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There could be a dozen or so members in the terrorist cell operating the burst transmitter, and she hadn't had any close quarters combat instruction since her first year at the academy, much less any practical field experience. She was a pilot, trained to navigate a star ship through a battle zone, not a grunt packing a heavy rifle and charging into firefight. Respectfully, she told the captain that there had to be others on the Azorean Grey who were better suited to lead the mission.

His response both stunned and in a way worried her. "Actually Lieutenant, you're the best pilot I have and once you locate the transmission site, you will need to get there as quickly as possible incase they try to pack up the equipment and move to a new hide out."

"I understand that, but is it necessary for me to lead the assault team?" She carefully phased her words, not wanting to appear dissenting.

Captain Aswaud gently placed his hand on her shoulder and looked at her empathetically. "Let me give you a bit of advice that is never taught at the academy. Your going to make captain someday, I know you have it in you. So when you get your own bridge, remember that you need to be prepared to take the same risks as those under your command. If you do your troops will respect you for it." Stepping back he smiled and added, "You'll be fine, I have faith in you."

The prediction by the captain had caught her off guard. Through her career up until her posting on the Azorean Grey, she had always assumed that she would eventual make command, all of her superiors had told her as much. But when it came form Aswaud, it was different in a way, almost as if it meant much more. From her first days onboard, she realized he was a confusing man; not nearly from the same mold as the other officers she had met. His command was so relaxed, cavalier in a sense. She was certain that his style was faulty and decided that she would request a transfer off his ship. The GPS was based on strict order and adherence to protocols, but Captain Aswaud was intent on doing things his own way.

But as the weeks wore on, she was impressed with the tightness of his crew, surprised by their efficiency and attention. The looseness allowed them to grow in their stations, valuing instincts and intuition as highly as rout military training. They thrived in the atmosphere of openness, relishing the confidence offered by their captain. She now realized that when she questioned his decision, she wasn't speaking out of turn, but offering an interpretation that Brice both considered and welcomed. Brice, his first name, usually the last way anyone would address a superior. But on the Azorean Grey, such informality was both acceptable and appreciated.

So when he told her that he believed that she would one day make captain, it became the most valued appraisal she had ever received. Usually, comments about her potential came form officers who focused on her experience and record. Aswaud looked past the quantitative reports, reading the person behind the numbers.