things at peace throughout the Republic’s colonies. Very few ever attempted to test it, and the few that did made a life out of piracy and running from the law. The Defense Force, and in turn its fleets, were the most formidable and unified fighting force humanity had ever created. “Home again, home again,” Branson said, hopping out as they landed. “This way, Captain. No need to keep the Admiralty waiting.”

  Meisha followed Admiral Branson to the gates of the facility, where teams of well armed guards in thick black REAPER power armor stood guard. They towered over the pair by at least two meters, and their golden visors reflected the image of Meisha and Branson perfectly. The quiet whine of motors could be heard as one approached them, its massive shredder autocannon holstered on his back. “Welcome to fleet HQ, Admiral,” one said, his voice crackling through his suit’s speakers. He nodded to Meisha. “They’re waiting for both of you inside, meeting room B. You’ve been cleared for rushed security, I’ll have two of my men escort you.”

  The duo was led through brightly lit hallways bustling with activity, being ushered past armed checkpoints every few meters. Ship departures were announced overheads they walked, citing a time and destination for that battlegroup's launch. Meisha’s heart lurched, hearing the name of her own transport ship, The Rolling Thunder. Its departure time was only 5 minutes away. She would never have enough time to make it from the Admiralty’s meeting to the docks. This, Meisha assumed, was intentional. She stared at Branson. "That better not mean what I think it means… You took away my command? I’m not letting you stick me behind a desk."

  "It's a good ship with a great crew, Meisha. But no, we didn't clip your wings. No more questions please, save it for the Admiralty."

  Meisha gave a small huff of disapproval but continued following until they reached a conference room with several well armed soldiers standing outside. Both Meisha and Branson's retinas were scanned to verify their identities before they were ushered in.

  Branson took his place among the twenty admirals sitting around a table. Each one was reviewing different hoploads showing data or reports, some of them in live time. The magic of quantum communications, Meisha thought.

  One of the guards directed Meisha to stand at the head of the table. Anxiety rising in her stomach, she stood at attention while the admirals finished conducting whatever private business they had. Directly across from her, an older man with piercing blue eyes and a white mustache glanced up from a report.

  "Welcome, Captain Al-Jihlani. Head admiral Vidaker. I wish I could say it was a pleasure. I hope we haven't inconvenienced you by asking you to come."

  Meisha winced as she heard the 'Rolling Thunder, now departing' call for her transport sound out across the intercom. "No sir," she said a bit hesitantly. "But I can't help but notice that my ship has departed without me. Am I late?"

  Admiral Vidaker waved his hand dismissively. "We'll discuss that in a bit. First thing's first; we wanted to cover your last mission in detail. The report says that you "detected several unknown contacts entering the system, attempting to cloak with fake military IDs. Meisha ordered her pilot to hide in an asteroid cluster and turn off main power systems, while receiving updates on the recent pirate attack on Harmony, thus confirming that they were the wanted pirate vessels.”

  “Upon discovering this, Meisha deployed the two surface-to-orbit nuclear-tipped titanium rod cannons and had her weapons officer sync them up to fire off her ship's own weapon system while Meisha and the crew acted as the gunners. Meisha targeted the destroyers of the pirate ships and drew them in by sending out a fake SOS, opening fire once they were drawn into the asteroid field.

  Only one ship survived the encounter unscathed, and when the requested reinforcements showed up, most if not all of the enemy had already been disabled. Battlefield estimate is that 14,700 pirate crew members were killed, three thousand captured and six thousand civilians recovered. A solid victory.’"

  Vidaker stopped reading the report and pushed a small pair of glasses up on his nose. “Reports also say that you claimed not to care about the civilian lives, and risked the conflict. Is this correct, captain?”

  “Eh, yes sir.”

  “Can you tell me what your original orders concerning the planetary defense cannons were?”

  Meisha blinked. “Um, yes. Originally, my orders were to transport the planetary defense cannons from a foundry on Typhus to a new colony in the Atlantic sector… A-19, I believe?”

  “And when the pirates dropped into the sector, you deployed the planetary defense cannons instead of continuing your route.”

  “Yes sir. And we destroyed them and saved the colonists from Harmony.”

  Vidaker glanced up and studied her as if she were a pest. “So then you openly admit to ignoring your orders, and willfully engaged with an enemy without contacting your superiors first.”

  Meisha felt the blood drain from her face. The thought to seek higher permission had never crossed her mind during the engagement; only the thought to bait the trap and strike swiftly. “Yes sir,” she said, almost in a whisper. “But I-”

  “Captain, there is no excuse.” Vidaker growled. “You went directly against orders and engaged an enemy you weren’t supposed to. You used mining equipment in volatile conditions without training or knowledge on how they function. You endangered the lives of your crew, and the cost of the equipment you were carrying. You endangered and blatantly disregarded the possibility of mass civilian casualties. Due to your actions, we have removed you as captain of the Rolling Thunder. You are not fit to be the captain of a transport ship.”

  Meisha felt her heart lurch. She clenched her hands into fists and fought to keep her eyes from watering up, mind racing for the right words. “Please reconsider. This is my first mistake, and the crew and I are a perfect fit. We-”

  “The decision is already made, and it's final. At least have the spine to accept your punishment with dignity.”

  Another admiral cleared their throat. “With all due respect, High Admiral, this isn’t how we agreed to break the news.”

  Vidaker grunted and muttered, “Yes, Yes.” Giving Meisha a glare of disapproval, he shifted his gaze back to his holopad. “You’re damned lucky, do you know that, girl? If I had my way, you’d be sitting in a cell right now. You’re lucky that the civilian population sees you as some sort of hero, as does the United Colonial Coalition and among some of the Admiralty. We…have decided to award you the Fleet's Commendation of Courage award for your bravery and courage, however foolish and misplaced it is.”

  “Thank you,” Meisha whispered, still reeling from the fact of her ship being torn away from her so suddenly. The award felt like a band-aid being placed over a gunshot wound.

  “Don’t think it's anything more than a way to placate the public.” Vidaker growled. He cleared his throat, seeming to relax a bit. “Did you ever hear of the A-1:1 project while you were in the academy?”

  Meisha peered up, a confused expression on her face. Her thoughts were still about the Rolling Thunder and its crew, no longer caring much about the admiralty in front of her. “I’m sorry, what?”

  Vikaker shook his head in disbelief. “No wonder you can’t follow your damned orders. You can’t even focus. The A-1:1 project. Should have been quite the buzz when you were in the academy. A new way of naval warfare. Surely you know what I am talking about.

  Meisha thought back to her studies in the naval academy, not wanting to give Vidaker an excuse to hate her even more. Nothing regarding an ‘A-1:1’ came to mind. She shook her head slowly, fists clenched behind her back as she bounced between grief and rage at Vidaker. “I’ve never heard of anything about an ‘A-1:1’.” She answered curtly.

  “It was originally developed to be the most advanced battleship humanity had ever designed. State of the art modern engines, reactors and weapons. Only one exists, as a prototype designed to handle any and all situations ever presented to the fleet and her colonies. The prototype has been in storage for about four years now; as it proved too expensive to try and outfit and launch. Until now, it's costing more in storage, maintenance and security than it would be just to outfit the bloody thing and send it on its way. We need it gone, and you’re the perfect captain to command it.”

  “What? Why me? I’m sure that someone with more-”

  “The matter is not up for debate, captain,” Vidaker growled. “You are being assigned to this prototype as a way to appease the civilians and the UCC, and them alone. To them, you’re the only hero in the fleet. You will command this ship. You will accept the mission we are going to offer you. Or, you will spend the rest of your career stuck behind the desk on some backwater colony as a fleet liaison. This may sound like a promotion, but it is not. Am I making myself clear?”

  The captain shifted uncomfortably. “Will I be a part of any sort of battle groups or formations?”

  “No. You’ll be a solo operator ship.”

  “I…I see.” To be a solo operator ship was a death sentence; a single cruiser would draw pirates more vigorously than the normal battle groups of three or four ships. That Meisha was being given a new crew, ship, and sent out alone made her feel very alone. She had upstaged the Admiralty, and they all knew it. So the reward was to be given a new toy and told to stay out of the Admiralty’s spotlight.

  “Do you accept your assignment to this ship?”

  Meisha swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly very dry. “Yes sir.”

  “Good. The ship’s current designation is the A-1:1; due to the circumstances we will allow you to name it. We will also forward you the dossiers of your crew and the ship’s blueprints. I suggest you study them very hard tonight. You ship out on your next assignment in three days.”

  “Three days?!?” Meisha gasped.

  “It only took you five days to set up an ambush on a pirate flotilla. I think three days is plenty of time for someone of your… caliber to read a few papers. You’re a big girl, you can handle the short turnaround time. Unfortunately, a rather serious matter needs tending to, and you’re the only available captain we have. It’ll be an easy first assignment; a suitable way to become familiar with the A-1:1 and your crew. You’ll see the ship firsthand tomorrow morning and meet the crew we’ve been able to assemble. You’ll then have a day to prepare and you’ll launch the subsequent morning.”

  Taking a deep breath, Meisha steadied herself. “Understood. And what's the mission?”

  “I’m glad you asked, it seems you’re starting to put some of that initiative to constructive use at last.” Vidaker said, taking a seat. “We’ve lost contact with a gas mining colony and its Starshot station in the Perseus arm of the galaxy, around sixty five thousand lightyears away. They’re on the outer fringes of the colonial barrier, at the edge of explored space. We’ve received no emergency communications from them. It’s a three year old colony, so relatively new, but we had some experts there and a small fleet patrol to keep it safe. As we’ve had no word, we need you to go and establish contact with the commanding officer of the Starshot, colony, or patrol.”

  “Wait. Permission to speak freely, sir?”

  The head admiral grunted. “If you must.”

  “You’re sending a prototype ship, one that's crazy expensive to launch, under the command of an officer with no training with its systems, along with a new crew, to go check up on a gas mining colony? Don’t you think that's a bit… excessive?”

  “Not at all. Like I said, it's costing more for us to store the A-1:1 than it would to launch it. It's been taking up a massive amount of space to keep it on ground, and doing system checks and maintenance just in case we need it takes away priorities for other duties. You will also need an easier assignment to become used to commanding the A-1:1 and your new crew. Any other questions?”

  “No sir.”

  Vidaker nodded at Branson, who stood up. “Very well then, I’ll have Admiral Branson here escort you to the hotel room we’ve rented for you. Your personal effects from the Rolling Thunder are there, along with a holo-pad that contains all the information we've talked about earlier. You’ll be called upon at 0800 tomorrow morning to go inspect the A-1:1, and meet your crew.” He set down his holopad, and stared at Meisha, causing her to shift uncomfortably. “You are dismissed, Captain.”

  “Well that could have gone a bit better,” Branson grumbled as they flew through the now bustling nightlife of the city. “Vidaker really went for your throat. That's not how we had planned on breaking the news to you, by the way. Originally it was supposed to be a happy occasion with a small slap on your wrist.”

  “Lucky me,” Meisha mumbled, gazing out at the neon electric skyline that was zipping past. The sun had long since set, lights were beaming and the traffic floated high above the pedestrian paths below. Brightly colored billboards flashed advertisements, Fleet enlistment videos, and political campaign messages.

  Hues of blue, red, and yellow reflected off passing skycars. Green gardens or parks could be seen through the massive skyscrapers, which illuminated more as the sky got darker. It was beautiful in its own way, life and energy abounded throughout the place. She silently cursed the Admiralty for not allowing her more time to spend enjoying it.

  “Hey now. It's not all doom and gloom, Meisha.” Branson said, his tone soft.

  Meisha looked over at him. “How am I supposed to feel, Branson? Rolling Thunder was my home. I knew I could be reassigned, but so quickly? I didn’t have a chance to say goodbye to Aymer, or Amade, or Kamir or Quacita. I may never see them again.”

  “I know.”

  “ On top of this, I’m on Earth for the first time in five years and I can only stay for a few days. I have to crunch hard to learn a completely new crew and ship overnight.” She turned away from the window, deep sadness in her eyes. “Hell Branson, I didn’t even have a chance to say goodbye to my niece or nephew.” Meisha fell silent for a moment. “Who knows how tall they’ll be next time I see them.”

  “Meisha-”

  “No! It's not my fault that the damned Admiralty cares more about money and equipment than it does the actual defense of colonies! I saw what they did to Harmony. Maybe the Admiralty was fine with that but not me.”

  “You aren’t seeing the full picture, Meisha” Branson said, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder. “It's not that they don’t care. There are a lot of colonies out there that need protecting; we can’t be everywhere at once.”

  “I know.” Meisha mumbled. “This just… it sucks.”

  “This was never going to be an easy thing. Not giving you a chance to say goodbye was intentional. You would have been distracted, and we can’t afford that. Trying to rush you into command of a ship that's not supposed to exist isn’t exactly easy.”

  “Right, some prototype ship. Great.”

  Branson gave a soft chuckle. “Wait til you see it. In truth I’m a little jealous, the A-1:1 is a beauty with a bite to back it up.”

  “So what’s the catch?” Meisha said, giving him a sidelong look. “It’s luxurious and it has weapons. Why is it being shoved off onto me?”

  Branson shrugged. “Convenience, really. You’re the luckiest captain in the fleet. Ship was so damned expensive because it was originally going to be Vidaker’s flagship. Probably the reason he was so bloody angry.” He said, laughing. “

  Meisha raised her eyebrow, quizzically. “So I’m not being stationed on a dysfunctional piece of junk, then?”

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  “Meisha, have a little faith in me. Would I let them do that to you?”

  “No… No I suppose you wouldn’t.”

  Branson laughed, patting her shoulder. “I”ll tell you what; go curl up with some coffee and study the blueprints. Then see it tomorrow, and if you’re not in love with her the moment you see it, give me a call, ok?”

  “Alright Branson, alright,” Meisha said. “And the crew? A new ship is one thing; but you’re throwing me into an entirely new family and a single day to bond with them.”

  “Oh you’ll like your crew. I hand picked them myself.” Branson said with a grin.

  “You hand picked them?”

  “Yes. I went through thousands of career files and found you the best; people that I think who fit in well with you and your style of leadership. Read their files. You’ll like them, I promise.”

  Meisha exhaled, feeling somewhat comforted by Branson’s assurances. “Alright, if you say so.” She shook her head as the skycar came to a stop on the hotel’s landing platform. “You haven’t let me down yet.”

  “And I never will.” Branson replied, tossing her a room keychip.

  Meisha stared up at the hotel room's ceiling, wishing she could turn her brain off and sleep. The silence of the small room was deafening. A dim blue holographic clock on the wall displayed the time, pulsing with each second. The hours had been slowly ticking by while the young captain processed everything she had been told that evening. The Rolling Thunder was gone. Stripped away from her without even a chance to say goodbye to her beloved crew. Meisha was being given command of some mystery ship that hadn’t been deployed before, and a crew she was unfamiliar with.

  If the situation had been different, she would have been sent the information about her new posting via InstantComm. This would have given her plenty of time to sift through the ship’s specifications and her crew dossiers. Branson, however, had informed her that the A-1:1 prototype was too confidential to send via encrypted comms and would be delivered the old fashioned way; through a paper packet. Instead of researching and learning her new ship, Meisha was forced to wait. “Damn it Branson, what are you throwing me into?” She grumbled to herself.

  There was a sharp rap on the door, and Meisha’s heart rate spiked. Making sure she was somewhat presentable, the disheveled captain opened the door to see a pale young woman standing there, a jacket worn over her UCDF jumpsuit and a briefcase in her hands. She blew a strand of red hair out of her face and examined Meisha.

  “Captain Meisha Al-Jihlani?”

  “Yep, that's me.” Meisha replied. “Are you here to deliver my docs?”

  “Sure am.” the woman replied. “Just need to verify your ID first. Do you have a passcode given to you from the Admiralty?”

  “Yep. Please come in.” Meisha said, stepping into the room and grabbing her fleet ID from the nightstand. The woman followed her, closing the door behind herself and setting the case on a desk.

  “ID matches. That passcode?”

  “Midnight.”

  The woman smiled and stuck out her hand, visibly relaxing. “Great! Penelope Vasquez, Starship pilot and apparently now a document runner. I’ll be your flygirl, Captain!”

  Meisha smiled warmly back, shaking her hand. “Nice to meet you Penelope, and thanks for delivering these. Can I get you anything? A cup of coffee for your trouble?”

  “Coffee would be great, thanks. And my friends call me Thorn.”

  Meisha set a pot of coffee to brew, pouring two cups of the strong black drink. “Thorn huh? How’d you earn that honorific?”

  Thorn accepted her cup of coffee. “Eh, I've been told I’m a bit of a hothead by a few of my past commanders. Started off as a Hellcat Interceptor pilot and ended up graduating to battleships. Command says I’ve got a natural talent for flying, but the last ship I was assigned to, I ended up getting it damaged.”

  “How so?”

  “Was chasing a pirate that had gotten separated from their flotilla. Tried to shake me off in an asteroid field, but I was able to mostly navigate through and we caught them. Not before our ship took plenty of asteroid impacts and broke our main engine and a handful of our guns though. And… The admiral had told me not to. Did it anyway, so they’re somewhat upset at me. It was either I accept this position or I go to trial.” She shrugged. “Easy choice for me.”

  Meisha studied the pilot through a new lens, laughing quietly. “I have to ask, why follow the pirates into the asteroid field?”

  “Someone had to.” Thorn replied. “I had seen pirates slip away so many times, I got sick of it. I knew I could reach him, so I did.” She noticed the wary look in Meisha’s eyes, and smiled. “Don’t worry, cap. I’m not gonna pull something similar with you. This new ship is way too beautiful to scratch up.”

  Meisha blinked. “You’ve seen it?”

  “Of course.” Thorn replied. “You mean you haven’t?”

  “Just found out about it today.” Meisha grumbled. She pointed her coffee cup at the briefcase. “I was waiting on that.”

  Thorn smiled. “Oh you’re in for a treat, Captain. Let me show you!” She popped open the briefcase and slid a folder across the desk. “Check it out. Isn’t that the prettiest ship you’ve ever laid eyes on?”

  Meisha had to admit, Thorn was right. While most UCDF ships were blocky and drab, the A-1:1 had a more elegant look to it. Instead of just rear thrusters and a few maneuvering jets, it had four fins; two smaller ones in the front and two much larger ones in the back. Each fin had a rotary thruster inside of it, allowing the ship to yaw, pitch and roll in the vacuum of space. In the back sat the two primary thrusters responsible for 90% of the propulsion system. It had the potential to be very, very fast.

  Its interior was also shockingly luxurious for a military craft. While most military ships were completely utilitarian in their design, the A-1:1’s interior could easily be mistaken for a civilian ship. It housed a sizable medical and research center instead of the normal sick bay a destroyer would have. The cafeteria was massive, with small gardens and even some trees inside to give the crew a feeling of home while eating. Its hangars were clean and could house anything from Hellcat interceptors and dropships to civilian craft. Even the personnel deck, which housed the sleeping quarters, had multiple rec rooms for the crew to relax and unwind in.

  It was much fancier than anything Meisha had ever served on. Normally one would have to land on a planet or station to experience many of the creature comforts the A-1:1 sported. “Sure, it looks marvelous.” the captain admitted. “But I was told this thing had some bite to it.”

  “Oh it does.” Thorn said grinning. “Check this out: It's built around this thing called a TAR cannon. Stands for Titanium Accelerated Rail, same sort of tech they use for planetary defense cannons.”

  Meisha blinked, surprised. “They managed to fit one on a ship? Firing that thing must be hell with thrust and momentum.”

  “Nope, the ship’s inertial drives help dampen the recoil. Not sure how they did it. Firing this baby takes a ton of energy but doesn’t mess up our flight path or speed. The slug will slam into enemy ships, penetrate their armor and then boom.” Thorn mimicked an explosion with her hands. “The warhead inside detonates and shreds them with superheated metal. It's supposed to be able to turn battleships into slag in one hit.”

  Meisha thought back to the pirate ships she had destroyed with a similar weapon. “Bad way to go.”

  “Oh that's not all.” Thorn said with glee. “I’m sorry for anyone who decides to try and pick a fight with us. We have layered cannons on each side, in case we only want to poke a ship full of holes instead of vaporizing it. Missile and torpedo batteries of course, as well as sixteen Hellcat interceptors and two Phoenix transport ships in our hangars. And if something fires a shot off at us somehow, our point defense guns should be able to shred it before it gets too close.”

  Meisha thought for a moment. It was a massive amount of ordinance and having the TAR weapon was a huge benefit. The sheer size of its ammunition meant she would only be able to carry a handful of shots each voyage. It would have to be used sparingly; only when they needed to obliterate something. Otherwise, the A-1:1 would have to pound the enemy with its smaller weapons until the enemy surrendered or were destroyed.

  She continued flipping through the ship’s file. “I see it says it's rated for both atmosphere and vacuum?”

  “Yes Ma’am. We can go anywhere you want to.” Thorn replied. “That's what I’m most excited about. Sure, the ship is fast and lethal, but it's also free to fly anywhere.” She went quiet for a moment. “Hell, that's why I enlisted.”

  Meisha set the ship’s file to the side and glanced over at the young pilot. “You enlisted to fly anywhere?”

  Thorn bit her lip for a moment, embarrassed in front of her new commander. “Sort of.” She sighed. “I grew up in Detroit after the collapse. Street level, not even one of the higher buildings. Most nights you could stare straight up at the sky and see nothing but traffic and smog. I hated it. Didn’t have many options after high school, my family couldn’t afford university, so I enlisted. Was gonna be a normal infantry grunt, but during testing they found out I had very good reflexes and stuck me in a pilot's seat.” Thorn smiled to herself.

  “I had only seen the stars in textbooks up to that point. Leaving Earth’s atmosphere for the first time… it was the greatest feeling I’ve ever had. Stars, planets, nebulas… they were all mystical to me. Still are, actually. It's my obsession. I don’t want to be stuck on this rock, I wanna be up there, figuring out the secrets of the universe and seeing things nobody has ever seen before.” She examined Meisha. “I have a feeling I’m going to be able to do that working for you.”

  “That's a noble way of looking at life.” Meisha replied.

  Thorn laughed. “Beats the hell out of moping around the ship until we touch dirt again, that's for sure.”

  Meisha relaxed a bit. She had been so worried about this new command and crew. At least her pilot was likable. “I’m sure we’ll have our own fair share of adventures. I’m happy to have you as my pilot Thorn.” She paused for a moment. “Just promise me you won’t joyride our ship into a star or something.”

  “Not unless you order me to, Captain.” Thorn replied with a wink. “Am I the first crewmember you’ve met?”

  “Sure are.”

  “Awesome. That means I have a better chance at becoming your favorite!”

  Meisha shook her head. “I don’t have favorites, I take care of all my crew.”

  “You say that, but everybody knows that captains have their favorites.” Thorn said. “Besides, everyone else is a bit of an odd duck.”

  “You’ve met everyone already? Are you a pilot or an intel officer?”

  “I get around.” Thorn said with a grin. “Everybody loves a hotshot pilot. Here, check these out.” She dug through the briefcase and tossed more files onto the desk. “Some interesting people are gonna be flying with us.”

  Meisha picked one up, looking at the files inside. “Lieutenant Nathanial Briggs, commander of ground force, huh?”

  “Yep.” Thorn confirmed. “Guy is a legend in the outer colonies, longtime veteran of ship to surface deployments. Apparently his troops love him. Rumor has it that he was ‘grossly insubordinate’ on his last campaign and lost a decent amount of soldiers to pirates.”

  “Insubordinate?” Meisha mused. “I guess he’ll fit right in with you and I then.”

  Thorn shook her head. “Nah, you and I are insubordinate. He’s ‘grossly’ insubordinate. Almost got his entire detachment killed I guess. They ordered him to stand down to try and cut a peace deal with some dug in pirates on a colony. I guess he disagreed and ended up causing a lot of grief and casualties. Admiralty was gonna try him, but rumor is his troops were going to revolt if they did.”

  “So instead they assigned him to me and gave me his troops.” Meisha muttered. “Two hundred and fifty of them.”

  “I guess don’t end up on his bad side or give him an order he disagrees with.” Thorn said with a shrug. “Otherwise he could snap and kill us all.”

  Meisha studied the bald, bearded man in the file’s photo; the image’s steely eyes drilling into her soul. “Shit.”

  “Yeah I’d be really worried about him. More So than Michelle.” Thorn admitted.

  Setting Brigg’s file down, Meisha searched for one bearing the name Thorn had mentioned. The image of a blonde woman with bright green eyes smiled back at her. “Specialist Michelle Pirique?”

  “Yeah that's the one.” Thorn grumbled.

  “She’s the Liaison officer? I don’t see anything in her file that looks terrible. No insubordination at least.”

  Thorn grunted. “Yeah? Look at her family.”

  Meisha did, and her eyes went wide. “She’s Admiral Vidaker’s daughter? What the hell did she do to become assigned to us?”

  “My honest opinion? She’s here to watch us and make sure we behave.” Thorn admitted. “No better position for her than a liaison officer. Every order, status update or tidbit of news goes through her. And with us being a troublesome lot and Vidaker’s legendary dislike for rulebreakers, I’m sure he’d love to have his daughter here to make sure we follow orders. Could also be to make sure Dr. Serrano doesn’t come up with any ideas.”

  “Thorn, did you go through these files before you delivered them to me?”

  Thorn smiled devilishly. “No Cap, like I said, I get around.

  Meisha blinked. Serrano’s name sounded very familiar, and Meisha knew she had seen the thin woman in the file before. “Wait, Dr. Amara Serrano? Isn’t she that civilian doctor who tried to blackmail the admiralty a few years back by threatening to falsify medical tests?”

  “Yep that's the one. Came out with all of these crazy claims on how the fleet was knowingly manufacturing bad meds to cut costs. Generated a ton of buzz until they found huge sums of money that she had been paid to tarnish the UCDF’s medical program.”

  “What the hell is she doing serving on my ship then? She should be in prison.”

  “Way above my paygrade.” Thorn said with a shrug. “My guess is, the lady is wicked smart. Comes off as cold and arrogant, but she has five different medical degrees and even more biology ones. She scares me more than Briggs, I won’t lie.”

  “So no prior fleet experience, but a hell of a surgeon.” Meisha said.

  “Yeah.” Thorn fell quiet for a moment. “ Captain, I can’t help but think this is some sort of redemption mission for a lot of us who are in bad graces with the Admiralty. Maybe they’re trying to give us a chance to prove we’re worth keeping around?”

  “Maybe.” Meisha replied. She picked up the last file on the desk, thumbing through it. “Joshua Anderson. What's his story?”

  Thorn shook her head in pity. “Ah, Anderson. Poor guy just cracked one day, apparently. Word is that he spent almost twenty years as a battleship gunner, and was one of the most accurate fire control specialists in the fleet. I guess the stress got to him. He seems kind enough.”

  “His record looks stellar.” Meisha said. She studied the image of an older man, proudly wearing the insignia of his ship at the time the picture was taken. “He froze after being that solid for that long?”

  “Well the rumor is that he freaked out and lost his nerve. Doesn’t seem off when I met him in person, but who knows. He should just retire.” Thorn eyed the wall clock as the hour turned. “Ah, sorry captain, I’ve stayed way too long.” She set her coffee down and rushed to the door. Turning back, she gave Meisha a warm smile. “Nice meeting you though. I look forward to exploring the galaxy with you!” With that, the energetic pilot vanished into the hotel wall, returning the room to silence.

  Meisha studied the mess of papers on her desk, and rubbed her eyes. “This is going to be like herding cats, isn’t it?” She muttered to herself, watching the clock on the wall as it counted down the time. Too much to read, and not enough time to absorb it all. With a sigh, the captain brewed another cup of coffee and got to work.

  “Good morning, Captain!” said the overly cheery Admiralty member as a very groggy Meisha stepped out of the skycar. She gave him a weak salute, walking past him to check in at the hangar security. The man ran to her side like an eager puppy. “My name is Adam, Captain Al-Jihlani. I will be showing you around the A-1:1 today and introducing you to your crew!”

  “Yes, yes, morning to you as well,” Meisha grunted. She let the hangar security guards take her biometric data, verifying her identity. The guards stepped aside, letting her and the Admiralty straggler through.

  “Are you excited to see the A-1:1? I know we have sent you blueprints, did you-”

  “I was awake until 2 in the morning looking over the blueprints,” Mesha said, a slight growl in her voice. “I had one evening to view it, so don’t expect me to remember everything, ok?”

  The man shrunk back for a second. “Uh, ok then. As you wish, I suppose. Right this way please.” He straightened himself out and led Meisha through the hangar complex, until they reached a large, sectioned off area with several guards in REAPER armor. Adam gave them a nod, and they were ushered in. Meisha’s jaw dropped.

  The A-1:1 was by far the most beautiful ship Meisha had ever seen. It was huge. With silver armor plating and black trim, it felt like the very ship itself belonged in the vacuum of space. On its mighty wings sat guns the size of old towers, capable of tearing near any opponent to shreds. Small shuttles flew to and fro, hauling supplies and personnel to different points for launch preparation. Occasionally, a low rumble that could be mistaken for thunder drowned out the hangar noise as engines and thrusters were test fired. Meisha had to refocus, realizing she had stopped in her tracks to stare. She caught up to Adam, who had continued his pace. He gave a small laugh.

  “Most people have a similar reaction the first time they see it.”

  Meisha shook her head in amazement, her morning grumpiness forgotten. “This is the A-1:1? I knew it was big but… not this.”

  “It's impressive, isn't it?” Adam exclaimed. “I never thought I would ever see the Admiralty and the UCC come to an agreement to launch it, even if it is just at half capacity!”

  “What? Half what?” Meisha asked. She had known there was going to be catch to all this, but she didn’t believe that the Admiralty would send her into space without a stocked ship.

  “Half capacity! Surely the Admiralty told you that due to ammo and personnel costs, we can only fit the A-1:1 with about 40 to 50 percent of its maximum ammo and supplies, and about 70 percent of its crew.”

  “No, they forgot to mention that little tidbit,” Meisha growled.

  Adam gave a small shrug and a slightly nervous smile. “Well, you’ll still have all of your essentials so it won’t be like we’re sending you to your death or anything. The mission is a simple investigation — a non combat mission. Hopefully, it won’t turn out like your last one, right?” He said, his voice straining with false friendliness as he nudged her with his elbow. Mesiha’s only response was a withering glare.

  Adam cleared his throat. “Once you complete it I’m sure we’ll be able to afford filling some of those holes in your supply list!”

  Meisha shook her head, laughing disdainfully. “How about fuel, oxygen, food? Are you sending us up with that?”

  “Why, of course! The A-1:1 has oxygen scrubbers that will reprocess used air, a hydroponics area for growing fruits and veggies, and enough food to last a year round trip. Your four fusion reactors are fueled and will keep you running for a very long time.” He paused for a moment. “I know it's not ideal, but I believe a Captain like yourself will be able to handle it, I really do. Now, before you make any rash decisions or anything, would you like to see the inside and meet your crew?”

  “Alright. Yeah, let's see it,” Meisha replied. The two walked across one of the many entry bridges that led towards the A-1:1’s main airlock. An entry station had been set up, with a pale woman sitting at a desk, processing crewmembers that were entering the ship. Her blonde hair was covered by a navy blue military cap, and she was solely focused on the holopads and data terminals in front of her. In one of her ears rested a com device, and her eyes flicked from screen to screen without looking at the people in front of her.

  “Good morning, Michelle!” Adam said in his annoyingly cheerful voice. The woman didn’t look up.

  “Not right now, Adam. This is a big day, the Captain will finally be here. We don’t need to do any more inspections or tests or last minute changes.”

  “If I may-” Adam began.

  “No you may not. You’ve been floating around here bugging the prep crew for the past few days, and suggesting changes that aren’t necessary. Hell, Briggs told me that if he sees you in his armory again he’ll toss you out the airlock himself.”

  “But I-” Adam glanced helplessly at Meisha, who crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.

  “Lieutenant Briggs threatened to do what?” She asked, holding back a small smile. The woman glanced up, and bolted out of her chair in a salute.

  “Captain Al-Jihlani!” She exclaimed, wide-eyed. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there! I was so wrapped up in my work, I just-”

  Meisha gave a small laugh, and returned her salute. “At ease, Specialist. Michelle Pirique, correct?”

  “Yes Ma’am,” She stepped forwards, extending her hand. “ I heard about your last assignment, It will be an honor serving with you!”

  “The honor is mine. It's not every day I have the head admiral’s daughter as my liaison officer.” Meisha replied, shaking her hand. Michelle’s face soured a bit.

  “Believe me, Ma’am, it's not anything special.” She paused for a moment, and gave an easy smile. “The A-1:1 is incredible, isn’t it? I never thought I’d see such a ship in my life. Let alone serve on one!”

  Meisha smiled. “Well I’m glad you like it. Truthfully I only found out about it less than a day ago, but it's very impressive.” She paused for a moment. “This will be your first tour in space, correct?”

  “Yes ma’am. Don’t worry about me though, I’m more than capable. I helped my fa… Head Admiral Vidaker as his liaison officer for a while. I’m plenty capable.”

  “Well then, I look forward to working with you,” Meisha exclaimed. She nodded into the airlock. “Mind if I step in and check out the inside?”

  “Not at all ma’am! If I can make a suggestion, perhaps a visit to the bridge first? It's at the nose of the ship, you’ll pass most of the important centers on your way.”

  Meisha nodded. “Sounds like a plan, then.” She turned to Adam, who had backed off slightly. “Are you coming along?”

  The man gave a weak smile. “No thank you, I’ll wait out here. I’d rather not like to come face to face with Lieutenant Briggs again.” Meisha nodded, and stepped inside. The interior walls were matte silver, with dark steel flooring. White lights illuminated the entire hallway, banishing any shadow that dared to try and form. Meisha continued into the belly of the beast, walking past crewmen rushing back and forth, looking at wall signs for the directions to the bridge.

  After some wandering, she found it. Walking up a ramp into the lofty command center, Meisha emerged into a room that sat forty people. Massive viewing screens surrounded them on all the walls as well as on the domed ceiling, giving the entire bridge a 360 degree view of the outside. All of the panels were on standby at the moment, casting a deep blue shade on the room.

  Each viewing panel was a sector, and each sector had assigned crewmen to monitor and report on what they saw. In the front of the room, right in front of Sector One viewing screen, was the pilot's station. Thorn sat there with her boots kicked up on the dash, signature jacket on over her jumpsuit. She gave a lazy wave in Meisha’s direction before redirecting her attention to the datapad in her hand.

  Over to the right sat the gunnery station, where a grizzled man with gray hair tinkered with the controls. He looked up as soon as Meisha entered the bridge, snapping to attention. “Captain on deck!” He snapped. Several of the junior officers scrambled to stand and salute, some dropping tools or files. Thorn gave an almost imperceptible roll of her eyes and a smile, and followed suit.

  “At ease.” Meisha replied, motioning everyone to relax. She walked up to him and shook his hand. “Am I correct in assuming that you are my gunner?”

  The man gave a stiff nod. “Yes Ma’am, Gunnery Officer Joshua Anderson. I’ve been firing guns on military ships for a long time. The A-1:1 has a newer system, but I’ll learn it fast.” He nodded to the pale woman with the jacket as she approached. “And that over there is-”

  “Don’t worry about it Anderson, the captain and I already met!” Thorn said, giving a somewhat cocky salute. “You look a little tired, captain. Didn’t get much sleep last night?” The disparity between this woman and Anderson was somewhat amusing for Meisha. She could tell that Anderson was a military man through and through, and she could tell that Thorn was not, even a little bit.

  “Are you two getting along ok?” Meisha asked.

  Anderson nodded “I think so, Ma’am. Thorn may have a bit to learn on military bearing, but I’m sure some good examples will rub off on her.”

  Thorn rolled her eyes playfully. “Sure Anderson. Just make sure you can keep your firing lines up with my flying. I don’t fly at ‘Early Bird Special’ speeds.”

  Anderson gave a gruff laugh. “As long as you can keep up with my target patterns. And we don’t have any dates with asteroid fields.”

  “Hey bringing that up isn’t fair! I still got the guy.”

  “Glad to hear you’re working well together.” Meisha said with a smile. “Stop by the briefing room at 15:00. We have a lot to go over and not much time.”

  “Aye captain!” Both responded in unison. Meisha gave them a quick salute, and set off to tour the rest of the ship.

  The armory was a travesty. Weapons laid in piles on the floor, with ammunition boxes scattered in no apparent order. Troopers scuttled back and forth through the mess, grabbing supplies and stowing them in their PRBs (Personal Readiness Bays). Meisha took her cap off and stepped inside, giving a small laugh at the state of the place. “They really are doing this at the last possible minute, aren’t they?” She muttered. “At this point I expect the ship to be held together with duct tape and string.”

  Over the noise of the busy armory, a man’s voice could be heard shouting orders. Moving past a few stacks of supplies, Meisha caught a glimpse of him. The man was massive, well built with broad shoulders and a thick brown beard. His blue eyes cut through the room, and no soldier could escape it. “Perez!” He shouted. “That's a rocket launcher, not your dog. Don’t drag the damned thing on the floor, pick it up! Lupus, Make sure that armor is secure! Remember ladies: three hundred rounds, rifle, sidearm, and armor in your PRBs! If I find anything extra you’ll be dropping in with nothing.” He caught Meisha’s eye and cursed. “And of course the captain’s here now.”

  Meisha raised her eyebrow, and moved closer to the man. “Is this a bad time?”

  “It's always a bad time. May as well see the place.” The man said, giving her a quick salute and turning towards a soldier who had just tripped over a box. “Emil, if you watched where you were going half as well as you stared at Private Anya’s ass, we’d be done by now!” He shook his head. “Damn these kids. I’m Lieutenant Briggs, Ma’am, but I’m guessing you’ve already figured that one out.”

  “Nice to meet you, Briggs.” Meisha took a look around the chaotic room. “So, what's going on here?”

  “I’ll tell you what’s what, the Admiralty are a bunch of asshats.” Briggs growled. “They dumped our supplies in here yesterday, and didn’t let us know. Left me and my men to sort it out, which I have no trouble doing, but the assholes never even gave us all of our gear. I’m missing half of my ammunition, 18 sets of REAPER heavy power armor, several heavy weapons and a few rifles. And from the sounds of it, we won’t be receiving them until after this first deployment, right?”

  “I was told that it’ll be an easy recon mission.”

  The lieutenant stared at her dead in the eyes. “Of course you were. You’re a rookie captain who happened to get the drop on a handful of pirates and got lucky. In real combat, nothing is ever easy or simple. The admiralty has already screwed us over by limiting my equipment and manpower. Now I have a captain who’s hungry for medals. People like you tend to get people like me killed.”

  Meisha narrowed her eyes. “You’re obviously speaking freely, so I will too. You don’t know a single thing about me Lieutenant. I don’t plan on getting anybody killed.”

  Briggs studied the young captain. “What would you do if I hit you, right now? If I just punched you in the face as hard as I could, how would you react?”

  Meisha blinked, thrown off by the random question of violence.

  “Would you stamp your foot and demand I be arrested? Would you cry and run away?” Briggs leaned closer, his eyes threatening. “What will you do when the fist hits your face?”

  “I don’t-”

  “Right. You have no clue.” Briggs grunted. He turned away and hefted a box of ammunition onto his broad shoulder. “People who haven’t seen combat, real combat, not the sterilized ship to ship fighting, have no idea.” He set the box down in a PRB with his own name stenciled on it, and sighed. “You never know how someone will react until they’re actually in the mud, blood and shit. I’ve been in the shit, Captain. If you’re smart, which the newscasters believe you are, you’ll listen to my advice. I strongly advise against any sort of major firefight on the ground. Half of these kids have only been with the fleet for less than a year, and we do not have enough ammo to last in any sort of real engagement.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” Meisha growled, his admonition of her causing her blood to boil. “For now, keep doing what you’re doing. Stop by the briefing room at 15:00, there’s some things we need to talk about.”

  Briggs gave a single nod, and turned back to managing the armory. As Meisha walked to the medical center, she could hear his orders echoing down the corridors.

  The medical center was thankfully in a much better condition than the armory. It was quiet and sterile, with bright white lights and small medical drones zipping back and forth, quietly stocking supplies and fulfilling prescriptions for those on the crew who would need them. In the center of the room stood a tall thin woman wearing a lab coat. She peered up from her work as Meisha walked in. “Ah, Captain Al-Jihlani. Doctor Amara Serrano, pleasure to make your acquaintance. Feeling ill?”

  “No, I came to see you and your workplace,” Meisha said, taking a look around. “How are you settling in?”

  “Truthfully? Not well. Only a third of what I requested on my list has actually been provided. I don’t know what you military people use, but I don’t see how I can be expected to keep an entire ship completely healthy with the medical supplies and staff akin to a veterinarian. Much less any sort of engagements you throw us into. We can perform some surgeries and the tech onboard is cutting edge, but we don’t have much medicine to work with. I can handle a large amount of minor injuries, but anything major or long term will need stationside care. My medical drones and I can only handle so much. If anybody loses limbs, we don’t have access to biological replacements or cybernetics.”

  Meisha shrugged. “I know, there’s not much I can do. The Admiralty has already made it clear that we won’t be fully equipped until we finish this first flight. I believe it has something to do with proving that we, as a project, are actually worth funding, but who knows what the Admiralty thinks.”

  “This brings me to my next concern.” Dr. Serrano said. “I am a civilian doctor, not a combat one. Furthermore, I disagree with the concept of militaristic action and violence as an answer. I will not be ‘going in with the troops’, I refuse to set foot off this ship during engagements.”

  “Your concern is noted, and ignored.” Meisha growled. “You are my head doctor, if I have a reason for you to be off the ship tending to medical needs, you will be there.”

  “That’s nonsense. I am-”

  “I don’t care what you are.” Meisha snapped “You are aboard my ship and you will follow my orders. You will not stand here and tell me what you will and will not do. You may be a civilian, but you’re my crew now, and you’ll be treated as such. No special rights for anybody.”

  Serrano laughed. “So I will go down during engagements and risk my life with little training while you will be safe aboard the ship?”

  “No. Unless there are enemy ships to worry about, I’ll be groundside before you will. You will only be groundside if I have injured troops.” She hesitated. “I am not unreasonable, doctor, and I’m not going to put your life in danger for the hell of it.”

  “I’ll believe that when I see it, Captain Al-Jihlani. It wasn’t my first choice to be here in the first place. I would much rather be back at my clinic than dealing with members of the Fleet.”

  Meisha gave her a small smile. “Well doctor, I’m not the usual fleet captain. If you want to settle in well here, start by trusting me. Now follow me, I want to address my leadership all at once.”

  Once they had all gathered in the briefing room, Meisha straightened herself. “I’ve spoken to each of you separately already. We’re all having supply issues, I’ll do what I can to fix that. We will be launching in two days, so we work hard and we work fast. This is a new experience for all of us. We’re the first crew to man the A-1:1; there will be issues, and we’ll deal with them as they happen. I encourage you all to read up on each other's files and our mission briefing. We stick together and we’ll complete this mission. Other than the supply issue, does anybody have any questions?”

  “Yes Captain.” Pirique said, slightly raising her hand. “Before we launch, we need to name the A-1:1. Do you have anything in mind?”

  Meisha smiled, pulling up a blueprint of the ship on a holopanel and winking in Thorn’s direction. “We’ll call her the Dauntless Midnight.”