* * *
Sirion hobbled toward the briefing room. It had not been many hours since her surgery and her bellyache made her nauseous. The surgeons had used a kind of organic worm to extract the sliver of metal from her. They had opened the wound just enough to attach the mouth of the worm around the object. Then by passing an energy charge through it, the worm slowly gathered itself around the metal, working its way along until completely encasing it. When finished, the surgeons simply pulled the worm from Sirion’s body.
What had been most difficult was getting permission to leave the post-operating room. She finally had received it by promising to be careful and to not fly for forty-eight hours. The doctor’s release, which did not mention the forty-eight hours, had been handed to the mechanics on the hangar deck. They promised to have her fighter ready shortly.
Once in the crowded briefing room, Sirion searched for a seat, finally finding one near the front. She didn’t notice Terey slink in and hide in a shadowy corner near the back. Sirion sat next to one of her flight commanders, chatting about unimportant matters. At times like this, mundane things took on major importance. Discussing how someone sewed a new patch on a torn uniform took attention away from the fact that many would not return from combat. If this was to be the last conversation one was to have with a certain companion, let it be pleasant and trivial.
Colonel Saleuo’s entrance ended the banter. He moved to the front of the room and addressed his squadron and flight commanders. “I will come right to the point. As I speak, 1st Fleet’s Ninth Battle Group is currently under heavy attack and taking severe losses. They are too far away for us to lend them any support and, without it - or someone’s - I doubt they will remain a fighting unit for long.”
He brought up a three-dimensional map and pointed to a location on it. “We are here, in the MueoPoros star system. We, my brothers, are at the center of the universe. All the world is gathering here.”
Taking a stick, the colonel pointed to various locations on the map. “These are the six known locations of Asotos’ armadas. Already there has been heavy action off to the east. Three days ago, the Crimson Fleet and several of the new Special Forces WolfPack ships engaged two enemy troop transport convoys. The fighting has been somewhat continuous in that region since that time.”
“Only a few hours ago, enemy fighter squadrons from an undisclosed enemy carrier task force engaged the Crimson Fleet.” Colonel Saleuo paused, searching for the right words. “Damage to the Crimson Fleet’s battle group under TaqaEsem has been extensive. And…and I’m sad to report to you that Admiral TaqaEsem was killed during the fighting.” The colonel turned toward the map, pretending to study it.
After a lengthy pause, the colonel cleared his throat and faced his officers. “As the new lieutenant commander over the three fighter wings on the Sophia, I wanted to personally meet with all my squadron leaders. As you know, the situation is critical. In only a few hours, the entire weight of Asotos’ navy will be upon us. We have two choices: to either wait until they come within range of the big ships and engage them in close, or to take them on before they are within striking distance.”
Colonel Saleuo pointed at locations on the map as he went on. “If we hang back in defense, the risk to our big ships increases greatly. That is the disadvantage. The advantage is that our pilots will be more rested because of the shorter flying time. Also, re-supply and refueling will not be an issue. And damaged craft will not have far to travel to get assistance, even being able to use the planet’s surface if necessary.”
“The second choice is less risky for the big ships. Forcing a contest at or beyond the outer perimeters will draw a substantial number of enemy fighters away from protecting their heavies and into combat with you. This will make them use up vital munitions and fuel on dogfights instead of strafing and missile runs on our big ships.”
“As you know, this second choice greatly increases the risk to our fighter crews and ships. It is also the choice we have made for the coming battle. My comrades, we are the fist at the end of the arm. The arm can still fight if the fist is broken, but the fist will fail if the arm is destroyed. The fist is expendable as long as it can preserve the arm.”
Saleuo cautioned, “I am not suggesting you throw away your lives or those in your squadrons needlessly. Life is precious, but there comes a time when the objective is more precious than the life attempting to attain it. All of you are experienced pilots and leaders, having fought in the earlier wars. You have lost many companions, more than you may wish to remember, but you have been spared. This day may become the day you join with your lost loved ones in the Web of the Minds. It is a reality I know you all accept. I thank you for such sacrifice.”
“Please understand, if we lose this battle, we lose MueoPoros. If we lose MueoPoros we lose Eden’s Gate. If we lose Eden’s Gate we lose the universe. If we lose the universe, there will not be a returning for our companions or a future for any of us who may survive the battles.”
He pointed at the map. “We are the first line of defense. We very well may be the last hope for the existence of this fleet. The enemy’s main thrust will be from the east and Q-North. Outriders are already tracking the gathering squadrons as they collect at these two points. They are four hours’ striking distance from us. The Sophia’s fighting wings will join up with the Q-North fighter battalion and head toward Candletoe.”
The colonel rested his hands on his hips. “We will not abandon the Sophia to the whims of war. Several flights of older fighters shall remain at the ready should need arise to defend the fleet proper. All of the T-4’s, DTB’s, and other such machines will stay here.” He pointed at Sirion. “The TKR-14’s from the Moon Chasers squadron shall be group leader, with Major Sirion ‘Patch’ Sandevar as group commander.”
Sirion was shocked. Her face reddened in surprise and embarrassment. It had been ages since anyone used her full given name, the one she received the day of her coming of age. ‘Little flower of the desert hills’ - that is what Lowenah had named her the day she was given to Chrusion as a gift in celebration. And to be made group commander was totally unexpected.
The Colonel finished. “I shall be leading StarBall One today. That’s the code name for the Sophia’s fighters going Q-North. Flight crews will muster on the hangar deck in thirty minutes and join up with the other squadrons in one hour. The Moon Chasers flight group will remain on alert, ready to scramble at a moment’s notice.” He looked at Sirion and raised a fist. “To victory or a quick death!”
The room erupted in applause and shouting. This was the moment everyone had been anticipating. Today the fate of worlds was to be decided. No more waiting. The Day of Tears had lasted many days - a battle spread out over millions of leagues. This contest would be decided in one - twenty-four hours - and history would be written for good or ill.
As Sirion stood, a pain gripped her belly. She looked down to see a red stain soaking through her white uniform. She quickly covered it with her hand. Patiently, the girl waited while the others began to shuffle out of the room.
Colonel Saleuo caught Sirion’s eye. He walked over to her. “I read you medical report, Patch. Are you sure you’re up to this task?”
“Yes, Sir!” Sirion was emphatic. She covered any discomfort and stood up razor-sharp straight, much to her agony. Saleuo returned her salutation and wished the major well. Sirion marched from the briefing room, gritting her teeth in pain.
As she exited the door, Saleuo’s eyes settled upon another person standing in the shadows. For a moment, he did not move. Finally, sad-faced, he nodded once then turned to leave. Terey smiled to herself. She had little time to prepare...