by Neal Jones
"I understand your situation, and I wish that I could say I have forgiven the Chrisarii for the great loss I have suffered. But the truth is that I wake up every morning, and I reach for the other side of the bed, expecting him to be asleep beside me. And when feel only emptiness, I remember the day I received your letter." She forced herself to relax, to set the cup down on the coffee table, but her voice cracked as she looked up at her son. "I am partly to blame for Jason's behavior. All those years that I was left alone to raise you kids while your father was off serving his government and his uniform, I will admit that resented his absence on more than a few occasions. Especially as you and Jason got older, and the two of you fought over the smallest thing." She picked up her cup again to take a sip but thought better of it and set it down. Her fingers seemed to squirm and twitch of their own accord, as if they weren't sure what to do with themselves. "Jason's right. Your father's devotion to his duty cost him his life, and there will always be a part of me that will never forgive him for that. But there will also be a part of me that is proud of his loyalty to his empire, and to the legacy that was left him by his father and grandfather. I understood his need to serve that legacy, and while there were times when I hated it, there were also times when I loved him for it. He was an honorable and just man, and while he wasn't here all the time to help raise his children, he still succeeded in passing his values and his morals to the three of you." She stood, smoothing the front of her shirt and picked up her mug. "I understand your conflict, Marc, but your father understood the duty of a soldier, and if you shirk your responsibility now, you will be dishonoring his memory, and I will not accept that." She held his gaze for several moments, then left her son alone.
Marc thought that there was parts of her speech which seemed a bit rehearsed, as though his mother had forced herself to make peace with certain aspects of her marriage and her life. There was also the unspoken fear which had been her constant companion since the time Robert had kissed her goodbye to report for his first assignment, the very fear which had been confirmed when she received Marc's letter telling her that her husband had been killed at the battle of Rigana-seven. The same terror which she lived with now, as she watched Marc come home for leave that was never long enough, no matter how many days or weeks it was. It was the anxiety of receiving a second letter, this time from a stranger, informing her of her son's sacrifice in the line of duty.
And Marc couldn't blame her. It was the one reason that had kept him from marrying a civilian, choosing instead to forge personal relationships with fellow officers. As he trudged up the stairs, he felt his emotions coming to a boil – his anger at Jason, his fury over his new assignment, and the grief over his father's death. When he entered his childhood room, he immediately focused on the sleeping form of his girlfriend.
Karri was on the right side of the double bed, facing away from the door. Marc tore at his shirt and pants, shucking his clothes in a fit of fresh lust. Once naked, he slipped under the covers, cuddling next to Karri. She stirred, smiling as she opened her eyes and turned to her commanding officer, embracing him. They kissed, and she was startled by his intensity, but she quickly answered by matching his passion with hers, and he tore off her nightgown the same way he had torn off his own clothes.
They rolled to the center of the bed with her on top. He entered her immediately, fucking her with the same intensity he had kissed her. Karri bit her lip to keep from screaming in pleasure, but there was also a little pain. They rolled over again, and this time Marc didn't miss a beat as he quickened his pace. Karri locked her gaze with his, matching each thrust with one of her own, and her fingers clawed at his back. He desired the pain, biting his lip as she did hers, and the only sound was the rustling of the bed sheets, like gushing water stirred up by a strong wind.
As her climax began Karri gasped, and Marc silenced her with a long kiss. His climax immediately followed, and when it was over, he rolled away, turned his back to her, and pulled the sheets up around himself. He was asleep long before she was.
Chapter 2
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( 1 )
WHEN MARC ENTERED THE KITCHEN, fresh from a shower and dressed in his uniform, he found only his sister waiting for him. This surprised him, only because his mother usually woke at five, and he wanted to say goodbye to her. Melissa handed him a cup of coffee and motioned to the table.
"Have a seat. I made breakfast." She flipped the eggs and checked the sausage. "Mom will be out in a few minutes. I wanted us to have some time alone."
Marc smiled as he spooned some sugar into his coffee. This was typical Melissa. She always waited until both sides had had their say, then stepped in to give her two cents worth as an arbitrator. Since she was the middle child, she was often caught between her brothers and had quickly learned how to steer clear until she felt it was necessary to mediate. He perused the paper while waiting for her to join him at the table. She handed him his plate and then sat down, wrapping both hands around her mug of tea.
"I feel the same as Mom and Jason, and you know that so I won't beat you over the head with another long, impassioned speech. Instead, just know that I love you, and I support you. I always have, and so have mom and Jason, though they don't show it as often as they should." She gave a shrug as if to say, what are you gonna do?
Marc nodded as he scooped up yoke with his spoon. "Thank you." He washed his eggs down with coffee, then asked, "Jason's in his shop?"
Melissa shook her head. "He said he had to go pick up a parts shipment in town."
"When did he move back here?" Marc asked.
"A couple years ago. You know mom. She would never admit it to anyone, but she needs some help taking care of the house and herself. So she asked Jason if he'd like to move his shop to the back pasture, next to the barn. She should have asked him six years ago, but her pride made her wait until Jason's partnership with Ted fell through, and he needed space to set up a new shop."
"So he's doing pretty well?"
"Oh yeah. Marc, you should really take an interest in his work sometime. Jason knows what he's doing, and he's got clients from all over this sector. Rich ones too. Apparently, some people will pay an awful lot of money for authentically restored classic hovercars."
Marc smiled ruefully and nodded. Stubborn pride was a genetic trait in the Gabriel lineage, and Marc knew his sister was right. He vowed silently to make an effort on his next trip home – which would be soon. After the bullshit that CMC was pulling with this new assignment and not allowing him or his crew full shore leave, they owed him a big favor, and he was going to cash it in at the earliest opportunity.
Alanys entered the kitchen, kissing her children on their cheeks and greeting them with motherly warmth. When Melissa stood to help, Alanys shooed her back into her chair. "I'm not an invalid yet, dear. You've already done enough." She scooped herself some eggs and sausage and put two slices of bread into the toaster. "Marc, would you like some pancakes? You've still got enough time, and you look like you've lost weight. Starship food processors can't take the place of a home-cooked meal."
"Yes, mother, you're right – on both counts. Doctor Burke felt I needed to lose a few pounds after my last physical. So she put me on a restricted diet. I don't have time for pancakes, but I will have some more eggs and toast."
"Nonsense. I'm making buttermilk pancakes. The Dauntless isn't going anywhere without you. Is Karri up yet?"
"She in the shower right now. She'll be down by the time you're done."
"Good." Alanys set to her task, humming brightly as she cracked the eggs and poured the flour.
( 2 )
Starbase Freedom-Twelve moved slowly and securely in her orbit high above Earth's western hemisphere. Almost all of her docking ports were filled with an even mix of military and civilian ships. Maintenance drones, crew shuttles and cargo skiffs buzzed about the station like bees moving in and out of a gleaming hive. The Dauntless was berthed at one of the outermost ports, at the end of t
he fourth docking arm. At the entrance to the crossway tunnel, Commodore Gabriel and Lieutenant Commander Benson were greeted by Admiral Hazen. Salutes were exchanged, and Benson nodded to Gabriel before continuing on her way.
"Here's my transfer request." The commodore handed the palm-disc to Hazen.
"I'll do what I can, Marc, but you know how these things work. Piller's a Fleet Admiral, and his name is on those orders. He's decided you’re the man for this job, and I doubt that I can change his mind. Not for several months, at least. In the meantime, if you need anything, don't hesitate to call me directly."
"I know. And thank you."
Marc came to attention and saluted, then entered the tunnel. As he neared the other side and the hatch opened, he was stunned by the face which greeted him. Commander Decev smiled, but it was a nervous expression, and it was several moments before she realized she needed to salute. When the formality was over and both had dropped their hands back to their sides, neither was sure where begin.
It wasn't until someone behind Gabriel cleared their throat that the uncomfortable silence was broken. The commodore turned to see a woman in a captain's uniform standing behind him. The top of her head almost reached his chin, and her square, homely face displayed mild annoyance. The name patch on her right breast said 'McKenna'. Her green eyes widened slightly as she read Gabriel's name patch and then glanced briefly at his epaulets, where all EarthCorps naval officers displayed their rank. She immediately came to attention and saluted.
"Captain Kathryne McKenna, sir. I'm the Dauntless' new commanding officer."
"Commodore Gabriel."
McKenna stuck out a hand. "Pleased to meet you, commodore." She turned to Decev and another round of saluting and hand-shaking commenced.
"Commander Mariah Decev. I'm Exxar-One's chief science officer."
"Pleased to meet you, commander." She nodded to Gabriel once more before disappearing down the corridor towards the nearest PTL.
"I suppose we should get out of the way," Gabriel said, heading in the same direction as the Dauntless' new captain. Decev fell in step beside him, and they kept a leisurely pace, although both were still unsure of how to break the ice that had solidified over a three year friendship. After another minute Marc could stand it no longer. He stopped and faced Mariah. "I'm sorry for not staying in touch. I should have at least written, but..." He couldn't think of a valid excuse.
"It's okay," she replied. "I was the one who should have broken the silence. What I said to you at Paul's funeral was unfair."
"No, I deserved it."
The resumed their trek and paused before the PTL doors, waiting for the next car.
"How's Josh?"
"He's...he's a typical teenager. He resents me and only engages me in conversation when I force him out of his self-induced shell of grunge music and video games."
"What kind of grunge? The Sliven Kelg are very big right now."
"Oh, very funny."
Just like that the ice was broken, but Mariah still felt uneasy. Sooner or later, they would have to discuss that night on Kelatia-two, and she still wasn't prepared to haul that particular skeleton out of its closet. One the other hand, they had both just apologized for their argument at the memorial service, and the skeleton had stayed in the dark for this long, so perhaps its bones had crumbled to dust by now, and there was no need to resurrect it.
"Commander? Are you coming?"
Gabriel's voice snapped the science officer out of her reverie, and she saw him standing inside a PTL car with a pair of ensigns. They were all waiting patiently for her, and she mumbled an apology as she stepped inside.
"We'll talk later," the commodore murmured into Decev's right ear as the doors closed and the lift jumped smoothly into silent motion.
( 3 )
Twenty minutes after his return to the Dauntless, Commodore Gabriel exited the PTL and walked onto a bridge that was no longer his. Captain McKenna was standing beside her command chair, her spine straight as a stardrive power rod, hands clasped firmly behind her back, her eyes fixed on the forward wall of the bridge. The main viewscreen was not activated, and Gabriel was mildly perplexed as to what was holding the captain's attention. He followed her gaze but saw nothing out of the ordinary on the plain, gray bulkhead.
"Commodore on deck!"
That was McCoy's voice, and McKenna was the first to face Gabriel and come to attention. The rest of the crew quickly followed suit, ceasing their individual tasks, and the murmured buzz of the varied conversations abruptly died. Gabriel returned the salutes and nodded to McKenna.
"Since you're not sitting in that chair, I assume you haven't yet entered the transfer of command into the log."
"No, sir. I felt it would be more proper to wait for you."
Gabriel nodded, pleased with her decision. "Carry on then."
"Yes, sir." McKenna tapped a command into the com panel of the left arm of her chair. Throughout the ship, a chime rang to signal attention, and everyone listened as their new captain spoke. "Attention all hands. Transfer of command ceremony now to commence." She turned back to Gabriel and came to attention.
The commodore activated his compad and began to read. "From Fleet Admiral Joseph Piller, EarthCorps Naval Command, to Commodore Marcus Gabriel, EarthCorps Naval Command, galactic standard date thirty-eight-dash-twenty-two-five-hundred-thirty-five-point-zero-four. Commodore, you are hereby ordered to proceed to starbase Exxar-One and take upon yourself the duties and responsibilities of its commanding officer in the service of the EarthCorps Navy and the Interstellar Federation. You will relinquish command of the E.C.S. Dauntless, SRC-2577, and her crew, effective this date, zero-eight-hundred hours. End of orders."
There was a brief silence as Captain McKenna activated her own compad and began to read. "From Fleet Admiral Joseph Piller, EarthCorps Naval Command, to Captain Kathryne McKenna, EarthCorps Naval Command, galactic standard date thirty-eight-dash-twenty-two-five-hundred-thirty-five-point-zero-four. Captain, you are hereby ordered to report to starship E.C.S. Dauntless, SRC-2577, and take upon yourself the duties and responsibilities of its commanding officer in the service of the EarthCorps Navy and the Interstellar Federation. End of orders." She lowered her pad and saluted Gabriel. "Sir, I relieve you of your command."
"Captain, I stand relieved."
The ceremony was over. McKenna sounded the all-clear chime, and all over the ship crewmen resumed their tasks. The bridge crew, however, waited, knowing that their former captain had more to say.
"I apologize once more to all of you for the abruptness of our departure and the cancellation of our shore leave. I understand your disappointment, but we have our orders, and as officers of the Navy we will carry out those orders, no matter our personal feelings or desires." He paused, meeting the gaze of each officer, and then continued. "There will be a staff briefing at eleven hundred hours. Carry on."
"Thank you, sir," McKenna said before turning to Ensign Juarez, the Dauntless' communications officer. "Ensign, have all necessary personnel reported aboard?"
"Affirmative, ma'am. We've also received departure clearance from docking control."
"Very good. Give the signal to disengage moorings and crossway tunnels."
Juarez relayed the command to docking control, then listened for a moment. "Moorings and crossway tunnels have been released."
"Thank you, ensign. Mister Voorhees, please activate thrusters, half power, and maneuver us away from the docking arm. Once we have cleared a safe distance, engage stardrive, level four. Plot a course for the Tiralan Neutral Zone."
"Course already plotted and laid in, ma'am," Ensign Voorhees, the Dauntless' navigator, responded crisply. "We will be clearing safe distance in four minutes, twenty seconds."
The sleek, streamlined, oblong form of the EarthCorps starship Dauntless glided away from Freedom-Twelve, her running lights snapping on and her main engines slowly powering to life. A few maintenance droids still buzzed about, but they quickly retreated to their b
erths in the docking arm as the distance between the arm and the Dauntless increased.
"Stardrive coming on line, all systems read go," Voorhees reported. "Activating main engines, level four."
The Dauntless leaped into stardrive, vanishing into hyperspace, with only a flash of light and sound to herald her exit from normal space.
"Stardrive has been engaged, all systems still read go. At present speed, ETA to Tiralan Neutral Zone is four days, twenty-one hours, and forty minutes, GST."
"Thank you, ensign," McKenna replied. "As soon as we've cleared the system, punch it up to level five."
"Yes, ma'am."
As his former crew busied themselves at their respective stations, Gabriel stepped into the PTL. The last thing he saw before the doors closed was Captain McKenna taking her seat in the command chair.
( 4 )
When Mariah entered the wardroom, she was surprised to see that she was the last one to arrive. She glanced at the chrono above the large viewscreen on the far wall as she took her seat to Gabriel's left. She was five minutes early, and Mariah marveled at the punctuality of Gabriel's former crew. But as she thought about it, she realized that she shouldn't be surprised. Marc was never late for anything at any time in his adult life. He firmly believed in the old mantra that five minutes early was on time, on time was late, and anything after that was unacceptable.
The other officers were engaged in various conversations amongst themselves while they waited for the commodore to bring the meeting to order. The conference table was long enough to seat sixteen comfortably, and Mariah scanned the faces of those around her. To her left was Captain McKenna, and beside her was an older woman in a medic's uniform. Her name patch said 'Burke'. To her left was a tall, black man with a thick torso and a wide face. His muscular frame took up every square inch of his seat, and his name patch said 'Zamora'. To his left was the Dauntless' chief engineer, Lieutenant Wolfe. Zamora and Wolfe made a comical pair, as Wolfe was thin and gangly, with a narrow face and brown eyes that were set close together. His hands were folded on the tabletop, and a pair of fingers were gently tapping a steady rhythm.