by Neal Jones
"I agree. Get some rest. I'll see you tomorrow."
He smiled at her, and for just a moment, she remembered why she had given in to him that night so long ago. Then she stood and walked out of ICU and never looked back.
( 4 )
The expansive courtyard of the Hexagon had been sectioned off by forcefields, and soldiers of the Emperor's Guard formed a defensive perimeter around it. Most of the population of Gtheldron was present outside the government complex, gathered in massive crowds to watch the union ceremony via broadcast on the public viewing screens. Most of the Emperium's population was watching the same broadcast, but only those who knew better weren't caught up in the glamour and the false romance of such a spectacle.
Lord Emperor Erengaar Valayne watched with pleasure as his bride ascended to the stage, the train of her extravagant gown being carried by four attendants. His happiness wasn't entirely selfish. He genuinely cared for his wife, contrary to Vatra's beliefs. While the marriage had been arranged, it wasn't void of genuine affection or love. Erengaar wasn't blind to the rumors that had been circulating among the members of his court, rumors that no doubt were given light and fire by his half-sister. He wasn't his father. He loved his wife, and he didn't physically abuse her, not the way that he had abused the servant girls. That was what they were for, after all. Larewyn was special.
She reached for his hand as she took the last step, and he smiled at her as he brought her to his side. They turned to the Father Intercessor, and he opened the Holy Covenant. An instant and reverent hush fell upon the crowd in the Hexagon, and they listened intently to the vows recited by the royal couple. This part of the ceremony lasted only a few minutes. Then came a sermon by the Father Intercessor, which was immediately followed by a responsive reading, and after that was a selection of music to be played by Sisters of Aslen. The songs were chosen by the lady empress, and Erengaar had encouraged her to be generous in her selection. This was her day, and it was the first opportunity for most of the empire's populace to get a glimpse of Larewyn.
When the Sisters were finished, the Father opened the Holy Covenant once more, and this time he spoke directly to Erengaar. The lord emperor recited the vows, promising to be faithful to his people and to the crown, to lead with justice and mercy, and to always place his faith in the Lords of Jha'Dar, just as his father had done, and his father before that, and his father before that. The Intercessor's attendant stepped forth and handed him the crown, and he placed it on Erengaar's brow. When Erengaar turned to face his people, a roar of approval burst from the audience, followed by thunderous applause.
The Father waited until the fervor waned, and then gave his final blessing upon the sacred union, as well as the crowning of the lord emperor. Another cacophony of applause and shouting rose into the air, as Erengaar and his bride shared their first public kiss. Then they descended to the courtyard and walked up the aisle to a waiting hovercar. It would take them to the royal family's summer home at a seaside resort two continents away. The honeymoon would last for at least a month, possibly longer.
The lord emperor settled back in his seat and grasped his wife's hand, smiling at her again as the car lifted off and the pilot set a course away from Gtheldron. "It's over," he told her. "You can breathe now."
Larewyn laughed. "Not until I get out of this dress." She leaned against her husband, laying her head on his shoulder, and closed her eyes. She wasn't naïve enough to believe that this happiness would last forever, which was all the more reason to savor it now; for this little while when everything seemed perfect.
The darkness would come soon enough.
( 5 )
The darkness seemed to last forever. Ambassador Zar had spent the last five days sequestered in her quarters. Her staff had left her alone, working instead on the preparations for her departure. Jerren's body was in cryo-stasis and ready to be transported to homeworld. Idran had transmitted a priority channel communiqué to the Federation Diplomatic Corps, informing them of Taelon's leave of absence. She didn't provide an end date. A copy of that same dispatch was sent to the embassy on homeworld. All that remained was to pack up the ambassador's quarters.
Taelon had meant to do that herself, but each morning that she awoke from a restless and dreamless night, she found only enough strength to eat and then go back to sleep. There wasn't much to pack anyway. Most of the luggage that she had brought with her held her clothes. Only a few personal items - holo-photos, some books, her PPC, a handful of bric-a-brac - had made the journey from homeworld, and it would take less than ten minutes to pack it away.
Except that that would mean surrendering to reality, admitting that she had failed, and that her only son was gone forever. Every time that she mustered the courage to walk into the living room and open the crate, a fresh surge of grief would wash through her, and it was if she was back in the ER, pulling back the sheet and looking at his cold, pale face. She couldn't get the image of Jerren's body out of her mind - the deep gash that had ripped open his throat, the strange coloring of the skin as rigor mortis and decay had set in, the blood that had clotted and dried in his hair, dappling it with splotches of deep brown.
She knelt by the crate now, closing her eyes tight against the dark memory, willing the image to leave her mind as she struggled to dwell on something else. She opened her eyes and jerked her head in the direction of the book shelves that held the personal items. She forced herself to stand, forced her legs to move, reached up to grab the books and then walk back to the crate and put them inside. The title of the first tome was "Flight of the Arde", a novel that she'd begun reading just before her departure here. It was a gift from a colleague at the embassy. Taelon stared at the cover, trying desperately to remember what the story was about, but all she could bring to mind was the topic of a book that Jerren told her he'd been reading. She choked back fresh tears, and walked to her desk. The bottle of medication was sitting where she'd left it the night before, and she had just dumped two pills into her hand when the door chime interrupted the silence.
The brief, bland tune was as loud as a symphony in the stillness, and Taelon dropped the bottle. She muttered a curse as she knelt to clean up the mess, and the chime resonated once more. "Just a minute!" She finally got the last pill back in the bottle and set it on the desk. She smoothed back her hair, smoothed the front of her tunic, wiped her eyes, and then faced the door. "Come in."
Commodore Gabriel was on the other side, leaning on a cane. He looked a little pale, but otherwise none the worse for wear. Something else was different though, something just not right, and Taelon suddenly realized that he was in civilian garb. She'd never seen him wearing anything other than his uniform.
"May I come in?"
"Yes. Yes, of course. May I get you something? Tea? Coffee? Juice?"
"No, thank you." He limped to the couch, favoring his left leg, and settled back against the cushions with an audible sigh. He noticed the ambassador still standing, watching him as though in a daze, and he took a moment to look over her disheveled appearance. "I can come back some other time, ambassador. I didn't mean to intrude."
"No!" she said quickly. "No, it's all right. I need the interruption." She walked awkwardly to the easy chair and sat, then took several moments to decide what to do with her hands. She eventually laid them in her lap looked at Gabriel with a blank expression, as if she wasn't sure what came next, the art of conversation suddenly forgotten or something totally unlearned to her.
This was not the regal, imposing woman who had greeted Gabriel at the airlock almost two months ago.
"I wanted to give you my deepest condolences," Gabriel began. "I'm very sorry for your loss."
Taelon nodded stiffly. "Thank you."
"I spoke with Idran this morning. She said you're leaving tomorrow."
"Yes, that's right. I'm going back to homeworld. I have some business I need to take care of there."
"Are you going to come back to Exxar-One?"
"I ... I don't know.
I'm not sure."
"Taelon, look at me." She obeyed, and Gabriel felt his gut wrench as he recognized the emptiness in her eyes and her expression. "I know what you're going through, and I know the grief and pain that you're feeling. But listen to me now." He paused, making sure that he had her attention. "You were right. I was being selfish and shortsighted. I even knew it at the time, and I didn't care. But after everything that we've been through, after ... the loss that we've suffered, I realize now how foolish and ... stupid I've been. You and Ambassador Vorik persevered. You succeeded in forging an alliance where no one believed it was possible, and even more than that, you had the foresight to create this place where we could continue to build on that alliance." He leaned forward, reaching out to her and she winced as he grasped her hand. "We're still here! They tried to destroy us, tried to undermine this alliance, but we survived! We're still here! And I need you!"
He let go of her hand and sat back, wincing at the pain that lanced up his spine at his exertion. He took a few moments to inhale and exhale, wondering if it was too soon for another dose of medication. He watched Taelon, trying to gauge her reaction, and he was relieved to see a glimmer of something in her eyes. "If this alliance is going to last, those of my generation and Saveck's generation are going to have the hardest time living in it. I need you here to keep me – to keep us – honest."
Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the ambassador nodded. The vulnerability in her eyes as she spoke made Gabriel's heart ache. "He was reading 'A Dissertation On The Huunak Colonization Of 2432'. He told me that it was as dry as desert and utterly boring, but it helped him sleep." She looked down at her lap, almost succumbing to the tears, but she forced back the tidal wave and looked at Gabriel. "I don't know if I can, commodore. Even during the difficult times in our marriage, I still loved my husband, and when he died I wasn't sure I had enough strength to continue my work. It just didn't seem to matter anymore. And now ..." She paused, drew a shaky breath. "Now, I don't know. I need some time to sort through this."
Taelon rose and walked to her desk. She began gathering her things and putting them in the crate. "I was fortunate enough to reconnect with Jerren before it was too late. It was a mistake that I should have corrected long ago, and now I think I should take the time to do the same with my daughters. Our family has been broken for a long time now, and none of us have been willing to admit it. It's time I changed that." She wrapped the knick-knacks in tissue paper and placed them on top of the books. "To be honest with you, commodore, I'm considering my future with the diplomatic corps. Perhaps this is a good time to retire, to spend more days with my children and grandchildren." She smiled wistfully. "You're right, commodore. This station is Queyn's and my legacy. And thanks to you and Major Saveck and the rest of your crew, it's still here. I think that you're not giving yourself enough credit, and that you'll do just fine without me." She closed the crate and sealed it, and then stood back to look around the empty room.
"I hope you're right." Marc winced as he stood, and he placed his full weight on the cane until the pain subsided. He reached in his pocket for the hypo and injected a dose into his arm.
"Are you all right?" Taelon asked. "You can stay a little longer, if you like. I should make myself some lunch. I haven't eaten for ... what time is it?"
Marc smiled. "Thank you, but no. I need to lie down and maybe take a nap. Will you be at the memorial service tonight?"
"Yes."
"I'll see you then."
( 6 )
"Well, well, well. Stand up at let me get a closer look at that collar, lieutenant commander."
Christine Navarr, newly promoted to chief of security, scowled as she looked up from her compad. "Don't you have somewhere to be?"
"Oh, come on, Chris. That's all I get? No 'Hi, how are ya, nice to see you again'?" Lieutenant Jeff Ritano plopped into the chair in front of the desk and tipped it back so he could prop his feet on the edge of the desk. "You don't resent me that much, do you?"
"What do you want?"
"I just thought we could catch up on old times. Now that you're the security chief, you can't completely avoid me, and you know I'm going to pester you until you talk to me."
"Some would call that harassment."
"I'm not asking for a relationship. I just want to be friends."
"I'm busy, lieutenant. If you'd like to talk to me, you may schedule an appointment. Otherwise, I'll see you at the weekly staff briefings. Dismissed."
Jeff snickered as he stood and headed for the door. "See you later then ... Pooh Bear."
Navarr's head snapped up, and she instantly kicked herself for giving him the satisfaction of a reaction. But he was already out the door, and she gave a sigh of resignation as she returned to her work. She decided it was time to rearrange the shifts a bit, in order to balance them out more after the losses suffered in the Haal'Chai attack. It was a task that she'd had on her list anyway, but there'd been a couple other matters that needed her immediate attention.
Navarr cleared her terminal screen and opened the folder containing the shift schedules. Sure enough, there was more than a few slots open on delta shift, and she quickly erased Ritano's name from beta shift and rewrote it under delta's column. She also made sure to assign his squad to a remote section of the station that wasn't anywhere near the public viewing screens. Such a shame that Mister Ritano would have to miss the final four games of the Essver Cup Series, but that's just the way these things go sometimes. And after all, it wasn't as if he couldn't save them on his HT's hard drive and watch them later.
Navarr spent the next two hours fixing the rest of the shift scheduling and then decided to treat herself to an early lunch.
( 7 )
Commodore Marcus Gabriel, commanding officer of starbase Exxar-One, walked to the stage and forced himself not to wince as he ascended the steps to the podium. He had made a last minute decision not to use his cane, and now he was regretting it. But as he faced the audience of almost seven hundred officers and civilians, the dull, pulsing ache in his back and limbs became a secondary concern. Behind him, the towering viewport that formed the rear wall of the quarterdeck offered a panoramic view of the serene starscape.
The commodore hadn't prepared a speech, and he hadn't given much thought to what he was going to say. This wasn't the first memorial service where he'd delivered a eulogy, and he knew that the right words would come to him when he needed them. He took a moment to pass his gaze over the crowd and then glanced up to catch the eyes of the remote cameras that were transmitting the service to the station's public viewing screens.
"We are gathered here today to mourn the loss of those who died in service to their empire and their uniform. The men and women who sacrificed their lives in the line of duty five days ago will forever be remembered in this place. Their names will be inscribed into these walls, and their bravery and heroism will not soon be forgotten. It is because of them that we are still here today. Because of them, this starbase and everything it stands for shall not soon pass into oblivion." He paused long enough to open the leather bound book that a yeoman had placed on the lectern before the service began. " 'We therefore now commit these bodies unto the deep, and their souls unto the stars. We look towards the day when we shall be reunited in that other place, beyond all sorrow and beyond all pain. We ask for guidance as we continue in this life, calling upon the unseen guardians who watch over us and light our path. Amen.' "
Gabriel stepped back from the podium and nodded to his senior command staff who were all seated in the first row. They stood as one and Major Saveck led them in a formal processional onto the stage where they formed a line behind the commodore. At stage right, an honor guard of twelve security officers in dress uniform came to attention and readied their weapons. The antique M16 machine guns, loaded with blanks, were reserved only for formal services such as this.
"All hands ... atten-shun!"
The audience responded immediately to Gabriel's command, rising almost as one body
and then waiting for his second order.
"Present ... arms!"
All officers present raised their right hands in military salute as the honor guard fired the first round. They discharged their empty casings and fired again. Six more rounds, and then they returned to parade rest. The 176th Garozald Battalion Symphony, the same one that had performed during the change of command ceremony, was located at stage left. The bugler put his instrument to his lips, and the simple, emotional melody of "Taps" filled the vast expanse of the quarterdeck. The experienced musician knew exactly how to lift the notes from his trumpet, releasing each one into the air like the softly spoken words of an elegy. When the song was finished, after the last note had surrendered to the somber silence, Commodore Gabriel waited a few moments before ordering a parade rest. He turned to an EarthCorps officer who was seated at the end of the first row with the command staff. She ascended to the stage and set her compad on the podium.
Ensign Clayton activated her screen and began to read the names of the fallen. They were in alphabetical order by last name, and there was seven-hundred-thirty-two of them. Krael Jerren Zar was the last name, and his mother bowed her head to hide her tears. The ensign came to attention, saluted, and then walked to the end of the line of the senior officers. Gabriel nodded to a lieutenant at the end of the second row and he spoke into his commlink.
All eyes turned upward as a squad of hornets suddenly zoomed into view from above and behind the primary hull. They raced to a distant point and then came around for another pass. The pilots gunned their engines, accelerating towards the quarterdeck at full speed and pulling up at the last second. As they did so, they discharged a burst of plasma from their engine ports and it ignited in the wake of the after burn. The fiery ribbons formed a six pointed star, which faded almost as soon as it was born.
Gabriel returned to the podium to give his closing remarks, but the words stuck in his throat, and the commodore coughed, then said, "This concludes our service. All hands dismissed."