“That is correct,” Que Dee added. “If she was as damaged as you have indicated, then she would have been beyond help and repair. We would have had to terminate her life as well.”

  Arion fell to his knees, the tears flowing freely.

  Blazer and Marda rushed to his side. “Arion, I don’t know what to say,” Blazer said.

  “She told me to live, that she’d forgiven me, and that she’d loved me.”

  “Then I suggest you do just that,” Marda replied and hugged Arion.

  “Alieha had the heart of a true warrior, no matter its origin. You did what you had to do. Make no mistake, cadet; this changes you more than even your first kill. Ending the life of a loved one, granting them a merciful end, is not something you can ever come back from. But you are one of the strongest young warriors I have seen in a long time. You will survive. You will fight on in her name, by doing your duty, by going out there to fight, and end those who would require such sacrifice.”

  Main Hangar, UCSBA-13, Star System: Classified

  Arion hadn’t been sure what to expect once they’d returned to the academy, but this wasn’t it. As their dropship powered down inside the hangar the rear ramp cycled open to reveal a full honor guard awaiting their arrival. Arrayed before them in their dress uniforms, the cadets snapped to attention. Chief Flind waited at the end of the procession with Dr Sares and his medical staff.

  The cadets within the dropship proceeded out into the low-gravity hangar bay carrying the bodies of the fallen. First, they carried out Officer Marmeh’s body, followed by the remains canisters of the Observer Corvette crews. Each of the cadets carried a single body. The bodies of the cadets followed, one at a time. Arion led Alieha’s body out last.

  Arion’s face was an emotionless mask. He couldn’t betray any emotion as he led Alieha’s body bag down the ramp. As he walked, he couldn’t help but notice the looks on the honor guard’s faces. Many wavered in their stances, a few even looked queasy. Most were first annura Special Operations cadets. None of them had yet faced what his class had.

  He thought about what his class had been through. They had seen so much death: the battle above the academy; the dozen or so lost on their ‘low-priority’ training, to sorties and now their battle with the Gorvians.

  Arion kept his eyes focused straight ahead, leading Alieha to where Dr Sares and his staff collected the bodies. Dr Sares himself looked away as Arion approached, his face grim and joyless. “We’ll take her from here, son.”

  Arion intended to show no emotion, but felt his face and shoulders falter at the doctor’s words. His eyes welling up, he turned to Dr Sares. “I’d like to stay with her, at least until we reach the morgue, sir.”

  Dr Sares stood there for several long centipulses looking at Arion. Then he scratched at his own temple. Arion noticed an old micomm scar there for the first time. “You can see us as far as the morgue entrance cadet.”

  Dr Sares’ assistant turned in protest but found himself waved off.

  “You’ve earned that much.”

  UCSB DATE: 1003.213

  Funeral Platform, UCSBA-13, System: Classified

  Arion had never been to the funeral platform before. It was located outspin of even the deepest of the deep ruts. The assembled cadets and staff could only stand because of the anti-gravity repulsors built into the deck negating the centrifugal effect of their position. This would be the second funeral of the cycle: the bodies of the crews who’d died aboard the observer corvettes had already been committed to space. Now only those of the cadets and Officer Marmeh remained.

  Arion looked ahead at the ten caskets, eight containing the remains of the dead while two were empty. All told, the mass of the cadets launching this cycle would still be more than that of the corvette crews. That humbled Arion as he looked at the pristine white cases. Nothing marred their white surfaces, save for the microthruster ports built into them and their metal identification plates. Each one bore the name of the cadet within and a true color, two-dimensional holograph of the occupant.

  The cadets and staff stood at ease before the caskets in silent reverence. The command staff entered a moment later and everyone in the chamber shot to rigid attention.

  The sound of their boots slamming together echoed through the hall. With eyes caged and arms stiff at their sides, the command staff took the stage opposite the cadets. Arion couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen them all in their dress uniforms. Even Tadeh Qudas was wearing his. Arion had never seen that before. The array of campaign ribbons and awards across his chest was greater than the rest of the cadres combined and contained many he’d never seen before.

  The Admiral took the podium and looked over the gathered crowd. “At Rest!”

  The cadets and officers responded, widening their stances, but keeping their heads and eyes caged.

  The admiral’s face was somber as he looked out over the crowd. “In war, death is an ever-present part of our lives. We must kill, to stop our enemy, to save our own lives, and far too often, we are the ones who fall.” The admiral paused for a moment, letting his words sink in. “No death in war is meaningless. Before you send the remains of your fallen comrades to the stars remember: they gave their lives so that we might live and fight on. They say that to die in battle is noble and honorable. But this is only true if those who remain continue the fight where the fallen have left it.

  “These brave warriors lost their lives to an enemy we thought we no longer needed to fear. An enemy whose reappearance after more than two centuries may change the very nature of this war that we fight. We may never know why this enemy attacked us in this way. But whatever their mission, it has failed. The acts of these brave young sentients have seen to that.

  “In recognition of their valor and sacrifice, our fallen comrades are hereby promoted two grades. Officer Marmeh is hereby promoted to the rank of Officer Seventy, with all the rights and privileges therein. May his wife and children take this to their hearts. Cadets Adrick, Bale, Celid, Cheorseo, Garg, Oric, Sentile, and Tendrick are hereby promoted to the rank of Officer Twenty with all the rights and privileges that entails May their families take this to their hearts.”

  Microbots emerged from hidden ports in the nameplates on the caskets. The machines etched the new ranks onto the surface of the plates before disassembling themselves.

  Arion stared at the plate on Alieha’s casket. He took a deep breath and felt tears leak from his eyes. The cost of that promotion was far too high. He tried to stem the tears, but the harder he fought to keep them back the more they welled up and flowed freely down his cheeks. He didn’t want anyone to see him this way and for the first time that he could recall broke from his caged stance in formation to wipe the tears from his eyes and face.

  After the last microbot disintegrated, the Admiral continued. “As befits a member of the UCSB Space Forces, we now commit the bodies of our fallen to the stars. For, as we are born of the stars, we must eventually return to them and complete the cycle that is the universe in all its glory. Pallbearers approach.”

  Thirty-six cadets and officers broke ranks and approached the caskets. In groups of four, the pallbearers each retrieved a casket. Four instructor/officers transported Officer Marmeh’s casket to the launch port first. They loaded the casket into a cradle extending from the wall. As they stepped away it retracted into the clear silica-steel tube where the force of the centrifugal spin could exert its full potential.

  “Company, Atten’Hut!” Admiral Sares declared.

  The crowd snapped back to attention, facing the launch port.

  “Present Arms!”

  A light above the cradle port shone green as the academy’s spin brought the launch port close to facing the local star. Everyone saluted, holding their right arms across their chests, hands fisted, thumbs tucked with the back of their hands facing outwards. In the blink of an eye, the light turned blue, and the brakes holding the casket in place released, sending the casket towards the distant spherical inferno.

  “Order Arms!”

  The cadets dropped their arms back to their sides in response.

  The admiral repeated the process for the each of the fallen cadets. Four cadets from Rimshoe squadron delivered Adrick to the cradle next. Then the surviving members of the Nobgal Squadron brought Bale, Celid, Cheorseo and Garg forward. Chertsin and Saldray led the quartet taking Oric to the launcher; Chertsin’s face a mask of anger and sadness. Mar Rade, Sentile’s squadron commander, led her casket along with her husband Jess and two others from the squadron.

  Arion and Marda led another two more psychology cadets forward with Alieha’s casket between them. Arion’s legs felt like noodles. He tried not to show any weakness as he lifted the casket onto the launch cradle, but couldn’t hold back the tears. He staggered back a moment as the casket retracted into the wall. He maintained his composure enough to salute as the admiral gave the order one last time.

  Arion remained at the launch tube a long while after the casket had been launched. He watched it as long as he could, catching the light of the microthrusters firing to correct its course towards the local star. He continued to stand there, sure that he would fall if he attempted to walk away. The admiral called the group back to rest and dismissed them. Arion remained to watch the dwindling dot of the casket each time the academy rotated to bring it into view until it disappeared altogether, lost in the glare.

  Mendrick’s Bar and Grill, UCSBA-13

  Arion held his drink in both hands, staring into it. He dared not look around the all but silent tavern. He felt sure that Mendrick had to hate it in spite of the number of drinks flowing throughout the establishment. Right now, Arion just wished that the liquor before him had some kind of effect. He never liked to get drunk, and as a Self-Healer, it was next to impossible. He’d already downed a full bottle of Porc’s favorite rot gut and felt only the slightest buzz. What do I have to drink in order to deaden the pain: straight up poison?

  A chuckle from the bar brought Arion’s eyes up. Seniors, all of them still in their dress uniforms, crowded the tavern. Each of them nursed their drinks. Movement on one of the holoplayers drew Arion’s eye. It wasn’t a game on display, but a memorial holovid a few cadets had assembled.

  At the bar, Bale’s wingman sat and held up a glass to the nearest holo. On it Bale performed an amusing skit he’d come up with for the previous Cycle of Outcome Celebration. The skit had earned him deck cleaning duty for a decle. Not that it had mattered to Bale; his whole squadron was stuck at the academy that break. He’d done it to cheer them up. He always did things like that, putting others ahead of himself.

  Arion watched the holo and caught several clips of Alieha. She looked radiant, even in the shots of her acting silly, though no one laughed at those. It hurt too much. Then Arion found a scene he remembered well. Most of the dead were in it. She was pretending to inspect them. They stood all in a line on the flightdeck, flexing and showing off to her as she strutted past in a work jump suit half a size too small for her. Arion smiled. It looked painted on. Each of the men on display flashed a cheesy grin at her and the camera as she inspected them, then Arion walked into the scene. He carried a missile upon his shoulder, sweat soaking through the white tanktop enough to reveal the chiseled muscles beneath.

  Alieha dropped all pretenses of her inspection and rushed up to Arion. She wrapped her arms around his massive, muscled form and planted a kiss on him. The others slumped their shoulders and hung their heads in defeat. Then they all walked out of view laughing. As the scene concluded, Arion felt a smile turn his lips, the first one he could remember since before the attack. Turning to the bar, he found almost everyone there had raised their glasses in recognition and he smiled back at them. His dark mood lifted enough to allow him a moment’s peace.

  A moment was all the peace the universe saw fit to give him as three obnoxious second annura cadets sauntered in. Laughing and joking, they stopped at the entrance for the briefest of moments looking for an empty table before heading over to the bar. At least one of them appeared to realize that something was up as he attempted to quiet his squadmates, but it was to no avail.

  Arion did his best to ignore them, but the Yellow Jackets made even Porc and Rudjick’s obnoxious antics seem like child’s play. Most cadets doffed their mustard yellow uniforms and jackets when off duty, but not the yellow jackets. They kept theirs on as much as possible. Worse, they’d done something to them to make them all but glow, just to increase the visual annoyance. Their cocky attitudes even drew Chertsin’s ire.

  Arion tried to cancel out their voices as they reached the bar. One of them, a goat-faced four armed Otlian, used his hands to explain the complex flight maneuver he’d just demonstrated. “I should get a medal that thing is so perfect.”

  “Shut up Stag. Hey Mendrick, three Dorian Meads,” his squadmate replied.

  “Dude, check the holos. Its cadet’s funniest tri-vids,” the first one said in a voice that would be appropriate were the tavern as loud as normal, but it boomed in the silence.

  “Check out that idiot. Uh dur, you’re in freefall smart guy.”

  Arion gritted his teeth. He heard a mug slam down onto a nearby table, silencing the cadet. He looked over, it was the Nobgals. All of them glared at the trio with unrestrained malice. They couldn’t believe that anyone would disparage Garg like that as the holovid replayed his arrival at the academy.

  The leader of the trio took a look around the room and scoffed. “Oh I get it,” he said, lowering his voice, but not enough. “These must be some of the fools who got themselves killed against a single corvette. What a bunch of losers.”

  His Otlian comrade chuffed and took a drink. “Sheol. I could take a corvette down with one Plaser DXed by myself if I wanted to. They barely managed it with a Mangler and a bunch of transports and fighters. Did you all forget how to aim?”

  The shattering of glass from the table of Chertsin’s Commandoes silenced the cadets and everyone turned to look. Chertsin stood at his table, the shattered remains of his mug still in his hand as he ground it into the tabletop, his whole body rigid. His face scrunched up, and teeth gritted, he looked up at the trio. “You don’t know,” he began, venom in every syllable as he fought to control his accent. “This wasn’t some GF Raattler, or captured Liberator, or even an Armond. This was a full-on Gorvian strike corvette. It carried more firepower than most cruisers. Sheol any other race would classify it as a destroyer.”

  A few cadets harrumphed in agreement, fixing the trio with weary, anger filled eyes.

  “You can’t know what it was like. You weren’t there, and I hope that even the likes of you never has to see it. That beast outmassed every transport in our fleet. It destroyed the observer corvettes like they were nothing with its eighty metra bore beam cannon. We did our best to try and escape like we’d been ordered, but it wouldn’t let us. One of my men died facing it, Officer Marmeh died facing it, Alieha died ramming it to give us the edge we needed to defeat it. They sacrificed themselves so that little punks like you need not be facing it.” Chertsin stopped and swallowed hard. “So shut your damn plebe mouths. So far as any here be concerned, you don’t dare speak to us again. Not until you be facing those things in action, until you be seeing real combat.”

  Arion almost wanted to applaud Chertsin as he sat back down. He was impressed by how well and how long he’d kept his accent in check despite his anger. Other cadets were not so hindered and raised their mugs in silent appreciation. “To all those who have fallen, we carry on in your names!” someone called.

  “To all those who have fallen, we carry on in your names!” the seniors all responded, raising their mugs, even Arion.

  The Yellow Jackets just sat there, stunned. In silence, they returned to their drinks.

  Arion let out a breath and nodded. Of all people, Chertsin’s words put the whole incident in perspective, much like how Trevis had done almost three annura earlier. Do Tomeris just have a better grasp of such things? They’d faced a ship which had destroyed a full-on carrier and more with nothing more than plasers and excavation charges. The sacrifice of Alieha and her crew made that victory possible. He allowed himself to smile.

  Arion looked around the room. Everyone seemed to be thinking the same thoughts, at least those who weren’t already drunk. Then it all went straight to Sheol.

  Arion caught the stage whispered conversation between the Yellow Jackets. “She wasn’t even real. See it turns out that stone hottie, the one up there now, she was some kind of bio-droid. This doe I’m stoicking in medical told me last cycle.”

  “Sick man,” his friend replied.

  “Yeah, and you know what’s really sick? One of these twisted freaks was using her as his own little love puppet. I mean what kind of freak gets his jollies of making it with a machine? Sheol, I bet it was that freak who yelled at us. He looked the type who could only get it from some robot he progr…”

  Seething with uncontrolled rage, Arion lunged from his seat and grabbed the cadet by the back of the neck. In one smooth motion, he yanked him from the bar and slammed him onto the Nip Tails table. The sound of wood and bone cracking accompanied the impact. He rolled the cadet over to face him and met his frightened eyes. He’d never felt such bloodlust before. His hand engulfed the younger cadet’s throat and he began squeezing, smashing his windpipe against his spine. The cadet struggled for breath and to get free, but he was no match for Arion. His squadmates joining couldn’t save him, Arion just batted them away like moths.

  “You have no idea who she was,” Arion roared. “She was more alive, more caring, more intelligent and braver than a little punk like you could ever aspire to be.” Arion felt the eyes of everyone in the bar upon him. Blazer approached in an attempt to calm him. “She knew who and what she was, but none of us did. Even if we did, none of us would have cared. She represented everything an officer should be, everything a little piece of scrap like you never could be. Everyone here will mourn and honor her loss. Do you think any will do the same for yours? Would anyone care or even try to stop me if I just shoved you out of a deep rut airlock right now?”