The Reign: Mara - a Passion Uncontested

by Lance Berry

  Their union had been perfect in every way, it was surely a blessing from heaven. Could God truly be so callous as to take away the one perfect thing in her life?

  Please… David focused on Travis Rand and managed to reach up, clutching at the younger man’s hair. Rand leaned close to David, turning his ear toward him. David whispered something to him, Mara didn’t know what, and then…

  …and then…

  The hand fell to the deck with finality. He let out a final light, gasping sigh and his good eye closed. It was over. David was dead.

  Mara tilted her head back and wailed, the sound so strong and overwhelming that it seemed to vibrate the deck plates even further. She bent forward, clutching her husband’s chest, fingers raking the charred hair upon it as she leaned her head against his, the tears further dappling his blackened, already tear-stained face. “Oh no, oh no, oh no…”

  Her body shuddered, wracked by her sobs. She tried to focus on the times they’d had together, yet her mind could only replay the last few moments of this horrendous nightmare. She saw the console exploding, its light swallowing her husband and him falling to the deck again and again. She wailed into his face, her vision blurred by tears as she stared at his closed eyes and tried to will him back to life. It was of no avail. She was only vaguely aware of the shuddering of the deck plates, and of Rand moving away from them…it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered anymore. Soon the Calvorians’ weapons would penetrate the last of the Horizon’s shielding and crack the vessel in two, killing them all. That was fine with her. When David’s good eye closed and his chest stopped rising, her life had ended anyway, figuratively speaking. It may as well end for real, so her soul could race to heaven in an attempt to catch up to him.

  Hands on her shoulders caused Mara to look up. It was Ben

  Williams, looking down at her with empathy in his eyes.

  Behind and around him stood four med-techs, one of them carrying a folded anti-grav stretcher. A couple of the techs were looking down at David’s body in amazement; like Mara, they obviously never expected someone like David Christenson to ever meet his end.

  “Come on, honey. Come on,” Ben said quietly as he gently removed Mara’s arms from around her husband and got her to her feet. He then ordered the techs to open the stretcher and place David on it. A glimmer of hope stirred within her that Ben never referred to David as a body, but instead continued to call him “Captain Christenson.” Was it possible that she was wrong? Maybe Ben, with his years of skill and experience, had taken a quick assessment of David and saw a spark of life where she had not. Ben briefly let go of her and began examining the captain. As he did, she glanced toward the center of the bridge and saw Rand seated at helm, barking orders to the others around him. To her surprise, they carried out his commands without hesitation; he had somehow managed to pull them back together as a cohesive unit, in spite of the tragedy which was still unfolding. David once said that Travis was a natural leader, it was just that others couldn’t see it fully. As usual, he had been right.

  Mara turned back to observe Ben, and her spirits sank instantly. The doctor was covering David’s face with a white sheet—! “NO,” she cried and reached out to pull the sheet off of him, her denial working overtime to fill her with whatever hope remained, no matter how false it might be. Ben caught her and spun her to face him. He looked down at her and slowly, firmly shook his head. As she began to sob once more, he pulled her to him, allowing her to place her head on his chest and cry into it. With a gesture to his team, the group began to make its way to the lift at the bridge’s rear, a tech on either side of the stretcher…maintaining a forward direction as they moved the covered body off the bridge.

  The sound of straining, groaning metal briefly caught Mara’s attention and she happened to glance over at the central viewscreen. Jupiter was spinning by madly as the Horizon seemed to be moving away from it…was the fleet breaking ranks to regroup further from the pull of gravity, in order to better ward off the enemy? She stole a look at Rand, who was working his helm console like a man possessed—yet there was a determined assurance etched into his face, from what she could see of his profile. It didn’t matter. Nothing did anymore…she just wanted an end to it.

  Get it over with. Take this ship, kill me. I can’t live without him.

  She stumbled as the deck shook again, but Ben managed to catch her. She leaned her head back against his shoulder as he led her into the lift. The med-techs with the stretcher followed, and the doors closed behind them, cutting off the noise from the bridge.

  “Deck nine,” Ben said aloud, and the smartware responded instantly, ordering the lift to descend. Mara sobbed as she stared numbly at the white sheet covering her husband’s body.

  That was it, then. This was the end of everything good in her life. There would be no more happy moments, no more smiles, no more fun shared with the man of her dreams. She let out a long, defeated sigh and held tightly to Ben as the doctor gently rubbed her arm.

  The lift finally reached its destination and the doors opened once again. The doctor led her and the group down the long, straight corridor. They reached sickbay and as the doors parted Mara had to squint a moment as her eyes adjusted to how bright it was in here, as opposed to the muted grey of the light reflecting off the metal halls. Ben had the techs bring the covered body toward the rear of the sickbay, past the many bio-beds that were already beginning to fill with wounded.

  Nurses and techs briefly paused in their duties to observe the grim procession…one nurse let out a gasp when she saw Mara, and realized why the commander was here. Again, it seemed no one could accept the fact that someone like David Christenson could ever just stop being.

  They finally reached a lone bio-bed at the very end of sickbay, just past Ben’s office. As the techs transferred the body and sheet to the bed, the ODC gave off an announcing chime— Lieutenant Buttlefield’s voice rang out clearly, and there was obvious relief in it. “All decks, secure from general quarters.

  Repeat, all decks secure from general quarters. Alert status is over. Repeat, end alert status.” The ODC then clicked off, and Mara wiped away tears as she pondered what had happened.

  Did Travis and the others manage to somehow turn things around? It hardly seemed possible, given what desperate straits the fleet had been in…

  She started as she realized Ben was speaking to her. “I’m sorry, what—?” The techs had already left, and she hadn’t even noticed. Ben paused a moment, seeming to give her time to regain herself. “I said that I have to perform David’s autopsy.

  I’d like you to wait outside.”

  Mara’s brow furrowed. She shook her head. “No. No, I… no…”

  The doctor exhaled lightly. He gently placed his hands on her shoulders, holding her at arm’s length as he said, “Sweetheart, you don’t want to be here for this. Even though it’s not like the primitive days of the Old 20th, where I’d have to open your husband up, it’s still unsettling to have to hear the details of a coroner’s report. I don’t want to have to put you through that.”

  Mara swiped at her tears and nodded. “I understand, Ben.

  But I still just can’t accept it…not like this. Not now. Maybe… maybe hearing it will make it more real for me. I—” She paused as something caught her attention out the corner of her eye.

  She turned to see Lieutenant-Commander Rand standing a few feet away, staring at the sheet covering David’s body. The look on his face was one of utter numbness and shock, which she understood all too well. She went to him, and before she knew it, she was resting his head upon her shoulder as David’s young friend broke down, crying openly. With a light sigh, she realized that by comforting this good man, she had found a purpose to be strong again. It had given her a bit of her will back, offering him solace and closeness of a friend’s touch.

  They stood there together for quite a while, each held upright by the other, mourning for one of the best men either of them had ever known…

 
; Chapter 39

  Travis told Mara that he had informed UEF Command of David’s death, and so the Horizon had been ordered to return to Earth, and she was to report to Command Compound One for immediate debriefing. She asked him about the conclusion of the battle with the Calvorians, and he told her about the maneuver he had carried out to save the fleet. Mara was both astonished and highly impressed. She congratulated him on the exemplary manner in which he comported himself during the crisis, then put him in charge of seeing the ship safely back to Earth.

  Mara headed to the quarters she and her husband once shared (would she ever get used to such phrasing, she wondered), and fell apart as soon as the door closed behind her.

  She dropped to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably, unable to rise to at least take a seat at the desk or move to the bed. After nearly a minute, she pushed herself off the floor and stumbled toward the bed. She fell upon it and moved to the left side… David’s side. She grasped his pillow and sniffed it, deeply taking in his well-groomed scent. She curled into a ball, clutching the pillow to her as tightly as she could, breathing it in while the image of the covered sheet lying in the back of sickbay forced itself to the forefront of her mind. The ODC chimed, and Rand’s voice called to her. “Commander—?”

  “Y-yes…?” she said, and was shamed that she couldn’t control her sobbing long enough to answer him in a more firm tone.

  There was a pause from the ODC. When Rand finally answered, it was with some awkwardness and obvious embarrassment. “Uh…we’ve reached Earth. I’ve got a…a transport prepped for you in the launch bay.”

  Mara fought to control herself. “Okay. I’ll be down in five minutes,” she managed to finally blurt out. Without further acknowledgment, Rand shut off the ODC.

  It was actually ten minutes before Mara was able to gather herself together and head to the launch bay. She had washed her face and adjusted what little eyeliner she wore so that she would no longer look like a semi-rabid raccoon. When she entered, she saw a young corporal waiting for her next to the open doors of a transport. He saluted the commander and she returned. The corporal began to introduce himself but Mara paid him no heed; she walked past him as if he wasn’t even there, and plopped herself down into one of the first row passenger chairs. The corporal quietly entered the transport, closed the doors and went through the routine pre-flight check.

  Once he received clearance from the flight deck, he guided the transport through the launch doors and headed for Earth.

  Command Compound One was the primary meeting office for the Joint Chiefs of Staff. It occupied the space where the White House once stood, before orbital bombardments from the Calvorians destroyed it. It was a well-shielded installation, as it was actually buried some five miles beneath the surface.

  The shuttle entered through one of the surface docking ports and settled on one of the platforms on level one, which was nearest the actual surface. Mara was cleared through security immediately, and took a lift four more levels down. Once there, she was greeted by an attaché, who led her to a set of large double doors with the seal of the United Earth Force on them.

  The attaché knocked and was cleared for entry. He opened the doors and she stepped inside.

  “Commander Christenson,” a thickly built black male said as he stood behind a great, semi-circular curving oak desk. He walked around to meet her, extending his hand as he did so.

  “I’m General McKay, Chief of Planetary Security.”

  Mara reached out and accepted the hand, shaking it only

  briefly. “Hello, General. It’s nice to meet you,” she said numbly.

  General McKay regarded her silently a moment, then nodded in a type of empathy. “Please, please…have a seat,” he offered as he gestured to a visitor’s chair opposite his own. The room itself was in half-light, and done in muted pastels and other earth-toned colors. Mara sat as instructed, and McKay reclaimed his own seat. “First of all, I’m extremely sorry for your loss. I’ve never met Captain Christenson, but I’ve spoken to him once or twice. He was an exceptional captain, and from what I’ve heard, one hell of a man. We’re not likely to see his kind again.”

  Mara nodded, fighting back tears. “No. No, we’re not,” she said tightly.

  McKay exhaled lightly. “I’m sorry to have to bring you down here so quickly for debriefing. It’s just that with the narrow victory we just pulled off, there’s a sense of urgency among the Joint Chiefs that we have to mobilize our forces quickly and get the ships from your division back into battle ASAP, while the Calvorians’ morale is more than likely somewhat lowered.”

  “I understand, sir.”

  McKay tabbed a panel on the desk. Behind him, the great long wall turned into a holographic projection screen, showing a faraway shot of Jupiter. The fleet was barely visible, but it was obvious they were beginning to carry out the maneuver that had saved them. McKay half-turned back to Mara. “This maneuver you carried out…it was incredible! I understand that at this point in time, Captain Christenson was…incapacitated… but we were wondering how you came up with it and—”

  “I didn’t do it.”

  McKay’s brow furrowed and he looked at her in puzzlement.

  “I’m sorry—?”

  Mara shook her head. “It wasn’t me. I was incapacitated as well. All my attention was focused on my husband, as he was being examined by our ship’s doctor. The maneuver there, the one which saved the fleet, was devised and executed solely by our helmsman.”

  McKay stared at her a moment, processing what she had just said, then looked back at the screen as the image replayed

  itself. He then turned to her fully. “And who is this helmsman?”

  “His name is Rand. Lieutenant-Commander Travis Rand.”

  McKay glanced away, his brow furrowing as he tried to remember if he’d heard the name before. He quickly worked the touchpad on the desk, and the holographic image disappeared, replaced by Rand’s photo and service record.

  McKay scanned it quickly and pointed at the image. “That Travis Rand? The one from Outpost 339? The Calvorian incident?”

  Mara nodded. “The same.”

  “Really…” McKay said thoughtfully. He then turned to Mara

  once more. “Tell me about him.”

  Once the debriefing finished, General McKay informed Mara that he would probably have some more questions for her, and offered her quarters within the command compound.

  She accepted, both gladdened and disheartened that she wouldn’t have to sleep in the bed her husband no longer occupied. Once settled in to the small, grey room, she contacted the Horizon and asked that Ben Williams travel to the compound, as McKay had informed her the doctor would need to be debriefed as well. To Rand’s surprise, she placed him in charge of the ship, with the order to remain in orbit and oversee whatever repairs could be done freespace until she and Ben returned.

  When Ben arrived, he and Mara underwent another debriefing with General McKay. This one was more formal

  than the one she had earlier, and McKay asked more official questions as to the nature of the overall mission to keep the Calvorian fleet at bay and some questions about how David had died. Ben then underwent a private medical debriefing with some other high-ranking officers, while Mara was allowed to go back to her room. She knew she couldn’t have possibly used up all her grief and tears, yet she found herself unable to cry. Still in full uniform, she fell asleep instead, and had no dreams that she would later remember.

  Around nine in the evening, she was awakened by the door chime. She got up and called out to whomever was on the other side to come in. It was Ben. She went to him and they shared a brief, comforting hug. As she pulled away, she swiped at the sleep in her eyes and asked for the first time since she’d seen him, “How’s David?”

  “He’s in a stasis unit aboard the ship, being preserved until

  his funeral.”