Beyond Mars Crimson Fleet (26 page)

Wakinyan was taken back by
her sudden fury.

“You have no desire other
than raising a family and being happy on your ship. But what about
me? Do you really think I wanted to stay home and play mommy?
Excuse me, but I have a little more ambition than that!” the
vengeful woman raged, while not understanding her own
anger.

“And you
are so predictable! You call yourself a warrior, but do you know
what you really are? You are nothing more than an over-grown
Boy Scout
just waiting to
do your next good deed! Well, I don’t want a Boy Scout! I want a
bad boy and all the excitement that goes with him!” she vocalized
defiantly.

However, Richard’s eyes narrowed in response. “Like
your last ex-boy friend. You know who I mean, the successful VP of
Bathgar Corporation; the one who beat the hell out of you on a
weekly basis.”

Rhianna’s jaw dropped in shock. “How did you find
out about that?”

“I been
keeping tabs,” Richard became as steel once more. “And between you
and me, he didn’t spend those weeks in the hospital as the victim
of a botched robbery attempt either! He’s very lucky I didn’t kill
him! But I guess that’s just the
Boy
Scout
in me.”

An uneasy silence settled over the couple from the
verbal exchange. Wakinyan’s heart, however, grew softer again. He
knew he still loved her.

“Rhianna,” Richard called
her name in a gentle tone once more. “We’re headed to a brand new
world, and a brand new life. The past is behind us now, and our
futures are being re-written. Maybe if we both tried a little
harder and get to understand each other better—maybe we could still
have something good together,” he offered. “Rhianna, I still love
you!” Richard’s voice trembled to almost a whisper. “I still love
you!”

Rhianna closed her eyes and retreated into herself,
as a welling of past emotions flooded back in. Her face seemed to
soften as a single tear rolled down her cheek. For a brief moment,
the wall separating them crumbled away and two lovers again gently
touched. Wakinyan sensed this and that she still held a special
place within her heart for him. Then suddenly her face winced
momentarily in extreme pain, and her expression stiffened and
twisted.

Rhianna’s eyes open in a hardened stare. She
rose slowly from the table, picking up her tray as she did. Richard
watched not knowing what to expect as she stood, his heart began to
pound within his chest.

Rhianna looked at him with
a chilling coldness. “What makes you think that I really want to
live on Valamars, or for that matter—ever be with you again?” she
meant her words to offend and hurt.

The woman then turned and leisurely strolled away,
leaving Wakinyan dumbfounded. He sat for several minutes, quiescent
and fixed. Suddenly, he jumped up holding his food tray, and
slammed it into a wall in an outburst of temper. Wakinyan then
stormed out of the mess hall.

He marched quickstep down a corridor towards his
cabin. Wakinyan reached it in record time, but he slowed to enter.
As the hatch locked behind him, his steps became shorter as his
legs grew suddenly heavier. He finally reached his bunk and plopped
down on the edge. His chin then dropped to his chest, while disgust
and loneliness filled him once more with their ache.

Wakinyan spied a bloody bandage
that lay between his feet. No doubt a
souvenir
left by a wounded marine or
crewman that had previously occupied his rack. Richard reached down
and picked it up.

For a moment, he gazed hypnotically at it. Finally,
Richard let out a rush of breath and placed it on a nightstand next
to his bed. He pondered who was more luckless, himself or the owner
of the bandage.

“Lights out,” he ordered
out as he lowered himself all the way down on the firm
mattress.

Richard closed his eyes and took a deep breath and
let it out slowly. He did this several times and gradually he began
to relax. He lay on the bunk for several minutes in the darkness as
the calm of drowsiness began to take hold. His mind then began to
wander the many paths he had walked in his life, becoming a theater
play of tragedy and struggle. From one battle to next, there was no
end to the conflict—no rest to be had.

However, sleep slowly took Wakinyan, and in the
twilight that fills the void between reality and dreams, his mind
slipped back into the realm of the past. Back it slid as far as he
could remember, back to a nameless orphanage in Mars City so many
years ago.

* * * * *

At age seven, there was no
one who could explain to Wakinyan why his parents had tragically
died in a shootout between Earth security forces and Martian
rebels. To him it didn’t matter. Regardless of who was right or who
was wrong, his parents were still dead and his life—shattered. Each
passing day was now filled with the hurtful mourning of loss. But
even more so, a particular dread settled into his new realm of
loneliness: the forced ordeal of daily survival.

Competition at the
orphanage in all things was fierce between the bigger boys and
Wakinyan. Confrontation was a daily ritual of torment and abuse. As
always, it ended in either Richard’s humiliation—or a physical
beating. It was the price Richard paid for being smaller,
different, innocent—and alone.

Eventually, Richard spoke
up about the injustices and injuries he suffered, but no one
listened. Even the geek of a headmaster turned a blind eye to
Richard’s suffering.

“They’re all really good
boys. It’s just youthful display and antics,” he excused the
bullies’ bad behavior and ill-discipline with his
noninterventionist ethics and attitude. “Perhaps you’re provoking
them,” was his only offering to a solution.

But Richard knew there was
no truth to that. His bruises and black eyes were the confirmation
of their brutality. And as the months passed, Richard drifted
further into despair and depression, as his life formed a mere
existence around the self-indulging cruelty and twisted pleasure of
others.

However, things were about
to change, for two mortal guardian angels had newly arrived on
Mars. From a distant, they watched and recorded the boy’s endured
persecutions while they tried to legally petition a court for his
adoption. As the government dragged its feet, however, the
bureaucratic quagmire drew the ire of both of them, but especially
the man who held a starfarer’s master certificate. They then
planned a little miracle to be performed, one that bypassed the
stupidity, failings, and dawdling of an unconcerned state
administration.

This miracle came shortly
in the middle of one extraordinary night. Aroused from sleep, three
men stood at Richard’s bedside one evening, which at first scared
the boy.

The first man’s arm was
twisted painfully behind his back while his head was pushed solidly
against a wall. His face was also bruised and cut as well, with
some blood trickling from his lips. Also, two pronounced swollen
black eyes added to his disheveled appearance. All of these
injuries were given in retribution of Richard’s observed
mistreatment and lack of care. Richard recognized the subdued man
as the geek headmaster. However, the shorter, muscular man who held
him was completely unknown.

The third man stood well
hidden within the shadows, but there was something familiar about
him, something that was comforting. As this man slowly stepped into
the vague light to reveal himself, his face held a striking
resemblance to Richard’s dead father.

“Richard,” the man called in a loving tone. “I’m your Uncle
Nathan—and today will be a good day!” Nathan’s voice was filled
with a tranquil happiness and the promise of a better tomorrow.
“It’s time for you to come home,
Little
Wolf
!” he declared with a
smile.

Nathan then gently scooped Richard up in his arms
and carried him out of the room. The two of them accompanied by the
short muscular man hurriedly left the building and journeyed to a
spaceport. They traveled stealthily through darkened streets, dim
corridors, and places where great trailers of cargo were stacked or
being loaded onto spaceships.

Among one pile of containers, however, a hidden
space shuttle awaited. An alien female stood at its entry hatch and
waved for then to hasten. As they boarded, the shuttle’s engines
throttled up, blowing dust and debris about in the spent exhaust
fumes of ignited rocket fuel.

Within a minute, the
hatches were sealed and they were strapped into their seats. Then
with a sudden mighty roar, the vehicle lifted off and headed
skywards.

The shuttle was maneuvered
expertly next to a departing ship, just under its enormous
wing-like structure. Keeping pace with the vessel only a few yards
away, the shuttle was effectively hidden from scanners. The two
crafts then departed Mars through a series of massive air locks
that eventually led to them leaving the planet.

Richard marveled at the
view, as Mars grew smaller and the stars grew bigger. Finally, they
veered away from the ship and towards another. The new ship was a
huge orbiting freighter, painted with the image of a flying bird—a
great white eagle with its wings outstretched. The hatch to its
shuttle bay was open wide, while blinking interior lights beckoned
the smaller vehicle in.

With a
quick burst of speed, the shuttle entered the freighter and landed.
The hatch to the bay was then closed, encasing all within the
darkened chamber. The freighter christened
Soaring Eagle
then quickly turned and
headed to the jump-gate, finally to vanish into the swirling fields
of hyperspace, heralding a new chapter in Richard’s
life.

At first,
Richard was astounded at how fast things had changed for the
better. Yet, he was quite willing to accept it. Life aboard
the
Soaring Eagle
was filled with hard work, the challenges of learning as well
as fun. Richard wholly embraced his new surroundings with the
utmost joy, along with the discipline and training required of all
starfarers. He found a new worth and satisfaction within himself
through the camaraderie of his new shipmates and the love of his
uncle.

There was O’lan-te-ahh, the
alien female with the large cat’s eyes, finely scaled green skin,
and large hairless head. She was the ship’s chief navigator and
pilot. She was also one of the last members of the dying Mag-guinin
Race, whose skills in star navigation and advance mathematics were
unmatched.

Then there was Julius Bard,
the chief engineer. Nicknamed “Old Bard” by the crew because of his
balding white hair, his reputation and thirst for rum and wild
women preceded him. Yet, given a few tools and a small amount of
time, his imagination and improvisation remedied or repaired every
problem the ship sustained.

Jonathan Plumose was the
man Wakinyan first saw holding the headmaster against the wall. He
was the ship’s first mate, gunner, and a former member of the elite
Terran Two Scouts. He became Richard’s instructor in weapons,
fighting tactics, and martial arts as well as one of Richard’s
closest friends.

Finally, there was his
uncle, Nathan Wakinyan. He was an ageless man who valued his honor,
his starfaring, and his freedom more than anything else. He rarely
earned more than a small profit in operating his ship, but he was
the master of his own life, and proud of that. Richard smiled as he
thought back on the memory of his beloved uncle.

It was Nathan that Richard
took the majority of his philosophy of life from, as well as a love
of American Indian legends and lore. From ancient language to
tribal customs, Nathan became Richard’s teacher. However, Nathan
truly enjoyed reminiscing about the tales of old and past heroes
most of all. Nathan favored one above the rest—the bravest Lakota
warrior ever known and who had fought at the Battle of the Little
Bighorn. It was this Sioux war chief that both Nathan and Richard
were directly descended from.

But Nathan possessed a
physical link to this renowned warrior. In his cabin, something
resided that was passed down through the many generations: the
knife that the ancient Sioux chief once carried into every battle.
And this knife was a part of a legend that spoke of the Sioux chief
rising from the grave and grasping it once more to rid the lands of
all evil. And forever, his deeds were to be told around campfires
and his name always spoken with reverence and pride. Richard
delighted in the wonderment of such tales.

Over
time, the young boy was transformed into a man. Eventually, Richard
became a modern-day Lakota warrior of the stars, honing his skills
and strength through the challenges of serving aboard the
Soaring Eagle
. He even
took on some of the dress of an ancient warrior, which included
boot moccasins he received on his seventeenth birthday. His uncle
said that they would bring Richard good fortune. At that thought,
Richard became filled with anguish.

Richard only wore those
boots when he felt he needed a little extra luck, but they had
always taken a long time to lace up. Because of this, they had
saved his life. But in that same moment, all his friends and
shipmates had died, and his world again had forever
changed.