by Lance Berry
The doors to sickbay opened, and Travis had to squint a moment as his eyes adjusted to how bright these walls were, as opposed to the usual muted grey of the light reflecting off the ship’s metal halls. There were many beds holding injured crewmen, and several with white sheets draped over still bodies. More injured were being brought in, constantly it seemed, and the med techs were so busy they didn’t even notice Travis as he walked thru the sickbay, searching for Ben and Mara.
He headed to the rear, past Ben’s office. He saw Mara and Ben standing alone beside a bio-bed. There was a white sheet draped across an unseen body which could only have been David’s. Mara had stopped crying, and was wiping away the last of her tears as Ben held her at arm’s length, his hands resting lightly on her shoulders as he spoke to her gently. She nodded several times in silent response to what he was saying, and then caught a glimpse of Travis waiting silently, patiently, a few feet away. She turned and half-walked/half-ran to him, and he wrapped his arms around her to hold her close. It was only then he realized that she was comforting him as he broke down, tears streaking his face as she pulled his head forward to rest on her shoulder. They stayed like that for a long while.
Chapter 37
Tanner Matthews was among the injured, and so was soon laid up in sickbay with thermetic bone shifters slowly setting his leg and arm back in place. During the battle, his console had begun to overload in the same manner as had Lieutenant Donahue’s. Matthews realized what was happening though, and managed to cheat death by leaping aside before the tactical console blew. But in his swiftness to dodge, he slammed hard against another nearby console and rebounded off of it to the deck, where he broke his arm, fractured his leg and was rendered unconscious. When he awoke in sickbay and heard of David’s death, he was nearly inconsolable. He had served with the captain aboard the Victory, and was promoted to the post of security chief and brought over by him when David was assigned to the Horizon. Doctor Williams tended to his
wounds, but also left him alone a bit to deal with his grief. The fleet returned to Earth where several of the captains in Alpha squad were debriefed, along with Mara. Hers was an unusual debriefing, for it took nearly a full day, when most of the other captains’ took only a couple of hours. When Mara finally signaled her ship, it was only to request that Ben Williams head down to UEF’s main headquarters in Washington to join her in a second debriefing session. To his surprise, Travis was left in charge of the ship, which was to remain in orbit until whenever the two senior officers returned. With the enemy having retreated back to their own space and the other Heavy Cruisers deploying to either other engagements or repair facilities at the Hephaestus Shipyards, there wasn’t much to do except oversee whatever internal repairs could be made to the ship free space. Having dumped the spare outer repair materials during Travis’ maneuver, any touchups to the outer hull would have to wait until the Horizon could find time to make it to Hephaestus.
After nearly two days, Mara finally contacted the ship. She was brief and to the point; Travis was to head down to UEF headquarters in full dress uniform at once. He didn’t ask why…instead he had the inorganic recycling plant fit him for a full dress, since he didn’t own one. As he changed in his quarters, he figured that full dress probably included whatever medals he might have won, since that was what he’d seen officers wear whenever there was an official function. He neatly snapped his Medal of Valor and Purple Heart onto his uniform just above his heart and left Arroyo in charge of the ship, a position in which she had become slightly more comfortable while helping him oversee repairs.
Travis took a DFC planet side, and marveled at how easily his piloting skills for the smaller vessel came back to him, considering how long it had been since he’d been behind the stick. As he entered the atmosphere and soared low above Washington, he took a brief look around; not much of the architecture had changed from the design it held in the 21st Century, or even those years before. The stately columns of the capitol building and Lincoln Memorial stood erect as always, and a portion of the Washington Monument still pointed proudly into the sky. He glanced off to the east where nearly four hundred miles away, the dark clouds covering the New York Wastelands could still be seen, although barely. He wondered if the mile-high atmospheric processing vanes there would ever fully disperse the hard radiation which perennially lingered.
He touched down at Command Compound One, which occupied the spot where the White House once stood. He was cleared through security, and a young corporal led him down one of the many long corridors which gradually sloped so that it reached deep into a protected underground structure. They walked through several doors and security checkpoints, and finally came to two large double doors with the seal of the United Earth Force on them. The corporal knocked, received a positive response for entry, and opened the doors.
To Travis’ surprise, President William Ralston, the recently elected leader of the planet and UEF, sat behind a great oak desk which curved into a semi-circle. Around the desk to his right were two very high-ranking generals. To Ralston’s left sat Mara and Ben, both in full dress. The corporal announced Travis to the room and departed, closing the doors behind him.
“Lieutenant-Commander Rand,” the President said as he got to his feet, the others standing with him, “Please come forward.” Travis did as he was told, yet also quickly cast an anxious glance at Mara and Ben. Mara didn’t look at him, didn’t say anything. But Travis could tell Ben was fighting back a smile as he gave his young friend a brief, sly nod.
President Ralston was in his early fifties but had prematurely white hair. He had a certain unflappable pride in his eyes, and to Travis appeared taller than he had looked in news footage he had seen. The President leaned across his desk as Travis stood before him at the center of the curved oak and extended his hand, which the young officer gratefully accepted. “The man who saved Earth,” the elder man said, greatly impressed. “It’s an honor to meet you, young man.”
Travis started to speak but realized what was coming out of his mouth was an awed whisper. He quickly cleared his throat and answered, “The honor is mine, sir.”
Ralston duly nodded and gestured to his two generals. “This is General Justin McKay, the Chief of Planetary Security. Beside him is General Alicia Carstairs, the Secretary of Defense.” Travis turned to shake the hands of the stocky black man and the thin blonde woman. They each expressed their admiration and gratitude for the job he had done, and Travis humbly accepted their thanks.
“And of course you know Commander Christenson and Commander Williams,” Ralston said, giving Travis the opportunity to briefly exchange greetings with them. All of them sat, except Travis. There was an empty seat beside Ben, but the President did not invite Travis to take the chair, so he figured it might be best if he remained standing. No one said anything about it, so it seemed he made the right choice.
“I want to show you something, Travis,” Ralston said as he tapped a keypad on his desk. The great long wall behind him turned into a holographic projection screen as the lights in the room darkened by about half. The hologram was of a faraway shot of Jupiter, with the Heavy Cruiser fleet beginning the maneuver which had saved them, the enemy forces following closely behind. “This image was sent to us by our Watch Station on Pluto. The entire battle was monitored in fact. I watched it from here.”
Travis nodded but continued to look at the screen. As the fleet began to accelerate at the bare edge of Jupiter’s atmosphere, their hulls began to heat up. As they moved forward faster and faster, the Horizon in the lead, an aura of heat friction began to build up around the collective fleet, eventually becoming a superheated corona about them. Ralston tabbed another panel, freezing the image. “What does that look like to you?” he asked Travis.
Travis considered it a moment. “A star, falling across the planet’s atmosphere,” he posited. Ralston smiled and quickly tabbed a few more keys, shutting off the screen and bringing up the lights simultaneously. “Exactly,” he exclaimed ex
citedly. “And that’s what it’s being called now, from here to Mars and all points beyond–the Starfall Maneuver.” A knowing smile set into place on Ralston’s face as he calmly regarded the young man before him. “Please come to attention, Lieutenant- Commander.”
Travis immediately snapped to, standing reed-straight, arms at his side. Ralston reached into a drawer and pulled out a small metal box. He stood and all officers stood with him, coming to attention. Ralston walked around the table to Travis as he explained, “Usually, it’s a general or one of your immediate superior officers who gets to do this. But when I witnessed what had occurred at Jupiter, I knew that I had to be the one to give this to the soldier who pulled off a stunt like that.” He was now standing before Travis, only a little bit taller as he looked him in the eye. He held up the metal box and opened it. Inside was a silver medallion with a relief set in it of a shooting star curving around a planet. Written in a curving arc around the image in embossed letters were the words “Starfall Maneuver”. A proud smile crept onto Travis’ face as Ralston said, “This medal was made especially for you. From now on, it will be given only to those who carry out exceptional, extraordinary, one-of-a-kind tactical achievements. Congratulations on achieving something which no one else has–or could have–done.” With that, the President took the medal out of the box and pinned it on Travis’ chest, right beside his others. The officers in the room applauded him for nearly a minute, with the President gladly joining in.
“Thank you,” Travis said to all of them when the applause finally died down. “I promise that I will always do my best to be worthy of this honor.”
Ralston nodded in agreement, and there was something in his eyes…a type of hidden knowledge, as if something great were in the works. “I know you will be, Travis. I’m certain of it. Please, take a seat.”
Travis did as asked, and took the chair beside Ben, who eagerly grabbed his hand and pumped it furiously as he slapped his young friend on the arm. Ralston headed to his chair and sat once more, focusing mainly on the Horizon’s officers as he spoke. “The loss of Captain Christenson is a hard blow. Not only for his wife, whom I have known for quite some time…but for all of us. All of United Earth Force. David Christenson was one of the greatest captains, if not the greatest, in UEF’s history, and his will truly be a hero’s funeral. I know your ship’s Diviner was one of the personnel lost during this battle when your hull breached,” he said, looking at Mara on this last, “but we will find someone appropriately suited to carrying out the task.”
Mara nodded gratefully, and General Carstairs focused on all three of the flagship’s officers, although she primarily addressed its commander. “There are several matters which must be tended to, of course. In spite of our grief, the Horizon is Earth’s flagship, and a symbol of our determination to never give in to the Calvorians, no matter what forces they send at us. As such, she needs to undergo repairs at Hephaestus immediately. According to the damage overviews, the repair time should be about six weeks. While the repairs are underway, Commander Christenson will be acting captain until we find a permanent replacement for her husband. Lieutenant-Commander Rand; based on an earlier discussion the Commander and I had, and after review of your impressive military record, you will be acting first officer. This is in effect until your security chief is able to fully resume his duties.”
“Thank you, General,” Travis said, and secretly felt both disappointment and some guilt. In his heart, part of him actually did desire a full promotion to first officer, but of course Matthews had seniority and was next in line for such a posting. But overall, this would be a desirable first step to eventually becoming an executive officer, if not on the Horizon, than on a different ship at another point in time.
The meeting came to an end, there was another round of congratulations for Travis from the President and his staff, and the officers were then all dismissed. There was not much discussion on the way to the base’s launch bay, simply an update from Travis to Mara on the ship’s current state of completed repairs, and its space-worthiness for travel to Hephaestus. Ben and Mara departed UEF Command in the troop transport they had originally taken there, while Travis left in his DFC. Once aboard the Horizon, the vessel then set course for Hephaestus, to undergo full repairs.
Chapter 38
As President Ralston promised, David Patrick Christenson received a true hero’s funeral. Mara, Travis, Ben, Jamie and Tanner (he in a wheelchair) took leave from repair duty to travel to Blackpool, England, for the funeral. Every captain in the fleet who had been in combat during what came to be known as the Jupiter Skirmish attended, as did many others who were locked in different engagements on that fateful day.
David was interred at Layton Cemetery, famous for being the final resting place of two soldiers from England’s legendary Light Brigade. David had always said he would consider it an honor to share the company of such fine men, and so his wife chose to grant his wish. Mara read a poem which she had spoken to David on her wedding day, and which now served as a goodbye. One of David Christenson’s old friends and fellow officers–now himself captain of the Royal Star Force–told of their friendship and a couple of adventures they had together. The seven-pilot RSF flew a Missing Man formation and an honor guard of twenty-one soldiers fired arms into the air, creating a spectacular display when their antimatter rounds collided.
Finally, a Diviner from the Nondenominational Church of the All approached the podium, the large white book of the NCA tucked neatly beneath his arm. He kissed the gold infinity symbol on its cover and laid it upon the podium. He opened the book and addressed the crowd of nearly five hundred. “’Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God.’ Amen.”
“Amen,” they all replied.
The Diviner, a handsome gentleman with dark hair and a beard peppered with grey smatterings, turned toward the plot of ground wherein David Christenson’s coffin lay. He took a deep breath, raised his arm toward the plot and shouted in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!”
There were surprised looks among the gathered officers, who stared at the Diviner in some confusion as he cleared his throat and in an even louder tone repeated, “LAZARUS, COME OUT!”
There was of course, no reply from the still grave.
The Diviner sighed and turned to the assemblage once more. “I’m sorry. I have faith…but I am not Christ. Only He could do the impossible, and bring back to us those whom we love and miss. Were it in my power, not a single son or daughter of Earth, certainly not this man here,” he said as he pointed to the open ground, “would ever die. We live in a time of great fear and uncertainty. We have an enemy who seeks to destroy us, humiliate us, subdue us. For what reason, who can truly say? But we also have a great hope…one which David Christenson gave to us while he was alive. In over fifty engagements with Calvorian soldiers, he never lost one of them until that day. That day,” he emphasized again, “That day, when we lost a protector. That day, when many of us lost a good friend and comrade. That day, when a wife lost her husband. That day…that day will stay with us in one form or another, forever. But perhaps, in a way which is as yet unfathomable to us, was a type of a trade-off, for all the days before which he had given us reason to hope for a better tomorrow. Every living being in this world was put here for a reason, and David Christenson was put here to give us hope, and to remind us that no matter what, hope always exists. There is no darkness which cannot be dispelled by light. There is no night which is not overcome by day. And there is no reason– mourn as we mortals do–to mourn for long. David Christenson is gone, but his mantle of hope remains, and the standard will be lifted up and carried forward once more by his wife and others…yes, those you see around you. Unfortunately, I am just a man… but I can at least carry David’s hope into tomorrow with me.”
He stepped awa
y from the podium and walked forward just a bit. He held Mara in a firm yet compassionate gaze. “’Take off the grave clothes and let him go.’”
Mara let out a shuddering sigh as she nodded in understanding. The Diviner turned back to the grave and made the sign of the cross, followed by an invisible infinity symbol his finger traced in the air, then moved back to stand just off to the left of the open earth. A calm had spread throughout the crowd, a type of relief that his theatrics were to good effort, and not just bluster. Travis even had to admit to himself that he felt somewhat comforted. Led by Mara, the mourners closest to David–his command crew–tossed roses into the grave, one by one.
Afterward, as per Mara’s wishes, there was no wake. She and her senior staff gently made their way through the well-wishers and respected associates. They were shuttled to the troop transport they had left at Heathrow Starport, and were all surprised to find the Diviner already there, waiting for them.
“Commander Christenson, I’m Diviner Devon Bova.”
“Diviner,” she said and reached out her hand to gently grasp his own. “Thank you for the beautiful words. I’m sure David would have appreciated them.”
“I’m sure he does,” Bova gently corrected. “It was my honor to serve for such an occasion, and I hope to be of further use to you. You see, I am to be placed aboard the Horizon as your new Diviner.” He reached under his long white vestment and pulled out a dsp, which he handed over for her inspection. “My transfer orders from the NCA, and confirmed by UEF Command.”
She briefly looked over the info and then back to him. She nodded and smiled. “That’s good. Welcome aboard.”
“Thank you.”
Mara introduced her command crew and all made their way aboard the transport. As they lifted off with Travis piloting, the transport swiftly rose up to break through the light cloud cover. On their way back to the Horizon, which was now docked at the Hephaestus Shipyards, Bova asked Mara if she felt like praying. She had been raised in the Catholic faith and unlike Travis, her faith did not seem to fail her in the moment of her loved one’s death; if anything, it somehow seemed almost renewed. She eagerly agreed, and the two of them moved to the rear of the cabin, where they stayed during the entire trip to Hephaestus.
