“Never in my entire life,” James answered. “That’s really weird. The breach in the hull just seemed to slowly disappear.”
“What do you think they’re doing?”
“Who knows? Maybe their giving themselves a tan,” Randall joked.
“I hate to see what they look like with or without one,” Boosy’s mind imagined several ghastly and unearthly forms, prowling the darkened inner depths of the ship. “Does Rich know about this?” she wondered.
“Yup. Even tried to communicate with them,” James informed her, “but the conversation was a bit one-sided.”
“What did he say?”
Randall paused for a moment. “Well, he thanked them for protecting our ships and said they were welcomed here. He said they were free to leave at anytime. And then he told them that the Earth Fleet was on its way here, and that we were going to engage them in battle. If they couldn’t get out, we would protect them.”
“And?” Boosy’s curiosity grew.
James turned and looked at the auburn woman. “They didn’t answer.”
“That’s it?” Boosy was surprised.
“That’s it,” James validated.
“Where’s Rich now?” questioned Boosy.
Again James paused. “Officially, he’s inspecting the ship. Unofficially—he’s in the chapel.”
Boosy was taken back. “That’s one place I thought he’d never go in,” her voice went soft.
Randall frowned. “I guess he has a lot on his mind—and needs to talk to someone about it.”
“Thanks,” Colette said as she rushed away.
* * * * *
There was an ancient adage that the older, more experienced Martian Marines acknowledged as pure truth; “There are no atheists in a foxhole.” This axiom was reflected in the thinking of the vast majority of Martians who were followers in the Christian faith. In these waning moments before the battle, all prayed for their deliverance from the Crimson Fleet. But this was not the first plague cast onto the Martians by the Earth’s government.
Although the main reason for immigration to Mars was due to monetary gain, a developing harrying by the state’s growing nondenominational sponsored church made the decision of relocation quite easy. In the name of peace and harmony, The Order carefully manipulated men and women to join in the same belief system that The Order considered as correct and suitable—their own. This was to help rid the human race of internal strife and conflicts as well as any dissent within the masses. It became the mantra of the one world government as all religions were slowly targeted for elimination. But many still practiced the values they were brought up in, regardless of the growing danger.
The Martian fleet Commander was no different in this. Somewhere inside, he still believed in the God he was brought up to respect and love. Driven by the innocent child within, Richard Wakinyan knelt humbly before the altar of his ship’s chapel and the large crucifix that was raised behind it. With the hatch closed, he came to face both his demons—and his Creator.
Richard’s doubts grew in the time he had left the Mariner, giving way to an undeniable realization. Regardless of how furiously the Martians fought the next day, the battle was beyond his control. Furthermore, what Paladin had said came to pass: all eyes were upon him now, seeking salvation from certain death. But Wakinyan knew that he, their deliverer, was not able to bequeath this from his own skill and cunning alone, nor from bravery of his fleet. It was going to take someone bigger than all of them combined to grant victory, and rescue the Martians from their plight.
It had been many years since Richard had uttered a single word of prayer. Not since before the death of his uncle and his friends aboard the Soaring Eagle had he sought consolation with the Lord. For Wakinyan had blame God for their deaths, and questioned why good people had to die so horribly. It had been a question he saw no answer to, save but one: if God wouldn’t protect the helpless and destroy the wicked—then he would.
The Lakota fought tenaciously as a fierce and rampaging tiger, ripping his enemies apart and watching them perished before him. Yet, with each small victory, more foes came to replace them, for evil filled the universe with its minions. And in the end, Wakinyan realized that he was still but a mere man whose limits were quite evident in the lives he could not save.
Yet in the dawning of every new day, Wakinyan’s eyes were opened a little wider. He was not alone in this struggle. There were many like him, men and women who stood against the menacing and immoral at their own peril. Perhaps, these men and women—like him—were God’s solution to the vile that plagued the cosmos, helped occasionally by miracle or two. However, it was a miracle or two Richard needed now.
With bowed head, Richard prayed as he had never done before. He prayed until tears rolled from his eyes; he prayed until his soul lay bared and emptied before the Lord. For the weight of the leadership he never wanted, fell heavy upon his shoulders, and all that was important to him now were the many precious lives that he had been entrusted with. Abandoning all pride, he begged and pleaded with God for every one of them. And from the genuineness and love in his own heart, he readily offered up a sacrifice: his own in exchange.
Finally, he ran out of words and waited, hoping for some sign—anything. But in the many minutes that passed, none came, and slowly with every passing second, he felt more and more foolish.
Suddenly, Richard heard the hatch behind him open and he quickly wiped the wet sorrow from his face. After blessing himself with the sign of the cross, he stood up and turned in a military manner to face the intruder. It was Boosy.
She wore a thin cloaked smile, but seemed afraid to approach. “Am I interrupting something?” Colette was respectful.
Richard smiled. “No. Not a thing,” he lied.
Colette walked up to him and kissed him on the mouth. “I was wondering what it would take to get you in here with me,” she tried to joke.
But Richard cast his eyes down for a moment as his jaw tightened.
“Sorry,” she apologized and kissed him again. Boosy then hugged him as hard as she could. “I know you have a lot on your mind—but I didn’t want to leave things unfinished between us—in case something happened.”
Wakinyan’s arms encircled her in a loving embrace. “Nothing is going to happen,” Richard tried to sound upbeat.
Boosy kissed him a third time. “I think—it’s out of your hands, Commander,” the words stumbled out of Colette’s mouth. “I have a feeling that—that I’m not going to see you again!”
“What do you mean?”
For a moment, Colette looked away from him as her eyes filled with tortured distress. “I don’t think I’m going to live past tomorrow!” she said near to tears.
Richard felt her fear reach up into him and touch his soul. It was as if a black shroud surrounded the woman and entwined her in its shadow, and this impression of death chilled his spine.
“Boosy, I won’t let anything happen to you! I won’t let you die! I’ll stop them! I swear it!” Richard honestly promised with a renewed vigor and determination to defy the premonition.
His noble selfless chivalry and his love delighted Colette’s heart. “You’re many wonderful things, Rich—but you’re not God! This is something you can’t stop!”
However, Wakinyan became angry. “I won’t have you believing in a self-fulfilling prophecy! I am giving you a direct order! You are to remain with the civilian ships!” he demanded.
“If it’s going to happen, there is no way you can protect me—and I will not leave my squadron!”
But Richard was insistent, as his voice began to waver. “You will do as you are told!”
“No!” Boosy cried back softy. “I won’t!”
Suddenly, Richard’s eyes expelled a few tears. “Damn it!” his voice trailed to a whisper. “I don’t want to lose you too! I don’t want to lose you too!” as his hug quickly tightened.
“You won’t!?
?? Boosy comforted in return, “I’ll always be with you!”
The two frail human beings then kissed—and loved each other in a lasting farewell as the minutes ticked by.
* * * * *
It was some time later that Boosy walked into the sickbay of the Crazy Horse. Medical specialists hurriedly sped passed her to board the last departing shuttles.
A nurse, however, called backed to Rhianna, “Doctor, we’re all packed and leaving!”
“Good!” Rhianna said as she packed the last of her things. “I’ll join you there in a few minutes.”
It was then that Colette decided to step in front of her. “Going somewhere, doctor?” she asked.
Rhianna looked up and was surprised to see the auburn woman whom she knew as Richard’s girl friend. The blonde, however, took it in stride. “Your Boy Scout has just decided to commit suicide with his ship. But at least he has the decency to order all non-essential personnel off,” the doctor gloated.
For a minute, no other words were exchanged. Boosy, however, seethed silently in anger as the doctor finished packing.
Rhianna closed her case and stood up. “I hope all you soldiers have a nice little war. I’ll be sure to drink a toast to your memory—when I’m back on Earth!” she added nastily.
As Rhianna began to leave, Boosy suddenly grabbed the surgeon by the arms and pushed her down on an examination table.
“Doctor, you aren’t getting back to Earth!” Boosy loudly articulated point blank. “While Rich was busy rescuing those colonists from Cramer’s World, he managed to pick up a few deserters from the enemy’s flagship. One of them was Commander Trager, the Quinton’s first officer! And he brought us some interesting news. The Earthers are going to wipeout this entire fleet—and that includes you!” Boosy informed the woman as shock and fear filled Rhianna’s eyes.
“Isn’t it ironic; the very people you’ve ridiculed and insulted over the years are the same ones you need to save your precious little neck!” Colette continued. “To tell you the truth, I don’t think anyone is going to live through this. But I’ll be damned if I let you walk out of here without telling you what I think!”
From a pocket, Colette pulled out a memory wafer and tossed it upon Rhianna’s chest. “I stumbled across that about a year ago. It’s a letter of resignation from the service by Richard. He wrote it just before you filed for divorce,” Boosy’s face was flushed with indignation. “Go ahead, take a look at it! To please you, he was going to give up all the things he loved the most! And you know why—because he loved you even more!”
With a shaky hand, Rhianna reached out and picked the wafer up to study it.
But Colette gave her no respite. “You self-centered little bitch, that is one hell of a man out there! You know what he’s about to do? He is going to pump all of the air out of every warship in the fleet and fight in space suits! That’s so the fleet will be able to take a tremendous pounding while inflicting the most damage it can—before it’s destroyed! Better to lose the entire Martian Battle Fleet than to have every man, woman, and child slaughtered. That’s why he’s emptying this ship. He’s giving you and as many people as he can a chance to live. This, while sacrificing his own life in return.”
Rhianna looked up into Colette’s face and saw an expression of pure hate.
“Well, I guess you better get to your shuttle before it leaves,” Colette snickered. “But if you ever get to make your toast, remember this; Richard Wakinyan is a damn fool! But not for the reasons you think. It’s because deep down inside, he is still in love with you! And whatever he sees in you—is surely blind to the rest of us!”
Boosy then departed as quickly as she came, leaving Rhianna alone in the sickbay. For a moment, the woman seemed unfazed by the squadron leader’s speech, but unexpectedly, she began to sob.
“What have I done?” Rhianna finally saw the truth in her own contemptible actions. Suddenly, an immense stabbing pain struck her in the back of her head like a sharp knife. In a short scream, the doctor reeled and fell to the floor in agony. Mercifully, however, she slipped into unconsciousness.
* * * * *
As Wakinyan wandered unto the bridge of the Crazy Horse, James saw the irritation on the Lakota’s face. Wakinyan’s eyes were slightly squinted and angry, while his body was tense like a wound spring. Randall immediately recognized his friend was in a foul mood, but James pretended not to notice.
“Kind of quiet up here,” Randall tried some small-talk to lighten things up.
“It won’t be for long!” Richard’s stern voice promised retribution for the hated Earthers. “What do you have to report?”
James rubbed his eyes in tiredness. “Well—the fleet’s getting there. However, it doesn’t seem like there’s enough equipment, personnel—or time to go around.”
“As for us, repairs from our previous adventures are still ongoing. Marcus has just laid the last of the redundant control cables. All spacesuits have been checked and declared functional. The magnetic reflector shield plates have been mounted on the bow and all other critical areas of the ship along with being covered with a heavy coating of Aerogel to improve heat resistance and scattering of any laser energy. The ion field generators are also in place. Should we be targeted by any electron-accelerator cannons, the entire hull will be highly charged to their negative polarity and hopefully slow or dissipate most of the energy of their blast. But just how much protection that’ll really afford us is debatable.”
“What about the lasers?”
“Per your orders, all rods for both the main gun and secondary lasers will fire at once, their power cables have been tripled to accommodate the increased load, and the safeties have been removed for sustained fire. But that worries me; they’ll be drawing a lot more power, which means they’re going to get really hot! If any of the laser rods burn out or crack from the heat under combat—they’ll be no way to repair them.”
“What about the alternate power source?” Richard questioned further.
“If we lose all power from the converters, gravity will be compartmentalized and sustained for about three minutes—provided the main flux condenser is not destroyed. For our weapons, we have one, maybe two shots with the main gun from the improvised battery power. No more! Secondary lasers will have enough stored energy to fire for about 15 seconds.” Jim then smirked in a laugh, “That should be enough to take at least one more of those bastards with us!”
The remark shook Wakinyan out of his funk. He marveled at Randall’s total support, regardless of what was probably a certain end. “You know something, Jim? You’re a damn good friend!” Richard admitted.
“It will be a good day!” Randall repeated Wakinyan’s favorite expression.
Wakinyan finally smiled. “Anything else?” he relaxed.
Randall returned his smile. “Ah, yes—the newly appointed General Franks.”
“What did he do now?” curiosity bade Wakinyan.
“Remember how you said he could have twenty shuttles to arm with missiles,” James reminded Wakinyan of a previous consent.
“Yeah,” Wakinyan recalled the decision induced by the marine officer’s insistence of their participation in the coming battle. “With him acting as a decoy, it makes sense not to leave them defenseless. So what’s the problem?”
James threw his head back. “Well apparently, he can’t count so good—he’s armed over a hundred of them! And that’s not all, he got every type of weapon he could beg, borrow, or steal. And they are some of the weirdest looking contraptions I’ve ever seen!” Randall faithfully reported. “I think he has some crazy notion about him and his marines taking on the Earthers by all themselves.”
Wakinyan just chuckled softly. “Jarheads!”
* * * * *
On rim of the Magnus Sol System, the Crimson Fleet licked its wounds as each vessel finished the last of their repairs. However, shock still reverberated through every ship at the
damage the eight Martian destroyers had inflicted. The fleet’s reputation of invincibility lay shattered in the ruined and burned-out hulks that had once been the pride of Earth’s mightiest armada. Although two obsolete Martians destroyers had paid the ultimate price for the insult, more than a score of various Earth vessels were destroyed with them and many others damaged. It was a humiliating defeat.
On the bridge of the Quinton, Selena stewed in her own venom and malevolence. Once again the Martians had humbled her, but this time they succeeded only because of the help by Trager and his mutineers. The damage was so extensive to her fleet that it required nearly a day’s worth of overhauling and replacement to make the crimson ships fully operational again.
The battle matrix system was back online as well, but only because the needed spare parts were stripped out of the Ruthann. However, it crossed Selena’s mind that should there be any more traitors about; sabotage to the matrix at a critical moment was still a possibility. This thought angered her even more, and she vowed that this would not happen again.
“CAPTAIN RENEE!” Darius yelled out near the top of her lungs.
Renee’s head spun to Selena’s demanding tone. He then abruptly ended a conversation with the damage control officer and turned to her. Quickly leaving the man behind, Renee swiftly paced to Selena’s side.
Darius sat in her command chair like relaxing on a couch. However, her face was contorted in the lines of hate and revenge.
“Renee, how long until all repairs to the fleet are made?” Selena interrogated her subordinate.
“All ships will be fully functional within the hour, Admiral,” the captain briefed the woman cyborg.
Selena motioned Renee closer with an index finger. “This is an order you will carry out without question! Do you understand?” she asked in deadly earnest.
The sound of Selena’s voice alarmed Renee, but he stood ready to comply. “Yes, Admiral,” he acknowledged.
“Good,” Selena was not in the mood for any back talk. “When the fleet has completed all repairs, this is what you will do!” and she began to explain what she had in mind.
Renee listened intently to Darius’ order. However, the command was one he could not believe. The more she spoke, the more he was convinced that she was obsessed—and perhaps bordered on madness. Still, he accepted her military decree, and once she finished, he began to make the necessary preparations to carry it out.