by Lance Berry
Mara exhaled gently. “So. He’s really gone, then?”
“I’m sorry, honey. I used a medical dsp to track his cellular activity to a sub-atomic level. It’s absolutely confirmed that his body is beginning first stages of necrotizing. Nothing more can be done.”
Mara sat down on the bed and nodded slowly. She looked up at him, and there was no light shining within, from what the doctor could see. “I can’t do it, Ben. I can’t take command of the Horizon.”
Ben studied her carefully, never taking his eyes off her as he
reached behind him and snagged the chair resting beside the room’s singular table. He pulled it over and turned it backward, straddling it. “You’re only in the first stages of grief, Mara. You may not be thinking clearly, especially with all that you’ve gone through—”
Mara shook her head firmly. “I’m thinking as clearly as I can. You know my history, Ben. You, David and my father are the only ones who ever knew it all. You know what I’ve been through, what was done to me all those years ago. I’ve learned through experience how to push my way through pain and determine what needs to be done. I know that out of respect for both David and my own service record, they’ll offer me a promotion and ask me to take command of the ship. And I’m telling you, I am certain that I am in no shape now, nor will be in the near future, to do so.”
Ben pursed his lips and nodded slowly, now certain of the conviction behind her words. He thought it over, then asked, “But will you be comfortable serving as first officer under a new captain? ‘Cause if they don’t hand it to you, darn sure it’s going to someone else as soon as they can find a qualified candidate.
The Horizon’s too important to go without a commanding officer for long.”
Mara sighed and shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I’d have
to learn to live with it. I don’t really care—”
“Well, you’d better start caring.”
The doctor’s tone was firm, unyielding and surprisingly carried no sympathy for her within it. It got her attention.
“What do you mean?”
Ben crossed his arms over the back of the seat and placed his chin on them as he held her in a steely gaze. “I mean that whomever becomes our next captain, you’re going to have to learn to live with their command style. And just because you’re David’s widow now, that won’t give you the right to constantly question their every move or say ‘David would’ve done it this way’ when they come up with a plan you don’t agree with.
They’ll be the captain, you’ll still be first officer, and you’ll have to like it or lump it. The only other alternatives are to transfer to another ship, and it’ll just be the same deal, except it’ll be another ship…or retire from the military altogether. And while you may have thought about the latter option, the truth is that you’ve gone through too much in your life to simply walk away from it all, no matter the circumstances or how much pain you’re in. You’d never ever be happy in the private sector. We both know it.”
Mara unconsciously clutched the sides of the bed sheets tightly with her hands. It astonished her that Ben had cut through all the haze of her thoughts and delineated everything so clearly. “Wow. It’s been a while since you’ve had me in therapy. I’d almost forgotten how good you are.”
“I’m just trying to help you see all the options, sweetheart.”
Mara nodded slowly. “Then what do I do? You’re right…I hadn’t really thought about what it would be like to serve under
someone else. Just about not wanting to be in center seat. I…I don’t…” She trailed off and looked at Ben helplessly.
The doctor observed her a moment, then asked, “Why don’t you want to be captain? It’s what you’ve trained for half your life. I personally think you’d be good at it.”
Mara thought about it cautiously before answering. “I’d gotten used to serving as executive officer. There was a comfort zone serving with David, a level of contentment. I never thought I would need anything more. To a degree, I still don’t.
And to be honest, part of me just doesn’t want to take on the pressure of being responsible for more than nine hundred lives every day.”
Ben shrugged. “Well technically, as captain of Earth’s flagship, you’re responsible for a lot more than just nine hundred plus lives…but in all seriousness Mara, you have a responsibility to the crew that’s served with you and David for so long. Bringing a complete stranger in to be custodian of David’s legacy won’t exactly be an easy thing for them either.
With that uncertainty, there may be frictions between whatever new commander we receive and a crew whose faith is divided between the two of you. That’s not a good situation to bring any of us into.”
Mara closed her eyes and shook her head, uneasy with discussing all these possible futures. She opened her eyes and focused on Ben once more. “Then what’s the alternative?”
Ben unfolded his arms, letting them drape over the back of
the chair as he sat up a little straighter. “How about putting someone in the lead role who’s already aboard ship?”
“Who? Tanner? He’s a good security chief, and I know
David had a lot of respect for him, but—”
“No. I mean Lieutenant-Commander Rand.”
To her own surprise, Mara burst out into laughter. It was the first time she had done such a thing since David’s death, and she almost wanted to thank Ben for it, since she thought she’d never be able to do so again. Yet the doctor’s facial expression never changed; it remained dead serious, unflinching…and Mara slowly calmed herself as she realized he wasn’t joking in the slightest.
“You’re serious!” she said in disbelief. “Granted, Travis might have some good combat instincts, and he has learned a lot from being under David’s wing. But he’s an untested commodity, Ben…”
“He got us out of the incident with the Calvorians just a few
hours ago.”
“That was forty percent reasoning, sixty percent luck.”
“Bull. That was all him, whether you want to admit it or not.” Ben stood and pulled the chair closer to the bed, sitting in it properly as he locked eyes with her. “I heard him giving orders as you and I were leaving the bridge. He knew exactly what he was doing, and had a plan thought out on the fly. How many times has David done the exact same thing?”
“David planned every battle out before he ever entered the
arena,” Mara said defensively, somewhat angered that Ben would dare compare Rand’s skills with her husband’s.
“David was a hell of a captain, yes…but there were many times he had to adapt to the flow of combat, and that’s the truth. What Travis pulled off was nothing short of brilliant, and while part of it was due to the lessons David taught him, I’ll admit that much—the majority of what happened at Jupiter was all his.” The doctor began ticking off marks with his fingers as he continued, “He’s intelligent, courageous, a skilled tactician, believes in the cause, and a natural leader with charisma. He managed to pull an entire division of more than three hundred ships into line on his say-so! Seasoned captains with years of experience were following his orders, Mara! And with this maneuver he just pulled off, they’d be willing to follow his lead again. That’s exactly the type of captain the Horizon needs.”
Ben finally sat back to take a breath. His speech had revved him up and he needed the moment to calm himself.
Mara let go of the sheets and crossed her arms as she carefully considered his words. She hated the fact that in spite of the seeming absurdity of the idea, he was right as always.
“Even if I proposed that to General McKay—or any of the Joint Chiefs for that matter—they’d never go for it! We’d need something really good to offer them in exchange for just placing their trust in our say so.”
Ben nodded, and a thin smile appeared on his lips. “I have
an idea about that as well. Gotta warn you, though…it could
backfire on us both. I
n which case, we’ll have to decide what type of business we’re willing to go halves on in the private sector.”
Final Interim
Malcolm ‘Panther’ Edwards stood in the semi-darkened study of his house, the only light in the room cast by the large wall-mounted vid-com. On it, reports played on every single channel, relaying news of the death of David Christenson.
Panther had long since sent his sometimes-girlfriend Crissy packing, fed up with her until at least the next time the two decided they wanted to lay each other, and so stood alone as David’s face and career history took up the right side of the screen while reporters prattled on about his career statistics.
Panther went to a glass display case and opened one of the doors. He pulled out a two hundred year-old bottle of cognac and a short glass. He pulled the top, poured the liquid and brought the glass back to the vid-com, where he let out a long, laborious sigh.
“You fucking bastard,” he said sadly. “You even died better
than I probably will.”
He observed his old friend’s picture a moment, pleased that at least they chose a fairly decent image of him to represent. He held up the glass, and found his throat suddenly a bit constricted. “Here’s to you, mate. The best man I ever had the privilege of knowing. I love you, brother.” He took a long, slow drink, eventually emptying the glass. He then threw the glass into the fireplace, where it shattered against the wooden logs.
He sat down on the couch and watched the news, listening to the same reports over and over the rest of the night.
Chapter 40
“You want Lieutenant-Commander Travis Rand to take charge of the Horizon as its captain?” General McKay said in disbelief. He shook his head, stupefied. “I’m certain I couldn’t have heard that correctly.”
Mara and Ben were seated across the large oak table from General McKay, in the meeting room where she and the general had first met. She and Ben shared a neutral, don’t-show-the-hold-card type of look, then she locked eyes with the general.
“You heard everything I said correctly, General. Travis Rand should be promoted to captain of our ship.”
McKay leaned back in his chair, trying to form words, but nothing but short panted breaths of exasperation came out.
After a moment, he threw his hands up in exasperation.
“Why?”
“Because he’s the best man for the job, bar none,” Ben Williams spoke up. “In a time of crisis, when it looked like our fleet was on its last legs, Lieutenant-Commander Rand saw a glimmer of hope and snatched it out of the darkness. He came up with a brilliant and sound tactical stratagem which not only saved all of us, but every human being on Earth. That’s indisputable.”
McKay leaned forward once more, clasping his hands together as he continued to look at Mara and Ben in bafflement.
His fingers worked against each other anxiously. “No one’s disputing it, Doctor. I have to admit, it was a magnificent
turnaround—but just because he managed to pull off this one feat doesn’t mean he’s qualified to be a captain. And certainly not of Earth Force’s flagship, for God’s sake!”
“He was David’s protégé,” Mara chimed in. “David and I spoke often about how I didn’t want to be captain if something happened to him. He tried to convince me the Horizon should ‘stay in the family,’ so to speak. Travis is family, far as I’m concerned. Knowing I would never take over, David’s own choice was to be Travis. He was actually going to rewrite his will, officially requesting it of the Joint Chiefs, but never got the time. That’s all there is to it.” She felt a knot twisting in her gut at the lie, but she managed to pull it off convincingly. McKay unclasped his hands and rubbed one of them over his face, frustrated.
“Commander, I am not without sympathy to your pain. To Captain Christenson’s, I don’t know, let’s call it a ‘last wish,’ for lack of a better term. But I would honestly feel more confident if you were taking charge of the Horizon.”
“I won’t.”
“Then another captain will be assigned as soon as possible.
Cut and dried.”
“Then Ben and I will leave the service, effective
immediately.”
McKay blinked, amazed to himself that these two could say
anything more to surprise him. “What—?”
Mara pulled a dsp out of her jacket pocket and placed it on the table. She slid it over to McKay, who picked it up and read
it, his eyes widening in shock as he did so. “These are letters of resignation for both of you…”
“The Horizon should stay in the family,” Ben said evenly.
“We won’t follow anyone else’s orders,” Mara said flatly.
“It’s not out of disrespect or insubordination, but no one else will be able to come aboard that ship and work ably within the boundaries of the command synergy which has been built up among the senior staff. Ben and I have more than enough service credits rendered. We can tender our resignations and walk away from our posts today. Travis Rand is the successor David chose, and I stand by my husband…” She had to pause a moment; the image of the covered sheet in sickbay had placed itself in the forefront of her mind again. She shook her head, forcing it away, and focused on McKay once more. “Travis is the one, or we go.”
McKay regarded them silently a moment. A hard, angry frown darkened his features. He slid the dsp back to them.
“No. United Earth Force does not give in to blackmail.”
Without hesitation, Ben picked up the dsp and pressed his thumb to the faceplate. The device gave off an answering chirp, and a synthetic voice called out, “Resignation in place.
Williams, Benjamin T. Service number B-2478-G6-Epsilon.
Ranking officer Commander or higher needed to make resignation official.”
McKay had gone slack-jawed, staring at the doctor as if he had lost his mind. Mara was in awe that she was able to maintain her composure; Ben had said nothing to her about actually beginning the resignation process. He looked at McKay and said in an almost casual tone, “No one will miss me.
I’m darn good at what I do, but docs are somewhat replaceable You’ll have a hard time explaining both our resignations to the pressnets, by the way. And it’s not blackmail, General. It’s called following your convictions.”
Mara picked up the dsp and readied to press her thumb to it, prepared to cement Ben’s resignation. She looked at the doctor, then McKay. “I’m sure you’ll do the same for me, General.
After all, it’s the least you can do.” She lowered her thumb to the faceplate…
“STOP!”
Mara paused, her thumb hovering no more than a centimeter away from the plate. McKay had thrown his hands up in a ‘hold-off’ gesture. He lowered his hands to the table, and exhaled heavily. “I never, in all my years…the two of you have this much faith in the man?”
Both Mara and Ben nodded, the former smoothly moving her hand away from the dsp as she said, “The Horizon needs a man like Travis Rand in charge.”
McKay shook his head. He reached up, wincing slightly as he plucked a hair from atop and checked it. “Just wanted to see if it had gone grey yet.” He exhaled and shook his head again.
“I’m going to confer with the Joint Chiefs on this. The President wants to give Rand a medal personally, so unfortunately that will give your argument some clout.” He tucked his lower lip under his upper teeth, considering something. He nodded to himself, then narrowed his eyes as he held them in an unwavering gaze. “I’ll make a counterproposal. One that I think will give all parties what they want, to some degree. We’ll make Rand captain of your ship…but he’ll have to hold everything together for six months, solid. Not one major slip-up. If he does, he’s in to stay. If not, he gets reassigned, the Horizon gets a new captain, and the both of you are discharged from the service. And…neither of you can tell him anything about this arrangement. Not one damn word.