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stretcher. Rex stayed with her, ignoring the shouting and cheering. As Hawkins reached the Foss brothers, he whistled a loud shriek that caught their attention.
    "Enough! Where is Ensign Lewis?"
    They stopped the banter for now, though the Foss brothers continued to speak quietly and occasionally laughed. Hawkins left them and walked up to Travis' fighter. The group spoke quietly to themselves as he examined the craft. Travis and Jaren moved alongside him as he ran his fingers along the fuselage. Finally, he stopped at a section that had sustained three heavy hits and looked back at them.
    "So, what the hell happened out there?"
    The brothers’ smiles vanished in an instant.
    "Uh...what?" Travis asked, "You saw we got five between us, right?"
    Hawkins shook his head.
    "Yeah, I watched the combat footage, same as everybody else. It all went fine, and you followed protocol until the last thirty seconds. Two Mokku fighters broke away from the fight while the last medium fighter went for Cardigan Bay's engines.
    Travis puffed himself up, trying to look even bigger and more threatening than normal. Hawkins was not impressed. He lifted his hand and shook his head.
    "Don't go there, Ensign. Don't even think about it."
    He then rubbed his forehead while still shaking his head.
    "Nate continued to pursue the remaining threat with a crippled fighter and no weapons. He rammed the last fighter, while the two of you were busy chasing a few easy kills."
    Everyone was now silent. Both groups had lost people since coming aboard, and there were only ten of them left. Jack was the first casualty, and that had hit Nate and his friends hard. Now the privileged OTC cadets that had been little more than their rivals had lost two of their number. Three dead from thirteen pilots was enough to cripple a squadron, yet they were in no worse shape than Thunder and Corsair Squadrons, both of whom had taken a heavy beating in the fighting around the Gas Mines.
    Hawkins might be an ensign, just like the rest of the Knighthawks, but he was the Squadron Leader and Nate his deputy. That gave him authority over the rest, and more important, placed responsibility for all of them in his hands.
    "You two separated four times in the fight, each time leaving the others vulnerable while you sort fame and glory. Your fighters took the hits, hits they didn't need to take, and now you've left the Squadron short on fighters."
    Travis started to speak, but Hawkins lifted his finger to his mouth to silence him. He then signalled to a senior technician walking along the left side of the fighter and making notes on his wrist-mounted Secpad unit.
    "Sergeant, what's your assessment?"
    The man was young for his rank, but his eyes betrayed knowledge and experience beyond any of the pilots. He shook his head and sighed before pointing to the holes in the fuselage.
    "This fighter has sustained more than forty hits, including terminal damage to the avionics, the port side gun, and fuel system. She's out of action until we get back to port."
    He moved his attention to Travis.
    "Sir, in future I suggest you don't let them shoot at you quite as much. Any one of these hits could have killed you and your fighter."
    With a quick salute he moved back to his work, and Ensign Hawkins turned his attention back to the brothers.
    "You both took chances, unnecessary chances so that you could rack up kills, and I will not have than in my squadron. Understood?"
    They answered him in the affirmative, but both were now much quieter. At that point, Hawkins turned around and increased his volume so the rest of the Squadron could hear.
    "Today we won a victory, a minor one, but still a victory. But there was a cost. We lost two fighters and two more took a beating. Remember, this is combat, not a simulation. We fly as one unit, and we fight to complete the mission."
    He looked back to the brothers.
    "You both showed skill and bravery today, but that means nothing if you are killed or cannot perform