"Jim! Can you read me?" Richard activated his communication device.
"Yes, Sir," came the response from his friend.
"Jim, it's a freaking mess down here!" Wakinyan's voice was filled with a condoling emotion. "The wounded are all over the place! Have you seen it?"
"No, Sir. I haven't," Randall truthfully admitted.
"I won't have them lying on the deck like this!” Richard’s voice trembled simultaneously in anger and pity. “Allocate half the living quarters as makeshift infirmaries. My cabin, too. Rotate the rest of the crew in shifts to the other racks, half on half off." Wakinyan commanded. "Also there’s no way the surgeons brought enough blood with them for this. Set up blood donors from the crew—and the marines too. And do it as fast as possible, they’re all going to be needed. As soon as you're ready, give me a yell."
"Aye, Sir," Randall acknowledged.
Wakinyan wandered further through to the shuttle bay. Suddenly, a weak hand gripped his booted ankle. Richard stopped immediately, his head snapping quickly to look downward at a female marine. She was clearly wounded in the stomach, which was covered in bloodstained bandages.
"Help me!" she pleaded.
Richard knelt down beside the young woman, and gently touched her face with his hand. Their eyes lock for a few seconds. He saw pain and fear in hers; she saw compassion and warmth in his.
Spying a medic nearby, Wakinyan yelled to the marine. "CORPSMAN, GET OVER HERE! NOW!" Richard's command tone was imperative and final.
The marine medic quickly made his way through to Wakinyan and the woman. As the medic knelt down, he first stopped and looked at the woman for a moment. Putting his fingers to her throat, he checked her pulse. His hand then moved over to her nose and mouth, there was no sign of breathing.
"I'm sorry, Sir," the medic apologized, "she's gone."
Richard blinked dumbfounded. For a minute he just stared at the young woman. Her lifeless eyes were still open wide and staring directly at him.
With a slow sweep of his hand, the captain of the Crazy Horse gently closed her eyelids. Richard then opened her tunic slightly and found her dog tags. Holding them so he could see the encryption on the metallic identification, he read her name and age to himself: Corporal Emma Groves, age 20, Martian Marine Corps.
Touching and caressing her head, Richard wanted to offer a small prayer in tribute to the young woman, but for a moment he winced in mental pain at the thought at asking for Divine Mercy. His own turmoil with his faith in God stood as a restraint, but there was no way that he would forsake her soul to an everlasting darkness. And so Richard humbly yielded his pride to the Creator, and leaned over and kissed her forehead gently. “May God grant you eternal peace, Emma Groves,” Richard whispered sadly into her ear, “daughter of Mars.”
He then delicately pulled her battle jacket off and placed it over her head. A little teary-eyed and shaky, the Captain of the Crazy Horse then stood up and ambled away into the shuttle bay.
Hanger Bay One was much worse than the scene in the corridor. Not only was it magnified, but also it was compiled with total chaos. Orderlies and medics roamed everywhere, either tending or transporting wounded. The few doctors and nurses that were sent from the hospital ship found themselves glued to the hastily made operating tables, while an assembly line of mangled bodies waited their turn for surgery. Some of the wounds were unbelievable, as though huge claws had ripped them apart.
Wakinyan aimlessly meandered through the bay in search of Major Franks. He finally found the man sitting next to a wounded marine lying on a makeshift stretcher. As Wakinyan drew closer, the captain noticed Major Franks just staring at the young marine next to him.
“Anything I can do to help, Major?” Wakinyan invaded the Franks solitude.
Franks just kept staring at the man next to him. “I don’t know, Captain? How good are you at raising the dead?” the marine somberly stated.
Wakinyan’s eyes shot to the man on the stretcher. Like the young woman the captain had just left, the young marine was gone.
For a moment, Richard dropped his head and his frown tightened. He then took the blanket that partially wrapped the dead man and covered the young marine’s head with it. Wakinyan then stood up silently, not knowing what to say or do next.
“He’d still be alive right now if you macho heroes hadn’t decided to leave Mars and hijack the rest of us with you!” a female voice suddenly taunted Richard from behind.
Both Wakinyan and Franks turned to confront apparently a woman surgeon who had walked up from behind them. Even though a bloodstained gown and surgical cap concealed her figure, Wakinyan, immediately recognized her as Doctor Rhianna Bryan. For a moment, there was a cold silence between the two.
“What are you doing here?” Richard asked somewhat angrily.
“Cleaning up the mess you made!” Rhianna replied defiantly.
Regaining his composure, Wakinyan was quick to fire back. “Doctor, more than two thirds of the people of Mars decided to do this. They were sick and tired of Earth’s abuse and tyranny. They wanted something better for themselves—and their families. Time also was running out, and there was no other option.”
Rhianna, however, continued her verbal assault. “I don’t buy your line, Boy Scout. You probably didn’t even try to work things out with the Earthers. All this was really for the sake of blood and glory!”
Wakinyan’s temper then began to flare. “Doctor, may I remind you that I am the captain of this vessel—and you will have respect for me! Unless you want to do your operating—in my brig—I suggest you curve that sharp tongue of yours!”
Rhianna knew that Wakinyan meant every word that he said, and bit her lip in acquiescence.
Richard carefully studied Rhianna as his anger began to subside. Even though much pain had passed between them over the years, Wakinyan still carried tender feelings for her. There was still a special affection for the woman in his heart, knowing that he could never hate her.
“Doctor, I’ve ordered half the ship’s bunks be made available for the wounded,” the captain of the Crazy Horse informed. “I also thought you might be running out of blood. I’m having my second in command set up donors as quickly as possible. He’ll get with you to work out the details. Is there anything else that you require?”
Rhianna just stood silently while her gaze dropped to the deck in front of her. Wakinyan frowned in return, feeling remorse for his harsh words. She made him feel guilty so easily.
Suddenly, Wakinyan’s transceiver beeped.
Richard quickly touched the device to confirm reception the transmission. “Go ahead, Mr. Randall.”
“Captain, there is a very large altercation on deck three! Security is en-route, but I think its going to require both you and Major Franks presence!” Randall’s voice urged.
Wakinyan glanced at the marine officer with a look that bore his displeasure, adding to the awkwardness of the moment.
“They’re just blowing off steam,” the major defended.
Wakinyan just let out a sigh. “We’re on our way, Mr. Randall.”
The captain of the Crazy Horse then turned to Doctor Rhianna Bryan. “If you’ll excuse us, Doctor, we have other matters to attend to.”
The two military men then left the surgeon and the hanger bay. But as they journeyed to deck three, Franks’ curiosity got the better of him.
“I take it you know her?” the major pried.
Wakinyan hesitated, but could see no harm in answering the marine’s question. “Know her? I was once married to her!”
* * * * *
Chapter 11: Apoapsis Three
Somewhere in the depths of space, a forlorn solar system consisting of six planets rotated slowly around a giant red sun. The solar system’s location was so remote that it was abandoned for many, many years. This was the fate of Apoapsis Three.
A discarded waypoint for other stellar colonies, the system once
flourished to a brisk trade of travelers and immigrants from Earth. However, the development of stable hyper-drives doomed its usefulness and it was eventually forsaken. Only an inactive jump-gate, some orbiting man-made space harbors, and deserted transit and ship tender facilities on a small nameless rocky planet some 86,000,000 miles from the star stood as unremembered monuments to human visitation as they slowly decayed. Yet, although the Earth forgot about the system—someone else had not.
Over the last two years, Apoapsis Three hummed with new, but clandestine activity. The spaceport and harbor were rebuilt and expanded, while the jump-gate was repaired. Stockpiles of supplies and material were gathered in secret and in great measure. The system was to serve one final purpose. And this was the day it came to pass, when a fleet of shipsMartian shipsstopped here on their way to their new home world.
From the bridge of the Mariner, Commander Paladin surveyed his fleet as they took on supplies, repaired themselves, and reorganized their formations. He was, however, more concerned about the jump-gate and the timing of its next event. As he looked at his chronometer, he hoped that an inter-dimensional collision wasn’t about to occur. It didn’t as the jump-gate suddenly came to life in a swirl of energy, ejecting several transport ships.
“Free Ride to Angel Fire. Free Ride to Angel Fire. Do you copy? Over,” the voice of Captain Vanessa Parks challenged the Mariner.
“Commander, Captain Parks has arrived,” Winslow called to Paladin.
“I know,” Paladin confirmed, “and it’s about time. Put her on audio.”
“Aye, Sir,” Winslow obeyed.
“Free Ride to Angel Fire. Free Ride to Angel Fire. Do you copy? Over,” the voice of Captain Parks repeated.
“Angel Fire to Free Ride, we read you loud and clear. Good to see you Vanessa. Did you have much trouble stealing the ships?” Paladin quizzed his subordinate.
“Not too much, Commander. We were gone before they knew what happened,” Vanessa was quick to answer. “Where are the sub-hyper transports?”
“They’re in anchor near the Galileo. I’ll have some tugboats guide you in. As soon as you drop anchor, begin the transfer,” Paladin directed.
“Aye, Sir,” Vanessa acknowledged.
Suddenly, the jump-gate came alive again, spitting out the last of the Martian fleet: the destroyer Crazy Horse.
“That was mighty close,” Vanessa observed the destroyer’s unexpected arrival. “It’s a good thing he didn’t jump out a minute earlier.”
Paladin smiled tiredly. “Yes, a very good thing.”
The Crazy Horse quickly moved next to the hospital ship with careful haste. The wounded were still apparently very much on Wakinyan’s mind as his voice beamed over the same military frequency, arranging for the casualties’ immediate transfer. Paladin listened and viewed the ship’s movements, but made no attempt to interfere.
“Mister Winslow,” Paladin spoke as he began to walk to the hatchway, “take the command. Have a few space tugs guide Captain Parks’ ships in, and begin the transfer of civilians from the sub-hyper transports over to hers. Also have Captain Wakinyan report to my cabin immediately.”
“Aye, Sir,” Winslow replied. “Anything else, Commander?”
Paladin stopped for a moment and turned to his junior officer. “Yes. Tell Wakinyan that means at my convenience, not his,” the man stated almost with a laugh.
Winslow slightly scowled as Paladin disappeared through the hatch. Once the older man was gone, Winslow’s face contorted from displeasure to one of controlled anger. He then dawdled for a minute before following his orders.
* * * * *
It was sometime later that a shuttle from the Crazy Horse was guided onto a landing pad in one of the Mariner’s massive bays. Once the craft was down and powered off, Wakinyan departed the shuttle, attired in a clean and proper combat uniform.
As Wakinyan began walking through the bay, he beheld the ship’s crew hustling about. They were busily performing maintenance and repairs on the ship as well as the fighters, which each cruiser held. This reminded him of his own lateness as he continued onward.
Richard guessed that this was one of the reasons why the fleet commander had summoned him. Due to a power fluctuation occurring during flight, the Crazy Horse was forced to drop out of hyperspace for safety. Although the problem was not critical, it took over two hours to find and fix, putting him behind schedule. However, the Martian captain knew that Paladin was not one to suffer excuses.
As Wakinyan made his way through the maze of crewmen and crafts, the sharp eyes of a fighter pilot spotted him. Lieutenant William Collings smirked good-naturedly as he squatted on the ship’s deck beneath the wing of his fighter. As Captain Wakinyan approached, Collings turned to his wingman and called out, “Hey Boosy!”
Squadron Leader Colette Boussard looked up from her maintenance chores to her wingman who simply nodded to the advancing figure. Colette smiled broadly and stood up, wiping her hands on a greasy cloth. “Be back in a few minutes,” she excused herself.
As Wakinyan maintained a steady pace towards an elevator, he was unaware that Colette had fallen-in directly behind him. Suddenly, he felt a sharp, hard slap on his rump. His body jerked around to the invasion of his privacy, only to come face-to-face with the grinning female assailant. Colette’s auburn hair danced in a ponytail, as she stood there and laughed at him. Wakinyan, however, was flustered by the antics of the beautiful woman with grease smudges on her face.
“Boosy, don’t do that,” he reprimanded with a subdued smile.
“That’s Squadron Leader Colette Boussard, Captain. And fighter pilots never pass up targets of opportunity,” the impish woman chuckled.
Richard’s face broke down into a broad grin and the two lightly kissed.
“You know, one of these days, I’m going to put you up on charges for insubordination and harassment,” Richard joked.
“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 plea
sing 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.