by Rick Bentsen
Soran was making the rounds and making sure everyone had the drinks they wanted. He glided over to where Masha was talking with Jack Benton.
“Masha, can I get you something to drink?” he asked, noting that Jack already had one.
“Yeah, Soran. Maybe a soda?” the security chief winked.
“A soda it is then,” Soran chuckled and went to pour one. Masha turned back to Jack as the barman swept away.
“So tell me the truth. Did you really rig the torpedo launchers to do an automatic rapid fire?”
“Yes, and you should have seen Captain Bryce’s face when he came on board. He was white as a sheet. You see, we were shooting at a bunch of fighters close by him at one point.”
“He must have had a fit.”
“Yeah,” Mario said breaking into the conversation. “He told me later that if he ever found out who was shooting like that, that he would personally kick that person’s arse. I didn’t have the heart to tell him it was me.”
“You were manning the weapons console?” Masha snorted. “I would have loved to have seen that!”
“It was great,” Mario grinned. “The modified torpedoes worked perfectly.”
K’Alan and K’Itea walked in. Soran swept over to them, happy to see his long-time friend and his wife.
“Captain Bryce,” he smiled, then corrected himself when he saw the rank insignia on K’Alan’s dress uniform. “Commodore Bryce. Welcome back. This is the first chance I’ve had to welcome you back. Planning for this party’s been taking up much of the past couple days.”
“I understand, Soran,” K’Alan smiled. “And it’s good to be back where I belong!”
“Yes, I’m sure it is.”
Soran smiled and swept over to another group of officers that had just entered.
“You and Elam looked like you were having fun in the park tonight, K’Alan,” K’Itea said.
“Yes, I think he likes baseball,” K’Alan chuckled. “I think he may end up being a better pitcher than his old man.”
K’Itea laughed. She looked around at all of the people in the room.
“Mario,” she called. “Come over here please.”
“Anything for the High Gentlewoman,” the colonel smiled, bowing. S’Era was at his side, looking dazzling.
“S’Era, you look marvelous tonight,” K’Alan said.
“Thank you, brother. I borrowed the dress from K’Itea,” S’Era said, twirling so they could get the full effect of the dress.
“Mario, I have to ask,” K’Alan said. “Where did you go when you left the bridge this evening?”
“I had to go make sure someone came to the party tonight.”
“Oh? Who?” K’Alan asked, very curious.
“You’ll see. Surprise for Soran.”
K’Alan raised his eyebrow.
Captain Tom Keevan of the Creighton walked over at that moment.
“K’Alan, good to see you not covered in muck,” Tom chuckled.
“Thanks again for coming to get me, Tom,” K’Alan smiled. “Have you seen Erin yet? I think she was looking for you earlier.”
“She was?” Tom swallowed. “Did she say anything to you about me?”
“No, actually, she was too busy giving me hell over going and doing something dangerous. And she punched me in the arm.” He furrowed his brows. “She said something about never wanting my chair again.”
“That sounds about right,” Tom laughed.
“There you are, Swamp Rat,” Captain Laura Goldthorne called, walking over to the small group.
“Hi, Laura,” Tom blushed.
“So, Swamp Rat,” Laura smiled. “Commander Sykes was looking for you earlier. She said she better see you at the party. I haven’t seen her here yet.”
“Er,” Tom said, looking rather uncomfortable. “Do you happen to know if she was happy about wanting to see me?”
“I don’t know, Swamp Rat,” Laura said. “Never was able to read her well.”
“Great,” Tom sighed, fidgeting. “Just great.”
“Something you want to share with the rest of the class, Tom?” K’Alan said, a twinkle in his eye.
“Not really, K’Alan, but I suspect you’ll know soon enough anyway.”
The door opened and a female Duterian that K’Alan didn’t recognize walked in.
“Well, I’ll be back in a bit, kiddies,” Mario said. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. And if Tom spills about what’s going on, make sure you tell me later, Kal.”
“Of course,” K’Alan chuckled. “Whatever it is, is bound to be good gossip over our next poker game, Mario.”
“Boys,” S’Era groaned, rolling her eyes.
Mario gave S’Era a playful swat on the rump then headed over to the Duterian that K’Alan didn’t know.
“This spot taken?” Erin asked from behind Tom.
“Er, hi,” Tom said, blushing. “K’Alan and Laura said you wanted to see me?”
Erin nodded. She held up her hand and smiled. Tom let out a huge sigh of relief when he saw the ring on her finger.
“Congratulations, Swamp Rat,” Laura laughed. “And it’s about time, if you ask me.”
“I thought she was going to say no!” Tom gasped.
“Why you—“ Erin never finished the sentence as Tom leaned over and kissed her.
Soran had finished circulating and was standing at the bar, pouring a Duterian Sunmist for K’Alan when Mario stepped up to him.
“Hey, Soran,” Mario said. “Got a minute?”
“Sure, Mario,” Soran said as he turned. “I—“
Soran dropped the glass he was pouring the drink in.
“Hello, Soran,” the Duterian woman standing next to Mario said. “It’s been a long time. I see you remember me. I thought I’d never see you again.”
“K’Aria?” Soran asked. “K’Aria Danare? Is it really you?”
“Yes,” K’Aria smiled. “It is.”
Knees shaking, Soran sat on the nearest stool. Mario left the two alone, unnoticed by the barman.
“I tried to bring you back to the ship, K’Aria. I went looking for you. I never wanted to—“
“I forgave you a long time ago, Soran,” K’Aria smiled. “And I never forgot you. Colonel Bonetti remembered seeing my name amongst the survivors, and came to find me. He told me you were on board, and my heart rejoiced. I had no idea what had happened to you.”
Soran was at a loss for words. Turning back to the bar, he made her a drink, a Tomarian Moondance, just the way she liked it.
“I remember making this for you a long time ago,” Soran said quietly. “I’ve never made one since I thought I’d lost you.”
The two old friends continued talking, and Mario, smiling, headed back to K’Alan.
“May I have your attention please?” K’Alan called loudly. All conversation in the bar slowly ended, and everyone looked towards the captain. “I wish to propose a toast. This crew’s been through a lot in the past month, and you have all done far better than anyone could have hoped for. You are all the best crew a captain could ask for. To Gamma Strike and to peace!”
There were choruses of “Hear! Hear!” around him, and K’Alan raised his glass in salute to the crew.
His crew.
Epilogue
THE picture in the holosphere faded and the four grey-robed figures stepped away from it. Each of them had their own thoughts about what they had seen.
The leader of the Watchers pulled back the hood on his robes and grimaced as he watched the static in the holosphere fade to nothing.
“Things have gone in an unpredictable direction,” Alan said. “The way this alliance came about is completely unexpected.”
“Yes,” Kiara smiled. “But I believe that things have gone in a direction that can be used to our benefit.”
“Time will tell, Kiara,” John said. “Let us see if this alliance can stand. If it can, then perhaps…”
John trailed off as he turned from the holosphere and walked
into the shadows once more.
“It is as Ugatu foresaw,” Kiara’s soft voice came from the shadows. “The time of the great war he spoke of is upon us.”
“Not just yet,” Samantha spoke for the first time in days. “Michael would know better than I, but there is much to come still before the war Ugatu spoke of comes.”
“This alliance indeed has many challenges yet to face together,” Alan nodded. He took Samantha by the arm and led her out of the Central Chamber.
“The time is upon us,” Kiara repeated to the empty chamber. “Preparations need to be made.”
With that, Kiara, too, left the Central Chamber, heading off to start her own preparations for what was to come.
To be continued…
The Wedding
A Gamma Strike Short Story
“ARE we online?” Kiara asked quietly as she entered the imaging chamber.
“Not yet,” Martin sighed. “The damn holoprojector is on the fritz again.”
“Can it be repaired?” she asked. “Events are about to take place that we must bear witness to.”
“I’m doing my best, Commander Westlake,” Martin sighed. “This whole system needs to be rebuilt eventually.”
“Do what you can, Chief,” Kiara nodded. “Let me know the moment the holomatrix has been established.”
“Yes, Commander,” Martin said, turning back to the control panel.
“Don’t you think you were a little hard on him, Kiara?” Samantha asked from behind her. “The poor man’s doing the best he can under the circumstances. I don’t think even Alan understands all the modifications that have been made to the holoprojector, and he designed it originally.”
“That may be, Sam,” Kiara sighed, “But I believe we are missing events surrounding the one we have been searching for.”
“Yelling at Martin won’t change that,” Sam smiled. “Besides. Why are you so sure we’re about to find the one we’ve been searching for? We’ve been searching for over a hundred years so far.”
“Call it an instinct,” Kiara chuckled. “You used to trust my instincts, once upon a time.”
“Only because Alan did,” Samantha reminded the other woman. “I would have thrown you out had he not.”
“I’ve never been your enemy, Samantha,” Kiara said softly.
“You’ve never been my friend either.”
“That may be, but when have I ever given you reason to mistrust me?”
“Some questions are better left unanswered,” Samantha said as she laid her hand on Kiara’s shoulder. “This is one of those questions. Now go. Get the others. We shall watch this together.”
“Yes, Captain,” Kiara said sharply, snapping off a sharp salute before turning on her heel and leaving the imaging chamber, her grey robes rustling as she moves quickly.
“You were hard on her, Sam,” Alan said quietly as he put his arms around her. “She is one of us.”
“I don’t trust her, my love,” Sam said quietly. ”And I never have.”
“I know,” Alan nodded. “I’m not really saying you should, but at least try to be nicer to her.”
“I will try, my love. For you and for the cause,” Samantha nodded. “But I still don’t trust her.”
“I can live with that,” Alan smiled at her. “Now. Let’s see what Martin has come up with, shall we?”
The two walked over to where Martin was lying with his head and shoulders buried deep in the panel housing the holoprojector controls.
“Before you two ask, I’ve just about got this thing fixed,” Martin called from inside the panel.
“Good,” Alan nodded. “Let us know when it is fixed, Martin.”
“I will,” Martin grunted. “It’ll go a lot quicker if everyone doesn’t keep asking me how it’s going.”
“Point taken,” Alan chuckled.
Kiara walked into the imaging room just then, leading the eight other Watchers. Sam and Alan walked over to the rest of the group.
‘It’s just about time, my friends,” Alan said, indicating with a wave the twelve lighted spots around the holosphere.
Each of the twelve, minus Martin who was still working on the holoprojector, took their usual spot, waiting impassively in their grey robes.
“I have it,” Martin called from inside the panel. “You should be seeing haze right now, but the picture will clear in a couple of seconds.
The picture indeed began to clear as Martin took his own spot around the holosphere. As the haze cleared, a picture began to focus within the holosphere.
5.26.2125
0855
Duterius Prime
Braga Valley Great Hall
K’Itea Bryce sat on her throne in the Great Hall of Braga Valley. It was the first thing in the morning, and she was waiting for her daily dose of supplicants to begin arriving. She loved what she did, and she loved helping people, but sometimes she really hated dealing with the trivialities that were brought before her.
As the morning supplicants were shown in, K’Itea looked them over. Many of them she knew, others would be appearing before her before her for the first time.
But it was one of the new supplicants that caught her attention. He was a tall Duterian male with long black hair and piercing blue eyes. He had chiseled features and he appeared to be quite muscular. He wore the uniform of the Braga Valley militia, wearing the rank of Lieutenant. But what caught her attention the most was the fact that, unlike the other supplicants, he was not bowing in her presence. Instead, he was gazing straight at her, an almost perceptible sneer on his features.
“J’Anai, bring the first supplicant before me,” K’Itea said in a soft voice to her aide.
The old man nodded and walked towards the supplicants. He scanned the group, and his eyes locked with the strange military officer. Furrowing his brow, J’Anai headed over to the stranger and the two exchanged some whispers.
J’Anai turned on his heel and headed back to where K’Itea was sitting.
“I do not trust that man,” he whispered to her. “I suggest you deal with his supplication first and get it over with quickly so that he can leave quickly.”
“As in all things, J’Anai,” K’Itea whispered with a touch of amusement. “I trust your judgment. Send him forward.”
“Very well, Gentlewoman.” J’Anai stood, and his voice boomed out. “The Gentlewoman will now hear your supplications. K’Orin Thamur, please step forward and present your petition.”
The strange lieutenant strode forward with measured strides. He stood at attention before K’Itea and took a small breath before beginning.
“I thank the Gentlewoman for agreeing to hear my petition,” he began. K’Itea nodded, waving him on. “I understand that the Gentlewoman is to be married in short order. I submit that she has the wrong groom picked, however, and I humbly submit myself for consideration for her husband.” He dropped to one knee as he said this, and his petition brought gasps from the assorted petitioners.
“You know not of my intended, Lieutenant Thamur,” K’Itea said quietly after the commotion died down. “I do not think that you would believe the bonding to be wrong if you did.”
“I know that he does not stay on Duterius as he should,” K’Orin shot back. “Nor does he stay to honor his Gentlewoman and his intended as he rightfully should. I would do this.”
“It is immaterial whether you would or not,” K’Itea said, her voice firm. “The match has the blessings of the gods. It cannot be undone.”
“Even so, it shall be,” K’Orin growled, his voice dropping in volume to barely above a whisper. “One way or the other, this wedding will not proceed unless I am the groom.”
“I think not,” K’Itea smiled. “Your petition is denied, Lieutenant. The guards will show you out.”
As if on cue, two burly members of the royal guard appeared on either side of the lieutenant and took him by the elbows.
“This is not over,” he shouted as he was escorted out of the Great Hall. “You will
be mine, Gentlewoman. One way or the other, you will be mine.”
K’Itea watched him all the way out as he was thrown out of the Great Hall.
She stood and motioned for all the supplicants to come forward.
“I will listen to all of your supplications today, my people,” she began, spreading her hands. “However, I must ask for a few minutes to myself after that first supplicant. The guards will show you to waiting rooms. I promise to hear every one of you before I leave the Great Hall today, though.”
The people nodded in understanding and began to file out to the appropriate waiting rooms. She turned to J’Anai, and the old man stepped forward.
“Has there been any word from K’Alan, J’Anai?” she asked.
“No, K’Itea, there has not,” J’Anai said in a pained voice. “The Quintanilla is currently engaged in battle and has been off and on for the past two weeks, and the ship is on communications blackout. I have been able to confirm for you that, as of this morning, he is still quite alive though.”
“I hope he does make it, J’Anai. I do not wish any more events such as this morning’s petition.”
“I understand. If you wish, I will have Lieutenant Thamur barred from the Great Hall.”
“Please, J’Anai. And have him watched,” K’Itea sighed as she sat back in her throne. “I do not believe we’ve heard the last of him.”
“Neither do I, my lady.”
5.30.2125
1047
SLS Quintanilla
Captain Starlos’s Office
Captain Thane Starlos had had a long day. Commodore John Bonetti had been riding all of the ships in the attack wing pretty hard the last few weeks, and Thane had not had a chance to do all his paperwork and performance evaluations.
But now, there was a lull in the action, and Thane was taking this opportunity to catch up with his paperwork. Not a task he overly relished, but it needed to be done nonetheless.
