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about the concerns and scuttlebutt floating around the fleet about the Terra class and their
alien
technology, but she’d been a little too self absorbed at the time to really let it sink in.
    She could feel it now, see it in the way people walked. There was a hidden tension, one she suspected that few of the crew knew they harbored, even. It was visible in their body language, however, the way they walked, the way they held themselves. Her processor could pick it right out of the air, literally, in the voice stress of a dozen whispered conversations she heard in passing.
    If something happens to us, it’ll be the end for the Terra class I’ll bet,
Sorilla speculated.
    She knew the power of rumor and fear, she used it often enough to her own advantage after all. Propaganda was one of the first tools in her toolbox, and the most effective under normal conditions. Over the centuries, humans had become masters of it, to the point where it was habitually used even in peacetime on allies and citizens.
    Which brings me to something not covered in my orders,
Sorilla mused as she continued to make her way to her quarters.
I’ll have to try to pick up enough alien psychology to make that particular tool useful again.
    On Hayden she’d only been able to use that part of psychological warfare in the most basic ways. Strike and fade tactics, making it look like the jungles were haunted, those sorts of things. Honestly she didn’t even know if it worked, but it was habit and good tradecraft so she’d kept it up and taught it to her Pathfinders.
    Against human foes, it would have been effective and demoralizing. Against aliens?
    Sorilla mentally shrugged. No one had a clue.
    Going to have to fix that.
    She came to a stop in the corridor, checked the section number again, and then her location on her implanted HUD.
    Home sweet home,
Sorilla thought as she wrenched open the heavy door and stepped across the threshold, careful to preserve her shins from being barked on the knee knocker. She tossed the duffle to the floor and swung the door closed behind her.
    It was going to be a long mission, she suspected.
    *****
    “Admiral on deck!”
    “As you were,” Ruger said as he stepped over the knee knocker that separated the bridge from the corridor, walking across the open deck to where the Captain was standing.
    Captain Hiro Usagi had the air of a man about to go into battle, no matter when Ruger saw the man. Sometimes he wondered if Usagi looked like that before taking a shower or using the toilette, but those were amusing questions he kept completely to himself. There was little doubt that Usagi wouldn’t find them amusing.
    “Welcome, Admiral,” The Captain said in only very slightly accented English, just the barest hint of his native tongue’s guttural burr carrying over.
    “Thank you, Captain. Are we ready?”
    “Still taking on provisions, Sir. The last transfers from Hayden Station are scheduled to be complete by Fifteen Hundred today.”
    “Good, and we’re cleared for departure?”
    “By Sixteen Thirty hours, Sir.”
    Ruger nodded, “Excellent as always.”
    He started to turn away when the Captain lightly cleared his throat, bringing his attention back.
    Usagi’s deep voice contained a certain concern that Ruger was surprised by, he’d never heard the man use anything but the most professional tone in the past.
    “Sir,” Usagi saod, his voice dropping, “I understand you’ve assigned Major Aida to the Diplomatic Security Detail…”
    Ruger raised an eyebrow, “You know her?”
    “Of her, Sir. Fleet knows
of
her.”
    The Admiral sighed, just slightly exasperated, “Really Captain, I never took you for one to buy into that albatross nonsense.”
    Usagi stiffened, “What I buy into or choose not to buy into hardly matters. The crew is already spooked by the loss of Valkyrie as things stand, adding Aida’s reputation to the worry over the Singularity reactor is a concern.”
    “The Major is the foremost