Captain Bon-Lor’s cabin was luxurious, but a total mess. A number of empty liquor bottles littered the room, which smelled of alcohol and stale body odor. Captain Rigslan stopped suddenly just inside the door, and whirled to me with an oath. “I’m sorry, Admiral,” he began, “I haven’t been in this cabin since we arrived in this system. I had no idea… If you don’t mind; perhaps we could go to my cabin?”
I nodded, and he led me farther down the passage. “Surely Captain Bon-Lor wasn’t always… that way?” I asked. He opened the door to a neat, smaller cabin. Pictures of a gray-haired woman and a variety of children and adults adorned the bulkheads. He ushered me to a seat, and an orderly brought us sandwiches and caf.
Rigslan’s head came up. “Oh, no, sir! Captain Bon-Lor was always very meticulous, and only a social drinker. This started after your.. visit to Thaeron, Admiral. The Captain became irritable. After meetings with Admiral Jonas, he was frequently in a rage. He seldom came to the bridge, and when he did, he smelled of alcohol. But he was a good officer until then, sir.” Rigslan looked me in the eye. “I guess he realized that we were on the wrong side. But I don’t understand it. For a while, it was a toss-up aboard, which side to join. The Captain could’ve swung opinion either way. He was the one that chose that we follow Admiral Jonas.”
I shrugged. “I was told that Relentless was in the same orbit as Nemesis, and slightly ahead of her at the time. Perhaps the Captain thought that not choosing Jonas would risk the destruction of his ship.”
Rigslan straightened. “Of course! That must be it. He felt that to save his ship he had to betray his duty. That’s why he was acting so strangely.” His tone turned puzzled. “But why didn’t he just surrender to you this morning?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Now that you are in command, you’re going to find that Captains must often make difficult decisions. Moreover, there is no one with whom to discuss them. Nor can you explain them.”
Rigslan’s tone became bitter. “I won’t be in command long, sir. Just until your prize crew takes over.” He sighed. “Then I can watch my career self-destruct.”
I could feel the flush of anger suffuse my face. “How dare you? How dare you feel sorry for yourself? You're an adult. You made your choices. But most important, you’re in command. You have no right to self-pity!” I waved toward the door. “There are more than three thousand people out there who are frightened and confused. They are your people, Captain. And they need your help. Bon-Lor abandoned them after Thaeron, and now you want to abandon them again to wallow in self-pity!”
Rigslan jumped as if slapped. I continued, “Qualified or not, selected or not, you are in command. If your people see you mope around, worrying about your own career, they will cease being disciplined Fleet troops and become a frightened rabble. Damn it!” I shouted, “I don’t want to have to order my troops to open fire on these people one day just because Captain Rigslan abandoned them!”
He flushed, but his gaze was level. “I was good once,” he said quietly. “I was a good officer. Maybe I could be one again. My apologies, Admiral.”
I looked at him appraisingly. He had been a good officer, once, or he’d never have made Commander. “Would you mind some unsolicited advice, Captain?” I asked.
He looked embarrassingly grateful. “Of course not, Admiral. I’d appreciate it. I admit to being a bit lost.”
I shrugged. “This crew has been leaderless for a long time, certainly longer than they deserved. You have to take command. Give orders and act as though the thought that they might not be obeyed would never occur to you. No matter how busy you are, take the time to dress down a man who shirt isn’t pressed, or a woman whose hair is unacceptable. The crew must believe that you see everything, and know everything. Don’t explain your decisions, and don’t accept excuses. Accept input only from those on your staff, but don’t let them begin thinking that they get a vote.”
I sighed as I continued, “If you have any friends among the crew, you’ll have to give them up. Command is a lonely position.” I shrugged again. “As far as what you should do immediately, I’d suggest you find out if any of your people have legal training. If so, put them in charge of counseling the rest of the crew.
“We’ll be putting you aboard a disarmed ship as passengers and prisoners. Your people won’t have anything to do except sit around, complain and worry for a long time. Nevertheless, remember, the weapons on that ship may be disabled, but the comp’s memory banks are fully functional. Assign research tasks to teams, with the expressed purpose of helping your people defend themselves against charges. Or think of something else. Your one and only job is to keep hope alive. Keep them busy and motivated. Don’t let them fall into the trap of self-pity or desperation.”
I looked directly into his eyes. “It’s a big job, Captain. It may be a hopeless job. Nevertheless, you have to try. Over three thousand lives depend upon it. You're not retired or fired yet, Captain. If you must go out, go out trying, with your head held high; don’t just slink out the back door.”
Rigslan had slowly straightened. By the time I finished, he was straight as a rod and I could see some of the young man with high hopes that once had been. “Thank you, Admiral,” He said in a quiet, dignified tone. “You've reminded me of some things I’d forgotten. Including my own capabilities. I think I’ll be all right, now.” With a final sip of his caf, he stood, ramrod straight. “I believe the hour is up, Admiral. Shall we go surprise my crew?”
I grinned. “Why not?”
There was no trouble as the shaken crew of Relentless was exchanged with that of Fearless, though I understand there were some tense confrontations when crewmembers from the two ships encountered each other. Finally, Fearless, with an escort of armed tramps, boosted for the jump point and Bolt Hole.
Meanwhile, cleanup efforts continued. Though Relentless appeared to have taken little serious damage, she had numerous hull leaks, and the tramps’ projectiles had been more effective than it appeared. Forty of Relentless ’ crew had been taken to Fearless ’ sickbay with wounds and decompression injuries. Twenty-four, including Captain Bon-Lor, were dead. Blood and body parts had to be cleaned up, and the ship set right. Vidsen lost no time beginning work.
Our own losses were fourteen boats and three rim tramps, with all hands. Only one of the tramps hadn’t blown up. She drifted airless, almost cut in half by Relentless ’ lasers. Her entire crew was dead. We recovered the bodies, and put a beacon on the hulk to prevent collisions. Then we nudged her into an orbit that would eventually take her into Gamma’s sun.
We were involved in recovery of bodies from the debris of the attack boats when Shar pulled me aside.
“Admiral,” he began, “I want to remind you that it might be considered polite to inform the people of Gamma about the battle and its result.”
“Damn!” I exclaimed, “I’d completely forgotten about that.”
“Shall I set a course for the planet, Admiral?”
“Gods no! It’d take us a week or more to get away again. Besides,” I added, “I detest ceremonies and such nonsense.” I thought frantically. “I’ll just record them a message. We’re far enough out that the time lag would make two- way conversation practically impossible anyway.”
Shar grinned. “If you say so, Admiral. I’m not sure it would be the Viceroy’s solution, though.”
I chuckled. “I’m sure it wouldn’t. But I’m just a fat old trader captain, not a Sector Viceroy. If he wants speeches and ceremonies, he can come back and make them himself.”
Shar looked at me skeptically. “How long do you think you can get away with that ‘fat old trader captain’ nonsense?”
I grinned. “Hopefully, long enough to end this ‘Admiral’ nonsense and make it true again.”
His skeptical look didn’t change. “This is Shar you’re talking to, remember? You love every minute of this ‘Admiral nonsense.’ And you’re damned good at it.”
My face grew warm. “C’mon,” I growled, “Let’s go write up a message that’ll keep me out of trouble with Cord.”
Several hours later, I found myself staring into the glowing eye of the camera. “People of Gamma,” I began. “I am Vice Admiral Val Kedron of the Rim Worlds Fleet. It is my great pleasure to be able to inform you that today; the Rim Worlds fleet attacked and captured the Empire Fleet battle cruiser Relentless. Relentless is the ship that has been holding you prisoner and hostage.
“Unfortunately,” I continued, “time and battle damage prevent me from visiting Gamma to deliver this happy message in person, and the distance from the battle site to the planet creates a time lag that prevents two-way communication. By the time your reply to this message reaches my present location, we will be gone. I sincerely regret the impersonality of this one-way announcement, but I’m afraid that I have no choice in the matter. I hope that those of you with broadcast facilities will distribute this message to the people of Gamma.
“I doubt that Admiral Jonas can spare the forces to again menace Gamma. We expect him to concentrate his forces at Haven. He has lost two destroyers and a battle cruiser. He is in retreat, and soon, we will pay him a visit at Haven and put an end to this treason and mutiny.” I sighed before I continued, “I’m sure that Viceroy Cord will soon be in contact with you. But now, I must be on my way. There is much to be done. Thank you for your kind attention.”
The glowing eye faded, revealing Shar standing behind it, grinning like an idiot. He put his palms together and raised them to his cheek. “My Heeeero!” He gushed in falsetto.
I shot him a threatening look. “One of these days you’ll go too far, and I’ll forget that I’m just a fat old trader captain in an admiral suit.”
The message sent, we finished cleaning up the loose ends of the battle, and returned to Bolt Hole.
Cord was delighted with the results of the battle, but not as happy with what had occurred afterward.
“Admiral,” he fretted, “You purposely avoided going to Gamma. Your return here wasn’t that urgent.”
I made no apologies. “Sir, if I’d gone to Gamma, It would have been days before we could get away again. Probably longer, once Valkyrie ’s crew got liberty on-planet. I had no intention of being trucked around as the duty hero for a week or so.”
He rolled his eyes and sighed. “Admiral, you’re an excellent battle commander, but you have absolutely no concept of the political side of an Admiral’s job.” He waved a hand to signal a change of subject. “Now, tell me about this rim tramp that got cut up, but didn’t blow up.”
I shrugged. “Yes. It was too bad. She was Lubyloo, the ship that took Wil Tor’s commando to Thaeron. A good ship and a good crew.”
Cord was staring at me. “Have you no sense of history, Admiral? I want you to immediately send a rim tramp with a load of boats to recover that ship, and transport it to Gamma.”
I frowned. “Why? She’s damaged beyond economic repair; in fact, I’m not sure repair is even possible.”
He sighed. “Someday that hulk will form the centerpiece of a museum devoted to the rim worlds’ struggle for independence. For now, I want every possible honor rendered.”
In the end, we sent two rim tramps. While mining boats maneuvered the hulk of Lubyloo toward Gamma, the two tramps provided an honor guard.
When they reached Gamma, the boats lowered the hulk to the surface, flanked by the two tramps. Then the boats moved back and landed facing outward, to form a guarding circle around Lubyloo.
The whole thing was broadcast live planet-wide, and the landing field was crowded with thousands of onlookers, since Cord had sent along a tape that had been transmitted to Gamma even before the tramps had located Lubyloo. Cord’s instructions were remarkable.
He began by telling of Lubyloo ’s part in the commando raid on Thaeron, then her participation in the attack on Relentless, and her fatal damage.
He followed his introduction with a series of instructions calculated to transform Lubyloo from a mass of scrap metal to a sector treasure. He instructed that an honor guard be recruited. Lubyloo was to be manned by at least two people at all times, and her colors were to be raised and lowered at the appropriate times.
Her fusactors were to be powered down to the minimum required to provide lighting, heat and cooling, but were not to be permitted to go cold. Thus, Lubyloo would remain on the active list of the rim fleet. Along with the rim tramp escort, Cord had sent a ‘conservator’, whose job it was to inventory and remove the crew’s personal belongings for presentation to their next of kin. Then he was to evaluate Lubyloo and figure out a way to permit visitors to tour the hulk without chancing the pilfering of someday-priceless artifacts.
In this message, Cord also coined the term by which the armed tramps have been identified ever since: Privateer.
For over a week, people crowded the landing field trying to catch a long-range look at the heroic wreck. The encircling mining boats kept them at a respectful distance. There was really little to see, but the crowd never seemed to diminish much.
When she was finally opened for tours, people streamed through her by the thousand. Collection points had been strategically placed at entrance and exit, and in less than a month, nearly a million crowns had been raised for construction of a Lubyloo museum.
Meanwhile, back at Bolt Hole, there was much discussion of our next move. Only six weeks remained until our carefully timed attack on Nemesis could be mounted.
Cord and Bendo wanted to attack the base on Thaeron. Shar and I thought it would be a waste of time, resources, and most importantly, lives.
“But we could cut off his supply line,” Bendo protested.
I shrugged. “He’s not dependent on that supply line. He’s been provisioning by requisitioning supplies on Haven, and he hasn’t been using any ammunition, aside from some for infantry weapons for his marines. When he does use his ammo, it’ll be against us. He won’t be able to restock. If we beat Jonas at Haven, we can simply go to Thaeron, announce that fact, and accept their surrender. No loss of life or ships. I see nothing to be gained by attacking a fortified system.”
“And it is heavily fortified,” Shar added. “Everything from command-detonated mines to heavily fortified moons. It would take a full-scale attack, and even then, we might not win. Why fight an unnecessary battle?”
In the end, we didn’t attack Thaeron, but I’m not convinced that we were persuasive. I suspect it had more to do with the relatively short lead-time to our attack on Nemesis and her companions. We were busy with plans and preparations for nearly the entire six weeks.
Finally, all was in readiness, and Cord ran out of patience.
He sighed. “All right, Admiral, are you going to tell me about it? I mean, I understand classified information, but I think I have a ‘need to know’.”
I nodded. “Yes, sir, but I wasn’t sure about your staff. The last rim tramp left this afternoon, and no one else will be leaving this system until ‘R Day’. I can tell you now.
“As soon as Jonas’ ships settled into a predictable orbit, a dozen boats and a single rim tramp went into action. The boats selected four asteroids of at least a kilometer in one measurement, and began nudging them into an orbit that will slingshot them around the sun and into a collision course with Jonas’s ships’ orbits.”
Cord looked incredulous. “That’s it?” He said, “You’re guiding kilometer-sized rocks into positions where they could hit Haven? Are you insane? Even a minuscule error could wipe out all life on the planet!”
I shook my head. “No, sir. You see, the boats stayed with the rocks. They’re making constant corrections to insure that doesn’t happen, as well as accelerating the rocks. The rim tramp is following along on minimal power and hiding behind one of the asteroids, so as to avoid detection. But we had to be able to rotate boat pilots. It’ll be just over six months from the time they launched the rocks until they cross Haven’s orbit, still guided. We’ll launch our attack just before that time.”
“I see. And what’s to keep Jonas from simply moving out of the way? Those rocks will mass far too much to be moved.”
“Actually, not much,” I admitted. “But they’ll be approaching from behind Haven, if we’ve timed it right. Of course, he’ll also have a bit of a battle to occupy his attention. I’m hoping he won’t notice the rocks in time to light off Nemesis ’ inertial drives. Dreadnoughts are not very maneuverable, you know.”
“Can’t he destroy them?”
I shrugged. “To tell you the truth, sir, I don’t know for sure. A dreadnought carries some sizable fusion warheads. But I don’t know how sizable, other than the five planetbusters she carries. He can’t use those, of course. They take almost half an hour to prepare and launch. But, we have four rocks. By the time they reach Haven, they’ll be in a row, seconds apart.” I shrugged again. “I’m sorry, sir, but it was the best I could come up with. We simply didn’t have time to build a fleet large enough to tangle with a dreadnought.”
The clock ticked down to our launch time. Valkyrie and the thirty-two armed rim tramps… ah… privateers all carried holds full of attack boats. Other boats, already in the system, were driving in from our asteroid base, hopefully too small to register on Jonas’ detectors. Predator escorted Relentless and Valkyrie.
Our fleet lifted and drove for the jump point. The die was cast. There was nothing more for me to do until we emerged in Haven’s system. Despite my best intentions, I found my eyes coming to rest on Suli, immersed in her jump calculations. I wished I’d found a way to leave her behind on Bolt Hole.
Our rim comps let us emerge at a jump point far farther inside the Haven system than would have been possible for Empire vessels. I scanned my monitors anxiously. Suddenly a speck of light swung into view around Haven, and one screen resolved it into the kilometer-wide globe of Nemesis, still in her standard Fleet orbit. I breathed a huge sigh of relief, and began looking for Dauntless and Raptor. There! Dauntless preceded Nemesis in her orbit. Finally, Raptor emerged from behind Haven. Other screens showed me my own fleet. Cargo locks on all of the privateers were open, and they were spewing clouds of boats as they drove for the orbiting warships. This was the showdown.
Even from our advanced jump point, and at full acceleration, we were hours from Haven. My largest concern was that Jonas would break orbit with Nemesis. It was vital that he keep her in orbit. I did expect Dauntless and Raptor to break orbit to gain fighting room.
I was wrong. It must have been Jonas’ orders that kept them from moving out. Surely, both captains realized that by staying in orbit they compromised much of their ships’ fighting ability.
At any rate, the three ships simply maintained their orbits and cleared for action. Nemesis launched almost a hundred Strengl and Wasp fighters, Dauntless twenty more.
As planned, the privateers broke into three attack groups, and each headed toward one of the enemy ships, accompanied by a cloud of armed boats. I cursed as Valkyrie slowed; but she wasn’t a combatant, she was a flag C amp;C ship, and had no place in the line of battle.
Six privateers and a dozen armed boats had headed for Raptor. Suddenly, Raptor broke orbit and began frantically transmitting surrender messages. Evidently, her captain had simply been waiting for his chance to desert Jonas’ forces. I had one privateer approach her and board. In moments, the privateer’s captain confirmed the surrender of the destroyer. I left two more privateers and their attendant boats to guard Raptor, and rerouted the other three and their boats to one of the other targets.
The captain of Dauntless had worries of his own. His own sister ship, Relentless, a destroyer, Predator, and over ten privateers, as well as more than fifty armed boats were attacking him. The Strengl s and even the Wasps had been simply brushed aside, out flown by the boats, and outgunned by the privateers. The boats swarmed so thickly around Dauntless that they were getting into Relentless ’ and Predator ’s lines of fire.
Again the boats were putting on their space ballet, dancing, weaving, pirouetting, then suddenly arrowing in, slicing with their lasers, and bouncing away, to resume their evasion dance.
Dauntless ’ captain tried to fight a textbook battle against Relentless and Predator, as he’d been trained. However, his training hadn’t included small, heavily armed ships that could maneuver like fighters, but carried the armament of frigates. Then there were the boats…
The plan had been to concentrate on Dauntless and Raptor, and simply keep Nemesis too busy to come to their aid. Once the battle cruiser and destroyer had been defeated or destroyed, we’d be able to focus completely on Nemesis, even if the asteroids failed.
It seemed to be working, or else Jonas was cooperating, behaving as stupidly as we’d hoped.
Nevertheless, flares began to appear, each marking the death of one of our privateers or boats. Dauntless was beginning to show her damage. Her shields were dangerously weakened in several areas, and nearly a third of her weaponry was apparently disabled. However, she was taking a serious toll on my fleet. Her battle comps might not be able to deal with the boats, but they could track the privateers. Track them and attack. The flares became more numerous.
When two more flares announced the deaths of two more privateers, I lost patience, and called in one of our unconventional weapons. A privateer broke free of the battle, swung away, and drove at maximum into an orbit exactly opposite the battle cruiser’s. Once clear of both Dauntless and Nemesis, she opened her cargo hatch, and a crewman gently nudged a long cylinder out of the hull. The privateer slowed and altered course to blast back to the battle as the cylinder sped at several thousand kilometers per second around Haven and toward the battle cruiser on a collision orbit.
I followed the beacon it carried until it disappeared behind the planet, and waited anxiously for several minutes until it reappeared. I triggered a control, and a flash announced the disintegration of the cylindrical container, revealing a packed mass of fist-sized rocks.
The flash must have been noticed aboard Dauntless, too. She began frantically firing at the mass of rocks. But her powerful lasers merely fused small rocks into larger ones. Her particle beams were simply absorbed. Missiles and projectiles only scattered the rocks a bit, making them even more dangerous.
Armed boats and privateers scrambled out of the way as the rocks closed on the cruiser at incredible velocity. The thousands of rocks impacting her weakened shields at ten kilometers per second simply overwhelmed them. When the mass of rocks passed, they left a shredded, airless hulk in their wake.
The destruction was so complete and sudden that for a moment, everyone in the battle was stunned. Even Nemesis stopped shooting. Then Relentless, Predator and the remaining privateers changed course and engaged Nemesis.
Nemesis was ready. Her crew had plenty of notice to make their preparations. This was what I’d been dreading. I’d hoped to be able to find a way to beat Jonas without having to slug it out with the dreadnought. However, even if my asteroid plan worked, we’d have to keep Nemesis busy until they arrived…
Nemesis was old, and in my opinion obsolete. However, she was still one of the most powerful weapons systems ever designed by man. It was going to be a very expensive distraction, in ships and people.
I gritted my teeth and ordered our forces to concentrate on the old warrior. But even my repeated warnings couldn’t prepare my people for the reality of a dreadnought.
Nemesis carried more weaponry than the planetary defenses of most civilized worlds. Her huge lasers and particle weapons were pumped by their own independent fusactors, and were of a size usually mounted on moons. Her battle comps, though obsolete, were huge, and were capable of directing the fire of the nearly seven hundred weapons stations that she mounted.
We’d been inflicting damage, and of course, her age and background as a showboat and flagship were showing. Entire weapons emplacements were going dead as their ancient control systems failed under the pressure of the attack. Shields weakened. Battle comps began failing under the stress of trying to deal with our non-standard weapons and attack patterns. Given enough time, I felt sure that we could eventually beat the old monster.
Of course, we wouldn’t be given enough time. I doubt it was Jonas, but someone aboard her had imagination and initiative. The laser and particle beam emplacements stopped firing at points, and began trying to slash the beams across their targets. It was a devastating tactic, especially against the privateers. With their incredible maneuverability, the boats were less vulnerable to it. But privateers began dying with distressing regularity.
Suddenly, Relentless spouted a huge cloud of vapor, and began drifting away. A few of her weapons continued to fire over the growing distance, but it was clear that she was no longer an effective fighting vessel. I could hear Jax desperately trying to reestablish communication with her. However, she was obviously no longer under command. I considered breaking off the attack and retreating. Nemesis was simply too tough a nut to crack with our small fleet. But if we drew off, Nemesis might detect our asteroids in time to light off her inertial drives. Retreat was not really an option.
Damn it, people were dying out there! I glared at the timer counting down to the first asteroid’s arrival. The damned thing had to be broken! It must have been about this time that Nemesis ’ sensors detected the first asteroid swinging around the planet.
First one, then several of her laser and particle beam weapons began firing ineffectually at the huge boulder. However, Jonas had evidently learned something from the destruction of Dauntless. Despite the continuing attacks of our ships, he launched a missile. When that one was intercepted and destroyed by an armed boat, he fired another, and our sensors detected that Nemesis’ inertial drives were powering up.
The second missile impacted the asteroid with a tremendous nuclear flash. Jonas’ gunner wasn't stupid. He’d known he couldn’t destroy the asteroid; he’d aimed the missile to deflect it, and it had worked.
Unfortunately, he had deflected the asteroid away from the planet, in the only direction that Nemesis could have taken to break orbit. It was only when the asteroid moved relative to the ship that Jonas could see the second asteroid, some five seconds behind the first. There was no time to maneuver, no time to launch another missile.
A kilometer-sized ship is huge; but a kilometer-sized boulder is just as huge and much denser. Nemesis ’ shields were never designed to handle impacts of that magnitude; they burned out in microseconds. The boulder pushed more than halfway through the dreadnought, whose remains appeared simply pasted to its front.
The impact had slowed the boulder, though. Its orbit began to decay, and I yelled for the boats to nudge it away from Haven. A swarm of boats flocked around the boulder, pushing frantically to keep it from falling into Haven’s atmosphere, while others diverted the remaining two asteroids. They succeeded, but the remains of Nemesis slipped from the front of the rock, and became a blazing smear across Haven’s sky. Only a few charred pieces have ever been recovered.
And that quickly, the battle of Haven was over. At least, the fighting was.
The dismal job of cleaning up the aftermath of the battle continued for days. Once the shock of watching Nemesis ’ end as a shooting star on Haven faded, I’d dispatched a privateer to report and to fetch back Cord. Most of my part of the job was finished. Now his part began in earnest.
The casualty reports were appalling. Over five thousand men and women had died with Nemesis, including, of course, Rear Admiral Micah Jonas and Captain Jamin Van-Lyn. Three thousand more had died aboard Dauntless. Surprisingly, forty-seven people had been found alive aboard Dauntless, trapped in sealed compartments that had not been holed.
Ninety-two of our hundred-twenty four armed mining boats had been destroyed. Six of those pilots had managed to trigger their emergency beacons, and were recovered alive, but we didn’t stop until we’d recovered as much of each body as possible. That gave us a casualty rate of just over sixty-nine percent for the boats, an appalling rate.
Relentless had two hundred seventy-six dead and a hundred thirty-four wounded. She was once more under control, but it would take months of effort even with Thaeron's facilities to make her a combat vessel once more. Predator had suffered thirty-four dead and six wounded. Sri Bendo was recovering from decompression effects suffered when his bridge was hit.
Fourteen of the thirty-two privateers with whom we’d entered combat had been lost, a casualty rate of over forty percent. Cord had his victory. I hoped it was worth the cost. Suited men carefully examined every bit of debris looking for bodies or wounded — especially wounded.
When they were found, wounded were rushed to Relentless. As soon as they could be stabilized in her sickbay, they were evacuated to hospitals on Haven.
Cord arrived, and lost no time grounding on Haven and crowing about our victory. I remembered a line of ancient poetry I’d encountered at the staff college: ‘Another such victory and I am undone!’