She pushed the thoughts down and decided to try to comfort her people. “We got what we came for, ladies and gentlemen—an offensive victory over the League of Sol. Don’t lose sight of it.”
“Conn, Navigation. Lawrence drive is fully charged and coordinates locked in.”
Tehrani peered at Wright. “All our small craft back onboard?”
“Thirty seconds, ma’am,” he replied.
“Conn, TAO. Sierra One has jumped out.”
Blue dots on Tehrani’s screen representing the last of the Boars and the SAR bird raced toward the Zvika Greengold. The last icon was the one marked CAG. Of course the major would wait until his people were safe. “Time to get scarce,” she said as the CAG’s dot merged with theirs. That’s everybody. Except our missing pilots. “Navigation, activate Lawrence drive.”
The often-repeated sequence of events commenced with the lights dimming on the bridge. Directly fore of the carrier, an artificial wormhole came into being, ripping a hole in the continuum of spacetime amid a kaleidoscope of color. The Greengold glided through the opening, and Tehrani felt thankful they’d escaped with their lives.
Justin felt the hangar deck through his flight suit’s boots and glanced around the bay, which was a jumble of landed Sabres, Maulers, and Boars along with a few Marine shuttles. Aviation ratings milled about, assisting pilots out of their craft, while medics tended to wounded Marines before moving them toward the medical bay. It didn’t take long for his compatriots in Alpha element to make their way over.
Feldstein wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace. “Glad you’re still in one piece.”
Okay, that’s different. Justin took a step back when she released her grip. “I had some great teammates watching out for me.” He glanced between Adeoye and Mateus. “Crackerjack flying from all of you.”
“Lieutenant Spencer,” someone called. It took Justin a few seconds to realize it was Major Nishimura.
The major, still clad in his power armor, trudged across the hangar with a group of Marines.
Justin brought himself to attention and saluted. “Sir.”
Nishimura returned the salute with a smile. “On behalf of all my Marines, thank you. To you and all the pilots who covered us out there. We wouldn’t be alive without your efforts.”
“Just doing our jobs, sir,” Justin replied. He relaxed to a parade rest position almost instinctively and grasped his hands behind his back. “Did you get the intel?”
“Oh yeah,” Nishimura replied, his smile growing into a grin. “We also captured a couple of high-value POWs. One of them, I think he’s the kind that likes to talk, if you know what I mean.” The grin faded. “Who was the pilot that sacrificed himself for us?” The Marine’s expression turned somber. “I’d like to remember him.”
“His name was Orhan Yavuz,” Justin replied. Emotion welled up in him. He’d known the Turkish lieutenant but not well. He’d only been in the squadron for a short time but distinguished himself as a natural aviator. Is this how it’s going to be? We won’t have time to make friends because all of us die too quickly?
The rest of the Marines had come in behind Nishimura, while the medics finished their jobs removing the wounded.
“Did he have a family?” Nishimura asked.
“Yes, sir. A wife and two small sons. Twins, I believe,” Justin replied.
Nishimura glanced behind him then toward the assembled mass of pilots. “Let us give thanks for the bravery and dedication of Orhan Yavuz. Let us give thanks for the freedoms we enjoy every day. Let us remember the price paid for those freedoms and for our lives as we stand here.” His voice broke as he continued, “Orhan Yavuz fell in the line of duty, serving his country. Men and women like him answer the call from throughout the Terran Coalition. Let us never forget our fallen comrades, for they have earned our respect and admiration with their lives.”
The hangar bay went silent, as anyone within earshot of the major had stopped what they were doing and listened. Justin recognized his words as a variation of the Toast to the Fallen.
“We knew Orhan Yavuz. We’ll remember him, and he won’t be forgotten. To our fallen!”
“To our fallen!” was echoed by everyone, including Justin. A loud round of somber applause followed it.
Justin pursed his lips. “Thank you, Major. It means something that we remember the sacrifices made.” Someone has to remember. It has to count.
“We’ll be heading off to Marine country shortly. Any pilot is welcome.” Nishimura smiled. “And we’ve got the good beer.”
A wave of laughter swept through those around them. “Thanks, sir.” Combat humor. It helps keep us sane.
“You getting a new Sabre?”
“I suppose,” Justin replied. “They just have to pull it out of storage.”
“And paint the kill marks on the side, right?”
Justin shook his head. “No, I don’t do that.”
Nishimura stared, a dumbfounded expression on his face. “A fighter pilot who doesn’t mark his kills? Seriously, Spencer, what’s wrong with you? Are you one of those guys that only eats kale?”
“Uh, no.” Justin paused, not entirely sure how to respond. “I decided after the Battle of Canaan that instead of painting kills on my bird, I’d have patches painted for everyone my squadron lost, and I’ve kept that going.”
For a moment, Nishimura didn’t speak. He bit his lip and took a step forward. “Whatever anyone else says, you’re a decent guy, Spencer.” He slapped Justin on the shoulder. “Carry on, Lieutenant.”
“Yes, sir.” Justin flashed a smile and watched the group of Marines walk past, their armored boots clanking on the flight deck. He stared as they disappeared from view, pondering the lives snuffed out in an instant. We’re here, then just like that, we’re not. He found it very sobering.
“So, when are we going to get the free booze?” Mateus asked, breaking Justin out of his mental revelry.
“How about we get out of these flight suits first,” Feldstein cut in. “I smell like an outhouse.”
Adeoye sniffed the air. “No, you don’t.”
“And you know what an outhouse smells like?”
Justin took a step
