Gev Braxal had searched just about everywhere for her friend. Gev hadn't seen Samantha since the flight debriefing ten hours earlier. The damaged fighters had landed without incident, except perhaps that Chief Technician Collins had been quite verbally upset by the damage to Gev's fighter. He tended to take those things a bit too personally. Collins acted as though Gev had damaged her fighter just to annoy him. When it appeared that Collins was going to chew her out, Gev gave him her best, "Say one wrong word" look. Collin's mouth snapped shut and he sullenly went about damage diagnostic procedures.

There were certain advantages to having a reputation for an uncontrollable temper, Gev thought happily. The joy drained out of her when she thought about the flight debriefing.

Phoenix Squadron was a close knit group, and the loss of two of its members affected every one of them deeply. Everyone hoped that Gorlma would return safe, but no one held out much hope for him or the colonists on Volturnus. Che'kek's loss affected them the most though. He had been a well liked member of the squadron, and had been with them for years instead of weeks. Although his body still floated in the husk of his ruined fighter several Astronomical Units back, his formal Burial at Sea memorial service was scheduled for eighteen hundred hours today. Although he was officially assigned to the Vengeance, and the responsibility would normally fall upon the Captain, Gev had requested that she be the one to lead the service.

Given the long period Phoenix Squadron had spent at Fortress Pale while the Vengeance underwent its refit, Gev didn't feel right handing the service over to a Captain that had barely known Che'kek for nine days. Gev had just cleared that matter with Captain Morgan an hour earlier. Since that time, she had looked for her executive officer and friend. Truth be told, Gev was more than a little worried about Samantha.

She had been professional and composed during the debriefing, but Gev knew Samantha too long to miss the signs that something more than Che'kek's death was bothering her. After the debriefing, Gev thought Samantha had left a little too quickly and was not her normal outgoing self. In all their years of friendship, Gev had never known Samantha to prefer solitude to social interactions. Gev expected to see Samantha in the mess hall this morning, as had been their habit since Samantha became Executive Officer for the squadron. Breakfast gave them time to plan the day's schedule and go over potential problems with the squadron. Gev was certain she'd find Samantha soon. There were only so many places one could go on a ship, even one the size of the Vengeance.

Gev rounded the corner and came upon the new observation lounge. The room was a recent addition to the Vengeance, and Gev had to admit it was impressive. Built just aft of the Flightdecks where the hull narrowed, the lounge consisted of a two meter by ten meter room with a long outward sloping Plastiglass panel. The panel made up an entire wall and almost half of the floor. Positioned where it was , crew members could look straight down at the ship's atomic drives or enjoy the rest of the ninety degree plus panorama to the sides. The lounge was only dimly lit so as not to detract from the starfield. Gev leaned through the door and peered into the room. There was a single rail just before the window, and Gev saw Samantha slumped against it, looking down toward Volturnus.

That planet was now just a speck of light among a thousand others. Samantha appeared lost in thought, so Gev stepped quietly through the pressure seal and waited a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Without glancing up, Samantha noticed her and Gev heard her forlorn voice state, "Che'kek is back there, and I got him killed."

So, that's what's bothering her, Gev mused.

This had been Samantha's first combat action while she was in a command position. Losing a friend was never easy. Losing a friend you were responsible for was harder still. Gev walked up to Samantha and joined her by the rail. She reached out and placed her hand comfortingly on her friend's shoulder.

"Samantha, you can't blame yourself for what happened to Che'kek."

Samantha tore her gaze from the viewport and turned to Gev.

"Why not? After all. It's my fault. If I had ordered him to break off his attack run against the Pestilence earlier, he'd still be alive today. I knew that attack run was going wrong, but I hesitated. That hesitation is what got him killed."

Gev shook her head, "No Samantha. Che'kek knew the risks on that run as well as you did. He made the choice to continue toward the target while adjusting his radar. He did that because he knew it was important to hit the Pestilence as soon as possible."

Samantha looked back down toward Volturnus, and paused before replying, "It was my decision to make, and my error, not his."

There was a finality in her statement that made Gev wonder if there was any hope of changing her friend's mind about blaming herself. Gev had never backed away from a tough fight before, and she wasn't going to start now.

Gev paused for a moment, choosing her words carefully. She looked down at Volturnus, then back at her human friend.

"Samantha, why did you go in with no assault rockets against the Doomfist?"

Samantha glanced up, surprised at the apparent change of subject.

"You already know why Gev. If I drew their fire, then Watson had a better chance of getting a hit. It was a logical decision. Are you saying it was wrong?"

Gev shook her head, "I never said that, but I was wondering how you made that choice."

Samantha brushed a hair out of her eye and tucked it behind her ear. "Gev, that destroyer had to go down. Everyone was counting on us. If we hadn't done everything we could to stop it, then it would have caught up with the Challenger and possibly damaged it so much that the rest of the Sathar fleet could catch up."

Gev nodded, and said, "Don't you think that Che'kek felt the same way you did?"

She watched Samantha's reaction to see if her friend really understood what she was saying, then continued. "I know you believe you could have made a difference if you'd ordered him to break off his attack sooner. The fact is, I've known Che'kek longer than you, and I know that he felt just as strongly about helping the fleet escape, even if that meant escaping without him. Had you ordered him to break off the attack immediately instead of weighing the odds, you would have been wrong."

Samantha looked quizzically at Gev, "You're saying I would have been wrong to try to save a man in my command?"

Gev shook her head, "Not at all, but what we do out there is dangerous. When you fly fighters, you live with the knowledge that a solid hit from any weapon a capital ship carries can reduce your ship to scrap metal in a split second. Each time we leave the Vengeance, there's a good chance many of us will not return. I stress flying defensively, and using your head to gain every tactical advantage, but in the end, sometimes it comes down to luck. The decisions we make can influence those odds, but it's up to the person in the cockpit to make it back in one piece."

Gev paused and reflected for a moment. "You're not alone second guessing yourself Samantha. Every good commander evaluates her actions after a battle. Our people count on us to watch out for their welfare, but they also count on us to let them do their jobs. Our job is to kill the enemy and reduce his ability to wage war against us. Every choice we make should take into account the risk our forces take and balance that against the potential damage we do to the enemy. We have an obligation to use our people as effectively as possible. If the potential payoff is high enough, we even have the obligation to order them into situations that will most likely get them killed. That's the hardest thing to learn about command. It sounds tough when you hear that in a classroom at the Academy, but in reality, it's far worse than you ever imagined."

"So how do you learn to deal with the guilt?", Samantha asked. "I can't get the picture of his mate and children waiting for him on Cassadine out of my mind. They still don't know that he wont be coming back. That all they have left of their father or spouse are the memories. They don't even know of the sacrifice he made for them, and for us."

Gev reflected on her words for a long time, staring out at the field of stars. Just when Samantha was wondering what she was thinking, Gev rejoined, "I guess that's why commanders have a long standing history of writing letters to the families of the men in their command that fell before the enemy. I'm still working on just how to tell his family how courageous and noble he was. I don't know if I have the words. Che'kek was one of a kind. His loss is the Galaxy's loss. I've always heard that it was comforting for the families to know that the men and women who have fallen in battle were loved by their comrades and admired by their commanders. In my time of service with Spacefleet, I've had to write eight letters, and do you want to know what the funny thing is? I remember the wording of every damn one. I'd love for this letter to be the last I'll have to write to loved ones of my men, but I'm too much of a realist to believe it."

Gev searched her eyes for some sign that Samantha had understood what Gev had wanted to tell her. Her mood didn't appear much improved, and there was a familiar weariness in her face now. It was a look Gev saw in the mirror just this morning.

Gev patted Samantha's arm. "Samantha, let yourself feel the loss and the guilt and the pain. Experience it fully, and then move on. This war is far from over, and as much as we miss Che'kek, the other men in our command need you here and now. You're a good leader Lieutenant Rand, and they need you. I need you too."

Samantha nodded once, and looked out the viewport once more. Gev could see the resolve in her eyes. Samantha would be there and be ready when the next fight came, Gev was sure of that.

What she needed now was time. As much as Gev wanted to help, she knew she had done all she could at this point. Gev slowly turned from her friend and walked out. The weight of command must ultimately be borne alone.

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