I stood over the body of what could be considered my only friend. Her arm was gone, the area had severe trauma. The doctors had said that a proper doctor would be needed, likely aboard the Keras' Traveler.

  The bridge crew got minced, and replacements were scrambled. The light cruiser we had been fighting had cut and run with the deaths of what I presume was their commanders. A good thing, as I don't believe that our small escort fleet would have gotten out as unscathed as we had if they decided to stick with it.

  Our convoy rejoined in its totality, and we slowly moved away from the battle site. We slipped into the warp, and that was that.

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  The entire event, from start to finish was relatively quick. We drove off our enemy, killed high value targets which we would turn over, and no one of true import was dead.

  The bridge crew getting slaughtered was a shame, and the tale of my actions was spreading, but I cared little. The remaining bridge officers were spinning it in a good light. A 'heroic' defense with many sacrifices and martyrs. So on and so forth.

  I just sat in the dark, watching my friend breath laboriously, and wondered if I had been optimal in my choices. At the beginning, yes. I had gotten Anibeli away from the danger, with as little damage as I could.

  I killed two, one in the surprise assault, and a second from behind. The first kill was slap dash, and resulted in my body being damaged. The second allowed the crew to put up greater resistance and eventually take down our foe.

  When I finished off the third... it was with malice and disdain. I wanted the thing that harmed my objective to feel agony. that is where efficiency ended.

  But for some reason, I just don't care. But I will do better. I must. Things had gotten too close.