Within the hangar bay, the damage splayed across the surface of the Cruiser was echoed in the mass of damaged and destroyed Duun and Cair ships that littered the bay’s open floor. Many ships, like the Cair Ilmun, had limped back to the Revolution. They had been held together solely by the strength of will and determination of their pilots. Upon their return, the ships had collapsed in the gravity of the hangar, their metallic forms too severely damaged to return to their berths within the alcoves of the bay. Crews worked feverishly to salvage what they could from those ships too damaged to fly, as well as to clean away the dark red stain of blood that streaked the floor the full length of the hangar bay. Many pilots had returned with little of their bodies left beyond their iron will. They had died still strapped in their ships or, to the dismay of the other pilots, drug themselves free of their cockpits only to die on the floor in a pool of their own blood. Lying unceremoniously on the hard, cold floor of a hangar, gurgling and choking on your own blood, was far detached from the romantic vision of how pilots expected to die.
Keryn knew that she should be there, among the workers clearing away the debris and remains of the pilots. It had been days since the end of the battle and nearly every other pilot had contributed to the cleanup efforts. A couple times she had made it as far as one of the clear glass windows that overlooked the hangar bay before her heart lurched and a deep pain stung her in the emptiness in her chest. In the end, she had invariably turned around and returned to her quarters.
She had been hailed a hero, both for destroying an entire Terran Squadron and single-handedly decimating a Destroyer. But Keryn didn’t feel much like a hero. She smiled amicably when others stopped her in the hall or asked to sit with her at the mess hall, but conversation was always light and she left them bewildered, unsure of how to take her aloof attitude. For Keryn, it was a time of soul searching, though she still remained unsure of what, exactly, she was searching for. Her soul was incomplete, having been torn apart by her own actions.
Mostly, though, Keryn spent her time avoided Yen Xiao. She had changed her routine to avoid him; going to meals earlier or later and working out in the middle of the night. He had knocked on her door a few times and had called more times than she cared to count. Eventually, she had simply deactivated her messaging service so that she wouldn’t have to listen to his concerned and upset messages. His messages had pained her as well, knowing that she was intentionally hurting him. Keryn knew that he loved her just as she loved him, but until she could find her own way and purpose, she couldn’t imagine herself spending time with Yen.
The ache in her chest was from more than just the loss of the Voice and her distancing from Yen. Many of her fellow pilots were now dead, Squadron Commander Garrix among them. While leading the Squadron against the Terrans, his Duun fighter had been struck by a plasma rocket and obliterated. There was nothing left of Garrix to bury. His memorial had been one of dozens conducted over the past few days. Keryn had skipped most of them. There was nothing to say to all those soldiers and Crewmen who had sacrificed their lives during the first real war between the Terran Empire and the Alliance in over one hundred years. They were the true heroes, Keryn knew. And it was that knowledge that made it difficult for her to accept when others called her a hero.
Standing in front of the mirror, Keryn adjusted her dress uniform and looked at her own reflection. She kept waiting for the reflection to move; to speak as the Voice had done in her vision. In some ways, Keryn wished it would move. Though she hated herself for admitting it, she felt a little lost without the constant criticisms and compliments of the Voice. But her reflection never waivered. It was just her own image she saw. The bruising under her eyes from lack of sleep and deathly pallor that had settled over her tan skin were only the beginnings of the physical manifestations of her inner turmoil.
Taking a deep breath, Keryn looked at herself once more in the mirror. The medals she had been awarded for her actions during the battle gleamed upon her chest, though she found their sparkle a little depressing. Finally, she understood what a fellow pilot had told her after her brother’s memorial service. After Eza had been posthumously awarded the Alliance Service Cross, Keryn had been telling the story of how he had earned the medal. A pilot had corrected her, letting her know that medals like that weren’t awarded, they were received. She hadn’t understood the difference then, but she found herself understanding now. A person was awarded a medal for performing admirably, either in combat or in peace time. But what was admirable about killing thousands of Terrans in a single attack? No, Keryn hadn’t been awarded her medals, she had simply received them.
And now, she realized as she stood in front of the mirror, the list of decorations that she would receive would grow by one, though this one carried with it a much bigger burden. As she walked out of the room, Keryn tried to remember any vignettes of wisdom that Squadron Commander Garrix might have imparted before his untimely death. Frowning, she realized that she couldn’t remember any. She hadn’t known him long enough for him to impart his wisdom. Turning off the lights, Keryn knew that she would soon be struggling to figure out the job on her own as she assumed the mantle of Squadron Commander for the Revolution.
Almost none of the pilots on the Revolution had been battle tested prior to the conflict with the invading Terran Fleet. Through her actions, or rather through the actions of the Voice, Keryn had become a hero and established herself as the premier pilot on board. Had she thought about it earlier, she would have realized that she was a natural selection for the position. But she felt like a fraud. It hadn’t been her that had performed those amazing feats of aerial acrobatics. They were assigning her to the role of Squadron Commander under false pretenses, yet she had never taken the time to correct their mistake. She would do her best to fill the role, though the threat of failure loomed ever-present over her shoulder.
The walk through the Revolution to the auditorium where her promotion ceremony would be held was a startling trip for Keryn. The interior of the ship had fared little better than the exterior. When she had first come aboard, the Revolution had been pristine. Now, around her the walls were buckled from unseen explosions. Black soot coated the walls from distant fires, spreading their dark marks across the walls like a drop of blood in water. In parts of the ship, electrical wires hung from the ceiling where workers slaved to restore power to damaged sections.
Entering one of the only operational lifts on the Revolution, Keryn pressed the button for the correct floor and leaned her head against the cool interior wall of the elevator. She had tried to come up with a memorable speech, but everything she wrote felt trite. Hoping to make up her speech in the heat of the moment, Keryn now worried that, possibly, that decision had been a mistake. Weariness crept into her thoughts, leaving them muddled and unclear. When it came time for her to speak, Keryn wasn’t sure if she’d be able to say little more than a polite “thank you” before departing the stage as quickly as possible. Smiling softly, though the humor did not reach her eyes, Keryn thought that exiting the stage quickly might not be a bad idea. At least her promotion would be memorable.
As the lift doors opened, Keryn walked the short distance down the hall to the large double doors that would lead to the auditorium. An honor guard had been posted in the hall and they nodded politely as they opened the doors. Very little noise escaped the auditorium, though Keryn quickly surmised that it was due to a subdued mood in the room rather than a lack of audience members. In fact, Keryn realized with a start, the room was nearly packed with pilots, soldiers, and Crewmen. In her mind, the ceremony was going to be a low-key event, attended only by those with directly vested interests in her promotion. Instead, a hundred sets of eyes turned to observe her entrance.
Feeling even more nervous than before, Keryn was escorted by a member of the honor guard down the aisle of the auditorium and to the stage, where she climbed the steps and took her seat facing the crowd. She couldn’t help but feel exceptionally vulnerable sitting on the stage,
with so many people watching her. Even the few meager conversations that had been going on when she entered had died away. Scanning the crowd, Keryn’s eyes unintentionally fell on familiar faces. Sitting a few rows back, behind the rows of pilots – her future subordinates, Keryn had to remind herself – sat the former infiltration team of the Cair Ilmun. Yen and Adam sat side by side, talking to one another in low tones. Yen nodded to the comments the Pilgrim made, but his dark, unreadable eyes never left Keryn. Beside them, the rest of the team smiled comfortingly. Though she smiled weakly toward them, her eyes were drawn back to Yen and his piercing gaze. It felt as though his scrutiny was pulling her apart, peeling away her defensive layers until she was left exposed. Keryn wanted to find a place to hide, preferably far away from that critiquing look. Her concerns were quickly alleviated, though, as the doors opened once again at the back of the auditorium.
“Revolution Commander!” the guard yelled into the room.
As one, the people in the room rose to their feet and stood at the position of attention. They remained that way as the winged Captain Hodge made her way through the crowd. The Avalon Captain exuded an aura of command, something Keryn instantly recognized and yearned to emulate. When she had the time, Keryn would have to sit down with the Captain and learn her secrets.
Climbing the stairs, Captain Hodge called out to the audience in an authoritative tone. “Take your seats.”
As the audience sat, the Captain took her place behind the podium. “I would like to thank you all for taking the time to come to this ceremony during such difficult and trying times. I know that there remains much to be done within the Revolution, so it means that much more that you would be willing to be present for this promotion ceremony.
“Magistrate Riddell did not come to the Revolution that long ago. Going into the battle against the Empire, she was actually the most junior pilot in the Squadron. But in the face of war, we were all children. We were juvenile and immature to the difficulties that we would all confront. In those moments, when the horrors of war were cast before us, true leaders were forged from the flames of the plasma explosions erupting all around us.”
Captain Hodge looked affectionately toward Keryn, her words no longer directed at the audience. “There is an old phrase that says that leaders are not born, they’re made. Leaders learn from themselves, their superiors, their peers, and their subordinates. From conflict, they learn resolution. From pain, they learn compassion. From loss, love.
“For the first time since the signing of the Taisa Accord, you are taking control of a Squadron full of battle-tested pilots. You were selected because of the incredible accomplishments you have already performed. But I encourage you to never become complacent. Learn both your fortes and liabilities. Without understanding your own strengths and weaknesses, you can never learn of the strengths and weaknesses of your subordinates.”
Looking back at the audience, Captain Hodge continued. “My charge to Squadron Commander Riddell is to learn from all of you, but my charge to all of you is to envision yourself in her place. Understand and learn from her trials and tribulations. Once you realize the hardships that she must endure, you truly begin to appreciate the leaders appointed over you.
“Rarely have I met a more qualified, dedicated, and brave pilot as the one that I am promoting today. For that reason, along with a myriad of others, I am honored to be standing here, before you all, to promote Magistrate Riddell to the rank of Squadron Commander.”
Moving to the position of attention, the Captain’s voice carried through the room. “Publish the orders!”
As everyone rose to their feet once more, a narrator began reading the official orders that would promote Keryn from Magistrate to Squadron Commander. The responsibility felt daunting; she felt detached from her own mind as Captain Hodge walked to her side and pulled off her former rank, replacing it with the glistening wreath and decorations that signified her new one. When the Captain was done, she stepped to the side and the room erupted into clapping and cheers. Blushing slightly, Keryn walked sheepishly to the podium as the clapping died away and everyone took their seats.
Keryn cleared her throat as the room fell silent. “I struggled to find the words to express what this promotion meant to me. I thought of all those beside whom I fought during the battle. I thought of all those who sacrificed themselves so that we could be victorious against a determined and deadly enemy. I thought of Squadron Commander Garrix, my predecessor who was among those who died in the war. Somehow, words just didn’t seem to capture the depth of what I wanted to say.”
Scanning the crowd, she searched for the words to say. “I can’t say that I’m going to be the best. I’ve been told that I fought well in the battle and that’s why I’m standing here today. But fighting well when you’re by yourself behind the controls of a ship does not necessarily translate well into being a leader. I researched leadership attributes before coming here today. One of the items on the list said that you should never downplay your potential in front of your subordinates. But the truth is, I don’t know if I’m going to be a good leader. What I can guarantee is that I will do everything in my power to try to become the leader you all deserve. If I learned nothing else from this battle, it’s that I’m willing to sacrifice almost anything to accomplish my goal. Even if it means…”
Keryn paused as she caught Yen’s eye. She hadn’t even intended to look at him as she spoke, but her gaze had fallen on him inadvertently. She felt the swell of her affection for him and knew immediately what she needed to say next.
“I will do whatever it takes, even if it means sacrificing my personal relationships to ensure your safety. My job as Squadron Commander will always be my top priority and I will push aside any other trivial relationship to ensure that the relationship between Commander and pilot takes precedence.”
Looking away from Yen, Keryn addressed the rest of the crowd. “I thank you for this opportunity and I look forward to serving you all. Thank you.”
As she finished, the room once again was filled with cheers. She shook Captain Hodge’s hand as the clapping slackened and people began filing out the back door. Intentionally staying behind, Keryn struck up a conversation with the Captain, though she remembered little of what they said to one another. From the corner of her eye, Keryn watched Yen leave with Adam and the last of the audience departed. When she was sure they were gone, Keryn thanked Captain Hodge for her time and made her way out of the auditorium.
She had only made it a few paces past the door when she heard a voice behind her. “What the hell was that all about?” Yen asked, his voice edged with anger.
“You heard what I had to say,” Keryn replied without turning around. “I don’t think I could have made it much clearer.”
“No, it was quite clear. Everyone in the auditorium knew what you were talking about.”
Keryn turned around. Yen’s yellow skin was flushed with frustration. Saddened, Keryn regretted the obvious heartbreak she was putting Yen through, but she knew that she had to remain stoic in her decision.
“I have new priorities, Yen. I have pilots that are depending on me. I can’t keep wasting my time with a sidebar relationship when I have so many people expecting me to lead.”
Yen’s jaw dropped. “Wasting your time? Is that what you think we’ve been doing for the past few months? You think this has all been some big waste of time?”
Keryn kept her voice calm, despite the trembling she felt in her legs. “I’m sorry, but I made my decision.”
“You’re not sorry!” Yen yelled. “I’m looking you in the eyes and I don’t see one bit of remorse!”
Other people looked at the arguing pair. Yen’s temper had drawn the attention of the pilots and Crewmen who had remained behind, mingling in the hallway or waiting to congratulate the new Squadron Commander.
“Keep your voice down, Yen,” Keryn replied sternly.
The red drained from Yen’s cheeks and he took on a cold demeanor. “Is that a dir
ect order, ma’am?”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Yen shrugged. “You only put on that rank a couple minutes ago, but you already seem to be wearing your superior rank so well.” His choice of words seemed to ooze a sarcastic venom.
Keryn stepped closer to him until they were face to face. “Is that what this is about? Are you jealous? Well let me tell you something, Magistrate Xiao. Grow up and get over yourself. Because I know I’ve already gotten over you.”
She turned and stormed off before the startled Yen could manage a stinging retort. She didn’t care who watched as she shoved her way past the gathering crowd and onto the nearby lift. When the doors closed and she was alone, Keryn let the tears spill down her cheeks. She hadn’t meant to be so harsh, but she knew it was for the best. For the next month of travel, she wanted the chance to figure out her life and the best way to do that was to not have Yen around. And after that argument, she was pretty sure that Yen wouldn’t speak to her before they arrived at the Farimas Space Station.
Keryn took a deep breath and wiped away the tears from her eyes. She was a Squadron Commander now and needed to start acting like it. By the time the elevator doors opened on her floor, Keryn emerged with a glowing confidence that betrayed no hint of the emotional woman who had entered the lift.
Fall of Icarus Page 14
