by Neal Jones
The audience slowly disbanded in small groups, only a few of them breaking the silence to murmur something to one another. Some of them paused near the walls, noting the marks that had been left by the engineering crew who would be engraving the names that Ensign Clayton had just finished reading aloud. In twenty minutes Gabriel was alone. He slowly descended from the stage to the first row and sat, heaving a sigh as he welcomed the relief from the stress of standing for so long. He looked around at the empty seats, then up at the viewport where the DrayH'M battle cruiser Rett Kolsha had just passed into view at a distant point, and then at the flags that formed a row of color guard along the rear of the stage.
He bowed his head to hide his tears.
( 8 )
It was two days after the memorial service that Gabriel walked into the office of his former CMO on the Dauntless. Doctor Burke was in mid-conversation with Captain McKenna, and they glanced up as the commodore entered. Jo broke off her sentence and motioned to the empty chair in front her desk next to the captain.
"You must be feeling better if you're walking without your cane," the doctor remarked.
Gabriel nodded. "I am, thank you. There's still some residual ... flashes every now and then, but I think I'm back to normal. Mostly."
"Good." Jo tapped a key on her terminal's pad to pull up a bio-readout analysis of the Erayan. "The main reason I wanted to discuss Ilkara with you is because Captain McKenna and I have decided that it would be prudent to keep her presence here unknown the brass at Federation Medical and CMC."
"Why?"
Burke swiveled her terminal screen so Gabriel could see the readout. "Stated simply, this ... person" - she wasn't sure how to refer to someone who was gender neutral - "is a marvel of modern medicine."
"Yes, I've read your report," Gabriel replied. "I was especially interested in the series of experiments you conducted with samples of her white blood cells and samples of common viruses. That's why I'm surprised by this request. If her physiology is as advanced as you say it is, why don't you want her transported to Federation Medical? Surely their facilities are better equipped to study someone like Ilkara."
"Yes, they are," Burke admitted. "My experiments here were conducted with viral samples that are kept on hand for immunization purposes. We already have a cure to them, but I was intrigued by the rapidity with which Ilkara's blood sample eradicated the viruses. It worked twice as fast as any of the antigens which are currently on hand, which leads me to wonder if they would have the same effect on viruses and diseases that we currently don't have a cure for."
As Gabriel followed her train of thought, he began to realize why she was making such an unusual request. "She - it - is going to be turned into a lab rat."
"A very high-profile, very famous lab rat," Burke added. "It will be yanked out of our hands, sequestered in a quarantine facility on Galadriel, and while I have no doubt that the resulting research will provide many benefits and advances to modern medicine, I also have no doubt that its personal rights as a sentient being will take a back seat to said research."
The commodore nodded, acceding the doctor's point.
"We’ve just made first contact with a new species," McKenna added. "Its unique physiology - as well as its connection to the whole Jha'Drok/Chrisarii mess - is going to turn it into an overnight celebrity."
"This is why I made it imperative that you speak with me first before transmitting your final report to CMC," Burke said. "I'm not naïve enough to believe that we can keep its presence a permanent secret, but I am damn sure that now is not the time to announce its existence. So far, only fifty-some officers of this crew and your senior staff on Exxar-One know about it, and Kathryne and I have already taken measures to ensure confidentiality with our people here."
Gabriel took a minute to ponder everything that had been said and then nodded. "Your request is granted. I'll omit this from my report before I transmit it tomorrow."
"Have you received any responses from Admiral Hazen or anyone at CMC regarding all this?" McKenna asked.
"No, and quite honestly, I don't expect any for another few weeks. This whole situation had given Parliament and CMC more than enough for their analysts to chew on. It'll take them awhile to digest this." He stood. "Unless there's anything further, I have an appointment with Doctor Rosenberg."
Jo shook her head and stood as well. Her expression was warm and motherly as she smiled at her former commanding officer. "Take care of yourself, Marc. And don't be a stranger. There will always be a seat at out poker table for you."
Gabriel nodded, returning her smile with one of his own that he hoped wasn't too melancholy or bittersweet. "Thank you, Jo." He glanced at McKenna. "Captain."
"Commodore."
Gabriel walked out of the office, feeling only the slightest ache in his upper chest. It might have been another flash of residual pain from his ordeal on the Tl'Keth, but maybe it wasn't. It was hard to tell.
( 9 )
Ben walked into his office and sat behind his desk, staring at the blank screen of his computer terminal. The unit wasn't on, but he couldn't bring himself to reach out and activate it. There'd been one brief conversation the day that Garrett and his people had finally restored main power to Exxar-One and brought all systems on line. Jennifer had been relieved to hear from her husband, but she'd put Emalie on screen almost immediately, and then she'd made an excuse to end the call before Ben could ask her when she was planning to return to Exxar-One.
He'd been angry at that but decided to let it go for the time being and give his wife the space she clearly desired. He was also still immensely relieved that she and Emalie had been off Exxar-One when the Haal'Chai had attacked. But after mulling the situation over for the past few days, and after not receiving a single call or letter from her, he decided that enough was enough. She had been punishing him ever since she'd discovered his deception regarding his acceptance of this assignment, and if she wanted a divorce, so be it. But it would not be done long distance. He missed his daughter terribly, and he wasn't going to allow Jennifer to keep her from him.
Ben activated his terminal, logged into the interweb network and keyed in the comm-code for his mother-in-law's house in Chicago. It was almost midnight there. He knew Jennifer would be home, and she'd probably still be up. And if not, well, then she should have stayed on the line longer last time.
Jennifer's face appeared on the screen, and she hadn't yet been to bed. "Hello?"
"It's me, Jenn."
"Oh."
"Yeah, it's nice to see you too."
"Ben, it's late -"
"Yes, I know. That's why I called. I knew you'd be home, and I knew you'd answer. I want to discuss our situation. You can either do it now, or you can come back to Exxar-One and we can do it here. Your choice."
Jennifer sighed. "I just need a few more days, Ben. Why can't you just give me some space and time?"
"Because I don't understand why you need them!" he snapped. "You've punished me enough, don't you think? If you don't want to live on Exxar-One, fine. Bring back Emalie and then you can have all the space you want. You can stay on Earth permanently, for all I care. I'm tired of this bullshit! You're just angry because you didn't get your way, and you think that you won't be happy until everything is exactly the way you want it!"
He knew he struck a nerve because her entire face went taut, like a live wire that had just had a zap of fresh electricity race through it. The look in her eyes could have melted steel. "That's not what this is about, and you know it. All I can think about right now is what would have happened if Emalie and I had still been there when those bastards attacked the station! What if Emalie -" But she couldn't finish the thought and her voice broke.
For just a moment, Ben saw the naked fear in her eyes; how truly terrified she was of the possibility that she might have lost her daughter. She looked away from the screen for a few seconds, and when she turned back to him, she calm and composed once more.
"I promise to
call you in a few days." She sighed. "I don't want to fight you, Ben. I just need some more time to think about all this. To think about ... us."
He didn't want to believe her, but the weariness in her tone made him cave. He didn't want to fight her, either, and at least she was being honest. "Okay," he said. "Tell Emalie that I called, and that I love her."
"I always do. Goodnight, Ben."
She didn't wait for his response, and he didn't give one. He shut off the screen and sat back, wondering yet again if his reason for accepting this assignment was worth all this grief. But then he shoved the question out of his head as he stood and walked out of his office. He would decide that during the next conversation with Jennifer. By giving her space and time, she was giving him some as well, and he was going to use it to his advantage.
He had an appointment with Doctor burke to discuss the results of her examinations of the Erayan lifeform.
( 10 )
Commodore Gabriel stood in the observation dome, looking through binoculars out the viewport at the FCE crew who was situating the hypergate in its permanent position a medium distance from Exxar-One. As he watched the EVA suits crawl over the blank surface of the alien gateway, he felt a familiar tingle in the back of his skull. The last time he'd had that sensation was as an ensign aboard the ECS Iowa, fresh out of the academy, two years before the Beta Erendii war began. The crew was exploring an uncharted sector, and they'd happened upon a lifeform floating in space. It was half the size of the Iowa, and it was near dead. Lieutenant Commander Mott, chief science officer, had invited an eager, jubilated Ensign Gabriel to join the exploration team that was sent out to investigate the alien.
That was the first and only time in his career that Marc had reached out and touched the murky, gelatinous skin of an unconscious lifeform that looked like a cross between a sea anemone and an octopus. The sentient being had sensed his touch, even in its coma-like state, and sent a ripple of contact back through the connection that had left Gabriel feeling on top of the universe for days afterward. A part of him wished that he could be out there now with the FCE team, feeling the surface of the hypergate with his gloved fingers and walking on it while looking up and out at a skewed perspective of Exxar-One.
"Ah! So here you are."
Mariah's voice at his elbow startled Gabriel so badly that he nearly dropped the binoculars. She apologized as she handed him a compad.
"The latest repair updates. The new doors to AGC and primary shuttledock are in place and working perfectly. Exxar-One is almost as good as new. The repairs to the bulkheads where the Haal'Chai fleet fired on us will be finished day after tomorrow. And that's the last of it."
Gabriel nodded, looking once more through the binoculars at the FCE crew. "Until next time, of course."
"Of course." Decev frowned and squinted as she followed his gaze. "What are you looking at?"
"Here." He handed her the binoculars.
"Oh. Amazing, isn't it? I can't wait to go back to the planet and see what McCoy and his people have uncovered." She pressed the button to zoom in closer on the surface of the gateway. "We'll be exploring that place for months!"
Gabriel chuckled.
Mariah lowered the binoculars to glance at him. "What's so funny?"
"I'd forgotten about that tone you get in your voice when you get really excited."
She smiled and resumed her hypergate watching. "Do you know what ship is going to be assigned to explore the systems beyond Gateway Prime?"
"I'm not sure, but I have a pretty good suspicion that it's going to be the Dauntless."
"Really?" Decev handed the binoculars back. "McKenna's not going to like that."
Gabriel's mouth twitched with bemusement. "No, she's not. But to tell you the truth, I wouldn't entrust the lives of my former crew to anyone else. And, all things considered, I think she's done a damn good job so far."
"So have you." Mariah voice was soft, but earnest. "You do know that, right?"
"Yes. And thanks for reminding me."
They both turned back to the viewport and shared the comfortable quiet. After a bit, Gabriel said quietly, "I don't understand how I got free. There was no one else in that room except Serehl, and I'm sure he wasn't the one who unfastened my restraints."
"Marc, you suffered extreme trauma. You were barely conscious. It's possible that one of Serehl's soldiers was there, or maybe Serehl himself did it without meaning to."
"Maybe ..."
Mariah reached out and gently squeezed his hand. "It's over. Just be thankful you survived."
Marc nodded, but his expression remained clouded. He was remembering the prayer that was being whispered in his left ear in a Greek tongue.
They stood at the viewport, stargazing in silence until they were both summoned to the command deck ten minutes later.
( 11 )
Kralin Saveck stood in the middle of his quarters, looking around the sparsely decorated living room and finally settling his gaze on the medium-sized altar occupying the far corner, next to the viewport. It was hand carved from lis wood, with the five symbols of the Varashok etched around the upper rim. The altar had been made by Farak, one for each of his sons as a coming-of-age gift. Kralin had rejected his, leaving it at home in storage when he left to join his brother at the Beta Erendii colony. Only after the war was over, after he'd accepted his posting at the War Academy, did his mother finally ship the altar to him, but she hadn't given him any warning. She knew as well as he did that if she had, he would have refused it.
But even though Kralin hadn't sent it back, he'd kept it sealed in its crate, toting it with him to the Draxis border post, and then to Exxar-One. Only this evening, after several hours of frustrated ruminating, had he rummaged in the closet and pulled out the crate. The altar had needed very little dusting, and it looked so small in the corner, dwarfed by the size of the viewport and the lack of any other decoration in the sparsely furnished room. Kralin reached into the crate and unwrapped the five ceremonial candles, hand made by Jharis. Each of them had a symbol carved into it, and he matched them to the five symbols on the upper rim of the altar, placing them carefully but firmly in their notches. Then he stood back to appraise the thing once more, and he frowned as he reached for the lighter.
The restlessness and angst that had burned in Kralin's soul for most of his life - what had eventually become a hunger for vengeance after the slaughter of his brother's family - had not abated one bit since the end of the Haal'Chai attack. It had, in fact, increased by tenfold in the last week, as the major couldn't decide whether or not to accept High Chancellor Kroth's offer to command a dreadnought. The offer was still open - Kralin had checked two days ago - but every time he sat at his desk to write the communiqué, he couldn't bring himself to type the words.
During the memorial service, as the names of the dead were being read aloud, Saveck was remembering the many funerals that he had attended during the war, and especially the one where the ashes of Jran and his family had been laid to rest. And as Ensign Clayton reached the end of her very long list, Kralin felt something inside of him give way, like the thick bough of a tree snapping beneath the fury of a thunderstorm. He had walked off the quarterdeck with his fellow officers, but not really seeing them or hearing their murmured words. He spent the next three hours touring Exxar-One alone, lost in his remembered grief and his internal struggle.
His opportunity to commit suicide during the battle was lost. He had tried to come up with a way to get one of the Haal'Chai to assault him but without bringing any harm to his fellow prisoners as they escaped the brig. Unfortunately, the right moment had never come, and then the DrayH'M had arrived when expected, and the battle on the station had been all too brief. Kralin had thought about proceeding with the suicide ritual as he'd originally planned, but as with his efforts to accept Kroth's offer, something had kept his hand from reaching out to the Pak'Lar dagger.
And that was the cause of his struggle. What was he searching for? What was keeping
him tethered to Exxar-One? He refused to believe in any kind of divine intervention, and he'd finally had no choice but to give up and pull the altar from the closet. The last few nights had been even more restless and dreamless than those weeks leading up to the Haal'Chai attack. Kralin was exhausted - physically and emotionally - and he decided that if all else failed, there's was nothing left to light the candles and say a prayer. He wasn't about to surrender his soul to the Varashok and start attending services at the cathedral once a week, but a prayer every now and then probably couldn’t hurt.
He opened his mouth but no words came out. Kralin sighed as he wracked his memory, trying to come up with something that he'd learned as a child, but he hadn't recited the traditional prayers for so long that he'd completely forgotten them. He finally gave up and settled for the one that he'd heard Gabriel read at the memorial service.
"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."
Kralin paused, listening to the silence, trying to decide if he felt better - or worse. And then he moved quickly to his desk, sat down and activated his terminal, and began writing a response to the High Chancellor. He'd known what he'd needed to say for quite some time now, but he'd lacked the courage to say it. He politely but firmly refused Kroth's offer, stating that he believed his place was on Exxar-One. If the Chancellor was willing to make the offer again in a year - or maybe two - then Kralin would willingly accept.
The major transmitted the communiqué, then shut off his terminal and blew out the candles. He stretched out on the couch, still in his uniform, and requested the computer to lower the lights to level one. His last thought before he drifted off was the look in Colonel Serehl's eye as he stared down the trio of pulser barrels, and the way his expression had hardened into defiant fury as he waited silently for Saveck, Hiller and Ranoss to pull their respective triggers.