Stephen “Stephanos” Michaels was Weston’s wingman in the Archangel Flight Group, or had been until Weston officially accepted command of the Odyssey. During the war, Weston, Stephanos, and a small handful of others were among the only people qualified on the specialized Archangel fighters, among the only air superiority fighters that could stand up to the new Block frontline fighter aircraft. After three years of leading the Archangels, and the end of the war, Weston had accepted the promotion with the hopes of a place to start over, somewhere that wasn’t filled with memories. At that point, Stephanos was Weston’s choice to succeed him, taking his place as the flight leader of the Archangels.

Stephanos had not changed much since their younger days. Just over six feet, with a decidedly nonregulation haircut, he had an affable quality that hung off him like a comfortable set of clothes, something that served him well in the after-hours clubs he was known to frequent. Weston knew that he had been waiting for years to take over the Angels, and Stephanos seemed pretty happy about it today.

“Hey, Steph.” Weston popped his helmet as he greeted his friend. “How are you and the others fitting in?”

Stephanos managed a humble sort of shrug that would have looked ridiculous on most anyone else, but just seemed to make him look like some good ol’ boy straight off the farm. “Nothing to complain about.”

Weston laughed. “Right. What that means is you’ve got complaints, but no one gives a damn.”

Stephanos chuckled in turn as the two old friends walked side by side to the far end of the hangar, chatting about the ship and the mission, and finally entered one of the small doors that led them to the ship’s internal lift. Inside the capsule-like pod that served to ferry the Odyssey’s crew, Weston signaled the lift to head for the ship’s command center in the forward habitat cylinder.

Weston waited, glancing at his young friend, noting his occasional nervous fidgeting. He figured that his wingman had earned the right to be nervous by now, though. They had flown alongside each other since the inception of the Archangels, eight years previously, and through some of the most vicious air battles in the history of humankind.

All that set aside, Weston could hardly fault the man when he himself was on the verge of shaking. The Odyssey was the first ship constructed that made use of the new transition drive system that was supposed to allow faster-than-light travel, and his rather public position as the flight leader of the Archangels had put him on the short list to captain her.

The pod glided to a stop in the center of the forward habitation cylinder, and Weston felt gravity return as the pod slowly matched the cylinder’s rotation before the hatch whirred open and allowed them to leave.

“Urk.” Weston staggered as he stepped off, a wave of nausea sweeping over him as his body adjusted to the cylinder’s rotation.