Chapter 11: I see sun, you see rain
We escaped to a system unknown to us, taking a handful of fold vectors that were--once again--not on our charts. We were deep in the bush now, fully committed. Nowhere to run.
The mission had been a great success, though it came with a high cost. My own ship, brutally damaged, probably wouldn't stand up to another attack. Our friends weren't in much better shape. Both of us set about repairs.
An exterior survey reported back on the extent of the damage to the upper part of the Protector. I'll spare you the boring details. Suffice it to say, imagine someone took a submarine sandwich and pounded it with their fist as hard as they could. Yeah, that's basically what happened. The engineers estimated a good three to six months in dock would be required for proper repairs. We all knew that wasn't going to happen.
The rebellious Koraxians tried a smooth move to cheer me up. Totally uenxpected, I might add. They indicated they were shipping a "token of friendship" on a small pod. I went down to the main bay to receive it.
I had no idea what to expect. Maybe some magical technology that would repair all our damage? Free tickets for a lovely vacation on sunny Salmax IV? Never--not in a million years--could I have known what was about to emerge from the slick, silver pod.
It was large-ish, big enough to hold a few people, so I thought it might have been fuel or maybe a bunch of gold or something. Nope. Nothing like that.
Rather, two people stepped out of a hole that appeared suddenly on one side. One man, one woman. Older. Older than me. Some spark of familiarity rattled around the back of my mind but I couldn't quite place it. I couldn't process what the rational parts of my being were dying to tell me.
"Robert?" the woman asked, nervously breaking the silence.
"Do I... know you?" I managed, my brain a jumbled mess of thoughts and emotions I simply didn't want to accept.
"It's us. We came back. God, it's been so long." She seemed to be having just as much trouble with it as I was. "We've missed everything, haven't we?" she asked, a tinge of sadness in her voice.
"Not everything. I'm not dead yet. But that could be in the very near future."
"Don't be so grim. I've told you about that."
My father--my father, I repeated mentally, as if the repetition would make it sink in--he didn't say anything. Never a man for many words, even after thirty years of absence.
So they stood there, my parents, thirty years older, sizing up the boy they'd left behind, whom they barely recognized. I had a lot of questions for them, and I figured they had just as many for me.
Eventually, I remembered my manners and asked them to accompany me to my quarters. I assigned Ramsey to work with the Koraxians on coordinating repairs, set up our next objective, and not to, under any fucking circumstances, bother me.
We came to my quarters and they sat down, scoping out the room, taking in my plaques, medals, the chronicle of my career that adorned the walls.
"You've made quite a life for yourself," my mother commented.
"Yeah, it's not bad."
"Why the military?" my father asked, finally opening his mouth.
"Well, I didn't have a lot of choice in the matter, since the two of you left me to get half blown-up by the Easters." Honestly, I hadn't meant to snap at him, but it was just his tone--I never forgot the way it always provoked me.
"That's enough," she said, eyes darting between the two of us.
I sighed. "You're right, let's just talk. What happened? Where have you been for the last thirty years?"
My mother gave a wrinkled smile and began her story. "You remember the last time we left, we were headed past Procyon. We'd heard about some primitives on a nearby planet who'd not yet heard the Word. The Koraxians beat us there, and took us prisoner."
"You don't seem like prisoners," I noted. "They just let you go, didn't they?"
"Be patient! I'm getting to that. It seems they'd not had much dealing with humans before, so they studied us a while, quite curiously. We read them the Gospel, and they were very fascinated by it. We even met Korath himself, their great leader."
I folded my arms. It sounded like one of Mom's tall tales. "Come on, you're not exaggerating a little?"
She shook her head. "No, Robert! Not at all. They treated us very well. There has been a regrettable bit of nastiness among their own kind, which is how we found ourselves in the company of these rebels. They told us they were leaving to meet you. I didn't really believe them, but... well, look at us now!"
"You both look pretty good for pushing eighty," I remarked.
"Their technology is very sophisticated," Dad said. "I didn't want to be subjected to their age-defying nonsense but your mother insisted we'd see you again someday."
Gee, thanks for trying to be happy to see me, Dad. Asshole. "Well, like I said, you both look good. Healthy. I'm glad you're okay. I'm just not sure what else to feel about this. You vanished without a trace. Richard and I both figured you were dead."
"How is your brother?" Mom wondered.
"Don't know. He sided with the Confederation during the war. Haven't seen or heard from him since." Yes, Mom, your favorite son is a traitor. How do you feel about that?
"Oh, the war." My mother looked crestfallen. "We did hear about that. I'm very sorry for what happened to you, Robert."
"Water under the bridge, I guess. We're here and alive, at least for now."
An awkward silence ensued. None of us were sure what to say. What words could bridge a thirty-year gap? I cleared my throat. "For what it's worth, I'm glad to see both of you. I know things are weird, but I hope we make it out of this alive."
"With you in charge, how can anything go wrong?" my father snapped with sarcasm. Thanks, pop!
It was weird how little they'd changed, after so many years. I don't think they knew any other way to deal with me. In their minds, I'd calcified as that confused fourteen-year-old they left behind. They had no idea how to deal with me as a man--and not just a man, but a middle-aged man, with a life and career of his own, no longer needing Mommy and Daddy's approval.
I decided it was time to just let things sink in, for all of us, and not move too quickly. If we all met a fiery death among the stars, so be it--at least we had our little reunion. I tapped the intercom on the wall behind me. "Ramsey, how are things going with the rebels?"
"Um, I think you should get up here, sir. They've laid out our next objective and you should see for yourself."
Good enough, I thought. I excused myself, leaving my parents to wonder how they could ever hope to relate to their son in what little time they had left, and I headed for the conference room adjacent to the bridge, where I knew Ramsey and the rest of the relevant staff were talking with the rebels.
Along the way, I pondered exactly what the Koraxians were trying to accomplish by handing my parents over in this fashion. It seemed a little too convenient, to say the least, and I couldn't deny the possibility they did it specifically to put me off-guard, unbalance me, make me act rashly.
I found the reason as soon as I stepped into the room: a three-dimensional projection of an Oolian Cruiser hovered above the table. Ramsey looked at me and spoke. "That, sir, is our next target."
You have got to be fucking kidding me.
We escaped to a system unknown to us, taking a handful of fold vectors that were--once again--not on our charts. We were deep in the bush now, fully committed. Nowhere to run.
The mission had been a great success, though it came with a high cost. My own ship, brutally damaged, probably wouldn't stand up to another attack. Our friends weren't in much better shape. Both of us set about repairs.
An exterior survey reported back on the extent of the damage to the upper part of the Protector. I'll spare you the boring details. Suffice it to say, imagine someone took a submarine sandwich and pounded it with their fist as hard as they could. Yeah, that's basically what happened. The engineers estimated a good three to six months in dock would be required for proper repairs. We all knew that wasn't going to happen.
The rebellious Koraxians tried a smooth move to cheer me up. Totally uenxpected, I might add. They indicated they were shipping a "token of friendship" on a small pod. I went down to the main bay to receive it.
I had no idea what to expect. Maybe some magical technology that would repair all our damage? Free tickets for a lovely vacation on sunny Salmax IV? Never--not in a million years--could I have known what was about to emerge from the slick, silver pod.
It was large-ish, big enough to hold a few people, so I thought it might have been fuel or maybe a bunch of gold or something. Nope. Nothing like that.
Rather, two people stepped out of a hole that appeared suddenly on one side. One man, one woman. Older. Older than me. Some spark of familiarity rattled around the back of my mind but I couldn't quite place it. I couldn't process what the rational parts of my being were dying to tell me.
"Robert?" the woman asked, nervously breaking the silence.
"Do I... know you?" I managed, my brain a jumbled mess of thoughts and emotions I simply didn't want to accept.
"It's us. We came back. God, it's been so long." She seemed to be having just as much trouble with it as I was. "We've missed everything, haven't we?" she asked, a tinge of sadness in her voice.
"Not everything. I'm not dead yet. But that could be in the very near future."
"Don't be so grim. I've told you about that."
My father--my father, I repeated mentally, as if the repetition would make it sink in--he didn't say anything. Never a man for many words, even after thirty years of absence.
So they stood there, my parents, thirty years older, sizing up the boy they'd left behind, whom they barely recognized. I had a lot of questions for them, and I figured they had just as many for me.
Eventually, I remembered my manners and asked them to accompany me to my quarters. I assigned Ramsey to work with the Koraxians on coordinating repairs, set up our next objective, and not to, under any fucking circumstances, bother me.
We came to my quarters and they sat down, scoping out the room, taking in my plaques, medals, the chronicle of my career that adorned the walls.
"You've made quite a life for yourself," my mother commented.
"Yeah, it's not bad."
"Why the military?" my father asked, finally opening his mouth.
"Well, I didn't have a lot of choice in the matter, since the two of you left me to get half blown-up by the Easters." Honestly, I hadn't meant to snap at him, but it was just his tone--I never forgot the way it always provoked me.
"That's enough," she said, eyes darting between the two of us.
I sighed. "You're right, let's just talk. What happened? Where have you been for the last thirty years?"
My mother gave a wrinkled smile and began her story. "You remember the last time we left, we were headed past Procyon. We'd heard about some primitives on a nearby planet who'd not yet heard the Word. The Koraxians beat us there, and took us prisoner."
"You don't seem like prisoners," I noted. "They just let you go, didn't they?"
"Be patient! I'm getting to that. It seems they'd not had much dealing with humans before, so they studied us a while, quite curiously. We read them the Gospel, and they were very fascinated by it. We even met Korath himself, their great leader."
I folded my arms. It sounded like one of Mom's tall tales. "Come on, you're not exaggerating a little?"
She shook her head. "No, Robert! Not at all. They treated us very well. There has been a regrettable bit of nastiness among their own kind, which is how we found ourselves in the company of these rebels. They told us they were leaving to meet you. I didn't really believe them, but... well, look at us now!"
"You both look pretty good for pushing eighty," I remarked.
"Their technology is very sophisticated," Dad said. "I didn't want to be subjected to their age-defying nonsense but your mother insisted we'd see you again someday."
Gee, thanks for trying to be happy to see me, Dad. Asshole. "Well, like I said, you both look good. Healthy. I'm glad you're okay. I'm just not sure what else to feel about this. You vanished without a trace. Richard and I both figured you were dead."
"How is your brother?" Mom wondered.
"Don't know. He sided with the Confederation during the war. Haven't seen or heard from him since." Yes, Mom, your favorite son is a traitor. How do you feel about that?
"Oh, the war." My mother looked crestfallen. "We did hear about that. I'm very sorry for what happened to you, Robert."
"Water under the bridge, I guess. We're here and alive, at least for now."
An awkward silence ensued. None of us were sure what to say. What words could bridge a thirty-year gap? I cleared my throat. "For what it's worth, I'm glad to see both of you. I know things are weird, but I hope we make it out of this alive."
"With you in charge, how can anything go wrong?" my father snapped with sarcasm. Thanks, pop!
It was weird how little they'd changed, after so many years. I don't think they knew any other way to deal with me. In their minds, I'd calcified as that confused fourteen-year-old they left behind. They had no idea how to deal with me as a man--and not just a man, but a middle-aged man, with a life and career of his own, no longer needing Mommy and Daddy's approval.
I decided it was time to just let things sink in, for all of us, and not move too quickly. If we all met a fiery death among the stars, so be it--at least we had our little reunion. I tapped the intercom on the wall behind me. "Ramsey, how are things going with the rebels?"
"Um, I think you should get up here, sir. They've laid out our next objective and you should see for yourself."
Good enough, I thought. I excused myself, leaving my parents to wonder how they could ever hope to relate to their son in what little time they had left, and I headed for the conference room adjacent to the bridge, where I knew Ramsey and the rest of the relevant staff were talking with the rebels.
Along the way, I pondered exactly what the Koraxians were trying to accomplish by handing my parents over in this fashion. It seemed a little too convenient, to say the least, and I couldn't deny the possibility they did it specifically to put me off-guard, unbalance me, make me act rashly.
I found the reason as soon as I stepped into the room: a three-dimensional projection of an Oolian Cruiser hovered above the table. Ramsey looked at me and spoke. "That, sir, is our next target."
You have got to be fucking kidding me.
Ahhhh, parents. You gotta
...right?
I don't think you have to...