by Daniel Gibbs
“Hey, everyone,” Major Arthur Hanson, the ship’s chief engineer and certified reactor nerd said as he crossed under the hatch. Hanson, along with Ruth, had served with David for six months before their postings on the Lion of Judah.
“Nerds of a feather flock together,” Calvin said, seemingly always eager to poke fun at the technical members of the crew.
“Quit ragging on the nerds, Colonel!” Taylor called out from his perch in the back of the room. “One of the things I know for a fact is the comms geeks, as you put it, have saved your rear end more than once in your career.”
“Is that a fact?” Calvin asked, clearly amused.
“Yes, it is,” Taylor said in a smug tone.
“Yeah, whatever. Just remember who saves your ass from the League when they board the ship. How many more nerds did you invite to this shindig, Colonel? I mean, what’s next, the contractors show up?”
“Hey, you're talking about me, Colonel,” Kenneth Lowe, the program manager and leader of the three-hundred-strong contingent of defense contractors assigned to the ship; they implemented upgrades and assisted the engineering crew since there had been no time for the normal six- to nine-month workout cruise. “As long as you’re talking about me, it's all good.” David had taken a liking to the lanky contractor; he was over two meters tall and nearly hit every bulkhead on the ship.
“Keep thinking that while we make fun of you behind your back,” Calvin said as he smirked. “Hey, could you go get me a cable stretcher?”
“Really? You’ll have to try harder than that to get me off on a snipe hunt, Colonel.”
“I got taken in by that one when I was right out of boot camp,” David said to shocked stares from everyone in the room.
“Surely you’re kidding, sir?” Amir asked.
“Nope,” David said, shaking his head sadly. “I wandered around the ship I was posted to for two hours looking for that thing. I eventually ended up on the bridge, asking the CO for it.” There were chuckles and laughter from everyone in the room; David could still remember how red his face turned when Major Pipes told him that there was no such device. “I got my revenge on the guy that put me up to it, though. I sold him on looking for a CGA display adaptor for one of the monitors that had shorted out.”
“A what?” Hanson asked.
“Some five-hundred-year-old monitor technology that no one knows about except for some teacher I had in high school that berated us for not answering a question about it right in a technology history class,” David said, smirking. “I never forgot it, thanks to his outburst.”
“Maybe we should try to get someone to go get us a bucket of shuttle wash,” Kenneth mused, to more laughter.
“I can’t believe people fall for that one,” Ruth said.
“Best response I ever got to that was a private bringing me a bucket of cleaning solution that we use on the fighters’ stealth coatings. I was mildly impressed,” Hasan interjected. “Still told him that wasn’t right and sent him off to the next pilot, who supposedly had some.”
“We could always get the contractors off the ship and get qualified military engineers,” Calvin said, returning to his previous line of jest.
Kenneth leaned forward in his seat, a smug smile on his face. “Qualified military engineers… I didn’t realize the Marines had engineers.”
“Marines don’t have engineers because engineers build targets. Marines blow up targets,” Ruth said, laughing as she did.
“I don’t see you guys hating on Marines when you need your butts saved,” Calvin groused good-naturedly.
Kravitz coughed loudly. “Ahem. Perhaps we’re getting off track, yes? We’re all here to enjoy fellowship and the lighting of the menorah.”
“Exactly, Rabbi,” David said, steering the conversation toward a friendlier path. “I think it's about time for us to get started.”
“Yes, it is,” Kravitz agreed. “Everyone, please take your seats as we prepare to honor the miracle of oil after the temple was liberated and cleansed through the ritual of Hanukah,” he continued as he walked around and lit the middle candle of the menorah, which sat above the rest. “This is called the shamash candle; it is the keeper candle, and if another should go out, we use this one to relight it.”
David watched, thinking back to his childhood. Dad lighting the menorah was so much fun. He’d tell the story of the Maccabees and try to impress Mom with his knowledge. It never worked either. He smiled, the memory fading in his mind.
“Now I will pray the traditional prayer of blessing for the menorah, and you may all join in as you can,” Kravitz said before launching into the Hebrew prayers; David spoke Hebrew fluently and knew them by heart himself. “Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the universe, who has sanctified us with His commandments and commanded us to kindle the Hanukah light. Bless are You, Lord our God, King of the universe, who performed miracles for our forefathers in those days, at this time. Bless are You, Lord our God, King of the universe, who has granted us life, sustained us and enabled us to reach this occasion.”
David reflected on the words of the prayer, pondering the meaning they had today. Today, we need the same miracle to sustain us in this fight and ensure the light of our people will not perish from the face of the galaxy. I wonder how the soldiers all those years ago, who kept winning against a more numerous foe, felt. The pattern keeps repeating itself.
Kravitz, who still held the shamash candle, used it to light the further candle to the left, before returning it to its place in the center of the menorah. He stepped back and turned around, smiling from ear to ear. “And now, it is time for us to enjoy the light of the menorah, the light of our friends and extended family, and their company this evening. Ruth, get us started!”
Ruth stood up from her place at the table and began to pass out dreidels to everyone present.
David took his with a nod of thanks while grinning from ear to ear. This was how life should be enjoyed—in the company of our friends and comrades.
2
Ruth stepped out of the wardroom around midnight to head back to her quarters. She was mildly startled to find Angie right behind her. “Ms. Dinman, heading back to your quarters?”
“Angie, please. Ms. Dinman is my mother,” Angie replied, trying to break the ice.
“I tend to be formal around the press.”
“I’m not always the press, as you put it.”
“You’re not always taking notes on us to put in your reports?” Ruth asked in a skeptical tone.
Angie shook her head. “No.”
Ruth continued to walk down the passageway, Angie side by side with her. “I apologize. I’m not the biggest fan of your network. I shouldn’t translate that dislike onto you without cause.”
“You’re not the only one, trust me. I don’t think anyone on this ship I’ve met likes my network, or me, for that matter.”
“Kind of makes you wonder how GNN stays in business if it’s so disliked.”
“That’s an over-generalization, Ruth. There’s plenty of people who watch us religiously. We’re normally tied for second, sometimes third overall.”
“I don’t know anyone that watches your holobroadcast without screaming at the talking heads,” Ruth said with a chuckle.
“Look, I get it. The military doesn’t like us holding their feet to the fire.”
Ruth stopped, and her eyes drilled into Angie. “I don’t mind having our feet held to the fire. Someone has to watch the watchers. What I do mind is seeing one of your pundits try to destroy the reputation of one of the finest commanders in the fleet.”
Angie stopped walking and turned back to Ruth. “I take it you mean Colonel Cohen?”
“Yes.”
“Fifty thousand people work for GNN. I’m not the one who did the interview you’re referring to. I’m just trying to do my job and tell the truth.”
Ruth wore a frown; her emotions were bubbling to the surface. “How about telling the truth about the League?”
/> Angie crossed her arms in front of her. “Lieutenant, I do tell the truth about the League. Angie Dinman, the person, hates the League of Sol and everything they stand for. Angie Dinman, the reporter, tells exactly what happens, without cheerleading, without embellishment. You know, I want to find a friend here—someone who doesn’t look at me and see some jerk reporter. I live with you people. I want you to win. Maybe someone on this damn ship will meet me halfway.” Angie turned on her heel and began to walk away quickly.
“Wait!” Ruth called out, suddenly red in the face and feeling ashamed of her behavior.
Angie took a few more steps before stopping and turning around. “Yes?”
“I’m sorry, Angie.” Ruth began to walk closer. “I shouldn’t have acted like that.” She looked down the passageway, past Angie. “‘I was a stranger, and you welcomed me.’”
“I don’t follow.”
“Something I read this week from the Bible.”
“The Bible? I didn’t think Jews read the Christian holy book.”
“They don’t, usually. It’s a long story. You know what? I could use a friend too. What do you say?” Ruth stuck out her hand.
Angie shook Ruth’s hand. “Works for me.”
The two of them resumed walking down the passageway, side by side. “I apologize for biting your head off. I’m pretty stressed out lately.”
“Why?”
“Our battle rhythm is very fast-paced right now. The Lion is on a two-week stand down to perform an engineering review of our anti-matter reactor and get some new pilots. Before that, we were in combat daily. That kind of pace wears on everyone.”
“We’ve suffered a lot of causalities in the last two months,” Angie commented.
“I try to read the list of names when it comes over, every day,” Ruth replied, momentarily shutting her eyes.
“It’s a lot of names.”
“Someone should read them. Someone should remember. I remember them every time I destroy another League ship. I remember my parents, my friends. Never again.” A tear slid down Ruth’s face as she spoke. “Okay, let’s change topics because I’d like to be happy for just a few minutes.”
Angie offered her a small smile. “It’s been tough to find something to think of, to reflect on, besides this war.”
“It’s been my life for far too long.”
“Got any plans for what you will do when you get out?”
“Can’t say that I do,” Ruth replied. “This is all I’ve known for most of my life. Even if I did get out, what would I do? Expert level qualifications at killing Leaguers isn’t exactly going to put my resume at the top of the pile.”
“On the bright side, there’s a free education once you get out. That’s how I put myself through college for a journalism degree.”
“Yeah… I can’t think about it, Angie. I only have the here and now. Beyond next week, I can’t see it. What about you?”
“Oh, you know… build out my career, get married, have some kids. What normal people do, right?”
“Normal is a setting on a washing machine,” Ruth said with a smirk on her face. “It’s one I don’t have.”
“What do you do for fun, then?”
“What’s fun, exactly?”
“Girl stuff?”
Ruth stopped and looked at Angie. “Girl stuff? I’m a military officer. I don’t have time for getting my nails done, my hair colored, or wine and cheese tastings. If that’s what you want in a friend, you’ll have to look elsewhere.”
Angie furrowed her brow with a frown. “Anyone ever tell you that you're incredibly intense?”
“Yeah. It’s why I don’t have many friends,” Ruth said as she sighed. “Again, I’m sorry. It's not your fault, and I’ll try to do better on not biting your head off.” I do need a friend or two. The way I’m going through life is no way to live. On top of that, it’d be nice to be friends with someone who isn’t in the military and has perhaps a different perspective on life.
“I get told I have resting grumpy face a lot.”
Ruth laughed. “Yeah, me too.”
The two of them resumed walking down the passageway, laughter echoing through it. Ruth considered for a moment that perhaps she had found a new friend; for a brief moment, the idea made her happy.
After helping clean up the mess and leftovers from the festivities, David found himself back in his quarters, sitting on his couch. Since the Lion of Judah was off station and undergoing repairs and refitting, he was able to sleep in the large stateroom, really a suite, rather than the cramped day cabin on deck one that doubled as a sleeping space and office. I’ve been saving up my commlink credits. Let’s see if Mom is still awake. I’m sure she will be. After a few rings, Sarah Cohen’s smiling face appeared on the screen.
“Happy Hanukkah, David! Oh, it’s so nice to hear your voice and see you!” Sarah exclaimed.
“Happy Hanukkah to you too, Mom. I’m sorry it’s been a month since we talked. I’ve been saving my credits, though, so we could talk today. I wasn’t sure if you could pick up or not.”
“Well, technically, the light of the menorah is still burning, so I shouldn’t… but I couldn’t go without talking to my baby.”
David grimaced a bit. “Mom, I’m not a baby.” I wish she’d quit referring to me like that… I’m almost forty!
“You will always be my baby boy,” Sarah insisted. “My only son.”
“How are you doing?” David replied, determined to change the subject.
“Oh, I’m holding up well. You’re still all over the news, you know. All my friends do is talk about it. David did this, David did that.”
“I suppose that’s to be expected when I’m commanding the largest warship in the Terran Coalition,” he said with a grin. “It’s quite the posting.”
“I still worry for you, more than you know.”
“Mom, I know. But you know what? I’m probably on the safest post I could be, aside from assigned to station duty.”
“Did you have a good Hanukkah?”
“I did,” David answered. “Many of the Jewish officers joined me, along with the rabbi and some gentiles who wanted to celebrate with us. We had a good time.”
“Are any of those Jewish officers cute girls, by any chance?”
Ugh, Mom. Stop trying to get me married off to a nice Jewish girl and pump out kids. “Well, as a matter of fact, some of them are women. However, as I’m sure you know… I’m the commanding officer of the ship. I can’t fraternize with anyone under me.”
“You need to get married.”
“Why, because I’m getting old?”
“No, because I want to hold a grandchild before I die,” Sarah replied, her voice breaking a little at the end.
“Mom…you’re not even seventy. You’ve got half your life in front of you.”
“Only Adonai knows how many days either of us has left, son. I take nothing for granted.”
“In my line of work, Mom, I can’t focus on it. What will happen, will happen. I’ve got to do the best I can in the meanwhile,” David replied, annoyance creeping into his voice.
“Just find a nice girl and start dating her.”
“Mom… we’ve been over this. I’m not getting married until I’m out of the service.”
“Why?”
David fought down anger; he’d had the same conversation with his mother only God knew how many times. “Because it’s not fair for me to leave a wife and children behind if I die on the battlefield.” He instantly regretted the directness of his words.
Sarah began to cry; the usual outcome of this particular conversation. “I can’t lose you…”
“I’m sorry, Mom,” David said, closing his eyes and hanging his head. “Look, I’m not going anywhere. I’m too stubborn for the League to kill.”
“Promise?” Sarah asked between sobs.
“I promise,” David answered, wanting more than anything just to run away from the conversation.
“You know I’m p
roud of you, don’t you?”
“Of course I do,” David said. “You know I’m proud of you too?”
“For what?” Sarah asked, surprise in her voice.
“For carrying on after Dad died. For molding me into the man I am, and instilling your values into me. Without your guidance and teaching, who knows where I would’ve ended up? It's not easy being an Orthodox Jew. It’s even harder to be a single mother and an Orthodox Jew.”
Sarah started to cry again, but now she was smiling. “Hearing you say that means so much to me.”
A few tears rolled down David’s face. “I’ve been working on trying to share my emotions.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“What’s next for you?”
“You know I can’t say, Mom. Loose lips sink ships and all that.”
“Your father used to say that.”
“Where do you think I got it from?” David replied, grinning.
“Are you going to be home any time soon?”
“I don’t know, Mom,” David said as he shrugged his shoulders. “But if I am and can get planetside, I promise I’ll come to see you. Nothing beats your home cooking.”
“Oh, so you only come to eat?” Sarah asked in a faux annoyed tone.
“Well, no. But it's hard to find kosher cooking around here. I’m stuck eating kosher meals-ready-to-eat most of the time.”
“How the military got that drivel declared kosher, I’ll never know. It’s an affront to God.”
David laughed. “I have a confession. I look forward to the pre-packaged religious meals running out. Then I can get some real food without breaking the law.”
“Don’t tell that to the rabbi!” Sarah said, laughing hard as she spoke.
“I’m almost out of credits, Mom.”
“Thank you for calling me.”
“Every time I’m able. I love you, Mom.”
“I love you too, son. Come home safe.”
“I’ll do my best. Shalom!” David said as the commlink disconnected from lack of remaining credits. Setting the tablet aside, he sat back and put his feet up. There’s a part of me that misses her badly, and there’s a part of me that’s sick of being told I need to get married and produce kids. I suppose family is just messy. The truth is, I wouldn’t mind having a family. I just can’t put them through what we went through. That fate isn’t fair to those left to pick up the pieces. Though I wonder if I use that as a way to hide. If my father had thought like that, I would have never been born. He fell asleep on the couch, still pondering that line of logic.