Reflection

Posted on Sat Mar 26th, 2016 @ 6:19am by Colonel S'er'in'e

Mission: By Dawn's Early Light
Location: Hanger Bay
Timeline: Current

Having been cleared by the on site medics S'er'in'e found himself in his office, the battle had taken a considerable toll of the pilots and craft. As he looked out of the window overlooking the Hanger Bay he couldn't help but notice the many vacant spots where fighters used to sit, in some areas he could make out faint outlines where boot skuffs had marked out the edges of the craft. His own fighter sat wounded and broken, supported on one side by a lift block to support it level and straight.

Of the over 240 pilots he deployed to this engagement, 63 didn't return, 19 were rescued from ejecting and 102 craft were too badly damaged to repair, it was unsure yet if his own would be amongst that number. The final craft had been landed for over an hour now and on his console were three scrolling lists of names of killed and wounded. War was terrible no matter who won or lost, a price was paid by both in blood and this was no different. As most leaders did S'er'in'e because to second guess himself, wondering if he took every correct action, gave the right orders. Most of all he wondered if by launching everyone including the least experienced was he himself directly responsible for their deaths? As a leader he was responsible for the lives of those under him, would he have been right to keep the least experienced ones back?

Of course this was a double edged sword S'er'in'e knew and the enemy was determined, larger in size and number, a David and Goliath of the modern era.

He walked out of his office and down the line between rows where fighters used to sit, ever ready, prepared to go, now vacant or occupied with craft battered and bruised. With Sickbay facilities teaming with civilian and fleet wounded S'er'in'e was fortunate that some medical staff were already present. Anyone with medical training from the crews were lending a hand which was good to see.

"Major." S'er'in'e turned to see one of the ground crew holding a report for him. "Update for you."

"Thank you." He looked down to read it not noticing the individual departing to return to his duties. Another two had died from injuries making the total now 65.

It was part of the job, every pilot knew that the one take off they make that day could be the last. Still the letters to family lay ahead and as the CAG it fell to him to do. As he returned to his office he stopped by his bay where within lay the crippled Caitian fighter afforded him from the Homeworld. It's battered ruin of a wing, propped up by supports, panels missing and consoles hooked up to nearly every data point on that side made for a poor and disheartening view.

He sat down at his computer and the doors closed, the list of the dead displayed on one screen to his left. 65 letters to write and he didn't want the generic letter but something personal, individual. His door chime sounded, he pressed the button and the door opened to reveal his crew chief.

"How are things going Chief?" S'er'in'e asked.

"Slow Major, slow." He wiped his brow and in doing so leaving a streak of grime. "She's repairable, but she wont be flying any time soon I'm afraid. Most of her components are fine but that wing is a no go. There is nothing we can salvage from it, some parts we can replicate from our stores, they wouldn't be Caitian in manufacture but would do just as well. The rest though will need replacing from you Homeworld. I've scanned your fighter and I have a complete and detailed list of the damage, maybe they can send replacements?"

"I will send it as soon as I am able Chief." There was no denying the mood of the giant feline.

"You shouldn't blame yourself, you did your best as they did too."

"I know, when I took this posting I knew that losses would happen and in battle they are a certainty, but some of these people I heardly knew beyond what I read here, a few I didn't even meet before and now it is too late." S'er'in'e spoke as he looked out from his office to the hanger floor.

"Im sure they saw you when you first turned up Major, you are kind of hard to miss. We know the risks when we put the uniform on. We know you got extra training underway before the battle because Lt. Mason got it going, you saw a defiency and you acted to correct it. Better to have done something than nothing at all, don't you think?"

"Indeed Chief, indeed." S'er'in'e answered knowing the Chief had a point.

"Ill leave you to it Major." The Chief put the list of parts needed for the fighter on S'er'in'e's desk then walked out.

S'er'in'e turned a few minutes later to look at the list and rightfully so, some parts indeed had to be made on the Homeworld. Then another thing came to mind, he didn't let Samanthia know he was back, he didn't want her to know about his fighter because then she would worry, he wondered if the In-Laws as Humans put it knew already of the state of things.

Still, he had 65 letters to write, he'd better begin.