Commander Jan Richthofen stood in the prison facility's clinically white medical unit, looking at the tied down Corsair prisoner with interest. He had flown bravely against Rheinland, and with skill, he'd give him that, but couldn't work as a part of a team.
"You know, Spaniard, the reason you lost?"
The Corsair, momentraily confused at the reference to the home of the Hispania, whimpered in response.
"I'll take that as a 'no'. I'll explain...."
Jan gave a mocking smile before carrying on,
"Discipline. You fly as individuals. That might work when you're off robbing unarmed trade convoys, but not in a war and not in Rheinland."
The Corsair's eyes darted left and right, not sure of what was going on.
"What I want to know from you actually has little to do with the Corsairs, though. I saw a few pilots in this war, using non-Corsair comm-signatures. They seemed to fly like professionals. You will tell me about them."
The terrified pilot didn't even bother giving the traditional resistance. He began to talk...