Wreck of the Nebula Dream (35 page)

He folded her into his arms. “You’ll be fine, Mara. They’ll take great care of you on the battleship. I’m going to have to report to the admiral, but I’ll get to sick bay as soon as I can, I promise.”

She leaned against him. “Afraid to let you out of my sight,” she murmured somewhat disjointedly.

“Other than briefing the admiral, which I have no choice about, I’m never leaving your side ever again,” Nick said, smoothing her hair away from her face with a tender gesture. He touched the purple bruise on her face and brushed a kiss at the edge.

Misty-eyed, Mara gazed at him, a small smile on her lips. “You mean that, soldier?”

He took her good hand in his. “My prospects aren’t great, they’ll probably cashier me out of the service for that last disaster of a mission –”

“Are you kidding?” said the Marine officer. “Admiral Reston’s already talking about awarding you a field promotion, writing you up for the Medal of Honor, assigning you to his personal staff –”

“Captain.” Nick held up a hand. “I’m trying to propose here.”

“Oh, sorry!” Smothering a laugh, the captain sidled a few inches farther away in the crowded vehicle, tugging the grinning medic with him.
 

“Propose?” Mara asked, her gaze locked onto Nick’s face. “Because if that’s a firm offer, I accept.”

“No negotiation?”
 

For answer she tugged him closer and they kissed for a long time while the Marines cheered, whistled and clapped.

Several eventful weeks later, the five-star restaurant Sommerton’s canceled all reservations, no matter how long standing, closing for the night in honor of special guests. Nick and Mara, Twilka and Khevan, Paolo and Gianna, along with their father (who had been located in the cryo pods, where he’d retreated after the last fight with his wife), were the guests of honor. Admiral Reston and the Marine captain, as well as Rafferty and Casey from the freighter
Space Dragon
joined them around one big table. Sitting together one last time, they dined on the fabulous seafood, cooked by the owner personally. His niece had been traveling on the
Nebula Dream
and had actually been one of the passengers Nick and Khevan had evacuated in the first lifeboat at the beginning of the whole catastrophe. She was at the dinner as well.

“Over the years, I imagine the first lifeboat, the one you two filled, is going to have carried four or five hundred people,” Mara teased. “Instead of the one hundred and twenty-five you actually allowed on board. Everyone is going to want to say they were personally rescued by you two.”
 

“Three days ago, I wouldn’t have believed you, but after the press conference, I can believe anything.” Nick took another long drink of the excellent Taychelle ice wine. At a thousand credits a bottle, he didn’t usually have much chance to drink it, but it was his favorite.
Not getting drunk tonight, no vodka or brandy for me. Kinda lost my taste for it.
Tonight there were five bottles of the special wine on the table, with more chilling in the kitchen.

 
“What a circus that was.” Referring to the press conference, he shook his head. It had been a personal nightmare, although he was assured by the Sectors Public Relations officers he’d come across well. “A quintessential stoic, heroic military man,” the PR officer had said, as if Nick cared.

 
All the top vid reporters in the Quadrant had come, clamoring for entry to the conference, for their chance to ask questions of the survivors. Any survivors were in high demand, depending on how much of the excitement they had endured, but the media hordes were positively salivating to get time with Nick and Mara.
 

Khevan and Twilka had refused to participate, as had many of the other survivors, particularly the ones who were in mourning for loved ones.
 

At the specific request of the Sectors High Command, who wanted the good publicity for the military, Nick had reluctantly agreed to do only one other interview. He and Mara and Admiral Reston had discussed it, one night aboard the
Penelope
, in the admiral’s quarters, over a bottle of thousand-year-old Terran brandy.

“You don’t have to do it,” Reston said. “I’m not going to order it, no matter how much pressure Command tries to apply. This is my quadrant, damn it, and you’re attached to my staff until you decide to retire or take another assignment.”

“Reporters fire their questions at you without even listening to the answers. And they want me to make myself out like some big adventure vid hero. Which I am not,” Nick said firmly. “I did what had to be done, took the action that needed taking. Hell, I think Rafferty and Casey are more heroes than I am. They had to consciously choose to come over into Sector Seventeen to try to rescue us. Or the Marines, boarding the
Dream
in the teeth of the Mawreg, on a chance of finding Mara and me.”

“This whole story is the absolute fascination of the Sectors right now,” the admiral said. “And it will be, for a while. Something else will replace it eventually, but for now, you and the
Nebula Dream
are literally the talk of the galaxy. Probably even of the Mawreg held territories, although with a different view on the affair!”

Nick laughed politely at the admiral’s joke.

“Loxton wants me to agree to be interviewed, too.” Mara sipped delicately at some real coffee, lightly laced with the rare brandy. “Good publicity for the firm. I can’t say I care at this point.”

“Well, I had an idea,” the admiral said innocently. “I happen to have an old friend in the media business who does those big special interviews all the time. She doesn’t pull her punches and she doesn’t slant the news – much – but she’s fair.”

“What did you have in mind, sir?” Nick asked, resigned. He wasn’t going to be able to say no to Admiral Reston – who could?

“The pair of you do one long interview with her, an exclusive, and then she can syndicate it to the rest of the media jackals. Get you off the hook. Of course, the media will also get the transcript from the Senate Board of Inquiry, once that’s been held, but you won’t have to talk to them directly again, except for the one press conference on Sector Hub when we arrive.”

Nick and Mara exchanged glances, asking each other’s opinion without speaking.

“I have no intention of becoming someone famous just for being famous, who can’t go anywhere and do anything without being recognized,” Nick said, somewhat despairingly. “I want my life back. I’m not endorsing toothpaste, cereal, political candidates –”

“Absolutely,” Mara agreed. “We aren’t writing a book, not making an adventure vid –”

“Once my friend announces that she’s got you booked exclusively, the others will stand down. That’s how it works,” the admiral assured them. “Oh, probably once a year on the anniversary of the wreck, they’ll try to find you, for a quote or two, but even that’ll trail off eventually.”

So it was agreed. They sat for an interview with the admiral’s reporter friend for three hours, aboard the
Penelope
, which was about the only place they could be assured of privacy at the moment, and answered most of her questions. Nick and Mara sat together, holding hands, and walked through their ordeal, refusing to get into too much graphic detail, and staying out of the areas that might compromise the legal case against SMT and its agents. The resulting program garnered the highest ratings ever experienced for any broadcast in the Sectors.

Nick was glad when it was over. He shook his head, returning to the present, at the restaurant, realizing dinner was winding down and several people were ready to leave, including the Nadenoft family.

The children came up to Nick and Mara one last time. Their father waited a few paces away, nervously, engaging in desultory conversation with Admiral Reston but keeping a watchful eye on his offspring. Nick picked Gianna up, holding her close and giving her a hug. She hugged him enthusiastically, giving him a big sloppy kiss on the cheek before he set her down.
 

Nick turned to Paolo while Mara and the girl were saying their farewells. “You did a terrific job during our whole time together, trooper. I’ll miss you, but I’m sure glad we found your dad for you.”

Paolo looked at his father, who waved. “Yeah, me too,” the boy answered, bringing his gaze back to Nick. “I’ll miss you, too, sir. I’m going to join the service as soon as I’m old enough, be a trooper for real, like you.”

“I’m honored. When the time comes, if you want to do that, let me know, and I’ll see what I can do about getting you into the Academy, okay? Of course, you may decide to do something else when you’re grown up – be a D’nvannae Brother like Khevan, perhaps? Or a freighter pilot, like Captain Rafferty,” Nick teased.

Paolo shook his head. “No, I’m going to be like you.”
 

“Hey, trooper, I have something for you,” Nick remembered. He fished in his pocket and came out with his set of gleaming captain’s bars and the Special Forces insignia pin.

Paolo’s eyes widened as he reached to take the items. “Really, for me?”

“You earned them. You were as much a part of the team as any of us. And I’m a major now, see?” Nick pointed to his new rank insignia. “I can’t think of anyone I’d rather give my old bars to, for luck. It’s a tradition, passing on the rank.”

“We have something for you, too,” Paolo said. “Gianna, give the captain our going-away present now.”

Gianna plunked herself on the floor of the restaurant, heedless of her elegant burgundy dress, and fumbled with Huntington the Bear’s secret compartment. The bear had been cleaned and restored to its original furry splendor at the hotel where the family was staying, Nick was glad to see, for Gianna’s sake. Someone had even sewn on a new ear, to replace the one torn off by the Shemdylann pirate, although the new appendage was a bright fuzzy purple.

Gianna worked whatever the item was free and, as was her usual ritual, handed it to Paolo, who then extended his hand to Nick.

It was a
Nebula Dream
coffee mug, the emblem plain to see on the side. It had a small chip in the gold-plated rim and was stained.

“We know how much you like coffee, sir,” Paolo said anxiously. “When we were up on the bridge, Gianna took the mug after she drank her coffee – she liked the pretty picture on the side. But now she wants you to have it. Do you like it?”

“I love it. Nothing could have pleased me more, truly.” Nick stammered out. He took the mug and examined it. “Every time I drink my coffee, I’ll be thinking of you.”

“Come on, children, we have to go now,” their father called. “Say goodbye.”

There was a mass hug, Nick and Mara and the two children all tangled up together – with the bear – and then the Nadenoft family was leaving the restaurant, the door sliding shut behind them with finality.

“We’re going, too,” Khevan said, coming forward, hand-in-hand, with Twilka. “Now that it has been decided that we don’t have to stay for the Senate Board of Inquiry, we must make our way to Temple home world and learn of our destiny. The Senior Brother of the White Lady here on Hub has arranged for a Temple ship to leave tonight, to take us directly there. The entire Brotherhood is anxious to learn what is meant by the occurrences Twilka and I have endured.”

There was one of those awkward moments of silence, when so much needs to be said and no one knows where or how to begin. Finally, Nick pulled Twilka into a bear hug, while Khevan and Mara shook hands and hugged politely. Then Nick and Khevan shook hands.

“You stay in touch, you hear?” Nick admonished Khevan fiercely, suddenly reluctant to lose the Brother’s reliable presence. “And if you don’t like whatever you hear at your Temple Home, get in touch with me. I’ll come if you need me, my word as an officer.”

Khevan nodded gravely. “I accept your offer, Major. You have been as one of the Brotherhood to me these past days, ever since the night the
Dream
crashed into the asteroid field. I never expected to find this bond with one who was not in the Service of the Lady. It is rare, to be treasured. Call upon me, if ever you or Mara are in need of help. I will come.” The tone of his voice and serious expression on his face left no doubt of the utter seriousness with which Khevan made the offer.

Nick nodded.

Mara strolled with Twilka and Khevan to the door of the restaurant, where an aircar from the D’nvannae House was waiting to convey them to the spaceport. Nick watched them walk away and then glanced at the
Nebula Dream
mug from the children, which he had set on the nearest table, in order to shake hands with Khevan.

Picking up the mug again, Nick moved onto the fabled Sommerton’s balcony, which jutted out over the sea coast cliffs and the ocean. Three of the pale gold moons were in various stages of their nightly path through the heavens of Sector Hub. The scene was full of peaceful beauty. Nick leaned on the railing, holding the mug.

Now, standing alone on the restaurant’s balcony, Nick still wasn’t at peace. Yes, the shuttle carrying Captain Bonlors and his boss Yankuri had been found and the men arrested, probably going to face multiple death sentences. That wouldn’t erase the tragedy, wouldn’t bring back all those who had perished as a result of their greed.

 
He rolled the heavy mug in his hand, the children’s well-meant gift, and felt nauseated, the rich dinner sitting heavily in his gut.
Thing’s probably worth thousands of credits, being a relic of the wreck.
He threw the cup as far out into the air as he could, with his restored shoulder putting full force into the throw. It arced high in the twilight, the gold and silver emblem glinting in the moonglow as it tumbled over and over and then fell into the ocean waves.