“How bad were our losses?”
At the other end of the comm channel, Izra Dargan grimaced. He looked no worse for wear except for a cut above his eyebrow and some soot on his face. “Six pilots and almost a squadron’s worth of fighters. Ten more wounded to varying degrees and another squadron’s worth of starfighters damaged, but repairable.”
From a far enough distance, an outside observer would notice little difference between the debris filling a certain swath of the Aten-Re system. Yorick coral and durasteel alike, each was only a small, twinkling point of light, bathed in the soft blue glow of Aten. Were it not for the unnatural concentration in so small an arc, each little point would be easily mistaken for a distant star.