They didn’t promote her that week. But they did stop laughing. And when the next distress call came—a freighter stuck in a methane storm over Saturn—Admiral Voss didn’t point his finger.
The room went silent. Senior pilots Sharpe and Mendez looked at her with a mix of pity and horror.
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.
“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.”
“ Odyssey , this is Fleet Auxiliary Skipper . I’m coming in,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt.
“Talia. How did you do that?”
