Yukimura chuckled. “I suppose I don’t blame you, Colonel. In that case, I’ve got some bad news. Battlegroup Z will be on station for a few more weeks. Command wants you flying the flag in case other upstart pirate groups decide to try to exploit the damage done by the bunch you just eliminated.” He cracked a grin. “Remember, convoy duty is what the Thanes are designed for.”
Inwardly, Tehrani groaned, but she kept a thin smile on her face. “Of course, sir.”
“I noticed you put in a few more medal citations.”
“Yes. Several of them posthumous, I’m afraid.”
“Major Whatley for a Bronze Star with the V device?”
Tehrani nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“The application I don’t see is for an award for Captain Spencer.”
“He specifically asked me not to put him in for anything, sir.” Tehrani kept a neutral expression. “Captain Spencer felt that he only did his duty, and others should be honored.”
“I see. I respect a soldier that’s not in it for glory. But the Terran Coalition needs heroes. Spencer is a true-blue CDF hero, and by God, the service will use him as it sees fit. Prepare a citation for him and send it to me. I believe the CDF Cross would be appropriate for his conduct in your last engagement.”
The CDF Cross was second only to the Medal of Honor in awards the CDF could bestow. “Yes, sir. You’ll have it by close of business CMT.”
“Good. Colonel, I want you to know that I pray for you daily. Your entire crew and the men and women on those escorts. God willing, I’ll see you in person in a few months.”
Tehrani bit her lip and nodded. “And if not, perhaps someday in paradise.”
“Amen.” Yukimura chuckled. “All right, I’ve got to get back to my day. Good luck out there, Colonel. Godspeed.”
“Godspeed to you, too, sir. Inshallah Allah.”
The screen blinked off, and Tehrani set the tablet down with a sigh. She tried to remember what everyday life was like. The way things were before every day was a life-or-death struggle. It seemed like a far-off, hazy dream. The realization shocked her because not too long ago, combat seemed like a nightmare in and of itself, but it had become the harsh reality they lived in.
The hatch chime buzzed.
“Come,” Tehrani said.
It swung open, revealing Wright in his battle dress uniform, complete with what appeared to be grease stains. He wiped sweat off his brow as he stepped through. “Apologies for the appearance, ma’am. I won’t sully the chairs.”
She laughed. “I couldn’t care less, XO. Sit.” When he didn’t move, she smirked. “That’s an order.”
Wright dropped into one of the chairs and let out a breath. “I just completed a tour of the engineering spaces and the hull repairs. Everything’s looking solid. We’ll be ready to get underway in less than forty-eight hours.”
“More convoy duty,” Tehrani deadpanned. “Our favorite.”
“As long as we’re done with these idiot pirates, I’m ready to go back to shooting Leaguers full of holes.”
Tehrani stared at him. “Did you ever think this was what our service would end up being?”
“No. Frankly, I thought I’d be the quintessential space warfare officer that warmed up his weapons once or twice, never got into combat, and joined the independent spacers guild.”
“Plans change.” She closed her eyes for a moment. Oh, how they do. “Yet we must adapt.”
“It’s the oath we took,” Wright replied. “The idea we’re at the epicenter of a ‘conflict of civilizations’ is insane, though. We’re making history, Skipper.” He shook his head. “Ever stop to think about why these guys are doing it? I can’t believe the Orion arm of the galaxy doesn’t have habitable planets. There’s so much space out there for the taking. Why come here?”
“My husband believes it's because communists can’t abide any other system’s existence because of the inferior nature of their economic system.” Tehrani grinned. “I would relish seeing him debate one of these Leaguers.”
Wright put his head back and laughed loudly. “Touché, Skipper.”
“I haven’t heard you take a shot at Hodges in a while. Did you two finally bury the hatchet?” She made a face. The juvenile rivalry between the two men had become tedious as soon as it began, when the engineer was assigned to the Greengold eighteen months ago.
Wright paused as if carefully considering his words. “After our victory at the Sol system, I had some time on the way home to put things in perspective.” He spread his hands out on his knees. “And there’s no room for pettiness in my life anymore. Major Hodges agreed.”
She stared at him. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“Just one of those personal inventory things. Well, Skipper, I’d better let you get back to it. I’m gonna grab a shower, hit the mess, then dig into my own paperwork.” Wright stood.
“Send your uniform down to be cleaned.” She wrinkled her nose. “It not only looks awful but smells too.”
Wright snickered. “I’ll do that, ma’am.”
As he left, Tehrani leaned back in her chair. How easy it is to banish the little insults of life in the face of a daily wrestling match with death. She glanced at her tablet. My work’s not going to do itself. With a tap of the screen, Tehrani got back to it.
With the carrier in port and tending her wounds, the pilots had plenty of downtime. Justin filled some of it with simulator sessions and extended maintenance on their fighters, but plenty of time was still left for other activities, such as the nightly card game Alpha played.
Mateus was having a grand time. She’d found an old-school triangle-shaped pirate hat somewhere and wore it at the poker table as she nursed a beer. “Yo ho ho, and another hand for me!”
Laughter drifted around the room, and Justin shook his head. “You gonna wear that thing in the cockpit the next time we fight criminals?”
She snorted. “Maybe I will, Flyboy.”
“To think I call all of you my friends,” Feldstein
