Chapter 7: Planetfall

“Did we make it?” Feliciana asked in her worried state.

“Almost through the atmosphere!” Chief Buziba declared. “Launching in one minute. All aircraft! Use your radars. Carry out with whatever objectives you can. Provide cover for the remaining marine ships as they make planetfall!”

“Roger,” Chao replied.

“Aye,” Feliciana stated. Other pilots said the same thing.

“Heh heh,” Dean remarked in his stoned state.

The scene was tense as the pilots could feel the great descent of the UHN Gladiator. Alarms were going off everywhere. The outside cameras could only see the massive trail of fire that came off as the vessel was traveling through the atmosphere. The assault carrier had already received damage. Parts of the top sections of the armor showed fires and a venting atmosphere. Emergency bulkheads were in place. At the same time, the battle in space had put its toll on the assault carrier. The threat of breaking up in the air was a genuine possibility.

The Gladiator wasn’t alone. The UHN Legion, the smaller Rio De Janeiro, and a single shuttle had made it through the blockade. They all had taken some form of damage here and there. As the vessels continued to fall, the intense friction began to dissipate. It was starting to be replaced with that of an enormous moving cloud of flying dirt and sand. The silicates began to erode into the bottom portion of the hull, but only lightly. As they began to get immersed into it, the area was getting darker and darker. Even with the overhead sunlight, the overall dessert was less illuminated. The countdown continued.

Dean was completely stoned. He saw that the hangar bay was a forest with bright lights that traveled around. At the same time, there was some sort of flying winged tiny people that were moving in front of his cockpit.

“Wow...,” Stoned replied in his calm stupor. “Like ... those fairies better get out of the way before we launch, man.” His voice continued to carry through in the comms while the terrified pilots overheard it.

“Umm...,” one of the pilots replied. “What are you talking about?”

“Prepare to launch in thirty seconds,” Buziba said. There was a hint that he would say something else concerning what Dean had just said, but the current mission was in progress.

Dean’s world was transforming in front of his eyes. He thought he saw the hangar bay as it normally was for a brief moment. It was slightly darker but still had lights that functioned. Parts of the room had taken a small piece of a railgun strike that penetrated and killed one of the aircraft and fellow pilots.

The stoned individual tried to look at it with deep intensity, but the hallucinogenic effects of the tainted Seashunkelp were doing a lot to Dean’s perspective. Before he knew it, everything turned back into some green forest. It caused him to smile as he enjoyed the scenery much better. Even the dancing fairies had returned. Finally, a floating dancing white rabbit had appeared on the canopy cockpit of his F-170. It was almost anthropomorphic. It stood on the nose of the Gatling gun and waved its paw to Dean.

“Hey...,” Dean remarked. “Magical white bunny ... like ... how is everything?”

“Doper Dean!” the rabbit actually spoke to him. It was that of a cute male voice.”Looks like you’ve been taking a lot of the pixie fairy dust. You sound like you want to play today.”

“Heh, heh,” he replied with a chuckle. “Actually ... like ... it wasn’t fairy dust, bunny bro. It was some of the magical weed my friend gave me.”

For a brief second, there was nothing but mass confusion by the pilots. He thought he heard the chief trying to get ahold of him, but it instead became that of a countdown. It started from ten and was going down to one.

“Are you ready to come play with us, Dean?” the dancing rabbit said as it tapped its hindquarters to the Gatling gun.

“Ah ... oh yeah,” he said with a big smile on his face. “Like ... totally, bunny bro.”

“Well, come and try to catch me first!”

The scene became that of a rush. Dean’s head and helmet looked up as he felt like he was being pressed to the back of his seat. Then, a bright light appeared in front of his aircraft. His smile was bigger than ever before as he was tempted to let go of the flight control stick. His F-170 was shot out into the thicket of sand and dust along with the other aircraft. For Dean, a part of his brain had at least recognized that his plane was shot out of the launch tube of the descending assault carrier. This was followed by twelve other F-170s and both of the B-110s. The F-170’s wings unfolded open to form a jagged trapezoid shape. The B-110s that flew out had their wings open up. Essentially, this caused the bomber gunships to appear as nothing but a flying crescent moon. Its two twin Gatling turrets lined its bow and ventral portside.

“Launch completed!” Buziba stated. “Dean, are you there!?”

There was so much sand. Alarms were already going off in the cockpit of Dean’s fighter. The winds were intense, and everyone only had their instruments to rely upon. It was a terrifying process and one that only seemed to mean certain death. Even in space, there was the idea that there was some form of visual recognition. Not here, however. Cipra’s massive sandstorm was a blessing and curse in disguise.

“God ... Can’t see!” yelled Feliciana.

“Use your instruments!” Chao replied. “We knew we were going to be in this shit. Dean respond to us!”

Everything that was happening wasn’t properly registering in Dean’s mind and vision. He wasn’t inside a sandstorm. He ... was in wonderland. Pollen of orange, purple, green, and yellow was everywhere. The desert lands of Cipra were nothing more than a forest of magic and beauty. The dancing fairies were there. The white rabbit continued to stand on the edge of the nose gun of his fighter. Despite the ravaging winds and sands, this rabbit stood firmly and proudly like nothing was happening. One of these blue and green human-looking fairies even flew up to greet Dean. Her human features had a series of blue leaves that grew on her shoulders and waist. She had a long droopy green hat that she wore on her forehead as her butterfly wings propelled her to impressive speeds. She was fully naked and had long pointed ears. A piece of strange music began to fill the cockpit. It was that of some sort of old electric piano that began to play a very soft and happy beat. The rhythm was one that children may hear and dance to if they so desired.

“Dean!” the female voice said. “You came! You came to see us!”

“Heh, heh ... yeah, fairy lady. I wouldn’t like ... miss this for the world.”

“Well then,” the fairy’s wings worked overtime as she held her hands toward him. “Become the freethinker!”

“Yes,” the white rabbit said. “What do you want to do, Dean?”

“I like ... want to fly with you guys,” Dean said. “Both of you rock!”

“Then come and fly by the trail that I leave,” the fairy commented. She picked up speed and made a hard turn.

“Time to get into the grove, man. Raise the music!”

He grabbed the flight joystick of his aircraft and made a hard turn to follow the moving fairy. The trail of light was one that he could easily follow.

“What the fuck?” Chao said. “Dean ... I think he’s lost it.”

“Shit,” the chief called out. “All aircraft. Maintain wide v formation. I’m writing off Dean. Petty Officer Dean! If you’re hearing this, return to our flight formation and protect the carrier! For fuck’s sake!”

Dean heard none of it as he followed the magical fairy. His plane was responding well despite the harsh winds. The radar of his console showed that the other aircraft was starting to make a wide ninety-degree turn. They were flying in parallel with the descending UHN Gladiator.

“My long-range sensors are barely working,” Pilot Diedrich stated. “It’s putting a lot of pressure on my end.”

“It’s expected,” Buziba replied. “It’s making it hard for us to see. It’s making it hard for the enemy to see us.”

“I think we are over 250 kilometers from reaching the Southern Tazhong Canyon,” Feliciana stated.

“The Gladiator and the remaining carriers are going to touch down in about four minutes,” the chief stated. “Stay alert.”

“Any sign of the Legion’s flight wing?”

“Nothing yet ... wait ... I think I see them on radar. Correct, it’s air squadron Foxtrot.”

On the other hand, Dean had completely broken off from the flight wing. The flying pixie was steady as it flew lower and lower. The glittering dust that she left behind was beautiful to his doped vision. His destination was taking it slightly away from the westward route of the descending assault ships. The dust and sands that were in the air continued to give off faint alarms that echoed in the cockpit.

“Watch out,” the rabbit happily told him. “Want to make sure that you can stay with us, Dean.”

“Of course, bunny bro,” Dean replied. “Whatever you say.”

It tapped its hind leg to the aircraft. “Make sure to press the two white buttons.”

“Heh, heh ... that’s the arm switch for my aircraft’s weapons. Are you sure that you want me to mess with that?”

“We only care for your safety, Dean!” the fairy said as she spun and turned her head to look at him. “We want you to play with us forever.”

Dean laughed as he nodded. “Sounds groovy, man.” He tapped the two buttons on his console. For a split second, he could see the reality of the situation. Dust ... sand ... the intense wind. Then, it went back to the forest wonder that was on the bottom. He tried to tap the side of his helmet, but it did nothing to break him out of the hallucination.

“Level up, Dean,” the fairy told him. “This is a good place for us.”

The rabbit twirled on the cockpit as he danced around in place. Dean was nodding his head in agreement. Dean pulled lightly on his flight control stick as he remained at a reasonable altitude. By now, the constant streams of forests had turned into a swirl of rainbow colors. It caused him to look at this myriad of colors with glee. It was slowly turning into a tunnel vision of a spinning kaleidoscope.

“Just ... gnarly,” Dean said. He would nod to the new beat of the piano as it started to go into that of rock and roll.

“Good, Dean,” the rabbit said as he tapped his paws together in applause. “Now, hold here.”

“Yes, Dean,” the fairy added. “Just keep following my tail and enjoy the ride.”

“This is soooo psychedelic, man. Like ... thank you, fairy lady and bunny bro.”

“Please call me, Tu’er,” the rabbit said.

“You got it, bunny bro,” Dean held a thumbs up to him.

“You didn’t introduce yourself by your full name,” the fairy commented to the rabbit. “Alice might not be so happy to hear of such news. But for you, Dean, you can simply call me Tamara.”

“I get you, fairy lady.”

The other pilots could still hear the words being spoken by Dean and simply ignored him. He must have been crazy or out of his mind. Chao was quick to point out the obvious.

“Goddamn, I know he was fucking stoned out of his mind,” she said. “He’s a risk to us all.”

“If he crashes, then it’s on him,” the chief said. “I don’t want to hear another word on it unless he does anything to jeopardize our lives. I’ll file a report on all this after we finish up this mission. Is that clear?”

“Understood,” many of the pilots replied back.

“Flight leader Bravo, this is flight leader from squadron Foxtrot,” a dainty male voice said. “I spotted a fighter that is slowly heading away from your route.”

“It’s one of ours, but I believe he may be under the influence,” Buziba replied. “Only engage him if he proves to be a risk against us.”

“Shit understood.”

“Chief,” Feliciana commented. “I’m picking up multiple signatures heading our way!”

“Correct,” Chao jumped in. “At least thirty-five aircraft that are heading towards us. Not UHN ... Aksren clan ... Fhil’pk Interceptors. They are heading into our flight zone.”

“Must be a scouting group that is investigating our entry point,” the chief concluded. “We can’t let them reach the carriers. Advise, UHN Gladiator.”

“Roger, we are tracking it as well,” another male voice from the carrier replied. “It’s imperative that you destroy them before they reach us. Engage and destroy them before they give our position to the planetary defenses. The sandstorm is making their targeting sensors useless.”

“And the interceptors will simply point us out,” Buziba stated. “All UHN aircraft engage and destroy incoming enemy fighters.”

“Copy that Bravo Leader,” many of the pilots responded.

“Flight leader Bravo,” the same light male voice responded. “Flight group Foxtrot will comply. Engage and destroy.”

The sandstorm continued to plague everyone’s sight. It was nothing but a haze of well-lit moving dust that blasted the canopy continuously. The winds would occasionally shift and pull on some of the UHN. It began to take some toll on the F-170s.

“Chief, I got a red light on the exhaust manifold on number 2 engine,” Chao stated.

“It’s the dust,” the chief replied. “We have no choice but to continue. Chao continue forth. We can’t let the Aksren stop us.”

“Understood, Chief.”

“How close are the Aksren fighters?”

“They’re coming in fast,” Feliciana explained. “Radar shows that they’ll be in missile range in less than a minute. Don’t know if they spotted us yet.”

“Understood,” the chief stated.

“Wait, they’re altering course and spreading out. They’re turning northwest.”

“They might be picking up the energy signatures of the assault carriers and trying to find it. UHN Gladiator, Legion, and Rio De Janeiro be advised that we can’t guarantee your safety. Aksren interceptors may be tracking your engine signatures. Recommend spreading yourselves outward to avoid possible incoming weapons fire.”

“Understood, flight group Bravo,” the officer from the Gladiator replied. “We need another two minutes before we can land and get our troops on the ground. Be advised that we have taken heavy damage to our port vectoring thruster. We can’t make any turns as we come for a land.”

It was difficult to track any form of visual activity in the fierce storm. All that could be seen was the moving sand. If an aircraft could be seen, it would only be brief. Only the hints of lights and pushing flames from thrusters gave any semblance that there was some form of artificial activity on a mostly barren world. Because the situation was tense as it was, Dean was still maintaining his unusual course. His field of vision of changing colors continued. His “two friends” remained with him. Tamara continued to fly ahead, tossing sparkling pixie dust here and there that would splash against the cockpit.

“So gnarly, fairy lady,” Dean said.

“It’s time to play our great game, Dean!” the flying pixie said. “Are you ready?”

“I got you ... I got you,” the pilot happily answered.

“Then follow me!”

With that, the fairy made a significant ninety-degree turn to the east. Dean yanked on his flight joystick as the F-170 made a jolting turn. On his radar was that of the assault carriers that were within less than two minutes from touchdown. For a moment, he shook his head as he saw reality. The sandstorm was everywhere. He faintly saw the lights of the vessels. He continued to shake his head as he then saw Tamara. The fairy was still flying ahead of him ... almost as if she was guiding him somewhere. Dean’s vision and hallucination returned in full force. His giddiness was more than evident.

“Aww ... this stuff is the best!” Dean replied with sheer excitement. “I love this! Best hit ever.”

“And we aren’t done yet,” the rabbit pointed. “Your friends are going to need your help. The opposing team is going to tag out your buddies.”

“Oh no ... like ... that’s not good, man.”

“Way...,” the rabbit nodded his head. “It’ll be a total bummer if they lose.”

“But you can help them, Dean!” Tamara added. “You’re the best because ... you’re Doper Dean!”

“Yeah!” Dean raised one hand in cheer. “Doper Dean to the rescue! Far out.”

The UHN aircraft began to fire a volley of air-to-air missiles. It momentarily appeared on Dean’s radar. Then, a lock-on alarm started to echo in his cockpit. A missile launch alarm soon followed this. The Aksren had apparently locked onto his aircraft.

“Ah oh!” Tu’er said. “Those bullies are trying to tag you out! We can’t have that now, can we?” The fairy continued to fly as she held her arms together. The white rabbit held his finger and waved it in the fast-moving sandy air.

“Nah ... no way, man. Not letting the fuzz tell us that we do anything wrong. We came here to have fun!” Dean answered.

“Ready?” Tamara said.

“Hit the blue button on your left,” Tu’er told him.

“You got it, bunny bro!” Dean tapped the button, causing a countermeasure to launch from the rear of his aircraft.

“Come fly with me, Dean!” Tamara said as she did a large somersault in the air. Dean followed suit as he lifted hard on his flight control stick. He made a large overhead loop. The moment that he did, an enemy missile came crashing through to strike the countermeasure decoy. He was maintaining course as he could see a series of explosions.

But then ... it transformed to the field of green. The explosions turned into blue pixie dust. It wasn’t aircraft shooting at each other to the stoned pilot. He was looking at the greatest realm of dodgeball ever known. Then again, it was an odd form of dodgeball. Everyone was flying and driving floating go carts. Each person had a rubber ball or flower in their hand. He recognized these as the pilots that he was flying with. The opposing team, however, was that of the red alien women. The oviraptors were waving their hands and flipping off the UHN pilots. Tu’er was waving his hand back at them.

“Ah ... I would have never allowed such things during my days,” the rabbit said.

“We must help out your friends, Dean. Follow me!” the fairy stated. She held out her hands and arms as if they were wings and moved in an upward eastern direction. Here, a set of two Aksren go-carts were heading and throwing rubber balls at the UHN team. One of the UHN go-carts spun out of control and went flying down to the ground.

“Now, Dean!” Tamara stated. “Press the button ... the red button on your stick!”

“Oh, you got it, fairy lady,” Dean replied. He firmly pressed the trigger of his aircraft. His hand was that of a dodgeball. Then, he had two of them. He smiled as he tossed both of them towards the enemy go-carts. It went wide, and then he saw both of the vehicles explode in a wave of flowery pedals.

“Do you believe in magic?” the rabbit asked.

“I do! I do!” Dean answered.

In reality, two of the Aksren aircraft were gunned down by the UHN pilot as he made a sharp left turn in the air. Chao was awestruck as she was almost shot down by the hostile Itrean planes.

“Son of a bitch, saved me,” Chao replied in quick surprise. “Two-for-oned them. How did he perform such an incredible maneuver?”

“It’s magic, man!” Dean said. “I have the power!”

“Help me!” Feliciana called out. “I have three aircraft trying to...”

A missile and a wave of machine-gun fire struck Feliciana’s F-170. It exploded into a shower of debris. The flaming wreckage went down, along with other UHN aircraft.

“No!” Chao said. She turned her targeting sensors on the nearest Aksren aircraft. The sandstorm made things difficult to track, but it was enough that she saw the red outline of a delta-winged plane. Its front red pincers held the guns in the center. She tried to lock onto the nearest one before launching an air-to-air missile. The nimble piloted fighter easily evaded it before it struck.

“Stay in this, team!” The chief yelled out. “We can win this!”

Another explosion riddled the air as one of the B-110s exploded and fractured in half. Suddenly, a pair of two powerful rounds came skimming through the air from the east. It was moving at such fast speeds that it left a wake of moving disturbed floating dust. The hypervelocity rounds had a single destination. One narrowly struck the UHN Gladiator as it shaved the top starboard section of the hangar facility, ripping a portion of the hull. The other hypervelocity round struck the starboard aft section. Unlike the last shell, this one caused severe damage. A fire raged, and the vectoring thrusters were barely operational. Fires were spewing out the damaged hull. The assault carrier was veering towards the ground at a phenomenal rate.

“We’ve taken a hit from two railgun rounds!” yelled out the officer from the Gladiator. “Lost starboard vectoring thrusters. All stations, brace for a hard landing!”

“That came from the Tazhong Canyon...,” Buziba stated. “The Aksren have railguns stationed there. All teams maintain the attack. We need to keep covering the assault carriers.”

More explosions ripped into the sky. UHN fighter craft and Aksren interceptors were fully engaged with the other. It was almost a fair fight, but one that was still on the side of the Aksren defenses. For every two F-170s, there were three Itrean fighters to fight back. The smaller red planes were incredibly nimble and fast. The Falcons, on the other hand, were more cumbersome. However, the severe amount of dirt and dust in the air had made it an equal battleground. Both sides seemed to have a hard time operating in it, and visual ranges were limited much of the time.

“Chief, you have a fighter on your tail!” Chao yelled.

Buziba rolled his aircraft hard to the right. Other UHN aircraft were busy shooting down or evading the Itrean opposition. He banked hard to the left in hopes of getting rid of the pursuing interceptor. Instead, alarms were flashing as the chief could see a missile lock was coming in. The enemy was about to shoot.

Dean’s haze of hallucination maintained the perspective of the great game in the air ... or was it on the ground? He didn’t care. It was absolutely entertaining. The fairy that he was chasing continued to guide him. It led him to make a massive horizontal loop that took it behind the pursuing enemy interceptor that was chasing the chief’s fighter.

“Get ready, Dean!” Tamara told him.

“Yeah, man,” Dean replied. His finger was on the trigger, ready to press it as a missile lock was made. It was unknown if the Aksren pilot had picked up Dean’s approach.

“Throw the ball, Dean!” the pixie playfully ordered.

With a simple toggle, the lower missile bay of his F-170 opened up and deployed a small missile. The guidance lock took it off course slightly before it slammed into the rear of the enemy interceptor. To him, it exploded in a plethora of rose petals.

“Whoa, man,” Dean replied. The white rabbit then took his hands and gestured for him to take to the left.

“Hard left, Dean. You’re doing great,” Tamara told him.

“Heh, heh...”

Buziba was safe as the screen was showing that the situation was growing more dire. The Aksren interceptors were getting shot down, but they had numbers on their side. Another B-110 exploded in the air. The bomber gunships were fat targets and not meant to fight other enemy aircraft. The entire campaign had been nothing but a disaster for the marine ships. So few made it, and it only seemed to get worse. Yet, at the same time, a stoned pilot was scoring kills after kills. The Oshunian turned his head to the left to see that Dean had not only saved him but flew off and engaged three other interceptors.

“I’ll be damned,” the chief commented.

“I need help,” yelled out a random pilot. It was followed by an explosion as the F-170 was blown to pieces in the air.

Dean had three sets of missile locks that were thrown onto him. He chuckled mildly as the fairy and rabbit told him where to go next. Suddenly, alarms echoed of numerous missile launches. Using their sheer numbers, the Aksren were trying to gang up on him.

“Do what I’m doing, Dean!” Tamara exclaimed. She did a barrel roll in the air and twirled to the right.

“Press that button,” Tu’er commented.

With a tug of the joystick and a release of the button, the F-170 did a rightward barrel roll. A countermeasure decoy fluttered in the wind as it was ejected. Somehow, the timing was done just right. Two of the missiles homed in on the decoy. Another one tried to home in on Dean, but its guidance lock was disturbed. As a result, it went off course slightly as it randomly struck an Aksren interceptor in midair.

“Pull to the left,” Tu’er said as he pointed his finger to the west.

“We almost got them! Isn’t this fun?” the fairy exclaimed as she clapped her hands in the air.

“Oh man ... like ... this game of dodgeball is amazing,” Dean replied. “I love the music in the background.”

His fighter was pointed directly at the rear of an Itrean interceptor. The female pilot waved a middle finger at him as the go-kart was about to veer to the right.

“Throw the ball, Dean,” the fairy said. With that, Dean’s Gatling gun spun and fired a spread of 30mm rounds right into it. A series of small fires broke out. For Dean, blue pixie dust rained out and flew into the wind.

“Pew pew!” the fairy gestured with her mouth and two fingers. She then resumed and did a slow barrel roll. Dean reacted in the same way. For a brief second, the massive sandstorm perforated his vision before the kaleidoscope of colors resumed.

“Oh-oh,” Tu’er reacted. “Looks like your teammates are getting tagged out.”

“Ah no, man,” Dean stated. More interceptors were heading his way...

The battle in space had turned into a regroup for the T’rintar and UHN forces. Reinforcing vessels had arrived on both sides. The entire scene in Cipra’s orbit had turned into an all-out brawl of warships. T’rintar battleships and Aksren warships would fire salvos of missiles onto one another. Autogun and tracer fire danced through everywhere. Occasionally, there would be an enormous flash of light as a vessel took a direct hit from a nuclear explosion. Other vessels would get disabled or further damaged by the other torpedoes and railgun rounds that flew into the other.

Inside the Atra, Ramírez was feeling the pinch of the overall battle. He had to keep an eye on everything. At the same time, he had to help relay messages back and forth between the fleet adjunct and admiral Rex. It was exhausting work and only the beginning. There had to be thousands of warships on both the T’rintar and Aksren fleets.

The thoughts of the recent events of the marine task force remained heavy on his mind. When he looked past the main Aksren fleet from the camera view, he could see the far distant Xetregren battleships. Most were sitting in orbit. Others were attuned to the planet. At the same time, floating debris, bodies, and equipment from the ravaged UHN marine fleet sat floating in space. Some of it was crashing into Cipra’s atmosphere to incinerate further. At the same time, he was speaking to the admiral. The face of the fleet CO

“It’s over...,” Ramírez told Rex. “It’s time for us to look into a general retreat.”

“And give up on the marines now?” Rex replied defiantly.

“Sir, the assault carriers were wiped out. The Cipran ground invasion can’t even commence!”

Rex shook his head. “Negative. We picked up three vessels that still made it to the planet. The marines can still try to take on the Aksren ground forces.”

Ramírez was heavily skeptical. “I don’t think they made it. The Aksren completely anticipated our arrival. They’re throwing everything they have at us. Your forces number less than ten while the Aksren have 1,200. More of their reinforcements are coming in. The T’rintar clan only have so many more ships that they can throw against them.”

“We can still bloody win this, good chap,” Rex commented. “Their blockade might have inflicted heavy casualties. They might have given us a good slap on the bum, but they can’t stop us. We must press the offensive. The Aksren will give up. They will weaken. We’ll regain communication with the remaining forces.”

“Sir, I must insist. We might be holding a slight advantage with 1400 warships, but more of their ships are coming through. We’re picking up additional 300 wormhole signatures. We still haven’t even encountered their main flagship. Even if the marines somehow made it, it isn’t enough. Intel suggested that at least six assault carriers, minimum, was needed to even have a chance against whatever they were going to face. Not three ... assuming they aren’t getting destroyed in the progress as we speak.”

“Ramírez,” Tara’Talar explained to him. “There were three of the marine ships that managed to make it to Cipra’s atmosphere. You didn’t fully observe it.”

“We can’t achieve contact with them!” he argued back. “How do we know if they are alive or dead? We don’t because the sandstorm is making communications almost useless. Even if they tried to, the Aksren will simply zero in on the communications message and bomb them out of existence. Every minute longer that we stay here only encourages the Aksren to target the Ark Royal and the other UHN battleships. You might have the room to lose a few hundred ships, but the UHN can’t afford it. Sir, I recommend that we retreat ... mitigate our losses.”