Chapter 13

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ESS London (CSV-7)
226 AMU from Omar
June 7, 2487, 2312 UT

"Flight Quarters! Flight Quarters! All hands man your Flight Quarter stations for the launching of spacecraft," came the announcement over the ship's intercom. In the flight bay, men and women moved around, preparing the bay and the spacecraft for launch. This was the moment everyone on the ship had been waiting for since the invasion began. Now, they moved with determination, ready to help those on Omar IV.

Chris Davenport lowered his 5'9" frame into his spacecraft looking over and seeing Donald Franklin strapping himself into his SF-112. The pilots were ready. For the past two days, all they could do was wait. Now, they could finally do something and Chris was pumped. Chris started his LX-15 engines and began to go through his preflight checklist. As he worked his way down the list, checking various systems and configuring the spacecraft for flight, he felt the clamp lock onto his SF-112. The clamp pulled his spacecraft into the line of other craft waiting to be launched.

"Charlie Flight, this is Charlie Leader, report," Chris ordered over the flight's comm frequency. All five of the other pilots, four men and a woman reported that they were ready to launch. "Okay then Charlie Flight, let's go get them."

An alarm sounded as the Flight Bay's light turned from green to flashing amber and the bay crew cleared the bay. Minutes later, the SF-112 shook as air was removed from the bay and the flight bay doors were opened. The light turned read and, in pairs, the spacecraft were launched from the carrier.

It took almost ten minutes for all the craft to be launched, but finally the twenty-four SF‑112s and twelve SA-18s turned toward Omar and accelerated to 100 AMU. The pilots settled in for a flight that would take over two hours with nervous anticipation of the upcoming fight.

Transport Vehicle
Twenty Miles Southwest of Naval Base Quebec, Omar IV
June 8, 2487, 0318 Local, 0018 UT

It had taken hours to coordinate the transports from Naval Base Quebec to pick up the survivors from the Third Regiment. At first, only a few transports were available, but no trooper would leave until there were transports for everyone. Colonel Nelson was proud of his troopers for maintaining their unity despite their defeat.

Dave sat beside Karen Baker. Both were muddy and exhausted. However, the more he got to know about her, the more impressed he was. She was a good trooper, an excellent shot, brave and well-disciplined. And, despite the mud and sweat, very attractive. She seemed to be just as impressed by him. For now, however, they sat in silence, minds struggling to deal with all that had happened in the past couple of days. Now that the fight was over, Dave struggled with the fact he had killed so many Batronians. How many? He didn't even know. He remembered Phil's body, practically cut in half. The images kept flashing through his mind as he struggled to stay awake.

An explosion snapped everyone back to reality. The transport came to a jerking stop and the troopers began to jump out. Dave, filled with dread, grabbed his L-29 and jumped out of the vehicle. Dave heard and saw the Batronian spacecraft as they attacked the convoy. Will this ever end? Dave asked himself.

Command Center
Naval Base Quebec, Omar IV
June 8, 2487, 0320 Local, 0020 UT

"I'm sorry ma'am, we have only two SF-112s left. Sending them out would be sending the pilots to a meaningless death," the Commander of the Thirteenth Fighter Wing told Amber. He was right, of course, but that did not make in any easier to her. She looked around the table hoping to hear any suggestions on how to help the nearby troopers, but there was none.

"Okay. Then let's do this. Load anyone we can find with an SL-21s into a transport and get out there and help our troopers," Amber ordered.

"Aye, ma'am," a Lieutenant at the table said. He got up and moved to a comm unit.

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