Chapter 32
Its blackness was appropriate. The vast, deep, ever stretching ocean of space.
Calvin had stood there, gazing out the window, long before anyone arrived. The tranquil quiet offered a kind of solace he needed.
Silence. Like death. And, not for the first time, Calvin wondered about his own mortality, and of those who'd passed away. Realizing he too would follow that path. Maybe sooner rather than later. Would he ever see them again? Or were they, and all mankind, doomed to be lost forever?
He thought of Monte the most. His old friend. Yesterday a person but today only a memory. What would he do without him? And as the scene of Monte's death replayed in Calvin's mind, over and over, he felt his eyes grow warm. But no tears flowed. He didn’t let them.
He watched the open-nothingness for some time before the others came. Shuffling quietly onto the observation deck—all but a skeleton crew required to operate the ship. He put on an emotional mask and addressed them, the mask of the charismatic captain who could inspire his crew to soldier on. Even though, deep inside, he felt empty.
He went through the motions of a funeral in space, one of the worst duties a captain must fulfill. He’d already done the worst duty, contacting next of kin. He'd spoken to no one, left only messages, but it was still hard telling someone their loved one had died, and knowing it had been, at least partially, a result of decisions he himself had made.
Now here he was.
Speaking words he'd prepared mixed with words that came to him in the moment. "...we remember our dead. Our friends. Our colleagues. Our family. They died bravely. They died nobly. And they died with dignity. Fulfilling their duties to the final degree. Every one of us here owes them something, for it was us they died defending. Let us remember them not just for who they were, but what they were. Heroes…"
He led them in a moment of silence and many bowed their heads. Calvin closed his own eyes. But instead of darkness he saw visions of the exploding ship. And thought of his friends’ souls forever wandering the infinite wilderness of space. Perhaps freer in death than ever in life.
He again addressed his officers and their eyes fell on him. They were in pain, but resilient. And seeing their strength gave him a little more. He found eloquence he never knew he had, and he spoke about each of their dead in turn, as individuals, recalling from his own memory what an honor it had been to serve with them. After each, a shot from the main gun lit up the windows and darkened again, like the sun of that person’s life setting for the final time.
Monte was the most difficult to speak about, because Calvin had been very close to him. And trusted him more than any other person since Christine had died. But he didn't linger there. He gave the doctor his proper honors, and continued down the list. According to order and rank.
The final honor went to the Major, who'd sacrificed himself to save Calvin. And when Calvin spoke, he made an extra effort to find the right words. The faces of Special Forces looked up at him, strong but crestfallen. They had admired their CO. And now he was gone. But seeing them, desegregated from the crew, camouflage peppered through a room of black-and-silver, was heartwarming. Showing a kind of unity Calvin never would’ve thought possible so soon after they’d fought against each other. It helped that, even more recently, they’d fought side by side. And died side by side.
Once he finished honoring the Major, another shot fired from the main gun, followed by four volleys of six from the smaller guns. And Calvin gave them a final thought to ponder.
"I lied to you all earlier."
His words rippled like a shockwave through the crowd; he continued. "Intel Wing did not give me back my command. I seized it, so we could go to Abia. And I dragged you all with me. Which is why I will not compel any of you to stand, or hang, beside me... But, I am going to keep moving forward on this road. And I am going to uncover the truth. All of it. And I invite you all to come with me. But you deserve to know the cost of doing so. No one you love will be safe. And the government will hunt us. They will call us criminals. They may even kill us. But, I believe, history will remember us differently. As those who took a stand when no one else could. Warriors in an invisible war."
He told them how he and Raidan had spoken and how he believed that, together, they could rid the Empire of the threat so deeply inside it. The same one that had stolen away twenty-four of their own.
"But to anyone who chooses not to follow me down that dark road, you can book passage back to your families once we reach Gemini. I promise you. And you can go, shamelessly, with your heads held high. And no one will begrudge you for it."
Then he paused and looked them over one final time. "It'll be another twelve hours before we arrive. You have until then to decide. Dismissed."
Miles and Sarah lagged behind as the others filed out. They said nothing but their eyes were supportive and he was glad to know that, whatever was coming, he wouldn't have to face it alone. Shen would have stood there too, Calvin knew, had he not already been moved to the Harbinger's burn ward.
The last to leave was Summers Presley. She'd been completely silent the whole time and didn’t make eye contact with him or anyone. She just stared out the window for awhile. Calvin wanted to say something to her, but he didn't know what. He decided to just leave her be.
To his surprise, she was the one to break the silence. Barely more than a whisper at first. "I'm sorry," she said, in words so quiet Calvin thought he'd imagined them. He wasn't sure how to reply.
Summers continued, "for what I did to you… here," her eyes searched over the empty observation deck. "I am sorry. And..." she paused, finding a little strength, "you were right. There is something wrong with the Fleet. What happened... I don't know... I don't understand it..." she looked past him and out into space. "But something is wrong. I can accept that now."
Again Calvin was speechless, barely able to believe what he was hearing. And he could tell this was very difficult for her.
"Thank you," he said quietly, not sure what to add. Thinking that, after all that had happened, Summers was as much a victim of circumstances as he was. “You could walk away from this, you know?” he found himself saying. “You weren’t part of this—what I did. The Fleet would take you back. You could walk away from all of this and no one would hold it against you.”
“I would hold it against me,” her words were quiet but forceful. “After what I saw—what we all saw—how could I walk away? How could anyone?” She glanced down at her hands, as if they were stained red. “I’m no one’s tool anymore. Not Raidan’s. Not the Fleet’s. Not yours… no ones.”
There was a fire in her. The fire of someone who’d been betrayed too many times. Someone who didn’t trust anyone or anything anymore.
“So… are you coming with us, then?” asked Calvin. Not sure what to expect.
She nodded once. "I believe in what you’re doing. You are trying to find the answers. Discover what’s wrong with the Fleet, so order can be restored. If I can help with that goal, I want to. If nothing else, I have to try…" she spoke slowly, with some difficulty, "Just... promise me one thing.” Her eyes met his, looking deadly.
“What?” he asked, wondering what one thing was so important to her.
“Be careful trusting Raidan." The strength of her gaze and the steel of her words took him off guard.
"I will," Calvin promised.
Her eyes stayed with his for half a second longer, bright and unreadable, then she turned and swept out of the room without another word.
Leaving him alone again.
The first to come and the last to leave. He turned back to the window and pressed his hand against its cold surface, thinking about what’d just happened. But before long his thoughts twisted back to the violence on the Rotham ship, particularly Monte’s death. And in his mind he offered a silent farewell to his dear friend. He leaned his head against the glass and closed his eyes as several choice memories poured through his mind.
Only then did the tears flow. And he let them, without a sound. His eyes burned and cheeks grew damp, but it gave him peace.