After a few moments, Doc looked at her, his eyes holding a naughty look. “We’re in a world of trouble now, Welles,” he said softly.
She smiled back. “You’ve got a great poker face. I have faith in you.”
He smiled. “And your poker face?”
She thought about it briefly. “It’s only good when you’re not around.”
Doc dropped his smile a little, “Well, like I said. We’re in a world of trouble now.”
*
Harris stood in the Service Hall of the UNF Command building. It was 0920. He was alone and very glad about it. He’d purposely come early so that he could have this time alone. He walked up to the front of the hall and looked at the four coffins lining the elevated stage area. Four men, he thought. Four men who trusted me to guide them on this mission. Four men who followed me into space to do their duty. Four men who didn’t make it home because I did not know what we were up against. Four men who I will always be responsible for.
He walked up to each coffin and looked at the framed photo adorning it. It was their official UNF enlistment photo, and each soldier looked proud to be wearing his uniform. Bolkov was not smiling in his, but he held a twinkle in his eye. Louis looked proud, sitting upright, chest out, a sly grin on his lips. Carter was cool, calm and collected, ready for business. Smith’s young face looked proud and eager, as if looking forward to all the possibilities which lay ahead of him as a member of the UNF.
Harris sighed. He felt that tightness in his chest again that had nothing to do with his ribs. He was going to miss them. They’d each added a piece of themselves that had made life on the Aurora what it was. Even Carter and Louis, who tried him at times. He was going to miss their mischief. He was going to miss Smith’s youthful curiosity, always watching carefully, wanting to soak up his experience. And he was going to miss Bulk’s sturdy silence, graceful nodding and absent stares.
He slowly walked back and sat down in the front row of chairs. He continued to stare at their photos, trying to fight that crushing feeling in his chest.
Our last quiet time together, gentlemen. But don’t think this is the end. You will not be forgotten.
*
Carrie looked in the mirror. She tried to focus her mind on what she had to do that morning. From the moment she had woken, however, all she could think of was Doc, and last night.
She’d stayed with him for several hours. After their first encounter they lay there looking at each other, their minds thinking a thousand thoughts in the silence, until finally her stomach had rumbled, breaking the spell.
Doc had laughed, flashing his pearly white smile. “Worked up an appetite, Welles?” he said, running the backs of his fingers across her belly.
She’d blushed awkwardly. “I, er, forgot to eat dinner.”
“You forgot?”
“I had other things on my mind,” she said, looking at him keenly.
“You want me to get something from room service?”
“But what if someone finds out?”
“I had a burger down the road with Brown earlier. One meal on room service we can get away with,” he’d said, as he reached over for a menu.
He ordered and she ate, then afterwards lay back down, snuggling against him, feeling the safest and most content than she had in days, like the Darwin was a lifetime away. She ran her hand over his chest, sliding it slowly down to his belly and traced her fingers over the two scars that ran across it.
“How’d you manage these?” she asked curiously.
“That one,” Doc said, pointing to the longer one that ran across the left side of his belly, over to his side, “I actually got on McKinley’s first mission on the Aurora.”
“McKinley cut you?”
“No. He saved me. Well, him and Harris both.”
“What happened?” she asked, eyeing the scar curiously.
“It’s a long story, that ends with me being stuck on my own trying to take on two guys and failing miserably. McKinley took one of the guys out from down the corridor and Harris took care of the other one … er … personally.”
Carrie looked from the scar to Doc. “So who looks after the medic when he’s cut?”
“Carter stitched me up. Not bad, huh?”
“Carter?”
Doc nodded. “Yeah, he helped me out from time to time. He had good steady hands and he wasn’t fazed by blood as much as the other guys. If it had been my leg or something I would’ve taken care of it myself, but this I couldn’t. I was lucky though; it bled a lot but didn’t actually go too deep. It was mainly just a surface wound.”
Carrie looked at the smaller scar. “And what about this one?”
“This one,” he gave her a serious look, “is interesting. I got it when I was 24. I’m eating lunch one day and BOOM … my appendix burst.” He broke into a cheeky grin, and she playfully hit him. He rolled over on his side to face her.
“You, on the other hand, are rather scar free,” he said, running his hand up her thigh, over her hip and resting it on her waist.
“Almost …” she said, touching the side of her face where Logan had hit her.
He studied her face then looked back down at her body. “I like the fact that you don’t have a soldier’s body, Welles.” He ran his eyes back up to her face then he leaned in and kissed her. It started soft and warm but it soon heated up, which led them to discover each other for the second time.
Afterwards they lay there again quietly, but this time they’d fallen asleep. Carrie awoke later to Doc shaking her shoulder gently.
“Welles, wake up.”
She was lying on her side and he was behind her. She turned her face toward him. “Hmm?” she said sleepily.
“It’s 3 a.m. We fell asleep. I don’t want to kick you out, but if Brown or Packham see you …”
Carrie nodded. “I know. I’ll go,” she said quietly, still half asleep.
“Sorry,” he whispered, resting his hand on her waist.
She took his hand and pulled it in to her chest, hugging it, moving him closer to her. He gently kissed her shoulder, and they lay there, cuddling, awaking. After a few moments, he began to nuzzle her neck and his hand began to caress her chest. She turned her face to his again and they kissed. Before too long, they were exploring each other yet again.
“I guess I really should go now,” she eventually said, when they’d recovered. She leaned over and kissed him, then slid off the bed and started searching for her clothes on the floor. When she was dressed, she looked back at him. He had been watching her quietly.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess,” she said softly.
“No … you’ll see me in a few hours,” he said, looking at his watch.
“Oh, right!”
He looked at her, and his eyes had a tinge of concern to them.
“I’ll wear my best poker face. I promise,” she told him.
He smiled.
“Okay,” she said taking a deep breath and heading for the door.
“Wait,” he said getting up off the bed and quickly throwing his trousers on. He walked over to the door, opened it, and leaned out to check out the hallway. It was clear. He came back in, cupped her face and kissed her quickly. Then he opened the door wider and she stepped out. She threw him a quick glance over her shoulder, and quickly walked away.
And now she was about to see him again. She took one last look at her reflection in the mirror then shut her eyes tightly. She felt guilty for feeling so good.
She concentrated hard on where she was going this morning. She thought about the fact that she was about to pay her respects to the four soldiers she watched die. She heard Sharley’s and Logan’s last words ring through her ears again. And it made her shake to think just how easily she could’ve been one of them.
32
The Vicar
Harris heard a noise behind him and turned to see a woman in uniform make her way down to the lectern and test the
microphone. He looked at his watch. 09:40. He stood and headed out the door into the autumn sunshine of Fort Centralis to await his soldiers. Within minutes, Doc, Brown and Packham arrived. Harris greeted them with a nod.
“Morning, captain,” Doc said.
He eyed Doc and Brown carefully. “How many drinks you have last night?”
“We left The Vicar after two, captain,” Doc answered, looking him in the eye, then quickly averting his glance.
Harris arched his eyebrow, scanning his lieutenant’s face. Doc looked back at him and held his stare. Harris was satisfied. He believed him. He looked over at Packham and studied her next. He considered speaking with her now about her future on the Aurora, but he suddenly noticed some of the relatives of his dead soldiers begin to arrive.
“Excuse me,” he told his crew, as he made his way toward them.
*
Carrie entered the Service Hall and immediately saw the four coffins lined along an elevated platform, each draped with their country of origin’s flag. She swiftly turned her eyes away from the stark stab of reality, and scanned the people in the room. Other than the Aurora crew and a few other UNF personnel, there was a sprinkling of civilians, who, she assumed, were the relatives of the dead. Seeing them sent another stab through her chest, as she thought of her father having to do this.
She glanced around for Doc and saw him talking with an attractive blond woman. His hand was on her shoulder, comforting her. Carrie wondered who she belonged to. Smith? A sister maybe?
Packham and Brown were already seated in one of the rows, so Carrie joined Colt in making their way down to them.
“Miss Colt,” Brown said, standing up to help her in beside him.
“How you doing, Mr Brown?” she asked quietly.
“I been better,” he said flatly.
Carrie joined Hunter in the row behind, and looked around for the others. McKinley, on his crutches, made his way over to Doc and the blond woman, who turned and immediately hugged McKinley and began to quietly cry. McKinley looked awkwardly at Doc, not quite sure what to do, as he tried to stand on his crutches and hug the crying woman at the same time. Doc gently encouraged her to let McKinley go, taking her by the shoulders and sitting her down in one of the rows. As McKinley sat down beside her, Doc rested his crutches at the end of the row, and glanced around the room. His eyes fell on Carrie’s and he gave her a subtle nod. His face was soft, but his eyes intense. She gave him a subtle nod back, trying to fight off thoughts of their evening together.
They sat in silence while the remainder of those gathered took their seats. Carrie scoured the faces of those she did not know. There was a balding, stocky man with a serious face; a large dark-skinned woman with a look of anger in her eyes; the attractive blond, and a couple of other UNF soldiers in uniform. She then spotted Senior Officer Edgely’s face in the crowd, staring at her. He gave a slight nod. She nodded in response, then suddenly looked down into her lap, as a thought occurred to her. Was Edgely the friendly face her father had organized? She looked back over at him, but he’d turned his eyes away.
Doc and Harris took a seat in the front row, and a UNF soldier she’d not seen before took to the lectern. He introduced himself as Major Babcock, and advised those gathered that it was his duty to preside over the brief ceremony today. He opened with a traditional spiel about how it was a sad day to have to farewell good soldiers who had perished in the line of duty. He went on to say how the UNF felt the loss deeply, how those gathered would feel it tenfold, and how soldiers put their life on the line for mankind every single day. He hit the right notes, talking about how they helped those in need, those in trouble, and that they helped to capture those who threatened everything we hold dear: our way of life, our freedom, our safety. Finally, he announced that the UNF was officially releasing the bodies of these four heroic soldiers back into the custody of their loved ones, so that they could go home and rest in peace. He then asked those gathered to take a moment to remember the fallen, after which one of the uniformed soldiers stood and began to play an emotional, soulful tune on a trumpet.
The song filled the silence in the hall with a loneliness and sadness that made Carrie’s heart feel heavy. When the song came to a close, the major nodded to two of the other soldiers in the crowd, who stood and proceeded to march over to Bolkov’s coffin, positioning themselves one each side.
Harris stood and joined Babcock on the podium. Carrie listened as the major gave a brief speech about each of the fallen, and then she watched as the two unknown soldiers folded the relevant flag, and marched it over to Harris. She felt sorry for the captain, who then had the unenviable task of handing the flag to the dead soldier’s relative and saluting them.
The service didn’t appear to be following seniority as Bolkov was the first “released”. The flag of the Russian Federation was handed over to his brother Pieter. The stocky, balding man stood, face rigid, and walked over to Harris. He looked a little similar to Bolkov in the face, with his five o’clock shadow, but although he was stocky, he was a much shorter, smaller version of his brother. Harris handed him the flag and saluted. Bolkov’s brother showed no emotion, much like Bolkov himself. He looked at Harris, then returned to his seat, avoiding eye contact with everyone else in the room.
Next they released Louis. The two soldiers folded the French flag and marched it over to Harris, who awaited Louis’s mother; Patrice-Marie Louis. The dark skinned woman stood, holding herself straight and moved over to Harris. As he handed her the flag and saluted, she held her head high and defiant, staring Harris in the eye. She turned around and flashed the same defiant look at the Aurora team, then walked over to her son’s coffin. She picked up Louis’s framed picture and held it tightly against her chest, as she rested her free hand on the wood for a moment, then bent down, kissed it and returned to her seat, taking the photo with her.
Carter was the one they released next, and Carrie was shocked when the major announced that his fiancée had come to collect his body. She’d had no idea Carter was engaged to be married. He’d hidden it well with all his talk. She watched, stunned, as the attractive blond stood shakily with the help of McKinley’s arm. She walked over to Harris and accepted the South African flag. As the captain saluted her, she began to cry again, shooting out her hand to hold onto Harris’s shirt. The captain darted his eyes over her shoulder to Doc, who stood and gently ushered her back to her seat.
At that point Carrie felt a lump begin to grow in her throat. It was harder than she thought it was going to be. To see one brother say goodbye to another, a mother say goodbye to her son and a fiancée say goodbye to her future … she looked around the room and tried to see who was there for Smith.
Again, Carrie was shocked when the major announced that Captain Harris had been nominated at Smith’s next of kin. She glanced around the room in disbelief, then back at the stage and saw the British flag presented to Harris. He saluted the soldier who gave it to him. No-one had come to claim Smith’s body. He’d had no-one but his ship’s captain. She felt her eyes well up with tears, as she looked at Smith’s picture on his coffin. Her vision blurred, and she quickly blinked it clear, as the tears rolled down her cheeks. She quickly wiped them away, as Hunter glanced over at her, stony faced.
Major Babcock proceeded to launch into his closing speech, then. He talked of thoughts and prayers going out to the families of the deceased, as well as to those injured and recovering from their mission. He left the podium and walked to Harris and shook his hand, and people began to stir. Carrie watched as Doc stood and shook the major’s hand as well. Her eyes drifted past them and onto the picture of Smith again, and then onto Carter’s and Bolkov’s, which caused another tear to roll down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away, locking eyes with Doc as she did.
Hunter glanced over at her again, and motioned with his head for her to get up. “C’mon, let me out of here.”
She walked out into the Centralis sunshine to wait for the other
s. It was a beautiful day with clear blue skies and a gentle breeze that brought with it the smell of the ocean. She thought of how it was the stark opposite to the cold, dark of space, and couldn’t help but think about how those four soldiers would never get to see this again. She suddenly thought of Edgely again and began to scan her eyes over the gathered crowd, seeking him, wanting to know more. But he was nowhere to be found.
*
Harris noted that the Aurora team waited outside until the families had left. It was respectful of them. It had been hard speaking to the relatives, looking them in the eye, knowing that this shouldn’t have happened, and worse still being unable to give them any details about their loved one’s death, but he knew it had to be done. He had to keep up appearances for the UNF’s sake, and the Aurora’s.
He got very little out of Bolkov’s brother. He was even more silent than Bulk himself, but he did get a nod and brief look in the eye. It was acknowledgment enough.
Louis’s mother had been quite vocal. She was a proud woman, protective of her son, and she’d been very blunt, stating that this should not have happened to him, how Louis had deserved better. Harris could only agree with her. She made it clear that she did not blame him, but that she would never forgive the UNF for this. He understood her anger, he felt it himself.
Carter’s fiancée was not angry. She hadn’t reached that stage yet. She was still caught in the devastation. Harris had spoken with her briefly and passed on his condolences, and she managed to hold it together until Doc had approached them. Harris thought it best to leave her in the care of Doc and McKinley, who both knew her a little better. There had been times over the last year or so, when they’d caught up with Carter outside the ship on leave. So they were better placed to provide her with the support she needed to get through the service.
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