The Bug Wars by Robert Asprin

The High Command had arrived at a solution to this problem: They calculated the number of anticipated casualties and then stuck to it. They might suffer more casualties than planned, but never less. They planned for returning a specific number of troops to the colony ship, and when that number was on board the transport, they simply shut the doors. Anyone still outside was then considered a casualty.

Apparently this is what had happened to us.

As this was our first confrontation with the Insects, the High Command had had no data on which to base their casualty estimates, so they had estimated high. This ensured the mission would be completed. This also meant we were shut out.

This did not mean simply diverting to another transport. If there had been extra space available in another ship, we would have been directed to it. We hadn’t. There was no more space. As far as the High Command was concerned, we were now officially dead.

I found my position curious, the live commander of a live “dead” flight team. What does one do after one is dead? I decided the crisis was of a magnitude to warrant getting the thoughts of the team.

“Confer!” I beamed to the formation at large. I expected a few moments’ silence while they collected their thoughts, but Kors answer was almost immediate.

“If we’re dead, the obvious course is to take additional legions of the Enemy to the Black Swamps with us. We may have gotten all the eggs and queens on the formal raid, but there are still a large number of workers we can destroy before the power sources burn out.