Milla’s face darkened. “I have had some with our own lasers, and Commander Michaels showed me the basics of your own rifles.”

Brinks and Savoy looked at each other, a concerned look passing between them. Neither liked the idea of having an armed civilian at their backs.

Roberts would have agreed with them had they said anything, but he also knew that Milla brought other things to the mission. He looked at her and spoke again. “And you’re probably not OILO qualified, either.”

Milla raised her eyebrows. “OILO?”

“The shuttle has launched, Captain.”

Weston nodded, otherwise ignoring the update, and snapped another order. “Direct a new barrage at the enemy capital ship. Bracket it while the shuttle makes its approach.”

“Aye, sir.”

The weaponry officer tapped the commands into the keypad, and the low whine of charging capacitors was heard as the laser array charged for the next volley.

A moment later, the laser array flared briefly with the incidental illumination of its pulsed energy release just as the Odyssey engaged the enemy ship and its fighter complement with its smaller cannons, rockets, and laser systems.

The Drasin vessel rocked under the multiple impacts, saving itself from serious damage by reversing engines and slipping back past the dispersion range of the Odyssey’s weapons. As it did so, Lieutenant Samuels slipped her shuttle through the opening the Odyssey had prepared for her and rocketed for the planet ahead.

“The shuttle has broken through, Captain.”

Weston nodded. “ETA to pulse torpedo recharge?”

“Thirty-eight minutes, sir.”

Weston growled low in his throat, causing several bridge officers to pale and studiously examine their stations.

“Christ, Samuels!” Brinks yelled as his armored body was slammed into the restraints for the eighth time in as many seconds. “Cut me some slack back here! I’m not as fond of acceleration bruises as you pilots!”

Samuels just grinned, showing her teeth as she favored the big man with a glance over her shoulder. Several other soldiers groaned at the sight and muttered amongst themselves. Samuels had been something of a legend in their circles, a truly insane pilot who did anything to get her squad into and out of the worst-possible missions imaginable. The only thing worse than her smiling during a flight was when she showed her teeth.

Samuels turned back to the controls, her eye flickering wistfully toward the distant flashes that marked the area of space where she knew the Archangels were fighting for their lives. A moment later, she hardened her eyes and turned back to the assault team.

“We’re picking up signs of fighting near the capital on the southern continent!” the young pilot yelled back to where the fighting teams were preparing their equipment. “I’m moving into a geo-sync. Red light is off. We’re at yellow now!”

Milla watched as the military people continued their work with cool precision, not bothering to respond to the announcement. The young pilot didn’t seem to expect any answer, either; she turned back to her piloting and focused her attention on the instrument displays in front of her.