| |
“It's been a hoot having you on the mission, Zack.” Vanlith beamed at Decker. “Here's a little souvenir for your collection.” He pressed one of the 251st's squadron crests into Zack's hand. “If ever you feel lonely, call us. We’ll keep a scout suit your size handy.”
“Will do, Gus,” Decker grinned, but his smile didn't quite reach his haunted eyes.
“Sergeant, you're always welcome in the 251st,” Ryent offered his hand. “The Corps didn't do itself a favor by retiring you at the end of your hitch. If you ever re-enlist, give us a yell.”
“Thanks, sir. But it wasn't much. A baby could've walked into Amali's shit hole, what with all the ordnance you guys brought down.” Decker shrugged.
“Whatever you say, sergeant,” Ryent smiled at the man's off-hand embarrassment. “But you can be sure your name will come up in my report. I wish you and Captain Ducote could stay for the post-jump blast.”
“Sorry, sir, but we better be on our way. The less time Demetria spends attached to Charles Martel, the less trouble we'll encounter later. She's back to normal now and has a living to earn.”
Ryent locked eyes with Decker. His excuses were plausible, but the major knew it wasn't that. The retired sergeant had suffered too much and had let his desire for revenge go beyond his own moral limits, and he needed to distance himself from direct reminders of the events. It probably wasn't the healthiest way to deal with the problem, but he couldn't force the man. He could only hope Decker wouldn't self-destruct. Though God only knew what the probe had done to his mind.
“We all do things we regret later, Mister Decker.” Ryent's voice was soft. “The important thing is not to let the regrets destroy us. In the end, what's the difference between killing a man with a shot between the eyes, and letting his own horrible machinations destroy him? I'll tell you what the difference is: none. Dead is dead, and that's what Amali deserved. Only you can decide whether what you did was dishonorable. I have no right to judge, nor does anyone else, because none of us went through what you did. For what it's worth, I think you're a hell of a Marine, Decker, an honorable Marine and I'd be proud to see you in my unit. Take care.”
Zack snapped to attention. “Sir.”
With a final nod, Ryent and Vanlith left the airlock. Decker and Talyn were alone. She was wearing a commander's dark blue uniform, with an impressive row of ribbons on the tunic.
“I'd like to talk to you in private before you leave, Mister Decker.”
“Sure,” Zack shrugged, the mask of the carefree warrior slipping now that Ryent and Vanlith were gone. He looked exhausted, driven by ghosts and haunted by his memories. “Down in Demetria.”
“I'd prefer it if we were alone.”
“And I'd prefer it if Avril was there. Whatever you want to say to me, you can say in front of her.”
“Very well,” she acquiesced, knowing that Avril's presence would tilt the balance against her offer. “After you.”
*
Ducote broke off her pre-flight check and came to stand beside Zack, placing a possessive hand on his shoulder.
“I spoke with my superiors earlier today. They’re impressed by your performance and agree that you should never have been retired. They authorized me to offer you reinstatement in the Marine Corps, with a promotion to warrant officer and detail to Intelligence, where your natural talents will be put to good use. Your records will show you never left the Corps but came to my department the day of your original retirement. And you'll receive all the back pay too. It's only fair, since you worked for us all along, even though you didn't know it. And as a warrant in Intelligence, you’ll have a good shot at a direct commission to captain in two or three years.”
Zack Decker was speechless. He felt Avril tighten beside him. Talyn had just offered him the one thing he had dreamed about for so long. To be back in uniform, back in the Corps. A genuine Marine warrant officer no less. Then why where there so many butterflies in his stomach?
He turned his head to look at Avril, see what she had to say and found his answer. Her eyes pleaded silently, and that touched him deep down. She didn't want him to leave, yet didn't want to stand in his way either.
“Does your offer of employment still stand, Captain Ducote?” He asked in a strangled voice.
“Yes, Zack, it does,” she whispered. “But if you want to go back to the Corps, take what Hera is offering. It’s what you deserve.” Tears formed in the corners of her eyes. She seemed convinced he would leave her to return to his world.
A band of steel tightened around his heart, and he felt torn in half, between the Marine Corps and Avril Ducote. He no longer doubted that she loved him. She had comforted him two nights earlier when he finally broke under the strain of the last few months. Holding his head tightly against her breast, she had stroked his head and gently talked him through the worst of it. Avril Ducote had shown him understanding, acceptance, and tenderness. He couldn't leave her, even though she had set him free, even though he didn't love her as she loved him. Yet.
At that moment, Zachary T. Decker realized that he had finally left the Commonwealth Marine Corps for good. He wanted to face the future with Avril Ducote, and live the life of a free trader, far from the intrigues and the violence Hera Talyn's offer carried. His healing would take a long time, but with Avril, that time would be bearable. He smiled sadly at Talyn.
“Sorry, Commander. I've already accepted a better offer. Avril and I are going to make a go of it.” Zack sensed rather than heard Avril sob and pulled her against him tightly.
Talyn smiled back.
“Somehow, that's what I figured, and I told my superiors you'd turn it down. I guess there’s nothing left but to wish you good luck. You're both extraordinary people who deserve happiness. Your service record will still be amended to read that you voluntarily retired today, at your old rank, after a detail with Intelligence. You'll be getting your back pay, eventually.”
“Thank you, Commander.”
“If ever you change your mind, or want to contact me,” she tossed a small data wafer at him. Zack caught it with his right hand, “the procedure's on there. Remember, the Fleet needs all the friends it can get to stop scum like Amali.”
“Friends like Kinnear?”
“And you, I hope.”
“I'll try commander, but no more manipulation.”
“Promised. Good luck, Pathfinder, Avril. Oh, yes, one last thing. If you go to Trevan's Shipyards at Wyvern, they’ll give you a new rear ramp for Demetria. Trevan's already have a credit note in your name to cover the cost. It's the least we can do.”
“Thank you,” Avril nodded. “Goodbye.”
Without glancing back, Talyn climbed up the ladder and vanished into the frigate's airlock.
Less than an hour later, the two ships separated. Zack and Avril watched from the cockpit as Charles Martel gracefully sailed away, magnificent against the backdrop of stars. With a flash of light, she vanished into hyperspace, off on a new mission.
“Any regrets, darling,” Avril looked at him anxiously, stroking his cheek with the back of her hand.
“No.” Zack sighed. “Sure I wanted to go back, but I don't know if I could have handled it.” He shrugged. “After all this shit, I don't really know who I am anymore, but I do know you're more important than anything else in my life right now. And if I need to find my balance again, I'd rather do it here, with you.”
“I love you too, Zack,” Avril smiled and softly kissed him on the cheek.
“Where are we off to?” He asked.
“Any Outworld will do. We must find a cargo and get the ship working again.”
“Then how about Aramis?”
“Zack!” She eyed him suspiciously. “You're not thinking of taking your friend Tren to task for his little deception, are you?”
“Nah,” he gave her his patented aw-shucks grin, “not at all.”
“I don't believe you, Zack Decker.” She frowned.
“Okay, okay.” He raised his hands in surrender. “So I still think the bastard deserves one on the kisser but don't worry. We'll knock each other around a bit, but after we each put a few good ones in, he'll pull out a bottle of whiskey and we'll get stinking drunk telling each other lies about fights we were both in.”
“You’re bloody impossible, Zack.” She laughed at his disingenuous manner. It proved he was on the mend, and that made her happy. “Course two-one-five mark seven-zero, Mister Decker.”
“Two-one-five mark seven-zero it is, Captain. And if those little green squiggles are more than just decoration, the sublight drives are ready, with the hyperdrives standing by.”
“By God, I do believe we’ll make a true spacer out of you.”
“Only if you know how to teach an old monkey new tricks. What's our heading anyways?”
“Aramis. It sounds as good a place as any to start. I would like to hear more about your past from your friend Tren Kinnear.”
“Just make sure you don't believe everything he tells you. And never take him up on a job offer. I know how dangerous that can be.”
“Yes, but it has some nice side-effects.”
“Aye, Avril, that it does. Perhaps I'll just buy Tren a big drink to thank him. After all, if it weren't for him, we wouldn’t have met.”
“Maybe, maybe not. But somehow, I’m sure we were fated to meet, eventually.”
Before Zack could reply, Avril engaged the hyperdrives and set the autopilot. She rose and held out her hand.
“The ship can sail herself now, Zack. What do you say we celebrate your signing on as first officer and shareholder of Demetria?”
