by Grover Young
He nodded. The Wolf Pack was currently at the beach-house they had leased. Careful and gentle questioning revealed that another six of them 'slept', still too hurt to wake. The others were in deeper comas. It was going to take time to work out how best to help them, and if that was impossible, how to lay them to rest.
Maybe others would get a power-trip from having nearly a dozen beautiful super-powered slaves, but it only made him a little sick. He was always polite and treated them like people or members in the team when necessary. In truth, there was just one woman on his mind.
Grey found himself just looking at her again, finding his contentment in hers. The world had been saved and the good guys had done more than just break even. Perhaps more important than anything else, they had saved each other. As the sun slipped below the horizon, Lapis Lazuli's eyes found his, and soon enough, their lips meet. Smiling and holding hands, for now, that was enough.
In a universe far, far away...
It is said that nothing is truly original. That everything is only a cycle that repeats endlessly. What seems new is only a variation of what has gone before. Other universes, other versions of ourselves going and on and on forever, just like one of those infinity mirrors.
I let out a tense breath, staring at myself in the mirror, but the image didn't change. There was this golden seven foot tall woman in a blue Army Service Uniform, wearing a Silver Star on a ribbon around her neck.
That was me. Somehow, instead of being court-martialed and buried in a cell under Ft. Leavenworth, Kansas, they had given me a medal for valor. Well, that is along with kicking me out of the military as fast as they could without making it look like that was what they were doing.
Yeah, I'd pissed off a few people.
However, Hammer Hobbs wasn't one of them.
“Hell, Soldier,” he'd shook my hand, “you should've gotten the Medal of Honor and enough salad on your chest to make all those glory hounds green with jealousy. Doing the right thing when it needs to be done takes a lot more guts than any of them ever dreamt of having. You ended this damn war and gave us a treaty by default by retrieving the deed to our piece of dirt.” The General stomped his foot on the polished floor.
“You did good, damned good. When you're ready for a job, come see me,” he gave me his card and then walked to congratulate the next honor recipient.
“Yes, you did,” Sheila smiled up at me, “and you didn't upset or offend a single VIP.”
She was also in uniform, since the whole lintel unit got an award, a Joint Meritorious Unit Award, no less, as well as individual citations.
“Even I think twice about opening my mouth when the POTUS is putting a ribbon around my neck,” I replied. We'd been told to stick around for more public relations stuff, but honestly we both had already been cashiered.
Dean had avoided getting splashed by any crap from my insubordinate behavior. Sheila, my love, was, unfortunately, just as outspoken as me. Her remarks about how the Pantheon boarding parties, with the exception of me, had been all awarded higher honors were blunt and to the point.
Being diplomatic for once, I kept my mouth shut that technically, I was receiving no credit at all for my part in that action. The Silver Star was for Asheville and a snowy New Years Eve I'll never ever forget.
If I needed any validation for what I did on Valentines, it was my name on the deed to planet Earth, right under where I passed it over to the UN Secretary General. Given the materials the Sha'leians use, my name will be there as long that document exists, which will be a long, long time. You can bet that, as important as it is, great care is being used to make damn sure nothing happens to it.
I also got a grin out of being a starship captain, if only for few hours, before I passed it on to this Navy commander. No doubt he didn't hold onto it for long either, but it's the thought that counts.
“So what now?” I asked her, raising a brow.
“Why don't we abandon this party,” she smiled, mischievously.
“Now you're talking,” grinning, I offered my arm in the finest chivalrous fashion, “and then?”
“I was hoping you would have something in mind,” Sheila's eyes positively glowed with a secret.
“You mean something like changing these monkey suits into something more fun?” Yeah, they'd tried to take my Skins, Q-box and the other gifts Tash, Ralt and Kzon had given me. The bastards even tried to make me sign a nondisclosure agreement that would, in effect, make me guilty of treason if I ever transformed into Halcyon again.
Doc Schneider stepped on that quick. Just because I was leaving the Army didn't mean a damn thing to him. Once a child of Prometheus, always a … you get the rest. He wasn't about to let one of his favorite test subjects be kept from him. That also went without saying that he wanted to see the long term consequences of what being a child of Prometheus truly were.
My Sha'leian tablet problem was much the same. Since it was keyed to me, taking it away meant everyone else would be deprived of the treasures hidden in its drives as well as me. Petty isn't it?
The issue that really polarized things was my Skins. The Special Forces community tends to be a very proud one. Like with the Green Berets' head gear, the garment itself was seen as a symbol, an award of achievement. While I had those who were not fans, they knew damned well I'd walked willingly into the fire. To see those lines crossed because of political pressure, well, let's say it rubbed the fur the wrong way and leave it at that. It was enough to convince the party involved to reconsider their position.
My Q-box 'Button' was disabled which of course didn't mean anything since I'd learned how to change without it. That addressed the stated reason however, their response was to downgrade the award I'd been put in for as much as they dared without insulting everyone else.
Talos and Bes, two of my biggest not-fans, even they objected to the snub. Athena just shook her head and rolled her eyes.
“Will you 'please' keep her out of trouble?” The Prometheus Team Leader asked, her newly awarded Distinguished Service Cross about her neck. It was the second highest medal for valor possible just below the Medal of Honor, and she'd more than earned it.
“I have a plan,” Sheila replied, as she held up her very small purse which was all that was allowed by uniform regulations.
I kinda did the classic double take when I saw she had two of them.
Athena fought to hold in her laugh when Sheila handed me one of them.
“You 'are' in a woman's uniform,” my lover smirked, “This is an approved accessory.”
Of course, I had everything I needed in a very slim wallet that my programmed Skins could hide nearly invisibly. Women's Dress Blues or not, I did 'not' need a purse. I was still complaining about why the change from the old Class A Green uniform, much less about carrying a … purse.
Sighing, I gave in to the inevitable. If I didn't want to cause a scene, I had to give in to their fiendish plot. I had a feeling Athena was a contributing part of this conspiracy. Someone after all, had to hold onto those purses while Sheila was receiving her award.
I took that purse as it contained the most unstable explosive imaginable.
Here we were in the most rarefied VIP environment imaginable. Heroes from across the country were being honored. The Pantheon teams that boarded the Sha'leian ship to an Army private who'd taken on a command tank and its escorts after his platoon had been shot to pieces. He'd won, at the cost of being seriously wounded.
In the middle of all of those dignitaries, Athena, child of Prometheus and senior Pantheon Team Leader, was turning shades of red trying to hold in her laughter. I know my golden face was burning copper red, but just to make things worse Sheila had this evil smile that meant the worst was yet to come.
“Well, aren't you going to check inside?” she asked, turning my blood cold with apprehension.
Nott and Artemis had wandered over which wasn't helping my nerves at all.
“Can't we just wait on this part till we're alone?” I begged,
sensing doom and despair.
The ring of women about me silently declared a very clear, “No.”
“Is this the same woman who charged into legions of alien robots, risking court-martialing as she single handed ended a war?” Athena drily commented.
Sighing, I opened the purse. Inside was a pair of tubes. One was a tube of lipstick, while the other tube was a paper wrapped, feminine hygiene product. Maybe this stuff was new to me, but I'd been a victim of TV ads just like everyone else. I knew what they were.
I couldn't say the same about the four small pieces of blue metallic cloth. They had strings of the same material attached to the triangular shaped parts. Partially pulling them out to try and get a better look, I really didn't want to reveal whatever Sheila's little joke was to the whole awards reception.
Athena finally lost it and began giggling. The other ladies soon followed at about the same time I figured out two of the smaller triangles were attached together by those strings almost like …
“Mep!” I squeaked, as I stuffed 'it' back out of sight, my face shining even a brighter copper.
“If we're going to the beach, you're going to need … swimwear,” Sheila's eyes danced in merriment.
“Beach?” I tried not to squeak again while sneaking a look around us. I just knew we were making a scene at this solemn occasion, “There's still ice on the ground even at Daytona Beach.”
“Look in your purse,” she giggled, enjoying my discomfort way too much.
Glaring at her, I opened that diabolical handbag, despite knowing better. I just couldn't contain my curiosity. Looking past all those other things, there were two stiff pieces of paper.
The girls were peering around me, since at seven feet, damned few are looking over my shoulders.
I read the plane tickets' destination.
“Rio De Janeiro?” Nott read aloud in disbelief, “You're going to Rio!”
Suddenly, I felt like a mouse surrounded by a covey of very hungry cats. These women were combat hardened vets, but each and every one was green with envy and jealousy. A glance told me that no few of the assemblage of guys felt the same. After months of constant ice and snow, the very thought of sunshine and warm sands was as addictive as any narcotic.
With this Impact Winter that our now thankfully departed guests had caused, just about the only places on the planet that had decent weather were the tropics. Even before the War, Rio had been one of the prime beach locations in the world. Now, afterward, it was the dream vacation spot for most the world. Sure, there were other tropical getaways that had not been too badly touched by the invasion, but they weren't Rio.
“How?' I asked, knowing that, with it being such a prime destination, trips to Rio were not cheap and getting approved visas was like winning the lottery.
“Let's just say while finding someone to make your locket, I found a business opportunity,” Sheila smiled, “You would be amazed at how lucrative the orichalcum scrap business could be.”
Considering the thousands of wrecked bots and drones from the invasion and how hard the stuff was to work, if someone had seriously figured out how to recycle the stuff into something more useful than just shrapnel for missiles, then she could indeed be talking about a lot of money.
On the other hand, it wasn't as if I was a pauper either. As one of the holders of a complete copy of the internet, I'd been contacted by any number of companies and corporations. Let's just say that I was not charging for the data, but instead for my time. I also had the thought that, now that we had access to the Sha'leian computer technology via their ship that meant we also could access all those thousands of robotic brains that'd previously been locked out to us. Just maybe Sheila didn't know just how profitable the salvage business could be!
However, first things first, a bikini? An itsty-bitsy, teenie-weenie bikini? Well, at least it didn't have yellow or any other kinds of polka dots. It did about perfectly match Halcyon's blue sapphire hair which meant my love had put some thought into this.
“Sure,” Athena explained to the gathered ladies, “all you have to do is disobey orders and stop a war, but make the terms so damn sweet the civilian authorities can't possibly refute it without being lynched.
“However,” She added, “that doesn't mean they won't lean on the military side of the house and get you kicked out with as little fanfare as possible, which also means while the rest of us are still serving, they get to go flying off to Rio. See? Easy!”
I found myself blushing again, but while she did have a point, I was thinking back to Halloween where I first meet Tash. Honestly, I didn't expect Humanity to survive the winter, but not only had we made it to Easter, but some damn how we'd won the War.
We would see another Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas. There would be other New Years to celebrate and Valentines to be given to the woman I loved for all that she dearly enjoyed embarrassing me.
As I had more than once, since I'd seen their saucer disappear into the 'Black', I wished my Sha'leian friends fair 'winds' on their journey. It was almost a certainty they wouldn't have attempted their invasion unless their situation hadn't been grim. Fate laughed at both of our species by ensuring that we couldn't meet as friends, and it was virtually a sure thing that if we meet again there would be conflict. Far too much blood had been shed, and humanity had proved time and time again that mankind doesn't forget such things.
However, the world and life went on. We had plane tickets to Rio, and all I had to do was wear a skimpy swimsuit and spend Easter on the beach. Besides, if past experience was a clue, Sheila would make it more than worth it.
Well, this ceremony had been nothing like the throne-room scene in Star Wars anyways. I held my arm out for Sheila.
“I think I hear a beach calling our names.” Smiling, I tried not to think about the state of undress it would require, “Shall we?”
“Yes,” she replied regally, “Let's!”
If I heard John Williams’ throne-room theme playing within the privacy of my mind as we left, well, we'd earned it the hard damn way.
I'd heard that the best revenge wasn't served cold. It was living well despite ones' enemies. I decided that perhaps it also honored all those who given so much, including that final sacrifice. Being well, happy, made what they, what we'd all fought for, worth it.
Arm in arm with the woman I loved, we walked out of that company of heroes. For all of those who'd fallen and who never got the chance to live in the peace they had fought for, we had a lot of living to do.
The End.