Megalodon City, Tundra, Standard Year 403 after founding, New Years Eve

  James was back in his office with a steaming cup of coffee by his right hand, trying not to let his exhaustion show through. The snow must have slowed down. The top half of his window remained uncovered. The sun had long since set behind the horizon and the warm golden light that was Titan flickered maniacally as he watched, appearing far larger than any star in the night sky, in spite of its diminutive size. Many said that if Titan had been any closer, it would get captured by Tundra’s gravity and become an oversized moon. Someday, perhaps it still might. His meeting with central command had been grueling but in the end, he had what he needed. Robert Nagar and his father would not have sent him in unless they thought there was a path to victory. And so, Operation Black Dragon had officially begun.

  He looked up as Henry walked in, closing the office door and sitting in the chair across from him. Henry had been at his back during the mission briefing with central command, and the ensuing tension and exhaustion were written clearly across his face, as well. “Operation Black Dragon.” Henry said finally, looking up after a drawn out silence. “A ‘ground operations’ assignment.”

  “Yes.”

  “Funny how we call it, ‘ground operations’.”

  “What else would we call it?”

  “Terrorism?” He paused. “Murder also comes to mind. It will certainly come to Clara’s mind, law enforcement officer that she is, at heart.”

  James leaned back in his chair, pulling his eyes away from the window and focusing on his friend. “Mother calls it ground operations.” He said mildly.

  “The all-time expert.”

  “Yes.”

  “She scares me, James.”

  “The knowledge she’s shared may save lives on this mission.”

  Henry nodded and continued to sit quietly, unsure of what to say next.

  “This mission bothers you.” James spoke into the silence.

  “It does. It bothers me. I understand why it has to be done. I understand why Tom requested us for the job. But it bothers me.”

  James nodded. “I understand, and I hear you. Henry, if you need me to make this a volunteer only team, I will.” He looked back out the window, feeling the exhaustion settle around his shoulders as the silence stretched between them.

  Henry studied him closely. “Are you behind this, James? Truly? Or is this just following orders?”

  James looked back at his friend, letting his eyes meet Henry’s, unflinching. “Sarayans outnumber us still, at best four to one. Uranium and plutonium deposits aside, they hold every advantage. They have the people, the resources, and the means to produce more weapons and ships than we ever could. And sooner or later, they will find their weapons grade nuclear materials. We are winning because their government has permitted themselves to fall prey to corruption and arrogance. And we are living on borrowed time. Because if the Sarayans wake up and decide to take the Tundran threat seriously, they will destroy us. Timing is everything. And I am one hundred percent behind this mission.”

  “No reservations?”

  “None.”

  “Then I’m in.” Henry said simply. “We both know you need me. And Clara, I suppose.” He studied his friend closely, an unfamiliar inkling of a suspicion in the back of his mind, a suspicion against someone he trusted implicitly with his life, without the slightest hesitation. Henry, whose greatest accomplishment in life had been heading up the local drama club. Henry, who could pick up an accent, a mannerism, or a script in a heartbeat, had often wondered why he, of all people, ended up as James Hawk’s second in command. Just how long had James and his father been planning Operation Black Dragon? Not that it mattered, in the end. Henry sighed. “I’m with you, James. We all are.” He said.

  “Go home, Henry. Play with the kids. I need you to be sure.”

  “A lot of details to work through before we go.” Henry said, drumming his fingers on the desk. Yes, they were all uniquely qualified for the mission, him, Clara, and most of all James, son of Samantha Hawk, who had famously spent so many years on Saraya. But none of them were expert operatives. Preparing to pass for Sarayan within a few days was ambitious, verging on foolhardy. If anyone but James was leading the mission, Henry would be looking frantically for a way to bow out. But this was James. And he already had some ideas of what they could do to prepare. One of the many reasons he and James worked well together was the value they both placed on thorough preparation. Most of the work towards a mission objective was complete long before Tundran boots touched enemy ground.

  “Yes. But not tonight. Next year.” James said with a tired smile. “We are days away from Saraya. There will be time once we’re en route.”

  “Happy New Year.” Henry responded softly, getting up to leave. “Ah Clara, good to see you.” He nodded again, on his way out the door.

  “Hey.” Clara quirked an eyebrow at James before sitting down in the chair Henry vacated, under the window. “Everything all right?”

  “New mission objectives came in.” James said, watching Henry’s retreating back. “We’re shipping out at 0400, tomorrow.”

  Clara’s eyes narrowed. “How bad is it?”

  “This one is… different.” James said carefully.

  Clara cocked her head curiously, sensing that something was off. “I dropped everything off for Alanna.”

  “Thank you, I appreciate it. Are you going to the concert? I need to head out now, I promised mother.”

  “The New Years’ Eve Concert? Your father’s favorite?” Clara grinned. “And entirely voluntary for those of us who are invited.”

  James grinned back. “Oh yes, entirely voluntary.”

  “Wouldn’t miss it on pain of death, if you know what I mean.” Clara winked in his general direction before turning to walk out the door.

  “Clara.” James called out.

  “Yeah?”

  “If you’re going to grill Henry about the mission, do it now, and in my office. Full communication blackout on this one.”

  “You got it, Captain.” Clara gave him her best military salute before walking hastily down the hall to catch up with Henry and drag him back.

  ---

  A few hours later, James walked into the Megalodon City concert hall. The Standard New Years Eve concert was the event of the season and both his parents would be in attendance. The concert hall itself sat underneath a glass dome open to the sky. All around, the lights of the city could be seen and in the distance, the glint of ice that was the frozen ocean, gleamed under the light of distant stars. The hall was decorated in white, silver, and grey, with warm orange lights flickering like flames from every surface. The perfect backdrop for Tundran black military uniforms and silver officers’ stripes, so heavily represented among those attending. A heavy curtain of gleaming silver velvet encircled the stage, but the sound of instruments tuned and the muted voices of musicians could be heard over the din of the crowd. James picked up a glass of champagne, not his usual favorite but unexpectedly appealing, and glanced around the crowd.

  She spotted him first, as she often did, her familiar gray eyes as sharp as ever. “James!” Samantha Hawk waved, her slight frame nearly obscured by the crowd.

  “Mother.” James smiled in relief, walking hastily through the crowd until he was locked in a surprisingly tight embrace. “It’s good to see you.”

  “You have been hiding out, my dear! I barely see you and then you’re on your way out again. I’ve missed you.”

  “I’m sorry.” James responded guiltily. “I should have made more time.” She was a stand out, as always. Ignoring the trend of military uniforms, his mother sailed through the crowd in a gown of shimmering gray silk and diamonds, the perfect camouflage against the silvery gray concert hall décor. Her silver-tinged blond hair glowed in the warm, flickering lights. “How have you been?”

  “Worried.” She responded ruthlessly, her arm squeezing his again. “And so is your father, although of course he’ll never say so.”

  James nodded. “I had better go pay my respects, then.” He nodded hello to the two Secret Service agents flanking his mother and glanced around the hall once again. “Which way?”

  “I’ll take you.” She grabbed him firmly by the arm and pulled him towards the northern side of the hall, where their private balcony seats were waiting. The crowd parted for Samantha Hawk, as it always did. She didn’t need a uniform. For those select few in attendance that day, her face would be known.

  James followed until he saw his father in a small, intimate group surrounded by Secret Service agents. “Father.” He nodded slightly, formally. “It is good to see you again.”

  “Hug him.” His mother poked him from behind, hard enough to hurt. “We barely see you!”

  James hesitated but did as he was ordered, surprised to find his father’s embrace at least as bone crushing as his mother’s, if not more.

  “It’s good to see you, James.” Jim Hawk said emphatically. “Congratulations again, on another successful mission completed. You’ve done well.”

  James nodded, somewhat taken aback by the unexpected and most unusual praise. “Thank you, father.” He responded cautiously.

  “Come, join us. I would like your thoughts on your next mission.” Jim Hawk added, lowering his voice.

  James followed his father onto the balcony, waiting for everyone to get situated. The oversized black velvet seats embraced them as the group swiveled towards one another, continuing their conversation in muted voices. “With the support we are receiving, I believe this mission is workable.” James said carefully, aware that certain information was not available, even to those in attendance on the balcony. “We are very fortunate, and all credit to you father, to be so close to achieving our objectives.”

  Jim Hawk nodded, accepting the praise that was his due. They were here, in this hall, a monument of luxury for a people who not so long ago brought in the new year in a single cave, huddled around a fire that was their only means of survival. Outnumbered, outgunned, and laboring under every disadvantage and yet, this new year, for the first time since a human set foot on Tundra, victory and true independence was within their grasp. “They must be convinced.” He said quietly. “Any who have voiced concerns must be convinced.”

  “I have the support I requested and I’m grateful. I will find a way to do the rest.” James responded calmly.

  His father studied him closely, noting the slightly avoidant response. But in the end, he merely nodded. “It’s your command, son. I trust your judgment.” His eyes turned towards the stage. Jim Hawk settled back in his chair, his right hand reaching out for his wife. The concert was beginning.

  As the intermission approached, Samantha Hawk got up from her seat and went over to James, winding her arm through his and pulling him up. “Come. I need to stretch my legs. Walk with me.”

  Nodding to his father, James took his mother’s arm and followed.

  “How have you been? Is everything all right? You’ve been noticeably absent upon your return.”

  This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

  “I’m fine.” James said reassuringly. “There has been some clean up, from the last mission. And then preparations for the next. Busy, but all is well.”

  “I understand. It feels like it never ends, sometimes.” Samantha Hawk looked out at the flickering lights over the concert hall. So much luxury and beauty in this place. If it had been up to her, they would have spent it all on ships. Every last bit of it. “You retire and still it does not end. I sit at home and wait for you to return.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t say these things. It has been a long year, this one. I’m glad you are well. And how is that girl, the one who surrendered? I believe you recommended her for asylum.”

  “I did.”

  “Is that wise? I will be the first to tell you, I would say whatever I needed to say to save my people, or my own life. That does not make it true. And one person, as I have reason to know, can cause a very great deal of damage.”

  “It is wise.” James said shortly.

  “And will it still be wise” Samantha Hawk said carefully “when the results of your next few missions come to pass?”

  James raised an eyebrow. As usual, his father’s security clearance seemed to informally extend to Samantha Hawk. “Yes.” He replied.

  “I see.” She nodded. “It is your recommendation to make, after all. And you’ve more than earned the right to make it. “How’s Clara? And Henry?”

  James smiled. “Clara hates military service.”

  “Truly?”

  “Oh yes. She despises it.” He hesitated. “This next mission – will be difficult on her. Especially for her.”

  “Is she the right person for the mission?”

  James shrugged, ignoring the twinge of concern in the back of his mind. “That will be up to Clara.”

  “And Henry?”

  James shrugged again. “It’s difficult for everyone, mother.”

  “And you?”

  “Probably not as difficult as it should be.” He smiled slightly. “Perhaps I wasn’t raised right.”

  “You were raised to win.”

  “Yes.”

  “Can you imagine it? To go to sleep knowing you will wake up safe in your own bed the next day, the next week, month? Knowing your children…” she swallowed “your children will grow up to do the same.”

  James nodded, his eyes unreadable. “I can imagine it.”

  “Well, you are young. Everyone is born believing it is possible. Me, I don’t know. Do you truly think there is a chance?”

  “I do.”

  Samantha Hawk nodded, her gray eyes dark in the dim light. “As you say.” She responded.

  “Have we heard from Tony lately? I thought he was returning soon.”

  “Any day now. So far, the mission has been going well. We have every reason to believe he will return home safely.” She smiled somewhat wistfully. “I still miss having the two of you over for dinner, with little Clara always tagging along. Ah, here comes your father, to steal you away. Go. Go on. I will find you later.”

  Nodding to the men flanking his father, two admirals and Robert Nagar, James joined the group on their way back for the second act.

  Jim Hawk looked over at his son, his only son and the best captain in the Tundran military. There was no one better suited to lead Operation Black Dragon. And yet, just for a minute, he felt the shadow of doubt. He wished, most sincerely, that Tom Fiel had not asked for his son. The Sarayans were sleepwalking towards a monumental shift in power across the solar system. A loss of epic proportions. And Jim Hawk was doing everything in his power to ensure they continued walking down that path. But how long would he be able to maintain control, he wondered. How long until they woke up, or simply got lucky? Jim shrugged, trying to shake off the old fear. He did not want his son going on this mission. But there was little choice. Objectively, Captain James Hawk was the right man for the job. “A beautiful concert so far.” He said out loud. “I thought the musicians played especially well.” The others nodded, agreeing with him, as they so often did.

  As the last notes of the second act faded into silence, James got up from his seat, kissing his mother on the cheek and reaching out to clasp his father’s hand. “A wonderful concert.” He said with a smile. “Thank you both again for the invitation. I must head out but we will see each other soon, once I get back.”

  His mother nodded, spinning her chair to watch his back as he walked out.

  “That’s it?” Jim Hawk frowned, not bothering to hide his annoyance. “He couldn’t even spend the remaining few hours with his parents?”

  “Jim.” Samantha said warningly. “James has his own life. He does enough.”

  “And what is so very urgent, I’d like to know.” Jim Hawk muttered, ostensibly under his breath but audible to all. Unnoticed behind his wife’s back, Jim Hawk caught Robert Nagar’s eye and raised an eyebrow slightly, in inquiry. Robert gave a nearly imperceptible nod in return. Satisfied, Jim Hawk got up, holding out his arm to his wife. A Secret Service agent walked up, noting that they were ready to leave.

  “Mr. President, your car is ready.”

  ---

  It was late and James was obviously not coming. On her third cup of tea and having developed an appreciation for ration bars with peanut butter, Alanna was nearing the end of about two hundred years of Tundran history and the light in her cell had dimmed to its lowest levels. It was fully nighttime now, and she wasn’t sure how much longer the battery on her computer was going to last. The Sarayan attacks and vibrio angerona poisonings had now been covered, in their own time. The Sarayans were still the bad guys. The Tundrans, still the freedom loving underdog battling for their right to self determination on a cold, harsh world they managed to claim as their own. Alanna yawned, trying not to roll her eyes. Dev’s decision to short her on ration bars had the desired effect. She fed the puppy another half a bar but admittedly, she had been more cautious once her supply had been cut. The puppy had wandered off to what were likely greener pastures. Alanna guessed that would be the break room, where ration bar supplies were allegedly unlimited.

  She was starting to think about settling in for the night when she heard, once again, the sound of wheels rolling along the hard concrete floors. Large, heavy duty wheels. Puzzled, Alanna walked up to the bars to glance out. To her surprise, she noticed the faces of other prisoners looking down the hallway as well. She looked across the hall into the eyes of her fellow Sarayans. They looked back, the ‘not real people’ Dev had mentioned a few days earlier. Hollow cheeked and pale, their eyes were focused not on her but on the sound of wheels coming down the hallway. Alanna could see it now, a metal gurney on heavy duty wheels, being pushed by a dark skinned guard she didn’t know. As she watched, the guard stopped in front of a door. She hadn’t looked last night but based on the location, she rather thought that was the door through which she heard screams the night before. The guard paused, stepping away from the gurney to unlock the door of the cell, the sound of the lock tumbler falling echoing down the hall. No direction to stand back was forthcoming, only the cold sound of a metal door opening.

  As the guard entered the cell, an odd noise echoed across the hall. At first, she thought the other prisoners were shouting or chanting but finally, she managed to make out the words that were streaming across the hall, from all directions.

  Amazing grace. How sweet the sound

  That saved a wretch like me.

  I once was lost, but now am found;

  Was blind, but now I see.

  It devolved then, into humming with a few mumbled words here and there. Alanna blinked. They didn’t know the words, she realized. Amazing Grace was the traditional song for funerals on Saraya but when it came down to it, few people knew all the words. But she knew the words. Alanna closed her eyes. She knew all the words. After all, this wasn’t her first funeral. She watched as the guard loaded the body and waited for the prisoners to finish, not wanting to interrupt, before stepping up to the barred window and taking a breath.

  Amazing grace. How sweet the sound

  That saved a wretch like me.

  I once was lost, but now am found;

  Was blind, but now I see.

  ’Twas grace that taught my heart to fear,

  And grace my fears relieved;

  Alanna stopped singing, watching warily as the guard walked across the hall and stopped in front of her door. “Really?” He asked.

  “Let her finish!” A shout came from farther up the hall. “He’s already dead, let her finish!”

  Alanna took a slight step away from the door, taken aback by the din and fury of the response. The guard continued looking at her, arms crossed. “Now maybe that’s what Captain Hawk calls good faith cooperation. Not sure what the rest of us call it.”

  “Human decency?” Alanna suggested mildly.

  The guard considered her glumly. “Name’s Phil.” He said finally. “You’re Alanna, I take it.”

  “Guilty.”

  “Well put, lieutenant. Shut UP. Everyone just shut the hell UP.” He turned back to her as the din quieted somewhat. “Fine. Finish.”

  Alanna crossed her arms. “I have to start from the beginning now. I’ve lost my place.”

  “Fine.” He leaned against the wall next to the door, waiting.

  With a nod, she stepped up to the door and began again.

  Amazing grace. How sweet the sound

  That saved a wretch like me.

  I once was lost, but now am found;

  Was blind, but now I see.

  ’Twas grace that taught my heart to fear,

  And grace my fears relieved;

  How precious did that grace appear

  The hour I first believed.

  From her place by the door, she saw him coming down the hallway, black uniform with the silver captain’s stripes on his sleeves. That was unfortunate. But it was too late by then. And there had been too many interruptions. A man was dead, and those who mourned him deserved an ending. Taking a breath, she continued.

  Through many dangers, toils, and snares,

  I have already come;

  ’Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far,

  And grace will lead me home.

  The Lord has promised good to me,

  His Word my hope secures;

  He will my Shield and Portion be,

  As long as life endures.

  When we’ve been there ten thousand years,

  Bright shining as the sun,

  We’ve no less days to sing God’s praise

  Than when we’d first begun.

  James stood in front of her cell now, his face unreadable.

  “She’s all yours Cap’n.” Phil the guard made a bow, finishing with a flourish and pulling a set of keys out of his pocket.

  The guards in this prison really did have an odd theatrical flair, Alanna thought irrelevantly. Had to wonder what the warden was looking for in his employees. She watched Phil wheel the dead body down the hall before reluctantly raising her gaze to meet James Hawk’s unreadable grey eyes.

  “Hi.” She said cleverly.

  “Hi. You can sing.”

  “Everyone can sing.”

  “Not like that.”

  She shrugged, somewhat sheepishly. “I have an unfair advantage. I know all the words.”

  James nodded, reaching out to unlock the door.

  At least he didn’t ask her to stand back, Alanna thought. She took a step back anyway, and waited uncertainly in the back of the cell, suddenly unsure of his reaction. He didn’t come to her or take her in his arms, the way he had the previous night. James stood just inside the cell, almost seeming as uncertain as she was. Which was impossible. She had only known him a short time, but she was quite sure that James Hawk was never uncertain.

  After a brief pause, he sat on one of the concrete benches, his head falling back against the wall.

  Alanna sat on the other bench. There wasn’t enough room on the bench for two people, anyway. They stared at each other across the tiny cell, listening to the fading sound of wheels rattling against the floor. “You look tired.” Alanna said quietly.

  “Happy New Year.” James responded.

  “Is it? Happy New Year, James.” She said, studying him. Something was wrong. “Are there fireworks?” She asked, for lack of anything better to say. “We always have fireworks.”

  “They.” James said quietly.

  Alanna blinked. They. Sarayans. They stared at each other across the cell. “You’re leaving?” She asked finally, into the silence.

  “I am. Tomorrow. Early tomorrow. In just a few hours, really.”

  “Is it…” She hesitated. “Is it bad?”

  James shrugged. “Hard to say.”

  “I’m sorry if I made your evening more difficult.” She looked into his eyes, trying to understand. “Is there anything I can do?”

  James studied her closely in the dim light of the cell. “I don’t know what this is to you.” He said quietly. “There’s no way for me to know.”

  Alanna flinched.

  “I’m sorry.” James said immediately, seeing the look on her face. “I’m sorry, Alanna. I shouldn’t have said it. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

  “If you believe it, why not say it?”

  “I don’t know what I believe. I just wanted you to be with me, even if... even if it wasn't for the right reasons. I am, as you say, very tired.”

  “It was too late for you to come. You should get some sleep.”

  James nodded in agreement and continued to sit, staring at her across the cell. The silence stretched between them. “I changed my mind.” He said suddenly.

  “About what?”

  “About the mission objective. I’ve changed my mind. Forget asylum. Only one objective.”

  Alanna cocked her head. “Stay alive?”

  “Yes. Just that. Nothing else.”

  “You don’t think I’ll get asylum?”

  “If it doesn’t work out, I can fix it. When I get back, I can fix anything but that. Stay alive. Whatever it takes. Death can’t be fixed.”

  “You’re that worried?” Over the past few days Alanna had, against her better instincts, become relatively accustomed to prison life. She was no longer freezing, she knew most of the guards, at least by sight, and none had bothered her since the first night.

  “I want to know you’ll be here when I get back. I want to be sure. The rest will work itself out. I’m not saying sabotage the asylum interview. But there is only one primary objective. I think…” he paused. “I think you and I could do this. Not many other people could. But you and I are not other people. We can. If we wanted to.” He paused. “If you wanted to.” He closed his eyes then, realizing he was talking too much and barely making sense. “Damn. I really am tired.”

  “You’ll have time to sleep?” Alanna asked, looking worried.

  “Do you want me to? Who will you be rooting for this time around, Alanna?”

  “You.” She said without hesitation.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I am.”

  “Hmm.” James looked at her across the tiny cell, nearly close enough to touch. But he didn’t. “Why did you do it?” He asked suddenly.

  “Do what?”

  “Surrender.”

  “James.” Alanna frowned, looking more worried than before. “You know why.”

  “Yes, but why? Why was it more important than your oath? And your oath was important. We both know that. Why was it more important than Saraya?”

  “Protect your own. Everything else comes second.”

  “Protect your own.” James repeated. “What is that? Did someone say that?”

  “I said it.”

  “Good enough.”

  “It’s the Summers oath.”

  “The Summers… like orphans?”

  “Yes.” Alanna smiled suddenly, an old memory resurfacing. “And it’s a blood oath. We pricked our fingers to make sure it was a real oath. That’s dangerous as hell, on Saraya. We were idiots.” But still she smiled, thinking back.

  “Did you ever break that one?”

  “Could have done better a time or two.”

  “When the Black Hawk came, you had to break one oath or the other.”

  She shrugged. “There were no good choices. Not for a while, by then.”

  “Sometimes, there are no good choices.” James said, his voice tired.

  Alanna blinked, surprised to hear those words from James. “You always seem so sure.”

  “I am sure.”

  “The best of the bad choices?” Alanna asked with a small smile.

  “Exactly.”

  Hesitantly, Alanna got up from the bench, coming to stand in front of him. James looked up at her, hands still at his sides. But he was there, he had bothered to come. Alanna put her hands on his shoulders. “I want to be with you. Before you leave.” His hands reached out, pulling her down onto the bed before she had time to breathe. When James wanted to, he could move terrifyingly fast.

  “Damn stupid clothes.” He muttered, pulling her sweater and the thin undershirt up over her head. “I like it better when you’re just wearing my sweater.” He slowed down once her clothes were off, pulling the blanket over both of them to keep her warm and letting his hands wander across her body, patiently, until he felt her melting against him, her fingers digging into his shoulders with urgency. “Shhh. We have time. We have nothing but time.” He was going to go slowly this time. To make it count. If it came down to a choice, James Hawk was going to make damn sure Alanna had every possible reason to choose him.