The Epherium Chronicles: Embrace (10 page)

He was dressed in his standard EDF Marine BDUs, carried his combat helmet under his left arm, and on his head was a royal blue beret. As was his normal custom, he rolled his two sleeves up to his elbow to reveal the insignias tattooed into his forearms. On his right arm, the McGregor Clan crest was clearly visible, with the words
S
Rioghal Mo Dhream
emblazoned in green and red, the colors of his family.

On his left, the insignia of the Black Watch Regiment was equally prominent. The Scottish Regiment was his first EDF unit, and his first command as a new lieutenant. Training to command in battle was one thing, but experience was a harsh mistress. His armored infantry unit fought the Cilik’ti for months on the surface of Mars. Once the tide turned, and the Cilik’ti were forced to retreat from their positions, he spearheaded the final assault with his company of Marines that drove their remaining forces from the red planet.

He missed his old unit and still kept the red hackle in his belongings as a constant reminder of his service, loyalty and brotherhood. A member of the Black Watch Regiment was a member for life, and other units in the EDF often acknowledged and took notice of anyone that had served in their ranks.

Whenever he took over a new command, he would take pride in introducing them to the Black Watch motto,
Nemo Me Impune Lacessi.
“No one attacks me with impunity” was a bold motto, and it demanded the greatest of sacrifices in response to aggression. Those words echoed in his mind as he thought about his actions with his previous CO. He still felt what he did was justified for the men that paid the ultimate sacrifice, especially when they didn’t need to. He struck a blow for them and for his own honor, but had violated one of the most important covenants he treasured, the chain of command. He knew he owed a tremendous debt to the one responsible for relieving him of the charred mark on his record and his spirit. He hoped that settling that debt would be an easier road than what he had previously seen.

McGregor arrived at his destination, paused, took a deep breath and exhaled slowly to release the tension and clear his mind. He pushed his shoulders back and stood at a firm attention as he chimed the door. After a few moments, the door opened and McGregor stepped inside.

“Stand easy, Major,” Hood said from behind his desk as he looked up from the data pad he was reading. He watched McGregor put his helmet and hands behind his back. Despite what Hood had requested, the huge Marine assumed only a slightly less relaxed position. Purposefully prolonging the silence between the two men, Hood continued to flip through a few more pages of the open file on his data pad and looked up at the Marine Brigade Commander at least twice more. Finally, he set the data pad down and leaned forward to rest on crossed arms at the edge of his desk. “Please, sit down, Major.”

“Thank you, sir.” McGregor was much more relaxed now, and his natural Highland accent more apparent. He sat down in the left of the two chairs on the this side of Hood’s desk, placed his helmet in his lap, and stared intently at the data pad in front of Hood.

“I understand that Admiral Grant informed you of your assignment,” Hood said calmly.

“Aye, sir, he did, but nay in much detail. He said that you had a special mission and that the Tikis may be involved. He also said he needed someone to light the fires under a young unit. The admiral said he needed a motivator to get ’em ready to fight, and that I was it.”

Hood slid the data pad in front of McGregor. “Explain this to me.”

McGregor took a long hard look at the open page of the file on the data pad and immediately became agitated. He stood from his chair, turned away from Hood, and uttered something Hood didn’t understand.

“That’s Gaelic, isn’t it, Major?” Hood asked, still very calm.

McGregor collected himself and sat back down. “Aye, Captain Hood. I must apologize, I don’t like to curse in front of other officers, especially about a personal matter. But that man, he...” McGregor felt the rage in him begin to grow and stopped.

“It’s alright, Major. I understand what you’re going through.”

“Sir?”

“Believe it or not, Major, all of us in command have lost friends, and many died directly or indirectly due to the choices we’ve made. Most of the time, we struggle to justify it our minds, but we can’t dwell on it. We must honor them by striving to do all we can to honor the living serving under us today.” Hood closed the file and put the data pad in his lower desk drawer. “The mistake in this case was his, and those who placed him in command, not yours. Your tragic flaw in this horrible incident was making this issue one of personal responsibility and not Marine duty.”

“Aye. I should’ve gone to the brass, but just I didn’t trust that they would listen. I let it fester, and when I ran across him in the O’ club, I just reacted. I should’ve known better.”

“I trust that I can rely on you to speak your mind next time, Major.” Hood pulled out a new data storage card and passed it to McGregor. “Here is all the information on our current assignment and potential threat analysis. I need you to be ready, Major. Can you do that?”

McGregor beamed with enthusiasm, stood from his chair and issued a shout that Hood didn’t understand, but he got the intent. “You have no worries, Captain. My men will be ready. I’ll see to that. If we find the Tikis, they won’t know what hit ’em.”

“Major, I am impressed by your enthusiasm, but I hope for all our sakes that we don’t encounter them.” Hood stood and moved to across the room to a cabinet closer to the door. “But, given the chance that we do, I want you to prepare for a few scenarios. The first is that we need to engage the Cilik’ti in an assault to save the colonists. From what we know, the Cilik’ti are not hostage takers, but we may catch them in mid assault.” Hood opened the cabinet and reached inside as he continued. “Based on my assessment of the colonists’ defensive capabilities, any structured defenses won’t hold long at all. They didn’t have access to any of our advanced materials or armor before they left, and I doubt that even the colony ship itself, could survive for very long. Any hope they would have should rest in a rolling defensive action or in some sort of natural structure, like a network of caves.”

Hood pulled a rectangular box and a sealed pouch from the cabinet and walked back over to McGregor. “The highest probability is an encounter after we have made it to the colonists and hopefully had time to prepare defenses. In case of an attack, I want a purely defensive action, where your men must hold them off, while we evacuate the colonists. If the Cilik’ti do come to play, Major, we don’t have the forces for a long drawn out fight, but we can hurt them, and get our people out at the same time.”

“Understood, Captain.” McGregor nodded his approval of Hood’s contingencies.

Hood handed the box he was holding to McGregor. “I hear it is customary in the Black Watch regiments to hand a bottle of scotch to the new commander. I know you aren’t with that unit any longer, but I would like to extend that tradition.”

“Now you’re talking my language, Captain,” McGregor said as he eyed the box. “Whew, Laphroig, twelve year single malt. That’s my father’s brand. Too much of that will remove the hair from your chest. More of a Macallan or Dalmore drinker m’self, but it’ll do, sir. Would you care to share a dram with m’?”

“Not today, Major. Once we complete this mission, and we find the first group of colonists, I’ll take that drink.” Hood tapped McGregor’s shoulder. “In the meantime, I have a job for you.”

Hood handed the pouch to McGregor. “I need you to head back to the station and deliver this communiqué. No one is to open it, and no one is to know why you are headed there.”

McGregor nodded and put the pouch under his arm.

“The address is printed on the label. I need you back by tomorrow afternoon. Commander Sanchez has planned a ship-wide briefing for sixteen hundred. We’re going to ship out shortly after.”

“Not a problem, sir,” McGregor said as he moved to the door. “I better get going, if I want to catch the last shuttle back.” He shook Hood’s hand, placed the scotch and pouch in his helmet and strode out the door and down the hallway.

Mars
Cydonia Labyrinthus
Saturday
,
January 18
Earth Year 2155

A lone figure in an environmental suit ducked under the large rock in a partially collapsed doorway of what remained of the Greywalker laboratory. Maya Greywalker walked slowly away from the entrance as the Martian wind howled.

When she reached nearly two hundred meters from the facility, she turned around, bent down, grabbed a handful of dry red dirt and stood back up. She extended her arm before her and stared at the only true home she had known with her luminous blue eyes. Then she opened her hand, and the Martian soil was slowly taken away by the winds. Inside her helmet, a single tear ran down from her left eye.

Once the dirt was gone, she slowly lowered her head and paused for several minutes. Lifting her head again briskly, she turned on her heel and strode back to the waiting shuttle on the nearby ridge.

Maya hoped that this assignment would lead her to a new home and help her find purpose once again. She boarded the shuttle, and it slowly ascended into the sky. The small ship exited the atmosphere and changed course for the new EDF Dreadnaught.

Chapter Eight

Mars Orbital Station
Sunday
,
January 19
Earth Year 2155
12 Hours to First Jump

Arlen McGregor even as a kid had been an early riser, and today was no different. He arrived to the station late into the evening aboard the previous day’s final shuttle, and since most of the station was buttoned up for the night, he decided to wait until morning to deliver his package. Knowing that Captain Hood had planned for the
Armstrong
to leave the system later that evening, McGregor planned an early start and fast return to the ship. His knew his troops were some of the best in the EDF military, but he demanded operational readiness. Especially if the mission involved the Cilik’ti.

Most of his Marines had never faced the Cilik’ti in battle. Throughout his career after the war ended, he had helped to create some of the simulations that trained new units, but those scenarios paled in comparison to the real thing. Knowing that the simulation wasn’t real takes away a crucial element, McGregor thought. Fear. His troops were in no means cowards, but all men and women experience fear, and it is how they handle it that makes them hardened soldiers. He felt a surge of enthusiasm as he remembered his first CO’s advice. “Courage isn’t the absence of fear, son. Courage is doing your job in the presence of fear. Duty and honor are forged by it.”

As McGregor walked down the hall toward the primary living quarters on the station, he glanced down at the package and checked the address again. He boarded the nearest elevator lift and selected the fourth level, the primary level for station command personnel. It was still early, not even 06:00 on the station, and there was no one in the hall as McGregor exited the elevator.

The address on the package led him to the third door on the left of the hall. He walked quietly to the door, placed the package under his left arm and pressed the chime on the door’s keypad.

“One second!” a muffled voiced came from inside.

McGregor looked briefly down the hall while he waited. He spotted something on the side of the door that made his eyes grow wide. Deep within him, McGregor could sense the peril of the moment to come, but it was too late to change his mind about his assignment. He heard footsteps coming closer to the other side of the door. Gathering his composure, he snapped his head forward and waited.

“Riley, how many times do I have to explain to you that morning status reports can wait until I have arrived at station command,” a female voice blurted out as the door hissed open.

McGregor stared silently in shock at the woman now standing before him.

Colonel Regina Becker, dressed in her EDF uniform pants and an EDF Academy T-shirt, was still holding a foaming tooth brush in her mouth, when she opened the door. She slowly scanned McGregor with her eyes and lowered the toothbrush from her face. “Arlen?” she asked, her voice slightly muffled from the toothpaste.

McGregor collected himself. “Lass,” he said softly.

Becker swallowed the toothpaste still in her mouth, and a frown began to form on her face. “Arlen, what the hell are you doing here?”

McGregor didn’t answer, but slowly held out the package to Becker, who took it from his hand and opened it.

Becker reached into the package and removed its contents, a single card. Puzzled, she looked up at McGregor then back at the card. Neither one spoke, so she opened the card and read it silently.

Rifts in our lives serve as goals for us to overcome and bring closure.
Time and space serve to widen the rifts and prevent us from achieving what we know we must.
When the opportunity presents itself to bridge the gap and close the rift
,
we must seize it.
Failure to take hold of the moment allows the rift to widen
,
and often this can cause even more stress and pain in our lives.
It will fuel anger and despair and worst of all
,
a
sense of hopelessness to ever completing the task.

Take charge of the moment
,
eliminate the barrier and close the rift.
Doing so will bring a sense of joy and completeness to your life and in the end
,
your decision may benefit more than just yourself.

Words to live by.

Your Friend
,

J.
Hood

The muscles in Becker’s face clenched and her face turned a fine shade of red. “Hood, you manipulative son of a...” she muttered under her breath.

She stammered for a few seconds, but quickly calmed herself and looked up at Arlen, who was patiently staring at her, almost waiting for the coming storm that he was so accustomed to see. “I see you’re out of the brig.”

“Aye,” McGregor responded. “Admiral Grant came to spring m’ himself.”

Becker folded her arms in front of her chest. “Went off half-cocked again and took measures into your own hands instead of letting the Corps handle it.”

McGregor’s face turned his own shade of red. “Bloody hell, woman. That blaggard got exactly what he deserved. He caused the death of a lot of good Marines,” McGregor explained as he threw his hands in the air. With a much more relaxed tone he continued, “I made m’ peace with what happened. That young captain put it into a good perspective for m’, and I agreed with him.”

“So, I take it that Hood set your release in motion with the brass. Has he told you about the mission?” Becker asked.

“Aye,” Arlen again responded without taking his eyes off hers. “He told m’ about those colony ships, and that the Marines are needed to help protect ’em if necessary.”

Becker nodded her head slowly and moved her hands to rest on her hips. “I assume that he has also convinced you to go with him?”

“Regina,” McGregor started as he leaned one burly arm on the edge of the doorway. “I reviewed the files and the risks of what would happen if the Tikis find those people. He needs the best to fight ’em, and I’m it, lass. You and I know it.”

“Damn it, Arlen. This is your problem. You run from once crisis to another, and you don’t have any time for yourself. Then when things go bad, you have no outlet and you self-destruct.”

“I’m a Marine, lass. I go to fight when the fight is called. Yes, ’ften I’m first in and last out, but I always came back. ’Course after that dustup on Titan, you weren’t there when I came home.”

“I moved on Arlen. I had my career as well,” she said as she leaned closer and started to glare.

“I can see. Station commander. Impressive. You have done well for yourself, lass. I’m proud to see they recognized your talent.”

Caught slightly off guard, she pulled back and let her hands drop to her side. “What? How did you...?”

“The sign outside your door told m’.”

“Oh... Well, you would have noticed if you had been around. I needed you around. But it was always the next assignment for you. The Corps gave you time off, but you refused it. Why? Was I so horrible to come back to?” Becker asked as the slight hints of tears began to swell in her eyes.

“Nay,” McGregor answered solemnly. He paused for a few moments, still not sure what to say. He felt hollow, and his voice echoed it. “To be honest, I couldn’t let y’ see m’ after some of those missions. Often times, I had close mates die and losing ’em, well, it really started to tear at m’. It got so I...” McGregor paused and lowered his head.

“What Arlen? You have to tell me,” Becker said.

“I just couldn’t have you see m’ like I was, when a mission was over. I felt almost crazed. Early on I would run to the Rec rooms to work out, trying anything to ease the feeling, but after a while it didn’t help. The only thing that did was the next mission.” He lowered his head again and shook it slowly. “After you left, I just stopped. Stopped missions, drills, everything. Hell Regina, I almost quit the Corps.”

“I didn’t know that,” Becker replied softy.

“But then I got help and I got it sorted,” McGregor said with a slight laugh. He looked up at her face and stared into her eyes now full of tears. “The prideful man I was then couldn’t tell you how messed up I had become. I’m sorry for that. I shouldn’t have put you through it.”

Becker wiped the tears from her face and sniffled slightly. “So, Hood asked and you’re still going to go.”

McGregor moved close to Becker and gently took her face in his hands. “Aye. I’ve got a lot of young Marines to look after, lass. Most have never seen combat, let alone the kind of fighting the Tikis can throw at us. If anywhere I’m needed, it’s with him.”

Regina straightened herself, but her lips still quivered with worry. “Do me a favor then, don’t get killed out there.”

McGregor smiled at her. “Take a lot more than what the Tikis have to bring m’ down. We’ll get the job done and be back before you know it. I promise.” He pulled her closer and gently kissed her forehead. “I have to go, lass. Got lots to do before we leave.”

Becker took his hands in hers, squeezed hard and slowly let them go. She watched as he walked out the door. “Give ’em hell, Marine,” she blurted.

“That’s m’ girl,” McGregor said. He smiled at her again and hit the controls to close the door. After the door closed, he lowered his head and sighed. He figured Hood had wanted him to take care of a few of his ship-out details before they left, but he hadn’t expected to see Regina again. If anything, when he noticed that it was her, he expected a quick punch in the face.

McGregor chuckled at the thought and turned to head down the corridor, but the door quickly opened again, and Becker yanked him back inside.

Becker kissed him hard on the lips, but then pulled back and pointed a finger right at his nose. “Not a word to Hood, you understand?” she said flatly, and the door closed behind them.

EDF Armstrong
Sunday
,
January 19
Earth Year 2155
8 Hours to First Jump

Hood moved at a quicker pace to keep up with his companion as they walked down the corridor after leaving the Command Deck. Although Maya Greywalker’s gate was graceful and easy, Hood felt a little pressed to keep up. “All the command quarters are on these two levels, Lieutenant. Yours is down the hall closer to the lift on the left, Commander Sanchez is right across the hall, and mine is right here.”

Maya turned to Hood and extended her hand. “Thank you for the tour, Captain. I look forward to working with you. If you don’t mind, I want to wander on my own for awhile and familiarize myself with the ship.”

Hood shook her hand and looked directly into her eyes. He could feel the weight of her gaze as if they almost looked into his soul. He shook off the feeling and smiled. “It was my pleasure, Lieutenant. If you get a chance, I would like your assessment of the ship’s security team. I know it’s not the same as on a station, but I want to know that we have the right people in place.”

“Certainly, Captain. But I must add that criminals and mischief exist everywhere, not just on a station. Admiral Grant stressed a need for me to take this job. I never asked for his reason why, but I want to make certain that I don’t disappoint.”

“Admiral Grant has great faith in your skills, Lieutenant, but I hope we don’t have to use them. Minor dustups and lapses in disciplined behavior can happen aboard ship from time to time, but I have never encountered a criminal element on board any of my vessels before.”

“I understand, Captain. If you don’t mind me saying, there is a great deal of apprehension on this ship. Most of what I have sensed could be driven by the undisclosed mission, but it is definitely affecting the majority of the crew. Apprehension fuels anxiety.”

“Yes, Lieutenant?”

“Anxiety can often overwhelm rational behavior and degrade even the most disciplined individual. Irrational people make mistakes and often act outside their nature,” Greywalker stated flatly.

“And you have sensed this just in the short time on this ship?”

“Yes, but mostly from body language and demeanor, Captain. To determine how much more the crew is affected will take a deeper investigation, and thus my need to walk alone with no distractions. I will include what I find in my security assessment.”

“Yes, please do, Lieutenant, and thank you for your candor.”

“Thanks again for the tour, and I will see you on the Command Deck for the briefing.” Maya turned and walked down the corridor to the elevator lift.

Hood keyed his door to his quarters, walked inside and immediately paused. He looked around the room and noticed that several items had been moved. His previous day’s jacket was now pressed and hanging with a clean uniform on a hook outside his closet, items were neatly arranged on his desk, and fresh pot of coffee was brewing on the counter to his right.

Hood heard a noise, and a man dressed in an EDF enlisted uniform walked slowly out of his bathroom. Hood cleared his throat.

The man looked immediately at Hood and quickly snapped to attention. “Sorry, sir. I didn’t realize you were back.”

Hood looked at the man. He was slightly shorter than Hood and he could tell by his almost baby face look and short brown hair, that he wasn’t much more than twenty years old. “Who are you and what are you doing in my quarters?”

“Petty Officer Jared Martin, sir. I’m your new aide, sir.”

Hood shook his head and walked over to Martin. “This is all a big mistake, son, I don’t have an aide. Who assigned you this post?”

Martin lifted his chin slightly and answered Hood with a bit stronger sense of resolve. “Admiral Tramp, sir. My orders stated that all flag officers require an aide, and that I was to perform any and all duties to support you in that role.”

“Flag officer?” Hood said skeptically. Normally all EDF Command staff members were given that title, but he had never had held that association. “Stand easy, son,” Hood continued as he sat down on the bed.

Martin spoke up again. “If I may, sir, Admiral Tramp said that you wouldn’t understand, but he prepared a message for you concerning my posting. I have it loaded on your system, if you would like to view it.”

“By all means, let’s hear what he has to say,” Hood said. He stood, moved to his desk and activated his computer system.