At that moment all he knew was hatred and grief. For perhaps a minute he ignored his instruments, glaring instead at Dubcek's back, silently daring him to turn around.
Suddenly a ship burst apart directly in front of them, not more than ten kilometers off. Out of the wreckage a tiny white projectile moved toward them, and others of similar shape were sent flying in all directions. To his horror Brunner recognized them as men. Too light an object to trigger their shields, the writhing body came straight at them, seeming to gather speed, and with a final orgasm of misery, crashed against the glass.
With a dull thud it bounced off and back into the emptiness of Space, leaving a wide splotch of blood on the glass at their commander's feet. If Brunner hated him then, the emotion changed when the man finally did turn around. There were no tears, but something in his face spoke of a much deeper wound. His voice boomed across the room.
"If there is anyone here who does not yet know what war is, look with your eyes!" His arm jerked toward the stain. "It is blood! Blood and men dying."
As if cued by these words a blinding flash, followed in rapid succession by several others, lit the room. The enemy carrier, finally scoring a direct and unshielded hit, had sent its blackened counterpart to infinity.
Q x Q
As if regretting his outburst Dubcek stood very still, then descended the high step and strode quickly to the command station. He took off the headset, and gave his orders.
"Battle cruiser B: I want a full spread of anti-matter torpedoes, then move in and finish him off. All remaining fighters back to Scypion Base; those that can't make it, to Mongoose emergency docks. Destroyer group A, prepare to clean up enemy stragglers."
"And the torpedo ships, Colonel?"
"Keep firing at the carrier until there is no carrier to fire AT."