I can’t let that happen.

Six short hours later, I force myself out of bed, drag myself to Orcher’s platform, and drop into the seat beside his desk. I do my best to look alert, even though my brain is pounding with exhaustion.

“Rough night?” Orcher asks.

“Yeah.”

He grimaces sympathetically. “You’ll adjust soon enough. Plenty of people have trouble on their first trip.”

He grabs his coffee and sips at it. I perk up when its aroma wafts to my nose. Bersivo Blend, a rich brew manufactured on Artaans.

“Would you like a cup?”

“Yes, please.”

“How do you like it?”

“Almost white.”

While Orcher is in his private office, I stare down at Station Control. Captain Fallsten is sitting atop her raised chair, one hand propping up her head. She twists a few strands of her frizzled ginger hair in the other.

As if she can feel me watching, Captain Fallsten twists around in her seat and looks up at me. She pushes herself up, shouts something at one of the station pilots, and climbs the ramps to Orcher’s platform. She reaches it just as Orcher walks back out with my coffee. I take a quick sip: he added too much cream. I wanted more of a tan color rather than white, and it’s a bit sweeter than I’m used to.

Captain Fallsten eyes my cup disapprovingly, then turns on Orcher. “Since when did we start serving recruits the private stocks, David?”

He ignores her, and nods at me to keep drinking.

“There’s plenty of coffee in the court,” she goes on. “It’s a waste of money, this special blend. Can’t even taste the difference.”

“Yet you’ve never been known for your good taste, Miranda.”

She scowls at him. “I can name a dozen other ways to spend our extra shims, and not one of them involves”—she raises two fingers—“good tasting coffee.”

Orcher sits forward and sighs. “When’s the last time you slept?”

Captain Fallsten shifts walks around the desk and stares over the Bridge. “Properly? Last Friday. Then you forced that firstie on me. I told you, David. I told you I didn’t need another pilot. All the shifts were covered. Now I’ve had to screw with Gavin’s schedule and free up a panel just to fit Haverns in.”

She shakes her head, all the while looking straight ahead. Orcher rubs his face and chooses not to respond.

“Forty-nine, David?” Captain Fallsten turns on him and bends over the desk. “What were you thinking, taking forty-nine recruits on this trip? Horizon needs the ones with the brains, not us. And Shield… Shield needs every man it can get. Mannard’s in a bad position. It doesn’t matter whether he approves Narviid’s independent fleet—”