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connection to it. He located the damage where the wing and engine had been either ripped off or obliterated.
    “Look at her. The metal has been melted away like it was nothing at all. Gerty is one of the toughest little birds I’ve ever flown, and I’ve flown a few. But that thing, that weapon. We might as well have had paper walls. If it had hit us dead on, none of us would be here to discuss it.”
    “It was a damn good bit of flying,” Taylor murmured, attempting to reassure him, “damn lucky flying.”
    Rains slowly turned and looked back to Taylor. His face was pale, and he quivered a little as he responded.
    “Luck! How many times can we expect to survive by luck? It can’t last forever.”
    Taylor stepped up and laid his hand on Eddie’s shoulder.
    “Tough day, but not nearly as tough as it could have been. We all came back alive. Take a few hours. Get some food and sack time. The Admiral is finding us bunks, use them.”
    Eddie nodded in appreciation and staggered off to do as ordered. Taylor looked around to the others who had gone with him.
    “That goes for the rest of you. Get your heads down. Rest, and get some chow. We have a long way ahead of us. I want you ready for anything we have to face!”
    None of them moved for a moment.
    “Fall out, go!”
    They scattered before him, and he was left with Huber and his detail.
    “Your people have done some fine work throughout all this, Colonel. Do not think it has gone unnoticed.”
    “Appreciated, Sir, but we don’t ask for anything. All we want is to win.”
    Huber looked surprised.
    “Win? The battle or the war?”
    “Everything,” Taylor replied dryly.
    With that, he turned and left without as much as a salute to the Admiral or request of leave. Huber did not question it. He felt humbled before the Colonel and knew he would have to rely on him for so many things in the times to come.
    Taylor carried on in a weary fashion. Only Morris strode beside him. For a moment he imagined it was Jones walking alongside him, and he turned to make a crack at his British comrade, and then realised it could not be.
    “You okay, Colonel?”
    Taylor stopped. He was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to lie down where he stood and sleep. But he turned to Morris, who he knew needed a lesson in being an officer within his unit.
    “Being okay isn’t a luxury we can afford, Captain. Being okay is for the civilians to feel while we protect them. While we fight for the survival of our race so that they can go on living. So that there is still a human race left after all this. So, yes, I am okay. I am okay as any man or woman in the Inter-Allied Regiment is entitled to feel. I am glad to have you with us, Captain, but do not forget your duty.”
    Taylor turned and left. Morris could not help but feel abandoned and alone. Taylor knew he would, but he was too exhausted to explain it any further. More than that, he knew Morris had a strong will, but not yet strong enough.
    He carried onwards. The Washington was roughly familiar to him. He knew where to find the officers’ quarters and made his way there. Somehow he expected to have someone guiding him to his quarters, but it never happened. Finally a Sergeant of the marines approached him.
    “Can I help you, Sir?”
    “Looking for…where I can call home, I guess.”
    “Sir, your unit are back the way you came and port side. Sector 34F.”
    He looked surprised and more than a little puzzled. The Sergeant could see it in his face.
    “I’m sorry, Sir, but there isn’t any accommodation available in the officers’ quarters at present. We’re already running pretty tight and cycling beds through duty rosters.”
    “I…uh…see, Sergeant, thank you. Thirty what was it?”
    “34F, Sir, it’s just…”
    “I got it, thanks.”
    "You okay, Sir?"
    He nodded before turning and wandering on. He finally saw a familiar face. Sergeant Silva giving orders to a squad outside the entrance to 34F. He looked as wide-awake and