We had reached a point where we were spending as much time burning swarms of the Enemy as we were burning nests when the long-awaited call was beamed into my mind. When we crossed into another flight team’s zone we turned on the trespass beacons in our craft to alert the assigned team of our presence, and we were finally getting a response.
“I have a fix on your beacons,” came the thought. “While I appreciate the assistance in covering this zone, I can now complete assignment without additional support. You may return to rendezvous point.”
I noted her use of the word “I” instead of “we.”
“What is your condition?” I queried.
“Five flyers lost. My own canopy is breached. It is therefore impossible for me to meet pickup ship. However, I can complete the mission. Feel free to return to rendezvous point.”
What occurred to me was the difficulty our six flyers had had sweeping this zone, giving rise to the question of the lone flyer’s ability to finish the job. I rejected the thought. She was a Tzen. If she said she could complete the mission, she could complete it.
“Return to rendezvous!” I beamed to my team and slammed my flyer into a steep climb out of the trees.
I experienced a moment of worry about Kor, but it appeared to be without basis. As we broke out into the predawn light, she was in her appointed position in the formation.
I did not ponder the nobility of the Tzen who sent us on, staying to fight alone. Among the Tzen, this was not exceptionally heroic. Rather, it was our expected performance of duty.