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pressed forward.

Adeoye appeared next to Justin, grinning, but his face also held a tinge of regret. “That was some incredible flying, sir.”

“From everyone out there,” Justin agreed.

Feldstein and Mateus jogged up, flight helmets still on. They exchanged hand slaps with Justin and Adeoye before everyone embraced.

“I told you God would bless us,” Adeoye said. He beamed. “He flew with us today.”

Further conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the convoy of pilots, still carrying Whatley as they chanted his name.

Justin brought himself to attention. “Thank you, sir. We’re all in your debt.”

Whatley rolled out of the hands of those holding him and landed feet first on the deck. He returned the salute. “No thanks needed, Spencer. You should know that by now.” Whatley glanced between the pilots and back to where the Ghosts sat. All of them were scorched, with varying levels of damage. “No matter the odds!” he thundered.

“No matter the odds!” The deck plates rattled as hundreds of men and women echoed the shout.

“Okay, get these birds refueled, rearmed, and ready to fight, just in case the Leaguers show up again. Not that I expect they will after the pasting we just delivered.” Whatley’s tone was as stern as ever. He turned back to Justin. “Get some food, get cleaned up, and start resting our squadrons.”

Then he leaned in and whispered into Justin’s ear, “Consider yourself promoted to air wing XO, Captain.”

Justin beamed, standing straighter. “Yes, sir. You heard the CAG. Fall in, ladies and gentlemen.” The joy he felt continued until he turned around to walk out. Then Justin realized how many landing pads were empty. We lost almost half of our pilots. On my watch. And Martin. But he had a job to do, and it would be done—feelings be damned.

21

“Conn, Navigation. Lawrence jump completed. Within one thousand kilometers of expected target, ma’am,” Mitzner announced.

Tehrani opened her eyes, surprised they were still alive. She’d spent the trip through the wormhole praying. The lack of sound on the bridge seemed to indicate that most of the Greengold’s crew shared her opinion. She stared at the tactical plot as the sensors came back online.

“Conn, TAO. One contact, designated Sierra One, CSV Salinan, ma’am. Wait… aspect change, incoming wormholes. One, two—no, three wormholes.”

They all waited for classification of the newcomers.

“CDF signature, ma’am. Our stealth raiders.”

Thank you, Allah. Tehrani blinked, trying to clear her mind. “Damage report, XO.”

“Uh… hull damage fore and port quarter. Armor integrity is shot, venting atmosphere on decks five, eight, and eleven, port sections.” Wright paled. “The last volley missed our Lawrence drive manifolds by ten meters. Engines fully functional. Point defense online in manual mode only.”

It could be far worse. We could be dead. “How many Ghosts made it back?”

“Sixteen, ma’am. Major Whatley and the other three Sabres all returned as well.”

Fifty percent losses of our small craft. By itself, that would force the Greengold out of service for a few weeks until replacement pilots could be found once they got home.

“Casualties, XO?” Tehrani asked.

Wright avoided eye contact. “Still counting, ma’am, but over a hundred. A lot of crewmen are trapped in sections cut off thanks to the hull damage. Damage control is prioritizing hull repairs and erecting temporary force fields.”

“Conn, Communications,” Singh interjected. “I’ve got Colonel Fielding for you.”

“Put him on my viewer, Lieutenant.”

The screen came alive with an image of the CSV Astute’s CO. “That was the most impressive display I’ve ever seen from a carrier, Colonel. I’m in your debt.”

“Team effort, Colonel.” Tehrani didn’t feel like a hero and certainly didn’t want to be called one. “Were you able to get any escape pods from the Leviathan?”

“I’m afraid not, ma’am. We didn’t detect any launched, nor did we pick up distress beacons.” Fielding pursed his lips. “Hopefully, they’re in a better place and not held as POWs by the League. The Damyat took heavy damage. Do you have enough room in your hangar to park her? Her skipper informs me they can’t sustain more than one or two more Lawrence jumps.”

Wright shook his head.

“I’m afraid we sustained heavy damage as well. It’ll take some time to repair,” she replied.

“Then with your permission, we’ll shuttle the crew over and scuttle the Damyat. I can’t take the risk of the Leaguers getting any technology off that ship. It’s bad enough we lost the Leviathan, but at least the ship was entirely gutted. Our sensors showed fine powder for debris.”

“Granted. Major Wright, my XO, will handle billeting.” Tehrani forced herself to keep going. One word at a time, one thought after another—anything but focusing on how close she’d come to dying a few minutes before. Something as mundane as where a hundred new people would sleep was a welcome diversion.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Have them off within the next thirty minutes. I want to be underway for Canaan no later than forty-five minutes from now.”

“Yes, ma’am. We’ll get started now. Fielding out.”

The screen blinked off, and Tehrani let out a sigh. “Navigation, plot a course for home. And ensure it’s an entirely different route from the one we took to get here.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Tehrani turned to Wright. “I don’t know about you, but I’ll feel a lot better with five jumps between us and Sol.”

“Makes two of us, skipper.” Beeping from Wright’s chair-integrated tablet attracted his attention. “Salinan reports they’re ready to jump and standing by for coordinates, ma’am.”

“Good.” Tehrani let her head fall back against the headrest. Once more, they’d tempted fate and survived. She wondered when the good fortune the ship had would run out.

Whatever they had going for them, it held long enough for the crew of the Damyat to transfer to the Greengold and the fleet to get underway. After a few jumps toward the void between the galactic arms, she finally allowed herself to feel relief.

A week later, the Zvika Greengold and the other four ships raced through the void, headed for home. Teams of engineering personnel supplemented by crewmen from all departments were still working on the battle scars

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