"Captain," Sato shouted
"I know, Ensign," Harper replied. "Helm, set a course for the mouth of the wormhole. Sato, signal all ships and fighters to follow us in." The ship flew towards the whirlpool at breakneck speed, and Harper watched in relief as the blips on his RLADAR screen, indicating the position of the other ships, fell in line behind the Resolution.
"Captain, where are we going," Parker asked.
"We're taking a shortcut home. With the help of an old friend." As the Resolution neared the mouth of the wormhole, Harper heard Sato's console give off a series of klaxons.
"Five new Salaxian ships have entered the system and are on a pursuit course," Sato reported.
"Maintain course, if they follow us through, we'll deal with them on the other side." He checked his RLADAR screen to see how close they were, and his heart stopped. All of his ships were clear of the wormhole entrance, with the exception of the Eagle. It had come to a full stop, and turned. "Sato, connect me to the Eagle," Harper ordered.
"A little busy at the moment, Harper," Kramer’s voice rang out over the COM.
"Captain Kramer, this wormhole won't be staying open very long, and you can’t defeat five Salaxian ships on your own."
"I don’t think our ships are up to the fight collectively, either. I'll have to stop as many as I can. I sent your fighters to rejoin the fleet. Good luck, Captain."
The transmission ended abruptly. Harper muttered under his breath, "Same to you." He looked over at Parker, who looked as guilty as he felt. "I think I may have misjudged Captain Kramer."
"Me too," Parker replied, nodding solemnly.
The Salaxian ships pulled into firing range of the Eagle, and were immediately met with the full offensive power of the battered battleship. One Salaxian cruiser was destroyed before it could even open fire. The entire exchange lasted only a few minutes, but by the time the hull of the Eagle disintegrated in an antimatter explosion, only two scarred cruisers and a dreadnought remained.
The dreadnought picked up speed and entered the wormhole, but as the two remaining cruisers tried to follow, a violent tremor seemed to permeate the vacuum of space. The cruisers pulled away and attempted to retreat, but as the mouth of the wormhole narrowed and stretched towards the moon the gravitational forces ripped the ships apart.
The wormhole continued to narrow, and the gravitational forces began to pull on the surface of the moon. The atmosphere was ripped away and the ground crumbled. Pieces of the moons crust flew into the gaping jaw of the luminescent beast, until the portal collapsed, and only a crescent shaped hunk of rock remained.
The Resolution shuddered violently, and the luminous spinning walls of the wormhole seemed to slow. "Captain, the wormhole seems to be destabilizing," Sato reported.
"Should we go to warp,” Palmer suggested.
"In a wormhole? I wouldn’t," Harper replied. He turned his seat and looked through the aft viewport. The mouth of the wormhole had closed behind them, and a wall of light was bearing down on the fleet. He turned his seat forward and flipped on the intercom. "All hands, brace for impact. When the wall reaches us, we should just be pushed out the other side."
"Are you sure about that," Parker asked as she gripped the railing.
"Far from it," Harper replied. The wall collided with the aft section of the ship, turning it vertical and pushing them forward with what seemed like super luminal speed, till the ship was flung out of the wormhole.
"All ships accounted for, Captain," Sato announced.
"Location?"
"Sol system. Between the orbits of Earth and Mars," Palmer answered.
There was a roar of celebration on the bridge, but it was quickly silenced when a beam of energy flew past the ship, just missing the port side bow. "What was that," Harper shouted.
Sato checked his readings and replied, "A Salaxian dreadnought just appeared from where the wormhole closed."
Harper looked back and quickly spotted the ship. It was badly damaged, and the hull seemed to have been twisted by the force of the closing wormhole. "Hard about and open fire!"
All of the sound on the bridge seemed to be muted as Harper watched the last of Resolution’s missiles crash into the crippled Salaxian ship. It was a sight he had seen many times before, but the destruction of this dreadnought had a feeling of finality to it. The burden of over 70 years of war, lifting with every blast.
With a final antimatter explosion, the Salaxian dreadnought was reduced to dust. Harper leaned back in his seat and flipped on the intercom. "Stand down battle stations. Repeat. Stand down battle stations. The war is over." he flipped off the intercom and lost himself in thought for a moment. He stared down at the crystal, still clutched tightly in his hand. The glow was gone and it appeared worn and opaque. The telepathic link was broken forever with the death of its owner.
"Captain, incoming message from U.N.C. Command. They want a report," Sato explained.
Harper sighed. "That will have to go through Admiral Cotton."
His earpiece emitted a short double tone, and Doctor Dunfee’s voice came in. "Captain, you’re needed in sick bay as soon as possible."
His voice sounded grim, and Harper’s mind flashed back to the unconscious Glenn being removed from his cockpit. "I'll be down right away." He ended the transmission and leaped out of his seat. "Commander, you have the bridge." Ignoring the excruciating pain in his ribs, he ran down the corridor and into the elevator.
Chapter 17
The last soldier
July 4th 2213
1100
Sol System
Harper was out of breath by the time he reached the hatch to sick bay. When he stepped inside, there was a small moment of relief when he saw Glenn sitting on the end of one of the beds. His head was bandaged, but he was alive and well.
Harper walked up to him and patted him on the shoulder. It was then that he saw the crowd in the surgical bay, and his eyes were drawn to Kelly, looking more somber than Harper had ever seen him. He couldn’t see the patient’s face, but he could tell it was one of the SSEALs. When they had made their exit from the Salaxian base, Harper had noticed Kelly carrying one of his troops out, but had been in too much of a rush to see who it was.
When he entered the surgical bay, the patient looked up at him. It was Stone. His face was bloody, and his body limp. A charred hole in his stomach where aa energy blast had hit, was clearly visible. “Don’t look so sad, Captain. You should see the other guy,” Stone struggled to say.
Harper smiled and looked it up at Doctor Dunfee. The doctor shook his head silently, knowing exactly what he wanted to ask. “I know. You gave’em hell down there," Harper replied.
"Did we do it?"
Harper nodded. "You’re damn right we did. Mission accomplished. We won’t see the Salaxians again for a long time."
Stone struggled to speak again, "That's good, sir." He seemed to fade away at that moment, and the long tone from medical scanner indicated he had flat lined. Kelly reached forward and closed Stone’s eyes.
"Doctor, can I do it,” Harper asked. The doctor stared at him in surprise, before nodding and pressing the button to add a log to Stone's medical file. "Let the record show that on July fourth, twenty-two-thirteen, at 1105, Petty Officer First Class Michael Stone died in action, with honors. The last man to sacrifice his life in the Salaxian war.” Harper raised his arm in salute, and all of the SSEALs did the same.
"It’s a shame," Kelly remarked. "He died just before getting his own platoon. Would’ve made a great leader."
"You’re wrong. He’s a hero, and heroes don't die. His name will live on, long after we’ve been forgotten. Where was he from?"
"Terra Nova. In the Alpha Centuri system," Kelly replied.
Harper stared at Stone’s lifeless body for a long moment before tapping his earpiece. "Commander, set a course for Terra Nova. Maximum warp."
"We're taking him there personally," Kelly asked.
Harper walked over to Stone’s body and
grabbed his shoulder. "It was only yesterday that I couldn’t make my own way home, so he carried me. The least I can do is return the favor. We’ll carry him home."
Without another word, Harper exited the surgical bay and made his way to the corridor. He gave Glenn a passing nod and was grateful to him for not trying to engage him in conversation.
For the first time in his career, the heavy weight of the losses he had borne was overwhelming him. He walked the corridor by memory, as a stream of faces consumed his vision. All of the officers and crew members he had been close to, and who had given their lives to the service.
Some of them he could barely recall their names, while others were fresher in his mind. He remembered Captain McLeod’s last moments, and wondered what he would say now.
Harper stepped into the elevator, and let the doors close behind him. He stood motionless for what seemed like an eternity before pressing the button for B deck. As the car sprung into motion, he allowed himself to collapse against the wall. Unable to hold his composure any longer, he sobbed silently.
* * *
"So, you believe that she was the only one left," Cotton asked again.
Harper tried not to get frustrated with answering the same question for the fifth time. "Admiral, I’m all but certain. She was a telepathic being. If others from her tribe survived, I think she would’ve known," Harper replied patiently.
He turned his seat towards the simulated image of Terra Nova on the window of his ready room, but had to turn away immediately. Every time he looked at it, he was filled with sadness. Against standard procedure, Kelly and he were the lead pallbearers for Stone’s casket when it was carried off the shuttle.
Stones family was there to greet them, and Harper had never expected such a large turnout. A unique coincidence among members of the U.N.C. military, especially officers, is that most of them had very loose family ties, if any at all. Harper himself hadn’t spoken to his father in years, and his mother passed away when he was very young.
This was not the case with Stone. Waiting at the landing pad where his parents, grandparents from both sides, and a staggering number of siblings. It was a moment Harper would never forget. Stone's inconsolable mother collapsed on the casket as soon as it was set down. His father shook Harper’s hand, but was unable to look him in the eyes.
The rest of the family looked on with an expression somewhere between horror and disgust. Harper remembered hearing that centuries ago soldiers were respected nearly to a fault, but nearly 200 years after the human race had thrown off their war-torn history, military service was seen as less of an honorable sacrifice, and more of a necessary evil. For some, that evil was less acceptable than for others.
It was clear that this was how the Stone family felt, when they declined military honors for his funeral, in lieu of a quiet private ceremony. They reluctantly accepted the folded flag, and carried the casket to their own transport. Harper was disappointed at not being allowed to attend the funeral. He had so little time to truly get to know Stone, and was hoping to learn more about him from the eulogies given by his closest family.
"If you are correct, and they no longer have the wormhole technology, with their modest warp capability, we shouldn’t be seeing them again for some time," Cotton remarked.
"I agree. It took us over fifty years to figure out how to keep a stable warp field over eight hundred Cs. From what I saw of their technology, it will take them longer than that. Not to mention, they’ve been depending on wormhole technology for so long, they will probably have to start from scratch."
Cotton seemed to be trying to digest information she wasn’t ready for. "I apologize for my difficulty accepting all of this, John. I simply didn’t expect you to go out there and end the war single-handedly."
Harper took offense to the remark. Glancing at Parker, who was sitting on a small couch across the room, told him he wasn’t alone in the reaction. "With all due respect, Admiral, I didn’t do it single-handedly. There was no shortage of sacrifice to accomplish that very result."
Cotton's expression changed quickly from one of impermeable command authority, to that of guilt. "I apologize, John. I didn’t mean to belittle the contribution of everyone under your command. No offense intended."
"None taken," Harper lied.
Cotton smiled at him. "You have done exceptionally well. I’m very proud of you, and I know Tavish would be to. The fact that you reacted so strongly in defense of those under you, shows that you’ve grown as a commanding officer."
This compliment was the first uplift Harper felt since they returned to friendly territory. "Thank you, Admiral."
"I do implore you, however, to take one last lesson."
"What would that be?"
"I know you feel the burden of all the sacrifice that was made under your command on this mission. Even the souls on the Eagle are weighing you down. I can see it in your eyes. The death toll is hard to file under acceptable loss. Just try to remember the lives you have saved. The loss will remain the same, but every day we are free from the Salaxian attacks, the lives that would’ve been lost, without you and everyone who went on this mission, grow exponentially."
Harper thought about this for a moment, and found it only slightly dulled the pain he had been feeling. Perhaps, with time, the effect would become more apparent. "I’ll try to keep that in mind."
"It may be some time before the U.N.C. accepts that we are out of danger, but I will forward your reports. I think some of the data from those pyramids will send the scientific community into a tailspin. You, however, are overdue for some much-needed rest. I'll try to keep Admiral Conway from rushing you back to work. Take some shore leave."
"Understood."
Cotton stood and Harper did the same. He saluted her and she returned the gesture before walking out the hatch, joining her MP escort. Parker stood up and took the seat the admiral had just abandoned. She seemed unsure of what to say, so she simply looked around the room.
"Are you really keeping that thing as a pet," she asked, eyeing the terrarium where the serpent that had bitten Harper now resided.
"What, you don’t like Hydra?" Harper didn’t have the faintest idea of what an appropriate name for a snake would be, so he had taken Doctor Dunfee’s recommendation. He had said that Hydra was the name of a serpent in Greek mythology, and the namesake of a constellation visible from Earth.
"I just find it odd, that's all."
"Well, he’s actually very friendly."
"I’m sure he is. I just don’t know how appropriate it is for a military officer to have a pet on board."
"That reminds me. There was something I wanted to talk to you about," Harper said, as he walked to the table containing the late Captain's bottle of scotch. Harper poured a glass for both Parker and himself.
Parker grimaced, knowing exactly what was coming. "The kiss. John...I mean... Captain, I know it was wrong. I was just afraid I wouldn’t see you again. Can we just pretend it didn’t happen?"
"I don’t know about that, Sarah. To be honest, that is a big part of what got me through the mission on the surface." Harper handed a glass to Parker before he stepped behind the desk again.
Parker accepted the glass but stared at him with wide eyes, clearly expecting a fundamentally different conversation. "I don’t understand."
"Ever since I joined the defense force, I thought that this was going to be my whole life. I thought I would die a soldier. Not only did I accept that possibility, but I thought I preferred it. When you kissed me, I realized I was wrong."
The look on Parker’s face was one of cautious optimism. "John, I’m-"
"Hold on," Harper cut her off, not wanting to lose his nerve before finishing. Both as a pilot and naval officer, he had been in more hazardous situations than this, but the way his heart was beating, he felt like he was in a dogfight with no ammo, and no escape. "I realized at that moment that I wanted more for my life, and had for a long time. When Captain McLeod showed me the roster for th
e Resolution, and that he had taken my recommendation, I suddenly felt like I had been lonely for a long time, and that was all about to change. You've been more to me than my wingman, or my first officer. You’re my best friend." Harper suddenly felt the strong urge to get the scotch into his system, post haste.
Parker looked like she wanted to cry, and she knew it. So, she turned her gaze to Hydra, who was staring back at her with his head cocked sideways in curiosity. She took a drink while she found her words. "I feel the same way, John."
"I know. You made it very clear how you felt. I just didn’t have the guts to admit to myself, much less to you, that I felt the same."
She looked back at him, and he could see that she seemed disappointed. "Why are you doing this to me?"
Harper thought about what he had said, but was unable to find the source of her offense. "What do you mean?"
"I would rather have gone on thinking this was a one-way thing. You’re my superior officer. We can't do anything about our feelings."
Harper relaxed and laughed out loud. "Can't we? When I say, that kiss helped me get through the ground mission, I don’t just mean it motivated me to get back alive. In the universe before that mission, there would most likely have been nothing we could have done. But suddenly, I wanted nothing less than to change the universe. I ended a war for you, Sarah. Now that it’s over, there is no reason that we can’t muster out and go see what civilian life is all about. And there’s no one I would rather take on that mission with than you."
She smiled and wiped a stray tear away. "It's too bad we both just renewed our contracts."
Harper shrugged. "Maybe in a year or so, the Navy will be dismantled. Worst-case scenario, we spend the next five years as glorified customs enforcement. Five years isn't that long to keep things professional."
Parker nodded. "At least semiprofessional. In front of the crew."
Harper laughed. "Right. In front of the crew."
"So, where are we going for shore leave?"
I have somewhere mind. Unfortunately, it's not a commerce planet, so we may have a mutiny on our hands."
Resolution: Bad Star Page 18