"Sharper than a Two-Edged sword"

Posted on Tue Jul 13th, 2021 @ 11:12am by Lieutenant Commander Phyllis D'lar 'Sorceress' & Lieutenant Commander Marcus Decius 'Gladius'

1,657 words; about a 8 minute read

Mission: Operation Romulus Return
Location: Flight Deck, Deputy CAG's office
Timeline: Present

The proximity alert woke him. He was almost there. Lieutenant Marcus Decius dropped his Valkyrie out of warp a good 200,000 klicks away from the Tokyo, reducing speed to .1c so he could get a good look at his new home.

He keyed his communicator, changing to the Tokyo's traffic control subspace frequency. "Tokyo Traffic Control, this is Valkyrie flight Kilo-One-Lima-Lima requesting permission for final approach."

"Flight Kilo-One-Lima-Lima, this is Tokyo Traffic Control. Pilot, please identify yourself." The female voice on the communicator sounded bored, as if this were routine.

Marcus sighed. "Lieutenant Marcus Decius, call sign 'Gladius'. My flight plan is on file, and I was told I was expected."

Only a slight pause intervened, presumably while they pulled his flight plan. "Flight Kilo-One-Lima-Lima, You are cleared for final approach, Starboard Bay, Vector Three-Five. Welcome to the Tokyo, Lieutenant."

"Roger that, Traffic Control, Starboard Bay, Vector Three-Five."

He punched in the approach vector and circled around the ship, getting a good look at her. She was much bigger than his last carrier, an Akira Class, and looked a lot newer, too. Marcus took the joystick in hand, preferring manual control instead of Autopilot and Tractor beam. Lining up on the landing lights in the fighter bay, he eased back on the throttle until his relative speed was within regulated specs, and slowly passed through the force field barrier, slowing and descending until his forward momentum stopped at the same instant his gear touched the deck. he was always a little proud of his ability to do that. It required quite a bit of control, but he could pull it off with practiced ease.

Shutting down his engines, he opened the cockpit. The cool air of the flight deck caressed his face with the familiar scent of the flight deck as he dismounted, not waiting for the stepladder. He was already grabbing his duffle bag which contained his personal gear and uniforms when a Coverall-clad crewmember approached him and came to attention. "Sir,! Welcome aboard, Sir."

The kid in the coveralls didn't look a day over eighteen. He smiled. "Thank you, crewmate. My orders were to report to the... Deputy CAG? I take it the CAG is too buy at the moment?"

"Sir, the CAG is unavailable at the moment. The Deputy CAG's Office is on one deck up, behind the Traffic Control center."

He thanked the young Crewmember and headed directly to the office indicated. Setting down his duffel, he rang the door chime.

"It's open! We don't stand on ceremony here," a female voice called.

Marcus picked up his duffel and walked in. A shock of wild white hair framed a familiar face. He grinned. “Sorceress! I haven’t seen you since flight school! How in hell did you wind up here?”

"Got itchy to be back in the cockpit," she said, grinning. "This old bird still needs to fly." She laughed at her own joke. "I saw your name on the transfer list. So, how you been since I last saw you?"

Marcus Grinned right back. "Good. Made a little bit of a name for myself, but haven't made ace yet. You've seen my service record." His countenance fell. "I still don't see why they gave me that medal after I screwed the pooch so badly on that mission. I still feel like it was my fault. Maybe I need this new assignment." He studied his hands, not wanting to meet his former instructor's gaze.

Phyllis stared at him for a minute. "Did you learn from it?" she asked bluntly.

"Honestly, Sorceress, I don't know. It was the worst dogfight I've ever been in. There were twice as many of them as there were of us. Ice Queen was watching my six while I went after a couple of fighters that were harassing Snowball. We were getting creamed. One by one, my squad's radios went dead. Ice had to kill 6 fighters while I had tunnel vision." he paused. " I almost had 'em! two more seconds and I could've..."

He shuddered. "Snowball bought it just as I got in phaser range. The two fighters who splashed him flipped their noses backward and fired at me. I threw a split S evasion, and the next thing I know, Ice Queen was hit. She was leaking atmo, and none of my guys were left except her. I saw red. I... lost control. I still don't know what kind of moves I pulled, but they must have though I was bat-s**t crazy, and they broke off after I splashed three more of 'em. I made sure Ice was sill alive, but her fighter was pretty banged up. Luckily, she got her O2 mask and her emergency force field up, We limped back to our ship, both of us sucking fumes, and I made sure she made it back to the hangar before I landed. They took her to sick bay. I found out later it was an an ambush."

Marcus' fists clenched. "I should've seen it sooner! I let my whole group get waxed except for one, and they gave me a medal." He turned haunted eyes towards the El-Aurian. "I don't know, Sorceress. I don't know what I'm supposed to have learned. Maybe that I'm a good pilot, but I'm not squadron leader material? I'm still not sure what strings were pulled to get me this assignment." He stopped talking, and his eyes had the infamous thousand yard stare.

"What signs did you miss?" Phyllis asked. "How should you have known it was an ambush?"

"I should've... There was... my instincts..." he floundered, trying to grasp the memories of that mission. "It was a perfect place for an ambush, and I wasn't paying enough attention. The red alert klaxons should have been going off n my brain, but I was too busy enjoying flying..." The pilot clenched his fists again. "it should have been me," he finished weakly.

"The perfect place for an ambush?" She leaned forward. "Because you got caught? Because you were two seconds too late?" Her eyes narrowed. "Or because you lived?"

"Because..." Her words sank in. Then he sank into a chair. He collected his thoughts, and squared his shoulders. "The squadron commander is ultimately responsible for everything that happens, or doesn't happen in their squadron. They are responsible for their squadron's lives, and for their deaths." He quoted from the regs. He looked at the floor again. "It was my job to see to their safety, and I failed them. I shouldn't have survived that mission, Sorceress. Hell, maybe only a part of me survived." He looked at his former instructor. "Does anyone up in Command actually believe that I'm ready for that kind of responsibility again?"

"Haven't you ever heard the old adage about horses?" she asked. "You know, when you fall off a horse, you get right back on it. If not, you'll let it mess with your head and you'll second-guess yourself. You'll lose your edge. What you have, Gladius, is a bad case of survivor guilt. Yes, a squadron leader is responsible for the safety of his or her wing. But ambushes happen. Battles are lost. Pilots die. Hell, I've seen thousands of pilots die over the centuries. I still can't prevent it." She wasn't laughing any more. This was serious business and they both knew it. "You are only responsible if you cause their deaths because of something you do or don't do. You know that. Do you honestly think Starfleet didn't go over every detail of what happened? Do you think they made a mistake?"

Marcus sighed. "They kept drilling it into my head that they were investigating every possibility. I thought for sure I would be court martialed. But then they gave me a medal..." He looked at his former instructor. "They kept telling me it wasn't my fault, but I see Snowball's face and all the rest in my dreams." Then his countenance changed. "But they didn't look angry or disappointed, they looked cheerful. Why had I never noticed that before?" He looked down again. "I still don't know if Starfleet made the right call, but I'm willing to give them the benefit of the doubt. I'll try and do a good job."

"Our job is to fight the enemy. No matter how much we train, how careful we are, we don't always win. Sometimes good pilots die. Remember them. Put a memento in your bird. Use it as a reason to keep going, not a reason to quit." She stood. "I expect you to be at your best or I might just shoot you down myself." Then she laughed. "Welcome aboard, Gladius. I look forward to flying with you." She paused. "Did they tell you you're in charge of Squadron D?"

Marcus arched an eyebrow. "Squadron D, huh? What can you tell me about them?"

"Not a lot. Trigman is mixing everyone up. I can tell you that he's over Yamaha. A man named Dillinger, call sign Speedy, is over Harley. A woman named Hunter, call sign Bobcat is over Dukati. You'll be over Triumph. For the rest, it'll depend on how Trigger wants to arrange things. Bobcat and Speedy are both good pilots, so you're in good company. I think I'll let you get to know the other pilots and make up your own mind."

Marcus reached across the desk, offering the senior officer his hand. "Thanks for the pep talk, Sorceress. I'll settle in and then meet my squadron."

"Any time. I may not be much on pep, but I'm a great talker." She laughed and shook his hand. "I look forward to flying with you again."

He chuckled at her joke. "I knew there was a reason you were my favorite instructor. See you on the flight line." He left her office.
____
OFF

Lieutenant Marcus Decius 'Gladius'
Squadron Leader
USS Tokyo

Lieutenant Commander Phyllis D'lar 'Sorcerous'
Deputy CAG
USS Tokyo

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