Writer's Note: For this one, must thank Mr. Christopher Franke and his record company, Sonic Images, for issuing the third release of B5 soundtracks for my listening pleasure. The key one in this release, for me, was the one I typed THIS part to.
ENDGAME...
RIMSTALKER: THE RIDERS ON THE STORM; PART 17
"THE FIRES OF TWILIGHT" ACT I OF II
"As the end of Autumn 2261 drew near, with winter just around the corner, a failed experiment was about to run its final course; an experiment begat among the corridors of power, given form through our greatest fears. One man had decided he should rule...had decided that power was not given to you democratically, but had to be taken by force. Dark powers assisted this man, and he closed Earth away from the chaos beyond.
Another man, nobler by far, ruthless in his own way, faced that chaos first hand, with the other side of his soul near at hand. Now, having seen both sides of the coin, he had returned to his followers; grayer, more lined then he had been...but with his convinction strenghtened yet further. For John Sheridan, the path was clear. For all of his followers, the final battle of the war was close at hand. And as for President Morgan Clark, everything he had seized and built was starting to come apart at the seams..."
From "A History of the Earth Alliance Civil War."
* * *
Oct 31st, 2261.
On a day of dark superstition revered by humanity for hundreds of years, a great host was on the move. Survivors, all of them, and with purpose.
On a hundred bridges, commands were passed, the means towards the decided end already having been brought to pass. For once again, the red mists of hyperspace were being pierced by the engines of war. And the purpose of these ships of space was now a committed one; not sullied by intervention of higher powers, *not* affected by the needs of any Elder Race. This was a battle of the Younger Races, the races who had deigned to inherit the galaxy they called home, and in that inheritance, had agreed to try and make a better future for themselves.
But that time was *not* yet. For now, there was still so much to do.
A flare of ruddy light revealed the procession in all its decisiveness. At the head of the fleet, three ships bore on through the murk together, surrounded by all of their followers. These three ships were here by right of battle; by right of all their commanders and crews had done in the months before. One of them, a graceful yet deadly war cruiser of the Minbari. The second, among the first of the mightiest class of warships humanity had ever built. In another flash, the name 'AGAMEMNON' could clearly be seen on the side of this destroyer.
And the third? A fraction of the length and mass of either of the first two, but equally important to all that had come before...the fourth White Star to be built, now the flagship of the most advanced fleet of warships ever constructed; last survivor of those which had come before it. Ships that had, all three, died honourably, commanded to do the things that were necessary.
Behind these three ships, many more followed. A great many like the AGAMEMNON, for this was the battle these men and women of Earth had been waiting to fight for a *very* long time. The names on those ships were proud and sure; ALEXANDER. NIOBE. THESEUS. ARCHIMEDES. APHRODITE. A few more cruisers like the ones that had poured out into Earth's skies, fourteen years before. And so very many others who had decided to act, this day, to remove the darkness that remained.
* * *
South of the Miami Megapolis; the central Caribbean Sea. 1800 hrs, local time, 31 October.
"Everything is in order, I will assume?" Alistair Molloy inquired politely from the perch on the side of his boat, as across the water, the Nightwatch patrol leader grunted, and nodded sourly. "Even in this age of restrictions, one *must* assume that a cruise for pleasure is still allowed, yes? I thought so; good day to you, then, and DO keep a watchful eye out; you never DO know *where* those nasty revolutionaries could be hiding, after all."
Molloy waited for some time after the security patrol boat had departed; and then, he smiled, raised his wine glass in mock salute at the distant black speck. "Bastards." With sure movement, he descended into his vessel, almost right down to the waterline in between the two hulls of his catamaran 'lady', and slid a partition aside, revealing the tiny, but hidden chamber that existed within.
A chamber containing a BOLT hole into the watery world below. Molloy touched a toggle, and part of the floor vanished, revealing the bolt hole. He chuckled; he paid a *great* deal to import this technology from off world; which did, of course, have its uses, from time to time."You can come up now!" he bellowed down the hole. "They're long gone."
One after another, three figures ascended the hole from the warm water below, all in wetsuits. Soon enough, the visitors removed their headgear, revealing a blonde-haired man, a raven haired woman, and an older, grey haired man. Molloy smiled broadly, and poked the older man in the chest. "Sorry I had to do that to you and your daughter, Charles, old chap, but history has taught us that it is in the dying days of a dictatorship when desperate acts are committed the most."
Charles Westcastle nodded solemnly, and turned to his daughter and her husband, who were even now drying each other off. Ariana, his precious one, and her husband Michael had been through too much for *this* to faze them. "Indeed that is so, my friend...indeed that is so. But if our contacts are to be believed, *all* of the outer colonies have now fallen to Sheridan's forces, and the last fleet loyal to the President is assembling at Mars, there to make the final stand."
Molloy sighed. "I only regret that a great many young men and women on those ships may have to die in the next twenty-four hours. For as sure as the world itself turns, the reactionary elements will be the first to act; they always have been."
"Hmm...perhaps. And *yet*, as I have told you, Sheridan may have more cards up his sleeve then any of us can possibly believe. For starters, he has the forces of the alien worlds on his side; those forces have been through darkness and fire in his name."
"You do know, Charles, that I still find it hard to believe in this 'Shadow' War business that your son was supposedly involved in. All sounds a bit far fetched, in my opinion."
Charles sighed, and nodded his head. This was an attitude that would be hard to break in the years and decades to come. Clark, in his mania, had shut Earth system away from the galaxy, and for the most part, the apocalyptic events described to him in the few communiques William had sent through the lines in the last year and a half had passed them by. The billions of humans on Earth didn't know how very lucky they had been.
But now, time was finally running out for Clark and his regime. With nothing beyond Earth remaining in his control, the word coming out of Earthdome was that a serious rebellion looked to be in the offing, for *sometime* in the next few days, it seemed likely that Sheridan and his fleet of destroyers would be jumping into Earth's skies. And when that happened.
When that happened, the wave of resentment would twist over into open revolution, and like so many of the other dictators in Earth history, Clark would fall.
Until then, it was just a matter of waiting, enjoying the weather and the sea, and avoiding the occasional jittery security patrol. His daughter caught his gaze, and nodded, her eyes shiny with barely repressed tears and shadowed with worry. He had told her, on one dark, snowy night the previous winter, what her brother had gone to do in the galaxy beyond, in the name of Sheridan, in the name of their half-alien, half human commander, Delenn, and finally, in the name of this "Valen" that William now swore by on a regular basis. Charles sighed; William and Ariana had been seperated for far too long, now.
Charles climbed to the deck, gazed up to the puffy clouds overhead, and nodded grimly. Only a matter of time, now.
* * *
The Fleet; enroute. White Star 4.
"You should try and get some sleep, you know."
William cut off communication to his engineers, behind and below; all was well with his command for now, and he turned, one eyebrow raised, to meet Jennifer's frank gaze beside him, and the amused added bonus of Julia's slight smile, just beyond. It was *still* so strange to see her in full uniform, but the long dark struggle had changed them all, and who knew, as yet, how this all-too critical battle would turn out?
"I can't, and you know why." He got to his feet, and with Jennifer following, moved out into the observation area at the fore end of the bridge. Together, they looked over and down onto the great bulk of the AGAMEMNON, its habitat section revolving less then half a kilometer below them, as the fleet advanced. "As long as the Captain stays alert and awake, so must I. We're both survivors, the Captain and I; we're going to have to see this through to the bitter end before we can rest."
"And what then?" she asked him.
He opened his mouth, and then paused, and thought for a moment. It was, after all, an astonishing question of sorts, for the wars, crises and near death scenarios had been going on for so long now that it was inconceivable to think of what might lay beyond. And trust his mirror soul, she of the serious smile and long reddish-brown hair, to be the one to ask it. "A harder question, I can't imagine."
Above them, Julia nodded. "Precisely. Beyond war and prophecy, lies peace and destiny...and change." Then, a chime sounded, and the young journeywoman Ranger attended to her station for a moment, and then remet his now curious gaze. "A shuttle has just arrived onboard from White Star 66, Sha'vei. It's Val'na Tashann; he wishes to speak to you...*privately*."
"Of course." He moved past Jennifer, grasping her outstretched hand lightly as he walked by. "I'll be back."
* * *
"He's growing his beard back, isn't he?" Julia noted, ever so calmly.
Jennifer nodded ruefully, as she sank into the command chair. "And adding in the fact he's had his hair cut shorter then it's been in months, our Sha'vei is looking *far* too serious for his own good."
* * *
"I trust that Talion is performing his duties well?" William inquired, as he and Tashann walked slowly down the central corridor together.
"Well enough; that young human has come far, and done much in your service, since he joined you on Babylon 5, so many of your months ago. He followed you to Mars willingly, and in that following, beheld a darkness on his homeworld he should not have had to. He accepted it, and moved on; and now, he sits in the place of command in my absence. He is a fine Ranger, William, finer then even *he* understands...and he will go far, in the years to come."
"Of course. But you will forgive me for sidestepping, Tashann; I'm sure you didn't come over here to talk about him?"
Tashann nodded seriously, and laid one finger against the long scar beneath the right hand crest of his headbone. "Indeed, that is so; I have come to you, William, because we have been through so very much together, in the battle against the darkness; so much pain, so much war, so much sadness. I have come to you, because, in part, believe it or do not, sometimes we need reassurances as well, as to whether all we done and all we will yet do...is right."
William nodded. "It's so very hard, isn't it, to accept that all we have done, in Valen's Name, and hers...and *his*, has been the right thing. Dreann died as an Anla'shok proud, Tashann, exactly the way I would want to die; but until she was gone, we did not, and could not, realize how much she meant to us.
But now she *is* gone, and we must act, in her memory, to do what is right. Morgan Clark is the one who caused her death to be, and as such, as Rangers, we must follow Captain Sheridan to the end of the line, and remove him from power."
"An honest answer, and true; I thank you for that."
"As long as I do live, Tashann, you can trust in my honesty."
"Of course; your pursuit of the truth would not allow you to make any other choice. I respected that when first I served with you, and even after all we have done together, in the fight against the Great Enemies, this has never changed; an astonishing quality, for a human."
He smiled. "Perhaps so; but despite all the friends and comrades we've lost, despite all the Shadows and the Vorlons tried to do to us, and despite the very possible truth that Bester may have been responsible for many of my actions due to his... meddling...I have to say that in the end, it's all been worth it!. In the end, we succeeded at what we tried to do, Tashann, and our legacy...perhaps our legacy will last a thousand years, who knows?"
Tashann nodded seriously, but with a slight smile at the corner of his mouth, the Minbari nodded. "Perhaps so; but before that may be, the task ahead remains. I will now take my leave of you, Sha'vei. We will speak again, on the other side of the storm."
* * *
As my Entil'zha commanded, soon enough, it will be time to tell the tale in its entirety. But that time is not yet; for now, I will talk of what I saw, that unbelievable day at the start of November, 2261. The closer we got to Earth, the greater the anticipation; *everyone* knew that this was the battle that counted, the battle that mattered the most, out of all the ones we had fought, in the past three years. The humans among the Anla'shok had come because this was their homeworld, the planet the Darkness had driven them away from. The Earthforce commands beneath Captain Sheridan had come because they could do NO OTHER THING. This was the battle that mattered; the only thing that mattered, anymore.
Either we would win, and carry the day, or lose, and be destroyed. And the second option could *not* be allowed.
For almost three days now, the entire fleet had been riding the path between the rendezvous point and Mars orbit. And now, the time had come to act. I stood at my station, ready for the trial ahead, and watched, with William, Jennifer and the rest of the crew, as White Star Five wheeled away from the fleet, and moved away. What Marcus and Lennier was going to do had never been attempted before. Only a ship of the White Star Fleet could pull it off, and with Michael Garibaldi, Dr. Franklin and Lyta Alexander down on Mars, the means to the end were finally possible to produce.
Marcus brought his White Star out of hyperspace less then half a kilometer above the surface of Mars, and proceeded to take out a good chunk of the ground based forces at the base he was attacking, while at the same time, the Resistance Forces working beneath the woman who called herself 'Number One' were doing the same at all the other Earthforce bases on Mars.
And then, it was time for us to act; time for the Captain to play the hole card he had been hiding up his sleeve all along. Working in tandem with a rebel group within Earthforce, Dr. Franklin had arranged for a group of telepaths that the Captain had captured the previous year, to be transported onto the destroyer fleet waiting in orbit.
And finally, it was our turn to act. And the sky above Mars flared with the glow of our coming.
* * *
Mars orbit; just prior to midnight, 1 November, 2261.
"White Star Prime to White Star tactical squadron." William ordered, rising from his chair, as behind his command, the rest of the squadron formed up. "You heard the Captain...follow us in. And to reiterate, none of you are to target the habitat sections on those destroyers; is that understood?"
A chorus of affirmatives. "Good. Triad's One through Six on our tail, Triads Seven thorugh Twelve on Val'na Tashann's. Your targets are assigned. Fire at will!"
* * *
"We've taken care of the enemy behind us, now there's only the enemy in front of us..."
* * *
Earthdome, Geneva. 1:25 am, Earth Standard Time, November 2nd, 2261.
In the darkness, a man sat, his thoughts in turmoil. All he had wanted, everything he had worked *so* hard to bring about, was crashing down around him. The power had been his; but now, with his enemies about to strike, the power...the power meant nothing anymore. He shut his eyes, and listened to the beating of his heart, lived within the fear that now ruled his life. Everyone had abandoned him, at the end; beyond this room, all was chaos. He could trust no one, not his family, not his ministers, not even...himself?
What was left? He shook his head in exhaustion; even HE didn't have the answer to that question, anymore. What was left?
What was left, with Mars and his last fleet having fallen? How that had happened, he would never know; but the reports had been clear...Sheridan had passed Mars with what appeared to be hundreds of ships, and even as the crews on those damaged, disabled destroyers had tried to regain control of their crippled ships, Sheridan and his gigantic armada had jumped. That had been twenty minutes ago...time was running out.
What was left to him? What could he do?
The man began writing, feverishly...desperately. There was only ONE thing he could do now.
Only one option left open to him.
* * *
EAS NIOBE; 1:43 a.m Earth Standard Time; November 2nd, 2261.
"Are you ready for this?" Alwhin inquired of his captain, even as her helmsman maneuvered the NIOBE away from the AGAMEMNON, in preparation for the jump command they both knew was coming.
"More ready then you'll ever know, Deitrich. It's a been a long road though, hasn't it?"
Alwhin nodded seriously. "Too long. But now it's time to play the final play; move the final move."
Bethany nodded, even as she gripped the armrests of her chair ever more tightly. "This is endgame, Commander, for all of us. Either we win here..."
The alternative was left unsaid; they both knew what would happen if this failed.
And then, it was time, and Alwhin straightened, his gaze once more professional. "AGAMEMNON sends the command, Captain."
"Then activate jump engines, Commander...it's time to *end* this."
* * *
The Caribbean ocean, 1:45 am, Earth Standard Time; the Arrival of the fleet of Liberation.
They weren't alone that night, but in the middle of a darkened ocean, Charles, Alister, Ariana and Michael watched, and waited. Waited with billions of others, on rooftops, on boats, and wherever the sky was clear...they watched, and waited.
Waited for the inevitable to happen.
"They're coming, aren't they?" Ariana whispered to her father, as her husband and her father's friend watched in near silence, their expessions impatient, and yet certain.
Charles nodded. "Yes; but from where?"
"LOOK!" Alister bellowed, pointing his finger skyward, towards the half-phase moon, high in the south. "HERE THEY COME!"
Then, did Charles and his daughter clasp their hands tightly; then did they begin to hope that this madness that had controlled Earth for so long might now be banished. For they *knew* that their son and brother was coming, walking in John Sheridan's footsteps, riding down through one of those twisting flares of light north of the moon. Walking in the path of giants, laid down for him for so long, now.
Ariana smiled, beneath the stars, beneath the flaring jump points, heralding the end of everything they knew...
* * *
To be continued!
* * *
Next time: ENDGAME!
RIMSTALKER: THE RIDERS ON THE STORM; PART 17
"THE FIRES OF TWILIGHT" ACT II OF II
**"We are here."**
- Delenn, responding to Captain John Sheridan's request, during the final battle for Earth, Nov 2nd, 2261.
* * *
EAS NIOBE; 1:46 am, November 2nd, 2261.
So *long* this moment had been coming, that Bethany could not restrain herself from rising to her feet. Alone in space, more then two hundred thousand kilometers below them, and closing. Earth. And so real, so...wonderful, she could not help but smile.
"The AGAMEMNON sends its message, Captain." Alwhin intruded, and she came back to herself, back to the task. "Do you wish to hear it?"
"Affirmative, Commander. Captain Sheridan's been waiting a long time to say this; the least we can do is pay him the courtesy of listening to his words, and understanding the reason we're all here, following him."
"Understood. On speakers."
"*This is Captain John Sheridan. We are here on the behalf of a multi-planetary force that can no longer stand by, and watch one of their greatest allies, falling into darkness, and despair...*"
* * *
White Star Four.
Julia could not help but stand a little straighter, as she heard the force of the Captain's words, as she had before. Both of the senior Rangers she served, her leaders, her teachers, her friends, had come to their feet. Earth. It had been SO long.
"*...We are here, on behalf of the thousands of civilians murdered under orders from the current administration, who have no one else to speak for them. And on behalf of the Earthforce units that have joined us to OPPOSE the tyranny that has darkened Earth, ever since President Santiago was assassinated, three years ago! We are HERE to place President Clark under arrest...to disband Nightwatch, and return the government to the hands of her people!"
"Oh hell..." she whispered, suddenly aware that her board was chiming at her.
"Report." William ordered, from below.
"The Earth defence grid has activated, sir. It's getting a lock on us."
Her commander nodded, his gaze bleak. "Of course, Julia. In the end, it was always going to come down to this."
"*We know that many in the government have wanted to act, but have been intimidated by threats of retaliation against your families; your friends. You are NOT alone any more!...we call upon you to rise up and DO WHAT'S RIGHT; we have drawn their forces away from Earth, and disabled them. The time to act is now!*"
* * *
NIOBE.
"Status?"
"Defence grid's nearly got a lock on us Captain."
"Damn! Stand ready to launch fighters, Commander."
"We're ready *now*."
"*THIS IS NOT THE VOICE OF TREASON. These are YOUR sons, YOUR daughters, whose loyalties have NEVER wavered, whose beliefs in this Alliance have forced us to take extraordinary means.
For JUSTICE. For PEACE. For the FUTURE!...we HAVE COME HOME*."
"Stand ready to act the *moment* he orders us to, Commander!"
"Understood." And then, Alwhin's face sharpened. "Defence grids coming on line, Captain...and firing!"
This was it...*this* was the moment they'd been waiting for!
And then, a moment later: "*Destroyer groups, target local defence platforms; fire at will!*"
Their task had been decided, right from the beginning. Even as Captain Sheridan's destroyer group descended on the platforms over the Americas, a portion of the command, the portion that followed her, almost from the beginning, turned aside to move at speed towards the missiles even now rising towards them, beneath the covering fire laid down by Sheridan's other commands. The ships that had followed her, almost from the start.
It was time. At LAST, it was time.
"This is NIOBE to destroyer group!" she commanded. "All power to main engines, ahead flank speed!"
Even as the gravity of the intense acceleration gripped her into her seat, she cast a gaze at her exec, and he nodded. He understood; they *all* understood. They HAD to get to the platforms over Asia, before they could do any more damage to the Liberation Fleet...and that meant doing the unthinkable.
* * *
It was madness; it was terror, it was righteousness of the most amazing kind imaginable. Captain Sheridan lead us on, the AGAMEMNON acting on his will as a force possessed; Captain Ahab out to kill the white whale. He descended on the platforms, and we descended with them, and farther still. Among the Starfuries we flew, as never before, and never again; we flew, and we fought, and we dodged, as brave men and their craft died around us. We fought, because there was no longer any choice.
And then, there came a pause we could not understand, until we heard the words themselves...
* * *
White Star Four.
William listened, and in the listening, understood.
"*Captain Sheridan, this an emergency transmission; President Clark is dead, he took his own life before we could arrest him; but he left a message on his desk; two words only...SCORCHED EARTH. Captain, I believe he's turned the defence grid towards Earth, we can't override the system here...if you don't stop them, they'll fire in ten minutes!"
"In Valen's Name..." Jennifer whispered, her gaze horrified. "How could he?"
"Because he could." he replied bitterly. "Because he COULD."
"*Captain, the particle beams on those defence platforms can level fourty percent of the planet's surface; you *have* to stop them before they can fire!*"
And then, a moment later..."*Sheridan to Attack Fleet; you heard the Senator; all ships, fire at will.*"
He met her gaze, and as before, their hands came together. One last battle; one last time. "Take us in, Julia." he commanded. "All power to weapons."
"This is for them; for *all* of them."
* * *
In the night skies of eastern Europe, hundreds of millions of people gazed skywards, their thoughts equal parts wonder and fear, as a multitude of bright stars crossed their skies, leaving glowing trails behind them. It was the end of all they knew...even as flares of deathly yellow and red light erupted in the heavens above them, they knew that men and women like them were riding in those flaming stars, riding to stop the last act of a desperate man.
And many of those watchers waited and worried, wondering if any of them would survive the next ten minutes...
* * *
They had gone lower then they should have, but there was no longer any other choice to make. Although the attack fleet had all jumped in on one side of the planet, there was a complete ring of defense platforms all the way around Earth...and this meant that a select few destroyer commands would have to do what was, prior to this battle, considered undoable.
Bethany gritted her teeth, as all around her, her command shivered, and popped, the aching sounds of heat reaching even to the bridge. To her and her commands had been given the task of reaching the far side of Earth to destroy the platforms waiting there...and *that* meant descending almost out of space.
Below them, her homeworld covered half the sky, the sparkle of cities between the darknesses of plains and mountain ranges...and then, the sun sprang into their sky, as the NIOBE and its followers rounded the curve of the planet. One by one, the other destroyers, fighters and the few White Star commands that had followed them broke from their path and rose up towards their targets...but the heartlands of Asia lay below them before she rose her hand shakingly, and the terrible force upon her ceased, as the mighty main drive of her mile-long destroyer fell silent.
Their course had been set, their path clear, right from the beginning...but now the urgency was ultimate. Only a scant number of minutes remained before President Clark's final legacy would be called into play.
"Target!" she called.
"In range...stand by." And then, Alwhin looked up at her, his gaze somehow resigned, as their fighters moved in to attack the two platforms they had been sent to destroy...and even as one of them died,"Missile launch from the last platform, Captain; time to impact...twenty seconds."
"How many?" she whispered, knowing in her heart what the answer would be.
"Too many."
The decision; the fateful decision...so easy to make. "Understood; target remaining platform...and *FIRE*."
* * *
To understand that moment is to understand one of the oldest laws in physics; objects, once set in motion, do not stop until an opposing force is encountered. That final platform over Asia, the third to last to be destroyed that day, launched over forty missiles at my mother's command. The NIOBE and her fighters were the only targets within range, and the brain of the platform understood that fact all too well. It would fulfill it's commands to the last, even as it targeted its particle beam weaponry at the innocent civilians below.
At the same time, my mother commanded all of her forward weapons to fire...and even though those weapons destroyed *some* of the missiles, too many still got through. Even as both fusion laser strikes hit that platform dead on, destroying it, the platform's final retort struck home.
* * *
"All power to engines...give me ramming speed."
* * *
We tried to help him, and William would have given anything to have stopped what happened from happening, to have spared the Captain that final, horrible dive. But from his viewpoint, there was nothing else they could do, and no one else was remotely close enough to do anything to change the matter. Even as the White Star Four rounded the curve of the planet, and we drew close enough to see the long finger of the AGAMEMNON falling towards Earth, we *knew*, in our hearts, that we wouldn't get there in time.
And then, we realized, all at once, that a jump point had formed beyond Captain Sheridan's destroyer...
And remembered, once again, that even the rules could be changed.
* * *
A flare of blinding light, the squeal of death; even as she came back to herself, one cheek on the deck, she knew what had happened, knew it in her heart. And then, Alwhin was there, his uniform ripped, his forehead traced by a vast gash. "Captain...don't move."
"What...why?" She moved, ever so slightly, and then, the pain came home to her...she turned her head, and understood; the pain caused by a six inch long sliver of metal, that had gone...oh Lord!...all the way thorugh her left arm. There was blood; so *much* blood. And then, one of her staff was there, to help her. "The NIOBE, Commander; what of my command?"
Alwhin wiped away the blood on his head, and sighed. "Over two thirds of those missiles hit our drive section, Captain...*all* of the rest hit our fighter bays. The engineers have been trying to get the damage under control; but it doesn't look like they're going to succeed. Captain; I regretfully must request we close the bulkheads, and blow the charges on the drive section. If we don't...all of us *may* die if the reactor goes critical, while it's still attached to the rest of the ship."
Was that a tear on her cheek? Yes, it was. *Her* command; her decision. Doing this would kill her ship...this would the NIOBE's last flight, her last battle. Like so many other destroyers in this pointless conflict. "Do it, Commander; save us, while you still can!"
* * *
From the distance, the end was unmistakable, as the destroyer, spinning slowly, its rear and fore ends torn to shreds by the missile strikes, suddenly sparked, erupted, and came apart into two pieces, one much larger then the other. Slowly, all to slowly, the drive section moved away, even as the habitat section and the ruins of the fighter bay accelerated away on maneuvering thrusters...all the men and women of NIOBE had left.
Then, a slight shudder; and a temporary star dawned in the skies over Asia.
* * *
"We're still alive?" she whispered.
Alwhin nodded, his relief plain, as around them, the crew drew near to one another, below the flickering lights. "We're still alive; and there's better news, Captain. We did it!"
"We did?"
Alwhin nodded again. "It's over. *Finally* over."
* * *
EAS APHRODITE; 1345 hrs.
"That was a damn fool stunt, Bethany!" Iain McRobert declared, as Bethany looked up at her friend and fellow captain from the bed she was laying on. "You could have gotten yourself *killed*!"
She took a quick glance at her well-gauzed arm, and sighed. "I know, Iain...but we had to get that platform, just like Captain Sheridan had to get his. Any means necessary; even if that involved my death to destroy the satellite, we had to do what WE HAD TO DO."
McRobert sighed, and then nodded. "Of course. You do realize, however, that your ship, God bless her metal soul, will, unfortunately, be joining the many others in this war that will be on their way to the scrap heap."
She nodded resignedly. "I knew that, the instant I gave Deitrich the command to blow the drive section, Iain. But if we hadn't..."
McRobert harumphed. "Of course. Regardless of whether or not Captain Sheridan is able to convince the new President that what he did, what we *all* did, was the right thing to do, you're going to have to answer to a board of inquiry on the loss of your destroyer, you know."
"I know. But if Captain Sheridan is able to speak on our behalf, maybe, just maybe, we'll walk away from this, and not into, oh..."
"A firing squad?"
"Not quite what I was thinking of, but yes, that comes close!"
"Well...I suspect that Sheridan will find some way of taking all the blame for this, Bethany; don't ask me HOW, but that's just a feeling I have."
"Doesn't matter, Iain! We *won*...that's all that matters, this day."
At that point, one of McRobert's senior staff drew him aside, and then, the silver bearded captain turned back towards her. "You'll forgive the interruption, but I've just learned there's someone here to see you...I have a feeling that you'll want to be alone, for this one." And with that, McRobert gestured everyone out of the room, even the protesting members of his medical staff.
Which left her alone, to see a tall figure clothed all in black enter a few seconds later, a figure whose dark curls of hair fell, unhindered, into her eyes, not hiding her tears. She smiled. "Julia. My daughter; my *Ranger*. You've no idea how proud I am, to see you like this, on this day. No idea at all."
"*Mother*! For a while, after I heard, I wasn't sure if you were even still alive! Your ship...those missiles tore it apart, far worse then the AGAMEMNON..."
"But I didn't die." she whispered, even as she drew her daughter into her embrace. "And in the end, that's all that matters, isn't it?"
* * *
White Star Four. The late afternoon of November 2nd, 2261.
Almost empty, the bridge was...save for two figures, sitting together, in the viewing area, at the front of their command. One laid her head on the shoulder of the other, and was content. The war was OVER; could it possibly be true? Below the White Star that her husband had commanded across all the light years, flares of light could be seen in the dark atmosphere of the nightside, as fragments of metal from the battle fell down into the air below.
The Great War was *over*; over at last.
"This peace..." William whispered beside her, "Was a peace earned in blood; a peace earned in hope, and the peace earned, was the peace of the sword. We came to this place, because we could do no other thing. Were drawn into this task, by forces vast and mysterious, now gone forever. Not so long ago, Tashann asked me if it was all worth it...to go through so much pain, so much sadness, and for what?"
"Because..." she firmly replied, drawing his face around towards hers, "We all wanted to believe in the hope of a better future, of a tomorrow without shadows, without pain...and this future, was one we helped to create, you and I. We played our part in events that will be remembered for a hundred generations to come, Rimstalker mine, and if only for that reason, I can be content.
But beyond that...beyond that, I love you, William Westcastle, never forget that. Almost from the moment I saw you, I loved you, and that love kept us going through all the war, the betrayals, the sadness. And now...now maybe, we should just enjoy what we've been given.
We've earned it, haven't we?"
William smiled, and bent forward to kiss her.
They said very little after that.
* * *
To be <gasp> concluded!
* * *
Next time: It is the end of one passage, and the beginning of another. It is the end of the Earth Year 2261, and with the creation of the Interstellar Alliance, are the tasks of the Rimstalker, the Observer, and their multitude of companions finished?
Well...
Part of the answer to that question coming next time in "Flight of Angels" the FINAL part of "The Riders on the Storm"!