“The destroyer that humbled a battleship” quickly added to the ship’s reputation. The bravery and skill of Wakinyan and his crew was a source of unimaginable pride for all. It became a symbol of the moral determination of a planet to be free. Furthermore, with its rescue by the Ariana, it linked the Martians and the mutants together as one people, just as Wakinyan had sought.
A berth awaited the gallant destroyer, but towing her was slow due to her twisted and distorted hull that resisted the magnet mooring lines. Regardless, a procession of the Martian warships steadily formed up behind her. The combat vessels assumed their squadron formations, which progressed into the strangest looking victory parade. Many limped in, battered and damaged, others were so wrecked that they had to be towed themselves. Debris and puffs of particles drifted everywhere. From the pierced hulls of the ships it came, leaving a wide and obvious trail of wounds suffered from the battle. Yet, none were deterred heedless of their condition. In a massive show of reverence and pride, the Martian fleet unwaveringly followed behind the Crazy Horse to their new home world.
To Tara, however, it was Wakinyan who was more important than the deserted hulk. Her feet flew as she quickly jogged back to her cabin. As she came upon the marine guards outside the hatch, she slowed and then stopped.
“Has he stirred?” she asked the corporal of the guard.
“No, Ma’am,” the marine said with a slight smile. “And I have looked in on him several times.”
“Thank you!” she gratefully appreciated the corporal’s concern. She then quietly slipped in.
As Tara carefully walked through the blackened room, her eyes slowly grew accustomed to the darkness. However, as she drew closer to Wakinyan, she noticed that his knife was missing from the table. A sudden panic gripped the woman, along with a chilling fear of the deadly weapon. She promptly advanced to Richard’s side.
Quickly scanning Wakinyan with her mind and eyes, Tara became relieved. He was sleeping safe and soundly, while the missing weapon was held firmly in the hand of Wakinyan’s broken right arm. Tara let out a quiet sigh. She then hesitantly leaned over and placed a small, but tender kiss upon his forehead and then brushed his hair gently with her fingertips.
The woman wandered behind her desk and sat down. Knowing that Wakinyan went no where without that knife, it was easy for her to assume that is was probably as much of a security blanket to him as it was anything else.
Giving it no further thought, Tara settled into her new duties, and powered-up her command computer. She began methodically reviewing the damage and status reports of her small taskforce of freighters and supply ships. War for the moment was over, and they were greatly needed to help sustain her new home world and all the human beings of it.
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