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pointblank order. And even then, she’d argue as hard as she could before giving in.
    She flipped off the com and stared down at her screen, moving her finger across, finalizing the scanning plan. Then she pushed a button and sent the instructions to her squadron commanders. Twelve ships were enough to do a first class sweep of a planet, especially since Admiral Compton had relaxed the restrictions he’d placed on the scouting formations, allowing them to get close enough to get some serious data.
    “I’m sending you nav instructions, Lieutenant. We will take point for the squadron.” She knew Greta Hurley would have scolded her a little for putting her bird in the lead. But then Hurley used to drive Augustus Garret crazy with her antics, didn’t she? There were rumors throughout the fleet that Garret had ordered Hurley’s pilot to keep her back from the fighting. If true, it had been a valiant effort, but a failed one. Fujin couldn’t recall any instance of the fleet’s strike force commander hanging back in a fight.
    “Yes, Commander.” Grant Wainwright’s response was sharp, crisp. Fujin couldn’t help but resent the young officer, just a bit. He’d taken her place at the throttle, after all. But she was glad to have him, and she had to admit, he was a hell of a pilot.
    “Whenever you are ready, Lieutenant.”
    “I’m always ready, Commander.” Wainwright pushed the throttle forward, and the force of 2g slammed into everyone aboard.
    Fujin was struggling to hold back a smile. Are pilots getting cockier? Or am I just getting old? She tried to brush the thought aside…she hadn’t even reached her thirtieth birthday. But it was still there, nagging at her. She’d been every bit as brash as Wainwright once, and as quick with a smart-assed reply. So when did I change, end up on the other side? Perhaps there is a limit to how much combat and death can could see and still remain young…at least inside .
    “Just focus on leading the squadron in, Lieutenant,” she said, reminding herself as she did of her first squadron commander. They’d called him T-Rex, for the way he’d unleashed on anyone who’d failed to meet his exacting standards. My God , she thought, suddenly realizing how far she’d come from the cocky young pilot she’d been then. I wonder what they call me.
    “Yes, Commander.”
    The response was textbook, sharp, respectable, spot on. But all she heard was ‘yes, T-Rex.”
     
    *    *    *
     
    “I have the results of Commander Fujin’s scouting report. I have called this meeting to review these findings and determine if this system is the place to conduct a more extensive investigation, one involving a protracted expedition to the surface.” Compton sat in his chair at the head of the table, his eyes flitting around, gauging the reactions of those present. He caught the look in Cutter’s eye immediately.
    “Am I to understand that you are considering allowing a research team to conduct an exploration?” There was surprise in the scientist’s voice, but mostly excitement.
    “Perhaps, Hieronymus. Indeed, I still retain all of my earlier concerns…” He looked around the table. “…you are all familiar with them. But events appear to have forced my hands. The situation with our provisions requires that we land a team on a habitable world to grow crops to supplement out fleet-produced foodstuffs. The alternative is…well, there is no alternative.” None I can live with…
    “As the operation will require eight to ten weeks, we have little time to spare. The supply situation is rapidly becoming dire—so we must select a planet very soon. Preferably immediately. We may elect to land the expedition here…or move on to the next system and explore the worlds we find there. But I am reluctant to wait any longer than absolutely necessary.”
    A soft murmur rippled around the table. They had all known food would be a problem eventually, but Compton had just laid it out in front