“Why, Leaguer?” He was dumbfounded that it had worked, especially with what he’d seen so far of the enemy.
“Because we’re fighter pilots, first, last, and always. You don’t murder an unarmed foe. At least, that’s what a commander I greatly respect instilled in me. The next time we meet, Terran, I’ll shoot you down. This, I promise you.”
Justin grinned. “May the best pilot win.”
Perhaps he imagined it, but he thought he saw one of the League craft waggle its wings in salute.
The commlink beeped, indicating a direct call from the Jolly Green. Justin toggled it over.
“Rescue One to Alpha One. We’ve got our man. Heading back to the barn. Not sure how you scared them off, but there’s four pararescue men over here that will be eternally grateful, Spencer.”
“Roger that, Rescue One. I’ll maintain close escort.” Justin scanned his HUD. The convoy tried to avoid the enemy’s heavy cruiser as much as possible, but another freighter had been lost, by his count. We’ll get a jump-out order any moment. Justin tightened his hand around his flight stick and hoped they wouldn’t be left behind.
“I don’t know how, but the SAR bird got Hastings. They’re headed back to the barn,” Wright announced. “Master Six is coming around for another firing pass.”
Tehrani glanced at the tactical plot. They were already in range of the Rand. “TAO, firing point procedures, forward neutron beams, Master Six.”
“Firing solutions set, ma’am,” Bryan replied crisply. “We’ll be in range momentarily.”
Wright leaned over and whispered into Tehrani’s ear, “Our neutron beams won’t scratch their paint, skipper.”
“I know,” she replied equally quietly. “We just need to distract them for thirty seconds until our last few small craft can land.” After the incredible heroism shown by the Jolly Green, Tehrani wasn’t leaving them behind. She couldn’t. The moment the icon for the League capital ship breached the circle around the Zvika Greengold on her screen, showing it within firing range, she directed her attention to Bryan. “TAO, match bearings, shoot, forward neutron beams.”
Two beams shot out of the carrier’s bow and connected with the Rand at light speed. Impressive weapons, especially against undershielded foes, but the Rand shrugged off the attack like a linebacker plowing through someone half his weight. The cruiser replied with a wave of plasma balls and energy-weapon attacks that lit up the Greengold’s shields.
“I think we got their attention, Colonel,” Wright intoned as he was thrown around in his harness. “SAR bird is twenty seconds out.”
Tehrani held her breath as the final two blue dots merged with the icon representing the carrier.
“All merchant vessels report ready to jump, ma’am,” Singh interjected.
“Communications, order them to jump immediately,” Tehrani replied. “Navigation, activate Lawrence drive.”
Flurries of orders and replies swept the bridge, and Tehrani sat like the beacon of a lighthouse in the middle of a hurricane. The lights dimmed, and directly in front of the ship, an artificial wormhole opened. Lights flashed briefly as the freighters disappeared through their own portals through the stars. Waiting until the absolute last second, she let out a breath and double-checked the tactical plot. Only the Zvika Greengold remained. “Navigation, all ahead flank.”
The trip through the wormhole was exceedingly rough thanks to League weapons fire impacting their deflector screens. The bridge crew shook in their harnesses, and Tehrani thought the effect was akin to bull-riding machines she’d seen before in bars—usually American ones. A few seconds passed as they glided out the other side, and the shaking stopped.
“Conn, TAO. Sensors back online. No hostile contacts.”
“Conn, Navigation. Transit complete, ma’am.”
Tehrani let her head hit the back of her headrest. “XO, begin damage control efforts. Terminate condition one and stand down battle stations.”
“Aye, aye, ma’am. I’ll have a full report for you within half an hour.”
“How many civilian vessels are we missing?” Tehrani asked, staring into his eyes.
“Seven, ma’am. Six from enemy fire, and one didn’t survive the jump.”
A couple of gasps went up from the senior officers, though no one spoke. A wave of sadness and despair swept across the bridge.
My call cost twenty spacers their lives. Before regret could form, her mind pushed back. If I hadn’t ordered the jump when I did, we’d all be dead—for nothing. At least if the supplies made it, their sacrifice would mean something.
Wright seemed to sense how she felt. “That anyone got out is a win, ma’am. Asking us to defend a large convoy with three ships is tantamount to suicide.”
Tehrani pursed her lips. “If it were our last jump, I might feel better about it, XO. But here we are, beginning our journey.”
“We’ll get to the other side. I know it.” Wright flashed a grin at her. “What’s that you guys say? God is great?”
“Allu Ackbar. God is the greatest.”
“Well, He’s going to see us through.”
The words were meant as encouragement, but they spoke to doubts deep in her soul about her commitment to faith and truly believing that God, whatever His name was, controlled the universe’s outcomes. Why not prevent the League from attacking us in the first place? She decided to set aside that rabbit hole of thought and focus on repairing the ship. “We live in hope.” Sotto voce, Tehrani continued, “Thank you, Benjamin.” She used his first name on purpose, reinforcing the personal nature of the comment.
“Any time, ma’am.”
Justin strode into the pilots’ ready room, still in his flight suit, like most of the rest present. Feldstein, Mateus, and Adeoye were right behind him, and they sat together. The mood was somber, at least among the Red Tails squadron members, and even the normally chipper Lieutenant Martin was quiet.
All small talk and whispers ceased instantly when Whatley came in through the hatch. Everyone rose and stood at attention.
“As you were,” Whatley rasped as he stepped behind the lectern. “Anyone care to tell me what went wrong?”
He’s sure not pulling his punches. Justin cleared his throat. “There were too many enemy fighters, bombers, and ships,
