“We’ve still got that recon head we reserved to cover Medusa in our absence,” she continued after a moment. “Limited endurance won’t be much of a problem if we can get at it for regular service, so we can go ahead and deploy it in high orbit to cover the far side of the planet and use our onboard instrumentation to feed the ground center from this side. If we have to pull out, the air-search radar we save with the survey sats can revert to covering space traffic in our sector.”

“Who were you planning to put in command ground-side, Ma’am?” McKeon asked.

“Um.” Honor drummed on the tabletop for a moment, pleased to see him engaged with the problem but wishing he’d made the next step in reassuming his responsibilities and suggested someone. He’d known most of her officers months—in some cases, years—longer than she had. But she decided to concentrate on what he was doing after their unpromising beginning and furrowed her forehead in thought.

“I think either Webster or Stromboli,” she said finally. She felt McKeon start to protest, then stop himself as he ran through the possible candidates in his own mind. “I’d really rather use Webster,” she went on, half to herself and half to him. “He’s younger, but I think he’s more aggressive and confident. Unfortunately, we need someone with a background in astrogation and traffic control, and that means Stromboli.”

“What about Ensign Tremaine?” McKeon countered. Tremaine was Fearless’s boat bay control officer and something of a prodigy in the management of his assets, but Honor shook her head.

“Not for the controller’s slot. And we need someone senior enough to assume overall command of the detachment, ground-side and upstairs, if Fearless has to pull out. I’d prefer to kill two birds with one stone and make that our control officer. Besides, I think we’ll need Tremaine to manage the actual inspection flights.”

“That’ll bump Panowski to acting astrogator,” McKeon mused, tapping a fingertip on his memo pad. Then he surprised both Honor and himself with a grin. “Actually, I think that might be good for him, Ma’am. He’s got a tendency to coast unless someone keeps after him, and Max has been too easy on him.”

“In that case, let’s definitely make it Stromboli,” Honor said, “with Tremaine as his exec. We’ll need a few good POs to command the small craft, and I’d like them to have some experience in customs work, if possible. Do we have anyone who does?”

McKeon turned to one of the conference table’s full-sized terminals and tapped the query into it. Then he shook his head.

“Sorry, Ma’am. Chief Killian did a stint as the regular helmsman for an SD’s boarding officer two commissions ago, but that’s as close as we’ve got.”

“And I am not going to give up Chief Killian.” Honor frowned, then smiled. “I think I may have another idea, though.” She depressed an intercom key.

“Officer of the watch,” Lieutenant Stromboli’s voice replied.