"Sir, this is... odd."

Quick's communication came as I reviewed the battle, trying to get a feel for my opponents. Specifically, I'd been watching the Materner's actions over and over, focusing on how she responded to each of our movements, observing how her single experienced escort heeled without any apparent communication. They'd been together a long time to have that kind of mutual understanding of one another's instincts.

The 'Sects didn't breed Materner-Ters near Unity space. Mutterchen-Ters showed up in fair numbers, but a Materner specialized for dropping ground troops would never make it near one of our planets. None had since we'd learned to distinguish them, and more than a century ago they'd stopped breeding them near us. They still used them on the Vulg' border. Paradoxically, the Vulg' love of close combat made the units more useful; they'd let them through in order to give the locals a treat, or to cull the weak. Something like that, anyhow. I never understood the Vulg'. I'd trained all my life to be a soldier, to master the profession of leading trailed killers into battle, but that didn't mean I loved fighting. Just the opposite. I loved the movements, the precise maneuvering of fleets and squadrons of Marines, ultimately culminating in...

Execution. Not fighting. Fighting meant standing and taking it, and I knew too much the cost of taking a hit when dealing on the scale of fleets.

Maybe I didn't belong in the Dragon after all.

But I had taken the job, and I would get it done or die trying.

"Sir?"

Quick interrupted my reverie. I'd been woolgathering again. I checked; my essie had thrown me into power save mode while I pondered the enemy. Apparently, a tendency to drift accompanied that. I fired everything back up and dropped into the VR space. Quick arrived a few seconds after I did.

"Yes, First? I thought you'd be working here."

"No, sir. I've got my own workspace, my real workspace, set up to facilitate the creative process. I'd have to make too many changes to this one."

I shrugged. Creation, another area I had little to no interest in beyond the results. "So. You found something odd?"

"I think I may have tracked down the power leak. Sort of."

"Sort of? How do you sort of track down a power leak?"

"It's not in any of my departments, sir."

I stared at him, my head slowly craning to one side despite my best efforts. Due to the dearth of Augmented officers, he currently filled in for every senior officer slot except the ones where Guy had taken over. Guy's responsibilities started with training and ended with care of the trainees. Life support on an Imperial ship took marginal power, so his training budget must have ballooned, but for the life of my I couldn't even begin to guess what he might be doing.

"Commandant Delnot! I need to speak with you at once!"

I waited, fuming, for him to join us. A thought brought a real time clock up on one wall; seconds crawled past, each one taking nearly half a minute of subjective time. By the time he blinked into existence, I'd brought my temper back under control.

"Excuse me, Delnot, but what the hell have you been doing with the students?"

Guy took a half step backward. I guessed I hadn't held my temper as well as I thought. His fear transitioned smoothly into frustrated anger, throttled imperfectly in his response.

"Well, sir, I've been making sure they're all fed, clothed, and cared for. On top of that, I've been assigning older students to do those same chores for you two."

"Thank you for that, Delnot. I hadn't specifically assigned you that, but you picked it up well before it became an issue." I'd interrupted his building rant before he slipped into outright insubordination. I couldn't afford to lose him, even if I couldn't afford to trust him. While I pondered the source of my distrust, he shook himself and started again, marginally mollified by my recognition of his job well done.

"Thank you, sir. I'm sorry about nearly snapping there." He'd done more than nearly snapping, but I let it lie. "I've been using VR Acceleration to teach a dozen classes at once. It's... draining."

"You can't assign subordinates to some of them?"

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"Not really. I've already got everyone capable of teaching doing two classes a day. The only ones left are subjects where we don't have a teacher or I'm the only one qualified."

"Still... twelve at once?"

He grimaced. "Yeah, I know. I thought it would free up the rest of my day for administrative tasks and office hours so students can reach me."

"Has it worked?"

He waggled a hand in front of himself. "Sort of. I have plenty of office hours, and the students certainly use them up. I wind up having to use VR acceleration to get my administrative work done. Our amateur teaching staff adds to that load as well. I suspect it does, anyhow. If it doesn't, I now understand completely why Commandant De'Lann walked around with a head full of steam all the time."

I nodded, unable to feel any real sympathy for his plight, even though I felt like I ought to feel some.

"Is there any way you can switch things around?"

"Not without looking indecisive. The kids' morale is shaky already, I don't want to risk that." He frowned, and some vague emotional clutter leaked around his shields. Before I could sort it out, he took a deep breath, stood to attention, and looked me in the eye. "Sir, I'm formally requesting some assistance from you. Anything you can think of would help at this point."

I shouldn't thrill with triumph when a subordinate finally recognized my authority, but it happened anyhow. Honestly, I should have recognized and fixed his problems before this. A solution had already popped into my head, but it had to wait. "I'll see what I can do. That isn't really why I called you here, though."

He shook his head. "Then why?"

"Our power leak. It's in your department. Care to tell me where you're using so much power for training?"

"Um... I'm using VR time, but that's not power intensive. I've..." He trailed off as he thought about my statement. After a few moments, he shrugged. "I'm doing armor drills, but the kids are just suiting up, powering up, and shutting down. Nothing really intense.”

"That's more intense than you think," rumbled Quick. "The power up cycle uses anywhere from ten minutes to an hour of live time, depending on the armor."

Guy shrugged, dropping and raising one shoulder. "Most of them aren't old enough to use VR simulation. I've got to train them somehow, unless we want them popping seals the first time they're in space."

Unbidden, the faces of Orora and Weller swam before me. I blinked them away and focused on Guy. "No, that's not the problem. Honestly? It's not even the right order of magnitude, if I'm understanding my First correctly?"

"Only off by about one, though," demurred Quick. "Could you do half as many suit runs, but do each for twice as long? Get the kids used to the suits, but... cut down on the power up and down?"

"Yeah, I can do that. So... what else is causing the drain?"

"I think I may know," Echidna interrupted, her voice tiny with shame. "I tracked it down once you all started talking. It's the food supplies."

"I'm feeding the kids mush. How is that eating that much power?"

"Not the students, sir. Specifically, the officers."

We exchanged glances. With the exception of the Junior Cadet officers, we were the only officers aboard, at least until we sorted out who would be taking over for us on what jobs. "Kid, are you sure? We're eating the same stuff everyone else is. Aren't we?"

"No, sir."

I looked to Guy. "Did you get us special menus?"

"No."

"Yes, you did, Cadet Delnot."

Guy opened his mouth to retort, then froze. He stood there long enough that I worried our VR session had become corrupted before his mouth slid shut and he swiveled around to face me, his face gone white with fear.

"Captain, I apologize."

"For what?"

"I knew my mother had a recipe she claimed to be a sovereign cure for problems associated with rapid Augmentation, but I'd never had the opportunity to make it. She'd tossed it in here," he tapped at his head, "along with a bunch of other stuff before I left home, but I never read it." For a moment he looked at the floor, almost as if he feared meeting my eyes. "Sir, are you in the Middle Deck Command Bridge?"

"Yes."

"Ah. Well. That's uncomfortably close to Sick Bay. I've been working from there." He shrugged. "Not that it matters. After you complained, I tried some of the finest Imperial glop to be had in the service, and... well... you're right. It's awful."

I stared at him, unwilling to admit to my growing confusion. After a few seconds, he continued.

"I just checked the recipe. Echidna is correct. Assuming you've been eating... er, drinking each full thermos as it's brought to you?"

I shrugged, "I usually space it out, to give myself time to adjust to the flavor."

Guy cocked his head, curious himself. "Does that work?"

"No. Still tastes like clutter. Why, pray tell, does my recuperative drink take so much power to make?"

He muttered something too low to hear, and his gaze slid down my front. I reached out with one finger and touched the bottom of his chin, gently pushing up until he half stared at the ceiling.

"Eyes up here, Cadet," I growled.

"Uh, purely medical interest, I assure you, Captain. I am your Doctor at the moment, after all. Med Tech, too."

"And which one of those gives you the right to stare at my breasts?"

Quick turned, carefully not looking at either of us or anything else. I couldn't tell and didn't care if his reaction stemmed from fear, amusement, or both. To his credit, Guy took time to think about his answer. That didn't help when he finally gave it.

"Med Tech, sir."

I managed not to snap. I even sent a query to my built-in historical database, pulling up the only connection I could find. "If we were abandoned on a backwater, without Imperial technology, and our essies were magically removed from our bodies or otherwise rendered incapable of fixing such things, Med Tech might give you reason to check my breasts for potential... cancer? Yes, potential cancer. Since we don't have cancer in the Unity, I'll ask you again, what gives you the right to stare at your Captain's breasts?"

"I wasn't staring at my Captain's breasts, sir."

I closed my eyes and counted to ten. Twice. I still seethed as I growled, "Right. Restate that, please? Because you were definitely staring at something below my chin and above my navel."

"Sorry, sir. I wasn't staring at my Captain's breasts. I was inspecting her primary antimatter bunkers."