Victors

by T. R. Cameron

  After an eternity of waiting, his breath returned, and he sat up in a daze. It was as if the room around him was frozen in a tableau. The former emperor lay spread out like a blanket on the other half of the arena, his arms outstretched and his body unmoving. Kate stood with her arm extended, and a strange alien weapon in her hand pointing at his opponent. Beside her was one of the winged aliens, the flunky, who accelerated into motion as Cross’s senses caught up to the moment. He reached a nearby column and did something that caused the fence to vanish. Cross had enough time to think that passing out twice in the same day couldn’t be good for him before did just that.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Cross emerged from the darkness slowly, forcing his sticky eyes open. He blinked them clear to discover a bevy of aliens surrounding him and attending to his wounds. Already his arm was in some sort of strange immobilizing cast that pulsed where it encircled the shattered bone. He tried to sit up, and a flurry of hands pressed against his bruises to hold him down. He opened his mouth in a wordless complaint.

  One of the hands was Kate’s.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “You won.”

  “Winning hurts.”

  “Usually does,” she agreed.

  In response to his continued efforts to rise, someone behind him adjusted the chair to a slightly more vertical position. The new vantage allowed him to survey the room. Several meters away, Indraat was sliding her arms back into the sleeves of her leather, and the medical aliens supported her as she stood on wobbly legs. All the alien flesh that would’ve been exposed by the move was wrapped in bandages. Across the way, the former emperor lay on the sapphire stone, a crowd of feathered beings treating his wounds as well.

  “He’s alive?”

  Kate followed his eyes. “Yes, although technically he did die. It was the absence of his vital signs that dropped the fence, so we could get to you. It took them a bit, but they managed to bring him back.

  “The former emperor is not going to be very happy when he wakes up.”

  She laughed. “I doubt happy is an operative word for either of our species right at the moment.”

  He gave her a suspicious glare as he remembered. “You knew she was coming, and you didn’t tell me.”

  Kate shrugged. “How could I? We were monitored the entire time. Or did you think the earpieces were only translators?”

  Cross blinked and didn’t admit he’d done exactly that.

  “How?” he demanded.

  She lowered herself to sit on the arm of his chair, pushing his unwounded limb aside. “Shortly after we landed, so did the Ruby Rain. She came out alone, with her hands carefully away from her weapons, and we talked.”

  “I would’ve punched her,” Cross said, “right in the face.”

  Exasperation filled her expression. “Then I guess it’s good you were unconscious at the time, caveman,” she replied. “She told me what would likely happen and promised to arrive as soon as possible. If you hadn’t challenged and caused a delay, I would’ve had to do something. How did you know to do that, anyway?”

  He raised a hand to rub his face, and a medic caught it. He offered a nod of thanks as he recalled the damage from the fight. “It was weird. For some reason I couldn’t get her out of my mind. I was hoping I could at least clock her one before it was over. I remembered the tales of the colonists about the red-armored alien who gave them a chance. Remember, we heard that a couple of times, and apparently it was enough to make it stick.”

  Kate nodded, and her eyes showed she was remembering the stories too.

  “So,” he fumbled, “that’s it, then? Are we safe?”

  “The jury’s still out,” Kate said, and rose to face the center of the room. The beings surrounding him, assisted Cross to stand as well. When his legs threatened to give out, they gave him some extra support. The guards and the extravagantly clothed aliens who’d been witnesses to the events of the day were silent as Indraat limped to the staircase.

  “So, what I said earlier—” Cross began.

  “Looks more like months and years than days and minutes,” Kate replied. “You still in? Because this is probably your last chance to not be.” She kept her eyes away from him in real or feigned nonchalance.

  “Whatever happens, I’m in, all the way.” He reached for her hand with his functional arm.

  Indraat sat down on the second stair, looking pale. The former emperor’s seneschal moved to stand next to her.

  Cross frowned, remembering something else. In a murmur, he asked, “Did you shoot birdface over there?”

  “I did. It was lovely.”

  “Where did you get the gun?”

  “From the alien standing beside Indraat.” She nodded to indicate who she meant.

  “Really? The flunky?”

  “Much more than a flunky. Turns out, he’s the one who started all this by revealing the secret plan to destroy the fortresses to Indraat.”

  Cross shook his head. There were too many moving pieces to keep track of. He focused instead on the feel of Kate’s hand in his own.

  Indraat gestured, and the man beside her spoke. “Fleet-Captain Indraat Vray declares an end to the war between the Xroeshyn and the humans. Already a truce has been declared above, and each of our forces has moved out of engagement range. Spread the word to your castes, the humans were not the enemy promised in the Dhadas. Our former emperor and hierarch fell too deeply into his commitment to the gods and has been afflicted with madness as a result. He will be cared for in a manner befitting his status.”

  “Locking him up for a century or so would be fitting,” Cross murmured.

  The man spoke again, “Also, carry the word that the mantle of emperor has passed to the most appropriate member of the Kraada line, the daughter of the former emperor’s sister, first of her name, Empress Indraat Vray.”

  “The King is a raving lunatic. Long live the Queen,” Kate quipped in a whisper. Matthews snorted, and Cross grinned.

  The empress’s seneschal, presumably, beckoned, and the palace guards escorted the humans forward to the base of the stairs. From where she sat, the Indraat’s gaze was just above their eye level. She looked at Kate.

  “Commander Flynn, I thank you for your assistance. Without our two species working in tandem, my uncle’s madness would’ve won the day. I shudder to imagine the consequences for both of our people.” She made a gesture, and an attendant brought forth a blade with an ornate guard. “This dagger is called Peace and seems a fitting gift to mark this first moment of our cooperation. You’ve earned the gratitude of the Xroeshyn people, Commander Kathleen Margaret Flynn.”

  Kate released his hand to accept the case, and stood with a proud, yet stunned, expression. Cross was suffused with warmth and pride at her success, well aware of the work she’d put in again and again to earn it.

  “And Captain Cross,” Indraat said, and a growl entered her tone. “You’ve been a useful piece of today’s strategy, and for that, the Xroeshyn people thank you.” She pushed herself to her feet to tower above him and pointed. “However, I once told you that I would be the one to destroy you and the antique you commanded. While I can no longer deliver on the latter part of my vow, given that your ship is now a smoldering wreck, the first is still an option. My promise stands. Should you ever appear in my sight again, I shall send you to join your ancestors in the in-between. For now, get out of my empire. Chanii will see to the details.” She turned and departed, guided by the helping hands of her guards.

  Cross opened his mouth to reply, then caught the vicious glare Kate was sending him and closed it.

  See? Even I can learn, he thought.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  One month later.

  The ceremony was being held at the most appropriate location possible: near a glassed-over area of sand in the Nevada desert that had once been a military installation. On that spot, humans shook their fists at the veritable gods above and gave all they had to protect their fell
ows.

  One day, there would no doubt be monuments and celebrations and a display of records and artifacts from the war with the Xroeshyn here. Today, though, there were only soldiers, sailors, and Marines gathered under canopies to block the blazing sun above.

  On the stage at the front of the assembly, Admiral Martin Wilder stepped up to the microphone. To Cross, he looked older and more brittle, as if the war had aged him at an exponential speed.

  Inside, he felt as if it had prematurely aged him, too.

  “People of Earth,” he said for the benefits of the camera drones hovering nearby, “enlisted personnel, and officers. We’re here together for several reasons. First, we gather in remembrance.”

  Wilder doffed his hat and handed it to an aide. As he turned back, the audience removed their own headgear and tucked them away in the manner appropriate to their service. He acknowledged their actions with an approving nod. “Today, we pause to remember those who died to secure the peace we now enjoy. From the oldest admiral, to the youngest ensign, the gunnery sergeant to the michman,” he nodded at the nearest officer from the AAN, “and all the colonists who were lost in the fight. Their sacrifices will be remembered in the retelling for centuries to come as our children learn of the dangers that await us as we explore the universe.”

  His tone changed, becoming more aggressive. “And make no mistake, we will continue to expand. That’s our second purpose here today—we gather to reinforce that commitment to our future. Humanity will travel among the stars, and do so with an open hand of friendship, ready to live and let live with any species we discover on our path. Be they more advanced than us, or still stranded on the rock that’s their home.” He raised an arm to gesture broadly.

  “There’s no telling what we may encounter, but that won’t stop us from searching. Discovery is in our souls. It’s part of what it means to be human. The continent on which we now stand was discovered and rediscovered by people driven by that desire to learn, to know. Like us, they made mistakes, some of them catastrophic. Chief among them was the belief that their way was the true way, the only way.” He dropped his hand again, and his voice turned softer. “We learned that lesson, finally, against the Xroeshyn. Humanity must always hold true to our values, but also must be aware that others’ beliefs are just as vital to them as ours are to us. We will strive always to find a way to meet in the middle.”

  Wilder’s voice rose, and a grin broke out on his face. “And last, today we gather for one last reason: to celebrate the heroic actions of our military personnel.”

  Each of the services was called to the stage in order, and commendations were given, promotions were awarded, and a veritable fortune in precious metals and gemstones was pinned to uniforms. Eventually the standard awards had been taken care of, and a hush of anticipation flowed over those assembled.

  Admiral Margaret Flynn stepped to the podium. “I call Commanders Claire Martin and Kate Flynn to the stage.” The two departed from where they sat on his right and ascended to exchange hugs with Kate’s mother. She returned to the microphone and said, “First, promotions. Commander Claire Martin, I hereby promote you to Captain.” Claire stepped forward to applause from the crowd and received her new insignia.

  “Commander Kate Flynn, you’re hereby promoted to Captain as well.” The scene repeated itself as Kate advanced and her mother pinned her new rank to her uniform. With a nod and a beautiful smile, Kate withdrew. “Further, after oh-so-much discussion,” she turned and threw a glare in the direction of her fellow admirals, “it has been decided that the Phoebe and the Pandora shall be incorporated into the exploration division, as they possess the best chance of dealing with whatever we find out there. Captains Martin and Flynn will remain in command of those vessels.” The applause was overwhelming. Everyone knew what Claire and Kate had accomplished during the war, and aside from a few jealous officers, everyone knew this was a perfectly appropriate decision.

  “Captains, you’re dismissed.”

  Admiral Flynn was replaced by Ceridwen Tomos, Commandant of the Marine Corps. “Two Squads of Marines were called to special duty in the final battle. They were ordered to board the enemy’s most powerful weapons platforms and take them or deny their use to the Xroeshyn emperor. That insane being planned to detonate them as part of a plan that would have resulted in the destruction of every ship in the sector. Sadly, those from the Cancun sacrificed their lives aboard one of the fortresses, and they’ll be remembered in a separate ceremony. The Marines assigned to the Washington, DC also suffered grievous losses. I call the surviving members of that unit to the stage.”

  Easy walked with canes, her legs locked in braces as they recovered from the brutal abuse she’d taken during the battle. The rest of the squad was polished and appeared pristine. Cross knew, though, that if he could see beneath the formal exterior, he’d find them battling the same ghosts that haunted them all.

  The commandant awarded promotions and medals to Easy, Surfer, Flame, and GeeWhiz, speaking to each for a moment before moving on to the next. Then she called the two gunnery sergeants forward. The commandant greeted each with a handshake, then turned back to the audience with a laugh. “Once again, both Gunnery Sergeant Rhys St. John and Gunnery Sergeant Cynthia Murphy have refused our entreaties to enter the Academy to earn their commissions. Nonetheless, we wish to recognize their unparalleled service in the leadership of their squads throughout the war.”

  An aide stepped to her side and opened two small boxes. A rendering of the Earth lay within each, carved of precious metals that shone in the afternoon light. It was backed with a many-pointed sun in gold. “The Earthstar is given only to those Marines whose accomplishments are so far beyond the ordinary that nothing else will do. Gunnery sergeants, step forward.” They obeyed her orders, and Tomos pinned the device over each of their hearts.

  The commandant returned to the podium and broke into a grin. “You may be able to prevent me from commissioning you, Marines, but you cannot stop me from promoting you. Cynthia Murphy and Rhys St. John are each hereby awarded the rank of Master Gunnery Sergeant. She turned and saluted them, then said, “Dismissed.”

  Before leaving, Commandant Tomos flashed a smile at the audience. “It may amuse you to know that with this commendation comes the recipients’ choice of postings. They’ve selected the Marine Raider Training Center as their next posting. I think graduating to SOC just got much, much harder.” Her words were met with a wave of laughter across the crowd, and she stepped away.

  Admiral James Okoye replaced her at the podium. “I call Captain Anderson Cross to the stage.”

  He stood, straightened his all-white dress uniform, then marched forward. He had no idea what was to come, and truly couldn’t care much less than he did. The battle was won. Peace reigned. He would ship out as an ensign on the Pandora if he had to in order to stay with Kate. For him, it was all good.

  He strode toward his mentor, who moved away from his rostrum and gripped Cross’s hand warmly, giving his bicep a squeeze of approval with his other hand. He stepped back into place and addressed the gathered crowd.

  “There isn’t much to say about the exploits of Captain Cross. From the moment he took command of the Washington, DC, that ship was in the thick of things. She acquitted herself extremely well, right up until her captain crashed her into the soil of the Xroeshyn home world.”

  Cross felt his ears start to burn as laughter swept the assembly. Then he, too, was forced to chuckle and shake his head at the events of the past two years.

  Okoye smiled and played to his audience’s mirth. “But that wasn’t enough for our esteemed Captain Cross. No, he felt the need to instigate a fist fight with the Xroeshyn emperor. Captain Cross’s actions prove that he’s every bit as annoying to other species’ leaders as he is to ours.” Again, good-natured laughter rang out around him.

  “The only option, it seems, is to present him with a number of medals that recognize his actions during the events of the war.” He waved, an
d an aide delivered a small stack of closed boxes to Cross.

  “One more thing,” Okoye said. He gestured again, and large images appeared on flat sections of the stage behind him. They showed the skeleton of a starship. “On these screens, you see the first of our new Aries class of starships. She masses at about the midpoint between a cruiser and the carrier. She will become the backbone of our fleet. It incorporates principles of design and technologies adapted from the Domeki vessels we’ve acquired.” Everyone took a moment to admire the images.

  “Of course, most of her is still the product of human ingenuity and development, make no mistake. She will be christened the Washington, DC, UAL 2112-B. Captain Cross,” he said, turning, “until the ship is completed, you are ordered to attend to all the details of her construction. When she’s finished, you’ll command her.”

  Cross broke into a wide grin, amazed that everyone had kept this a secret from him and overwhelmed at the confidence being placed in him. Finally, finally, he felt like he’d earned the position of Starship Captain.

  Under another canopy, military personnel gathered in twos and threes around high tables loaded with plates and beverages from the nearby buffet. Cross and Kate were together, but talking to other people, Cross to the newly promoted Admiral Dima Petryaev, and Kate to the former chief engineer of the Washington. Dima clapped him on the shoulder in a farewell, and Cross turned to join the other conversation.

  “But you’re going to go to the colony, right?” Kate asked.

  Jannik nodded. “Spent part of the last month there. Everything is set. Once I finish making sure the DC-B is properly built, I’ll be heading there for good.”

  “How’s she coming along, Chief?” Cross asked, trying and failing to control his interest in the new ship.