One Step Forward...

[Chirakis 1]

<This log takes place a few hours after the dust settled from the destruction of Maasune.>

 

One Step Forward...

 

Kirel paused as the lift doors opened on Revenge’s fighter bay. Given her experience, the smell had become quite familiar, but it still made her gasp. Splintered micro-lattice glass, burned-out electronics, and smoldering composites mixed with the ultra-purification chemicals of atmospheric scrubbers: the classic smells of a bay post-combat continued to assault intruders as though the battle were still waging. Kirel lingered a few seconds longer than usual before stepping into the bay’s organized chaos.

 

“This... should not have happened,” she growled to the tall Sindar who fell in step beside her.

 

“And yet, it did,” Captain d’Ka replied, his eyes flashing violet as the two of them cut a path through the bay’s center. “The question is why,” he sucked in a sharp breath, sidestepping a pool of dried blood, “...along with too many other questions that need answering.”

 

A curt nod signaled Kirel’s agreement. “Higher than normal radiation, an artificial object masquerading as an asteroid that locked target on the fighters....” she left off as they continued their visual scan from one side of the bay to the other, mentally calculating their losses.

 

Even with atmospheric scrubbers working overtime, a haze lingered. Captain Roberts’ flight operations officer had declared the squadron clear for buster, meaning they had permission to land however they could, as fast as possible, in full combat mode if necessary. Most fighters had come in hard; some had spun out of control and slammed into whatever was in their way, strewing their parts and pilots across the bay. One pilot had landed in the catwalk, courtesy of her misfiring ejection seat. She was safe, but not very comfortable.

 

Struts that had been deployed in case of systems’ failures were bent, mutilated, or just broken off. Some escape hatches hung askew. A few external atmospheric stabilizers looked more like pretzels or were missing completely.

 

Revenge's bay crews worked beside Aegis fighter captains, assessing damage and coordinating repair. At the far end of the bay, neatly poised for instant deployment if necessary, sat Revenge's fighters, a fine dust of planetary remnant giving them an ethereal glow in the bay's strange mix of spotlights, work lights, and overhead lighting.

 

Beyond that, like the family matriarch, sat Drakor, Kirel’s aging Peregrine. Catching sight of it, Kirel turned sharply to search for Peregrine 14, Nike leader’s bird. Captain d’Ka had also spotted the contrast; difficult to miss.

 

“Barely a scratch on the Peregrine,” he said, amazed, “and the few Mongoose fighters have minimal damage as well.”

 

“...and both have seen considerable action, especially against the Athra, all with minimal damage, all easily repaired compared with...” Kirel’s hand swept disgust at the mechanical carnage strewn across the bay floor. “Captain Roberts is lucky his fighter bay didn’t sustain even more damage from this latest round of Starfleet Ie’veQ'etlh... veSDuj....”

 

She returned a passing mechanic’s shocked expression with a growl and slowly regained her composure. “The newest fighters don’t stand up; they collapse at the slightest touch. It’s a wonder we didn’t lose any pilots.”

 

“What you were issued are not the newest.”

 

Turning sharply to face the Sindar captain, Kirel’s eyes narrowed.

 

“The latest fighters,” he replied calmly, taking her aside, “are aboard the Missouri. A composite of several designs that include elements learned from a certain... mutual friend, a privateer. Given freely, of course.” His head nodded in the direction of Revenge’s squadron, resting safely along the far end of the bay. “Our P-70B Peacekeeper border patrol craft and A-85 Crusader attack fighters are not only swift and sure, they have endured the greatest tests of combat and survived intact, with barely a scratch, and few pilot injuries.”

 

Kirel stared.

 

“Of course, it will take some strategic prodding by persons of influence.... of which we both have a few.”

 

“Indeed it will,” she replied after a long pause. “And indeed we do.”