Admiral

The sea didn't care for titles, but Elias Thorne cared for the sea. At sixty-four, with a face like a topographic map of the Atlantic, he was the youngest man ever to be named , and the oldest to still insist on taking the helm during a gale.

At the precise moment the ship reached the apex of the gravity well, Elias slammed his fist onto the thruster engagement. "Now! Give me everything!" admiral

"Admiral, the Kaelian blockade is tightening," Commander Vane reported, her voice tight. "They’re expecting us to dive. Standard tactical procedure for a ship this size." The sea didn't care for titles, but Elias

Elias didn't look at the holographic displays. He looked out the reinforced viewport at the swirling nebula, a graveyard of ships that had followed "standard procedure." Standard tactical procedure for a ship this size

Elias looked out at the stars, a faint smirk on his lips. "I didn't. But a good Admiral knows that sometimes, you have to let the universe take the wheel."