by Neal Jones
"You know it isn't."
"No! Absolutely not!" Gabriel slammed his mug on the desk and stood, pacing to the other side of the room.
Hazen stood as well and reached for a napkin to mop up the coffee which had splashed over the cup's rim. "You don't have a choice, Marc. You re-upped last year for another five. If you renege now, you'll be spending those remaining four in a detention cell on Mars."
"I'd rather face a court-martial than take command of that fucking station!" It was said quietly and firmly, but the rage in his tone startled Hazen. This was clearly a wound which was far from healed.
"Marc. Look at me."
Gabriel obeyed. The fury in his eyes cast a deep shadow over his face. His jaw was set, his hands clenched into fists. "Did you put my name in for this?"
"No. In fact, I fought this with every resource available. I called in at least a dozen favors, but the decision stands. Rumor has it that Parliament played a part in all this. Your father apparently had several connections among several senators, there was pressure on Fleet Admiral Piller to bump your name to the top of the list. The fact that Robert made two speeches on the senate floor and was awarded the Tiberius made a big impact."
"My father was for the war!" Gabriel snapped. "He despised the Chrisarii as much as anyone else! Why the hell would Parliament think that I would be fit to command Exxar-One??"
"I don't know."
Gabriel hurled the pad across the room, and it skittered into a corner near the latrine entrance. He turned away from Hazen and paced some more. The admiral sat and nursed his coffee, deciding that it was better to just ride this out. Nothing he said at this point would matter anyway, but if truth be told, Hazen was genuinely curious himself as to why Marc had been selected to fill the position of Exxar-One's commanding officer. Surely it would have been more prudent to find someone who had not served on the front lines during the war. The captain had seen far more than his share of battlefields, had spilled enough Chrisarii blood to drown the landscape of his nightmares for the rest of his life, had memorized the names of every single comrade that had been cut down beneath the warrior's blade - so many, in fact, that if one asked for a recitation one would be listening for a long while. The truce which had ended the war had been celebrated as a victory by the politicians, by the senators in Parliament, and by all the major governments of the Federation. But those who donned the uniform and rank of a soldier, those who had fought so bitterly and sacrificed so much for every light year of enemy ground, had not been so jovial. A truce was not a victory. There was no honor in a stalemate. For Marc, his father's death was meaningless until the Chrisarii Alliance was in pieces, their home territory under complete control of the Federation. That had not happened yet.
For Marc, the war was not over.
And now he was being placed in command of a starbase that had been constructed as a means of further cementing Chrisarii/Federation ties. For this second war, it wasn't enough to declare a truce. Steps had to be taken to ensure that a third war did not break out, and the only solution which either government eventually accepted was a space station in the Tiralan Neutral Zone. The Tiralans themselves, at the urging of Ambassadors Vorik and Zar, had put forth this plan to the representatives at the La'Kattha Summit. It was three weeks before either side finally gave in and approved the project. Exxar-One would be crewed by both Chrisarii and Federation soldiers, and serve as a common ground from which to discuss differences, form new alliances, and make certain that a third conflict did not occur, at all costs. The lone fact which neither empire was willing to admit to the other was that they could not afford another galactic war. Not immediately anyways. But that was the whole point of Exxar-One. By the time another century passed, the two political powers would not be in the same place which they had been when the second war - the Beta Erendii conflict - broke out.
A hundred years from now, the Chrisarii would be members of the Interstellar Federation.
Two months ago, Exxar-One had officially been brought on line. Construction was complete, the champagne bottle had been smashed against the hull, and most of the personnel had reported for duty. Only a few senior officers had yet to report aboard, and one of them was Gabriel. But why him? Hazen turned the question over once more in his mind as he watched the captain silently fume, his back still turned to the admiral. Surely this was no coincidence. Someone in the chain of command, whether through coercion or willful choice, wanted Marcus Gabriel in the hot seat. There was a dozen other names which immediately came to mind, four women and eight men whom Hazen believed were just as qualified – if not more so – to command a starbase of Exxar-One's size and crew complement. Gabriel had only been promoted to captain four years ago. He had no experience running the daily operations of a standard military outpost, much less this one, which had been embroiled in controversy and political debate since its conception. Gabriel was not just assuming command of a starbase. He was overseeing the security of an entire sector.
"I assume that you and I and the brass at CMC are the only ones aware of these orders?"
Hazen had been so lost in thought that the sound of Gabriel's voice startled him. "Yes. That was partly why I couldn't transmit them to you over hyperspace, not even the secured channels." His coffee had cooled, and he rose to refill it.
Gabriel faced his superior officer, his godfather, and one of his closest friends. There was resignation in his countenance, but his eyes still smoldered with anger and bitterness. "You couldn't even get me three days of leave? My crew has just come off an eleven month survey mission. Granted, it was nothing arduous, but still, many of them have not been home in two years or more."
"I'm sorry, Marc. Like I said, I fought as hard as I could, but when you read the attached report you'll understand why. Hell, just turn on the news."
Gabriel shook his head as he picked up the compad. "There must be something more pressing than the usual bullshit. Exxar-One has been plagued by demonstrators and terrorist attacks from both sides since the first beam was welded to the first crossbar."
"Just read it," Hazen persisted. "The sooner you get out of my office, the more time you can have with your family. I'll be at the crossway tunnel to see you off at zero-eight-hundred tomorrow."
Gabriel stood in the middle of the room, staring down at the pad in his right hand. The look in his eyes was one that Hazen had often seen in the eyes of the officers and soldiers serving under him during the war. He had seen that look too many times in his own reflection as well.
Marc was remembering. He was being haunted once more. The bodies of fellow officers beneath the standard gray issue medical blankets. The way that blood would never completely come out of the standard issue gray carpet which covered most of the decks of an EarthCorps starship. The funeral services which lasted an entire watch because there were so many names to memorialize, so many anecdotes to share. New faces to replace the old, yet soon enough they would also be pale and still, eyes frozen open as blood congealed around the piece of shrapnel which was lodged in the forehead.
Hazen placed a hand on his godson's shoulder, gently pulling the captain back to the present with the soft squeeze of his fingers. "I'll do what I can to find out who's behind this. In the meantime, put in a transfer request. I'll see how far I can push it." He paused. "You've got four years left. If nothing else, retire after this assignment. Come back home and take care of your mother. You can have all the sunsets you want from your back porch, and I'll have some fresh steaks on the grill."
He smiled, but Gabriel didn't return sentiment. He merely nodded and then walked out the door. The admiral brought his mug to his lips, but then scowled and placed it in the reclamator. The java blend had left a sour taste in his mouth. He sat down behind his desk and stared at the paperwork which demanded his attention. It remained untouched for the rest of the afternoon.
( 3 )
Mariah Decev pushed the door closed with her foot and walked to the counter where she set the three bags of groceries.
Fresh produce peeked above the rims of the sacks, bushy green eyebrows and tomato eyes that were ready for washing and peeling. Samson, the cook, grinned as he finished slicing a large potato and tossed the chunks into the pot.
"You know how much Selena enjoys her trips to the market."
Selena was the Salingers' maid. Right now she was in the living room, cleaning and rearranging for the dinner party.
"I know, I know," Mariah replied, "but I needed the break more than she does."
Samson laughed just as the dining room door opened and Margaret Salinger entered the kitchen. "Oh, Mariah, there you are! I just got off the comm with Cooper Olson. You remember him, right? He's the general practitioner who always used to go golfing with your father. Well, his son, Todd, is in town for a few days and he's free tonight, so I –"
"Oh god, mom, no! Not this time! Just once, I'd like to come home and have you not tell me about the son of one of your friends who just happens to be in town for a few days –"
"Oh, sweetheart, don't be ridiculous. I didn't invite Todd to meet you! He's here to meet Beth. The divorce has been final for two years now, and it's time that your sister started socializing more. She's spent enough time wrapped up in her work. She needs to meet someone outside those academic halls."
Mariah grabbed the tomatoes and began to slice them while listening with only half an ear to her mother's prattle. Beth was three years older than Mariah, and held the chair of the Department of English at the University of Connecticut. She had met her ex-husband, Logan, during graduate school and, fifteen years later, discovered him in the Jacuzzi with one of his graduate students when she arrived home early from a conference. The divorce had been clean and mutual, with very little argument and almost no bloodshed. There was no children. Neither had wanted any, despite Margaret's endless and not-so-subtle hints that she desired granddaughters to spoil with shopping trips and tea parties in the garden. (Actual tea parties, mind you, with Selena serving the Earl Gray and butter cookies. And the shopping trips meant going to Apollo City on Mars.) Joshua, Mariah's son, had been born on the ECS Tolkien, only a year into her and Paul's first mission after graduating from the academy. Margaret and Julian didn't meet their first grandchild until he was three, something which her mother had never let Mariah forget.
Margaret and Julian had settled in Greenwich, Connecticut, to raise their four children. Besides Beth and Mariah, there was Brett and David. The sons had followed in their father's footsteps by choosing careers in the medical field. Both graduated from Harvard Medical with top honors, and David, the youngest, went on to specialize in Interspecies Medicine - with an emphasis in genetics and reproduction - while Brett established a successful family practice on one of the Tigon colonies in the Amaar sector. Julian Salinger was a renowned and talented interspecies neurosurgeon, carving a reputation for himself early on when he was accepted into the Itoro Mergg University, the Federation's premier medical school, located on Proxima Centauri. Millions applied every year, and only a few hundred were selected. Julian graduated tenth in his class and after forty-three years - the last thirty of which were spent as Chief of Neurosurgery at Johns Hopkins - he had announced his retirement. Tonight's dinner party was in his honor.
"Mariah, you're not listening."
"I am listening, mother. And I wish you all the luck with your latest matchmaking effort. Have we heard from David yet?"
Margaret shook her head as she snatched a chunk of tomato from the cutting board. "He'll call as soon as his shuttle lands. These are delicious! You got them from the market?"
"Yes. Is Josh still in his room?"
Margaret nodded as she watched Samson season the vegetables. Mariah gave a frustrated sigh as she washed her hands. Joshua had spent most of his vacation in his room, emerging only when his mother demanded it. Ever since Mariah had informed him of her new assignment to Exxar-One, her son resented her now even more than usual. When she opened the door, she found Josh laying on the bed, watching the HT, headphones fastened securely around his ears. She didn't waste time trying to get his attention. The viewscreen went off, the headphones were snatched away, and the curtains were yanked open.
"Get up!" Mariah commanded. She looked at the empty suitcase in one corner, and then at the clothes that were scattered around the room. "I told you to be packed by the time I got home."
Joshua shrugged. "I have all night." A stray lock of red hair fell across his forehead and he automatically brushed it back.
"No, you don't. You're going to be at your grandfather's party. And you're not staying up late. We leave tomorrow at oh-seven-thirty. Go downstairs and help Samson in the kitchen. When you're done there, you can help your grandmother and Selena set up the garden."
Joshua scowled before walking out of the room, slouching his shoulders because he knew his mother hated it when he wouldn't stand up straight. Mariah sighed and sank onto the end of the bed, absently picking up a couple shirts and a pair of shorts. She had considered giving him the choice of staying here with his grandparents or coming with her to Exxar-One, but decided after some thought that she would rather have him within her reach just now. She stood and tossed the clothes back onto the bed before leaving the room.
( 4 )
Jennifer Rosenberg gave a frustrated sigh as she threw the bundle of shirts on the bed. Several pairs of pants followed. As usual, it was up to her to do the last of the packing. The movers had been here yesterday to load up all the boxes and crates, and all that remained was to pack the clothes and a few personal items that she, Ben and Emalie would need during their trip to Exxar-One.
Ever since he had accepted the assignment as Chief Medical Officer, Jennifer had given her husband the silent treatment. Ben had promised her that his next assignment would be Earthside. He had been offered an instructor's position at the EarthCorps Naval Academy, in their medical division. It meant a promotion to commander and a nice pay raise, but even better, it meant that he and Jennifer would be able to be close to friends and family, which was important to Jennifer. She didn't want to raise Emalie on a colony or a starbase, much less a place like Exxar-One. The Academy was in Annapolis, which meant that Jennifer would be close to her older sister and two cousins. Not that physical distance between two points on a planetary surface mattered much these days. The cardon field allowed for instantaneous transport between distances of less than five million kilometers, so it didn't really matter where Jennifer and her husband were settled. She could visit her relatives anywhere on Earth in under three minutes.
Exxar-One, however, was five days from Earth at maximum stardrive for military ships, seven days for civilian transports. As far as Jennifer cared, it was on the other side of the known universe. She had three sisters and two brothers, all of whom had settled on Earth or Mars. Her brother, Lewis, was here in Titan City and he was the one that Jennifer would miss most.
"Hey, bugs, you here?"
That was him now. Jennifer zipped up the suitcase and carried it into the living room. Lewis was standing by the bay window, looking up at the fiery Martian sky. He turned his gaze to the room as his little sister appeared.
"I thought you were leaving the card table and chairs for the party."
She shook her head as she set the suitcase next to the other two at the entrance to the front porch. "I changed my mind. We're going out to dinner tonight. Nothing fancy. I was going to call you when I finished packing."
Lewis watched his sister, noting how pinched her face was, especially around her eyes. She folded her arms across her chest and held them tight. "I know everything isn't okay, but do you want to talk about it?"
Jennifer sighed and motioned to the back patio. "What's the point? Either I go with him or I don't. He's already made up his mind and there's no changing it."
She allowed her brother to precede her onto the deck, and they sat in two of the only three pieces of furniture that were left. The chairs were old, the wood faded and chipped. Jennifer saw no reason to haul them, or the rickety
table which sat between them, to a space station.
"I'm sorry, bugs," he said softly. He had called her that for as long as she could remember, and he always said it was because she had pestered him so much when they were little, while she was learning to walk. "He'll get shore leave, and he's got family here too. You both will be back at least once a year."
Jennifer scowled and picked idly at a chip of green paint on the arm of her chair. "It's not just the new assignment, and it's not necessarily the fact that we'll be living on a starbase, although I'm not happy about that either. It's this particular starbase that I'm concerned about."
Lewis nodded. Exxar-One was no place to raise a family. Emalie had just celebrated her fifth birthday six months earlier, and while she thought this move was a big adventure, she had been oblivious to the stress and tension that was surrounding her parents. It was out here on the patio that Ben had broken the news to his wife, two hours after Emalie's birthday party.
You know how long I've been waiting for a frontier assignment like this, he had said as she shoved the streamers and balloons into the trash bag.
And what about your promise to me? Jennifer replied. You said that you would try to get a posting Earthside, that you would look for something permanent.
I know, babe, but this is too good to pass up. It's only for three years, and then I'll take the instructor's position at EarthCorps Medical. Admiral Larsen says it will probably be a permanent one.
Yeah, that's all I ever hear, Ben, is 'probably' and 'maybe' and 'hopefully'. You had a frontier assignment when we lived on Lyden-four.
That was only for two years, and it wasn't the same. Exxar-One is different. You haven't given me a chance to explain what this opportunity means for me – for us.
Jennifer hadn't given him a chance that night, or the next, or the next one after that. They'd had one more "discussion" a month later, but she honestly couldn't understand the difference between this starbase and the one on the Lyden colony, aside from the fact that the former was a space station and the latter a planetary outpost. She sighed as she watched the Chavez twins playing in the pool in their backyard across the street, and she smiled as she remembered how much Emalie enjoyed playing with them. She would be out of school in an hour and Jennifer still had to pack her own suitcase.