"We lost a hundred and thirty good men and women." Don Avon said in a solemn voice. Everyone standing on the deck also had solemn expressions. Sadness pervaded the atmosphere as silent whimpers oscillated throughout the crowd.
Xasha looked at Avon intensely. He didn't know how to feel any worse than he felt at that moment. He felt so much he was going numb.
"Boy, how is that nasty habit of self-blame treating you?" Fitzroy came over and patted Xasha on the back. His friendly Pat's felt like a full-powered attack, sending shockwaves throughout Xasha's body.
Xasha chuckled at his words, but Fitzroy could see that his laughter was forced. He shook his head while saying. "This outcome is the best we could have hoped for."
Xasha looked at Fitzroy as if he had a head growing from his forehead. He was about to speak in rebuke, but Fitzroy cut him off.
