“I see you’ve met our new friend,” he said, softly.  “However, I’m going to have to tell you to put her out of your minds.  We have a great deal to cover and not much time.”

He scowled from face to face until he had their attention, then continued.  “First, a warm welcome to the newcomers, who have finally arrived.  Not their fault, I hasten to add, but we’re having to reorganise the squadrons while en route to our target and that’s going to be a pain in the butt.  The new squadron rosters are posted on the datanet; I've appointed brevet squadron leaders from the more experienced pilots to take command.”

There was a long pause.  “Seniority alone was not counted,” he added.  None of the newcomers had any experience facing the alien starfighters.  “If any of you have a problem with it, go tell the XO you want to spend the rest of the cruise in the brig and save me some time.”

He met Rose’s eyes briefly.  He’d spoken to her already, telling her that she would be one of the new squadron leaders.  Thankfully, she'd accepted the challenge without demur.  Ted wasn't sure if she was completely reliable, but she did have experience and she needed something to focus on, beside her desire for revenge.

“We have updated simulations based on our previous encounter with the aliens,” Kurt continued, in a calmer tone.  “After this meeting, we will go straight into them and spend the next few hours practicing, practicing and practicing.  If there are problems, I would prefer to discover them in the simulator than actual flying.  We will continue simulations even when we’re on the way, apart from one squadron that will maintain a permanent CSP around the flotilla.  The aliens may surprise us at any moment.”

The pilots didn't look happy at the reminder.  Kurt couldn't really blame them.  One squadron wasn't really enough to provide cover for the flotilla, even if the flotilla was armed with rail guns and improved sensor programs that should give the aliens a nasty shock.  Ideally, the other pilots would be able to rush from the simulators to their starfighters within minutes, but even their best timing wasn't ideal.  When they got closer to New Russia, they’d have to abandon the simulators and remain on combat launch alert.

He made a show of glancing at his watch.  “We start simulating in five minutes,” he said, raising his voice.  “Anyone not there when I arrive will be buying the drinks.”

The room emptied, rapidly.  Kurt allowed himself a smile as he saw the reporter’s bemusement.  The pilots might have allowed themselves to chat her up, but not when their wallets were on the line.  Kurt hadn't been joking when he’d told them that any latecomers would be buying the drinks, next time the pilots went on leave.  The costs could easily reach a few hundred pounds.