The Home World

You’re too close. Your Fighters are interfering with my defensive screen.

There was a squelch, some crackling, and finally, a voice came over the public address system.
“Monserrate de la Astolfo, this is the Ander El Aitor, speak to me,” Lieutenant Jaya Perwira pleaded. “Your screen is blocking my number seven launch tube. You’re too close. Your Fighters are interfering with my defensive screen. Monserrate de la Astolfo, come back, Monserrate de la Astolfo this is the Ander El Aitor…”

I reached out and turned down the volume. Wind Chime’s frantic pleas dropped to background noise. Everyone in the courtroom froze as if they’d stepped into space without a vacuum suit. The temperature dropped with each of her desperate words. It was deadly silent in the hearing room except for her lone, low voice crying for help.
Then another voice broke through. This one came from the table for the defense.
“Give me my ship,” Haitham whispered.
“What?” asked Admiral Kiril.
“I said, give me my ship,” Haitham repeated a little louder.
“Well, see here,” Judge Kiril blustered but was drown out by Rear Admiral Haitham’s growl.
“Give, Me, My, Ship,” he yelled jumping to his feet. “Give me, my ship, Now!”

“Monserrate de la Astolfo, this is the Ander El Aitor, CombatControl, speak to me,” Lieutenant Jaya Perwira begged.

The military commander for the Dos sector bit his lip and beads of sweat broke out on his forehead. Admiral Kiril stared at Haitham with confusion in his eyes. The Rear Admiral was practically standing on his tip toes, and he eyes were locked on Kiril. Only his lips moved.
I read what Eaglet said silently, almost as if it were a chant.
“Give-Me-My-Ship,” Haitham mouthed. “Give-Me-My-Ship.”

Staff officers ran in and out of the room. Kiril’s PID was exploding with messages and still, Haitham kept the Admiral locked in his gaze while repeating the four-word mantra. “Give, Me, My, Ship.”
In a moment of clarity, Admiral Kiril broke the stare and screamed, “The BattleShip is yours!”