“Shit,” Zakota said, abandoning his kiss to grab his helmet. “You can’t get thirty seconds to smooch with a fellow pilot around here.”

Katie snorted and turned back to the console, navigating them to the ground to rest next to the other shuttle.

“How far out are you boys?” Zakota asked, pulling his helmet back on. “Did you plant Hierax’s bombs?”

“Yes,” Orion said, “but—”

The sounds of weapons firing interrupted him, followed by a thunderous boom. The shuttle deck shuddered, and Zakota realized how close that explosion had been.

“I’ve got to get to the other shuttle,” he said, giving Katie a quick pat on the shoulder and lunging for the hatch. “There’s still atmo out there, so you don’t need to raise the barrier.”

“Gotcha. Enjoy your guts,” she called after him.

Zakota grinned, despite the insanity of the situation and that his crewmates were sprinting toward the alcove with enemies firing at their asses. As he ran out of Katie’s shuttle and around his, he decided he would get Sagitta to write her that recommendation for one of the flight academies, even if he had to promise the captain free luck talismans for the rest of his life. A woman who didn’t shy away from death, destruction, and guts was a keeper.

When he reached his shuttle, Zakota found that Katie’s prediction of a mess wasn’t far from the truth. Soot decorated the interior walls, along with more than a few chunks of meat and fur. Disgusting. At least the damn Zi’i were dead.

Leaving the hatch open for the men, he sprang over the mangled remains and fired up the engine.

“Orion?” Zakota asked. “Are you going to make it or do you need help?”

What help he could provide, he didn’t know. It wasn’t as if he could maneuver the shuttle through the hatchway and down the corridor toward the men. He had the minimal weapons built into his combat armor. Maybe if he could catch some Zi’i with their backs to him, they might do some good.

“We’re coming,” Orion grunted—panted. Weapons fire continued to sound over the comm. “But slower than… slow, damn it.”

“How much time until the bombs go off?” Zakota didn’t want to distract the men, but if there wasn’t much time, he could send Katie ahead. They didn’t need two shuttles to carry six men.

Orion didn’t respond, though Zakota continued to hear weapons fire over the comm. Then a cry of agony sounded.

He gripped the console hard enough to dent it. He raked his mind for something he could do to help. He had to do something, even if his weapons were paltry.

Zakota left the helm and sprinted out of the shuttle, skidding on the smooth floor as he turned, and almost ran into a Zi’i that jumped into the hatchway, its back to him.

He barely managed to keep from crying out in surprise. The Zi’i reared up on two legs and swiped at something in the corridor in front of him.

Zakota popped his DR-70s out of his armor, stepped back, and fired into the alien’s broad, furred back.

The Zi’i shrieked and whirled toward him. Before it could strike, something slammed into it from behind. Smoke wafted up around its shoulders, and its eyes rolled back in its head.

The alien toppled forward, and Zakota had to spring back to avoid being crushed.

Star Guardians in black armor jumped over the body and raced into the alcove. Two of the men carried wounded comrades over their shoulders.

“Who let you out of your shuttle?” someone barked—Hammer.

He grabbed Zakota’s shoulder and spun him toward the craft.

“Someone had to come out and save your asses,” Zakota said over his shoulder while sprinting toward the shuttle.

All the men raced after him, even though half had come in Katie’s shuttle, and she had the hatch open. It wasn’t any farther away, but they made their choice.

A part of Zakota wanted to order them into the other shuttle so Katie wouldn’t feel abandoned, but there wasn’t time. He sprang through the hatch of his craft and went straight to the controls, lifting off before everyone was in. The last two men jumped to make it inside, but their armor made it easy. Someone slammed the hatch shut.

“Go, Katie,” Zakota barked into the comm. “I’ve got everyone.”

“You first,” she said. “You’ve got everyone.”

It took him a second to realize what she was saying, that he should fly out first because he had more people in his shuttle, that they had to make sure he escaped.

That didn’t sit well with him—she was the last person who should be allowed to die in here, since she hadn’t signed a contract and wasn’t getting paid to risk her life—but again, there wasn’t time to mention it.

Instead, he left the alcove and swooped into the maintenance shaft. He did make sure her shuttle followed his before accelerating to full speed—or as full speed as he could go in the tight tunnel.

“I see Zakota redecorated while we were gone,” Hammer said, lowering the Star Guardian he carried over his shoulder.

Another unmoving man was laid on the deck. Zakota couldn’t tell who was who. Even Orion wore borrowed Star Guardian armor, so they all looked alike. He could tell that the two men who’d been carried weren’t moving. Gouges and dents marred everyone’s armor, but the unconscious men—Zakota hoped they were only unconscious—also had dented helmets. A crack split someone’s faceplate, too, even though the liquid glass was supposed to be damn near impenetrable.

“Is that blood on the walls?” Mikolos asked.

“I’m surprised the Zi’i didn’t think of this decor on their own,” Hammer said.

Zakota ignored them. He was too busy watching the route ahead and making sure Katie kept following him. She was right behind. Good.

“How long do we have?” he asked. “And are the warheads somewhere that’ll just knock out a generator and the power for this thing, or will it be more dramatic?”

He frowned as the running lights played over rubble and twisted metal in the shaft ahead. The sensors confirmed a blockage.

“Damn it,” Zakota said, the memory of the green glowing grenade flashing into his mind.

It had blown up spectacularly, but it had been so far down the shaft from the shuttle that he hadn’t worried about it at the time. A mistake.

“Uh, Orion knew the countdown,” Mikolos said, waving to one of the men on the deck. “He set it. But he got knocked out.”

Zakota slowed down far enough away from the blockage to fire at it without risking damage to the shuttle. Pieces flew free, and metal melted, but he feared that clearing the wreckage this way would take too long. He couldn’t see through the pile to the other side, and the sensors struggled with accuracy in here. The blockage might be a few feet deep or it could stretch the rest of the way out.

“Your butt is in my way,” came Katie’s voice over the comm, startling Zakota.

“We have a problem,” he said.

“I think it’s less than two minutes now,” Mikolos said.

Sweat dripped down the sides of Zakota’s face.

“I see that,” Katie said. “Scoot up.”

There wasn’t room for her to fly under him, so he wasn’t sure what she had in mind, but he nudged his craft upward. Her shuttle lowered, belly resting on the bottom of the shaft. She joined him in firing at the blockage, her beams blasting past, scant inches from the bottom of his shuttle.

“That’s a little close for comfort, Katie,” Zakota said, though he couldn’t truly object. He clenched a fist as he watched their combined weapons bite into the rubble, blasting it away. Would it be enough?

“I’m clearing you by a good six inches.”

“You’re practically shaving the hair off my belly.”

“If your belly hair is six inches long, you need to get that shit waxed.”

“I’m starting to like her,” Mikolos said. “But less than a minute.”

“This isn’t working,” Zakota said, even as he held down the weapons button. “Mikolos, you’re the hobbyist blacksmith. How do I melt this much wreckage really fast?”

“Uh, with a three-thousand-degree furnace.”

A jolt shook the deck, and Zakota gripped the console to hang on.

“What the—” He gaped at the sensors.

Katie was pushing her shuttle past him from underneath.

“I need you to open your hatch,” she said. “And tell me there’s still atmosphere out here.”

“There’s still atmosphere, but what are you doing?” he demanded even as she scraped past him, flew ahead, jammed her shuttle into the blockage hard enough to dent the nose and stick it there.

As he gaped, her hatch opened, and she jumped out. She sprinted along the bottom of the shaft toward him, waving wildly for him to lower his shuttle.

“Qat’s blessing,” Zakota whispered, realizing what she’d done. “She must have hit the self-destruct button. Mikos, get that hatch open.”

He needn’t have given the order. Mikolos and Hammer were already there, shoving the hatch up as Katie reached them. Zakota started to lower the shuttle, but she jumped up, and the men caught her hands.

Before her feet touched the deck, Mikolos had the hatch closed.

“Better back up, Zakota,” Bystrom said.

But there was no time. The shaft exploded in orange and yellow, and a wave of raw power slammed into the shuttle. It jerked upward, the nose crashing into the ceiling of the shaft. Had there been room, they would have tumbled backward in circles.

Through it all, Zakota stared at the sensor display. Smoke blocked the camera view, but the sensors informed them that the way ahead was clear now. Only pieces of the other shuttle remained—and only pieces of the debris that had blocked the way.

Zakota yanked the nose down and fired the thrusters as an alarm screeched a protest. They’d taken damage by being so close to that shuttle when it blew, no doubt about it. But there was nothing to be done now.

He thrust his fingers forward in the gel, maximum acceleration. He didn’t care if they bounced off the walls all the way out of there. They were getting out before Hierax’s weapons went off.

The shuttle shimmied and shuddered, but he kept that nose pointing toward the exit.

A square of space and stars came into view in the distance.

“The transmission,” Orion blurted from the deck, his head up.

“Shit.” Zakota had forgotten, and yes, the sensors showed that the forcefield was back up.

His fingers shook as he reached for the comm controls. They couldn’t have more than a few seconds left. If that.

He transmitted the code—the song—whatever it was, then slowed down. He didn’t have much choice. The stars spread before him, but he was looking out through a window. He gulped as he spotted wreckage floating within view, a fleet dreadnought that had been obliterated.

“It’s down,” Zakota said, as the forcefield disappeared.

But immediately after, a flare of energy registered on the sensors. It came from deep within the weapons platform. The first warhead detonating?

He shoved his fingers into the gel again, full speed.

They shot out of the weapons platform, but he kept his eyes on the sensor display, not permitting himself a sense of victory yet.

A shaky-looking Katie joined him at the console. She didn’t touch anything, merely looked at the various displays. That reminded him that he needed to pay attention to ships out here as well as what might be happening back in the cube.

His concerns that the entire fleet might have been destroyed while they had been inside were alleviated. Though the battle appeared much the way it had when they’d gone in.

“Did it work?” Katie pointed at the cube on the sensors. “Did the warheads explode?”

“I think at least one of them did.” Zakota glanced back at the men.

Most of them had removed their helmets, including the battered Orion. His eyes looked bleary and out of focus, but he watched the display intently. All of them did, except for one man still unconscious on the deck. Renshu?

“I’m not sure if it was enough,” Zakota said, turning back to the display. Energy readings still came from the cube.

Another of the rockets was moving, adjusting its position to aim at Dethocoles.

He groaned. Had all of that been for nothing? All their fighting? Arkyn’s sacrifice?

The rocket halted abruptly. The sensors showed power fluctuating within the cube—it almost pulsed with energy.

“Looks like trouble ahead,” Katie said.

Another Zi’i warship flew toward them, looking like it meant to cut them off. Or plow right through them.

Zakota dipped the nose, taking them downward in the hope that the warship had simply been on that path and wouldn’t change course to follow. What was one little damaged shuttlecraft to them?

But the warship did indeed follow them.

Zakota tried to pick up speed as he angled toward a trio of ships battling in the distance. Maybe he could brush off the warship there, lure it into that skirmish. But an ominous groan came from the rear of the shuttle, followed by a resounding snap.

“Any chance that was just someone cracking his knuckles?” Zakota asked, though he could already feel power ebbing. Shoving his fingers deeper into the gel did nothing.

“I’m too tired to crack my knuckles,” Orion said. “Maybe Juanita will crack them for me when we get back.”

“Being your girlfriend is highly rewarding, I see,” Katie said.

“Is the Falcon all right?”

“Uh, I’m busy looking at this warship right now.” Zakota hadn’t had a chance to check on the rest of the battlefield or to locate the Falcon 8, but maybe this would be a good time. He tapped the comm, opening the channel to the ship. “Captain Sagitta? Are you out there? We planted the warheads, but we’re damaged and need—”

Light flashed behind them, flooding the displays, and a burst of static took over the comm.

“Great,” Zakota muttered.

“It is great,” Katie said, clasping his armored forearm. “Look!”

She pointed her chin at the weapons platform. On the camera display, it appeared the same, but the sensors showed that the surge of energy had originated within it, and now that energy was gone. All trace of energy readings was gone.

“Maybe we got it, after all,” he murmured.

“The weapons platform?” Orion asked. “Please say we utterly destroyed it.”

“At the least, someone knocked out all the lights.”

“That doesn’t sound as heroic as utter destruction.”

“So long as it can’t fire any more rockets at Dethocoles,” Menekrates said.

Zakota had heard from all the men except Renshu now, who was still unconscious on the deck. Hopefully only unconscious. Zakota didn’t want to lose any more people.

“I think we may have succeeded at that,” Zakota said, eyeing the cube on the sensors, “but we may not live for the victory celebration.”

“Way to be a downer, Zakota,” Katie said.

“Sorry, but I’m losing power here, and that warship is gaining on us.”

The thrusters stopped working completely. Without them, Zakota couldn’t turn, and he couldn’t accelerate. They were dead in the water.

Zakota tried the comm again. “Captain Sagitta? Are you out there? We could use some help right now.”

He poked at the sensors, broadening their range and trying to pick up friendly ships nearby. If Sagitta was busy, Zakota would settle for being rescued by the space fleet. Or a freighter. Or a mining raft. Or a casino cruiser. Anything, really.

“Damn it,” Orion said, “I didn’t think to say goodbye to Juanita. Not a real goodbye. Maybe I could record something.”

“Just don’t mention knuckle cracking,” Katie said.

“I should send something to my family too,” Orion said, not acknowledging the joke.

“Don’t start your eulogy yet.” Katie pointed to two ships that had come into range behind the warship. They were flying fast, heading directly for it. “Aren’t those fire falcons?”

Zakota pulled his attention from the comm. “Yes, two of them.” He clenched a fist. “They might just make it in time.”

He and the others held their breaths as the warship raced toward them while the fire falcons raced after it.

Just as the Zi’i vessel came into firing range, it reversed thrusters to head back in the opposite direction. The captain must have decided the Star Guardian ships were an immediate threat and had to be dealt with first. And he was right.

Normally, a Zi’i warship would be a more than equal match for a couple of fire falcons, but the pilots at the helms of the Star Guardian ships engaged in some inspired flying.

“That Sage?” Orion asked.

All of the men except Renshu came forward to watch the battle on the display.

“The Falcon 8,” Zakota confirmed, “and the… 5. Huh, never thought I would see those two working together.”

“Why not?” Katie asked as the fire falcons swooped around the warship, pummeling it with fire and almost miraculously avoiding return fire with their deft evasive maneuvers. “Aren’t all Star Guardians on the same side?”

“Technically, yes, but Captain Sagitta is not a fan of Captain Ares, the only Star Guardian commander who didn’t come out of the military ranks.”

“What ranks did he come out of?”

“He was a pirate.”

“A very cruel, calculating, and loathed pirate,” Menekrates grumbled.

“So your government rewarded him by giving him command of a ship in your elite forces?” Katie asked.

“Nobody at our lowly ranks knows what really happened behind the scenes, but for years and years, neither the space fleet nor the Star Guardians could outsmart him and catch him. Sagitta even took a stab at it when he first got his command. He did manage to destroy Ares’s favorite ship, but the pirate had a bunch of others stashed away, so it wasn’t a big hardship for him. Presumably. Anyway, after innocent Confederation citizens suffered more devastating losses to the pirate, one of the archons had the bright idea of offering him amnesty—and a job. Nobody truly thought he would accept, but to everyone’s bewilderment, he did. He’s had command of the Falcon 5 for the last two years, and he’s caught a lot of criminals. It’s probably easy when you know all the dirt on all the criminals out there already.”

A few explosions arose from the hull of the Zi’i warship, and it soon stopped maneuvering. The fire falcons continued to pour their en-bolts into it, as if they suspected it of playing dead. Or maybe Ku and the Falcon 5’s weapons officer were simply taking out some frustrations.

The shuttle’s sensor readings showed the warship’s energy output plummeting. Soon, the craft drifted in space, another derelict for the graveyard forming in the system.

The fire falcons spun away from the warship, and an instant later, it blew up. With great gusto. Zakota shouldn’t have been surprised, but he jumped, nonetheless. So much for his thought of it taking a place in the graveyard.

“Guess their pilots learned on the same flight simulator the shuttle has,” Katie said.

“I’m going to find it promising that they felt the need to self-destruct,” Zakota said. “Maybe they’ve figured out the cube is out of commission. Maybe the tides have turned.”

He tapped at the console, hoping to bring up long-range sensors so he could count enemy ships versus friendly ships—and see if the Zi’i still had the gate blockaded—but at his first touch, something snapped, and smoke hissed from a crack.

Katie stepped back, eyeing the console warily. Since Zakota wore his armor, he wasn’t worried about fire. He tried tapping again. More smoke wafted up, and something sizzled under the panel.

“I don’t think this shuttle liked having another shuttle blown up twenty feet away from it,” he observed.

“We’re lucky we made it out,” Orion said.

Katie shook her head at them. “You guys aren’t doing it right.”

“What?” Zakota asked.

“My quick thinking and willingness to risk my life allowed us to escape. You should be thanking me. Perhaps planning a ceremony. There should be a medal. And cake. Definitely cake.”

Zakota grinned. She was right.

“I’ll be happy to reward you,” he said, wriggling his eyebrows at her. “As soon as I shower and change into something more alluring than my armor.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “Is that required to bake me a cake?”

“I don’t think she wants anything that you keep in your armor, Zakota,” Hammer said with a noisy snort. “Alluring.” Another snort.

“So I’d be better off checking with Sagitta about medals?” Zakota asked.

“Or recommendations to flight school.” Katie patted him on the arm.

The comm spat static. “Zi’i shuttle, who’s in charge over there?”

Zakota waved smoke away and opened the channel. That didn’t sound like anyone from the Falcon 8.

“This is Lieutenant Zakota,” he said politely, not sure who he was addressing.

“You have life support? Our sensors show your status as tenuous.”

“Sounds about right,” Zakota said, though he hadn’t checked the environmental computer yet. Maybe it would be better if he didn’t. “We’re hoping to be nobly rescued before we run out of air.”

“Noble rescuing is what we’ve been doing all day long. If Sagey can’t get his airlock working, we’ll be happy to come get you.”

“Sagey?” Zakota mouthed.

Was that Captain Ares? He couldn’t imagine anyone of lesser rank giving Sagitta a nickname like that.

Orion also raised his eyebrows at the nickname.

“Our airlock isn’t damaged,” came Sagitta’s cool voice as he popped onto the channel. “We’ll latch on to you shortly, Zakota. Your assistance isn’t required in this matter, Captain Ares.”

“I guess we’ve already assisted you as much as your ego can take for one day, eh?”

“We assisted you first, as I recall.”

“You think you did, but I was playing dead to lure those warships in. I had them right where I wanted.”

“No doubt that’s why your surgeon is communicating with my doctor, begging to borrow one of our medical robots.”

“Someone slipped on the deck and stubbed a toe. It was tragic.”

Sagitta did not bother responding. Zakota almost wished he had. He hadn’t heard many people talk to Sage as if he was a pesky coworker rather than a legendary war hero who deserved the greatest of respect, certainly nobody under the rank of admiral.

Captain Ares let it drop, too, wheeling his fire falcon away and heading toward Dethocoles where ships continued to skirmish with each other. If Zakota’s sensors hadn’t been smoking, he could have checked to see how the battle was going. He hoped that he and his little team had done enough.

Katie stepped closer and leaned against his shoulder. Maybe she would be interested in seeing his unarmored allure, after all.

“How are they going to rescue us when this shuttle doesn’t have an airlock?” she asked.

“The Falcon’s airlock tube can attach to another standard lock, but it can also seal against the hull of any other ship. And then they send some of Hierax’s engineers over with a magtorch.” Zakota mimicked carving a hole. “That’s actually how we usually board ships. Criminals don’t typically invite us in.”

“Imagine.”

“Is she wounded,” Bystrom whispered, “or is she voluntarily leaning on Zakota?”

“Must be wounded,” Hammer whispered back.

Neither was whispering softly, so it was hard to ignore them.

“Maybe he charmed her with one of his witch hexes,” Hammer suggested.

“He’s a shaman, not a witch.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Witches are girls. I’ve seen him in the shower. He has hairy man parts.”

“Gross.”

“I thought so.”

Zakota rolled his eyes heavenward, not that there was any guarantee the heavens were above them right now—especially with their shuttle floating along all cattywampus.

“Were the people in your military back home like this?” he asked Katie, hoping she hadn’t heard them, or at least hoping to distract her if she had.

She smirked. “Oddly similar. Actually, I think your people may cuss less.”

“Maybe the chip doesn’t translate all of our cussing.” Zakota touched her ear. “I assure you, it’s not infrequent. I cussed vitriolically, vehemently, and vociferously when you flew your shuttle into the rubble and tried to blow yourself up.”

“That wasn’t quite my plan.”

“I didn’t know that. I was concerned.”

“I’m glad you care.” Her smirk softened into a warm smile, and she gazed into his eyes.

Zakota thought of their earlier and far too abbreviated kiss. He shifted so that she leaned against his chest instead of his shoulder, and she snuggled in amenably. He leaned down to resume the kiss, pleased when she lifted her chin to meet his lips.

“She is definitely wounded,” Bystrom said.

“In the head,” Mikolos agreed.

This time, Zakota had no trouble ignoring them.

When Katie followed Zakota through the airlock tube and into the Falcon 8’s cargo hold, she didn’t expect to find Captain Sagitta waiting there. She tripped over her own feet and stumbled, catching herself on Zakota’s back. Wasn’t Sagitta supposed to be on the bridge? Captaining? The battle was still raging, wasn’t it?

“Sir,” Zakota greeted the captain, wariness in his voice. He probably hadn’t expected to have to explain Katie right away. Maybe he’d hoped to slip her back on the fire falcon without the captain ever knowing.

Not that Katie would have allowed that. She wanted Sagitta to know that she had helped with the piloting. How was she going to get a recommendation from him if he didn’t know?

“I thought so,” Sagitta said, pinning Katie with his gaze as the combat team walked into the hold after her. Renshu was awake now, leaning heavily on Hammer.

“You knew I was flying the second shuttle and that I heroically slew Zi’i warriors and robot vehicles while saving the day?” Katie gave him a frank, unabashed look. She wasn’t in his command, so she didn’t have to “sir” him or tiptoe around him.

Sagitta looked at Zakota. “Explain.”

Zakota shrugged. “She had more experience flying the Zi’i shuttle than Orion did, sir.”

“Explain why she was on the warship to start with.”

“Uhm.” Zakota still had his helmet off, and he scratched his jaw. “I think she just forgot to leave when we parted ways.”

“Forgot.” Sagitta didn’t look pleased, though he appeared more irritated with Zakota than with Katie.

It was as if she was some ignorant child who couldn’t be blamed for her actions. But Zakota, as her nanny, could be held responsible.

It didn’t escape her notice that the combat team was slinking away, clearly hoping to avoid notice—and any of the blame. Only Mikolos remained behind her in an attention stance, waiting for orders.

“I wanted to fly and help with the battle,” Katie said, drawing Sagitta’s attention back to her. “So I did. And I did it well. As I knew I could. I’m hoping you’ll review whatever video recordings might have survived—” which, sadly, probably weren’t many, “—or interview your men, since they were witnesses, even if they’re fleeing the scene now. You’ll see how helpful I was. I’m hoping to go to one of your civilian flight academies, and I’d appreciate it if you’d consider writing a letter of recommendation for me.”

Zakota stared at her. He looked like he might be choking on her gall. If a girl didn’t speak up for herself, who would? Nobody. She’d learned that long ago.

“I see,” Sagitta said.

What the hell did that mean?

“I’d fly with her again, sir,” Mikolos offered.

“We’re not entirely in the clear yet,” Sagitta said, looking at his men. “We’re heading in to deal with the Zi’i ships still close to Dethocoles, and we’re doing repairs as we fly. Report to engineering to see how you can help Hierax.”

“Yes, sir,” Mikolos said.

Zakota echoed him, but hesitated before running off, meeting Katie’s eyes first.

She nodded to him. She had no idea where she would be sent, but doubted Sagitta was going to take her behind the crates to flog her.

Sagitta’s eyes narrowed at Zakota’s hesitation.

Zakota left, jogging to catch up with Mikolos. Katie was tempted to jog off, too, especially since Sagitta had nobody else left to narrow his eyes at. But she wouldn’t get her recommendation by fleeing.

“Which academy?”

“What?”

“Which flight academy do you want a letter for?”

“I haven’t had time to look up the different ones yet. Or figure out how I’ll pay for it.”

One of his eyebrows lifted upward, as if he couldn’t believe she would come to him without this already sorted out. She thought about pointing out that there had been a war going on, but he probably didn’t appreciate excuses. Or flippancy. Katie still couldn’t believe Tala was sleeping with him. Maybe he was less steely in bed. Or maybe she liked steel.

“You may want to wait and see how reputable I end up being after all this is over,” Sagitta said. “I may not have a command any longer. I may end up in jail.”

“Do they not allow you to mail letters from jail?” She had a feeling his recommendation would carry a lot of weight even if he was dishonorably discharged.

He snorted. “You should sign up for the space fleet flight academy. You seem to have the appropriate attitude for a military pilot.”

Not the right attitude, she noted. An appropriate one. “Zakota said something similar.”

“Yes, he knows all about it. Also, the military academy is free. They even pay you for joining.”

“More or less than they pay Star Guardians?” she asked, remembering Zakota’s admissions about the pay being uninspiring.

“It’s the same pay scale.”

“Ah.” Well, free tuition would be something. She would consider it, but she wasn’t sure she had it in her to kiss butt and yes, sir everyone anymore.

“Thank you for helping my men with their mission,” Sagitta said, nodding at her before he walked out.

She almost fell over.