“Sir, one of my pilots had a… friend on Formidable,” Schneider said. “She probably won’t be the only one to have someone missing, perhaps dead. Do you want me to talk to her?”
James hesitated. As XO, it was his duty to see to it… but Schneider was definitely closer to his pilots. And besides, she almost certainly wasn't the only one to have a friend on the destroyed ships.
“Yes, please,” he said, finally. He’d have to check the records, but they rarely showed anything more than relatives. Someone might hear about their dead friend from the general ship-wide announcement. “And if you feel she needs further counselling, please inform me.”
Schneider nodded and left the briefing room. James watched him go, then reached for his terminal. There would have been to be a general announcement before they powered up the drives for the first time… after praying desperately for success. James knew far too well just how tricky it would be to replace the fusion cores if they failed — it would take months, at the very least.
And by then humanity could very well have lost the war.
Kurt had to admit that, after a great deal of grumbling, his pilots had managed to sort out the squadron bunking in a suitable manner. Their quarters had been cleaned, new bedding had been installed and there were even a small collection of reading devices, although the latter had barely been touched between endless exercises and napping. Once they’d set up a working simulator, he’d kept his pilots too busy to do anything else.
There were no barriers offering any form of privacy, even when male and female pilots were sharing the same territory. Body modesty was rare among naval crewmen — and besides, pilots were not supposed to show any untoward interest in one another. Kurt had known that relationships happened a long time before he met Rose — and he’d actually had second thoughts about allowing mixed quarters — but he trusted her to behave herself. But now…
He leaned forward and tapped her on the shoulder. Like most active-duty naval crewmen, she had long since mastered the art of snapping awake when called, which gave her an advantage over the reservists. They had to relearn the art. Kurt was ruefully aware that if an active-duty pilot had been assigned as CAG, there might well have been a mutiny in short order. Reservists wouldn't take kindly to being treated as active-duty pilots, most of whom were young enough to get by on only a few hours of sleep a day.
“Sir?” Rose asked, looking up at him. “What’s happened?”
“Grab your robe and come with me,” Kurt ordered. He glanced at the other bunks, where the remainder of the squadron were still sleeping. “Quietly.”
He felt his cheeks heat with embarrassment as she rolled off her bunk, revealing that she was wearing an undershirt and panties… and not much else. The swell of her breasts was instantly noticeable, while her long legs were perfect, strongly muscled and very pale. Irked, he looked away and paced out of the compartment. She joined him a moment later and followed him down to the room he'd turned into a makeshift office. He felt a moment of sympathy for her, all unaware of just how sharply her life had changed, then started to speak.
“Formidable has been destroyed,” he said, softly. It still seemed unreal to him, even though he’d seen the records. “As far as we know, she went up with all hands.”
Rose stared at him. For a long moment, it was clear, she didn't believe what she was hearing.
“I’m sorry,” he said. He wondered, briefly, if he’d made a mistake. “I thought you should know…”
“He can't be dead,” Rose said. “He…”
Kurt understood. She would find it hard to come to terms with the news. Rose wasn't listed as one of her boyfriend’s relatives; she wasn't, technically, entitled to a visit from officers bearing the bad tidings. She wouldn't have heard the truth until the entire navy was told about the disaster. And there wouldn't be any support for her… would there be any support for anyone? It had been a long time since the Royal Navy had lost so many crewmen in a single battle. Even the catastrophic life support failure on HMS Impervious, fifteen years ago, had only killed seventeen crewmen.
But the Battle of New Russia had killed nearly seven thousand officers and men. Two carriers, twenty-two support ships and over seven hundred starfighters. By any pre-war standard, the losses had been disastrous. And they were far from over.
“He shouldn't have died,” Rose said. Her entire body was shaking. “I… he can't be dead.”
Kurt reached out and drew her into a hug, feeling her shake against him as she broke down. She’d genuinely loved her boyfriend; she’d accepted the assignment to Ark Royal, at least in part, because she wasn't willing to give him up. But now… he was gone. Or, at best, an alien POW. Did the aliens take prisoners? Human history showed a wide range of possible treatment of prisoners, everything from reasonably nice camps to outright torture and enslavement. What would the aliens consider acceptable?
He tried to push the thought aside as she sobbed. Would Molly sob, he asked himself, if Ark Royal were to be destroyed? If Kurt himself were to die? Or would she force her feelings aside and carry on, for Penny and Percy if no one else? What sort of help would be extended towards a widowed woman when there would be thousands of others in the same boat?
“I’m sorry,” Rose said. There was a flat tone in her voice he didn't like at all. “I won’t be a problem for you and…”
“No, you won’t,” Kurt said, wishing he knew more about how to talk to someone who’d lost a lover in battle. “You’ll get your chance to exact revenge.”
Rose looked up, her face blotchy and weepy. “Are you sure?”
“We’re going to engage the enemy,” Kurt assured her. He knew it wouldn't be easy — and he wasn't sure if he should be telling her at all, at least until the Captain made a formal announcement — but she needed to know. “I think we’ll be leaving in a day or two.”
“Formidable is gone,” Rose said, bitterly. “What chance do we stand?”
“We will see,” Kurt said. There was no point in telling her, now, about the carrier’s armour - and how it might make a major difference in the next engagement. He held her for a long moment, then gently let her go. “I want you to take the next few hours off…”
“No,” Rose said. She shook her head firmly, then stood upright. If her face hadn't been stained with tears, it would have been convincing. “I can't show weakness.”
“Then I don’t want to see any problems from you,” Kurt said, changing his mind. If she felt it would be better to throw herself into her work, he would let her do it and hope to hell it was the right thing to do. “And we will be starting very early this morning.”
He pushed her gently towards the chair, then smiled. “There's a washroom through there,” he said, indicating the hatch at the rear of the room. “Wash yourself, then stay here for a couple of hours if you need to. I won’t be using the room.”
“Thank you,” Rose said.
She didn't look any better, Kurt decided. Perhaps he should call the doctor and ask her to take a look at Rose. But he knew she’d hate it. Doctors, particularly psychologists, were despised by pilots. And how could the pilots be blamed when psychologists tended to have no understanding of their lives, but banned them from flying whenever they thought there was cause for concern. But now there was cause for concern.
Loyalty warred with prudence. Loyalty won.
“I shall speak to you again before we go flying,” he said, finally. If she still seemed off, he would make her see the doctor, no matter what happened. “Until then, take care of yourself.”