Beyond Mars Crimson Fleet (20 page)

“Sure you will,” Colette
said as she placed both arms around his neck and kissed him again.
She then released him and took his arm. The two strolled off at a
leisurely pace towards the elevator.

“You never seem to have
time for me anymore?” Boosy questioned.

“I’ve been meaning to, but
with all that’s been happening,” Richard tried to pardon
himself.

Colette, however, was not
fooled. “Richard, that’s a poor excuse and a bad lie. I think I’m
worth more than that, don’t you?”

Richard stopped for a
moment and locked eyes with her. “Yes. Yes, you are worth far more
than that,” his voice was soft and caring.

The couple then moved
on.

“Then, what is it?” Boosy
further pried. “What is it, really?”

Richard bit his upper lip.
“Look, even though it’s been over two years, I feel I’m not ready
to get involved with someone else yet. There is still a lot of pain
and mixed feelings. I feel so confused at times. As much as she
hurt me, there is still another part of me that remembers the woman
I fell in love with—and doesn’t want to give her up. Does that make
any sense to you?”

Boosy became sympathetic
to his honesty. “I understand, Richard. I understand more than you
know. And I think it’s a terrible shame—that a woman like her can
still have the love of a man like you. She’s not worthy of it!
Richard—let her go! If not for my sake, then for your own,” Colette
squeezed Richard’s arm.

“Perhaps—one day,”
Wakinyan thought out loud.

Colette regained her smile.
“No perhaps! And that’s an order!”

Wakinyan’s grin became
wide. “Oh? And since when did you out rank me?”

“Since whenever I feel like
it,” she stated in mock defiance.

As the couple reached the
elevator, they embraced and kissed again. Richard gently kissed the
tip of her nose before letting her go, tasting a little grease. He
then released her and stepped onto the elevator. Once again he felt
a sudden slap to his bottom. He quickly turned back to see a huge
pleasing grimace on Colette’s face as the doors began to
close.

“Remind Paladin before he chews you out that your
butt belongs to me!” she teasingly called out.

Wakinyan laughed quietly as he shook his head in
wonderment of her playfulness.

* * * * *

Paladin sat alone in his
cabin as he patiently waited for Captain Wakinyan to arrive. The
room was like the man, sparse and simple in appearance save for the
huge library of books on philosophy, politics, military history,
and tactics that lined the walls. Paladin was a timeless sage who
firmly believed that those who did not learn from history—were
doomed to repeat it. However, he was not only a philosophical
warrior, but also a man of ideals driven by a single vision:
freedom from oppression. It was his core principles intertwined
with his firm belief in God that sustained this path. Paladin did
not want the Martians or their fleet to become the evil abomination
that was now the Earth’s.

But anxiety crept into
Paladin’s mind that necessitated an immediate search from the void
created in the battle over Mars. The position of deputy fleet
commander needed to be filled immediately. The next 48 hours
demanded it.

Paladin required an officer
who was a paradox unto himself: a warrior of great skill and
strength of character who lead from the front by example. He also
required the candidate to be totally contemptuous of death and
absolutely merciless towards any enemy. But most important though,
the officer was to posses considerable moral fiber; valuing
innocent life, true justice, and freedom above all else. It was a
lot to demand of any one person, but Paladin believed the answer
was contained in a single military file that he now viewed on a
holographic computer screen that floated just above his
desk.

Paladin methodically read
Wakinyan’s military record over again, assured of his decision. The
military file was as dull as any report he had ever seen, but it
served to re-enforce his own memory and opinions of the young
officer. His mind slowly drifted into the past as his eyes stopped
reading and closed.

* * * * *

Paladin had met Wakinyan many years ago during the
Arris War. After the Arris defeat at the jump-gate, many of the
remaining alien ships had tried to take cover in the rings of
Jupiter and where they came across Wakinyan’s uncle’s freighter
anchored by a small planetoid.

The Arris killed everyone aboard
the ship by making several controlled breaches in the hull. Paladin
speculated that their intention of sending a small party aboard and
moving the old cargo vessel to a chosen location was only part of a
trap. The Arris probably planned to overload the power plant of the
old ship, turning the
Soaring Eagle
into an elaborate bomb while baiting the human
warships with a false distress call from the old freighter. And it
almost succeeded.

Some of the pursuing Earth and Martian ships,
including Paladin’s cruiser, had altered course and headed directly
for the ambush area. But the Arris, however, hadn’t counted on a
lone survivor—Wakinyan—who took matters into his own hands.

Wakinyan
entered the freighter after working outside on the ship’s damaged
communication arrays and was still in his spacesuit when the Arris
breached the ship’s hull. Making his way to the bridge, Wakinyan
helplessly watched his uncle and some of the crew die from
spacing
before his very
eyes. Paladin took several minutes and tried to imagine the trauma
and anguish the young man suffered at being so powerless to stop
it. But after this brief pause, the commander’s thoughts rambled
on.

As the Arris came aboard, Wakinyan
retrieved that old Bowie knife from his uncle’s cabin. They should
have check to see if all aboard were dead, but they didn’t—a fatal
mistake. For Wakinyan then killed the entire Arris boarding party
one-by-one with that knife. He next fired-up the ship’s engines one
last time in an act of anger, revenge, and honor, sending the
freighter
at full speed into the Arris
warships. In a final act of glory, the
Soaring Eagle
took three Arris
warships with her in a blinding flash of fury of nuclear
fission.

The resulting explosion was horrific, but Wakinyan
was still alive. Using a jetpack, the young man ejected out of and
away from the doomed freighter after setting the controls. He
quickly found shelter in a small crater on the nearby planetoid
before the impact. Lashing himself inside, the floating boulder
made a hasty shield for the brave young man.

Wakinyan had barely escaped with his own life, and
although a civilian, he had been credited with saving countless
human lives while helping to destroy some of the remaining remnants
of the Arris Fleet. His actions had greatly impressed Paladin.

Paladin afterwards quickly
recommended Wakinyan for immediate induction into the Martian
Military Fleet Academy, and used every contact to make it happen.
It was a very rewarding decision, Paladin reflected. Wakinyan
proved his worth time after time. And although his record wasn’t
exactly spotless, it was a faithful chronicle of the officer’s
bravery, resourcefulness, and devotion to duty. Paladin knew there
was no one else comparable within the fleet. Wakinyan was clearly
the best choice.

* * * * *

Paladin jumped back into the present as a chime
sounded and the hatch’s intercom reverberated with a familiar
voice. “Captain Richard Wakinyan reporting as ordered, Sir.
Permission to enter.”

The old fleet commander shut down the hologram and
faced the hatchway. “Permission granted, Captain Wakinyan,” Paladin
spoke back to the intercom.

The hatch slid open and Captain Wakinyan paced in.
Once he was in, the hatch closed behind him as he marched to the
commander’s desk. Finally stopping, Wakinyan offered a perky salute
to his commanding officer as he stood at attention.

Paladin returned the
salute.

“Please, sit down,” Paladin
offered the chair in front of his desk with a hand.

Wakinyan quickly seated
himself, but stiffly sat in a military manner.

“Captain, please relax,”
Paladin said as he folded his hands. “You’re not a new
recruit.”

“Aye, Sir,” Wakinyan said
as he loosened up a bit and a slight grin formed on his
lips.

Paladin momentarily studied
his junior officer. Richard looked tired, but he was the type that
refused to acknowledge his own body’s limitations. The fleet
commander became prideful in this and then started.

“Captain, nothing in life
is ever easy, especially in the military. Even with all the
training, planning, and preparation, it’s only by the Grace of God
does one really succeed. But such matters are never without their
sacrifices. It’s taken us over thirty years to make it this far:
the dream of being a free people once again. Yet, it could all
unravel with a few poor decisions and a little bad luck,” Paladin
spoke honestly.

Richard just sat and
continued to listen. He wasn’t sure of what the commander was
driving to, but it did not sound good.

“Earlier, I was questioned by another junior officer
about leaving the rest of our people behind. Believe me, it was not
an easy choice I made, but rather one out of necessity. I could not
let the fear, hesitation, or motivation for self-gain of some
dictate the fate of others. If given those same circumstances
again, I would make the very same decision.”

Wakinyan
recognized that Paladin would never make such an admission, unless
the commander was about to ask—or order something well out of the
ordinary. Richard found his mouth becoming parched as his heart
began to race a little faster in anticipation of the
punch line
to this
sermon.

Paladin proceeded with his
thoughts. “As officers, we are expected to lead with lack of
emotion, soundness of judgment, and totally without any favoritism.
We ourselves are not supposed to be above the hard decisions made
concerning the lives of others—and at times, must share their fate.
This is in particular to the lives we are charged directly
with.”

Paladin paused for a moment
to gage his subordinate, but Wakinyan did not let his dismay
show.

“Captain, in our business,
we are all expendable. When I go, there will be someone to take my
place—and he will need to have the strength and the vision to
continue our people’s journey down the path of freedom and
self-government, which is why I’ve asked you here,” Paladin went
on.

“Sir, what are you trying
to say?” Richard asked not knowing what to expect.

“During
the battle over Mars, we lost several ships. The
Viking
was one of them.
She perished with all hands—including Deputy Commander
Noda.”

Wakinyan became somber.
“I’m sorry to hear that, Sir.”

“He was a fine officer—and
a good friend,” Paladin expressed with sadness. “But like me, he
can be replaced!”

Richard’s face twisted in
puzzlement. There seemed to be a strange fire in the old man’s
eyes, one that Wakinyan had never seen before.

The Commander of the
Martian fleet then pulled open a draw of his desk and reached in.
He retrieved a small box and then stood up.

Paladin walked around to
the front of his desk, next to where Richard sat, and stopped.
“Captain Wakinyan, rise! Face me and stand at attention!” ordered
Paladin with a no-nonsense look.

Without a thought, Richard
rose and faced his superior.

Paladin removed the lid of
the box and placed the opened container on his desk. The man then
reached over to Wakinyan’s collar and removed the captain’s
rank.

“Through the course of
human conflict, the needs of a people were so profound that great
opportunities availed themselves to the most unlikely of men and
women. In response, these men and women rose to the challenge, and
forever changed the course of history—along with their own
destinies,” Paladin’s electronic voice spoke clearly.

Richard’s
eyes peeked downward into the box and saw Paladin pick up two
single stars of rank. The captain of the
Crazy Horse
was
stunned.

“It is now your turn,
Captain Wakinyan, or should I say—Deputy Fleet Commander Wakinyan?”
Paladin’s face was determinedly fixed as he pinned the new rank
onto Wakinyan’s collar.

“Sir, you can’t do this!”
Richard objected uneasily.

Paladin sighed. “The
Martian fleet is only about twenty years old, Rich. We, for the
most part, lack the politics of our Earth counter-parts. And
although there are many fine command officers within the ranks, it
is you that presents the best choice for the survival of our
people.”

Paladin continued. “With
any military organization, most officers rigidly hold on to tactics
that they’ve been trained in. They absolutely refuse to consider
anything else. As a result, this makes any of these tactics
eventually painfully obvious—and potentially disastrous. You, on
the other hand, have no problem with rendering the unorthodox. You
make a solution to fit the problem. Most of all, as the fluidness
of battle changes, so does your strategy.”