"You just fought and won a real battle against a bugger fleet," he says evenly. "Feel like falling over now?"

"...Lightspeed delay," says Aegis. She doesn't fall over, but she does stop swaying.

"Not a factor," says the bureaucrat. "We've had faster-than-light communications since shortly after the Second Invasion. These are closely guarded I.F. secrets and I can have you court-martialed if you spread them around, by the way. The only reason you're hearing this is because so many people are so very sure that I need to tell your friend this before he loses a sim battle on purpose, and I think you're best placed to judge when and how."

"A fucking month ago," says Aegis.

"If the I.F. had time machines," he says dryly, "we wouldn't need your friend to win this war."

"So we're an invasion fleet, get them before they come back and get us, we have FTL communications, the simulators are hooked up to actual ships, fuck, how many men died when Qiaochu's ship got dinged?"

"I don't have that report yet," he says. "Communications may be instantaneous, but bureaucracy still takes time."

"Yes sir." Her hand goes to her forehead and massages her temple. "Fuck. I can tell Sue? Can I tell the subordinates?"

"Yes, sir," she says quietly. "- If Sue could also link the admirals commanding those fleets where they are -"

"It's been suggested," he says. "If he has the range, it could be a good idea. Besides, of course, the obvious problem with keeping uninformed students in a mental link with people they aren't supposed to know exist."

"Can we communicate directly with the fleet officers before they appear on the sim?" she asks, her mind racing. "Do they even know who's commanding them? How much risk is there of a ship going rogue and just not responding to our controls in the middle of a battle because its pilot thinks we're being idiots?"

"No more risk than there is in any military operation," he says. "Which is damn little. What would you want to say to the fleet officers before they appear on the sim?"

"It's not zero, sir, this operation in particular has already had a problem with getting orders obeyed. As for what to say - Hey, have any of your ships been slightly damaged by space dust? Are all your FTL communicators working normally? Are any of your crews suffering from morale problems that could make them move slower or contradict orders? Do you know more about the terrain than we do, do you have any bright ideas? Who's been in space for forty years and has a baby on board by now, we can put them in the back!"

"Graduates of the I.F. apparently invite sixteen-year-old boys who have recently thrown hissy fits to command distant fleets without telling him that those fleets are anything more significant than virtual toys until after he's already fought one."

"Unfortunately," he says, "we can't change the schedule of the battles. The fleets arrive when they arrive. Hissy fit included, your friend with you as backup was still our best bet."

"Okay. But - we're not buggers, sir, we can use the brains on those ships if you let us talk to them, we can subdivide more and give them their own missions so we're not spread so thin, Sue can link a lot more than eight people if he can reach that far, and I don't share your opinion of their uniform machinelike adherence to their orders regardless of morale anyway."

"Your simulators can also take direct control of their ships," he says. "You only have to worry about them disobeying verbal orders. And I still don't think you need to worry about them disobeying verbal orders."

"Are you actually unconvinced of the usefulness of communicating with them, sir, or are you just not allowed to let me and you're hoping I'll agree with you before you have to tell me flat no so I don't show up to the next battle disgruntled?"

"I'm unconvinced of the usefulness of communicating with them and not looking forward to arranging it if you somehow convince me," he says. "The simulator system is very well designed, and it's not designed for the kind of communication you're thinking about."

"But when we do issue verbal orders, human beings hear them, it's not a sophisticated natural language processor," she says. "Okay. That's useful."

"Yes," he says. "Sure."

"I'd like it in writing that I solicited permission to talk to the fleet officers, sir, and that you denied it, in case something comes up that could have been mitigated with such communication channels," Aegis says, suddenly bright.

"I'd like you to go away," he says dryly.