A Short Story "Christmas Right Between the Eyes"

[CaptainGold]

Christmas Right Between the Eyes
By Captain Gold

Years ago I posted two stories for writing challenges, and got a few good reviews. Eventually I started writing in my own universe and have completed several stories.

However, I have not had anything evaluated by anyone, so I wrote a Christmas story in the universe of the Federation/Star Trek, but with non-canon characters. I’d like to think my writing has greatly improved over the years.

When I was on TrekBBS years ago I saw several Christmas stories posted that were not part of a contest, I hope it is still okay to post a story like this.There is a long introduction and listing of names and terms since this story is part of a series of stories. It is a rather long story, and there is a lot of backstory involved here. I hope the introduction helps.

I hope you enjoy the thread, please give me any comments or evaluation of this work. I greatly look forward to comments and suggestions. Compliments are great too!



Captain Gold

 

[CaptainGold]

Christmas Right Between the Eyes, Introduction:

Admiral Mack King is a young general officer in Starfleet service with a successful but controversial career, including losing his homeworld and family. His ship discovered the Matezan Compact, a massive find that reverberated through the Federation. He happened to be assigned back to ‘Manty’ space after a brutal, unlimited war against the Federation by a group called Octeric that it barely won with Matzean help. He commands a small fleet unit designated as Nineteenth Fleet from a small base designated Starbase Two Twenty-one, located in the Manty home system, that holds two Class M worlds, Manteza and Rietel.

The starbase, located a year from Federation territory at a normal cruising speed, has an overworked, short-staffed crew facing many hardships for different reasons, and a fleet that has won battles in local space in spite of its size and composition. One ship is still undergoing repairs after its latest fight.


Characters and Terms



Admiral Batizy: Previous commander of Nineteenth Fleet.
Admiral Marshall: Current CIC, Starfleet Command.
Admiral McCleland: Senior Starfleet admiral.
Briktile: An animal on Manteza, also a word used to label someone as stupid.
Captain Joshua Yoder: Chief Engineering Officer, Nineteenth Fleet.
Captain Stephen Nasher, XO of the Starfleet marine unit in the Compact.
Cavine: Name of the Matezan version of Starfleet
Chibit: A term that roughly means ‘SOB’ in the Matezan language.
Colonel Fullbright: CO of the Starfleet marine unit in the Compact.
Commander Athena Jolliet: Nineteenth Fleet chief JAG officer.
Commander Bellet St. Clair: Chief assistant Nineteenth Fleet Engineering officer,
Commander Chortler: Fleet Science Division commander.
Commander Paddy Fitzommans: Starbase Two Twenty-one’s Operations Division commander.
Commander Pat LoDonna: Mack’s Adjutant.
Commander Rikkey Halderman: Assistant starbase Operations Division commander.
Ellise/Mocasson: Nineteenth Fleet ships, one severely damaged in combat.
Facepainter: A Manty term for a politician who is lying, also used as a derogatory term for any politician.
Feddies: Slang term for beings from the Federation, with other less-flattering meanings.
Fleet Captain Frank Delpino; The temporary second in command of Nineteenth Fleet. Promoted when Admiral King took command.
Hearthome; A major holiday in the Compact, much like Christmas, but different.
Lady Admiral Doleture Forlaree: A senior fleet commander in the Cavine, and something more.
Lieutenant Muskina: A former combat shuttle pilot assigned to Nineteenth Fleet after losing a leg in the Octeric War.
Lord Beavermon: Fleet commander in the Cavine.
Lord Bishop: Third (Assistant) Commander Matezan Cavine.
Lord Dyson: Commander ‘First Lord’ of the Matezan Cavine.
Lord Harkenony: Advisor to Queen Charlotte and first Manty ambassador to the Federation.
Lord Nodden: Queen Charlotte’s personal assistant.
Manty: Federation slang for anyone from Matezan space.
Motos: The Matezan name of the ‘king of evil’.
Octeric: A mysterious life form that invaded the Federation and almost destroyed it. The war changed when the Compact supported the Federation with a large fleet.
Octerica: A section of local space close to Mantezan Compact space claimed by the Federation after combat there, filled with raw materials Nineteenth Fleet can use if they can exploit it.
Orisen: Matezan term for local police.
People Resources: A shorthand name for a ruthless criminal gang that took over worlds and grew into a government before being destroyed.
Polof: A member of the hated secret police of the Doloist state. Polofs killed millions of Matezans in war.
President Quixon: Current President of the Federation..
Prime Minister Newmeister: Nominal leader of the Matezan planetary government, who hates the Federation presence in Manty space.
Queen Charlotte: Titular head of the Manty government, a loose alliance of independent system governments that band together when threatened. She handles military affairs and relationships with other governments for the worlds of the Compact. She considers Mack a close friend.
Commander Rannay Tobalas: Fleet and station chief medical officer.
Rietel Senior President Williton: Head of the government of Rietel.
Rini Methai: A large religious building in the capital city of Manteza simply named ‘Central City’.
Tottoff: A Manty term for an assistant to a political leader.
Visen: A place where the accused would sit during a criminal prosecution in the Compact
Yinneria: A system Mack’s ship discovered.

 

[CaptainGold]

I.

Nineteenth Fleet commander Admiral Mack King sat in his office looking at a vid cam with a real smile on his face. It felt good to have one while speaking to his superiors.

“In conclusion Admiral Marshall, in my command judgment Nineteenth Fleet and Starbase Two Twenty-one are effectively fulfilling our assigned mission objectives with our Matezan allies. Both fleet and station hardware are in excellent condition, morale among station personnel and ship crews is excellent. Fitness reports across the board are above standard for a command of this size and mission. I believe that my strongest asset here are the beings serving under my command. I am privileged to serve with them here. King commanding Nineteenth Fleet, out.”

His adjutant, Commander Pat LoDonna, noticed it. “I like your smile sir, even if you hate these weekly updates. It’s ready to go.”

“’Peace is a warrior’s best friend’ Pat. I never forget that Siliesian saying. We are fortunate to have it.” He took a moment to order his chief com officer, Commander Taveras, to encode and send it off to Command.

“You were laying it on thick sir. Do you really think we are that good?”

“I grew up on a farm so I know how to shovel manure. I’m not shoveling now. Negative thinking is one hundred percent effective, and once we flushed most of the bad attitudes out of this station things changed. We still have a lot of work to do but I’d take this fleet into battle against anyone. Now it’s time for more good news.”

Tuesday mornings were not his favorite time of the week. After sending his weekly report that would take four to five days to make it the Federation, he had to officiate the weekly senior staff meeting. His overworked staff filled with strong personalities made meetings quite interesting, with occasional open combat over the fleet and station he had to squash.

However, today looked to be good. His temporary chief-of-staff, Fleet Captain Frank Delpino, wasn’t around to irritate everyone. He commanded a twelve-ship battlegroup patrolling the Doloist/Compact border, with specific orders to show the flag to the colony worlds they were protecting. Delpino wasn’t equipped for the role of goodwill ambassador, but once he discovered these people were willing to base their opinions of Feddies on what they saw and not what certain groups on Manteza told them he had an attitude adjustment.

Mack and LoDonna walked in the main briefing room at exactly one thousand hours. Still with a smile he said “Good morning, don’t ruin my day. Let’s have it.”



Fleet Engineering commander Captain Joshua Yoder led off with with a report on Ellise’s first trip outside the Matezan Defense Perimeter, an all-up systems test to stress the semi-repaired ship, especially the rebuilt Bridge module. His first words were “Everything passed with flying colors.” At least half the staff shook their heads, with one groan for emphasis. Most bases would write off the severely damaged hulk, Yoder and his staff refused to do that.

Science Division Commander Chortler offered another long presentation on the Octeric System which he started calling ‘Octerica’, greatly irritating his commander. Mack realized the name would stick no matter what he did so he gritted his teeth and listened.

Commander Jolliet’s JAG report began with the next Mast, scheduled in two weeks. The real news brought smiles to everyone: The Queen’s government informed her there were no objections from any local star system government to Octerica becoming Federation territory. She snidely pointed out that Nineteenth Fleet conquered unclaimed space and according to Federation law had to begin a survey for potential colony worlds, even if Octerica would be over a year of travel at high speed from the Federation.


“Congratulations Admiral, you are the first Starfleet officer to take territory by military conquest in sixty-seven years and four months. Can we call you ‘Mack the Conqueror’ now sir?”

“Only when I’m not around, but do not forget it” he replied.

One by one the other reports were read and discussed. Captain Nasher, the Marine detachment executive officer, reported that certain groups were ‘looking to cause trouble when Feddies land on the planet.’ Commander Fitzommans had a two sentence Operations Division report and handed Mack three disks of material to review. Commander LoDonna had a shorter personnel report, and CMO Rannay Tobalas had a marvelous fleet medical report. The base hospital had no patients for the first time in ten months, with the staff doing research or working with two dozen out-patient cases.

Finally, Commander Rikkey Halderman reported on fleet and station morale. The brilliant Operations senior assistant that made the base livable noted that there would be no new recreation venues built or events planned so Operations and Engineering could concentrate on other matters. When Halderman finished the first argument of the day began, started by none other than the irritated Commander Jolliet.

“Admiral King, Commander Halderman is wrong. It’s almost Christmas on Earth and we need to celebrate it here. You talked about doing it months ago.”

“But there is almost nobody on the station but staff and few Ellise crew members. We have a lot of issues to deal with. Can’t it wait until we have more people on board?” Halderman immediately replied.

“No Rikkey, absolutely not! I know every planet seems to celebrate Christmas at a different time but we have never celebrated the holiday out here and its time to do it. We might have peace now, but what happens when the next war starts here in six months? We will find another excuse not to do it later if we don’t do it now.”

“When is Christmas on Earth Athena?” Mack asked.

“Three weeks from tomorrow sir, plenty of time to decorate, plan a party and set a release schedule.”

He could see Halderman, Fitzommans, Nasher, and Yoder all shaking their heads no, and he understood why. The first scheduled station power system inspection less than a month away loomed like a dark cloud over the base. It would take two weeks to prepare for the inspection, four days to complete it, and then nobody knew how long repairs or refurbishment would take. Engineering staff had been working on contingency plans if the station could not hold any ships. Paddy Fitzommans had warned Mack a complete evacuation of the station could happen.

However, none of that mattered to Athena, or to Mack’s stubborn adjutant, who joined in the discussion.

“Admiral, I agree with Commander Jolliet. There is something more important than a power plant inspection we can delay. Celebrating Christmas in three weeks is perfect for it.”

“Seriously Commander LoDonna?” the angry voice of assistant chief engineer Bellet St. Clair snapped. “You have no idea what you are asking. Do you really want to have a full load of ships here when we crack the powerplant? What will we do with ships needing loading and repairs and crews needing rest?”

“It’s Christmas Commander St. Clair, the inspection can wait a few more weeks!” Jolliet snapped back. Before St. Clair, who was responsible for planning and running the test, exploded LoDonna changed the discussion.

“Admiral, I recently had contact with an organization called the Queen’s Veterans Fund. They insisted on talking to you but I took a message instead. The person I talked to seemed to think that you know about it.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about Pat, I’ve never heard of the Queen’s Veterans Fund. Is it some kind of charity?”

“Yes it is. I researched the group before the meeting and talked with the Queen’s Seal Lord Knodden about it. Queen Charlotte personally chartered the group. The Lady Admiral Forlaree was involved and is still listed as a contributor.”

“Why should she matter?” Captain Nasher asked.

“Because I knew her Stephen” Mack replied. “When Indefatigable was out here we were assigned to her command. She is the best general officer I ever served under. If she participated in the fund it’s a legitimate organization. I am surprised they haven’t updated their donor list.” He didn’t need to hear this, now he would spend all night remembering carrying her lifeless body from the torture room on the Doloist prison planet.

LoDonna had more for them. “The fund’s projects include assisting children who lost a parent or parents serving in the Cavine. They try to make life easier for them and the families who care for them. The fund’s executors wondered if we could do something for some of the children they serve. I say it’s a perfect way for us to celebrate Christmas.”

Nasher couldn’t believe his ears. “You actually want to bring God knows how many thousands of children on a military space station? We are not set up for hosting civilians. The security issues alone will take weeks to solve, if we can solve them.”

Whether she knew it or not, LoDonna had unintentionally used the magic word, children. Mack believed that anyone who suffered because of the Octeric needed special care, and if they were children the discussion ended. Orders would be cut no matter what everyone else thought about it.

Halderman responded “But we have hosted Matezan civilians here recently Captain. If we can handle music groups, speakers, scholars, and some of the worst comedians in the universe we can handle some kids. But it’s not going to be easy to do Commander LoDonna; we have to keep them busy and isolated from the station working areas, especially if there is an emergency. We need many volunteers from the base staff, and the Veterans Fund has to bring volunteers with them. Operations will have to make extra food, costumes, decorations, and who knows what else? That’s a big problem.”

“That’s a problem? It’s Christmas and these kids are orphans. We will get anything done that’s needed done” Paddy Fitzommans indignantly replied, meaning he had switched sides in the argument too.

“You are overthinking it Rikkey” Jolliet added. “It’s Christmas, at least two-thirds of the personnel on station celebrate it in one form or another, and once we explain why we are doing this there will be more volunteers than we can use. It’s part of the season to share the joy with others and these children need it.”

“We need it more than them, the inspection can wait a few weeks” Joshua Yoder added. That surprised everyone else in the room, even he had changed his mind about it.

“Not according to regulations sir, they are pretty specific for the new model units we run.” Commander St. Clair had a point, Mack had read the requirements.

“I was personally involved with the design and installation of the power systems. How many times have we run all systems at one hundred percent for more than two weeks since the station opened?” That question carried a lot of weight. First, loads on the station’s power systems were much less than expected, meaning the system did not have the wear and tear other stations put on the hardware. Second, that response wasn’t like the extremely conservative engineer at all.


“I see your point sir, but ignoring inspections on power equipment? It is never a good idea” St Clair warned.

“We are not a social welfare agency Captain Yoder” Nasher interrupted. “I understand why you want to do this sirs, and I sympathize with the kids, but it just can’t be done here. This station is not ready for civilian access, period. We might be getting scammed here, a group the admiral knows nothing about? He has enough trouble with the locals as it is. Do you have any idea what has happened to his reputation recently?”

“No I don’t Stephen, and since the subject is me, I’m curious. What are you talking about?”

“We’ve had problems since the planetary government let us back down there. Several leave parties were abused by groups of civilians trying to start confrontations. One of your cases at the next Mast is an assault charge against a station crewman who got Manty Stout poured over him at a partyhouse after some Manty civilians targeted him. It started with words, he got spat on, then the beer shower came. A couple Cavine members and civilians joined in with our crewman and it ended up being more than a local bar fight. It made newsfeeds the next morning.

“The media on that planet is vicious. You are the target of at least four large exposes from media outlets claiming you slept around with at least a dozen female Cavine officers during your postings here. Another claims you killed four innocent bystanders in a church and has Orisen documents to prove it. There are people who hate your guts and think you’re a human version of an Octeric. These Manties are likely another group trying to get dirt on you.”

“Nice job Captain Nasher, you just disqualified him from hearing that case at the next Mast” the JAG chief hissed.

“Did our crewman win the fight Stephen?” Mack asked.

“In my opinion yes, but does that matter?”

“Yes, I expect Nineteenth Fleet personnel will never lose a fight. But please do not tell anyone in the JAG office I said that.” A few people snickered and Nasher smiled, their commander kept to his reputation. However, the Marine had done much more than inconveniencing the JAG office.

The accusations made him boiling mad. The half-truth of the attack at Rini Methai years ago was worse than a lie. The crime bosses who let out the contract for the hit were executed after he left for the Octeric War, and they deserved it.

Obviously his little talk with the Prime Minister’s tottoff was nothing more than a ruse to get him to say something they could use against him in the media, and when it failed he started using the old-fashioned political smear to try and ruin him and Nineteenth Fleet’s reputation.

The political became personal now, and shortly the briktile Prime Minister would discover the Feddie wouldn’t play by his rules. However, at the moment there were children being discussed, more important people than a facepainter. Both sides had made their case and the staff were all looking at him, waiting for a decision.

“I like the discussion; we will get this done. Pat and Athena, I want to see your plans at least a week before Christmas so Colonel Fullbright can approve it. If we can’t assure the kids are safe here we aren’t doing it. If there is no other business, thank you and please return to your duties.”

As he expected, an hour later completed plans for the event showed up on his deck terminal.

 

[CaptainGold]

II.


Three days later after a spirited workout in the station’s wrestling room Captain Nasher told Mack Colonel Fullbright approved the plans and promised not to be on the station to complain when when everything fell apart. Mack knew a good thing when he heard it and decided he wouldn’t be on the station that day either.

As usual, news traveled fast along the Nineteenth Fleet unofficial grapevine. When the word went out ship crews started planning their own celebrations. Volunteers from every division on the base got busy, using off-duty time to make and hang decorations, preparing activities, helping the Operations staff preparing meals, or even volunteering for extra duty to free others to take care of the visitors.

As if they didn’t have enough to do Athena Jolliet and Pat LoDonna did all the organizing themselves. Pat handled the Veterans Fund, negotiated the number of visitors, set ground rules for them, found out the foods the children could eat, and kept their commander from having anything to do with it. Athena coordinated the base volunteers and made sure the details were cared for, especially the security and medical details. Mack realized what they were doing and delayed the Mast for Jolliet and the JAG office until after the party, freeing her staff to help LoDonna and her out.

Staff members dropped hints they wanted their commander involved. Mack smiled and ignored the pleas. Instead, he scheduled an inspection trip on Mocasson when the kids were visiting. Hopefully the trip would bring him some peace from the memories.

All too quickly the great day arrived; the station crew primed and ready for the children and their commander with a packed travel case ready to leave. But Starbase Two Twenty-one’s version of Ebenezer Scrooge couldn’t completely stay away from the excitement. After dismissing his escort, Marine Sergeant Wassell, to join the merriment, he made an inspection tour of the Atrium to inspect the decorations.


That was his first mistake of the day. He took one step off the lift and his eyes filled with tears. The Atrium looked much like his childhood home did on Christmas Eve, covered in lights and greenery, with dozens of crew members running around completing last-minute details. The smell of hot chocolate, treats, and some kind of fruit cider permeated the space. He hadn’t seen anything like this on a starbase; the staff had done it right. If things worked out, some very important children who desperately needed a good time would experience a new culture for the first time. A view of the Atrium would be a good start and hopefully the staff would have a good time too.

He passed out compliments and heard ‘Merry Christmas sir!’ too many times before he headed to the Shuttle Bay. The pressure doors were unlocked when he arrived, meaning his ride should be ready. But when the doors opened the shuttle was nowhere to be found.

“Hey Chief Crane, where’s Le Bourget?”

The chief of the deck took off his ear protection and made a call. By the time it finished Mack had joined him. “Sorry sir, bay control reports he’s due anytime, Lieutenant Muskina has had a hard ride today. It seems the Manties built in a fifteen-minute access delay for our shuttles recently and he is raw about it. Merry Christmas Admiral!”

“Same to you Chief, enjoy the day. I’ll be outside.” Mack walked off the bay to speed the process of leaving. This was an important trip; Mocasson wasn’t stopping at the base so he ordered up a SAR operation drill. After the rendezvous he would get on board and get busy. The drill wouldn’t happen if Muskina didn’t show up soon.

‘Anytime’ became ten minutes, then fifteen, and Mack’s blood pressure rose by the second. When the shuttle was half an hour late he called the station command center. “Commander LoDonna, where is Lieutenant Muskina?”

“He just called in; he is delayed on the surface Admiral. He will be here shortly.”

“Tell him to hustle Pat. King out.” With nothing better to do he walked to the wardroom, grabbed a cup of coffee and got more irritated. Fifteen more minutes later an irritated Larry Muskina stood in front of his very irritated commander.

“Why are you forty-five minutes late Lieutenant? We have to load and go now.”

“Inspection sir.”

“Inspection?”

“Yeah, a surprise inspection of all small ships entering the Government House zone, done by the Central City Orisen sir. They were doing engine checks.”

“Bullfort Larry, are you serious?”

“Quite serious sir. I have three reports from the briktile idiots doing the inspections if you want to see them. The engines are fine and the inspectors have no idea what they are looking at. They even inspected Cavine shuttles, no exceptions. The traffic’s been backed up for hours and there are many angry pilots down there. I am damn sure it wasn’t the Queen who ordered the inspections, if you know what I mean.”

“I know exactly who you are talking about, and I would just assume shoot him as look at him. Bureaucrats are the same everywhere Larry, tool of the supposed elite who make life miserable for people who do the real work. Let’s go.”

Just as he picked up his case LoDonna’s voice sounded throughout the station. “Attention All Hands! Queen’s Veterans Fund visitors arriving on the Shuttle Bay. All guides to the bay doors, security to stations, volunteers to program areas. Command Center out.”

Mack looked at Muskina, who looked back and shrugged his shoulders. By the time the kids were on the station Mocasson would be long gone. “Larry, tell Commander LoDonna to contact Mocasson and cancel then find something to do. Merry Christmas.”

“That won’t be hard, I have gifts to wrap and some good local wine to drink. Merry Christmas to you sir.” The one-legged pilot disappeared faster than a running photon torpedo in a battle in case the boss changed his mind.

Mack had no problem finding something to do; he had stacks of work waiting on his desk. But it wouldn’t help get his mind off the holiday.

Christmas was his favorite holiday growing up, and the first Christmas after Ravenna IV died he locked himself in his Academy quarters and grieved the entire day. The next Christmas never existed thanks to Senior Chief Walker, the ruthless lead non-com at the Academy, who assigned him a full day of punishment duty he rightly deserved. Chief Walker hardening process worked well; being on starship duty made it easy to ignore holiday celebrations. As long as he kept to himself he could escape into a bubble of ignorance. Less than a minute later there was no chance of escape.

While walking to a set of lifts the extraordinary efficient bay crew opened the bay doors, and the sound of children’s voices echoed down the deckway. He turned around to see two Operations crew women in elf costumes with two smiling Manties leading two lines of noisy children talking to each other and exploring their new surroundings. He didn’t know it but he’d met Muskina at one of the two station entrances the children would use. The lifts he wanted to use were reserved to take the children to their Christmas party, so he had nowhere to go until they were gone. He took one look at the small children and his heart melted, every one of them either lost a parent or were orphans. He couldn’t ignore them even if he wanted to.

The smiling elves joyfully yelled “Merry Christmas sir!”

He plastered a smile on his face. “Merry Christmas to all of you!” One elf, crewwoman Hellie Neil, took his case and sent it back to his quarters.

The first group of children, trying to be on their best behavior, made their way in two neat lines, boys on the left, girls on the right, with an aide or escort trying to keep them straight. It looked like a Christmas parade. Every child had a name tag with their name, home, group, and shuttle number. Being maybe four or five Federation years old they showed signs of sitting too long on a shuttle and wanted to run around and play or explore some place new instead of walking in a neat line. They tried to stay quiet and in line, failing miserably at it.

The first boy to look at him had big blue eyes, smiled, and waved, and Mack smiled back as his helper pulled him along. The third girl in line behind him looked up and shouted “Are you a Feddie?” That did it.

“Yes I am young lady” and the kids slowed down to look at the tall, red-haired stranger in a weird looking uniform. He smiled, and told them ‘Merry Christmas’. The kids smiled back even though they had no idea what he told them.

The next group off were older, braver, knew a little more than the younger ones, and the line slowed down. Now he had questions to answer. A boy who looked to be about seven looked at him and said “Are you an admiral or something important?”

Mack got on a knee and looked him in the eye. “Aye young man, I am.”

“My pepa said he had to salute admirals. Do we have to?”

“No you do not, you are our guests today. We are friends.”

Another boy from some colony world replied with a strange accent “But you are a Feddie.”

“Does that matter? We must see if you qualify to be a friend of an admiral.” Mack made a fist and held it out. “If you can bump fists with me, you qualify. Can you do it?”

The kid looked at others around him, then the fist, and decided that had nothing to lose. He made a fist, reared his arm back and bumped the big man’s fist. When he did Mack unclenched and yelled “BOOM! You are my friend, what is your name?” Young Tiker introduced himself, and suddenly fist bumps with the admiral became a very big deal. When the next age group came by they were old enough to know that admirals knew everything, and suddenly he had many more questions to answer.

Mack noticed a familiar face smiling at her commander’s predicament. “Is there a problem with the lift system Ensign Purdey?”

“Not at all. All the lifts are in use and Commander Fitzommans is adjusting the system to make more cars available. It will just be a minute. You are doing a good job sir.”

“Thanks Ensign” he replied, then he answered more questions and gave more fist bumps.

The kids had done it to him. Everyone that walked by had lost one or both parents serving the Queen. Mack reckoned almost all of them died in the Octeric War trying to save the Federation. Overwhelmed by the visual evidence of the price innocents paid to destroy evil he engaged every child who walked by with fist bumps, smiles, answers, and even a hug or two, anything he could do to make them feel welcome.

Sadly, some of them weren’t ready or willing to talk. They were the ‘quiet ones’ who were silent or hid behind an aide or escort. He’d seen those looks too often, they were suffering the same trauma the children huddled on Indefatigable or one of several starbases he saw during the war.

They were the grieving ones, the fearful ones, the hurting, lonely ones trying to come to terms with the reality that their mom or dad or both were not coming home to them. He knew what they were going through and did all he could to help. Sometimes he helped, sometimes he didn’t, but he always tried. When he finished greeting them he would head to office, lock the door and try to forget all the little ones he couldn’t save, along with a host of friends and family he failed.

Eventually the last group came in and broke his heart to pieces, he literally felt it shatter. The scene hurt as bad as carrying Lady Admiral Forlaree’s broken body on the prison planet. There were only thirty of them, kids Manties called ‘Broken Ones’. Each had a personal escort, sometimes two people helping them. Many were in power chairs of some type, the ones that weren’t were just as heartbreaking. One had no arms, likely the victim of some kind of accident. A few more were trying to walk on artificial legs, a very difficult task with a constantly growing body being supported on legs that never kept up with their growth. Several of them were blind, three of them looked to be developmentally disabled in some way. Seeing these children being cared for so well made it difficult to claim the Federation was more advanced or civilized than the Compact.

He talked to every one of them, smiling, teaching them how to fist bump, butting heads with the twelve-year-old with no arms, trying to do anything to make them smile. The last few were coming by his spot when something got his attention; a puff of smoke, the distinct odor of an electrical short, and an alarm going off. A panicked young woman came running; he ignored her and sprinted to the source of the problem

Just past the Shuttle Bay entrance sat a smoking, beaten up, old power chair with the head of a girl sticking out the top of it. Smoke billowed from underneath; the escort had a look of terror on her face, the girl started to cry, and he reached for his com unit.

The escort grabbed his arm. “I am sorry sir; Adeleen’s power chair is an older model and not in good condition. She was so happy to come here, she has never been in space before.”

“Are you a family member” he asked.

“No, I am a volunteer at her med center. Her family could not escort her today. This will greatly upset them.”

“Not if I can help it. Engineering, this is Admiral King.”

“Engineering, Ordoro, Admiral. Is there an emergency near the Shuttle Bay sir? We are responding to an electrical fire.”

“Cancel the alert Ensign, we have a broken-down, smoking Manty power chair at my location. Send a crew down here to troubleshoot and repair it.”

“Chief Muslin and a crew are almost there now sir. Is it a child?”

“Aye Ensign.”

“It will be good as new when we are done with it. Odoro out.”

That solved one problem, now to deal with the one that mattered. The smoke had cleared, but the little girl was in tears and he couldn’t stand it. Mack got on his knees to try and look her in the eye. Before he could talk she started speaking.

“I am so sorry sir, Popopa could fix it if he was here.”

“Do not worry Adeleen, we will fix it for you. Is your family busy today?”

“Popopa and Momoma are ill. I wanted to hear your stories and now I cannot, I need my rider.”

Mack looked at her desperately hoping to find something to say. A second later he got what he needed. “Adeleen, dry your tears, we will take care of you. Do you have a Mom and Pop?”

“No sir” she replied in a cracking voice. “My pop died in a war and Moma died in an accident a few months ago.”

Mack dried her tears. “Well, we must do something about that today because it is Christmas Eve! My name is Mack and I do not have a family. I miss them very much just like you do. We will make a deal; I will be your pop today and you will be my girl. Will that help?”

For the first time since he saw her she tried to smile. “Yes sir! I will like that, but I do not have a rider.”

“I am your Popa Adeleen, you do not need a rider, I will carry you!”

Suddenly the smile disappeared and she looked scared again. “But I have medicine I need to take.”

“I will carry that too; you will have to hold on to me. Can you do it?”

Her aide spoke up. “That will be very hard to do Admiral. It is a big system and is attached to her.”

He shrugged his shoulders and nodded. “It does not matter; she cannot stay in it as it is repaired. Help me and we will figure it out. Your name is?”

“Gisela Bitington Admiral.”

“Time to work Ms. Bitington, we have a job to do. Help me open this up.”

It took a minute to take top panel and side doors off. When he picked Adeleen up she was as light as a feather, with an emaciated body below the waist that barely moved. She had some kind of port in her back that connected her to the medicine pack, which easily came out of a pocket in the chair and had a shoulder strap.

Mack smiled at Adeleen. “There is only one solution to this. Gisela, pick up the case and hold it for a moment. Can you hold on to me?”

“Yes Pop!”

“Good, you will sit on my shoulders!” He grabbed under her arms, lifted her above his head and set her down. Adeleen’s aide looked terrified, but they didn’t know who he was and how stubborn a Feddie could be.

“Ready?” Adeleen didn’t say a word.

“Good!” He took a couple steps and she giggled! Next, he jumped with both feet straight up. She held on tight and laughed some more.

“Thanks Pop, this is fun! My Pop did this when I was a little one!”

Mack looked at Gisela, who rolled her eyes at him, adjusted Adeleen’s clothing, slung the medicine pack on his shoulder, and off to the lift they went. He had to duck to get in the lift; when they made it inside Adeleen got the giggles again and everyone relaxed, especially her Pop; he’d forgotten how much fun a shoulder ride can be whether you were riding or giving it!

On the trip Gisela formally introduced Adeleen, a very bright ten-year-old from a little place called Ockery Town, a small farming community on the other side of the planet from Central City. She reminded him of Lady Forlaree, and he hoped she had the same smile and giggles as a little girl on Rietel. The joy young Adeleen had infected the adults riding with her.

The group walked off the lift and met the lead guide for the day waiting for them, the newly married Chief Mara Somewine. She wore a green elf costume with a bright red nose and cheeks. The costume barely fit, with a short green skirt that looked a centimeter or two too small. The Mossier V native had a beautiful set of legs to show off, and he tried not to blush or look anywhere but her eyes.

“Nice costume Chief, be careful wearing that in a partyhouse. Where do we go?”

“Thank you for the compliment sir, I can barely fit in it. Chief Wilder had the position here but she had to make repairs on a control board for the number three core so I took her place. I’m not worried about anyone but my husband, I fear I’ll be dragged off to the nearest mistletoe if he sees me.”

“I wouldn’t blame him in the least. Carry on and Merry Christmas.” Walking Adeleen down to a conference room with a portable stage built on one end the Broken Ones had their first experience of Christmas in the Federation, the story of the first Christmas on Kyotin VI. The celebration story began with an attack by Minh Hochi, a horrible, evil monster who came to enslave the planet’s population.

In a cloud of white smoke and fire perfectly staged by a couple of engineers, a young man named Pei Sigh suddenly appeared in a village to do battle against the evil monster as it was about to destroy the planet’s last defenders. With a shout Pei Sigh fought the Minh Hiochi with sticks as the monster blew fire at him, thrilling or scaring the children.

During the battle a doll appeared in the front of the stage, mostly ignored by the kids watching the battle. Suddenly, as the monster seemed ready to kill the hero, the lights went out, a ‘huge’ explosion of while smoke filled the stage and the doll transformed into the majestic “King of Peace’ who saved Pei Sigh and took the evil monster away. The children cheered and applauded when victory was declared.

With the people of Kyotin VI at peace the Broken Ones were escorted to their next station, the ‘Cookie Room’ in the Atrium where everyone made their own Christmas treats. Gently lifting Adeleen off his shoulders Mack and Gisela let Adeleen play in the dough making designs until she was satisfied with the special Christmas cookies and cinnamon buns she made. An elf collected the items, took them to a mess, baked the treats almost instantly, and another smiling elf passed them out.

Adeleen offered Mack the first cookie and he made the mistake of gently refusing to take her treat away. She crinkled her nose and got angry. “In my house Pop always has to eat the first treat to make sure they were safe for me to eat!” The ‘Pop for a Day’ relented, picked up a cinnamon bun, complimented her on her design skills, and ate it in about three bites. The elf passing out the goodies, Operations Crewwoman Shiel Galiel, added a replacement made for such an emergency.

Next, the group rode over to the Recreation Complex gym where some starbase crew did a commendable job dancing to the music of The Nutcracker that had Adeleen loudly clapping when they finished. Mack clapped too; the dancers needed all the encouragement they could get. They were going to be exhausted when they were finished their performances, and several had duty later.

A short walk down the deck introduced the broken ones to a new activity they’d never seen. No Matezans lived in the polar areas of their planet for some reason, so the broken ones had no idea what could be done on a sheet of ice.

Once seated poolside some skaters walked out on the ice, showed them their skates, and proceeded to do jumps, dances, and spins. The kids and escorts cheered the successful jumps, acted worried when a skater fell down until they got up again, and applauding when they bowed to them.

Then the skaters invited the children to join them. Only five agreed to try, and Giesla Bitington accepted an invitation from a young, unattached Science Division ensign to join him. Mack never asked her what Ensign Telms said as he escorted her on the ice, but did see his face fall when she answered. When she got off the ice Adeleen peppered her with questions about what the Feddie was doing with her in such an unsafe space. Being ignored for a moment Mack received a com call and went outside.

 

[CaptainGold]

II (continued):


Chief Muslin and his crew met him with Adeleen’s repaired power chair. They did much more than fix the motor. “It’s completely repaired Admiral, the electric motor was completely shot. We replaced it and the transmission. Whoever kept it going knew what he was doing, but the parts were worn out.”

“Her grandfather is a farmer Chief.”

“Makes sense sir. We also made a few alterations.” That was an understatement; they stripped the power chair down to the frame and replace just about everything. A new leather covered seat replaced the worn out one, instead of manually operated doors and panels a new automatic system would make it possible for Adeleen to get in and out on her own. A small hand control got built in the compartment so she could control the chair instead of being pushed or turned by someone else. Finally, the body of the power chair had been replaced by a new custom body with red and green stripes, a Santa head with a smile, and ‘Merry Christmas’ painted on the back. The repair crew signed their names below Santa.

When Mack picked Adeleen up and took her outside she saw the power chair and frowned. “Pop, do I have to get back in now? Your shoulders are much more fun to ride on!”

Mack sat her down in the chair and made new orders. “You must sit in the chair but you are my girl and you can help me. I need to talk to the others with us, and you can help me.”

“That is a good idea Pop!” and the little girl captured his heart forever. She became his sidekick; introducing the kids she knew, laughing and giggling with him as he tried to help the others with them. Her attitude infected the other children, making the day better for all. Whatever illness she had affected her body but it never conquered her spirit, in spite of the problems she had a heart of gold. Maybe Motos had control of Adeleen’s body, but God had her life and soul, and her pop for the day prayed that somehow God would help her.

The Broken Ones last two were the old traditions he grew up with. First, they stopped at the manger scene at a place called Bethlehem, where a very special little boy was born that changed the whole galaxy. The children were introduced to angels and shepherds, and were made into one or the other to give gifts. The last stop was an Engineering Division conference room to meet someone named St. Nicholas.

Playing Santa in a chair surrounded by the weirdest looking reindeer ever made and a dozen elves was none other than Captain Joshua Yoder himself, having the time of his life putting kids on his knee asking what presents the children wanted. A large group of elves passed out out gifts as his command. Mack stood in the back and shook his head; he would bet his retirement Yoder told LoDonna and Jolliet his price for delaying the station’s power system inspection until after Christmas.

Adeleen demanded Mack sit on Santa’s lap, an offer he could not refuse. “What do you want for Christmas Admiral?” the first Santa in the Compact asked.

“Peace for all and lots of gifts for the children!” Mack replied.

“Ho! Ho! Ho! Admiral, that will be hard but we will do it for all two thousand eight hundred and twenty-seven children on the station today!”

“How will you do this Santa?” Mack doubted Yoder could ever get out of the chair for the power system inspection after having that many children on his lap.

“Santa is an engineer Admiral, and my seven junior Santas will help me care for all of them!”

The number of kids blew him away, it meant over three thousand civilians were on the starbase, many more than he would have allowed if he knew the number. The starbase staff had pulled it off, an old-fashioned Christmas miracle occurred because Christmas and the children meant enough to them to do the job right.

Other than one power chair needing repaired there were no issues with the visitors. No security incidents or medical emergencies were called in, and most importantly everyone involved seemed to had a good time. The event proved the station could handle large civilian crowds, an important milestone for the future.

Being the last ones on, Adeleen and the Broken Ones were the last off. There were handshakes, fist bumps, hugs, and a few tears when the children were put in seats or anchored to the shuttle deck for the ride back to wherever they lived.

Adeleen gave her Pop a very long hug and kiss, and Mack promised to see her at Ockery Town and meet her family. It would take a miracle to sneak on the planet and not get caught, but he would find a way to do it. With one last wave he walked off the shuttle and back into reality. Gisela Bitington stood on the deck waiting for him. He’d seen her look on a Manty female before, meaning it wasn’t going to be a happy conversation.

“What did I do wrong today Ms. Bitington? Is there a problem we need to discuss?”

She looked upset at first, but smiled when she spoke. “Oh no Admiral King, you blessed all the Broken Ones, but you must know what you did for Adeleen. That is why I need to talk to you in silence.”

“I did nothing important today Gisela; you, the other volunteers, and my crew did the important work. I tried to help Adeleen when she needed it.”

“Stop this now! You are trying to be a facepainter Admiral. Do not ignore my words, you must hear the truth today and then accept it. You have no idea what you did for Adeleen. She is quickly dying. She will not make it to our next Hearthome; today was her last gift, her last outing. You made it a special day for her.”

The news made his knees buckle. “She is dying? This cannot be true.”

“It is true Admiral, I would not lie to you. The disease torturing her is very rare among us and there is no cure. As it is explained to me, her cellular structure is literally being destroyed, torn apart by her own body system. Her leg muscles have deteriorated to nothing, and the medicine she is forced to constantly take will eventually stop working and the rest of her body will fall apart. It will start soon and if God is merciful she will not be in pain very long.

“For the first time since her mother died she laughed and giggled like a girl her age should. She had fun here; she will write her own Christmas story when she gets home because she loves stories like her parents used to write for her. You showed her love and care and got her out of that Motos-made power rider she had been stuck in for months. Her family cannot safely get her out of it, they have to use special equipment to get her into bed. Only when she is in bed or sees a healer for treatment is she out of it. You gave her freedom from her prison Admiral, maybe for the last time. Why did you do this for the children today?”

Mack looked down at the deck for a moment to compose himself. “Ms. Bitington, we owe these children, the Compact, and Cavine a debt we cannot repay for the sacrifices your people made for us. Christmas is a holiday almost everyone in the Federation celebrates. Even most non-humans have a holiday like it, when family, friends, and others celebrate the gifts given to us.

“It sounds like our Hearthome celebration Admiral.” He’d heard the term used years ago but had no idea what it was.

“I hope it is as special as our Christmas. We live a long way from home and I wanted to try and bring some of our traditions to our people. One Christmas tradition is giving to others, because as we say in our space ‘it is better to give than to receive’.

“It breaks my heart to see these children and know that many of them lost a parent or both parents to save my people from the unspeakable evil of the Octeric. Trillions of children in my home space are alive because of their sacrifice. We wanted to do something special for them and I hope we did. I wish we could do more for them and so many others who hurt like they do.”

Gisela replied “Then be at peace Admiral, you did enough today.”

When the children left the parties started. In keeping with the spirit of the day even the skull and crossbones banners in the engineering spaces wore Santa hats. The starbase social areas rocked with Christmas songs, gift giving, loaded and unloaded eggnog, and the occasional rendezvous under a convenient mistletoe. Mack added to the celebration by calling a rare ‘free day’ on Christmas. No drills were scheduled, relaxed discipline allowed, and ordered no heavy preparation for the power system inspection. He even changed his own schedule.

On Christmas morning at zero six hundred he began a journey at the Engineering Division offices. The current watch included two party actors and six other officers and non-coms pulling an extra-long shift so others could celebrate. He shook hands, called them all by name, and wished them a Merry Christmas. Ten minutes after he left coffee and donuts showed up at the office.

Next he entered the production facilities, put on protective clothing and a specialized com unit for the space, and personally wished the staff a Merry Christmas. Shortly thereafter he ran into an Operations crew whose main duty consisted of cleaning the unused parts of the station, the worst job on board until they had to do hazmat cleanup. They were given the day off to do anything other than clean.

Slowly but surely, he made his way around the station, making sure he spoke to every enlisted staff member and junior officer. There were no inspections, no questions, no orders, and no evaluations. Smiles were passed, quiet words shared, sometimes small gifts given, and Christmas greetings announced. He visited staff members who lost their families and planets to the Octeric to make sure they celebrated, or just listened as they talked about home. He visited every party but one, the senior officers’ bash. They deserved as much time without him.

Sometime after nineteen hundred he found an unused lounge with a large window, sat down, and did some stargazing. It had been a remarkable day on the starbase, an extraordinary quiet one. No emergencies occurred, no ship calls came in, only two security runs were made when three crew members drank a little too much loaded eggnog. For one day peace and joy reigned on a military post, and the rest of the galaxy left them alone.

In between sips of coffee, he silently looked out into the beauty of space and wondered why he wasn’t celebrating. He had a long list of things to be thankful for, starting with still being alive. Faith saw him through a lot of hard days, and today he lived in a peaceful part of the galaxy. He had more than his share of suffering and adversity, but that’s the life he signed up for. In spite of the hurdles, he sat at the top of the Starfleet food chain, a senior officer responsible for the lives of thousands of ‘fleeters, and trillions of innocents. That didn’t bring much comfort; once he returned to his ‘home’ he’d be kicked out of of the service.

The recent classified reports he read were troubling; Starfleet had its hands full trying to sort through the anarchy and chaos the Octeric left behind. Planets laid in ruins, refugees were everywhere, enemies on the borders were causing trouble, the Federation’s problems seemed overwhelming. Recovery would take years, if it ever happened. The civilian government seemed to be fracturing under the weight of so many crises at once.

Suddenly something in the window caught his eye; an amazing, beautiful sight that got his full attention. The bright blue and green of Manteza’s surface slowly revealed itself as it rotated under its system star, named Allie. For some reason this common occurrence he’d seen thousands of times before held his attention. When it finished he understood the problem.

He’d just finished watching a beautiful planet rise by himself, with no one to share it with. Now, on a starbase full of beings he sat by himself. Tomorrow everyone would be an arm’s length away, saying ‘Aye sir.’ He didn’t live in ‘crazy space’ now, he lived in quiet space alone and hated it.

“It is what it is” he whispered, and took a lift ride back to his office. He had an early day and six or seven hours of sleep would be a good gift if he could get it.

 

[CaptainGold]

III.

Much the surprise of both sides, Manties shared many things in common with Feddies, including the phrase ‘no good deed goes unpunished’ in the insanity of Matezan/human politics.


“You and your people did what you wanted to do Admiral King. So, as you say at your home ‘Merry Christmas!’” Gisela Bitington smiled to end her News Service report. The MNS reporter hadn’t really lied to the controversial Nineteenth Fleet commander; she volunteered at the Ockery Town Med Center and met Adeleen there. But she violated the agreement between the Veterans Fund and Pat LoDonna when she brought a hidden vid cam on the station, intending to tell a story about the children enjoying a special day. But her report became an essay on Christmas, Feddies, and the controversial, reclusive, and very human ‘Hero of the Stolen Ones’ to ordinary Manties.

The vid created a sensation on Manteza and Rietel. Prime Minister Newmeister tried to get her fired and his supporters made her life miserable for weeks. The firestorm grew over her employment until the head of MNS sent a profanity-filled note to the Prime Minister (that ‘somehow’ got leaked to the public) and told him in great detail what he could do with his demands. Several arrests by the Ockery Town Orisen ended the personal assaults on her.

For her trouble, the Queen’s Veteran Fund gave Giesla an award and thousands of new donors gave to the Fund. A few hearty souls tried to design their own ice skates and learn how to glide on ice, miserably failing. When the skaters heard about the problem several made vids and took leave to teach interested Matezans how to do it.

When the Prime Minister’s attacks on Feddies got rolling, other interested parties grew interested in the controversy. Queen Charlotte and a few advisors met at the palace looking for political opportunities. An assistant brought up Giesla Binington’s report. The Queen and her other advisors had never seen it.

“Mack King looks awful, I have never seen him so ill” Charlotte stated after the vid finished.

“What is wrong with him? She makes him a living saint carved on the wall of the Great Hall” Cavine First Lord Dyson exclaimed.

“I would not concern yourself with him Your Majesty” Lord Bishop replied. “He is a unique Feddie. His fleet is all up, doing great work for us. If he would tell us what they are doing at ‘Octerica’ not even that chibit Newmeister could complain about him. Can you palek the briktile ass from office and out him to a lockup?” Charlotte ignored him.

“He looks like he is ‘carrying the weight of a planet on his shoulders’ as his people would say. I believe there is a very old mythological story to illustrate the burden. It is a reasonable response to his current situation” Lord Harkenony added.

Charlotte replied “It is more than appropriate my lord, it fits him perfectly. He is committed to his duty and the burdens he carries are overwhelming him.”

“He knows his future as well as we do. Once his replacement takes command of Nineteenth Fleet he will return to Earth for what the Federation facepainters call ‘consultations’. The word is a euphemism to hide the ugliness. His briktile civilian or military commanders will destroy his reputation and career then release him from service. His career is over the moment he returns to their space. If God is with him he will only lose his career, but from our reports it is likely he will be in the visen for supposed ‘war crimes’ committed before and during the Octeric War. It is insane; he is being treated like a polof by his own people.”

“You are right as far as you speak my lord. But you miss the great burden he carries, and it is partly our fault. Why did he come back here after the war?”

“Lord Beavermon’s sources tell me he was assigned a mission to talk to you about our relationship with them Your Majesty. His assignment was very fortunate for us but not him. His superiors must consider his service here a failure because of our briktile ambassador’s idiotic questions to President Quixon.”

“He did tell Admiral Bomerac he came out here on open time Your Majesty” Lord Dyson smirked.

Lord Bishop continued his assault. “The ass of a prime minister on this planet is the one who should be in the visen. Without his decision to act like King Newmeister for a day his seniors at Command would not recall him. He is ‘being screwed by his own people’ as Admiral Batizy would say.”

Queen Charlotte smiled at the room. “You do not see all there is to see my lord. Admiral King is a very fortunate man whether he knows it or not. God or circumstance gave him an opportunity to come back here, and he came here for one reason and one reason alone. He believes his real mission failed and wears the failure on his face. Men are frustrating creatures no matter where in the galaxy they are born or come from.”

Rietel Senior President Williton disagreed with her too. “Your Majesty, I believe you are mistaken. He involved himself in our politics, something many warriors involve themselves in when we have peace. It is the desire for more combat he is not ready for, along with the stress of command because of his inexperience. He may be ill or physically exhausted now. He may need treatment before he does something foolish.”

“You wrong my friend. I know the solution to his problem, and the treatment must be administered personally. The last time he was on the planet was the day of the diplomatic conference, correct Lord Knodden?”

“Yes Your Majesty.”

“That means he still has not presented his orders to me as Nineteenth Fleet commander and he has not attended me as a temporary ambassador to my government. For a senior allied commander to make such an error is a grave oversight.”

Lord Dyson disagreed. “With respect, it is not a grave oversight. His command burdens are as big as mine except as a matter of scale. His fleet has unique problems and limited resources. As you can see conditions on his base have never been better since it opened for use, and he knows his time here is almost at an end. He has brilliantly carried out his orders even with the stress.”

“No my lord, he has not done his duty to me because he is hiding from his perceived failures. We must show him the error of his ways. Lord Knodden, you will contact the starbase tomorrow morning their time and personally order Admiral King to attend me. We will have a surprise for him when he visits me in a day or two, a Christmas gift he needed to receive months ago.”

 

[CaptainGold]

IV:


Mack stood under his office shower, or better put, about seventy percent of him stood under the shower head spewing water. It usually wasn’t a big deal; he’d put up with it his entire career. Today it just added to the irritation.

“Merry Christmas Mack” he hissed. It was not just another irritating Tuesday.

Yesterday he received the final report on the station power system test. He’d been reamed out by the Starfleet Engineering Directorate for not getting it done according to schedule, and had to personally swallow the blame for it. Saying ‘I delayed the test so some kids could celebrate Christmas on the base’ would send the senior engineers straight to the C-in-C’s office.

The test results proved Captain Yoder’s prediction before Christmas completely correct. The power system checked out perfectly. In fact, Yoder and his staff did such a good job using and maintaining it he recommended a longer time between inspections. So, holding off the inspection didn’t matter to anyone but a bureaucrat somewhere.

The past week had been busy. Nineteenth Fleet ships won three battles, two SAR missions came up empty, two station members were recovering in the base hospital after accidents, more data on Octerica needed analyzed, and masses of trivia were piling up. He didn’t have time for today’s schedule, including the one event he’d been avoiding for months.

A few minutes after cleaning up he sat half dressed polishing his boots, an old ritual that gave him some peace before the ugliness. The swish of an old brush against leather, polish on his fingers, seeing the light reflected off the shiny finish, gave him time to think. There were many things to think about.

His attitude smelled worse than the barn he had to shovel out as a kid. He had no patience with subordinates, no smiles, no joy. Command had become a burden instead of an opportunity to serve, and he didn’t know what to do about it. Today’s meeting with Queen Charlotte and whoever else showed up filled him with dread. He considered her a friend, but she and her government failed him. No matter how hard he brushed, he could only remember the prison planet. Thankfully, a new distraction occurred.

“Come in” he said while throwing on his jacket. Commander LoDonna and Doctor Tobalas walked in and sat down.

“We need to speak to you Admiral, it won’t take long, you cannot be late to see the Queen.”

“Frankly Pat, I do not care whether I’m late or not. What do we need to speak about?”

“You, Admiral.” Alert sirens went off immediately. He put the boot brush down and stared through his subordinates’ skulls. They weren’t intimidated, and Ranay quietly got the hammer out.

“I reviewed the results of your physical yesterday. You need some leave time to rest--”

“Here’s your answer: No, end of discussion.”

“Admiral, you are physically and mentally exhausted. You aren’t eating well, you are borderline anemic, which I still cannot believe, and you look as white as the tile in my sterile equipment cabinets. After reviewing your medical history, I really should send you to the Med Center at Government House for treatment. When’s the last time you ate Manty food?

“Probably four years ago, so what?”

“You require real food these people grow. A diet of coffee, water, and fake salad from our supplies isn’t enough for you. You know this already.”

LoDonna leaned forward in her seat and launched. “What concerns me Admiral is your attitude and demeanor. You’re not yourself these days. It started after Christmas when you didn’t celebrate, and, respectfully, your attitude has gotten worse ever since. The strong, positive leader we needed isn’t here now.”

Ranay continued hammering away. “I read your command record Admiral, at least the non-classified parts of it. I’m amazed you’re on your feet and working. You never got rotated off the front lines during the war. You spent years on one ship killing Octeric, without rest or rotation, grinding every day trying to stay alive. Even if the losses were terrible there is no excuse for running you into the ground. Then you come here and take no leave as your orders allow.”

“Then you have no idea how bad it was Ranay, and I’m not going to explain it to you. If you’re done, thanks for your concerns, I will deal with them.”

LoDonna looked at the doctor, who glanced over and nodded his head. “We both knew what you were going to say, and here’s my reply. Because there is no current emergency or crisis that demands your presence here as CMO I am ordering you to take a one-week medical leave on the planet. If you refuse I am going to command over it.”

Silence filled the office; the argument ended right then and there. That com call would end his career and he knew the doctor would make it. But he made a threat anyway.

“Understand this you two; I’m leaving on a shuttle with time, com unit, and a copy of the Code of Conduct. If I find out this order is pulled out of a black hole you will have a nice stay in the station brig. Dismissed.”

“See you in a week” Ranay said, and left immediately. Pat LoDonna had one last comment before she stood to leave.

“Admiral, I know this meeting is a problem for you. But trust us, you need to rest after it’s over.”

Mack sort of smiled back at her. “I know three things Pat. One, I trust you, even when you’re wrong like now. Two, I don’t need a medical leave. And three, I am so mad I will bust you to ensign if you don’t leave.”

Half an hour later, with a half-packed travel case, Mack walked on the Shuttle Deck for his trip. Chief Crane saw him coming and tried to get out of his way. The two made eye contact, and the deck chief walked over to get reamed out.

“Admiral, we received a message from the command center. The Manties are sending a shuttle to take you to your meeting with the Queen.”

Mack shook his head. “I’ll only ask once. Where is my shuttle, and has pre-flight been done?”

“Precadru is ready to go sir. Do you have a crew?”

“No, I am still a Class A rated shuttle pilot. I’m flying myself down and coming back when I’m ready. I’m leaving in five minutes, is my course posted?”

“Aye sir, but Cavine sky control hasn’t approved it.”

“Too bad for them. Clear the deck Chief.”

Exactly five minutes later he left the station, heading directly to the Queen’s Palace on the outskirts of Central City. Two Cavine shuttles immediately intercepted him. When the lead shuttle tried to contact him, he turned off his com system. Expecting a weapons lock from both shuttles in return he kept his defense systems down. They targeted Precadru, he ignored them. He wasn’t going to be shot down or flown around like a tourist. If he had to be here he would do things his way; personally thumbing his nose at Queen Charlotte, her military, and everyone responsible for his misery. Then after the meeting he would try to meet the Prime Minister alone.

This used to be such a beautiful place he thought. He used to love this planet and most of its people. Today, in spite of the colors on the surface, the easy ride down, and all the personal history, this place and person were anathema to him. The risky investment he made on these people saved the Federation from destruction, and left him with nothing that mattered.

One good thing happened on the ride down, he enjoyed a perfect day to fly. There were no clouds, leaving a bright blue sky to enjoy. Other than the two escort shuttles nothing flew anywhere close to Precadru. There were no low-level winds to worry about, landing took no effort at all. The problems he faced began when he had to deal with humans again, at least Manties.

“I see the welcoming committee, loaded and ready, this will be fun” he said to himself. There were at least two dozen Queen’s Own waiting at the landing pad, weapons up, ready to fire. The elite unit of the Matezan military, sworn to guard the Queen’s life with theirs, never took any chances. Above the landing pad one of the shuttles still targeted Precadru, holding station one hundred meters above the pad.

Shutdown took seconds. “All stop, open hatch, combat shutdown, code Eketel.” Precadru powered down immediately, except for the hatch motor. Once Mack stepped on the ground the hatch would shut and lock, making the combat shuttle completely dead until he returned to open it. If he never returned, the shuttle would stay on the pad forever unless someone tried to move it. The resulting crater and building damage would take a long time to repair.

A Queen’s Own senior officer met him at the hatch. “Hands high Feddie, NOW!”

Mack smiled. “No Major, I have a dead shuttle and no weapons or com devices. You have already scanned me and will at least twice more.”

“You are a briktile ass” the senior responded.

“I am a Federation admiral Manty, and if I want your opinion on anything I will issue you one. Let us go, now.”

“Shoulder, on the hop, go!” he shouted. As one the unit powered down weapons, holstered them, and sprinted toward an entrance in two perfect lines. Mack kept pace with the major trying to embarrass him, there would be no weakness shown. The two-hundred meter run ended with the escort coming to attention at the door, still in formation. The major opened the door in silence, never acknowledging the senior officer walking by.

The ritual hadn’t changed since he first met the queen years before. Two stops for scans, one after taking off his outer jacket and handing it over for an extra scan. Questions asked and answered, no smiles or small talk shared. When he put his jacket back on two more Queen’s Own escorted him down a long hall toward the same meeting room he’d been in before.

Today, however, the escorts didn’t stop, they kept walking. The three silently turned down a side hall, made another turn, and suddenly Mack couldn’t believe his eyes. He found himself in a brightly-lit hallway full of colored lights. Strands of every color hung from the ceiling and along the walls, making a tunnel of light for the three to walk through. Half way down the hall he stopped to take the sight in. Then he noticed the decorations hanging above his head.

He put a hand over his mouth and rubbed his face. They weren’t Manty designs hung up there; they were Christmas decorations! Every decoration the starbase staff made for the children filled the space. On second glance he noticed that the majority of the symbols came from the traditions he grew up in. Stars, candles, Santas, wreaths, reindeer, shepherds, a manger, angels, they were everywhere.

“Are you well Admiral?” the guard mastrooper asked.

“I am quite well Sergent, as we call your rank. Where did this come from?”

“I do not know, I have not seen this before now. Her Majesty shut off this space weeks ago. It is interesting to view. Are you ready to walk sir?”

“Just a moment” Mack whispered. Something else caught his eye. Just down the hall the decorations ended, replaced with a strange looking light show. The pinprick sized lights shined, but were not in any design or order he recognized. He turned to the escort troopers, who silently stared back. With his eyes looking straight up he took two more steps down the hall. A pattern emerged, something very familiar but he couldn’t place it. He took one more step to view the ceiling.

“Oh my God, how?”

For the first time since his academy years tears came to his eyes. He took one more step and realized what Queen Charlotte had done. She not only discovered his dead home world, she set up a light show consisting of the major constellations he would have seen from the planet’s equator. All four constellations were in the exact places they would be in the night sky on a summer’s evening.

The effort it took to do this blew him away. He spent minutes staring at the light show, thinking about home, his dead family, and what it would be like to share this sight with someone else.

Eventually the mastrooper lightly grabbed his arm. “Are you ready Admiral?”

Wiping his eyes with his sleeve he replied “No, I may never leave here. But I am sure the Queen has a full schedule today and I am late. Let us go.”

"We are almost to the meeting room Admiral, and Her Majesty can change her schedule for you.” They took a short walk to the end of the hall, where the second trooper opened a large wooden door. Lights from inside the room lit up the hallway, along with new sensations, the smell of hot chocolate, cinnamon, and who knew what else. It didn’t matter what smelled, it smelled like Christmas to him.

“Please enjoy the food and space Admiral, Her Majesty will will enter shortly” the mastrooper stated and shut the door, leaving Mack with a big smile.

“Someone had a vidcam on the station, Pat’s not going to be happy when I tell her about this.” The small meeting room had a longseat, two chairs, a spread of food not given the children, a fire in an old-fashioned fireplace, and in the corner a decorated Christmas tree. Candles and the fire lit up the room, strange things to use when the outside temperature hovered around twenty-one degrees and there’s not a cloud in the sky in the late morning hours.

However, the scene certainly set a mood for the meeting, one he never expected. Why did the ruler of the Matezan Compact do this for him, or to him? What did she want from him in return? Is he being scammed by an ally’s government?

Taking a few sips, looking over the room, remembering Christmases past did enough, and the doubts faded away. There’s a reason for this and I’ll have to wait for it. I wish I could share this with someone he thought. Dozens of names flashed through his mind, then someone knocked on the door.

He stood, the door opened, and a voice shouted “Give Honor to Her Majesty, Queen Charlotte!” He got on a knee as the beautiful, marvelous, smiling leader of the Compact entered. The door immediately shut, leaving them alone.

“You need not bow to me my friend Mack King, but you do owe me an apology!”

“Only one?”

“Yes my Feddie friend, I have waited a long time for you to see me. I love seeing prayers and dreams fulfilled. Please sit.” He sat on the long seat and she joined him, another blatant violation of protocol. Her smile brightened the room and his soul.

“How did you do this Charlotte? How did you find my home? This is unbelievable; the lights, the room, everything.”

“I did not expect such easy questions. I am a queen Mack, and I am good at giving orders! Lord Knodden had a long meeting with Gisela Bitington, then your assistant ambassador Commander Jolliet met him and a few artists of note I know.”

“Why meet with Gisela?”

“She made you look very good on vid, and showed us your version of Hearthome. Finding your home was quite easy; ‘my spooks’, as you call them, know who to ask to find the answers I need. A quick visit to the Federation Science Directorate to search their Planetary Star Catalogue made the decorating easy.

“Now I have a question for you: Does this matter?”

Mack sighed, took a sip of hot chocolate, and told her the ugly truth. “I have not celebrated Christmas since my home and family died. Thank you for this gift, it means a lot to me. It brought back many good memories.”

“Thank you for your words and honesty my Feddie friend. But you are mistaken, this is not my gift to you, I must go get it. Please enjoy your drink, and I will return shortly.”

She stood as Mack did and left, with nobody opening or closing the door for her. He watched her leave, totally confused. Nothing about this meeting made sense, did she really do all this for him? What gift could she possibly give him? What about their meeting, presenting his orders to her?

Oh well, I guess I’ll find out. Deciding doing something was better than standing around worrying, he headed back to the food table and refilled his hot chocolate. Next to the decanter sat some cinnamon buns, one of them looked extremely tasty…

“Merry Christmas my silly Feddie!”

The beautiful voice snapped his head around. The cup fell out of his hand and shattered on the floor. He never heard the door open, and he refused to believe his lying eyes. The woman of his shattered dreams stood four meters away.

“This cannot be, you’re dead.”

“Come and see if your eyes lie Mack” Lady Admiral Doleture Forlaree replied.

He took the first step; she met him halfway. He surrounded her with his arms, she furiously kissed him. When they touched he knew the miracle he prayed for actually happened. The last time Mack saw her she lay in a coma at the Cavine Med Center on Manteza. There seemed to be no hope. He grieved for months, tortured by the memories of her lying there. Now, on his Christmas Day, she came to liberate him.

Doleture broke off the kiss, and Mack had questions. “What happened? How are you in my arms?”

“You saved me in the Med Center. You touched my soul somehow. When I knew you came back for me I fought to live, and I woke up. I needed you and you are my life gift. Then we discovered you have no family. I am now your gift, your family now and forever my Committed One.”

“Committed One? Is that what you just said?”

“Yes, of course I did. Do you know what ‘family’ means?”

“Great!” Mack replied, but instead of another kiss he started looking around the room.

“What are you looking for Feddie?” a very irritated Manty female exclaimed.

“Queen Charlotte missed something; we need a mistletoe in here.”

She turned his face back to her. “Oh no my Committed One, I have one waiting at my home for you. What is it used for?”

“As your people say ’Experience teaching is always best’. Here is your first lesson my love forever.”

Finis... Comments welcome, thanks for reading