The planes of Echo Squadron who had managed to locate survivors began the return to the Ranger, their precious cargo being given priority handling.  At the same time, maintenance pilots in the salvage and maintenance pods moved out into the debris field, trying to sort out what was nothing more than scrap metal from what could actually be repaired or rebuilt or cannibalized for parts.

The other planes moved out to flying at the edge of Ranger's sensor range, with their own sensors dialed up to maximum, as Chief Bixby tapped into the various planes' systems and tied them to the processors in the Two-Ex.

For the time being, at least, the space around them appeared clear...

2nd Lieut. Cain Edwards had gotten fast tracked to the Ranger pilot roster but due to the already established Squadrons found himself initially to Fox Squadron filling out the axillary combat Squadron.  It had grated him to be stuck in basically a support role...but figured attrition would take its toll and he would get moved up to more active duty.  However, when it happened it made him sick to think his step-sister 2nd 'Lieut.' Nina Petrovic had been the one he'd replaced in Echo.  She had gotten a bigger dose of radiation sickness from the explosion of the Rebel bombs than had been expected and was bed-ridden while the medics tried to work a miracle.  Cain felt like crap... it felt almost like he'd wished for one of the Echo pilot's to 'bite-it' just so he could get his shot a so actual combat action.

He'd gone to visit Nina in th einfirmary.. she looked bad... but she was in good spirits.  Cain was still not sure how to feel about her... heck until he got assigned to the ARMD-07 "RANGER" he'd never even knew he had a step sister!  Nina had confronted him!  Told him who her illegitimate father was.  Apparently, she knew of Cain and had kept an eye on his service record... seems she knew his father also took an interest in Cain's military service records.  Cain was not sure how to feel about that.  Nina was older then him by a couple years, and Cain was so use to his little sister, Alia's, practical hero-worship of Cain; he wasn't sure how to feel about an older sibling that he knew practically nothing about!  But considering the unmitigated JERK that his father was... leaving a trail of broken homes, hearts and bastards was just his style!  The thought of his father's sardonic half-sneer / half-leer of a smile raised the bile in his throat!  One day he'd have a reckoning with that waste of a man.  Cain knew one thing... Nina was family .. they shared the same blood... even if it was their only-good-for-target-practice father, 'Captain' T.R. Edwards. Nina was blood.. and he'd fight just as hard for her as for his beloved little Alia and his mother; but for now.. Cain was Echo 5, he had a job to do...

"<TC> Echo 5 to Echo Lead.  Sir, I've been watching the wreak of~..er ... the debris field from the James Madison.  Sir, I know we got a picket of Raven Squadron around the far-perimeter... but sir if I were the enemy... I'd not be trying to hide out in open space... with all our overlapping sensors on max sensitivity! If we were out there sir... we would have been spotted by now.  No, If I were the enemy... I'd be hiding some of those little nasty fighters within the debris field waiting for the chance to spring an ambush when our Veritechs are on the picket too far away to get back in time to stop a blitz on the Ranger.  Why leave all these pilots alive for us to rescue sir?"

"The Zents seemed to have had time to clear the area completely... as we are not picking up any of their ships even on long range!  So why not just kill all the helpless pilots before leaving?  I think I'd want to draw us in and while we're collecting our pilots and set up with our fighters  on wide perimeter scanning for an early warning... that's when I'd spring a lightning strike from the debris field and kill our only capital ship the Ranger!  It's what I'd do at least."

"Sir, I'm requesting permission to take Echo 11 and do a intense focused sensor sweep of the debris field, Sir?"
This message was last edited by the player at 08:30, Sun 25 May 2014.

Parker banked his veritech as he continued the sweep of the picket line.  He was still trying to push the images of body parts, frozen in the vacuum of space bouncing off his canopy while he searched.  Then the radio blared to life and his spirits perked up at the suggestion by Echo 5.  His depression over having the misfortune of finding pretty much all the dead people in the initial search seed to be forgotten. He checked his scanners and gave a slight cheer.  He couldn't hit his CommNet transmit button fast enough, trying to sound like a calm professional on the team channel. "Echo 4 to Echo Lead, I'm closer to Echo 5's position.  I could give him cover while we perform the detailed search, sir...  Uh just in case the enemy is hiding there he'll need a wingman."
This message was last edited by the player at 08:48, Sun 25 May 2014.

Cain chuckles, triggering his Comm again, "<TC> Echo 5 here, a clarification, I was requesting to take Echo 11 with me as MY wingman to do the sweep.. but if you're volunteering to keep an eye on us from your picket position, Echo 4, it would be appreciated!  I'd never ask someone to do something I was not already volunteering for."
This message was last edited by the player at 08:49, Sun 25 May 2014.

"Echo 4 here, clarified, range to target debris is one third better than Echo 11.  I think...  I recommend  swapping 11 for my spot makes, uh logical sense.  For speedy response.  I can meet Echo 5 at the edge if the target zone."  Parker said facepalming, glad he was on audio only for that one.

Cain looked at the telemetry... saw the positioning of the Veritechs on the perimeter sensor net and concurred, "<TC> Echo 5 here, Copy Echo 4.  Echo leader... request revising request... Echo 4 is in a better position than Echo 11 to assist me in my sensor sweep. Please advise Echo Leader."
This message was last edited by the player at 12:59, Sun 25 May 2014.

Vance grinned a little to himself...a grim-faced version of the expression.  "<TC>Echo Five, I appreciate your enthusiasm...but you're apparently unfamiliar with the sensor suite on the Two-Ex.  If there were any alien craft lurking in the debris field, Chief Bixby would have pinpointed them and sent us gunning already...unless they were totally powered down and completely blind.  Besides, we've been through most of the debris field searching for survivors...anything resembling one of the alien craft would have been pretty apparent, unless they managed to tuck up inside what's left of the hull of the Madison.  I'm far more worried about an approaching alien patrol or even one of their larger ships than I am about the possible presence of a few stray battlepods in the debris."

Cain shook his head {Figures! I get the Lead with no imagination.  'Lack of imagination is the best way to underestimate an unknown enemy'... }

Cain adjusts his sensor arrays to full thermal scanning of the debris field... filtering out any truly hot sources but searching for any stationary heat signatures... like a cooling drive using only station keeping thrusters to hold position in a shifting debris field.

His hands gently adjusting his not his course but his orientation to face the debris field... taking advantage of the fact he would continue on the same course he was assigned regardless of his actual facing... {Gotta love zero-G... that is, Until it Kills You!}

Triggering his Comm, "<TC> Echo 5 to Echo Lead.  I take it that's a negative permission on a close up focused scan of the debris field sir?"

Cain grimaced to himself, {Don't get testy Cain... the Lead is just doing what he 'thinks' is best even if it is short-sighted and lacks imagination of what the enemy would be willing to do.  'Only a few stray battle pods', could easily mean 'only a few' Suicide Nukes aimed at our one functional carrier.  I've seen the data from the past fights with the Zents... self-preservation is NOT high on their pilot's priorities!  I'll just keep my eyes open all the same in that debris field... when lack of imagination bites this kid on the ass... hopefully not at the cost of good pilots.  Besides who knows.. I could be jumping at shadows... but I really hate it when I'm right about tings like this... usually means someone dies for it. sigh~}
This message was last edited by the player at 06:58, Tue 27 May 2014.

"<TC>Echo Lead, if he's REALLY that determined to take a look, you just as well let him.  Newcomers never seem to grasp the value of an EWO in the field until they've exhausted their own resources.

For what it's worth, the ion trails leaving the area indicate a different ship class than we've encountered before...larger than the combat pods, but not quite the scale of the larger warships we've dealt with, either.  My read is, they've cleared out of the area...if operational protocols didn't require patrol planes in the air in a combat zone, I'd suggest everyone going back home and getting some sleep, but I'm not sure the Old Man would appreciate that."

A dour voice cut in.  "And you'd be correct, Chief.  Echo Lead, if your pilot feels like he's got some reason to scan the debris field, let him.  Given the fact that your entire squadron has been all over that field for the last half-hour, now, I'm pretty confident he won't find anything.  But you can never be too careful."

Cain rolled his eyes, {Great.. I'm gonna catch hell over this... when we get back!!}

"Shit!  First day... and I'm already 'making friends'...{sigh}..."

Triggering his comm while keeping his eyes on his telemetry, "<TC> Echo 5 here.  Sorry Sirs, I don't want to be difficult or insubordinate... we've ALL lost a lot of good friends and pilots in this interstellar war we didn't start.  I just hate surprises... especially the lethal ones!  I'm perfectly aware of the specifications of an EWO in the field... and I know of a myriad of ways to fool a sensor sweep.  I also know we don't know a fraction of what we need to know about the enemy and what they can potentially do.  I-I... I just... care about my fellow squadron members and the ship crews. I want everyone going home.  And.. I take it Personally if someone dies because.. I was careless or didn't give that little extra effort that might have meant them seeing another day... or going home in a body bag... if at all."

"I'll follow whatever orders I'm issued sir... but I'd feel better if a detailed focused scan of that debris field was made. I'll do it myself alone if you don't want excessive resources used to do so.. but I won't disobey any orders issued Sir! So, I'll leave it to your discretion Sir and drop it. Echo 5 out."
This message was last edited by the player at 07:46, Thu 29 May 2014.

Parker got excited all over again.  The disappointment of the idea being shot down forgotten already.  He checked the scanners, still less distance than the others of the squadron...  barely but he technically had the advantage over the others other than Echo 5. "Echo 4 still proximity of the field to assist the other unit as needed...  uh, sirs."  He chimed in, trying hard not to let his excitement bleed through the comm...  but it probably was still evident from how quickly he had added his bit after Echo 5 had spoke up.

Vance chuckled.  It seemed like another lifetime, but he could remember when he was the gung-ho pilot that was eager to do anything and everything possible.  He keyed his mic.

"<TC>Ummmm...Lieutenant...Edwards, yes?"  Getting new blood transferred onto the Ranger--and into his squadron--was uncommon, and it had been a while since he'd had to try and put new names, faces, and voices together.

"If I know Chief Bixby at all, he's had his Two-Ex collating detailed sensor information from all of us since he went wheels up.  Our sensor feeds automatically route through his plane, and he's got better data processing systems than we'll EVER get in these birds.  If he says the debris field is clear, I trust him.  At this point, I'm more concerned about early warning if another alien patrol happens to come along, so we've got time to get the salvage crews back aboard the Ranger instead of stuck out there, defenseless, hoping we can hold off the enemy at a safe distance.

That being said, if it will make you feel safer about where your backside's pointed, go ahead and do your sweep.  I'd rather the two of you take a few minutes to reassure yourselves than get you out there and have you splitting your attention between the debris field and everywhere else.  But, keep in mind, the Chief has been flying these kinds of missions since before the aliens ever attacked...I'm a big believer in the accuracy of his survival instincts."

Cain listened pondering what Echo Lead was saying... {So humoring me eh? Fair enough.. doesn't matter ... I get to at least to take a closer look.}

"<TC> Yes Sir, Lieut. Cain Edwards.  Acknowledged Sir, proceeding."

"<TC> Echo 5 to Echo 4.  I'm beginning my sweep... linking telemetry with you.  I'm going to send you a series of Deep Radar Scan pulses as I search the field.  Set your distance to me at 2,000'ft.  Go Guardian mode we're going to get in close... Guardian mode will be more agile that close to the debris.  Cover me with your GU-11, no Missiles, if I flush anything out of hiding.. let's hope there really IS nothing here!  Got it?"

With that Echo 5 broke formation thrusters blaring in the coarse adjustments as he flew into the debris field main drives at 20%.

"<TC> Echo 5, Battloid mode.  Beginning sweep."

The Veritech shift going into Battloid mode GU-11 gun pod held in its left fist ...

Cain scanned the floating debris visually and found what he was looking for ... a random piece of torn hull plating a little bit larger than his Veritech's chest and wings an almost as tall.. a perfect tower shield.  Verniers fired and with his off hand Cain snagged the piece of floating scrap and pulled it close to his battloid's shoulder, aiming his Gun Pod around the edge of his make shift shield... with a few discreet blasts of his head laser at close range for some convenient hand holds and to remove some rough edges on his make-shift 'shield' - Cain was ready.

"Now if I were an enemy fighter craft and I knew the enemy would be coming through with a surveillance high-resolution sensor bird... where would I hide?  Well of course, very close to the largest pieces of rubble in the field keeping it between me and the sensor bird hugging the sensor shadow... powered down as much as possible."

Calling up the IFF Tactical display Cain painted on his tactical the location of the EWO sensor bird and plotted his previous course based upon his current position.  At least one good thing was nobody else got the bright idea to move off the Echo Leads carefully orchestrated sensor sweep... carefully orchestrated - and predictable.

[OOC: Not sure whether there is a VEF-1 or VEF-2X out here or if the EW is only from the Armed Carrier so I'm assuming its a VEF-1 in the Squadron poassibly more than one.]

Cain smiled, "Let's get a little ..random."

Then Cain's Battloid dove into the the debris field spinning, shifting altering course, literally skipping from one piece of debris to another.  At Regular intervals his Radar pulsed to scan a cluster of debris or another ignoring some completely but sometimes pulsing other clusters more than one.

It seemed at first random.. but as Echo 4 watched a pattern revealed itself. Cain was deep scanning the previous sensor shadows the rubble field would undoubtedly have had that the EWO Surveillance craft would have invariably not been able to clearly scan on its initial pass.

As for his piloting - it was risky, aggressive, and completely without what one would consider a, 'healthy level of fear...', but a certain level of brilliance to the maneuvering was clearly evident!  The 'shield' Cain had jury-rigged was clearly only meant to be a distraction should he discover anything hiding in the field to provide just a bit of initial cover so he could not be easily sniped as he... literally, 'looked under every big rock in the field'.

He started making his way toward the five large chunks of what was left of Oberth-class DDSG "James Madison" Missile Destroyer, it was a display of piloting that was quite impressive as Cain's Veritech danced from floating chunk to floating chunk through the debris field.

As he made his way around Cain tagged anything that might be survivors or bodies to be recovered.  Cain also switched to a Direct laser comm with Echo 4 when the debris field began to interfere with radio transmissions.
This message was last edited by the player at 09:20, Fri 30 May 2014.

Parker was practically there before the other pilot was.  As soon as the sweep was authorized, he went full throttle to meet him.  He even got in a few maneuvers to dodge a few odd pieces of debris.  The switch from fighter to guardian midroll to avoid a chunk of hull he looked up to notice that it actually had part of someone's bunk attached to it. Just the wall mount and a few springs but the young veritech pilot had seen those springs enough to identify it.   That wasn't was grabbed his attention however.   There was a tattered poster of some celeberty singer even still attached to the wall as well.  Parker thought it was odd how that kind of thing happened.  With all the destructive power that was obviously leveled against the ship, something so delicate as a poster could survive it was amazing.  Parker shook his head and focused on the task at hand.  He was initially annoyed at the other pilot trying to tell him what he should be doing with his weapons.  The gun pod gripped in the right hand if his guardian right now.  "Echo 4 on station...  Believe it or not I understand how to cover ya, Echo 5.  I kinda figured missiles would be unwise at this close of range.  Or should I say Echo Knight with your new accessory there?"  Parker chuckled.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:47, Fri 30 May 2014.

Cain hears the hint of indignation in his tone and chuckles across the comm, "<TC> Sorry Echo 4.  My bad, don't mean to micro-manage.  I'm use to having raw recruits as Wingman from Fox Squadron... taking some getting use to not having to worry over tactical flubs like that.  This is Echo Squadron... the Best of the Best on Ranger!  Nice to know I got people who have been in a fight backing me.  Fox wasn't my first Squadron... but it was my first Veritech Wing.  I flew some real engagements... not big mind you, minor policing actions but some combat before joining Ranger.  But most of Fox seemed to have never been in combat... kinda made 'em all a bit jittery and trigger-happy."

"As for the shield... well first rule in a gun-fight, 'always take cover when you can get it'.  This piece of scrap won't stop a full long burst or do anything more than dull the hit somewhat of a short range missile... but its just a small precaution... might give me a one-shot edge.  It'd be silly to keep it in a long-term real fight it'll unbalance my verniers trying to compensate for the mass and I can't go to jet mode with it gripped in my battloid hand... though it does sort of make me look kinda 'knight-like'! {snicker}.. my little sister, Alia would love a pic.  Anyways, let's try to keep our chatter to a minimum until we know there is nothing actually out here... focus on the sweep.  If you want to get in here and do some up-close searching as well that's fine with me.  I'll cover you in return... and we'll sweep this field that much faster."
This message was last edited by the player at 11:19, Sat 31 May 2014.

"No problemo Five.  Just change to 243.235.223, uh yeah that piece of debris there looks suspicious to me." Readied his forward HUD cams, Parker planned on snapping a few his res stills of Echo 5 maneuvering with his shield if he would just turn a bit...  The thought of making a kid happy warmed his heart.  An orphan, Parker had no real siblings, but had kept in touch with the daughter of one of the last foster parents he had stayed at.  So it was like a sister...  The thought that occurred to the young lieutenant was:  Why don't they make veritechs with shields like that?  They aren't as heavily armored as my Monster was so a little mobile armor wouldn't hurt.  He shrugged to himself and let out a sigh as he kept covering his wingman.

Vance listened in on the conversation between the two pilots half-attentively, a crooked half-grin sneaking onto his face as he thought about his own time as a new pilot in the Ranger's operations.  It seemed like it was merely weeks ago...and a completely different lifetime, in the same moment.  It had not been that long ago, really...

What's the line from that movie?  'It's not the years, it's the mileage...'  Something like that...  Reminiscing about his less-experienced days underscored, in his mind, just how much chaos, confusion, and carnage he had seen in the few months since the aliens had attacked Earth.

He suddenly felt very old, and very tired, for a moment.  No wonder the Captain's got no sense of humor, he thought.  For all that he'd endured, Captain Wilson had probably forgotten more about war than he'd had a chance to learn yet...and while Vance had a deep and abiding respect for their CO, that moment of reflection, listening to the back-and-forth jawing of a couple of eager young pilots, gave him a new insight into the man.

As the two planes proceeded with their search, Chief Bixby in the Two-Ex kept correlating data.  "<TC>Uh...Vance?" he said, after a few minutes.

"Guess we've gotta stop giving Boy Wonder a hard time about being an overachiever.  While he hasn't turned up anything suspicious, his scans have turned up four pockets of survivors that we'd missed."  A group of salvage pods shifted course to drop in along the flight path of the two Veritechs.

"My read is, they've got enough available life support that they'd still be alive when we rounded up those sections of the ship...but if we get them aboard first, by the time we get back, Captain Wilson might have answers about what, exactly, happened here..."  There was a pause...and then he added, "Good work, kid."

It was hard to tell, on the audio-only feed he was using, whether his voice was pained at having to grant the accolade, or amused that the effort had actually produced some result beyond what he'd predicted.

Cain listens to the EWO Officer, Chief Bixby's report, across the Comm net silent for a few uncertain moments at the complement...

"<TC> Ah.. Thank you Sir.  And sorry to be so pushy sir, not my intention, Sir.  My fellow service members are my family sir... I'm always willing to go the extra mile for their sakes. If at all possible... I never leave a man behind... alive or dead."

Parker was all grins on his face as he waved the salvage group into the area with his guardian's arm.  "Come on slow pokes, we got people to save here!"  he muttered, then quickly checked his mic.  That went out on the open net.  Oops.  "I mean, over here guys...  good job guys...  and we appreciate your hard work!"  He tried to recover, face turning red as his dyed hair color.

This time he made sure to mute his mic so no one would hear him  "Damnit, why isn't this mic control on mute all the time!"  Parker jetted out of the way and continued to follow Cain.  He was his wingman until further notice after all.

With Raven Squadron watching closely over the Ranger and support ships, and Echo Squadron setting up a patrol picket, the salvage teams set to work with an efficiency born from extensive practice.  The recovered pilots and salvageable fighters from Fox Squadron (NOTE: It is Revolt Squadron, not Fox Squadron, that is populated with all the green pilots) were hustled aboard, the pilots taken from their cockpits and hurried to medical.  As the planes from Echo Squadron that had taken back survivors were relieved of their escorts, they were ordered back into flight, to fill out the growing protective cordon, each single plane escorting two fighters from Revolt to fill out the formation.

Chief Bixby pored over the data streaming in from the various fighters...but with the exception of the debris field and an ion trail marking the departure of the alien craft, space seemed clear, for the time being.  Recovery of the remains of the James Madison would be a long project, however...long enough that the Ranger was ordered to remain on station while a tender was sent out from Earth to collect what was left.

That meant, effectively, a couple of days of almost-round-the-clock flying for the Ranger's Veritechs...in groups of two or three, they were sent back aboard in shifts, to get a meal and a couple of hours' sleep, before being sent back out.  Bixby had to be given a direct order, by none other than Captain Wilson himself, to take a break.
This message was lightly edited by the GM at 04:09, Thu 12 June 2014.

"Oh thank god that's over! Another boring patrol!"  Parker muttered to himself as he landed his veritech on the flight deck of the Ranger.  he had been getting better at remembering to check his mic was muted before he did that.  Parker often thought out loud when upset, it was a habit of his.  The veritech taxied in and was secured by the grounds crew while he exited the aircraft.  Parker went straight to the showers as he was feeling sticky from the time in his flightsuit.  He then went back to his bunk where he started reading a novel he had been trying to get through for months now: a novel based on the exploits of a fictional veritech ace turned military investigator who uncovers a plot to steal the protoculture matrix for a private company.  It was really well written and came highly recommended by several of Parker's former academy friends...  he was just usually too busy to it lately.  Or he fell asleep like he did this time.  The book resting on his face as he lay in his bunk...  This happened often.  Eat sleep, patrol, sleep, eat patrol.  The order of things seemed as unimportant so long as they were all present.

Cain brought his Veritech in .. by the numbers meticulous of procedures, Landing a little fast but within specs.  The techs maneuvered the arrested Veritech into position to maintenance  the servos.. mostly to look for any errant damage from debris or micro-meteorites, as Veritechs with the protoculture power plants never ran out of fuel... but their pilots did frequently.

Cain waited in the cockpit going over his serch patterns records and cross referencing them with how the dibris cloud was shifting so his next partol would cover the areas oldest int he scan pattern again.

"<TC-Flight Control> Echo 5, Chief says no more volunteering for additional patrols.  That's your 3rd in a row. Doc says, it's rack time, Now."

Cain grimaced, then sighed.. he was dead on his feet tired.

"<TC> Echo 5 here, Acknowledged Control. Standing down."

"<TC-Flight Control> You did all you could out their 2nd Lt. Get some rest. We need you frosty and ready not exhausted.

The Veritech was taxied on the gantries into the flight bay... no gravity made launching tricky.. but retrieval easy.

Cain waited for the unpressurized bay to give the green light to unseal his canopy and climb down.  He was more unsteady on his feet than he realized.. but eventually managed to stumble a little awkwardly from the fight deck.

Orders were ORDERS.. but Cain wanted to visit his step-sister in medical first...

He swung by the mess hall to snag a nutrition bar from an automated vendor to munch on... still in his flight suit, flight helm looped on his elbow, before making his way to the Medical ICU.

He entered the normally quiet offices and recovery rooms of the medical bay.. but they were all in a uproar now with all the survivors form the destroyer wreck of the James Madison.  The fact that still in all this his step sister still had a room attested to the seriousness of her condition.

He entered her room with doctors treating an another vacuum exposure victim not more than 10feet away.  Problem with space injuries .. most were either minor or immediately fatal.. space was NOT forgiving!  Then there were the lucky ones who got burns or radiation exposure.. the latter was the case with his step-sister 'Lieut.' Nina Petrovic.

Cain came to her bedside ..she was asleep or unconscious.  Her eyes sunken, respirator hose at her nose.. lips stained with dried blood from her coiffing..but at least that had stopped.  The doctors told him the anti-radiant drugs they were using on her were almost as dangerous as the radiation sickness.. but there was a 45% chance she'd pull through if monitored closely.

Cain barely knew her.. but she was blood of his father..he knew that could not have been easy for her to deal with.  He wanted to speak to her.. but no words he could speak now would make any difference.  He sat down in the chair next to her bed and gently took her hand holding the clammy cool flesh and leaning close whispered to her softly, "Please. Nina.. don't die!"

He held her hand and time slipped by.. he fell asleep there.. never feeling the soft squeeze of her hand in his...
This message was last edited by the player at 16:57, Wed 11 June 2014.

Vance, like just about every other Veritech pilot on the Ranger, had to be ordered to stand down for his breaks...and got himself in a heated discussion with his crew chief when he tried to shave his break short by ten minutes.  Sarge wasn't having any of it, and while his arguments were made in terms of 'academy brats' trying to second guess Command on such issues, there was no mistaking the sincere concern in his tone.  His job was to keep the plane intact, yes...but he also took it upon himself to try and keep the pilot operational, as well.

A second break came around, and Vance didn't even bother arguing at that point.  Once his plane was clear of the flight line, he got out of the cockpit and went to his quarters, flopping down on his bunk without removing his flight suit.  Sleep overtook him mere moments after he turned his head to look at the picture of his mom and family, in front of their ranch house back home...

As he slept, he found himself dreaming that he was back home, that he'd never gone to the Academy, never learned to fly...he was just sitting down to dinner with his family when the first attack hit, and he rushed outside to find alien battle pods marching on the farm.  The barn was in flames, the animals trapped inside, and as he rushed forward to do something about that, another burst of enemy fire hit the house, where his family was standing, watching him run for the barn...

He sat upright in his bed in a cold sweat, the wild-eyed grip of panic on him, and it took him a few moments to reconcile what he'd just dreamed as being just a dream, that he was out in space, that his family was safe at home...They may never understand it, but I'm their first line of defense, he told himself, as he began to settle down.

He'd just wound down enough to start thinking about dozing off again when his alarm went off, and with a groan, he forced himself back to his feet, grabbing his helmet and making his way back to his plane.  As he walked, the image of his family, standing at the door of the house, watching him try to get to the barn, just before a ball of fire engulfed them all, haunted his thoughts.  The cold dread of the thought was more bracing than any dose of caffeine, and by the time he launched again, his mind was sharp and prepared for another shift.

The edge from that nightmare was only just beginning to fade when the tender arrived, hours later, and the planes were ordered back aboard the Ranger.

The tender rounded up the remaining wreckage in short order...and while the Veritechs were recalled, Captain Wilson kept a couple sitting on alert...just in case.  Once the tender was done, however, the entire group started back toward Earth.

"Shouldn't we be worrying about where the escape rocket from the rebels was headed?" Commander Keyes asked the captain.

With a shake of his head, Donovan replied, "We're down an entire squadron of fighters, right now, even if we weren't missing pilots to fly them.  We were fortunate enough to recover most of the reactor plants from Fox Squadron.  We need to take those back.  While the factories back on Earth can produce the airframes, without the technology aboard the SDF-1, they can't make any more reactors to power them and conventional reactors just don't cut it in heavy traffic out here.  We can rely on Earth tracking stations...or maybe someone on the Moon Base...to puzzle out where the rocket was headed.  We need to get what we've recovered back to one of the orbital factories so they can put together enough planes to let us reconstitute Fox Squadron.  One experienced fighter squadron is not going to last long the next time the aliens attack...I wish I could say I had enough faith in Revolt Squadron to take up the slack, but there are just too many green pilots.  We can't turn this into a repeat of Japan's World War II experience and keep throwing away all our best pilots and hoping that the newcomers somehow manage to somehow make up for their lack of experience in enthusiasm."  His tone was grim.

It often was, but it was apparent the loss of Fox Squadron...and the destroyer James Madison...hit him hard.  Anastasia nodded, her eyes on the deck as the captain's tone, more than his words, made her feel chastised.  The fate of the whole planet in our hands, perhaps, and I want to run off after a few rebels?  There wouldn't have been enough of them on board to even man a fighter squadron, much less set up some kind of attack...

Lt. Commander Ritter said nothing as he stood by...his expression was inscrutable, but he added, "Excellent call, Captain.  We have to keep our focus on the task at hand."

Capt. Wilson looked at him, and said nothing, but nodded in response.