The carrier Akagi
Inside her combat information center, cold light bathed every face. Status boards glowed red and amber.
Admiral Akari stood in the center well. The big tactical display showed the ocean as a ring of smoke and wreckage. Blue icons—his ships—formed three concentric lines. Far to the south and east, two more clusters of red glimmered: the remaining Indiana fleets. Between them, over the burning sea, only twenty-two red icons still clung to the sky.
"Sky-ships count verified at two-two," an officer reported. "All others confirmed destroyed or falling."
"Air Wing status," he asked.
"Eagle and Raven flights on final recovery. Last F-35s crossing the wire now. No remaining strike aircraft in the battlespace."
Akari gave a single nod. "Good. All aircraft are to remain on deck until further notice. Confirm to every carrier."
"Aye, sir. All aircraft secured."
The room steadied around the quiet order. Pilots knew what it meant: the next move would not involve them.
