by Selby, Caleb
“How...how are you?” Fedrin asked, giving his best attempt to initiate personal dialogue.
Etana nodded promptly. “The Idok is functioning splendidly. All systems are operating within parameters and there is no news to report, Sir.”
Fedrin nodded awkwardly. “Glad to hear it. And you are doing ok?”
“Perfectly fine, Sir. What can I do for you?”
Fedrin nodded again as he struggled to gather his thoughts. He couldn’t bring himself to ask the question yet. “So what is Kumper like these days?”
Etana looked at Fedrin as if he were joking and then pulled up her data pad with a subtle roll of her eyes and began to skim a list. “Let’s see, finished stocking listening post eighteen last week. One of our recon drones found a mineral deposit in the asteroid ring orbiting McCabe VI the week before. We tagged it and sent the info to Asar Mining Industrial. Other than that, all’s been quiet here, just as it’s been for the last three months.”
Fedrin nodded and began to realize that they were not going to be rebuilding any bridges this time around. The thought grieved him, as he did not want his wife going to her almost certain doom without reconciling.
“I don’t mean to rush you Admiral, but I have a very important geological survey meeting coming up soon and I was hoping to make it,” she said with a subtle hint of sarcasm in her voice that only Fedrin could have picked up on. “Is there something specific I can do for you or are you just checking in?”
Fedrin shook his head. “I can’t go into all the details right now Etana, but I need you and your ship for a mission.”
“Oh?”
“It’s very complicated and very bad,” Fedrin added.
She nodded slowly. “So what can the Idok do to help, Sir?”
Fedrin sighed. She wasn’t going to make this easy. “Ok, here is the situation,” he said, himself now avoiding eye contact. “The Krohns have a battle fleet in system thirteen,” he stopped and breathed in deeply before continuing. “It is currently heading toward the Sibid System and likely the Voigt colony. In addition to the civilian lives in peril, there is a data device tucked away on the colony, which must be retrieved in order to secure the home world defenses. Now that the Second Fleet is gone...” Fedrin’s words trailed off.
Etana nodded as she quickly put the pieces together. “So this Krohn fleet must be stopped or else Voigt is going to be wiped out?”
Fedrin reluctantly nodded. “That’s essentially it,” he said, looking out the reflective surface of the porthole behind her. “If that fleet isn’t stalled and taken down to a manageable size, many of the Voigt colonists will die and the device may be lost which could lead to the loss of Namuh Prime itself.”
Etana looked at Fedrin with uncertainty in her eyes. “Fedrin,” she said, in her first hint of a personal tone. “I won’t be able to stop an entire Krohn Fleet with my one ship. We’re good but not that good.”
“I know,” Fedrin said softly. “I’m not asking you to take down the entire fleet. Just stall them and take out as many ships as you can while doing it.”
Etana’s eyes grew with understanding as she suddenly realized that she was receiving tactical suicide orders. It was a heavy moment.
“The more time you engage them, the less time they will be bombarding the colony. What’s left of my fleet will arrive at Voigt roughly four hours after the Krohn fleet arrives as it stands now. If the Idok could buy us even half that time, countless lives could be spared and our chances of finding the data device will be greatly increased.”
“I understand,” Etana said.
For a brief moment Fedrin caught a glimpse of something in Etana’s eyes that he didn’t understand. Was it regret? Remorse? Love? He couldn’t say. All he knew was that he missed her and wanted things to be like they had been.
“It wasn’t me,” Fedrin suddenly blurted out, referring to the incriminating photo that had acted as the catalyst for their separation.
“Not going there,” Etana said stiffly, the transient look in her eyes now gone.
Fedrin shook his head. “You know, maybe I haven’t always been there when you needed me Etana. In fact, I know I haven’t. My job has often come before you and I am sorry for that, I really am. But I want you to know, whether you believe me or not, that I have never been unfaithful to you! Never!”
Etana looked at Fedrin incredulously.
“Say something!” Fedrin demanded.
A moment passed before Etana spoke. “You are unbelievable Fedrin!” she snapped. “Unbelievable!”
“What do you mean?” Fedrin asked.
Etana shook her head and laughed unpleasantly. “You call me out of nowhere after three months of silence, give my crew and I suicide orders and then tack on an apology afterwards? Are you serious Fedrin? How am I supposed to take that? You want me to forgive you now so when I die your conscience won’t keep you up at night? Is that what you want Fedrin?”
Fedrin didn’t answer. He didn’t know what to say.
“If you were really sorry Fedrin, really truly sorry, you would have sent me a transmission the day after I moved out! You would have told me sorry for neglecting me, and that you really loved me! You would have told me that even though your responsibilities were paramount, you still cared about me!”
“I do care about you!” Fedrin yelled. “And I’ve told you I did!”
“You don’t just tell someone you care about them!” Etana shot back. “You show it! You live it! Talk is cheap, especially from you!”
Fedrin shook his head. “We’ve been through this before Etana! The Fleets are the only thing between us and destruction. They require my full attention.”
“Don’t give me that old line!” Etana snapped. “I know full well the importance of the Fleets. I do. But would it have killed you to send me a note saying hello every few months? Do you think you could have sent me a transmission on my birthday just to say ‘Hi?’ How about a note saying that you were alive after the Zelin battle last year? You act as if I don’t exist Fedrin but then get mad at me when I try to contact you to see how you are! I’m not a trinket you can put on a shelf when you are busy and take off when you want something. That’s not how a marriage is supposed to operate and that’s definitely not how I operate!”
Fedrin looked at Etana in a daze. Her speech was fast, full of emotion, and for the most part, true.
“Your job is tough Fedrin, I know,” Etana continued. “But I also know that there is time in even the worse day for yourself. And since we were a team, I thought that I was entitled to just a small portion of that time,” she finished and tears came to her eyes.
Fedrin sighed. “I don’t know what to say other than I am sorry. And while my timing is awful, you’re right that I didn’t want you undertaking this mission without knowing how I felt about you and without affirming one more time that that picture was not of me. If you choose not to accept my apology, there’s nothing I can do about it. It’s too little too late I’m afraid, but at least you know how I feel.”
Tears still flowed freely from Etana’s eyes as she slowly nodded. “I need to go,” she said as she wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve.
Fedrin nodded and then glanced about his desk as if making sure there was nothing he was forgetting. “I’m sending you all the logistical information we have on the enemy fleet and the optimal location for you to engage them.”
Etana nodded.
“I’m...I’m also sending you some recorded clips the telecast played after the dock explosions. They were only played locally so you haven’t seen them.”
Etana looked at Fedrin curiously.
“If you have time, review them. Not that I want to bring it back up, but the person in them appears to be me but isn’t. There may be a connection with that photo but I really don’t know. I just wanted you to see them.”
Etana glanced down at her data pad and watched as the files downloaded. She then looked to Fedrin and nodded. “I guess I’ll be seeing you then
,” she said.
“I guess so,” Fedrin said solemnly.
“Goodbye Fedrin,” Etana said with such finality that it seemed surreal to Fedrin.
“I love you,” was Fedrin’s reply but it was too late. Etana had already ended the link. His words echoed in his mind for sometime before he finally reached back at the tele-link screen.
“Lieutenant Kesler here.”
“Its me. Instruct all vessels that no more ship to ship travel is permitted.”
“Aye, Sir.”
“And have all ships accelerate to fifteen percent above maximum speed and remain in tight formation.”
“Will we be keeping the ships that hot for the duration of the trip?” asked Kesler.
“We have to,” Fedrin answered. “We’ve got a lot of distance to cover and not a lot of time to do it in.”
Kesler swallowed hard before continuing. “Sir, may I remind you that fleet regulations prohibit sustaining anything in excess of five percent over max speed?”
“If you haven’t noticed, we haven’t exactly been going by the book these last few days,” Fedrin answered.
Kesler shrugged. “Point taken, Sir. I’ll transmit your orders to the fleet at once.”
“I’ll be up there in a bit.”
“See you then,” answered Kesler and then turned to his station where he began inputting the orders.
“So, what happens when we run the ships too hot for too long?” Tarkin asked as he walked up behind Kesler, having overhead Fedrin’s orders.
“The core melts down and we all die horrible painful deaths,” Jonas answered from his perch at the weapon’s station.
“That’s if we’re lucky,” Kesler added.
“Lucky?” exclaimed Tarkin.
Kesler nodded. “Sometimes the radiation from the core just eats away at your internal organs making sudden death seem like paradise.”
“The thing is though, at the point where you want death, you’re too weak to actually kill yourself,” Jonas added as he walked down the steps from his station and leaned onto Kesler’s console.
Kesler shook his head. “So you just sit there and let the radiation eat away your body, hoping and praying that it will reach your heart or lungs to finish you off.”
“How long can this last?” Tarkin asked as he held his three pairs of arms casually, trying to look like he wasn’t nervous.
“It can last upwards of six days,” Jonas cheerfully added. “Six days of living death. It just doesn’t get better than that!”
The ship suddenly lurched forward as the new orders reached the engine room. Tarkin looked down at the console uneasily as he watched the power meter slowly pass from the recommended maximum toward the fifteen percent above mark.
Kesler nodded solemnly as he too watched the meter. “But Branci are bigger and stronger than Namuh. So it stands to reason that the radiation would take longer to kill you than us.”
Jonas nodded in agreement. “And in light of that, I’d appreciate it if, as a friend, you’d snap my neck or suffocate me should the situation arise.”
Tarkin looked at Jonas in disbelief and then to Kesler.
“Tarkin you don’t look so well,” commented Kesler. “Feeling ok?”
Tarkin nodded. “I think I just need to grab some lunch.”
“Go ahead,” Kesler said. “We’ll make do without you for a while.”
Tarkin nodded and then slowly made his way out of the bridge. As the doors closed behind him Jonas and Kesler turned to each other and began to laugh uncontrollably.
***
The setting sun silhouetted Darion’s figure as he looked out over Larep. The sky was painted in a myriad of soft orange and yellow hues that ushered in a peaceful end to a generally peaceful day. He soaked in the colors and breathed in deeply. His commanding view in the high priced, luxuriously furnished suite in the Freedom Tower was worth every taxpayer’s penny.
“The anti-air batteries will be set up behind the hover tank units and sharpshooters,” Jarvik said, pointing to a spot on a map of the arctic peninsula.
Darion nodded as he slowly walked away from his window and stood over the map sprawled over his desk. “And the infantry units?” he asked, feigning interest.
Jarvik nodded. “Several advanced engineer teams have already begun digging trenches and setting up laser dampening walls around the southwestern edge of the purposed landing site. The heavy infantry squads will occupy these forward positions here and here. Additional sharpshooters from the thirty-second airdrop battalion will set up in the high ground on the northeastern glaciers here and here.”
Darion nodded disinterestedly and casually walked away from the map yet again.
“We should have them in a nasty crossfire,” Jarvik commented as he made another notation on the map. “They won’t stand a chance.”
“It’s a good plan,” Darion said. “If I do say so myself.”
Jarvik scratched his head. “Begging your pardon, Sir, but this isn’t your plan, at least not the bulk of it. Most of the orders and notations came directly from Senator Trivis’ office.”
“Well the plan is good and I guess that’s all that really matters, right?” asked Darion rhetorically as he walked over to his desk and grabbed his data pad.
“Yes, Sir,” Jarvik answered wearily as he picked up the chart and started to roll it up.
“When will you be heading out?” asked Darion as he scrolled through screens aimlessly on the pad.
Jarvik slid the chart into a long tube and tightened the cap on one end. “I’ll be shipping out with the third hover tank division as soon as they’re ready to go.”
Darion nodded slowly, appearing lost in thought and losing interest in the pad momentarily.
“Everything ok General?” Jarvik asked.
Darion shrugged. “I hope so.”
“You don’t sound so sure about all this,” commented Jarvik.
“I’m not,” said Darion, surprising Jarvik with his answer who assumed Darion had stopped caring long ago. “I know I’m not a good general,” Darion then added. “I have no elusions about it. But sending away my army? Something just doesn’t feel right about it.”
“Can you change your mind?” Jarvik asked thoughtfully, himself having the same thoughts for much of the day.
Darion looked thoughtfully at Jarvik. “I’m really not sure. I seem to have been bought out by Trivis and the Defense Council. I feel that I owe them for what they’ve done for me.”
Jarvik nodded thoughtfully. “It may not be my place to say, Sir, but that doesn’t sound like a healthy place for you or your army to be in.”
Darion nodded, knowing that Jarvik spoke the truth but not wanting to hear it. “You’re right Jarvik,” he finally said.
“Sir?”
“It’s not your place to say,” said Darion sternly.
Jarvik nodded. “Apologies, Sir.”
“You better get going,” Darion then said. “You still have a lot to do. And I’d appreciate it if you keep your misgivings about this operation to yourself.”
“Yes, Sir,” Jarvik answered and then offered a salute before turning and walking out of the room.
Darion walked back to his window. He thought of many things ranging from the threatening Krohn invasion, to the attack plans carefully crafted to crush it once they landed and all the details in-between. He didn’t know how long he had been standing there when he heard a tap on his open door.
“I’m sorry General,” a woman’s voice spoke up as she stepped into his office.
Darion turned and looked at the lovely woman standing in his office and smiled. Her name was Reesa, a concierge of the Freedom Tower and personally assigned to Darion to assist him and his staff with the move. She was a lovely sight and therefore a major distraction for the playboy general that had every intention of asking her out the moment he felt he could get away with it.
“What can I do for you Reesa?” he asked, flashing his perfect smile in her direction.
>
“There’s a representative of the Larep Waste Management Services here to see you,” she answered with the same poise and professionalism she had expressed on every other occasion they had interacted. Darion smiled all the brighter, seeing her uptight composure as an alluring challenge and not as a deterrent.
“What should I tell him?” she asked.
Darion shook his head. “Tell him I’m busy talking to a beautiful woman.”
Reesa was unfazed. “What would you actually like me tell him, Sir?”
Darion laughed and then shook his head. “Whatever you’d like Reesa. Be creative.”
“He did say to mention that if you didn’t want to talk to him that I should mention something about Kespa. I didn’t really understand what he meant by that.”
Darion frowned and then shook his head.
“Do you want me to have security usher him out?”
“No, that won’t be necessary,” Darion said. “I don’t want to make a ruckus on our first day as tenants. Besides, we’re the army. We shouldn’t need private security guards right?” he said followed by a laugh.
“So what should I do?” Reesa asked once more, a subtle hint of impatience in her voice.
Darion sighed. “Send him in.”
“He’ll be right in,” she said and then turned to walk out of the room.
Darion’s eyes followed her graceful form as she left. He then shook his head and walked away from his window and waited near the door. As he waited thoughts of Kespa, the slum that he had grown up in, flooded his mind. Places where he had lived, things he had done, trouble he had gotten into, his first girlfriends, and so many other memories came and went in his mind. His fragmented thoughts were suddenly augmented a hundred fold when a familiar face entered the room.
He was dressed in a dark blue waste management jumpsuit that had holes in the knees and elbows. It was heavily stained by a wide variety of offending agents and a slight odor accompanied.
“Hello Darion...or should I say General?” the visitor spoke first and then smiled brightly.
“Hello,” Darion hesitantly said, not reciprocating the smile.
“You remember who I am, don’t you?” the man asked.