“I don’t care about any of that, Sam.”

Carson struggled to hold Fritz’s terrifying gaze. “Yes, Commander.”

“I don’t want to hear about that pack of lazy dogs chasing you around, distracting you from your duty.”

“No, Commander.”

“No…what I care about is getting a look at that tablet myself. Congratulations, Sam, you’ve got the best reason of all of us to get through this…and back to Archellia.”

Carson stared back, trying to hide his stunned surprise. Then he caught the smile on Fritz’s face as the fearsome engineering chief walked over and held her hand out for the tablet.

*   *   *

“This is an important mission, more than any normal combat space patrol. I think we have a good chance to defeat the enemy ship, but half our systems are hanging by a thread.” Barron’s words were a bit more optimistic than his thoughts. He had a plan now, at least, which was better than just sitting and waiting. His people did have a chance…but he wasn’t sure thought it was a good chance. “The asteroid field is going to reduce their effective range to less than fifty thousand kilometers. But if any of their fighters get through and launch a successful attack…well, that will probably be the battle. It won’t take much to knock the reactors down or take more of our guns offline. I’m not even sure what’s keeping the still-working ones functional.”

Jamison turned toward Stockton, exchanging nods with his friend. Then he returned his gaze to Barron. “We’ll see it done, sir. Whatever it takes.”

Barron sat impassively. Jamison was his strike force commander, and he was downright dour by the standards of the fighter corps. But even he was prone to the bravado Barron knew was an essential part of what allowed a man or woman to crawl into the cramped cockpit of a fighter and launch into a battle.

“No bullshit, Kyle. I need those fighters kept away from Dauntless. Whatever it takes has to mean just that. Whatever it takes.” Barron knew he was telling his officer that the mission was more important than any—all—of his pilots’ lives. He hated it, but he meant it anyway.

Jamison’s looked right into Barron’s eyes. His look was cold, serious. “I understand, sir. Whatever it takes.” He paused for a few seconds before turning back toward Stockton. “We’ll have to go in waves…maybe three. We’ll need birds positioned farther back to cut off any enemy fighters that try to run through our interceptors.” Another pause. “That means we’ll be outnumbered at the point of contact. Our lead forces could take losses. Bad losses.”