“Sir!” A ragged chorus went around the table. About half the pilots present were new enough, raw enough, to suspect that normal military protocols were in place. But the pilot’s wardroom was behind Bulkhead Eight, deep in the fighter wing’s territory, and the unique culture of the Alliance’s attack squadrons was in full effect, including what looked like a disturbing lack of propriety when it came to senior officers.

“C’mon, Thunder, give me a break…” It was common behind Bulkhead Eight to refer to pilots by their call signs. Stockton turned and looked back toward Dauntless’s strike force commander. The two were buddies, but they were pilots too, and friendship didn’t prevent them from giving each other shit whenever possible.

Jamison smiled and moved his eyes over the pilots at the table. They were mostly from Green Squadron. “I guess you bored Blue Squadron to death already.” Stockton was the Blues’ commander.

Stockton frowned, but he didn’t respond.

“Did he get to your people yet, Ice?” Jamison turned and looked across the room. Lieutenant Tillis “Ice” Krill was sitting—more accurately, he was lying—on a small couch, watching a vid.

“No way, Thunder. I’m not letting him anywhere near my Yellows.”

Krill and Stockton were rivals in Dauntless’s fighter wing, and they were the two best pilots as well…though which was number one and which was number two was a contentious subject. It was a rivalry that had spread to their respective Blue and Yellow squadrons.

Jamison laughed. Then he walked over and sat in one of the empty chairs. “Seriously, guys…I’m a little worried about this run we’re on. I don’t know what’s out there, but I do know Dauntless is the only warship worth the name within fifteen jumps. So, whatever we run into, we’re going to be alone. I need your squadrons sharp, ready for anything.”

“My Blues were born ready.” Stockton’s voice was cocky, but Jamison knew for all the pilot’s wild behavior, he was one of the best squadron commanders in the fleet. If he said his people were ready, they were ready.

“Ice?”

“Yellow Squadron is in good shape. We got a lot of exercise time in while we were deployed on the border. Even the newer guys are looking good.” A short pause. “Sharp enough to match Blue Squadron any day.”

Stockton turned, but Jamison interrupted before he could respond. “Not today, guys. Let’s put a hold on the back and forth.”

“You’re really worried, aren’t you, Kyle?” Stockton’s voice was earnest, all the arrogance gone.

“I just think we need to be ready for anything. I had a talk with the captain, and I could tell he was really on edge.”