Cleo's golden eyes shifted from the strategic overview to meet his gaze. For a nanosecond, the river of code in her pupils flickered, as if performing an instantaneous, private calculation on the idiocy and potential of the idea.
"Your direct intervention would provide a measurable boost to squadron morale and local combat effectiveness," she stated, her voice still cool.
"However, the statistical probability of a capital ship weapon lock focusing on your unique energy signature increases by 1,200%. It is an inefficient risk at this stage of the engagement." She paused, tilting her head just a degree. "The battle does not yet require its king, Rex. Only its commander."
She gestured, and a holographic schematic of his personal fighter, the Judgement, materialized between them, its systems all flaring green, eager and ready. "But if you are asking for my logistical preparation, the Judgement is prepped, and the launch bay is clear. The choice, as always, is yours."
