Three Square Meals Ch. 100

"Tashana will keep an eye on her," Alyssa explained, as John watched the Maliri pistoleer flank Rachel. "She said that the Kintark army have started surrendering too. They've been ordered to throw down their weapons and retreat to their landing site on the plateau... I figure with the state the Terran forces are in, they're not going to be able to take care of prisoners."

John smiled at her and patted her on the shoulder. "Good thinking. Tempers will be running hot on the Terran side... we want to avoid any further massacres."

Alyssa nodded absent-mindedly as she stepped back to stare at the savage rents across his breastplate, then walked around him to look at the brutal tear across his back. Many of the other armour plates were cracked or badly dented from the battering he'd taken against Baledranax.

"I didn't realise how close that was," she muttered, sounding upset. "Why didn't you just let us take him down from the start?!"

"I didn't want to risk drawing his attention to you," John explained, gathering her in his arms. "I thought I could take him alone before he blocked our powers ..."

Alyssa looked deeply worried as she said, "Yeah, and what the fuck did that? I didn't think there was anything powerful enough to knock out our psychic abilities!"

"I noticed a device light up on the Emperor's back just before our powers were blocked," he replied, remembering the start of the fight. "I managed to take it out and got all my powers back. Baledranax didn't look very happy when it exploded."

The blonde gave him a grim smile. "Yeah, I bet."

"Vice Admiral Blake!"

John turned to see an older woman in an Admiral's uniform hurrying across the courtyard towards them. He glanced back at Alyssa and said, "I was hoping to put off speaking to High Command for a few hours. I guess that plan's out the window."

*I'll go check on the girls,* she replied, meeting his gaze. *Try and speak to Dana and Calara as soon as you can. They both need you.*

*Are they alright?* John asked with concern.

She gave him a sad smile. *They just need to talk to you. This isn't something I can really help them with... sorry.*

*No problem, thanks for letting me know,* he said gratefully, releasing her from his arms and watching as she bounded away.

The older woman approached and John turned to face her then nodded in greeting. "Admiral Maybridge isn't it? I think Charles introduced us after the award ceremony. It's good to see you again."

She paused in front of him, her eyes widening when she saw the huge claw marks gouged across his chest. "How... how did you even survive that?"

John gave her a wry smile. "I guess I'm tougher than I look."

Maybridge's gaze flicked to his face and he saw a sudden look of wonder there, the woman going quiet as she seemed to forget whatever it was that had brought her over.

He waited patiently for a moment, then said, "I need to have a long talk with the Admiralty after this battle, but I've got some really important things to take care of first. Was there something you wanted to speak to me about before I go?"

Shaking off her awestruck daze, she hesitated for a second then blurted out, "Thank you for saving us!" Steadying herself, she continued in a calmer manner, "Thank you, John, for everything you've done today. I know you probably have a terrible impression of High Command after the way Buckingham treated you, but we didn't all think that way, and didn't even know what he was up to."

John let out a heavy sigh. "I know Devereux tried to warn me what was happening. I just wish... well, I guess it's too late for that now."

"We didn't know," Maybridge said, stepping forward and placing her hand on his arm. "Please believe me, most of us had no idea what Buckingham was doing. The first we heard of the Kintark invasion was last night and none of us had any way of contacting you." Her face fell, shadowed with grief as she added, "I lost my niece on Port Medea... I had no idea until yesterday..."

"I'm sorry for your loss," John said with sympathy. He studied the forlorn woman for a moment, then continued, "There's a lot more people still in danger though. Our main priority is to turn around the fleets that have left the Kirrix border and send them reinforcements."

"What about a replacement Fleet Admiral?" she asked tentatively. "The chain of command is broken."

"That doesn't matter for now," John replied shaking his head. "We can't just abandon those colonies to the Kirrix... Get those fleets back to the border and start liberating the worlds the Kirrix have invaded before it's too late."

Maybridge nodded and gave him a quick salute before turning to follow his orders. She looked startled as she glanced back over her shoulder and they shared a brief smile.

She raised an eyebrow as she looked at him. "Are you in the running for Fleet Admiral, John?"

He laughed and shook his head. "Hell no!"

"That's a pity," she replied, her expression and tone both serious. With a respectful nod, she pivoted and strode back towards the Citadel at a brisk pace.

John turned to look for the girls, then looked on in astonishment at the scene unfolding in the triage centre. His storm had blown itself out and the clouds had dissipated, so the courtyard was now bathed in glorious sunshine. There was no mistaking the Lionesses amongst the hundreds of soldiers gathered there, as their gleaming white armour sparkled in the light.

Rachel had removed her helmet, letting her long tawny hair tumble down her back. She was bathed in a soft grey aura and walked slowly through the lines of wounded, shrouding all she passed in healing mists. John could hear the startled gasps and cries of wonder from where he stood. The shocked soldiers looked on in awe as the beautiful young woman glided past them, regenerating burned skin and mending wounded flesh as she went.

It seemed that he wasn't the only one who'd grown more powerful in recent weeks. Rachel no longer needed to touch her patients to begin healing them, only needing to gesture at the wounded for their injuries to start regenerating. Like the rest of the soldiers gathered there, he watched and marvelled as the benevolent angel walked amongst the injured, performing one miracle after another.

***

Lieutenant Commander Ryan Murphy fought with the flightstick as his mangled Claymore limped back to the fleetcarrier. With all the damage his gunship had sustained, he could no longer turn to starboard, having lost all the retro-thrusters on the left side. Approaching the open hangar was especially tricky as even the slightest overcorrection meant having to invert the Claymore to nudge the nose back into the right direction.

As the Retribution of Zeus loomed closer, he could see all the damage the Terran flagship had sustained in the battle. The grey titanium hull was scored with dozens of ugly plasma burns, some of which still glowed with a muted verdant light. The upper port quarter of the fleet carrier was completely dark, the lack of any light from windows or retro-thrusters revealing that the Zeus had lost a power regulator in that part of the ship.

"The fleet took a real hammering," Lincoln murmured, sounding subdued.

"Check out the Invictus... Heading 284," Abbott said quietly. "How's that ship still in one piece?!"

Murphy glanced to his left where the white battlecruiser was pulling away from the Terran fleet. Half the engines had been destroyed, making the rear of the ship look lopsided with only three engines remaining on the port side. It looked like almost every part of the ship had been hit by plasma bolts and what had once been a pristine white surface was now pockmarked with hundreds of blackened scars.

His attention was drawn by the Raptor racing past his wing as the gunship headed towards Terra, and he felt a pang of guilt as he watched it leave. After Dana had saved his life, she'd subsequently left his wing to handle the bombers alone, and he'd felt a brief surge of resentment that she would just abandon them like that. He had forgotten all about the Lioness in the frenzied dogfight that followed, but Halifax had talked about what Dana had actually done as the five Claymores returned to the Zeus.

The young Lieutenant had originally thought that she was planning on attacking the carrier group, thereby distracting their fighters and to prevent the bombers from launching at their source. He'd excitedly described how she'd done far more than that, somehow completely obliterating the entire carrier group in several seconds of hellish destruction. There'd been all sorts of wild speculation about how she'd done it, the most common theory being that the Raptor was equipped with some kind of experimental ultimate superweapon. Whatever the reason, Murphy found it hard to reconcile that kind blue-eyed beauty with being capable of an act of such unparalleled carnage, even if it had basically won the battle for the Terran side.

"This is Zeus Flight Control, Claymore wing, you are cleared for landing," Lieutenant Commander Castelo said, welcoming the fighters back to their base with her dulcet tones.

Focusing on the glowing green glidepath on his HUD, Murphy grimaced as he wrestled with the stick, easing the barely-controllable wreck through the yawning hangar doorway. He finally breathed a sigh of relief as the anti-grav buffers slowed his Claymore to a halt and he dipped the nose to touch down on the landing pad.

It was over...

With that realisation the adrenalin left his body and the shakes started. He sucked in a deep breath to try and get his breathing under control, but suddenly he felt like he couldn't breathe... like he was suffocating inside the claustrophobic cockpit. He lurched unsteadily from his seat and pulled off his helmet, letting it drop to the deck with a dull thud.

He slapped his trembling hand down on the airlock emergency release, not having the patience to wait for the DNA scanner. There was a dramatic hiss and the door flew open, letting him escape from the confines of the Claymore. Staggering out onto the wing, he rolled off the edge and sank to his knees, sucking in the relatively fresh air on the flight deck. After the fetid sweat and fear-tainted atmosphere inside his gunship, it was like the sweetest of crisp mountain breezes filling his lungs.

With his eyes closed, Murphy just concentrated on his breathing, trying to calm his racing heartbeat. He was vaguely aware of someone hugging him and when he got himself under control again, he realised that Abbott was on her knees at his side, her arms wrapped around him in a tight embrace.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you..." she kept saying over and over, her eyes filled with tears.

He looked up and saw Halifax, Baker, and Lincoln looking down at him, their faces shadowed with emotion. They nodded, clearly feeling the same way as Abbott.

Murphy patted her on the arm as he glanced up at his wingmen. "I should be the one thanking all of you. You saved my life a couple of times back there... I won't ever forget it."

Lincoln offered him a hand as Halifax and Baker helped Abbott to her feet.

"Sir... we're the only wing that made it back," Lincoln said, his voice quiet.

Halifax glanced over to his right at the nearly deserted flight deck. "Binary, Gator, a couple of his wingmen... but we lost everyone else. None of the Rapier pilots survived... All 400 of them were KIA."

Baker nodded and said, "If you hadn't trained us like you did, there's no way we would've survived. The only reason any of us are still standing here is because of you."

Abbott sniffed as she brushed her hand across her eyes, then gently punched him in the arm. "Will you let us buy you that drink now? Please?"

Murphy gave them a faint smile. "Alright... I promise I'll be there, but could you guys give me a minute?"

They nodded their understanding and walked away towards the maintenance gantry.

Alone again, Murphy sat on the edge of his Claymore's remaining wing in quiet contemplation. Angel, Romeo, and Snakebite were gone, but he'd done his best to honour their memory by saving those four young lieutenants instead. He could feel the burden of guilt lifting... In his heart, he knew that Commander Angela Summers, the kind-hearted woman who'd taken a fresh young rookie under her wing, would have been proud of him today.

"Goodbye Angel... rest in peace," he murmured, brushing away the tears.

Pushing himself off the wing, he strode across the maintenance pit towards the stairs leading out. When he reached the upper level, he had planned on jogging to catch up with his wingmen, but stopped at the last moment, glancing back across the flight deck. A sad solitary figure stood by his Claymore, the man lost in grief for his dead comrades.

Murphy's heart went out to his old wingman and he walked around to the steps leading down to Binary's gunship. His friend seemed oblivious to his approach as Murphy placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Binary."

"I thought you were working them too hard," Binary muttered, his eyes filled with self-recrimination. "But you were right and I was wrong... my 'kindness' got all my wingmen killed."

"You can't blame yourself for that," Murphy said, no judgement in his voice. "It's a miracle any of us survived! The Rapiers stood no chance and that left the rest of us ridiculously outnumbered..."

Binary laughed, but there was no humour in that sardonic bark. "It's like we're repeating the same conversation from two weeks ago, except we're on different sides of it now..." He paused and looked Murphy square in the eye. "You told me and I didn't listen; we didn't train hard enough last time... You learned that lesson and I ignored it, but it was four young men that paid the price for my complacency."

"But Binary-"

"I'm done, Ryan. I'm going to resign my commission as soon as I can." He saw that Murphy was going to protest and shook his head. "You can't talk me out of this; my mind's made up."

Murphy knew just how heavy that oppressive burden of guilt could be and while he didn't agree with his old wingman, he could see how resolute he was. "I'm going to miss you, Binary. Thanks for looking out for me these past few weeks, I'm sorry I was so ungrateful."

Binary gave him a tight smile and shook his head, then pulled him into a hug. "Take care of yourself, Leprechaun... Angel would be very proud of you today."

Even though Murphy had just had similar thoughts, it made a world of difference to have his friend validate them too. Binary nodded to him, then turned and walked away. Murphy watched him leave, knowing that his friend needed some time and space to deal with his feelings of guilt and grief. He wasn't going to let him go without a fight though; maybe Gator could guide Binary into an instructor's position at the Academy instead of quitting. After all, training new recruits had been Murphy's salvation, so perhaps it would work for his friend too.

Murphy glanced around the painfully empty flight deck, suddenly feeling very alone as he realised he was the last survivor of Squadron 260. What the Kintark had nearly accomplished at Regulus, those bastards had come damn close to finishing at Terra. He knew there was no way he'd escape his fate a third time; nobody was that lucky.

Then Murphy had a sudden epiphany... the Kintark were done! They weren't some unstoppable nemesis that would keep hunting him down. The Kintark had thrown their all at the Terran Federation and they'd been crushed... reduced to nothing more than a spent force in the galaxy. He'd played his part, avenging his fallen wingmen by helping to bring the Empire down. Feeling unburdened for the first time in weeks, he wanted to celebrate just being alive.

Binary might be in a very different emotional place, but there were four young lieutenants that he knew were waiting for him. He left the Flight Deck with a spring in his step, finally feeling like he could look towards the future instead of dwelling in the past.

***

Sergeant Gibbons checked over Wessex one last time, making sure she was comfortable and not in any pain. He wanted to pick her up and carry her over to the triage station, but his chest hurt too much for that and he didn't want to drag her again.

"Hold tight, Commander. I'll be right back with a medic," he said soothingly, glancing with a frown at her blood-soaked dressing one last time.

Wessex nodded and turned her head away, mumbling under her breath, "Can't do anything... there's no chance now."

"You'll be fine, I promise!" he insisted, concerned that she seemed to think her injury was fatal. "They'll fix you up, Commander."

She didn't look back and slumped lower against the bunker wall. It hurt every time she looked away from him like that, and he couldn't help feeling that she blamed him for her injury. He was part of her personal retinue and his sole job had been to protect her and keep her safe. No wonder she couldn't look at him, Wessex must really hate him for allowing her to get hurt.

With a heavy heart he rose to his feet, glancing around one last time to check there weren't any Kintark soldiers lurking in the vicinity. Satisfied that Wessex would be safe where she was, he strode down the ramp to the courtyard and headed towards the Citadel. There seemed to be some sort of commotion going on at the triage station, and amongst the throng of grey-uniformed soldiers he could make out the sparkling white body armour of the Lionesses.

As much as Gibbons wanted to see the saviours of Terra and thank them profusely, he had more important duties to attend to. Glancing around the crowd in search of a medic, he spotted their distinctive red insignia on the jacket of a man, an emblem of two snakes and wings surrounding a rod. To his surprise, the medic just seemed to be gaping at one of the Lionesses in awe. Gibbons didn't think much of the man's professionalism; the medic was just ignoring his patients to stare in open-mouthed astonishment at the brunette. The Lionesses were all gorgeous, but that was still no excuse for such behaviour.

Gibbons glanced around the crowd to look for another medic, but when he spotted a woman with the same red caduceus on her jacket, she was also gazing at the Lioness with the same stupefied expression. Gritting his teeth in irritation, Gibbons walked up to the first medic he'd seen and said curtly, "I need urgent medical attention for Commander Madison Wessex. She lost her arm to a plasma blast..."

The medic ignored him, still watching the white-armoured brunette in fascination.

Gibbons poked a finger in his chest. "Hey, snap out of it! I need your help!"

The medic jumped at the contact and turned to face him, blinking in surprise. "What?"

Stifling a sigh of frustration, Gibbons said with as much patience as he could muster, "My Commander lost her arm. I've stabilised her, but she still needs urgent medical attention."

The man snorted with laughter and shook his head. "Why are you asking me? Go ask Rachel... she just made me obsolete!"

Gibbons wanted to throttle the man, but he felt a hand on his shoulder, and when he looked to his left he saw a familiar face looking at him with concern.

"Sergeant, where's Commander Wessex?" the Lion asked, studying him intently.

"O-over there, Sir," Gibbons stammered, pointing back towards the ruined bunker, his jaw clenching for a second at the band of fire in his chest. "I just need a medic to take a look at her and make sure she's alright. I'll try and find someone to help bring her to the medical station."

Suddenly the Lion was flanked by a blonde and brunette. With one look at their ravishingly beautiful faces, Gibbons could see why the medics had been stunned into inactivity.

They shared a glance with the Lion, who then smiled at him. "You're in good hands, Sergeant. Rachel and Alyssa will look after your Commander for you. If you'll excuse me, I need to check on the Maliri."