"Chief we have a problem, the new recruits are, well frankly, they are failing horribly at anything remotely like holding back pirates."
Myers looked up at Jonas, clearly the man had been working out his barrel like form seemed to have definition and Myers quickly decided that Jonas was no longer someone to meet and piss off in a dark alley.
"So what's your proposal, Captain?"
"Well I think we need more Havocs, it displeases me, but frankly the gunboat swarms are getting more and more, missiles a plenty and these fools are flying Liberators at them. It's like flicking peas at a battleship only slightly less effective given these recruits abilities. They need training, they need desperate tactical training. We've been putting these folks in ships and well frankly they don't now the first thing about being in space, half of them can't even follow simple orders correctly."
Myers eyes glazed over at this tirade. Chief as he was, all this work made him cranky.
"They do? Fine, get yourself a Havoc, you're going back into the field."
Jonas looked somewhat stunned, that was not what he wanted, not what he wanted at all.
"Sir? I think you misunderstand me. I mean you need to get a real pilot. Someone who knows Liberty like the back of their hand, someone who isn't afraid to shout."
"And I have, your old partner Toronto is back in the field, as of tomorrow so are you. Dismissed Captain."
Jonas' shoulders slumped, defeated and dejected he walked out the door. The recruits would pay for this. Pay dearly.
Saint Del is considered a holy healer of diseases of children, but also as a protector of cattle.