Requiem of a Nightmare

by Jeremy Spires

  “Of course, Colonel.” She said, nodding, then turned and started tapping a keyboard on a console. “To what rank?”

  I glanced around, and my eyes settled back on Mallory. “Command Sergeant Major.” I replied. We had the rank, but we had been an operational military force for such a short time, nobody had the required time in grade for that position. I was a Colonel only by virtue of being selected to lead the battalion by the council.

  She nodded, tapping information into the computer system. “So, entered into the system, Colonel.” We didn’t do memorial services, and we didn’t have religious rites, but we did mourn for our fallen. I tried hard not to think about the people we had lost on Vandor. I tried not to think about my home planet, pushed into a star by a dangerous race of hateful birds.

  “Thank you,” I replied, then turned. “I’ll go speak to them.”

  “You want me to come?” Mallory asked me suddenly. I turned to her in surprise, raised my eyebrows. She shrugged. “If you want.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “But I can handle this one myself.”

  She nodded and turned back to her displays, monitoring the docking procedure. I headed for the bank of elevators at the back of the bridge, keyed in deck six, and felt the shift in gravity as it started down the long tube. Our ships had artificial gravity since the original ship, Vandor had departed Earth. According to the records salvaged from the ships used to bring our ancestors to Vandor, there had been a fair amount of vomit floating around the ship during their flight to Mars, which would have been down right icky.

  The lift stopped, and I stepped out, right into a small group of Phelb soldiers waiting to ride up. They stepped back, saluted me and a few had big grins. I nodded at them, stepped by and continued into the open area of the deck, which was a sort of large atrium. Trees grew on the grounds, grass covered parts of the ground, metal pathways wandered through the area. It was not as massive as it could have been, maybe four hundred yards long and one hundred yards across.

  Oh, yes, if I’ve never mentioned it before, our carriers are huge. Only the dreadnoughts outclass these opulent ships, and those have no creature comforts. When I designed them on Novela, I built them to kill anyone and anything that stood between us and victory.

  Why did a ship built for war have a huge atrium in the middle of it? Have you ever been locked in a titanium and composite tube, blasting through space at five hundred times the speed of light, for more than a year at a time? No? Then you probably wouldn’t understand why it was necessary to have grass and trees and a semblance of normal life during those times.

  The desk was exclusively for recreation, used mainly by the families embarked with the soldiers and navy staff. Overhead, artificial sunlight radiated down from four huge lamps that emitted radiation at a similar level to that of Vandor’s sun, so that the children that lived aboard the ship wouldn’t be terribly disturbed by a different spectral frequency. Children came first and foremost in our society, and many were running around, laughing, screaming with glee on playground equipment, smiling. Smiling faces all over the ship today, I noticed. When I looked closer, I saw that Phelb children were also mixed into the playground with the Vandorian children, all mixing together so nicely. I paused briefly to watch, grateful that Vearse hadn’t been killed in action against the Phelbs.

  I exhaled slightly and started back down the path towards the bar, the illuminated sign above the door showing the words “Deck Six, Officers club”. The Vearse family stood outside the bar, looking solemn and sad. My heart tightened as I approached them. I stopped a few feet away and bowed my head respectfully. “Sir. Ma’am.” I said softly. “I am Colonel Valentine, First Sergeant Vearse’s commanding officer in the night stalkers.” I extended a hand and both his mother and father shook.

  “We were expecting Sergeant Stevins,” Miranda Vearse said, his mother. “We didn’t want to inconvenience you, sir.”

  “Please, ma’am.” I replied, gesturing them inside. “Call me Destota, speaking with you is no inconvenience.” I assumed the table that I usually sat at with Ivata and Mallory, and immediately the barkeeper appeared out of nowhere with a whiskey for me, took orders from my guests. Drinks appeared moments later, and then we were left alone in silence. “I was told you desired an audience with Sergeant Stevins.” I said softly, doing my best to keep the usual power and authority out of my voice.

  “Yes…Destota.” Davis Vearse said, his eyes on his drink. “We wanted to ask about David.”

  “Of course,” I said, taking a sip of my whiskey. “What can I tell you?”

  “Is it true that he was with a young woman from your unit?”

  I blinked rapidly and set my drink down on the table once more. “I admit to some surprise.” I replied, running back my memory to try and remember if David had ever mentioned a woman in his life. The needed division between officers and enlisted had made it impossible to be close with any of my soldiers. Although, when I thought about it, that was a little dumb, since we were all simply selected volunteers. “But I don’t know about him having a relationship that I am aware of.” A felt a pang, because I hadn’t even been aware of his death until the doctor told me while I was in the healing station.

  “Her name was…Grace? Lieutenant Valerie Grace, I think.” Miranda said, frowning.

  That was even more surprising. The officer that had replaced the disgraced Venlent had been on the Gilbaglian ship with me, but she had been so wildly professional that I had no idea that she was involved with Vearse. “She is in my command,” I replied. The night stalkers were such a new organization and had been thrown directly into battle that rules for this sort of thing had never even been written in readiness. “But again, I was unaware. Would you like to speak to her?” I asked, withdrawing my communications unit from my pocket.

  “Very much so, sir.” Davis, Vearse’s father nodded vigorously. “If that can be arranged.”

  I paused for a half second, then tapped in her code. “Lieutenant Grace,” Came the swift reply.

  “Lieutenant, this is Colonel Valentine. Report to Deck Six club as soon as possible.” I said.

  “Understood sir.” The unit clicked off and I set it down on the table, took another drink, and looked up at the two of them.

  “With all due respect, I have to ensure the safety of my people. This isn’t some sort of ambush in anger, is it?” I asked, keeping a wary eye on them.

  “No, sir, nothing like that.” Miranda waved her hands. “Sir, we were given to understand that she was pregnant.”

  I tried not to let this news make my eyes widen, but I am sure they did. Was everyone on this ship pregnant? What had the Phelbs put in the water when we weren’t looking? “Pregnant?” I stammered. “Lieutenant Grace?”

  The doors opened with a sigh of air and the Lieutenant stepped over to our table and saluted me crisply. “Reporting as ordered, sir.” She said, back straight and eyes forward, perfectly proper.

  I blinked at her a few times, then slid deeper into the booth to give her a place to sit. “Stand easy, Lieutenant, you’re off duty for the purpose of this meeting.” This would also ease the burden of putting anything in her log regarding this…I hesitated to call it a meeting, because that seemed so formal, but I don’t have the words to express what this was. Unusual, strange, different.

  Awkward.

  “Yes sir.” She slid into the booth next to me, completely at ease and glanced across the table at my guests. “Hello sir, ma’am.” She said, extending a hand. “I’m Lieutenant Valerie Grace.”

  Miranda smiled warmly at her, and I made a mental note to shut the hell up for the entire duration of this unless someone needed picturizing. “It is so nice to meet you, Lieutenant.” She said, squeezing the younger woman’s hand. There were seldom any surprises in Vandorian culture regarding bloodlines. In fact, many had to be closely monitored due to the fact that there had been so few of us when we arrived on Vandor that we had to be careful about who bred with who to prevent any gen
etic abnormalities.

  “You as well, ma’am.” Grace frowned slightly. She was a pretty girl, the same age as Mallory and I. She had routinely commanded Wraith team against my team in training. She was good, not extraordinary, but good. She had medium brown hair and blazing green eyes that were almond shaped, framed by pale skin. She had a scar that ran from her brow, chased down the bridge of her nose and ended just above her upper lip on the right side. From a Phelb knife during the assault on Vandor, from what her report stated.

  There was a long awkward silence and I tapped my fingers on my glass then finally spoke. “Lieutenant, you’re not bound to answer this question, as we are both off duty.” I said. “However, with the death of First Sergeant Vearse, these people,” I gestured to the civilians. “Are his parents, and they were given to understand that you may be pregnant with David’s child.” I said this as softly as I could while still being a commanding officer. “Understand, there are no penalties for interacting with a subordinate in any fashion, and you’re under no obligation to disclose any private information.” This, I said with authority, and a meaningful glance at the family Vearse.

  Grace went pale as the blood pooled in her boots. Her lips trembled for a moment, and all I could see was not the hardcore special operations soldier I had trained with and fought with, but a young woman who had lost someone dear to her and now had a terrible secret. She looked at me imploringly and I felt a terror deeper than anything I’d ever experienced on the battlefield. She needed a fatherly presence and I was the closest thing.

  Well…that backfired on me, I guess.

  “Colonel…” She said, her voice shaky. “I’m…yes, sir, I am.”

  Shit. Shit shit shit. What did I do now? “Uh.” I said, helpfully. “I…I…That’s okay.” Again, I’ve never claimed to be a lady’s man or have the facts of life totally under my control. My father died when I was twenty-two after all, he’d never even known that Mallory and I were romantically involved. I did, however, know that single mothers were extremely well cared for. Divorce was uncommon on Vandor. Not because we are amazingly perfect people like it may seem, there just weren’t that many of us. It was like living in Switzerland in the twentieth century, there just were not that many choices, and you tended to choose well and stick with your choice. “We will handle it, Lieutenant.” I said.

  “Sir, if I may,” Davis said, holding out a hand. He was older than me. Age was hard to tell. We appeared to stop aging around thirty years of age, when the fullness of our genetic modifications took hold, and then we started to ease into our long-ended lifespan. He could have been thirty, or three hundred. I had no idea, so I nodded and deferred to his wisdom. “We checked with the statistic group,” That was our version of the census aboard the fleet to keep track of everyone from the planet, as well as the city carriers. “And we saw that your family was killed in the initial invasion.” He said this gently, with what I felt was true concern in his eyes.

  She nodded, tears making her eyes glassy. I slid a handkerchief out of my pocket and pushed it across the leather seat until it contacted her hand. I did this without moving much of my upper body. She accepted it and dabbed at her eyes. “Yes.” She said finally, forcing the tears away. “David and I formed a relationship aboard the orbital stations after Destota,” She nodded towards me. “Landed on the planet. When the Colonel was recovered, we continued. I only found out a few days before we deployed to the Gilbaglian ship. And yes, my parents were lost on the same carrier as Destota’s.”

  That, I didn’t know. For a moment, I blinked rapidly as I forced away the memory of watching the city carrier that my entire family was aboard disintegrating under Phelb fire.

  Miranda nodded. “We…never had the chance to meet before we lost him.” She said, choking on her words a little. “We would love it if you would let us be part of this pregnancy and help you any way we can.”

  She turned to me and I felt that same helpless fear in my chest. “This is not my decision to make, Lieutenant.” I said firmly. “I will consult with the medical staff aboard the ship and with Admiral Valentine and the Council to discuss how our women will serve during their pregnancies and after.” New mothers were revered on Vandor, as were their children. This was getting to be too much for me, and I needed to escape the awkward situation. “Until then, what you choose to do with your life is completely up to you, Lieutenant.” I raised a brow and she rose from the seat and allowed me to escape. I quickly downed the rest of my whiskey, slipped from the booth. I nodded at them and slipped out, running a hand through my hair, which was growing longer than regulation.

  I exhaled and another night stalker in his black dress uniform fell into step with me as I left the club. “Rough night, sir?”

  “Kelis,” I said as we headed for the lifts. “If I ever say that I prefer administrative work to combat, please shoot me.”

  The Sergeant chuckled. “Yes, sir.”

  “What is it, Sergeant?” I asked, walking briskly towards the lift back to the bridge where I could discuss the ramifications with the council.

  “Sir, the Phelb Chancellor would like to arrange a meeting with you. Also, we have a request from Vandorian arms for you to report to the armory.”

  In addition to a large atrium on the ship, it also had a massive foundry that could create weapons and ammunition from raw materials, usually harvested from asteroids or small moons.

  Hey, if you’d been chased across the galaxy on several occasions, your ships would probably be outfitted to survive on their own for long periods of time too. Don’t judge us.

  “What do they want to meet me about?” I asked, pressing the button to call the lift.

  “They have new weapons for the night stalkers for your consideration, sir.” Kelis said with a grin.

  I raised an eyebrow. “That sounds promising.” I said. “And what does the Chancellor want?”

  “I have no idea, sir. What does any Phelb want?”

  I grinned at him. He was a year younger than me, smart, and fierce with blonde hair and electric blue eyes. He looked more like a kid than any of the young special operations soldiers I had under my command. “Probably for us not to get angry and kill all of them.”

  We chuckled. “Tell Wrathe I’ll meet him in two weeks. Tell Vandorian arms that I’ll shuttle over to the city carrier in a few hours to meet with them.”

  Kelis nodded. “Anything else, sir?”

  “Yeah, actually.” I frowned as the door opened to the lift and expelled two Phelb civilian women. “We’re going to need to work up a better command structure, Kelis. Right now, I have one Major, three Lieutenants and ten Sergeants in charge of over a hundred thousand soldiers.”

  Kelis nodded. “This has been discussed among the Sergeants, sir.” He said. “I don’t think that we ever had enough time to assemble a proper command crew.”

  I scoffed. “Something like that. I was made a Colonel, and two days later were fighting on what we thought was the Gilbaglian home world. I never had time to do anything.”

  He shrugged. “No body holds it against you, sir. Now that we have time, however…”

  “Good plan. Tell Major Noku to meet me in my office, please.”

  Kelis nodded, I stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for deck two, where my office was situated behind the primary communication center. I stepped in and found my wife sitting in my chair, glaring at me.

  “I said I’d go,” I protested lamely. “We’ll go, I swear, I just have some Colonel stuff to do.”

  “Vearse got Grace pregnant?” She asked.

  I frowned. “How did you hear about that already?”

  “Starships have faster than light rumor mills.” She replied. “I’m not here to lecture you about Vandorian Arms,” She said, standing and sitting down on my desk, instead of in my high-backed chair. I sank into it. “I’m here to help you.”

  Ivata stepped through the door and paused. “Reporting as ordered, Colonel.” He said, giving a half salute an
d a smirk. “Am I interrupting?”

  “Major, we have an issue.” I said, as Mallory slid off my desk and into one of my chairs with her usual feline grace.

  “What’s the issue now?” He asked, sitting down in the other chair. “Did the Phelbs not offer another ship load of bacon?”

  I laughed despite myself. “No, they are sending another for the fleet. It’ll fine. No, we have a command issue, actually.”

  This wiped the smile off Ivata’s face. “What kind of command issue, sir? Have you had problems with insubordination?”

  I laughed out loud again. As if I’d ever have any kind of insubordination in the night stalkers. “No, not even close, Ivata. I don’t have enough command staff, since you left active combat, we have no Captains, three Lieutenants, and a handful of Sergeants.” I said.

  “Wait a minute,” Mallory said. “Didn’t Vearse’s parents die on Vandor?”

  Ivata and I both stopped and looked at her. “What?” I asked.

  “Davis and Miranda Vearse were confirmed dead on Vandor after the first Phelb assault.” She said, reaching into her pocket and tapping furiously on her tablet. “Unless…”

  “Okay, you lost me.” I said. “I just met with them.”

  The lights dimmed, and a klaxon blared through the ship.

  “Here we go again.” Ivata sighed.

  “Intruder alert,” A voice boomed over the comm. “Gilbaglian life signs detected onboard Shadow of Eternity!”

  I stood and paced to the weapon locker in the corner of my office. I opened it and tossed a carbine to Ivata, and a pistol to Mallory before pulling my big pistol out and racking the slide.

  “Full lockdown,” Mallory ordered into her comm unit. “Nobody leaves this ship.” She sounded pissed, I didn’t blame her.