by Daniel Gibbs
The bridge crew watched in fascination as the multi-colored salute went on and on. “Communications, transmit a picture of a broom to the fleet,” Ruth said.
Taylor looked at her quizzically. “Ma’am?”
Ruth smiled. “Something Colonel Cohen did after a successful patrol on the Rabin. It’s the signal for a clean sweep; a completely successful mission where we swept the enemy out of space.”
Taylor broke into a grin, as did a number of the personnel on the bridge. “Yes, ma’am!”
For the next hour, the bridge crew maneuvered the Lion into her berth at Canaan station, after which Ruth informed David that the ship was docked. He was still declining voice communications and remained in his cabin. She privately worried for him, but she knew that he needed space and time to grieve.
After the Lion was fully docked and secured, David received several messages from Ruth on his personal tablet, asking him to come to the bridge. Her final plea asked him to join the senior officers in the cargo bay to perform the ceremony to offload the fallen soldiers, as their caskets were the first to leave the ship. Staring ahead in a stupor, he ignored her messages. In his mind, he asked over and over, Why? On a logical level, David couldn’t quite wrap his mind around why this one death had completely wiped him out emotionally. Death was something that knocked on the door every day; it was as Seville said, a constant companion to a soldier. But this…this was different. The door chime went off, interrupting his thoughts. After a few seconds of ignoring it, the chime went off again, then again.
“Open!” he finally spat.
The hatch to his cabin unlocked and Calvin strode in. “Colonel.”
“Colonel Demood.”
“David,” Demood began, “I know what this is like. I’ve led Marines into battle for many years. I’ve seen the horrors of war and I’ve had men die in my arms.”
David looked up. “Sheila was more than just someone under my command. She was my best friend in this entire messed-up galaxy.”
Calvin made his way over to the couch David sat on and sat down beside him without preamble. “Maybe I haven’t had my best friend die under my command, I’ll give you that. Look, Cohen, you can sit down here with the lights off and allow yourself to be swallowed up by the pain. Or you can stand up, walk out of here with me, and go show Major Thompson and the rest of those who died today on this ship the honor that they deserve.”
Calvin’s words stung; his first reaction was to clap back, but he realized almost instantly that the older Marine was right. Sitting here and feeling sorry for himself was unbecoming, and if nothing else, it insulted Sheila’s memory. After a period of silence, he responded, “You’re right, Demood. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll join you in the hangar.”
Calvin put his hand on David’s shoulder. “I’ll see you shortly, Colonel,” he said.
David watched Calvin walk out of his stateroom, and then forced himself to get up. He checked his uniform to ensure it was all properly fitted and within regulation, and then he made his way to the hangar deck onboard the Lion. During his fifteen-minute walk, he passed by hundreds of crewmen and women, officers and enlisted. All of them were seemingly energized, and morale was high. Considering for a moment that most didn’t know the XO was dead, nor did any of them have the same kind of connection, he knew their reactions were normal, but it still made David mad.
The more he thought about the entire situation, the angrier he got. Reflecting back on his decision not to fire on the escape pods detaching from the Destruction, nor to fire on the remaining League cruiser, right then, David realized that if he could go back and change his decision, he’d have killed every last one of them.
As he strode into the hangar bay, there were several dozen caskets arrayed across the floor near the giant space doors. An honor guard had been assembled, and the onboard band was present. David walked down the four rows of caskets, each adorned with the flag of the Terran Coalition; wondering which one was Sheila’s, he called out to the nearest enlisted crewman, “Corporal! Which one of these contains the remains of Major Thompson?”
A ruddy-faced young man walked closer to David. “Sir! Please follow me, sir.”
After a short walk, David stood in front of a casket as the corporal gestured to it. “Major Thompson’s remains are in this one, sir.”
David glanced at the young man, still angry and sullen. “Thank you, Corporal.”
Looking around the room, he saw a single casket off to the side, its top uncovered. Furrowing his brow, David shifted his gaze back to the young corporal. “Why does that casket lack a flag?” he asked.
“Sir, that casket contains the remains of a contractor, sir. Regulations state that—”
“Which contractor, Corporal?”
“Hadi Uzun, sir.”
“The man that died on the transport?” David asked, having seen Calvin’s after-action report.
“Yes, sir.”
“The one man that kept thousands of POWs from being killed?” David said, his voice growing louder and his face turning red with anger.
“Sir, it is against regulations—”
“Do not quote regulations to me, Corporal!” David shouted. He was so close to losing control that his hand felt for the sidearm he’d been carrying earlier on his leg.
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“You will retrieve a flag and dress his casket with the proper respect it deserves. Are we clear, Corporal?”
“Crystal, sir!”
“Why are you still standing in front of me? Get moving, Corporal!”
The young man scurried off as fast as he could. Calvin and Tinetariro, who had been watching the exchange, made their way over to David.
Calvin was the first to speak. “Are you okay, sir?”
David turned toward him. “I’ll be okay if that’s what you’re asking, Colonel.”
“You seemed a little wound up there, sir.”
“The least we can do is honor their sacrifices.”
“Of course.”
Standing there, David knew he had overacted and torn a bloody strip out of a solider that was just doing his job and trying to do that job within the rules. Right now, though, that just didn’t matter. Going between hurt and anger, he was looking for targets, and a regulation that seemed to not fit the situation was a great starting point.
Calvin and Tinetariro exchanged glances with each other before Tinetariro spoke. “Sir, I must remind you that Corporal Lewis was simply following regulations and orders, sir.”
David’s eye lit up with anger as he considered what the master chief said. Control had begun to return, though, and he bit off the angry comment that leapt to mind. “Of course, Master Chief.”
David returned his gaze to Sheila’s casket. More than anything, he just wanted to see her one last time. It should be me there. I should have gone to fight the fire and died, not her. I deserve to die for all the pain and suffering I’ve caused through my actions. Not her. Forcing himself not to tear up, he turned and walked away from the rest of the people in the hangar, staring out of the force shield protected area where fighters and bombers were launched from.
David wasn’t sure how long he stared out into space considering the events of the last week. At some point, he was snapped out of his thoughts by a voice speaking to him from behind.
“Colonel,” Kenneth Lowe, the program manager for the contractors said quietly.
It took David a few moments to process Kenneth’s presence and turn toward him. “Kenneth.”
“Sir, I wanted to thank you for the respect extended to Hadi. He was a good man. One of my best field electronics engineers.”
“He deserved nothing less.”
“It’s been an honor, sir.”
David turned his head to see Kenneth extending his hand. He reached forward and shook it firmly. “That feels like goodbye.”
“You’re not the only one that has a knack for breaking regulations, sir,” Kenneth said with some level of levity.
“You weren’t supposed to stay on the ship after we put into space?”
“No, sir. I was specifically ordered not to do that.”
“If you hadn’t, we wouldn’t be here. Only God knows how bad it would have been.”
“That doesn’t matter to SSI leadership. I’ve been given a choice between termination or resigning.”
David turned around fully to face Kenneth. “You’ve got to be shitting me,” he said, the anger rising in him again.
“No, sir. Don’t worry, you’re in good hands with my deputy. He and the rest of the team will see you through.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Kenneth. How are you going to fight it?”
“Honestly, sir, I can’t, in good conscience, continue to work for the man I report to. I’m going to resign… that’ll make it easier to find another job. Perhaps someone will want to hire me. I’ll be back on CDF special programs in a week.” At the sight of a frown from David, Kenneth pressed on. “It’s okay, sir. The only thing that counts is the mission.”
David reflected on the harsh reality that, at times, regardless if what you did was the right thing, if you ran afoul of the system, the system would grind you down. “Good luck out there,” he finally replied before extending his hand one more time. The two men shook hands firmly before Kenneth departed without further words, leaving David to his mental anguish.
After what seemed like an eternity spending time alone with his thoughts, the space station’s honor guard was ready for the ceremonial removal of the fallen. Joined by an honor guard from the Marines onboard the Lion, as well as a couple of musicians from the band, they all assembled just outside of the hangar bay on what was referred to as the docking slip. The musicians began to play the hymn “Amazing Grace” as the pallbearers carried the caskets from the ship down the gangway to the awaiting vehicles for transport. It was, in many ways, a repeat of the ceremony David had participated in just two weeks prior on the Rabin. David’s hand snapped to his brow in salute as each casket was carried down the gangway. The biggest difference between that dark day two weeks ago and today was that Sheila was not at his side. Instead, she was in one of the caskets. His heart broke in a way he had never felt as they carried her away.
Another difference was that some of the families of those lost had been able to make it to the docking slip along with members of the press. David bristled at the intrusion of the media; in his mind, they had no place in this, the most solemn of rituals performed by the CDF. As each casket was unloaded, one of the members of the honor guard announced the name of the fallen solider. If the family was present, David could hear their sobs as the casket came forward.
Fighting to keep himself stoic in the face of the immense anguish he felt, David heard Hadi Uzun’s name announced. As the flag-draped casket that contained Uzun’s remains was taken down the gangway, a woman, whom David immediately assumed was his wife, tore across the rope line that separated the onlookers from the ceremony. She rushed the casket, nearly toppling it from the anti-grav sled it had been placed on, crying in agony at the top of her lungs and holding on to the casket containing her husband as it moved down the gangway.
A number of members of the honor guard exchanged glances, but no one wanted to be the one to pry her away from the casket. As the ranking officer, David knew that task belonged to him. Walking across the gangway, he made his way over to the woman and put his hand on her shoulder. She turned to look at him, despair, grief, and pure sadness etched into her face.
“Why?” she said between sobs. “He’d been medically discharged. He wasn’t even in the military,” she said in heavily accented English.
“Mrs. Uzun?” David asked, and she nodded. “I didn’t have the privilege to know your husband. I know he joined the rescue mission for the POWs because he felt he was the only man that could do the job. His sacrifice saved the lives of thousands. It’s a small comfort, but you should be proud of him,” David managed to get out in a level voice.
She took her hands off the casket and stood up tall. “That sounds like him. Always trying to right a wrong,” she stated as tears streamed down her face.
David stepped forward and embraced her, then guided her back to the area reserved for the families. They stood there together as the rest of the caskets were removed. Sheila’s was the last to go due to her position as the XO. As soon as her name was announced, he stiffened. Try as he might, he could not hold in his emotions. He cried openly as her casket proceeded down the gangway.
Uzun’s wife took note and put her hand on his. “A friend?” she asked.
“My best friend in this crazy universe that we live in,” David replied.
“I am so sorry.”
“I hate this war,” David said.
“Uzun used to say that it was better to die on our feet than live on our knees.”
David turned his head. “Wise words.”
A few moments later, Sheila’s casket was loaded into a vehicle and left the docking slip. The honor guard and those assembled began to depart. After saying his goodbyes to Uzun’s wife, he stood on the dock for a long time. Eventually, General MacIntosh roused David out of his contemplation. He briefed the general on the battle and what happened with the League peace delegation. Seeing that David’s heart was crushed, MacIntosh let him go and decided to resume the conversation later, but not before telling him that he and the command staff of the Lion were to be present the next day at a joint press conference with the President of the Terran Coalition and Chief Minister of the Saurian Empire.
Several hours later, David returned to his stateroom on the Lion. As he walked through the door, he tugged off his uniform sweater. After adjusting the lights to his liking, he sat on the couch for a while. David still could not make sense of the events in recent days; he was certainly not at peace with the fact that he would never see Sheila again. Trying to focus on a problem he could solve to take his mind off the pain, he decided to track down someone higher up the chain at SSI and talk to them about Kenneth and his team. Pulling out his tablet, he made a video call to SSI’s main headquarters. After the link connected, a smiling young woman’s face filled this screen. “Strathclyde Shipboard Integrators, how may I help you?” David attempted a smile in return.
“Hello. I’d like to speak with Margaret Lee, please.”
“I’m sorry, but Ms. Lee is in a meeting.”
“It’s very important I speak with her, Miss.”
“Who may I ask is calling?”
“Colonel David Cohen, Commanding Officer, CSV Lion of Judah.”
There was a pregnant pause from the young woman as she processed David’s rank, name, and the name of his ship. “The Colonel Cohen?” she asked in surprise.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Wait one moment, please. I’ll get her for you straight away.”
The screen switched to the SSI logo with an infomercial playing in the background. Pondering for a moment how joyless everything seemed, he realized that what just happened should be funny to him, but he could only barely muster a small smile. “What’s wrong with me?” he asked absentmindedly, even though no one was there to hear him.
A moment later, Margaret Lee appeared on the tablet. “Colonel Cohen, such a pleasure to speak to you today. What can I do for you, sir?”
“Thank you for taking my call, Ms. Lee. I’m reaching out to you to discuss your contracting team led by Kenneth Lowe.”
“Is there a problem, Colonel?” Margaret asked, her facial expression betraying concern.
“Not per se, at least, not at this time. I would like to let you know that the actions of your team, and especially those of its leadership, including Mr. Lowe, as far as I’m concerned, were in the finest traditions of the Coalition Defense Force.”
“I see,” she forced out. “Were you aware of Mr. Lowe’s plan to stay onboard the ship when it put into space?”
“I was. In discussions with him, we determined that his team staying onboard was the only
way to get the ship operational in case all of its functions were needed. Which…they were.”
“I wasn’t aware of that, Colonel. I thought it was simply a decision by Mr. Lowe. He is an outstanding program manager, but he can be rash.”
David smiled. “I have been called worse in my career, ma’am.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “I understand there may be some…impediments to Mr. Lowe continuing to support the Lion.”
“Ah, perhaps. I can’t really comment on that, Colonel. It’s an internal matter, as I’m sure you can understand.”
“Of course. But I would be remiss if I didn’t tell you that I view his continued support of this vessel as vital to our ongoing mission to defend the Terran Coalition. I hope that carries the appropriate weight with you and his other superiors.”
Margaret pursed her lips together. “Of course, I understand, Colonel. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“No, ma’am—just keep the upgrades to my ship coming and a solid team to work on my ship.”
“Thank you, Colonel. Good day.”
“Good day, Ms. Lee.” David pressed the button to disconnect the call. He was confident that the message had been received. Now he would try to go to bed and prepare himself for a joint press conference tomorrow with the leaders of both the Terran Coalition and the Saurian Empire. The funerals were still being scheduled, but Sheila would be given full military honors. He understood President Spencer would be attending in person. He knew that just getting through them would be difficult. After that, he somehow had to get himself ready to go back out to fight. Leaning his head back on the couch, he wondered if he would ever be right again.
39
Obi Sherazi, the chief minister of the Saurian Empire’s governing body, walked with a small group of advisors and his security detail toward what the Terrans called the “South Briefing Room” within their governmental complex on Canaan. The Saurians were a race of bi-pedal humanoid aliens that the Terran Coalition had encountered roughly two centuries before. The two races had fought several hot wars and experienced a period of a cold war before relations warmed and they became, if not allies, at least trading partners that considered each other friends. Saurians, in general appearance, lacked hair; the tops of their heads were instead a colorful patch of scales. Sherazi had visited the complex on numerous occasions, as he had been attempting to act as a broker between both the Terran Coalition and the League of Sol in the interests of creating a lasting peace. The last twenty-four hours had seen both the high-water mark for those efforts, followed by the realization that the League simply had no honor. There wouldn’t be a peace unless the League was defeated militarily first.
