"You still holding up?" I yelled into my headset

"Barely," she replied, "I didn't finish adjusting the weapons systems. Shields are holding."

"Coming for ya!" I smiled as I flew my tiny fighter over her much larger ship. Even in the times of chaos, nothing can distract me from the onset of euphoria that comes from soaring thousands of feet above the ground. I pulled a barrel roll as I dive attacked the fighter bomber on her left flank. I screeched my joy as I saw it erupt in flames and fall from the sky.

"Yes! RT, I need you on..."

There was no RT. My best friend and wingman was dead. Gone forever. I flipped a few switches and bit my lip, determined not to cry.

"Shuttle A-6, I need you on my upside. I'm going for the deathspin manoeuvre."

"Is that really wise?" She responded, "I don't know how to cover you. The person who did that didn't—"

"The person who did that is gone, A-6, and I'll tell you that while he can never be replaced, someone else can do what he did on this occasion. Just keep doing what you're doing and cloak on my signal. Follow my orders and you'll be fine."

I didn't wait for her affirmative. I flipped myself over and gave the enemy the shot to my fighter's underbelly that they couldn't resist. They took it. I shut off the engines and deployed the smokescreen canisters as I began to fall. Of course, my ship was in perfect working order. I just needed it to look broken. The world swirled before me as I fell. Watching the whorl of color was rather calming, in a strange way. I glanced toward the flashing dial, the one telling me that I was falling too fast.

20,000 feet. Still have time.

19,000 feet. I reached into the back.

18,000 feet. I felt for my bag.

17,000 feet. "Shuttle A-6, divert all available power to your underbelly shields."

"What?"

"Just do it"

16,000 feet. I found the picture I was searching for. My last picture of myself with him. I held it to my chest as I re-engaged the engines and pulled up. I rocketed skyward.

"Shuttle A-6, engage cloaking mechanism"

I saw her ship flicker from visibility from the corner of my eye. From the other side, I noticed the enemy bombers on my tail. Coming closer. Opening up a barrage of gunfire. I continued the vertical climb, g-force crushing my body into the seat. I thanked the force for dampeners, or I would have been crushed flat in that moment. I locked my eyes back to where the freighter had been, calculating its current location. I watched my enemy building speed to catch me. I prayed that my calculations were right. Thankfully, I was ok this time. I whizzed past it's location, continuing vertically.

"Shuttle A-6, you may feel a slight bump."

I smiled as I heard the explosions behind me.

After listening to her stream of foul language relating to two fighters crashing into her hull being a little more than a "slight bump", we circled back around the facility to see the damage. The result was horrible. The building I had grown up in, learned so much in, even explored it's every nook and cranny of hidden passages, was engulfed in flames. I suppressed my tears as I turned the ship to fly away. The war was over, yes, but at what cost? We had lost, our ranks divided from the inside.

Is it really victory if you killed your every ally to get there?