by Lance Berry
“If you’re going to be with her, just treat her right,” Drake said as he turned away. “Treat her better than you did Marion,” he threw over his shoulder as he hobbled around a turn in the corridor and disappeared from sight.
Travis entered the medical bay, found Doctor Singh and inquired as to Danielle’s whereabouts. He was directed to a bed at the far end of the bay, which had surprisingly few patients, considering the various battles which had gone on outside with the enemy only hours before.
Danielle was resting in bed, seeming to be at peace. A pulse sensor around her wrist kept a close tab on her vitals while an IV fixed to her arm steadily delivered much-needed blood into her system. Her left eye was no longer swollen fully, but there was still a slight bulge in the upper eyelid. Both her eyes were half closed, and she seemed on the verge of drifting off to sleep. When Travis approached, her head turned to him and she smiled weakly as a slight sigh escaped her throat. “Travis…” she muttered, barely able to form the word.
“Doc’s got you pumped full of some good drugs, huh?” He tried to joke as he took a seat beside her bed and clasped his hand around her own. She tried to nod, but it didn’t quite work, so she smiled again. “Yep. Believe it or not, I’m not feeling any pain at all.”
“That’s good,” he said, and fell silent a moment. “Danielle…I’m sorry about what happened. It was under my command, my watch…I should have been able to do something–“
“Don’t you beat yourself up,” she said firmly, a moment of lucidity coming to her before her eyes half-closed again. “You did do something. You made that bastard pay for what he did to me. Even if you didn’t kill him, he’s gonna have to live with that the rest of his life. Just like me…” She passed out from the medications, and Travis sat with her a little while longer, holding her hand before he finally left.
For his bravery in the capture of Aliamar and taking command of his unit when his CO was injured, Travis was awarded the Medal of Valor by Captain Alex Crane, the base commandant, and a promotion to Private First Class. At nineteen, he was the youngest soldier in UEF history to be awarded the medal. He was interviewed by the pressnets, which brought him to the attention of the captain of the light cruiser Iota. Travis was transferred to the security detachment aboard that vessel, and a year later was injured during an engagement on Titan, for which he won the Purple Heart. His convalescence at the M.A.S.H. unit positioned there was swift, and he returned to duty fully healed.
He kept tabs on his cadre brothers and sisters when he could. Danielle and Drake eventually broke up, and Christina King retired from the military to tend to her daughter. Hamilton Cavanaugh lost a leg saving the lives of the security unit he was a part of at a Watch Station in the Vega star-system, and was honorably discharged from the service. Anthony Chang went on to become chief of security aboard the Heavy Cruiser Maximus, and in years to come would become captain of that same vessel.
Danielle contacted Travis several times, but he always found an excuse to keep the conversations brief, since he felt guilt over being at least partially responsible for her breakup with Drake. Eventually, she got the message and stopped trying to reach him.
Jack Richards eventually was released from the MacLean-Barque Institute, and after a while was reinstated as captain of the Heavy Cruiser Dakota. His relationship with Travis was good for a while, but eventually fell back into the same patterns of animosity after a heated debate about why Travis left Marion, whom Jack actually approved of. They stopped speaking altogether, which satisfied Travis to no end.
The Heavy Cruiser Horizon was launched in 2180, under the command of Captain David Christenson. This was a new breed of Heavy Cruiser, far more powerful than anything that had come before it, and was to serve as the flagship of the United Earth Force. Travis devoured any articles published about David Christenson and the ship, and came to find that Christenson’s first officer was also his wife–a bit of information which for Travis forced bittersweet memories to the surface. In the intervening years, he had tried to contact Marion, but she wanted nothing to do with him anymore, even going so far as to block him from being able to contact her via the Overnet or over any vid-com system she was stationed at.
The revelation that Christenson served with his wife showed Travis how short-sighted both he and Marion had been. If the Christensons could make it work, why couldn’t they have done it as well? He was also reminded of all the other missed opportunities he had with other women, from Gilda to Danielle to a few others along the way. He wondered if he would ever meet someone he could commit to fully, or if it was his destiny to be alone. “Destiny”; the word once meant so little to him, and yet as the years had gone by, it seemed that somehow there was indeed some invisible puppeteer behind the scenes, making him dance this way and that–to what end, he had no idea. He only hoped that one day, he might be able to make sense of it all…
Chapter 30
(2194 – The Present)
So that was it, then, Travis acknowledged as he rose from the edge of Danielle’s bed, where he had been sitting for what seemed like forever. He raised his arm and pressed down firmly on his sleeve. The chronometer which was a part of the fabric displayed the date, time and the temperature of the room he was in. He had only been in the room for about fifteen minutes, though it had seemed far longer.
With the war at an end, Travis had found himself alone in the conference room aboard the Horizon, trying to figure out where his life– indeed, where the future of United Earth Force itself–would go from here. He had been a soldier all his adult life, and with no war to fight any longer, what would his fate be? This thought had caused him to go over his victories and losses, both as a soldier and as a human. In his own personal life, it seemed he had far more losses than he ever racked up as a soldier. He had gotten to thinking about Marion, who like everyone else in UEF territories, must have been celebrating the end of the war. He wondered who she was celebrating with. This then brought him to thinking about the friends he had lost along the way, who never made it to the final stretch of victory. And then there was Danielle, who had made it in a way, but was unable to recognize it for what it was. She was unable to recognize anything or anyone in fact, since her lobotomy at the muzzle of a Calvorian’s gun.
Five more years, Travis thought. Just five years, and she would be able to smile and dance and laugh with the rest of us…
The thought was too unbearable for him, and so he had come to visit, because it was the right thing to do. He had owed her so much and had never been able to give her what she wanted…so she at least should have this. He turned to Danielle, who still stared off into nothing, and took off his captain’s bars. He placed them on the shoulders of her sundress and tenderly, lovingly, kissed her on the lips. “I know that by now, you would have been a captain, Danielle,” he said quietly. “In a way, you always were.” He stood up straight at-attention and saluted…but of course she did not return. He started to say something else, but couldn’t bring himself to. He turned away and left, closing the door quietly behind him.
Martha Keys was in the kitchen, turning out some lights when Travis came down the stairs. She met him just outside the kitchen, a pleasant smile on her face. “Did you have a nice visit?”
He thought about it and smiled. “I believe we did.” He reached forward, gently clasping her hands between his own. “I have to be getting back to my ship. Thank you so much for your hospitality.”
“My pleasure, Travis,” she said easily. “Please feel free to stop back at any time.”
He nodded gratefully, and for a moment seemed to be considering something. He leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek in thanks, and Martha was pleased that he turned away just in time to miss her blushing.
She followed him to the front door, where he collected his damp raincoat from the coat rack. He put it on and stepped outside in the rain, which had begun to lighten just a bit. To Martha’s surprise, there was an AirKab already waiting. With a final wave, Travis Ra
nd stepped into the ‘Kab, which lifted up with barely a sound, and glided away into the darkness.
The rain stopped by the time the AirKab dropped Travis off at the Philadelphia Shuttleport. He made his way thru customs and headed for the hangars reserved for military use. He had already called ahead to his pilot, to let her know that he was getting in, and that her free time was unfortunately over. When he arrived at the troop transport his first officer insisted he take to Earth, his pilot, Zahara Zukhoury, was waiting patiently for him.
“Captain,” the beautiful Indian woman acknowledged with a casual nod. “Did everything go alright? Did you take care of whatever you needed?”
“Yes I did, Lieutenant,” Travis answered as he headed up the egress ramp, following Zahara as she stepped backward, into the cabin. The interior of the troop transport was much larger than the standard civilian transport shuttle, since this was designed to carry up to forty troops at a time into combat. The first section of the vessel had twenty-two seats, including the pilot and co-pilot chairs. Gun racks lined both walls on either side, each full of Zuk-Lar .40s and the Series 12 Vaugh-Koch Blastrifle. In the years since Travis first joined the military, the two companies had each modified their weapons to emit highly charged packets of antimatter instead of lasers, which increased the weapons’ deadliness. The Calvorians had never been able to duplicate the design of these weapons, and UEF ground troops which faced off against the enemy found themselves decisively winning far more engagements.
Zahara took the pilot’s seat and tabbed a command key to close the door, which sealed airtight with a pneumatic -whumpf!- “The Horizon signaled just before you called me, sir. Apparently, shore leave is over. We’ve already been given marching orders for our next assignment,” she explained as he took the co-pilot’s seat to her left.
“Already? That’s surprising,” Travis remarked.
Zahara shrugged as she went through the pre-flight check with practiced ease. She was the heir to the Zukhoury family fortune, literally born a princess in Mumbai, India…yet she chose service in United Earth Force over the pampered life she could have kept. She was the second-best pilot he had ever seen in his life, and he was pleased to have her serving aboard his ship.
“Conn tower, this is troop transport 1-A, requesting permission to lift off,” she said into the comlink. “Repeat, transport One-Alpha, requesting clearance.”
The reply came through with almost no hesitation. “Transport One- Alpha, you are clear to lift off. Proceed on vector heading nine-one-eight by two-six.”
“Copy, thank you,” she answered, and immediately the transport lifted off the ground and proceeded out the hangar at a steady glide. As soon as the transport cleared the doors, it arced sharply upward–a faster climb gradient than Travis thought was needed, but such was Zahara’s way.
Travis had come to realize over the years that most DFC pilots didn’t have much patience for the easy liftoff. The desire for speed had always been a type of adrenal aphrodisiac, from the days of chariot races in ancient Rome, through the advent of fighter jets in the mid-20th Century, until now. Discounting Heavy Cruisers, there was no faster flying machine than a DFC, and to sit behind the throttle of one spoiled a person forever for the relative slowness of transports.
Soon enough, their transport neared the edge of Earth’s atmosphere. It arced over the northern hemisphere, picking up speed as it used Earth’s gravitational rotation to accelerate. Finally, Zahara worked her console to allow the transport to gradually lift further up away from the pull of gravity so that their speed could level out naturally. And there, looming not too far ahead of them, was Travis Rand’s ship–the Horizon!
It was a massive juggernaut of power, just over a mile and a half long, the most powerful mobile weapon ever built by human beings. Travis was amazed that no matter how many times he was in a moment like this, approaching the ship from the comfort of a transport, he got the exact same thrill he did when he saw the ship for the very first time…
Chapter 31
(THE REIGN)
Lieutenant-Commander Travis Rand rang the door buzzer outside Captain Matthew Garroway’s office. The door slid aside and the captain, seated behind his desk in the small room, waved him in.
Garroway was an easygoing man in his late forties, with hair swept back from his swiftly balding pate. It had been a circulating joke within the military for some time that becoming captain of a Heavy Cruiser eventually made a person physically soft, since it was an unusual occurrence for a captain to find himself going planet side on missions or into any hazardous combat conditions. Garroway’s somewhat ample gut seemed to prove this rumor. As the door glided shut behind him, Travis came to attention and saluted. Garroway couldn’t help but chuckle as he half-heartedly returned. “Good God, son…I swear, you must be the only person left aboard this ship who salutes me.”
“It’s a sign of respect, Captain…for the chain of command and for you. It’s what I was taught at Sanderson.”
“I know, I know,” Garroway said gently. “Have a seat, son.” Travis did as he was asked, and Garroway looked at him warmly, in that familial and easy manner he had when addressing a crewmember behind closed doors. “In the four years you’ve been aboard my ship, I would have thought that by now you’d know that I don’t care for being saluted. To me, it’s a bit archaic and would mark me as a target on the battlefield. I know that you respect me, Travis…I know everybody aboard the Archimedes does. So why do you continue to do it?”
Travis thought about it a moment. “Maybe I just respect you more personally, sir. You’ve done a lot for me since I came aboard. You’ve taught me more about what it is to be a leader than half the officers I’ve known in my life. Of course, I’d never salute you on the battlefield, I understand about that…but I like to show my respect, sir.”
Garroway smiled, genuinely touched. “You’re a good man and a hell of a soldier, Travis. You’re going to have a fine career ahead of you, I can see it. I’m going to miss not having you around.”
Travis blinked in confusion. “Sir–?”
Garroway rose, walked around the desk and sat down in a second visitor’s chair next to Travis as he spoke. “In my heart, I knew it was a mistake when you asked me a couple years back to transfer from security to helm command. Up for a posting to second in command of security aboard my ship, in such a short time after arriving here…well, you remember what I told you?”
Travis nodded and let out a chuckle. “’A damned mistake that may very well haunt you for the rest of your life’.”
“Yeah, well…looks like my prognosticating has come back to bite me on the ass.” He leaned forward in the chair, reaching for something on his desk. Realizing he wasn’t going to get it by doing a half-assed job, Garroway got to his feet and reached forward, snagging a dsp. He sat back in the chair with a mild grunt and half-read from the dsp as he spoke. “A posting has come up. One of our Heavy Cruisers recently lost some personnel in battle. Some also were recently transferred off that ship as well. They’re in desperate need of a helmsman, so you’re being shuffled over.”
“Another ship,” Travis echoed in a disinterested manner. “Sir, I enjoy serving aboard the Archimedes. Is there any way out of this?”
Garroway huffed–half amused, half consternated by the young man’s attitude. “Not without this appearing as a serious mark against your record. No one with half a brain in their head turns down a posting to the Horizon.”
“The Horizon!” Travis exclaimed as he jumped to his feet. He then dropped his eyes to the floor, embarrassed that he had shown such a display when only moments before, he had been talking about how much he respected his captain.
“It’s alright, Travis,” Garroway said with a gentle laugh. “As much as I love being CO of this tugboat, if they offered me a job as ship’s cook aboard the Horizon with a two-thirds pay cut, I’d take it.” He then added, more seriously, “There’s nothing wrong with ambition, son. It’s what separates leaders from the l
esser of the flock.”
That made Travis feel a little better. He sat down once more, and Garroway handed him the dsp. Travis looked it over, and indeed these were orders of transfer, to take effect twenty-four hours from Travis’ agreement to displacement.
Garroway saw the minute look of uncertainty on his young officer’s face. “It’s your choice, Travis. But opportunities like this do not come around twice.”
Travis looked at Garroway, then placed his thumb to the dsp’s faceplate, cementing the deal. “It’s been an honor serving with you, sir,” he said as he handed back the dsp.
Travis was a popular officer aboard the Archimedes, and so there was a huge going-away party thrown in his honor in the ship’s mess hall. At least a third of the seven hundred and eighty personnel aboard the ship were able to take leave of their duties in order to bid him goodbye. There was music, a cake (vanilla with chocolate frosting, Travis’ favorite) and Captain Garroway broke out a case of vintage wine he had been saving for a special occasion. Travis also became more intimately familiar with a couple of female crewmembers who had been fond of him for some time, but had never said anything before.
Finally, the time came for Travis to leave. The Horizon was due to head out to deep space for a reconnaissance mission, and so the Archimedes made haste to rendezvous with her sister ship at the Hephaestus Shipyards before the flagship set sail. Garroway escorted Travis to the hangar, and they shook hands outside the transport which had come aboard to pick Travis up.
“Well, Travis, this is goodbye for now, I guess. I don’t know when we’ll see each other again, but hopefully it’ll be soon, and under good circumstances.”
