Varmos was relieved when their void wing returned. It had been a tense six hours as Audacity sat and waited amidst a cluster of asteroids on the edge of Knossos. They had been using maintenance pods to peek around the asteroids and maintain awareness of their surroundings, and not an hour after their void wing left, they saw a noticeable haze amidst the stars.

"I want to get be underway in twenty minutes," Varmos told Strabland and Stoker.

"That doesn't leave us a lot of time to get things fastened down," Strabland said cautiously.

"I know, but I don't want to stick around any longer. They might have noticed the increased minovsky effect with all the mobile suits coming back."

"Are they close enough for that?" Stoker asked.

"They're close enough for us to see the fog of their own minovsky effect and their sensors are better than ours. Besides, if they're recovering survivors from their base about now that means they're probably going to start looking for us."

"Understood, Sir."

"Alright," Strabland agreed. "We'll do the best we can."

Varmos turned his attention to his own bridge officers. "Navigation, do you have our course plotted?"

Lt. Hurler nodded. "Aye, Sir. Which would you like me to put in?"

"The most direct route to the current. They probably won't have anyone in position to block it yet since they'll be worried about recovering their survivors, but if we don't beat them there they might leave a rear guard."

"Understood, Sir. ETA at cruising speed approximately nineteen hours."

Varmos grimaced. That was too slow. He nearly ordered Hurler to recalculate for full speed but stopped himself. Audacity's engines were of a civilian design. They weren't intended to operate like that for extended periods like warship engines were. If he slagged her engines getting to the current they would be in serious trouble on the other side.

"Understood," he said, trying his best to sound calm. "Lieutenant Tyrian, let me know if you see the enemy so much as twitch. I don't want to be caught off guard."

"Yes, Sir."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sahna was relieved to be back in Audacity's hangars. She was exhausted, her mind addled from having to deal with the pain in her shoulder and arm for more than three hours.

After shutting her Zaku down she opened the airlock door and unfastened her broken harness. The action shifted her body and aggravated her ruined shoulder. She had almost gotten used to the pain now but it still hurt.

Hypori appeared in the airlock tunnel and poked her head into the cockpit. "Scar, are you – Blessed Deliverers! What happened?"

Sahna's beak was clamped too tightly from the pain to respond. Hypori pushed herself in a little further and helped her get unfastened.

"Take it easy," she said gently and helped Sahna out of her seat. "Easy, nice and slow."

Gingerly, Sahna was removed from her seat and navigated to the airlock tunnel. A small crowd awaited them outside as Hypori pulled her out through the airlock door. Audible gasps were heard over the radio when they saw her condition.

Sahna lazily turned her head to the nearest technician. "My harness broke. Could you fix it please?"

She couldn't tell if he responded because Marie began shouting orders.

"Hypori, Tog, get her to sickbay now! Everyone else, help get things fastened down!"

Sahna was pulled gently across the hangar to the airlock. As they waited for it to cycle, Hypori asked her again, "what happened?"

Sahna grunted. "Got ambushed and that shuttle had hidden missile launchers. I got hit and my harness broke. I was thrown half out of my seat so I couldn't reach my controls. Hit an asteroid and broke my shoulder, I think. I managed to get the Zaku though."

After Callie and Dirk found her, they'd brought the shuttle back to the base where survivors were being taken care of and the Marines searched what remained of the base. After the search parties returned, they boarded the shuttle and took three prisoners. At least bringing the assault shuttles hadn't been a total waste of time.

Halfway to sick bay, the alert came that the ship was about to get underway. Hypori grumbled something then she and Dirk grabbed a set of handholds, Sahna held between them. Hypori held her good arm and Dirk had his arm wrapped around her waist.

They shifted as the ship began to accelerate. Sahna hoped there wasn't an immediate threat that prompted the ship to leave so soon after they got back. Nobody was in particularly good shape to fight.

After the ship finished its acceleration and reached cruising speed they resumed their trek to sick bay.

Things were already busy when they got there. The surgeon commander and a nurse were cutting open a ravaged pilot suit to get at the pilot inside.

"Better get me out of this suit before they cut it open," Sahna said. "We don't have any spares."

Hypori grimaced but Dirk already began helping her out of it, getting her left arm free after she unzipped it before they started to work on her injured right arm.

Sahna hissed and her eyes watered from the pain but she didn't tell them to stop. They tried to be as gentle as they could but there was no magic way to get her out of the suit without it hurting.

A nurse came over just as they finished. "I'll take over from here. If you're not injured, please leave. We're busy here."

Hypori folded Sahna's flight suit in her hands. "We'll come see you later, okay?"

Sahna flashed green and let the nurse lead her to one of the medical capsules, a cylindrical shaped pod with large transparent panels designed to hold the injured. They could also be used for surgery if needed, but there were dedicated surgical pods for that, and it looked like the pilot they'd carved out of the pilot suit was headed for one of them now.

The sick bay door opened and an armed marine entered. Sahna's nurse gave the soldier a dirty look until an inkling in ragged and torn civilian clothing floated inside, followed closely by an octoling and two more armed marines. All three marines were female.

The inkling stopped at the waiting area and gently helped the octoling find her place. It was only then Sahna noticed the octoling's bulging belly.

"You're the ones from the shuttle," she murmured.

The inkling turned and looked at her. This had to be Chella. "Yeah. Are you the one who rescued us?"

Sahna winced as the nurse helped remove her arm from her flight suit. "Well, one of the people, I guess. I'm the one that killed your pilots."

"Not my pilots," Chella hissed. "I'm a prisoner. If I'd been there much longer I might have ended up like Livia." Her head turned to the octoling next to her.

Livia looked frightened, both her hands were grasping her belly, and she kept looking around as if everyone around her were a threat. Of course, any octoling would feel anxious being on a Federation ship.

With help from the nurse, Sahna's shirt was removed, and she grimaced at the damage. Sahna's entire right arm and shoulder was a hideous dark purple.

"And what happened to her?"

Chella's eyes darkened. "Gragger, that's the pirate leader you killed, had a whole bunch of barren octolings as his sex partners, but Rosi, that's the pirate in your brig right now, convinced him to get one girl who wasn't so they could have a child in the family. At some point, they got Levia from a ship they raided and…"

Sahna's mantle turned a dark, volcanic red, broken only by the occasional putrid green-brown of utter disgust.

"Glad we killed him," she said in a low voice.

"I didn't cry about it," Chella said. "Don't think Rosi was torn up about it either."

"Who cares what she thinks?" Sahna snarled. "Isn't she the reason she was raped?"

The nurse lightly smacked her. Her mantle told her to calm down.

Biting her lip, Chella replied. "Kinda', but she might've been by the rest of the crew anyway. I probably would've been too if she hadn't wanted somebody to take care of Levia for her. She was scary but she was nicer than the rest of them."

Sahna huffed. Chella had obviously bonded somewhat with her captor, probably out of necessity, but she wasn't feeling nearly as generous.

At first, Sahna couldn't imagine becoming friendly with an enemy or anyone vile enough to be a pirate, but then she remembered Kalisha, the Octarian ace she had bested in battle and how pleasant she'd been. They hadn't exactly bonded, but Sahna had developed respect for her. She couldn't respect a pirate though.

"Does she speak inklish?"

"Who, Levia? A little but she's spent most of her life in the occupied territories, so even though she's a citizen, she isn't fluent. I speak Octese pretty good, though, and I've had a lot of practice talking with her."

Chella patted Levia's hand and said something to her in Octese. Levia looked at Sahna, her eyes widening then spoke back to Chella.

"She says she's grateful to your for your restraint and the extra risk you took to save us."

For the first time in a long time, Sahna felt a swelling of genuine pride and accomplishment. Prior to the war, this was the sort of thing people joined the armed forces for: to rid the universe of scum like pirates and rescue people like Chella and Levia. It was what she had always imagined herself doing.

"You're Federation Citizens. It was my duty. But, you're welcome."

One of the doctors came from the surgical pod, replacing his gloves without taking his eyes off Sahna.

"I need to put you under before I reset your arm," he said.

Sahna bit her lip anxiously and flashed green. The nurse undid the straps holding her in the medical capsule and they helped her to the second surgical pod. She tried not to look into the one already occupied, but she could see a lot of blood floating around inside it.

"Will I be out long?" Sahna asked as she was secured in the surgical pod.

The doctor put the mask over her face and smiled down at her. "About six hours. See it as a chance for a nap. Now, breathe in slowly, one, two, three…" And before Sahna realized it, she was out.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Orest was let inside the shipmaster's office with minimal fuss but the door sentry had issue with letting his kaaslan inside.

"Just let them in," Shipmaster Ferozi snapped irritably.

Reluctantly, the sentry permitted their entry. Shipmaster Ferozi half-glared at the two of them, as if insulted that they thought they needed to carry submachine guns to protect their charge on her ship.

"It's just procedure, Captain," Orest insisted. "They are only following the rules. They mean no offence."

Ferozi huffed then met his eyes. "We've detected the ship you mentioned. It's heading for the current."

"They're cutting and running," Orest murmured, half to himself. "They must have detected you as well if they're leaving so soon after their attack. Not even taking time to lick their wounds."

Ferozi's tentacles twisted. "Maybe, but we aren't in a position to do much about it. If they do have mobile suits it would be too risky to attack. We came here empty so we could accommodate your forces and the hangars are crowded so launching will be difficult."

"I appreciate that, Shipmaster."

"Then I hope you also appreciate that my orders are to get you, your personnel, and your prototypes back to Neo Byzantium safely. As much as I'd like to destroy that ship for using our own mobile suits against us, with just us alone it would be foolhardy."

"Again, I appreciate that, but surely you agree that we cannot simply let them get away with all the data they've acquired on not only our base but our prototypes as well. I'm not suggesting we attack, not on our own, but if we could follow them from a distance, track them so other friendly forces could intercept, then we could accomplish the same goal without undue risk."

Ferozi narrowed her eyes. "And what if they attack us while we're following them?"

"Unlikely. If they thought they had the strength to do that, then they wouldn't have run away now, they would have attacked us here, away from any help. They would have taken some time to recover and recuperate, but they wouldn't have run."

"Maybe," Ferozi conceded. "But if we give chase and don't attack them, that might be an indication to them that we aren't confident in attacking either."

"But by then they won't be able to afford attacking us because we will be close to friendly territory. It is the Collective that controls space now, not the CSF, and they know it. Their tactics may seem aggressive but that only applies to their void wing. The ship itself has avoided combat, largely. When fighting the pirates it kept its distance, firing at range rather than closing to where it could make full use of its weapons, and that blunder allowed us to get a shot at them and damage the ship."

He leaned closer to Ferozi. "Whoever's over there, they are more than willing to gamble the lives of their pilots but not their ship and crew. The only way they could confidently take down your ships would be if they brought their own ship in with its heavy guns to do the damage after their void wing tried to disable your own guns. That's what an aggressive captain might do, but this one, he won't risk his precious carrier being shot at."

Ferozi stared at him, assessing his words, comparing them against her own logic, then she slowly nodded. "Fine then, we can follow from a distance and direct friendly forces to intercept them."

Orest nodded. "Thank you, Shipmaster. I'll make sure my people get settled, and if the time comes, we will be ready to defend your ships, but I have a feeling that we will be the ones attacking."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Audacity's aft observation deck didn't offer much of a view. As broad as the window was the flare of the engine blocks obscured half the view of space. Not that it really mattered to Rauld. He wasn't there for the view.

He floated against the opposite wall, knees folded up to his chest, staring out the window but not actually looking at the stars beyond.

He couldn't get his mind off of Mouse, the fact that she was gone, that she had died under his command, died protecting him, and it had been needless.

He thought about that moment over and over again in his head. Had he just ignited his attitude thrusters, he might have been able to dodge the rocket, even if he had still been stuck to Sunni. On the other hand, the rocket might have been aimed at Sunni in the first place and they both may have still been taken out.

Regardless of how it happened, it had been because of his orders, because he'd decided to try and save Sunni's disabled Ball despite how frantic and dangerous the situation was, getting Mouse killed, and Tank critically injured. Regardless of what happened, he'd made the wrong move and it had cost someone their life.

That wasn't what a Millihelm was supposed to do. A proper Millihelm like his father or brother would have saved everyone, would not have allowed anyone to get hurt under their command. He was a failure. How could he ever face his family again?

"Oh, so there was someone up here."

Rauld lifted his head and found Hypori floating gently towards him.

"What are you doing here?"

She flashed grey. "Nothing much, just trying to clear my head a bit before I visited Scar. I'm kinda' squeamish so I need time to brace myself before I visit sick bay. I saw someone break their toe once and threw up." She settled beside him. "You okay?"

He almost said he was fine but that would have been a blatant lie and she wouldn't have fallen for it. Honestly, right now, who else would he be able to talk to?

"No. Our unit took a lot of casualties. We lost Mouse."

In fact, Rauld's flight had come off better than most. Baker Flight had lost three pilots, including Lt. Flemmer. The two survivors were being transferred to Grinner's Gooser flight, which had otherwise been reduced to just Grinner and Tambler. Sealer's flight had lost Rullar and Cooker. From their original strength of twenty, they had been reduced to eleven active pilots.

Hypori's expression softened, her mantle turned to a soothing blue, like the ocean. "I heard. You've got one of yours in sick bay, right?"

"Yeah, Tank. She got shredded pretty bad. Almost lost Sunni too. We all might have died if you hadn't been there."

He saw regret flash across Hypori's mantle as her gaze left him and focused on the view outside.

"That's kind of the roughest part of being in our unit. Ever since we started, most of what we've had to do is go in and try to save lives. A lot of the time we wonder, if we'd just been a little bit faster or less careful, we might have been able to save this or that person, or even a whole bunch of people. It's what a lot of people count on us to do."

Rauld felt his own troubles ease a little. "That sounds like a lot of pressure."

Hypori smiled and flashed grey. "It's self-inflicted sometimes but yeah, I guess. There are a lot of expectations placed on us I never experienced back in the 33rd. There, we were expected to just do a job, not pull off miracles."

Rauld could sympathize with that. It was similar to how everyone expected him and everyone who grew up rich to be exceptional or somehow deserving of their privileged upbringing. His family took that expectation seriously but more than that they saw their own family image as people who excelled and achieved greatness even among their peers. The latter was what mattered most to him. He just didn't want to be stuck in his father and brother's shadow.

"How do you handle it? I mean, it gets to you, right?"

Hypori pulsed blue and crossed her arms. "Sometimes. It definitely did this time. But that's why we always do our best. That way, even if we mess up, we at least won't regret that. We tried our hardest and saved what people we could." She looked at Rauld again, this time with a wry smile. "And as a certain someone in our unit says: 'if you do your best all the time, you might mess up but you'll do no wrong'."

Rauld looked at her questioningly. "I'm not sure how accurate that is."

"Doesn't matter. The point is to not worry about anything else, just focus on doing your job as best you can, whatever it is. And sometimes bad things happen and you can't do anything about it. And whatever happens, you just have to try and do better next time, because you're still alive."

Rauld looked out the view port, thinking Hypori's words over in is head. "So what should I do?"

"Figure out how you messed up and do better. You may have lost somebody but you still have other people counting on you. And don't let outside forces affect how well you do your job."

"Outside forces like what?"

She flashed grey. "I dunno. Maybe you have the entirety of the CSF's mobile suit program riding on your shoulders, maybe the fact that an entire battlefront hinges on you scaring the enemy so bad they ink in their own boots, or maybe trying to disprove other people's belief that your just a pop star's entourage."

Rauld frowned, confused at those examples, until he realized that those were things Hypori had experienced in her own career. So she too was dealing with outside expectations, not just what the military expected of her and her unit. And Rauld realized that he also had an outside influence affecting him: the expectations of his family and his own desire to live up to them, his desire to achieve glory for his family. No, glory for himself.

In that moment, Rauld realized he would have given up all his glory if it meant bringing Mouse back. What did glory matter, really? Prestige? Fame? Honour? Those things seemed so selfish in nature all of a sudden, and none of them protected people from bullets.

Someone else appeared on the observation deck. It was Tog.

"Ready?" He asked Hypori.

Her face brightened with a smile and her mantle turned a sunny yellow. "You bet. You wanna' come with us, Rauld? You have someone in sick bay too, don't you?"

Rauld thought for a moment. Part of him didn't want to. He didn't want to see Tank, her injuries, a symbol of his failure. But going was probably what the CSF expected of an officer, more than that, it's something he expected of himself as an officer.

He uncurled his limbs and flashed green. "Sure."

When they got to sick bay, Rauld was surprised to see the often rumoured but previously unseen Squid Sisters waiting there. He had seen Marie before, probably met her once or twice when they were children, at some boring party or gala, but seeing her in the full dress of a CSF Lieutenant was something novel. More startling than their presence, however, was Sunni's.

Sunni hovered near Tank's capsule, staring down at her unmoving form through the transparent canopy. She held something tightly in her hand. It was only when Rauld got closer that he realized it was Mouse's necklace.

"Sunni?"

A bit startled, Sunni looked up at him, her dark-purple mantle flashing once. She looked somewhat embarrassed.

Trying to think of a way to diffuse the situation he simply asked, "are you visiting Tank?"

She flashed green and her gaze fell down to the capsule.

Tank's body was covered in bandages from head to toe. She'd lost a lot of blood and had suffered from some oxygen deprivation too. It was too early to know if she had suffered any permanent damage from that. Seeing her like this though, when she was normally so vital, it drove home just how near to death she'd been.

"Why did you save me?"

Rauld looked at up at Sunni. "Huh?"

"You didn't have to save me," she said, more forcefully. "I was the biggest thorn in your side. You could have easily gotten away with not doing it and letting me die. It was too risky. If you hadn't done it, you'd still have Mouse and I wouldn't be here. Everyone would have preferred I died instead of Mouse. So why?"

Rauld thought that a terrible thing to ask of anyone, especially a comrade and one's superior officer. Then, Rauld remembered his own thoughts up in the observation deck, what his feelings had been, and about his conversation with Hypori.

He glanced at the other ensign. She was with the rest of her team, surrounding one of the other medical capsules. She had helped him out of his own self-loathing funk, now he had to do the same for one of his subordinates.

He tried to think back to that moment he chose to try and save Sunni's life, what had been going through his mind. The truth was, not a whole lot.

"Those things never even entered my head," he admitted. "It's not like I thought I was about to lose Mouse by saving you. And as much a pain in the funnel as you've been, it's not like I ever wanted you to die. I think that's a petty and feeble reason to want death on anyone. Besides, it's not like you've been useless." He pointed at Tank. "You saved her, didn't you?"

Sunni looked down at Tank, her face tightening. "She might still die."

"But she might not. She still has a chance to live because of you. And as much of a pain in the funnel as you've been, you're still my responsibility, a member of my flight, which means you have the right to the same consideration as anyone else, just like Tank is. If you had been the one shot up, we wouldn't have acted any different."

Sunni looked at Tank, at him, then at the necklace in her hand. "She really did care."

Rauld wondered if Sunni really did think that nobody cared about her. She'd always acted like she hadn't cared about anyone else. What kind of environment could she have grown up in to make her that way?

"Let me paraphrase some advice I was given," he said. "Whatever made you think people didn't care about you or that you couldn't care about anyone else, forget it. Seriously, forget about it. That might as well be another life to you, because it doesn't apply to where you are right now. Here, with us, your life means something so quit acting like it doesn't. It's not going to make you feel better, because clearly Mouse thought your life was worth saving."

Sunni looked at Tank and back at him again. "I don't know how to do that."

That was as sad a statement as Rauld had ever heard. How should he answer?

"How about we start with this: you be less of a pain in my funnel and I'll be less of a pain in yours."

She looked at him, and for just a second, thought he saw her smile before she looked back down at Tank, but he was sure he imagined it.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sahna's right shoulder was in a brace. It felt like a series of clamps had been placed along her arm, pining it in place. Her vision was somewhat blurry and her mind was foggy, but she was lucid enough to at least maintain awareness of her surroundings.

"How are you feeling?" Marie asked her.

"Like my arm's in a crock's mouth." Sahna grunted and tried to shift her position, but the straps keeping her securely in the capsule prevented her from moving. "It hurts."

"I saw the footage of what happened. You were lucky that missile didn't do more damage; it hit bang on the cockpit." A flash of regret showed in her mantle and when she spoke again it was much more softly. "Sorry, I shouldn't have sent you alone."

Sahna didn't blame her. Who would've thought a mobile suit piloted by one of the elite White Devils couldn't take on a single shuttle? Nobody expected a Zaku to lag so far behind either.

"How's my machine?"

"Dented. You've developed a habit for running into asteroids."

Sahna glared at the Marie-sounding blob in her vision. "Wasn't my fault this time."

Callie giggled. "She's only teasing. Your cockpit got a bit messed up from the shrapnel and they're having to fabricate a new bracket for your harness, but otherwise everything looks okay. They're welding some armour from the wrecked GM over where the missile hit."

"Messed up your fancy logo," Hypori said cheekily. "You have a knack for getting hit in the chest and somehow living."

"I wouldn't make a habit of that," Marie remarked. "How's your condition?"

Sahna sighed. "They have me on a ton of meds to help my shoulder heal and stay in place. Be at least a few more days before it's right and maybe a couple weeks for everything to be completely normal. Flight ready… you'd have to ask the doc. What's everyone else been up to?"

Dirk pointed at Hypori. "This one, flirting."

"That was not flirting," she insisted. "I was offering solicited advice."

"Never said you were good."

"Not here, you two," Callie admonished. "We're in sick bay."

"To bring you up to speed," Marie cut in, changing subject. "We're in the current now. The Captain is trying to decide whether we go to Scylla or back to Gibraltar. We're being followed by what looks like a couple of cruisers. Nothing to worry about yet though."

"I'll be ready when you need me," Sahna replied, woozily but confidently. She realized she probably sounded drunk.

"That's good, because I have a feeling that before we get anywhere safe, we're going to have to fight our way to get there."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Varmos did his best to hide his anxiety. It would hardly help morale if the crew was aware of just how cursed scared their captain was right now. It seemed to be working. Although he detected a hint of anxiousness in the bridge crew around him, all recognizing the danger of their situation, there wasn't actual fear, yet.

They were being pursued by a pair of enemy cruisers and Varmos was certain that, had the enemy not been aware Audacity carried her own mobile suits, they would have attacked by now. That was information they would no doubt pass on to any comrades within reach.

An old, aggressive part of him wanted to turn around and attack them, fighting at a time of his choosing. He was confident his mobile suit forces could take theirs once their repairs were finished but the ships were another matter.

Major Rancher had told him that while they could seriously hurt the ships, they were doubtful they could properly destroy them without some heavy firepower of their own unless they used the few rockets and cannons they had brought with them. Varmos was inclined to agree that they had to use those resources carefully, and for the time being, there was no need to fight. The enemy were just following them, not preparing to attack.

Varmos glanced at the communications console again. It and the others near it had been repaired. Ensign Villni had taken over for Lt. Songwren. He wasn't quite as proficient but he was managing his duties sufficiently well. That wasn't why Varmos kept looking his way, however; he was waiting for a reply from Scylla Command.

They were making for Scylla as a much nearer safe harbour than Gibraltar, he'd sent them an urgent message as soon as they'd left the current, asking for any assistance they could spare and reports on any enemy movements relevant to them. The transmission had only been worthwhile because the correct side of the moon had been oriented towards them at the time. Now they waited for any reply.

"Navigation, estimated arrival for Scylla?"

Hurler was quick to reply. She was anxiously keeping tabs on that too.

"Sir, ETA to the second orbital ring, sixteen hours."

Varmos pressed a button on his command chair, bringing up the navigation screen on the repeater display above him.

Scylla's rotation would have the friendly side of the moon and all the friendly things in orbit on the opposite side by the time they got there at their current velocity, so they were taking a slightly round about way to get there, trying to curve around the moon. It was a risky move in such a slow ship but it made predicting their path more difficult, since they could just as easily head to Gibraltar from this course.

"Captain! We've got a reply from Scylla Command."

Ensign Villni's shout startled everyone on the bridge. Varmos had to take a second to compose himself before he addressed him.

"And?"

The ensign turned slowly in his chair, his face and mantle white. "They say three enemy cruisers are moving to intercept us." He nodded at the repeater display and Varmos saw an icon indicating three enemy Musai-class cruisers, hugging the moon's low orbit, ready to interpose themselves between Audacity and Scylla.

"Why are they staying so low?" Hurler asked.

"Because it's our only avenue of escape, Lieutenant," Varmos said gravely, as the full weight of their situation dawned on him. "Those are only the ships Scylla Command has detected. They most likely have another division of ships coming up to intercept us directly and the only way we can avoid them is by maintaining our current course and skirting the edge of the moon, right where the ships we can see are waiting for us, and I have a feeling they're letting us see them."

Lt. Tyrian checked his sensor screens. "I don't see them yet, Sir."

"And you probably won't for a good ten hours or more. They have to rise up through the orbital rings to get to us so unless we alter course away from Scylla they won't catch us in time."

Hurler examined her navigation screens. "They think we'll turn and head for Gibraltar?"

"Or take a higher, longer route to get to the friendly side of Scylla. Either way, they'd be able to intercept us before we got there."

Hurler's fingers fluttered over her controls as she made new calculations.

"If we go to full speed, we can cut our time down another few hours, Sir." She indicated a new proposed route that took them on a longer journey around Scylla to the upper orbital ring, close enough that reinforcements could reach them.

Varmos flashed red. "No, we're still too slow for that, Lieutenant. Even if we slagged our engines in the attempt, we wouldn't be able to outrun the cruisers. Even the ships we can see would be able to catch us in that time."

Hurler made more calculations and a line indicating an intercept course for the enemy cruisers on their display proved his point. He had to give her points for effort though and actually running the numbers.

The bridge door hissed open and Stoker appeared. "Sir, Boss Strabland reports that the mobile suits still need another six hours to be fully operational but all remaining void craft have crews." His voice trailed off as he read the oppressive mood on the bridge. Varmos gave him a quick summary of the situation, and to his credit, he remained calm.

"I see," he said. "Shall I call a meeting of the senior officers, Sir?"

Varmos rubbed his arm rest, feeling the cushion beneath as if it were some comfort while his guts pretzelled inside his abdomen.

"Not yet," he said softly, then rose from his seat. "You have the bridge, XO."

His bewildered executive officer replied, "a-aye, Sir, I have the bridge."

Varmos went to his office and turned on his computer console. Retrieving a packet of brandy from his cabinet he drank from it as he stared at the screens.

He looked at the navigation chart, the positions of the known ships, known patrol patterns of enemy cruisers on the enemy side of Scylla, trying to think of some way – any way, he could get his ship and crew away safely. In vain.

Strabler's void forces wouldn't be enough to save his ship this time. They didn't have the firepower or the numbers, especially with the 52nd losing half its strength. Any battle would be a hopeless one, even if he was willing to suffer heavy damage to his ship and losses to his crew, and he wasn't.

His mind flashed back to that day, the mass funeral held for the lost members of Thunderhead's crew. The crying faces of parents, spouses, and children, the furious shouts demanding of him why had they died fighting a pointless and hopeless battle, why they had died for nothing. He couldn't do that again, he wouldn't lose more people to a hopeless battle.

He had no choice, he was going to have to surrender.

Author's Notes:

The Federation may have technically won the battle but it wasn't without cost. Sahna herself gets away with a bruised ego and a broken shoulder. Rauld has a lot to deal with but fortunately, Hypori is there with some words of wisdom to help him get through. Sunni might just be going through an attitude change. What do you think?

Do you think Varmos will actually surrender? How will Audacity get out of this jam?