<div><span class="italic">Tombaugh Station</span> was on fire. Atmosphere leaking from multiple hull breaches had been ignited by plasma cannon fire, leaving dozens of orange plumes pouring out of the superstructure. Eventually, they would overcome the station's failing RCS thrusters and compromise its orbit - not that they'd ever get a chance to. The capture of the Shivan cruiser <span class="italic">Taranis</span> should have been a turning point in the war. Instead, it had drawn a counterattack of apocalyptic proportions to <span class="italic">Tombaugh</span>: Basilisk attackers and Shaitan bombers, Manticore interceptors and wing upon wing of Dragon superiority fighters, inbound with engines screaming and shields bloody red. The station's commander had given two orders: first, to scramble all available fighters, and second, to abandon ship. For almost a minute, it seemed that <span class="italic">Tombaugh's</span> air wing might hold off the attack long enough for an orderly evacuation, and then <span class="italic">it</span> arrived.</div><br/>

<div>No one was sure, in the confusion of that battle, who'd first called the ship <span class="italic">Lucifer.</span> It ripped open the subspace barrier with the fury of a supernova, or perhaps its namesake; it hadn't even completed its translation into realspace before it reached out with its weapons - twin beams of superheated plasma that raked across <span class="italic">Tombaugh's</span> hull and left scars of burning metal and atmosphere and bodies in their wake.</div><br/>

<div><span class="italic">Tombaugh's</span> commander ordered her gunners to disengage feed safeties, an emergency measure that would increase their rate of fire for a few minutes before they melted in their housings. Out in the black, the <span class="italic">Lucifer's</span> guns began charging for another volley.</div><br/>

<div><div class="hr"></div></div><br/>

<div>No one had expected Shivans <span class="italic">here</span>, but standing orders across Allied space had been to maintain a heightened state of readiness; if the Alliance's response was disorganized, at least it was quick. Fighter squadrons were the first to arrive, moving to reinforce <span class="italic">Tombaugh's</span> rapidly diminishing air wing, followed by the cruisers <span class="italic">Orff</span> and <span class="italic">Balisong</span> and <span class="italic">Oberon</span> and the Vasudan <span class="italic">Aker</span> and <span class="italic">Mecross</span>. Freighters jumped in next, giving <span class="italic">Tombaugh's</span> escape pods somewhere to dock - and with them came the <span class="italic">Audacious</span> under Lieutenant Kanun "Hatchet" Jers. She was among the last of the Titan-class gunships, and meant to have been decommissioned already, but then the Shivans had appeared and throwing away perfectly good warships became the last thing on anyone's mind. She was outgunned and outmatched here, and had been deployed with a single objective, which Ensign Kravitz, the <span class="italic">Audacious's</span> communications officer already set about executing.</div><br/>

<div>"Captain," Kravitz said - by ancient tradition, a ship's commanding officer was always addressed as "Captain", no matter their rank - "<span class="italic">Tombaugh</span> reports that Admiral Halkins's pod is away, designation Lambda 1, Mercury-class. Epsilon wing is escorting. They're awaiting rendezvous instructions."</div><br/>

<div>As Kravitz gave his report, Jers tapped icons on her plot, highlighting the admiral's escape pod and its escort fighters - two Apollos, only half of the standard four, with one missing its starboard missile pod. Icons of Shivans clashed with icons of Terrans, but most of these Jers could ignore; their orders were to retrieve Lambda 1 and jump clear. A mind long accustomed to the rigor of combat divided the enemy into three categories - irrelevant, relevant, and irrelevant-but-close. Scant seconds later, she had a plan.</div><br/>

<div>"Comms, instruct Lambda 1 to make intercept at best speed. Advise Epsilon that Arjuna wing Basilisks have targeted the objective. Execute immediately: Gunnery, safe point defenses; helm, set half speed. Once Epsilon is five seconds from the merge, hard burn and set turrets for supporting fire."</div><br/>

<div>It was a simple plan, but effective. <span class="italic">Audacious</span> held her fire, leaving Epsilon to hold the Shivans' attention; as they engaged, <span class="italic">Audacious</span> leapt into action, surprising the Shivans with her speed and lobbing missile after missile from her defense emplacements. The enemy floundered, caught up in a flanking maneuver, and while the damaged Apollo caught a plasma burst between the engines, their wingmate was able to finish the job, leaving no immediate threats to the admiral.</div><br/>

<div>It was a simple plan, so of course Murphy had his way with it. In the distance, the <span class="italic">Lucifer</span> continued its bombardment.</div><br/>

<div><div class="hr"></div></div><br/>

<div>"Captain, Admiral Halkins is aboard," the <span class="italic">Audacious's</span> operations officer began, before being cut off by Ensign Kravitz. "Sir, the <span class="italic">Balisong</span> reports Shivan reversions in her ZoC. Her point defenses are saturated and she's requesting cover."</div><br/>

<div>Again, Jers' hand was busy with her plot even before Kravitz had finished his report. The <span class="italic">Aker</span> had burned out, leaving behind a irradiated shell and a cluster of Vasudan escape pods; the <span class="italic">Orff</span> had withdrawn into subspace before her reputation for untimely engine breakdowns could repeat itself. This left the <span class="italic">Balisong</span> to cover an impossibly wide area of space, and she'd ordered her attending freighters away, opting to recover escape pods herself rather than trying to coordinate so many disparate elements. Jers' plot showed the pods hanging close, waiting for somewhere to dock, as <span class="italic">Balisong's</span> few surviving fighters did their best to keep them alive. As she watched, a formation of eight Shivan bombers exited subspace, close enough for <span class="italic">Balisong's</span> gunners to draw firing solutions with the Mark One Eyeball if they had to - which, if the scorch marks around the ship's weapon control center were anything to go by, they very well might.</div><br/>

<div>"Can the <span class="italic">Balisong</span> initiate subspace?", Jers asked; Kravitz relayed her question and the answer almost in one breath. "Not for two and a half minutes, and that would mean abandoning six pods."</div><br/>

<div>There was only one ship that could get to them in time. Jers' orders came without hesitation.</div><br/>

<div>"Notify the admiral our departure will be delayed; request cover from the remaining Epsilon fighter. Helm, full emergency power, set an interception course, execute now. Gunnery, prepare for burst fire as soon as we're within range of those bombers. Prioritize drawing them off over direct effect."</div><br/>

<div>Across the ship, Lieutenant Jers' crew set to work, changing course to support the battered cruiser. For two minutes and seventeen seconds, <span class="italic">Audacious</span> lived up to its name.</div><br/>

<div><div class="hr"></div></div><br/>

<div>Ten days later, aboard the <span class="italic">Haven Medical Station</span> in Delta Serpentis, Lieutenant Jers was cleared to receive visitors. It was her family, at first: her father, an outspoken critic of the Alliance and the military-industrial complex, was quick to tell her how proud he was; her mother brought recordings of her kid brother and advice, likely downloaded from the holonet on the trip over, on living with spinal injuries. It was a pleasant enough interaction, but they lived in very different worlds, and Jers didn't mind when they left.</div><br/>

<div>And then there was Admiral Halkins. He looked smaller in person, she thought. "Relax, Lieutenant," he said by way of greeting. "You did the right thing."</div><br/>

<div>Jers hadn't realized just how tense she'd been until she heard those words. She'd violated a direct order and endangered an admiral's life. It had seemed like the right call at the time, but her time aboard <span class="italic">Haven</span> had given her little to do but think about it. She sank back into the bed, feeling relief wash over her. Whatever else happened, she wasn't going to be court-martialled.</div><br/>

<div>"Thank you, sir," Jers said, and then, "What happened?"</div><br/>

<div>The admiral didn't answer that immediately. He dipped behind the curtain for a moment, and returned with one of the cheap plastic hospital chairs. He took a seat near her bed, and brought her up to speed - about how the <span class="italic">Audacious</span> had collided with a Shivan bomber, how its exploding ordnance racks had cut through the ship's badly damaged superstructure and sent shrapnel slicing through the bridge, and how the ship's engineers had initiated an emergency jump after Jers had blacked out. It was a miracle that the ship made it, he told her, and a testament to how she'd trained her crew - but Jers had already worked that out for herself, in general if not in every detail, and it wasn't what she wanted to hear about.</div><br/>

<div>"What about the <span class="italic">Balisong?</span>", Jers asked. "Did they make it? What about the escape pods?"</div><br/>

<div>"You gave them a fighting chance," Halkins said. It wasn't an answer, and yet it was.</div><br/>

