Chapter Seventeen
2493 Words
Chapter Seventeen
By the evening meal, the full repercussions of his mission began filtering through the fleet. Their disrupter ship destroyed, the Vindicarn retreated to their home world. The Cassan fleet had pursued their enemy, engaging stragglers and those who still dared to fight. Several neighboring allies pledged to assist with the decimation of the Vindicarn if they refused to surrender or acknowledge a truce. Regardless of the enemy’s final decision, they would no longer be a threat in this part of the galaxy.
Byron endured another round of congratulations and answered every imaginable question regarding his flight through the Vindicarn vessel. Flanked at all times by his squadron, he handled the attention with grace. The mission hadn’t been about glory, but Byron found he quite liked his new status as a war hero. The men kept him occupied and he managed to put aside the terrible events of the past week.
Bassa occupied his thoughts when he awoke the following morning, though. Free until that evening, when a victory celebration was scheduled, Byron spent most of the day going through the information in his navigator’s files. He read the various entries and notes and examined each image in depth. Byron wished his friend were alive to share his moment of glory. Bassa’s thoughts and feelings of pride would carry far more meaning than the endless congratulations from his fellow officers.
Byron donned his best uniform for the evening’s ceremony and celebration. He preferred to remain in his quarters, but his presence was required. After last night, his desire for attention waned. Reviewing Bassa’s files had reminded him of his original purpose when volunteering for the assignment. Since he survived the ordeal, Byron assumed he was destined for far greater accomplishments. In light of this revelation, he decided to abandon his arrogant attitude. It no longer suited him anyway. At any rate, Bassa always preferred humbleness. Byron could now accommodate his friend’s wishes.
He arrived in the hangar and discovered the cavernous room filled with people. Entering with reluctance, Byron’s presence was noted by many. Every man on the ship now knew his name and face and his days of obscurity obliterated by that one mission. Smiling in appreciation of the comments that filtered in his direction, Byron moved through the crowd. The warm reception was nice, but he hoped to find a familiar face soon.
Byron!
Glancing around, Byron noticed someone moving toward him. Wentar fell in step beside him and smiled.
Come on!
He led Byron to their squadron, positioned near the raised platform. The sight of his comrades came as a relief. Ernx and Nintal took up station at his side and someone else retrieved a drink for the young pilot. Byron declined a plate of food, claiming he wasn’t hungry. Now that he stood among friends, his anxiety began to subside.
I thought you enjoyed the spotlight? thought Ernx, resorting to his mental voice in order to be heard over the crowd.
Scanning the endless sea of faces, Byron shook his head. Not like this. I almost stayed in my quarters.
“What?” Ernx exclaimed, almost spilling his drink. “Byron, who do you think this celebration is for?”
Byron’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”
The commander’s call for order penetrated every mind. Larnth prodded the men to assemble as a squadron and Byron glanced around for a place to deposit his glass. He noticed others still holding drinks and plates, and decided to hold the glass at his side. Kernen and his senior officers scanned the crowd from the raised platform, waiting for the noise to settle. When some semblance of silence was achieved, the commander spoke, his voice amplified across the hangar.
“Men, during this time of war, we have faced a relentless enemy. Many gave their lives in battle. Others sacrificed their mental abilities. Every victory was followed by defeat.”
The commander paused, his brows pulled together. “However, we just received word that after a brief skirmish over their home world, the Vindicarn have requested a cease fire.”
A mighty roar of cheers met his announcement. Byron turned to Ernx and let loose a triumphant cry. Relief and excitement rippled across the hangar. The war was over.
Kernen allowed the men to revel in the victory. The cheers subsided. Byron took a quick sip of his drink and flashed Ernx a smile.
“I cannot say enough about the strength and resiliency of the men serving on the Sorenthia,” the commander said. “There will be many honors and recommendations bestowed when we return to Cassa. I am proud of this crew and your dedication to the fleet.”
Kernen glanced to his left and a junior officer stepped forward. The man held a small box in his hands. Returning his gaze to the crowd, the commander lifted his chin.
“The Five Star Medal of Honor is awarded to those whose contributions affect the very course of Cassan society,” he said with authority, his eyes narrowed. “It exemplifies bravery, excellence, and the ability to rise above adversity, regardless of the sacrifice required. Tonight, we have an officer present whose actions more than qualify.
“Officer Byron, step forward.”
Byron almost dropped the glass at his side. He’d expected a word of thanks and praise from the commander, but not the highest honor the fleet could bestow. Byron’s whole body froze and he stared at the commander in disbelief.
Byron! Ernx thought.
Someone removed the glass from his hand. A gentle shove from behind propelled Byron forward. Moving in a daze, he stepped out of the crowd and approached the platform. His feet drug as if made of lead and he all but stumbled up the steps. Byron came to an abrupt halt in front of Kernen. The commander’s eyes twinkled with amusement, but only genuine pride exuded from his thoughts.
Kernen nodded at the officer holding the box. Byron cast a sideways glance as he approached. The young man flipped open the dark case, revealing the elaborate, five-pointed medal. Inlaid with golden crystals, the large emblem hung from a short, thick ribbon. The Cassan symbol was embroidered on a background of yellow and gold, and the medal’s shape mirrored that proud symbol. It was a thing of beauty.
Averting his eyes, Byron realized the commander awaited his full attention. Straightening his back, he stood erect and clasped his hands to his sides.
“Officer Byron, your actions, above and beyond the call of duty, have directly affected the outcome of this war,” Kernen said in his most formal voice. “You were the only man capable of performing the mission. Your unique ability was crucial, but so were your skills as a pilot. You were willing to volunteer for this mission and executed it with precision just days after the loss of your navigator, Officer Bassa. That speaks volumes of your character as well as your skill.
“Officer Byron,” the commander said, turning to retrieve the medal. “It is with great honor that I present you with the Five Star Medal of Honor.”
Byron eyed the medal as Kernen raised it to his chest. Breath held to hide the tremble running through his body, Byron’s gaze returned to Kernen as the commander pinned the medal on his uniform. The man completed his task and stepped back to give Byron a proper salute. He returned the gesture and Kernen nodded.
The crowd broke into spontaneous cheers and applause. Byron’s face flushed with embarrassment as the noise continued to grow in strength. He remained rooted to the spot, afraid to face the Sorenthia’s crew. The commander flashed him an encouraging smile.
Turn around, Officer Byron, he thought. You’ve faced far worse than this.
Clenching his fists, Byron pivoted. The men surged forward and crowded around the stage. Feeling humble, he took a deep breath and searched the crowd for a familiar face. Locating his squadron, Byron permitted a smile to cross his lips. Their antics far surpassed that of the other officers.
Those closest to the stairs gestured for him to descend. Apprehensive, Byron rejoined the crowd. He was buffeted with congratulations and words of praise and thanks. Every man wanted to touch the decorated pilot, as if to verify he was real. Almost ten minutes passed before Hannar reached him and pulled Byron to safety.
With good food and drink available, the men reveled in their celebrations. Someone brought Byron a plate of food, but he had little opportunity to consume it, as those nearby asked endless questions. Still in shock, he answered in as few words as possible. When entering the fleet, Byron had wanted to be the best pilot. He’d envisioned great glory and standing proud before his peers. Now that he held that honor, he experienced only humility.
After a while, Byron needed a break from the attention. Edging toward a side door, he informed Ernx he’d return in a moment. Before anyone could stop him, Byron darted into the hallway and entered the nearest telepod. He couldn’t vanish for long, but he needed a few moments to clear his head. Contemplating his destination, Byron selected the last place his friends would consider.
Exiting the telepod, he discovered the corridor empty. Moving with haste, Byron slipped unnoticed into the hydroponics bay. Strolling down the familiar, winding path, he came upon the bench where he and Bassa had shared many moments. Taking a seat at one end of the bench, he leaned forward. The tranquil silence settled over him and the confusion in his mind receded.
Glancing at his chest, Byron reached for the medal. His fingers brushed the ribbon, the material silky to the touch. He held it up for inspection and determined the medal was indeed real. Byron considered the honor and wondered what he could do to top this achievement. He had nothing left to prove as a fighter pilot.
Officer Byron?
Startled by the voice in his head, Byron released the medal and glanced down the path. The commander watched from a curve in the path and Byron rose to his feet at once. Kernen smiled as he approached.
“At ease, son,” he said, gesturing for Byron to return to his seat. “May I join you for a moment?”
“Yes, sir, of course,” said Byron.
Leaning back, Kernen smiled at Byron and c****d one eyebrow. “You do realize that ceremony will be repeated again on Cassa with our high commander?”
Byron grimaced. “Yes, sir, I suspected as much,” he said, clasping his hands together. “And sir? Thank you. I still can’t believe it.”
“The moment the news came through regarding the cease-fire, I contacted our high commander,” Kernen informed him. “He recommend the Five Star Medal before I even made the suggestion. You earned that honor, Byron.”
Glancing again at his medal, Byron considered his response with care. “I didn’t earn it by myself, sir.”
Raising his gaze, Byron met Kernen’s eyes and saw quiet understanding. His chest tightened as he contemplated Bassa’s numerous sacrifices. His friend worked so hard to get Byron to this point. Bassa deserved the medal even more.
“You brought him peace, Byron.”
The commander’s gentle but affirming words tugged at his heart. Byron managed a weak smile.
Draping an arm across the back of the bench, Kernen cleared his throat. “What are your plans, Officer Byron? Will you remain on the Sorenthia or seek other opportunities? There’s not a commander in the fleet that would turn away a fighter pilot with your qualifications.”
“Sir, I…” began Byron. Leaning further forward, he closed his eyes. “Sir, I’m going to request a reassignment to Exploration.”
“Exploration?”
“Yes, sir. Exploration was Bassa’s dream. The night before he died, I told him when the war ended, we’d pursue a career in Exploration instead. Now that the war’s over, I intend to keep my promise.”
“Son,” the commander began in a patient voice, “don’t do it just because of an obligation.”
Byron leaned back and lifted his chin. “Sir, I’m not flying with anyone else. I can’t. I thought I wanted the glory and prestige that goes with being a fighter pilot, but it’s lost its appeal now. I’ve nothing left to prove, especially to myself.
“I want to do this for Bassa, and more importantly, for me. I’m ready to live my own life now.”
Kernen continued to gaze at Byron, as if contemplating his words. A smile crept across his face and the commander inclined his head.
“The choice is yours, Byron. And I have no doubt you will achieve great success in the endeavor.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Rising to his feet, the commander straightened his jacket. Byron stood up as well, his body at attention.
“I hope you will rejoin the celebration, Officer Byron,” said Kernen.
“Yes, sir, I will return momentarily.”
Satisfied with his response, the commander departed. Alone once more, Byron closed his eyes and allowed the peaceful silence fill his mind. The stillness reflected the serenity in his heart. He’d made the right decision.
He turned to leave, but paused after taking a few steps. Byron’s gaze returned to the bench and he envisioned Bassa residing in the spot the commander had just vacated. His friend’s smiling face and thoughts of understanding and acceptance toward his troublesome pilot brought comfort and filled him with hope. He would hold on to that sensation as long as he lived.
“You knew all along,” he whispered. “I will be all right, my brother.”
Taking a deep breath, Byron turned to rejoin the celebration.
Amazon Best Seller and Pinnacle Award Winner!
“…hearkens back to Robert A. Heinlein’s early books in its appeal to a younger adult audience as well as military sf fans.”
- Library Journal
“This is a book of inner and outer journeys, of inner and outer adventures, mysteries and revelations. It is also a book of friendship, relationship and equality. CassaStar is the cake. CassaFire is the cherry.” - Edi’s Book Lighthouse
“A fun filled space opera of romance and adventure, CassaFire harkens back to its 80s influences like Battlestar Galactica, Buck Rogers in the 20th Century, and Star Wars. Family friendly and sure to please fans of classic space opera in the Golden Age Style.”- Bryan Thomas Schmidt, author “The Worker Prince”
“This is the ideal novel for anyone wanting to dip their toes into Sci-Fi. I can’t recommend this one highly enough.” - Fantasy Nibbles
“…perfect for someone looking for a light space adventure with… great characters and story. Highly Recommended.”
- Speculative Book Reviews
“Those looking for an unchallenging throwback will enjoy Byron’s adventure…”
- Publishers Weekly
“The author knows how to keep things moving... a real page turner. The best space opera fiction I've read in awhile.”
- Randy Johnson Not The Baseball Pitcher
CassaFire
Alex J. Cavanaugh
Copyright 2012 by Alex J. Cavanaugh
Published by Dancing Lemur Press, L.L.C.
P.O. Box 383, Pikeville, North Carolina, 27863-0383
http://dancinglemurpress.com/
Print ISBN 978-0-9827139-4-5
Ebook ISBN: 978-0-9827139-6-9
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in a retrieval system in any form – either mechanically, electronically, photocopy, recording, or other – except for short quotations in printed reviews, without the permission of the publisher.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Cover design by C.R.W.
Publisher’s Cataloging-in-Publication data
Cavanaugh, Alex J.
CassaFire / Alex J. Cavanaugh.
p. cm.
ISBN 978-0-9816210-6-7 (pbk.)
ISBN 978-0-9827139-3-8 (e-book)
1. Space travel —Fiction. 2. Outer space—Exploration—Fiction. 3. Teleportation—Fiction. 4. Psychokinesis—Fiction. 5. Science fiction. I. Title
PS3553.A964 C38 2012
[Fic]—dd22
2011937168
For my three awesome friends
who guided me on this journey -
Rusty Webb
Jeffrey Beesler
Anne Gallagher
I couldn’t have done it without you!
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
- Writer
