r on standby readiness, this is your
commanding officer. The carrier J.S. Bach and all its crew have been
lost." Pause. "There is nothing that can bring them back, or justify
their death. They will be sorely missed.

"But know this: that they died not in any act of aggression, but
defending their homes, and the ones they loved. It may be small
consolation, but we have hurt our enemy badly. They no longer have the
position or the firepower to seriously threaten us. I won't lie to
you. More men and women will die before our reinforcements arrive.
And there is no more fairness to who dies in battle than there is to
who is struck down by fatal illness, and who is left to die of age.....
We can only continue, and hope that our acts will one day be
remembered, and our sorrows vindicated.

"My strategy from this point forward will be to engage the enemy as
little as possible, which is only now a viable option. Take heart in
the fact that this is now a fight he cannot win, unless he holds some
card that is hidden from me. The colonies, the people you guard, are
safe. And if we keep our courage and our wits about us, we will see
him beaten before the day is passed."

Dubcek signaled the communications officer to shut him off, said to
Masaryk, "I'll be in my quarters. I don't think he'll try to attack
again soon, but call me if he does." And left the battle room.

Brunner gathered himself, sat down before the console and tried to
think.

*

After perhaps fifteen minutes he got up and asked Commander Masaryk to
be relieved, saying that he felt ill. The executive officer, who knew
a thing or two, looked hard at him and said, "If you've got any sense,
you'll be careful what you say to him."

Brunner nodded, and walked slowly out into the main corridor, then
through several passages before reaching the short hallway that ran
before his Commanding Officer's chamber.

Remaining a short distance from the doorway, he hesitated. He gathered
his courage, turned the corner and entered the room.

"Sir, may I speak---" He stopped, seeing the older man sitting quietly
at a wooden table, a bottle and glass in front of him. "I'm sorry,
sir..... Excuse me." So far as he (or anyone) knew, the Colonel never
drank.

"No, no. Come in. You have not discovered a terrible secret. I have
an artificial liver; didn't you know? I can turn it higher whenever I
wish---the first sign of combat---and be sober in two minut