FA Pete Mitchell looked at AD Plif patiently while Plif finished sipping his whiskey.
"It's a bit risky, Pete." Plif was genuinely worried with this plan.
FA Pete Mitchell exhaled cigar smoke. "I know, but tensions have eased over the last decade, and Horus has made it back alive several times."
"Bait for catching the bigger fish."
"That's where you come in. We have donated a sector to this endeavor along with an old PLT, Charlie. You can rig it with all the surveillance gear you want, which will broadcast live back to you. If you see anything fishy, you can bust in with the whole fleet and rescue me."
"And start a war."
"Yes, and start a war. If one is going to happen, it will happen. I don't think that will be the case here. Anyway, isn't that what we were trained for?"
"Yes, it is," Plif took another sip "but the good whiskey is very hard to keep in stock in the middle of a war."
"You've always got your priorities straight. Trust me and trust Horus on this one. Our pilots could use the training, and there could be a larger threat out there than just the RS. We may need them one day."
"Oh great, you've totally put my mind at ease."
"That's the spirit! We will depart at 1900 hours Saturday."