On the Odyssey , Captain Elara stared at her screen. The Skipper wasn’t docked. It was fused . The rookie had used the impact itself as a braking mechanism, welding her own ship to theirs. It was the ugliest, most brilliant maneuver Elara had ever seen.
And Talia smiled, fired up her dented little ship, and danced among the stars one more time. the rookie talia
“Exactly,” Voss said, not looking up from his console. “In a gravity well that chaotic, your precious instruments are useless. Instinct is all that’s left. Move, Rookie.” On the Odyssey , Captain Elara stared at her screen
“She’s insane,” Mendez’s voice came over the tactical channel. “She’s going to pancake against the accretion disk.” The rookie had used the impact itself as
Talia’s heart hammered against her ribs as she strapped into the Skipper . The ship groaned, as if sensing its own inadequacy. She punched the throttle, and the familiar, terrifying lurch threw her back. The stars stretched into needles of light.
The rookie’s name was Talia, and she was the worst pilot in the Galactic Fleet. That wasn't just an opinion; it was a statistical fact, stamped on her file in bold red letters. Her ship, the Stardust Skipper , had more dents than a recycled asteroid, and her landing record was a running joke at the Ceres Base mess hall.