Beyond Mars Crimson Fleet (25 page)

Abner stared into a long nothingness as his face
expanded into greater shock at the reason for Laura’s death. Then
unexpectedly his features tightened into a sharp sneer while his
face filled with rage. “I’m going to kill that bitch!”

“In due time,” Trager patted Abner on the knee in
condolence. “In due time!” he uttered again, but in a more vengeful
tone.

The car—and destiny then continued on their way.

* * * * *

Chapter 15: Stalking the
Colonists

The space around Cramer’s
World was as beautiful as it was serene. Nebulas colored in deep
watery blues, emerald greens, and candy apple reds floated and
swirled above the planet in a dazzling display of spectral delight.
Even the stars were artistically placed as they illuminated the
heavens from single celestial entities to entire galaxies. Laid
skillfully by the God’s Hands, it was a true wonder to
behold.

But something else stirred
within the peaceful ether, something that was not natural, but
forebodingly cold and evil. The space around the dying world began
to ripple as the space-time continuum bent to the forces of massive
hyper engines that formed deep swirling gravity wells. Suddenly,
countless huge cones of scarlet energy burst the confines of space
to materialize holes that connected one dimensional plane to
another. A vast armada of ships, colored in blood red, then spewed
from the openings as if the gates of hell itself were torn opened.
The Crimson Fleet once again arrived to murder and
destroy.

Aboard
the
Quinton
,
Admiral Darius entered the bridge and seated herself in her command
chair. She gazed directly at Trager with her dark and haunting
eyes. “Status report!” her tone was demanding.

Trager defiantly returned her gaze. “Everything is
quiet, Admiral,” he informed her as a military professional.
“There’s no ship traffic or communications signals whatsoever. They
may have already fled.”

Selena snickered. “It doesn’t matter. We’ll catch up
with them. Move the fleet closer to the planet and target all
installations,” she said unconcerned.

“Aye, Ma’am,”

* * * * *

As the Earth fleet moved
towards the planet, no one considered the battle satellites that
were rotating around to face the red ships. Although such movement
was normal, their electronic eyes pinpointed every position of
every ship that advance towards the dying world.

Without
warning the orbiting weapon platforms unleashed a barrage of laser
bolts and missiles at the unsuspecting fleet. Although the ships
were highly maneuverable and heavily armored, within moments
several ships were blown apart in halos of turbulent energy and
shimmering dust. However, even more ships were damaged by a single
laser bolt or missile hit. This included the
Quinton
as a laser strike punctured a
small section of her hull.

“WHAT THE
HELL IS GOING ON!” Selena lost her temper as the
Quinton
rocked from the
direct hit.

“The planetary battle satellites,” Trager’s
deposition remained cool as he monitored the situation on a sensor
panel. “Their defense systems have been activated—and their access
codes have been changed.”

“DESTROY THEM!” Darius demanded.

Within a minute of her order, the battle satellites
were blown apart by the massive salvos from Selena’s fleet. They
fell to the planet below in chunks of burning metal that lit the
skies in streaking burning ambers. The fleet then reformed around
the planet and began to systematically target every building,
installation, and city. Minutes later, Cramer’s World was truly a
dead planet.

Trager looked at the world that was smothered in
smoke and destroyed by the bombardment. He felt a stinging sadness
within himself. He hoped that all the colonists were gone, for
surely there were no survivors on the planet’s surface below.

“That should about do it!” Selena broke her silence,
admiring her fleet’s handy work. “Now, search the system and find
those ships!”

Trager glanced at his commanding officer. “You still
think the mutants are here, Admiral?”

“Yes, I do!” Selena
demeanor was hateful. “Paladin and only a handful of his most
trusted captains know the location of Valamars. They wouldn’t have
shared that information with anyone. And since the Martians could
not have beaten us here, the
freaks
must still be around somewhere. Now find those
ships, at once!”

Trager nodded in agreement and went about his
duties, but inside his heart, he prayed that all of the colonists
had left the system. If they hadn’t, their deaths were almost
guaranteed.

* * * * *

Chapter 16: The Boy
Scout

As
the
Crazy Horse
and
the seven other Martian destroyers raced through the ever swirling
and dangerous dimensional field of hyperspace, they held a loose
“cone” formation. This was standard operating procedure to ensure
that none of the ships would collide with each other while still
maintaining close enough distance for visual contact. However, for
the
Crazy Horse
,
formational flying was more than just unusual.

In all the sorties and battles it had taken part in,
the ship normally acted as a singular knight-errant apart from the
rest of the Martian fleet. She was the dependable scout who blazed
a trail for others to follow; the master of the “hit-and-run” who
wreaked havoc in the enemy’s rear; and the gallant rescuer who
searched for crews of lost ships and brought them safely home. Yet,
she nearly always acted alone. And like her captain—Richard
Wakinyan—the ship took on mystical connotations among many in the
enlisted ranks within the fleet. In their minds, both the man and
the ship were forged together as one, and their retold but somewhat
exaggerated tales of heroics were inseparable.

However, Wakinyan, the man and not the mythical-like
legend, was acutely in need of a break from his tiresome duties.
With a lull in the mission, he decided on a quick bite of food
before getting a little needed sleep.

The mess
hall of the
Crazy Horse
was no different from any other ship. It was held continuously
open for the rotating shifts of crewmen. Even though a donut and
some coffee were not a banquet, they appeased any hunger pains
until the next meal. It also served as a temporary haven from the
reality of shipboard life and the rigors of combat. Even for
Wakinyan, this became an essential part of his
routine.

At this late hour, however, there were no waiting
crewmen to be served. So he quickly snatched a metal tray and made
his way down the line.

The choices of entrées were limited to some cold
sandwiches and a host of leftovers from the dinnertime meal, none
of which looked very appealing. With a slight groan of
disappointment, Wakinyan placed a bit of stew and a cup of coffee
on his tray. He then turned and left the line, looking for a spot
to sit and eat.

The mess hall still held quite a few crewmen and
marines sitting about, sharing jokes and scuttlebutt. Richard
sometimes envied them, wishing he could drop the military protocol
and join in. But as Wakinyan approached each isolated group, their
voices trailed off to a whisper until he had passed. This was the
price of being an officer, let alone deputy commander of the fleet,
and he knew that this would never change. Still, Wakinyan sought a
little conversation and companionship. He trudged onward.

Perhaps it was a coincidence or an act of
providence, but there was someone else sitting alone. She was a bit
older than he remembered, probably because she looked so weary. Yet
even in her medical scrubs, her physical beauty was still evident.
Richard Wakinyan found himself being drawn closer to the woman he
had once shared life with, his ex-wife, Rhianna Bryan.

Rhianna was lost in her exhaustion and tribulations.
In all the years she had spent as a doctor, she had never seen
anything like this before; countless numbers of people mangled
beyond description and dying; and all packed within the confines of
the small ship. The remembrance of their sanguine life fluid,
splattered and saturated on her surgical garments, was so vivid
that she didn’t want to touch the clothing again. So she threw them
all away. But the memory of the moaning—and sometimes screams—still
gouged her thoughts with their pain.

Her fork carelessly played with a piece of food
before picking it up. For a moment, it froze in her hand before it
was placed in her mouth. She just didn’t want to think about it
anymore. She then mechanically began to chew the unidentifiable
piece of cuisine. As she forced it down, her tired eyes and mind
did not sense Wakinyan’s presence.

“May I sit down,” Wakinyan asked her in a gentle and
soft tone.

Rhianna’s head quickly spun to Richard’s voice in
surprise.

“I’m sorry,” he said as he saw the shock in her
face. “I didn’t mean to startle you. Please, may I sit down?”

For a moment, she did know what to say or do.
Richard’s unexpected company seemed to heighten her resentment of
the situation. He also brought with him something far worse: the
feelings and memories of their courtship, marriage—and divorce.

Rhianna had once loved
Richard very much and had been most happy to share life with him.
But somewhere things had changed along with losing her appreciation
of being just an officer’s wife. A newly found ambition had
romanticized a different path to happiness and recognition: through
corporate parties, politics, and intrigues. The military, however,
had a conventional monotony that was devoid of such pleasures and
sins.

It simply did not fit into
her plans, and eventually—neither did Richard. Regardless of his
blind love, false accusations, arguments, and demeaning verbal
assaults became his reward. Finally, when Rhianna felt she could no
longer allow him to stand in her way, she ended their marriage. In
her mind, it was all his and the military’s fault. Yet, the pain of
overwhelming guilt and regret tugged at her heart every time she
looked at him, which she could not rationalize or
explain.

“If you rather be alone,”
Richard considered her feelings, “I can find another
table.”

For a moment, she wondered
what she should do. But with a frown, her head nodded to the seat
across from her. Richard gave her a small, quick smile. He then
quickly paced to the chair and sat down.

For a minute, Richard stared at Rhianna in
contemplation while trying to meet her eyes. She kept her head
deliberately bowed down, however, as she slowly ate.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve sat down and
eaten together,” Wakinyan attempted a conversation.

However, Rhianna just kept eating in silence. With a
sip of coffee, Wakinyan studied his ex-wife a little more.

“Rhianna, I wanted to apologize for being so hard on
you back there in the shuttle bay,” Richard’s softer side began to
show. “Look, we’re both under tremendous amount of pressure. I know
how horrible it was in there—and that you were just venting your
frustration,” Wakinyan excused her behavior, “but damn it, you
cannot go around insulting a captain on his ship. Please,
understand I have to maintain discipline and order. If I don’t,
then the next time the ship gets into serious trouble, I could lose
her—and all aboard,” he tried to reason with her.

Richard paused for a few seconds to judge her
reaction. Still Rhianna kept her head down.

“Rhianna, we’re not that much different,” Richard’s
words tried to reach into her. “Lives depend on what we both do—or
what we fail to do. We are not that much different at all.”

After Wakinyan finished, he sat motionless, waiting
for a replied. It was not long in coming, as Rhianna lifted her
head to finally look at him.

“So you’ve apologized,” her voice was cold. “Is that
all you wanted?”

Wakinyan wasn’t sure what was going on in Rhianna’s
mind. He wasn’t sure if time had softened her heart—or hardened it.
He was sure of himself, however, and how he felt.

“No,” he answered truthfully. “Something else has
been on my mind for some time. You know, I’ve missed you—missed you
a lot!” he made his feelings apparent.

Richard took a deep breath. “There have been times
when I needed to be comforted—needed to be held—and the thought of
you crept into my mind.”

For a moment Richard looked away, but then he looked
back. “What did I do that was so terrible that made you want a
divorce? I never struck you, never cursed you, and I never cheated
on you. I just loved you—and wanted us to be together, forever!”
his voice wavered in emotion.

“You heard my reasons,” Rhianna toned slightly
annoyed.

But Wakinyan’s eyes flashed with some intolerance.
“What I heard was excuses, not reasons!”

“Then why go along with it?”

“Because I promised you when we were first married
that I would give you whatever you wanted. If that meant the end of
our marriage, so be it. Besides, there is no such thing as a love
affair of one.”

Rhianna smirked as she
threw down her fork on the tray. It bounced with a resonant bang,
and heads of crewmen and marines turned to the sudden
noise.

“Do you really want to
know why I wanted out?” she said in a loud angry pitch so that all
could hear. “I just couldn’t stand being around such an incredibly
boring guy—and such a loser! I felt totally smothered—by your
love!”