Chapter 10

MARK

It had been two days since the Kharak Genocide. Most of the fleet couldn’t sleep well. Medication was only now being distributed to help, and the effects still didn’t show themselves in the faces of everyone in the mess hall that morning.

Jasiid thought it would be good to get everyone together for breakfast since they were all each other had now, and hadn’t spoken much since the incident. They had most trouble finding out where Johan was staying. Bridge section, apparently.

“I’ve tasted a lot of horrible shit in the desert, but this is by far the worst tasting thing I’ve ever eaten,” Isabella commented.

“Right, you’re a Manaan. I’ve been looking at what the crew’s made up of. Many pilots from your clan on here,” Johan said. “Plenty of Naabal and Sjet, of course.”

“I think I’m the only Soban pilot. I haven’t met any at the briefings the past couple days,” Mark added. After the first night following the disaster, Leonard called a gathering in the main hangar. It was later announced that training would begin the day after the funeral ceremony, which would be held that night. He thought it best to allow grieving time. Mark was in command of these sessions, and Isabella was to be his assistant per his request.

“Do you have ideas for your speech?” Jasiid asked.

“None so far,” he said. “I’ve barely started coming to terms with this, and I’m supposed to make some inspirational speech? Hah, right.”

Jasiid hit him on the shoulder. “Think positive, buddy! The entire fleet’ll be listening.” He hadn’t talked much about how he was handling it. He had one chance to meet some part of his family and it was taken from him. Mark knew him enough to understand that he was repressing whatever pain he felt, still always smiling as if nothing bad has ever happened to him.

“Besides, people already know you thanks to your father, now you can maybe earn their respect for yourself,” he said. That idea he did like.

They continued to eat and talk about how they were doing, find out what they had in common. Johan spoke next. “I’ve also been put on notice that I am to command the first support frigate when we arrive at the asteroid vein. I’m excited about it, but it means I won’t see very much of you all on the trip.”

Isabella congratulated him in her usual childish manner making the group laugh. It was good to hear people laughing. Mark was not quite there yet, but he enjoyed being around a somewhat cheerful crowd. “It means we’ll see more of each other on the field when we need to dock,” she continued.

“I apologize, but I really have to get to writing that speech. I’ll see you guys before the ceremony.” Mark faked a smile and left them to continue their conversation. He did have to do his speech, but he also wanted time alone to think over what he planned to do now that he didn’t have a home to go back to. Before going to his room, he decided to wander the ship for a while.

The closer he got to the middle, the older everything looked. The walls were rusted and heavily bolted together instead of the sleek smooth walls on the outer sections where his room was. The lighting was a dim orange rather than fluorescent white. He imagined some areas had been built before his dad was born. Only days after launch and the ship was already a floating relic. He noticed a staleness in the air. He sighed and turned around to go back, figuring he’d have better luck planning things out at his desk than wandering the old lonely halls.

***

The blue lights of the hangar deck were now out save for a dim red glow from the resupply dock. A crowd gathered around a fire kept lit by fuel, as no wood was onboard and they’d need far too much paper to keep it lit. There was a podium in front where speakers said their words of kindness and read passages from the books of old. Grim and sorrowful faces were seen in most of those attending in person, and there were sure to be many others watching from their rooms.

Mark, he stood among the other Soban of the crew; most of them were high-ranking officials working on the bridge levels. He crossed eyes once with Jay’s copilot, but he looked away and paid him no further attention. Cromell, chief of security, was also present. He could not recognize any of the others, but many threw him glances of condolence. His father was a well-known man and had been the Sa of the Soban following the passing of the previous in his old age. Unlike some clans, the status of Sa is done by vote and not by blood. The Soban place little stock in lineage.

His friends were all gathered with their respective clans. He saw Jasiid and Johan standing together with a crowd of Naabal. Isabella stood with some of the other Manaan pilots.

“Nervous?” a man behind him asked.

“Not really, I know what needs to be said. This crew needs spirit, they need a reason and hope to go with it.”

Mark was invited up to speak after captain Leo shared a few words. Staring out at the crowd felt less nerve racking than he’d expected. Then again, not all that many had their heads raised, or were otherwise watching the flames burn.

“I’m sure I need no introduction. You all know my name, mostly from my father’s. You all know of him, but it’s fair to say I’m the only one who really knew him.” He paused to see that he had the attention of many, confused looks came to him. “We’ve lost many, too many to name or even to count. Our families, our friends, the ones we loved dearly. We haven’t only lost our people. As I stand here and as I’ve seen throughout the halls in all the faces of those I cross paths with, we’ve lost our spirit.” He now had all the attention. “I lost my father, you lost your idol. A war hero, a man of unparalleled strength. But was he? The man you all know is little more than an image he chooses to show you. You see the victories while I see the sleepless nights, the bottle in hand, and tears in eyes. This is not to say he was a weak man, he was the strongest man I’ve ever met. But not for winning dogfights or securing peace, but for taking on the responsibility of all those lives he’d ended since no one else did, to bear the guilt’s weight for all the death and destruction that came along with the Northern Coalition’s final years of securing both hemispheres of Kharak.

“We’re now the only ones available to hold onto this burden. We decide the future of our clans. This is not about some fanatics launching missile threats from desert camps in the middle of nowhere, we are on a long journey to reclaim our rightful home, our original world.

“We are no longer the clans of Kharak. We must move on from that and become greater. Kharak is destroyed and that’s something we will eventually learn to cope with. For now, we have one thing to give our focus, and that’s these new enemies ahead. These Taiidan. The task is a frightening one, possibly even impossible, but this is the only option. Don’t ask if that’s what Markus the Great would have done because he’s not here and won’t be coming back. To our fallen Kushan brothers and sisters, to those of us here today, and for whoever we encounter on our way. All of us stardust, burned into existence anew.” The pilots repeated the line and stomped the deck with each foot. The crowd applauded and he walked back to the other Soban.

Each clan now proceeded with their own customs and rituals. His clan’s ritual required bloodletting. Each cut the clan crest into their palm and blood was collected into a jar. “Mark, it isn’t traditional, but would you do the honours of lighting the blend?” Cromell, a thick bearded man said. Many others were nodding.

“But the Kiith’sa—

“Was your father, the blood heir to Soban the Red. Lineage has not necessarily been of much importance among us, but we figured for this special occasion, and having said such moving words, that you would be best fit.”

“I don’t know what to say, thank you.”

“Your father was only Soban’sa for a short time, but he had been our friend for many years before that. He took little pride in his work with us. He did, however, take pride in you. We can see why quite clearly now.” The group of ten of them bowed, and he did in return. He then noticed the faces were familiar, possibly from pictures his father had around his house.

The ritual was simple enough. The blood of all friends and family of the deceased pooled together into one to signify their unity. After that they wash their hands with a healing solution and wrap the hand in cloth. The jar is topped off with an oil less dense than blood and then the fire from the cremation was used to catch it. It would burn for hours, and the ceremony would be finished when the flames went out. It was not necessary to stay to the end once the flame was lit.

He proceeded to the fire with a torch and lit it in the flames. He walked carefully back to the group gathered in a circle. A young woman held it out to him and nodded. He touched the flame to the liquid and it lit. He blew out the torch and returned it to Cromell.

“Oh flames of our past,” he began, “return our fallen to the air we breathe and the soil we till. Send their soul into Sajuuk’s hands so he may shape the next. All of us stardust, burned into existence anew. We remain here as the seeds for all things to come.” The jar was brought over to the fire and placed on the surrounding bricks. Some came to give their own, adding to the pool.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see Jasiid smiling. “Naabal services are pretty brief, so I figured I’d see how you’re doing.”

“I hope I said enough.”

“You said it well, kid.” Jay’s copilot said approaching them. “I picked you for a spoiled runt like your father, but you do have a way with words and with the people. Right now, it’s what they need. But don’t let it get to your head.”

“I’m not sure I’ve met you before, but you look familiar for some reason.”

“I am Robert Soban.”

“No way, he thought you had been killed,” Mark said in shock. Jay stood confused, wondering what either of them meant.

“I’m your uncle.”

***

His friends left them to talk alone. The hangar was beginning to clear out; only a few grievers remained. He was told that he had an uncle that died long ago. “Was my father aware?”

“No,” he replied. “I was glad to be out, to start my life over. Markus and I were never on the best terms. When your mother came into the picture it was the end for us. I loved her first, but I bet he never mentioned that.” He hadn’t. “She broke my heart and stole my little brother for good. That’s about the last I remember of her.”

“I never met her, so I wouldn’t know. I know he loved her. He blamed himself for her death, never really got over it.”

“You have her eyes. Other than that, you’re definitely his son.” He pulled out Mark’s necklace. “Where’d you get this?” he asked.

“Not sure, it was the only thing they left me when I was dropped off with the Paktu couple who raised me.”

“It was hers, she was always wearing it. From her home city Ferin Sha. It’s been a lifetime,” he said. He knew their parents met in Ferin Sha. It was a communal Manaan town that boomed once a year for a festival that lasted weeks. He wasn’t too familiar with it, he’d have to ask Isabella.

“How’d you die? Or not die, I should say. He didn’t ever go into details.”

“I narrowly survived my last mission, but was decidedly killed in action. Knowing that, I became someone new. I married, had children, and grew old. Now I’m here.”

“I have cousins?”

“Had. They were not among the ones chosen to leave. As for me, it’s a long story I don’t feel up to sharing.” The room was now the two of them. The fire would burn until the day change in an hour.

Mark hadn’t heard much of him. His father told stories of his mother and their friends, never his uncle. There was only one photograph from when they were in their teens. Maybe he chose to forget him after whatever split them apart, or perhaps he felt guilt about how it turned out. He would never know and now it didn’t matter. Mark said, “Sajuuk’s hand, or our long lost kin. These Taiidan they’ve captured. They look just like us.”

“I heard they didn’t survive the interrogation process,” his uncle said.

“Good. I want no mercy spared on the likes of them.” It was unlike him to hold a grudge, but he understandably made an exception. His life was stolen from him, his home, his family, his love, none of that remained but in memories. Gazing on the dimming light of the fire, he decided he would do what he could to ensure justice is paid and their exodus put to an end above the skies and seas of Hiigara.

“I’ll see you around, kid. I suggest not to stick around too long. I hear there’s much to do tomorrow.” He didn’t forget. The pilots on the Mothership were for the most part low on combat experience, fresh out of the academy. They were not bad pilots, but the battle at Khar-Selim’s resting grounds showed that coaching was needed. They’ve already lost too many and if they were going to survive the journey, a good strike force would he an excellent first step.

The first group to train weren’t participating in the fight, having an insufficient number of fighters. That wouldn’t be the case next time, and he wanted to make sure everyone was competent. He knew the Taiidan were a more sophisticated enemy than the Raiders. They haven’t gone up against their pilots and didn’t know what to expect. The pilots they rescued from low orbit stated they were a formidable opponent. If they weren’t prepared to face a militant and trained enemy attack force, they would be in trouble. He took a last glance at the blood jar before turning to leave.

He saw Isabella standing off in the dark watching him. Curious, he approached. “I’m exhausted but can’t get to sleep,” she said. He noticed her eyes were red and she smelled like the herb. Manaan traditions, he supposed.

“Who can?” he replied. “No idea what I’m supposed to do tomorrow. I’m hoping we’ll get through the basics easy enough.”

“The fleet’s the best there is, after all.”

“The fleet’s all… Oh, funny.”

“Yet true.” There was a morbid side to her humour that amused him. Best to joke about tragedy than grieve for the unchangeable. He learned that from seeing how dwelling on it affected his father; he wished he’d never have to contain that kind of sorrow.

“Let’s take a tour around the place,” he suggested. Neither could sleep and there were sure to be many halls left unexplored and many rooms yet unseen in their new home.