Universe of the Soul (16 page)

“Then do it!” Heedman ordered.

Silence fell over the bridge.

“But sir, Lieutenant Commander Rael and five others are trapped in the wreckage as we speak,” sputtered Operations Officer Janag, “we have to rescue them.”

Heedman's face began to turn red. “We have to do what I say we do! I AM the captain! Lowell, command the port batteries to fire on the wreckage immediately! Quoditum,” he ordered the helmsman, “As soon as that's done, take us out as fast as you can. DO IT!”

“Sir, please reconsider,” Lowell gasped. “Rael is - ”

“Replaceable,” Heedman snapped. “As are you.”

His face turning a sickly white, Vice Captain Lowell brushed his earpiece. [Bridge to port batteries. Charge main weapons. Target, the wreckage of the portside warehouses.]

Gray's head whipped up as the command came over his communicator. “What the -?” he whispered softly. He brushed his earpiece. [Grayson to bridge, rescind that last order! We still have survivors to retrieve from the debris!]

[Negative, Grayson,] came Lowell's voice. [Captain's orders are as swift a retreat as possible.]

[But we still have five people to recover! My team is in the final stages of prep now. Give us twenty minutes,]

[Negative, Grayson.] A pause [I'm sorry.]

[Gray? What's going on, my communicator isn't picking up the bridge's command,] Adri had secured herself to one of the walls as she waited for the rescue team to arrive.

There was a short pause. [Oh Danwe, Adri,]

[What?] There was something terrifying in Gray's voice.

[Heedman isn't going to wait for rescue.]

[What?] she repeated. [I can't very well save myself here,]

[Adri,] Gray said slowly, so slowly that Adri's adrenaline began to rush again, [Kobane's ship is coming. They're within sensor range.]

Sometimes God is merciful and doesn't let you see death coming. And sometimes, he gives you way too much time to think about it. Adri realized in that moment that she hadn't been lucky enough to be the former. [He's going to let us die to save himself,]

It felt as though someone had reached through his skin, grabbed his heart and was now trying to pull it out, wrenching as it went. [You can't die,] he murmured, [Not now when I just found you. I love you,]

[Gray,] Adri felt something break inside, and feared it was her heart. [About those words you wanted me to say…]

There was a sound like roaring that burst through the nothingness of the space surrounding her. The searing white of the blaster cannon fire only feet from her body blinded her eyes, and she felt the horrible tug as everything around her flew away into that nothingness. The nothingness that was space. [Gray!]

There was an eternal second in which her body felt intense pain. Then the world faded to white, then gray, and she felt herself falling away into cool mist accompanied only by her fighting elegy. Her last thought was a fanciful one.
Why, I have wings. How strange.

Then there was nothing at all.

Enemy Sabotage Damages Ship

5 Killed

The G.C.N. Oreallus was attacked on 02-24-1119 by the Belligerent Coalition en route to an undisclosed location. Bombs were discovered in the ship after the skirmish. While all but one was disarmed in time, the explosion killed 5 crew members; Ensign Kaitlin Mannerly, Ensign Undani Umbara, Ensign Sahar Tuian, Chief Petty Officer of Warehousing Meredith Hayden-Lloyd, and Second Officer Lieutenant Commander Adrienne Rael.

M
ankind has fixed itself with technology to be bold, healthy, cunning and occasionally happy. It has cures for nearly every disease, solutions for nearly all inconveniences, and a way out of nearly every plight. It still has no cure for grief.

Thaddeus Grayson, a field lieutenant of the Galactic Commonwealth Navy's Advance Force division, was no stranger to grief. From a young age, he had learned that death walked hand in hand with daily life, and that the best way to avoid grief's clinging cousin misery was to look at the bright side. There was always a purpose; every breath of life held meaning. That's what his grandmother had taught, and that's what he'd always believed. All life was important, because all life had a purpose, a point or reason to exist. Gray had found that to be a comforting idea, and had spent most of his life looking for his purpose. No matter what the pain – the death of his grandmother, the sorrows of a career soldier – he'd moved forward. Gray had always managed to see some spot of light. Then there'd been that short space of time where he'd thought he'd found his point in Adri.

Which somehow made his current hell twice as dark.

Adri was dead. The
Oreallus'
s analysis officer had morbidly documented the debris impact on the surface of Junus. Pushed by the explosive force of the ship's batteries straight into the gravitational sphere of the planet, it had taken mere hours for the jetsam to burn through the atmosphere and disintegrate on the surface like shards of a glass.

Adri was dead.

It had taken a squad of his own security team to pry him away from the dangerously thin walls that separated the service hall and what used to be the portside warehouse. His mind had gone numb and he'd fought wildly, until one of his team took matters into her own hands and stunned him. He'd woken hours later in the infirmary, feeling hollow on the inside and groggy on the outside, with Duane sitting in the visitor's chair next to his bed, head in his hands.

Duane wascrying. Gray closed his eyes and pretended to still be sleeping to allow his companion some privacy to grieve. Strangely, he didn't feel the need to weep, although he was sure the need would come at some point. Instead, he simply felt…empty.

And well he should, since the love of his life had just died, before he'd even had the chance to show her just how much she
was
the love of his life.

He'd never even had the chance to dance with her.

About those words you wanted me to say…
Had she understood what he'd wanted to hear? He'd never know.

From words of love to words of condolence in a matter of hours, Gray thought bleakly the next day. He'd been released from the infirmary without the usual harassment Doctor Geiger usually enforced the evening before. “I've informed the captain that you require a day of personal leave before returning to work,” the doctor had told him when handing him his communicator and ATF. “I suggest you try to sleep, but barring that, I recommend you steer clear of the bridge. The last thing Lieutenant Commander Rael would want is a massacre of bridge command which would end with a good officer being court martialed.”

Was the doctor a psychic?
Gray had thought. But he'd avoided the bridge, and had ended up getting drunk on bootlegged Tuor rum with Duane in a forgotten corner of the weaponry and tactical analysis complex. While the humacoms continued their work, oblivious to the goings on of the day before, Gray had shared silence and rum with the paranthian. When the rum ran out and Duane fell asleep, Gray continued to stare into nothingness until the bell chimes warned of the change in shift. He then hefted his companion to his dormitory before staggering back to his own. Alone.

A few short hours later, and here he stood with most of the available crew on the
Oreallus
, listening to the vice captain recite the funeral text for those killed in defense of the ship. Everyone in Adri's squad showed up, along with a good many others who had liked or admired her. Even Piontek hobbled in, despite his near-mortal injury. During the ceremony, Gray could feel the negative mood of the crowd directed at Captain Heedman. Gray's own feelings were clear-cut, but lacked enthusiasm. Heedman was weak, and not only deserved to be court martialed for cowardice, but also but be flogged. Before Gray killed him. But none of that would bring Adri back. Nothing would.

The ceremony ended with the symbolic jettisoning of a capsule of dust in lieu of bodies. Gray watched it spiral away through the viewscreen out into the far reaches of space. Vice Captain Lowell's approach barely registered until he spoke. “Lieutenant Grayson, I understand you were a close friend of Rael's,”

“Yeah.” What else was there to say?

Lowell made an inarticulate, sympathetic gesture. He stood awkwardly for a moment, tugging on the black armband he'd worn for the service. “She was an excellent officer,” he said by way of condolence.

Gray continued to stare out into space. “Sure was.”

“Listen,” Lowell said quietly, “No one wanted her dead. But if we don't follow orders…you understand.”

Gray did. “I'm sure you had something to say, other than condolences, sir.” Gray said, finally facing his superior officer.

The vice captain nodded. “Rael's personal effects need to be dealt with. Since we've lost our second officer, a replacement has to be found, and is entitled to the officer's quarters it goes with.”

“I really don't think this is the time to discuss this,” Gray replied flatly.

Lowell hissed out a breath. “Listen, I hate it too; I worked with Rael longer than you did. She was the best. She would have made captain at the last candidacy call, but she was overlooked because she had no high rolling sponsorship. Instead she got shunted onto the
Oreallus
with Heedman. Rael deserved to be captain. But she didn't make it and now she's dead. The whole deal is rotten, but there's nothing to be done!” there was a pause as Lowell took a calming breath. “In all the years I've known her, Rael's never been close to anyone. The paranthian from Engineering, perhaps; but she got a look in her eyes since you came on board.”

“What kind of look?”

Lowell shrugged. “Thoughtful. Confused. Danwe, I've never seen her look so perplexed about another being before. Rael never got into relationships.” He paused again. “Listen, Grayson, whatever type of relationship you and the L.C. had, it was different than anything I've noticed before. That's all I'm trying to say here.”

Gray nodded.

“I'm asking you because of that.”

“Pack her stuff up?” Gray asked, glancing back out of the viewscreen.

“Yeah,” more relaxed, the vice captain accepted a cup of simulated coffee from an ensign. “Rael has no family to send her personal effects to, so pack it as you see fit and I'll have it stored in a warehouse until we make Halieth.”

Gray nodded again, and with a last glance at the infinite question of space, he left.

“I saw you leave the funeral.” Duane said as he stepped into Adri's old quarters. The room was a decent size, as befitted a second officer, but there wasn't much in it. A neatly made bed, a travel trunk, a couple of uniforms in the closet. Some dirty dishes were piled on the desk, and the computer viewscreen showed a list of messages. Gray was standing by the bed, carefully folding a pair of faded fatigues. “Humans don't deal with death well. As a culture, I mean.” Duane commented suddenly.

Gray gave him a skeptical look, taking in Duane's blotchy complexion and reddened eyes. He hadn't been on time for the service. Gray had seen him slip in the back of the room halfway through.

Duane flashed him a sheepish smile. “I guess I've been hanging around humans too long. So, you collecting her things?”

“She didn't own much.”

“Nah,” Duane stepped further into the room and glanced bleakly at the pile of articles that Gray had stacked on the bed. “I never saw her with much, ever.”

“I haven't found anything personal,” Gray said, his eyes slightly distant. “No trinkets, no jewelry, no pictures or holo-recordings, not even a chronometer.”

Duane frowned, Gray's comment obviously pulling him out of his memories. “She had a necklace – you know, the tear shaped pendant made out of some purple shell? I think she told me once that it had been her mother's. She wore it all the time, so she was probably wearing it…”

“Yeah, she had it on.”

Duane sat down heavily into the desk chair. “I just can't believe this.”

Gray glanced around at the second officer's quarters. They had held little of Adri to begin with, and now all her things sat in little piles that didn't even cover the surface of the bed. “Why doesn't she have pictures? There isn't even one from her graduation from the Academy.”

Rubbing his face, Duane replied, “She had a holo-album that one of her basic training buddies made for her when she was accepted into the Officers' Academy. It's got to be around her somewhere,”

Glad at the puzzle to divert his attention from what he was doing, Gray scanned the room again. “I've been through the chest of drawers, the desk, the closet, and the bathroom. She didn't rent any warehouse space. There's nothing but what's here on the bed. Where did she put it?”

The paranthian shrugged.

Feeling slightly foolish (which was better than bereaved), Gray checked under the bed. It had always been where he'd stuck his most valued possessions as a child. Perhaps Adri had also used the space as a little girl, and habit had kept her utilizing it. Lifting up the bed sheets, he peered under. Nothing. He even crawled in a little ways to double check, but the space was empty.

“Find anything?” Duane asked from the chair.

“No. It was just a guess. I suppose – wait. What's this?” Gray had turned his head slightly to slide back out, and had noticed a small SecureBox fastened to the underside of the bed. He rolled awkwardly onto his back and studied the box. Unfastening its mounting seal, he slid out from the bed, pulling the box with him.

“What's that?” Duane asked, his attention perked.

Gray sat on the bed and studied the lock on the box. “There's a numerical combination code on this.” He pulled out the master code chip Lowell had given him and inserted it into the lock. The lock
pinged
for a moment before blinking green, allowing the lid to release with a soft snick.

Inside the box Gray found a small collection of old photo images, keepsakes, and a slender holo-album. Duane stepped over to him and peered over his shoulder. “There's the album. Mind if I look through it?”

While Duane studied the images stored in the album, Gray sifted through the other items that Adri had considered valuable enough to store in a SecureBox, about the size of a pistol case, hidden under her bed. There wasn't much; a palm sized doll, which looked like it must have belonged to Adri as a child, an old wedding band registered to an Elizabeth Wraben Rael, and a few miscellaneous trinkets that could only be valued by a child or adolescent. But at the bottom of the box, carefully wrapped in a genuine silk scarf, was a framed photo imager. With a soft breath, Gray activated the outdated screen.

The image displayed a family of three at what appeared to be the child's birthday party. The family was centered in the image, with a heavily sugared pastry on the table in front of them that had a real wax candle in the shape of the numeral seven. The birthday girl – Adri, he realized – was smiling excitedly at the image. She was sitting on her mother's lap, comfortable and unafraid, with an outstretched hand to grasp the arm of the beaming man sitting next to them. Her parents looked young and proud, both with features that Gray recognized from their daughter. The man had the same calm features and hair coloring, while the mother had passed on her deep brown eyes that seemed to reflect back the world around them; a trait that was both mysterious and intriguing. He felt his gut clench with pain, but couldn't force himself to look away.

“I've never seen that image before,” Duane commented from behind him. “The L.C. was pretty closed mouthed about her childhood. I know her parents died when she was young.”

Gray didn't look up. “She looks happy here, doesn't she?”

“Yeah.” The paranthian rose, reluctantly replacing the holo-album. “She never really looked like that, for as long as I knew her. Until you came along,” he placed a comforting hand briefly on Gray's shoulder.

Gray continued to stare down at the image long after Duane had departed. Adri's seven-year-old eyes smiled back at him innocently.

Humankind has an instinctive desire for happiness. In fact, Gray surmised, it could rationally be said that all species possessing more than the necessary survival instincts for existence desire happiness in some form or another. Barring happiness, humans at least tend to avoid situations or objects that will push them further from that goal. If they can't avoid it, humans will either confront the situation in order to change it for a better outcome, or they ignore it and try to pretend that it isn't there, never occurred, or isn't a big deal. Or, in his case, try to objectify it so as to give himself some emotional distance.

Danwe, that was just pitiful.

Gray turned his head and glanced at the framed imager of Adri's seventh birthday. The bedside light illuminated the room softly, showing the image placed carefully amidst the orderly disorder of the quarters he occupied. Stretched out on the bed, he tried to let his senses roam as another form of distraction from his thoughts. The audioproofing in the walls did not allow the noise from the corridor to drift in. It left the room in silence despite the fact that there was a bevy of technicians just down the hall replacing a gravitational and air pressure monitor. The only sound was the gentle humming of the ship's engines, a noise often forgotten after years aboard spacecraft. The bed sheets rustled as he rolled onto his back to stare up at the ceiling.

What had Duane said? Humans don't deal with death well, as a culture? Apparently humans weren't the only ones who tried to rationalize their feelings in order to avoid them. And he really had to stop philosophizing and deal with the matter at hand.