Tranquility Divided

Part Ten

by G. Lawrence

Recap; This is the final chapter and epilogue of Tranquility Divided. The characters have traveled a long hard road and it's not over yet. All characters are over 18 years old.

* * * * * *

Chapter Eleven

BLACK SASH

By the first day of the Black Sash Tournament, every hotel room from New York to Washington City was packed. With the casinos, nightclubs and restaurants at full capacity, Grey was able to enter Atlantic City with a minimum of attention, much to his satisfaction.

The Harbor Queen was like no hotel Grey had ever seen, even the palaces of Europe unable to compete with its opulence. And that was before he had seen the penthouse.

"How much does this suite cost?" Grey asked as they entered the penthouse lobby.

"Suites, Grey. Six of them," Roger replied. "Enough for you, me and Tey, our security detail, and anyone else you might want to invite up. And enough entrances to be discreet."

"The cost," Grey repeated, studying the Verde jade floors before looking out over the balcony. The city below was brightly lit, the harbor full of boats, and the streets so busy Grey could hear the noise without trying.

"All comp. Your exhibition has attracted more attention to these games than any in years. The tourist industry is very grateful."

"Are the odds still even against me showing up for the match?" Grey asked.

"No, that dog's dead now that you're in the city. Smart money has you at five to one against a triad, but most think you'll chop down by game time. Modifying the conditions is still an option if you want to change your mind."

"Keep looking worried, uncle. Every time that anxious expression of yours appears on the media, I gain another ten-points on the side."

"What's that you're saying?" Tey asked, stepping off the elevator with a medical bag under her arm.

"Grey's expressing confidence in Sunday's match," Roger told her.

"The match or the wagering?" Tey said. "I have sources, too, you know. Are a few hundred thousand credits really worth this much trouble?"

"We've got twenty million credits placed," Roger updated, checking to make sure the hotel staff couldn't overhear them. "If Grey wins, we'll have enough to place a bid on the XL-3."

Grey laughed, even though he knew he shouldn't.

"Okay, young man, you had better explain that," Tey demanded.

"Through various international sources, we now have fifty million credits placed," Grey corrected. "And I've wagered ten million of my personal funds that I'll show up for the match under the announced conditions and another ten that I beat the timer."

Roger went pale, seeking a chair to sit down.

"Grey, do you realize how much seventy million credits are?" Tey asked.

"Not as much as three-hundred million, last time I checked," he answered.

Tey didn't know what to say to that.

After an elaborate lunch that included a very expensive wine, they settled in to watch the Black Sash games on the giant vid screen, Grey making notes on his scoring pad.

The first two days of the games were often the hardest, twenty teams paired off in a single elimination tournament where they faced similarly preprogrammed battle scenarios. The teams scoring the most points moved to the next round but also faced greater danger as the power of the weaponry increased. The final rounds would be full live fire.

Grey left the suite each day at three o'clock to excercise in the hotel gym, then returned in time to see the last few matches. By Tuesday afternoon, the Homeland teams had been eliminated, Air Force and the Marines had two teams each, and Navy and Army still had three teams each. The smart money was moving to Army because of its experience, though Navy was given a chance.

Wednesday and Thursday saw the round-robin phase of the tournament, the teams challenging ever more difficult battle scenarios. Now the training Kris had provided began to show, and Grey noticed many of the tactics he had learned on the moon being employed, especially in the aggressive forward positions. The Marines and Air Force scored well against the robotic weapons but were unable to match the higher point totals of their competitors.

The end of the round-robin produced four finalists, two Army teams and two Navy teams. Navy's best showing in many years. Navy's hopes stayed bright when one of their teams survived the semi-finals, leaving them competing against Army in the championship round.

"Here it is, Grey," Roger said as they entered the arena at Worden Stadium following the Friday afternoon semi-finals. The hall, which had held thousands of spectators only an hour before, was largely empty now, most of the activity being clean-up in preparation for Saturday's final matches.

While Gott and his team visited the security office, Grey and Roger walked down the aisle to access the floor area through a sturdy protective hatch. A dual-purpose stadium also used for concerts and basketball, Grey estimated there was seating for sixty thousand people.

"The entire combat area is shielded," Roger pointed out. "A hundred and ninety feet long, ninety feet wide. Those steel-glass walls are an inch thick, and when they fold down to protect the audience, they'll rise fifty feet high. The programming provides dozens of different combat scenarios. Don't underestimate the live fire program, that's why they insist on a dead man switch."

"Will you be here long?" one of the stadium employees asked, anxious to finish cleaning.

"I'll only need a few minutes," Grey said.

He knelt down, opened his equipment bag, and took out weights that he strapped to his wrists and ankles. Then he laid a weighted vest over his shoulders. A metal disk simulated the weight of an energy shield on his left forearm, and he carried a pistol shaped flashlight instead of a weapon in his right hand.

As reporters and onlookers gathered, Grey walked out to a blue circle in the middle of the arena and raised five fingers. Five obelisks rose up from the floor, two at the east end, two at the west end, and one in the middle, each three meters high, slightly under two meters wide, and half a meter thick. Made of black carbo-steel, the barriers were impervious to the weapons used in the contests. Grey paced off the length of the arena and backed up against the walls in several places, judging distances and angles. Then he began a slow dance, moving in and out of the protective barriers, kicking off the walls, then spinning, skipping and hopping.

"Major Vandebrown, is this typical of Waters' training style?" a reporter asked.

"Hell if I know," Roger said, having no clue what Grey was doing. And a little embarrassed, for it looked like nothing more than a parody of a real training program.

After twenty minutes, Grey walked off the floor and accepted a drink of water from Gott.

"Governor! What do you expect to accomplish?" a journalist asked.

"Is this combat or ballet?" someone else shouted, causing many to laugh.

"You're a fraud!" a particularly bold spectator yelled.

Grey ignored them, leaving the arena without comment.

"There you have it," journalist Jude Roberts said to his national audience. "Grey Waters made his first appearance at Worden Stadium today, pranced around for a few minutes, and then left without testing any of the drills. Is it over-confidence, or is he making a mockery of these games?"

An hour later, Grey and his entourage were back at the Harbor Queen watching the latest vid coverage. After the reports became repetitive, they moved outside to the penthouse balcony.

"Haven't seen Atlantic City this busy since the Embargo Wars ended," Roger marveled, watching the crowded streets. "Going out tonight? You haven't socialized since we got here."

"I hadn't planned on it," Grey replied. "Given my recent press, I may not be very welcome."

"You should still go," Tey urged. "Simon will watch your back."

"If you want, I can show you where the Navy does their partying," Roger encouraged. "Maybe there's someone there you'd like to hook up with."

"Call it doctor's orders, if you want," Tey hinted.

"I suppose a small amount of socialization won't hurt. And there is an errand that needs attending to," Grey conceded.

"Not to be intrusive, but what were you doing in the arena today? Shouldn't you have been practicing?" Roger said.

"I was visualizing the contest. It's a technique Master Shao taught me. To see myself in victory."

"And? Did you see yourself winning?" Tey asked.

"Yes, I did," Grey answered.

__________

Grey entered the Saucy Wench Restaurant and Bar just after ten o'clock, the nightclub located far out on the end of Atlantic City's longest pier. A Navy favorite, squeezing through the door was difficult until he began to be recognized. Acting as bodyguard, Simon Gott also raised eyebrows.

Several tables arranged in a circle were at the heart of the action. The Black Sash contestants, those eliminated and the four team members still in competition, were the center of attention, and most of the non-participants were enjoying the beverages. Grey noticed Kris and Sheppard sharing a pitcher of red ale and worked his way over. He was halfway across the room when the loud chattering turned to a soft murmur.

"Look who's here!" Lieutenant Thomas shouted, squad leader of Navy's high scoring team. Beside him were teammates Aaron, Fernandez and Stockhauser.

"Congratulations on reaching the finals, Lieutenant," Grey praised. "Your Cougar squad has performed well."

"How would you know? Major Fairfield give you a briefing?" Thomas questioned. The onlookers laughed derisively. Grey could tell the negative publicity had achieved the desired impact.

"I didn't need Major Fairfield to brief me," Grey responded. "I spoke with Army this afternoon. They say that someday you might be almost as good as they are."

"Almost!" Thomas roared as the room exploded with indignation.

Gott rushed forward, but Grey stood his ground without any help. Kris jumped up with Sheppard right behind her trying to avoid a fight. Thomas got there first, pushing people aside to stand in Grey's face. Five inches taller and fifty pounds heavier, Thomas expected Grey to be intimidated. He was disappointed.

"You looking for trouble, runt?" Thomas asked.

"Finding trouble is not one of my difficulties," Grey explained. "But let me ask you a question. Are you really interested in a bar room brawl the night before the finals?"

"Trying to weasel out?" Thomas mocked.

"Specifying options. I suggest we resume this conversation Sunday night. That is, if you're not a yellow gull."

"Yellow gull? Me? You little son of a bitch!" Thomas grunted.

Several arms suddenly grabbed Thomas from behind and dragged him back to his table. Kris guided Grey in the other direction.

"You're outnumbered two hundred to one! What the hell are you thinking?" Kris asked, ordering a booth cleared.

"I came here to see you, not be insulted by some thick-necked bully," Grey complained.

"Thomas is a good man, and a good soldier," Kris insisted.

A moment later, Sheppard joined them without invitation.

"You've long nuts, coming in here and insulting everybody," Sheppard barked. "We only got Thomas to calm down because no one expects you to still be in town Sunday night."

"Such expectations are in error," Grey replied, returning Sheppard's angry gaze. "Rest assured, I shall be here Sunday night to settle old business. With Thomas or any other ridiculous human who chooses to be disagreeable."

"Jesus, Grey, will you calm down?" Kris pleaded. "I've never seen you so ballsy. What's this all about?"

"Sunday's exhibition requires someone to maintain the dead man switch. I don't trust anyone but you," Grey insisted.

"Me?" Kris said. "What about Roger? Or Simon?"

"They don't know my tactics. If they panic and end the match prematurely, it will set back years of planning," Grey persisted. "You're the only one I can rely on. Do you accept?"

"Grey, I don't know," Kris tried to object. "What about--"

"Maybe Senator Tyman will do it? I hear he'll be attending," Grey suggested.

"Fine, okay, I'll do it," Kris agreed. "What's your plan?"

"Three seekers, five spades, standard hardware. And I'll be wearing my Kyoto armor," Grey confirmed.

"What? That's it?" Sheppard butted in.

"The rules of engagement are clear," Grey specified. "Heavy arsenal is forbidden. To exceed the limits would render my exhibition meaningless."

"This is bullshit and you know it," Sheppard doubted. "No one goes five spades against a triad. What's your game? Publicity stunt?"

"Ricky, will you shut the fuck up!" Kris snapped. "Grey, are you sure this is the play? Nothing I don't know about?"

"Straight downfield," he assured her.

Kris gazed deeply into his eyes. There was no deception there.

"Straight downfield," she agreed, reaching to take his hand. Grey took hold, experiencing the thrill of her touch. Enamored by the excitement in her vivid green eyes. He had missed her, and for a moment, Kris seemed to sense how much. Sheppard drew back, a disappointment in his posture that he bravely tried to conceal.

"I shouldn't be interfering with your social activity," Grey decided, noticing hundreds of people looking at them. And many in a rather unfriendly manner. "Perhaps we can meet after the tournament?"

Grey stood up and prepared to leave.

"Congratulations, Commander Sheppard. Your team is going to win tomorrow by eight points," Grey predicted.

"Is that right?" Sheppard said.

"You can bet on it," Grey concluded before disappearing into the crowd.

"So, what's the score? Is he really going for it?" Sheppard asked.

"He's really going for it, Ricky," Kris sighed. "He always was. I don't know what's taken you so long to sight ship."

"Guess we'll know by Sunday," he decided.

__________

The next day, Navy won their first Black Sash tournament in four years. By eight points. As Roger had predicted, the city was wild with celebrations, the noise so loud it carried all the way up to the penthouse balcony where Grey was sitting with a tactical planner in his lap. Along the waterfront, fireworks kept the skyline colorful.

"Quite a show, isn't it?" Tey suggested, taking a seat next to Grey.

"It's strange," Grey replied. "When the human hordes first began to invade Tranquility, I could feel the energy they produced even from a distance. These humans produce significantly more."

"Hordes, Grey? How many were there? Forty?" Tey said with a laugh.

"A great number," he assured.

"And what's it like at Tranquility now? You must think it's very crowded."

"I suppose not. It's just different."

"Looking forward to going home?"

Grey looked out at the brightly lit city, listened to the ruckus from the streets below, then gazed at the harbor. The narrow pier with the nightclub at the end was easily visible, the banners of famous Naval vessels flying from its flagpoles. Somewhere down at the end of that pier Kris was celebrating the victory of her team.

"Home?" Grey said, reflecting on the events of the last few months.

"In Flanders Field, we find our home;

Where poppies grow and skylarks roam;

O'er turf and sod once torn asunder;

Lay valleys now in peaceful slumber;

Here were cannon, gun and sword;

In courage we could not ignore;

And thus our home forever lies;

In Flanders Field,"

"If you're trying to be obscure, you've failed," Tey warned. "One of my ancestors was a Highlander during World War I. In Belgium."

"It's difficult to remember such things, knowing so little of my own history," Grey pondered.

"And whose fault is that, young man?"

The sliding door accessing the suites opened and Roger joined them.

"We've got company," Roger announced.

A moment later, General Vandebrown walked out on the patio and paused to take a deep breath of the cold March air. He was in civilian attire, a casual brown suit that needed pressing.

"Jim! Good to see you!" Tey said, jumping up to give him a hug.

Surprised by his grandfather's sudden appearance, Grey also stood up, but his instinct was to back away. Only habit caused him to hold his ground.

"Hello, sir," Grey acknowledged as James approached to shake hands.

"Good to see you, youngster. Every place I go, seems I keep hearing more stories about you. Each more outrageous than the last. And the most outrageous of all is this match tomorrow. What's the curve?"

"No curve, Dad," Roger said. "Five spades, standard arsenal."

"Don't give me that goddamn crap," James responded. "Look, I'm sorry to have violated your confidence, but with the ass of the whole goddamn world hanging out, there wasn't much choice. Doesn't mean you should dog me."

"You're not dogged," Roger disagreed. "Grey, tell him your plan."

"No," Grey answered.

"No? Well, isn't that goddamn great!" James fumed.

"I've worked too hard to make an ethical breach now," Grey explained.

"Ethical? What the hell does that mean?" James asked.

"Significant wagers are placed on tomorrow's match, sir. To reveal my game plan would compromise those who have invested in my chances," Grey clarified.

"You talk like you really expect to pull this off?" James questioned.

"I have a thousand credits that say I not only knock down all three seekers, but beat the timer, too," Grey said. "Even money."

"Momma Vandebrown didn't raise any blacklights," James dismissed. "I'll be sitting in the scoring box with Larson and Fairfield. We'll talk more after the match. Any objections?"

"No, sir," Grey replied.

"Good. Damn good. Well, you need your rest and I've got a team of army cadets needing a good kick in the butt, so I'm moving on. After this is over, I've got a proposition for you. Keep an open mind."

General Vandebrown shook Grey's hand again, then left as quickly as he came.

"What did he mean?" Grey asked.

"Don't ask me," Roger shrugged. "You won't tell me your plans. Dad doesn't tell me his. I'm starting to feel wheeled out around here."

Grey noticed that Roger's remark was serious, even though he had expressed it in a light-hearted way. It made him feel ungrateful.

"Please sit down, Uncle Roger. You, too, Tey. I have something to show you," Grey decided.

As Tey and Roger gathered around, Grey put his strategic planner on the table and activated the security code.

"I'm going to beat these seekers," Grey assured them, showing them the planning mode. "I'm going to beat them and this is how I'm going to do it."

__________

"Good afternoon viewers at home and around the world," the broadcast announcer said, using Earth's recently reestablished global web to reach an audience beyond the Northern Alliance. "This is Kaibee Rous and we're only minutes from the scheduled match between Grey Waters, visiting Governor of the Moon, and a five spades exhibition here at Worden Stadium in downtown Atlantic City. In the booth with me is Commander Richard Sheppard, coach of Navy's successful team, and yesterday's winners of the coveted Black Sash, Lieutenant Egan Thomas, Ensign Les Aaron, Ensign Robin Fernandez and Ensign Coffey Stockhauser. Congratulations, lady and gentlemen, on your exciting accomplishment."

"Thank you," Sheppard acknowledged on their behalf. "But please don't forget to mention Major Kris Fairfield, our tactical trainer. She's part of the team, too."

The stadium cameras scanned the hall, then focused on the scoring box where Kris was sitting between Tey and General Vandebrown. Nearby sat General Larson, General Smyth, Admiral Trolleni and Senator Leroy Tyman.

"We understand the gate proceeds from this exhibition match are being donated to the Veteran's Survivor Fund, and Governor Waters has dedicated this event to the memory of Lieutenant Glenda Blout, his friend and comrade at Tranquility," Rous revealed.

"We heard that this morning," Sheppard confirmed. "Even if this match falls short of expectations, the funds will be appreciated by hundreds of military families."

"Do you still believe Waters will not appear? Or decline the announced challenge?" Rous asked.

"I don't see how you can reach any other conclusion," Sheppard said, his remark agreed to by the members of Cougar squad.

"It's a trick to show us up," Thomas grouched, leaning over to be heard.

"It must be a hell of a trick, because here he comes," Rous announced.

On the floor of the arena below them, Grey emerged wearing his new Kyoto armor, a bright white suit with blue stripes over the shoulders. Roger walked with him carrying most of the extra equipment. They were greeted with light applause that increased as it appeared there really was going to be a contest.

When they reached the center floor area, Grey stopped to begin arming. Roger helped him strap the oval presentation plate of the energy shield to his left forearm, then connected the converter cables to the recharger attached to his belt. Grey wore two holsters, one on either hip, with a military grade Marsden laser blaster in each. Two more weapons hung in shoulder holsters.

As Grey prepared for battle, a referee inspected the equipment to make sure it met regulations, then signaled to the scoring box that all was in order. Then the referee spoke with Grey on a closed mike for several minutes, Grey nodding from time to time without comment.

"Major Fairfield, the contestant has been informed of the rules," the referee declared, coming to the scoring box with his microphone turned up. "The requested scenario is a triad of seekers, five spades, standard arsenal. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Kris confirmed, feeling her insides quake even as she said it. But when Tey put a comforting hand on her knee, Kris sensed the reassurance. The crowd grew silent, scarcely able to believe the conditions hadn't been amended at the last minute.

"Do you understand how to operate the termination device?" the referee requested, indicating the black box sitting in Kris's lap.

"Yes, I do," Kris answered.

The referee went back for a last word with Grey, then left the arena. A minute later Roger arrived in the scoring box, squeezing in between Kris and General Vandebrown.

"Everything's looking good," Roger confided. "Kris, you understand what's at stake here?"

Kris nodded, unable to answer.

"Faith, dear," Tey consoled. "When Grey fought the sentinel class seekers at Tranquility, he was wounded and worn out. Desperate to save as many survivors as he could. This isn't the same situation."

Kris hoped it was true. The arena enclosures were lowered from the ceiling to protect the spectators while five obelisks rose up from the floor. Two of the obelisks straddled the north end of the arena, two in the south, and one emerged in the middle, the pattern similar to a five of spades playing card. Grey backed up toward the south end between barriers four and five waiting for the seekers to be released.

"Commander Sheppard, what does Waters' strategy have to be to carry this match?" Rous asked for the benefit of the viewing audience.

"He has to maximize resources, Kaibee," Sheppard replied. "It takes more power to knock down three seekers than he's carrying. Somehow he needs to overcome that dilemma without being disabled."

"How do you think he'll do that?" Rous questioned.

"He won't!" Ensign Aaron interrupted, leaning forward from the rear bench. "He'll screw around, then call it off. It's all about publicity!"

"He's a fake!" Stockhauser shouted.

It looked like Aaron had more to say, and Ensign Fernandez as well, but Sheppard held up his hand. Black Sash winners sat back, forced to stifle their opinions.

"Waters has a reputation in some circles as a skilled soldier," Sheppard said, choosing his words carefully. "He may have a plan to defeat the scenario. If so, this will be a very enlightening exhibition."

On the floor of the arena, Grey noticed the lights go down in the stands and the sound of the spectators was filtered out. The scoreboard activated.

"The game is afoot," Grey whispered.

Three sentinel class J-9000 seekers appeared through the north gate, the armored flying spheres bobbing on hover jets while slowly pushing forward on rear thruster jets. Alternating use of the weaker flank jets, the seekers were able to sway from side to side. The forward weapons portals were open, the powerful yellow tinted pulse emitters ready to target their opponent. Designated D, E and F, Grey could read their nicknames painted on the outer shielding; Diver, Easy and Foxtrot.

To conserve converter power, Grey waited to activate his energy shield. The seekers would need to swing around barrier three to reach him. If they came to his left flank, he could meet them shield first. If they came right flank, he'd be weapons first.

The seekers crept forward in a tight group, reached the barrier in the middle of the arena, then hesitated before splitting up, Diver swinging to Grey's shield flank while Easy and Foxtrot looped wide to his right. Conventional wisdom dictated he fall back behind barrier four, shield off the left flanker, and ward off the right flankers with weapons while using the wall to guard his back.

Grey attacked.

Easy and Foxtrot opened fire as Grey charged, the energy pulses bursting off his shield and armor in blinding showers of fiery red sparks. Then Grey returned fire, the Marsden discharging concentrated laser pulses that tore into the seekers' protective shielding. Foxtrot was instantly damaged, Easy veered off on full thrusters.

"Wow!" Sheppard yelled, jumping from his seat as thousands were doing the same thing.

"What?! What happened?!" Rous shouted.

"Waters has reconfigured his Marsden with double charges," Sheppard answered. "They'll burn power at triple the rate but foul easily."

"It's crazy!" Thomas insisted.

"Crazy like a fox," Sheppard observed. "Look at those seekers give ground!"

Facing hot fire from Grey's doubled-charged weapon, the first two seekers retreated. Grey spun around to meet Diver bearing down on his rear and fired, forcing it to veer off. He quickly ejected the power pack, used up another three shots instead of the usual eight, and slapped in another cartridge even as he pursued the lone seeker, firing again as it reached center arena.

Diver gained altitude and fired back, hitting Grey's shield hard. Grey returned fire until the weapon fouled, then threw it back in the corner toward barrier four and drew a fresh one. The seeker rolled right to turn Grey's shield flank, but Grey broke in the opposite direction, hitting Easy and Foxtrot as they reformed. Foxtrot took another hit and began leaking hot gases, then Easy was hit, too, but the seeker dropped down and struck back at point blank range, blistering Grey's armor until black bubbled streaks showed where the seams were fracturing. Grey was forced to retreat, finding temporary cover behind barrier five. There he fired, reloaded, and fired again, each shot finding a target.

The atmosphere in the arena was growing hot, a steamy mist filling the south end. Many onlookers were being forced to shield their eyes from the intensity of the bright flashes.

Down to three power packs, Grey checked his firearm and declined to reload, throwing the expended weapon into the southwest corner and drawing a new one, then rolled around barrier five and ran along the east wall, drawing the seekers out into the open. He stopped halfway and opened fire, hitting each seeker in turn before charging the middle barrier.

The bold maneuver was unexpected but quickly met by his adversaries. Grey's shield was pounded, draining converter power nearly fifty percent, and his armor was ripped on the right side, a hissing sound indicating that environmental integrity had been breached.

Grey let his momentum carry him forward and performed a spin, skip and hop while firing at Easy before it could evade the move. When the bolt tore through a crack in the plating and ignited the fuel cells, the seeker burst into flames and crashed into barrier one, thick clouds of black smoke filling the north end of the arena.

A cheer went up that Grey couldn't hear, nor did he have time to enjoy the victory. He was quickly hit from two sides, his converter cables shredded and environmental support pack blown open. He spun, turned, and danced away from the threat before stopping to target Foxtrot, then Diver, causing both seekers to back off. Then he ran in the opposite direction as fast as he could, taking shelter behind barrier four. There he paused while gasping for breath, instructing the damaged suit for an injection of stimulants.

"One seeker destroyed, the other two damaged. He's doing great, isn't he?" Rous asked, her voice sharing the crowd's excitement.

"Hardly," Sheppard replied. "He's got some moves, no doubt about that. But his armor's busted, the shield won't last another minute with his converters off-line, and he only has two weapons left. If a seeker slips a bouncer through that cracked armor, Waters could be killed instantly. In my opinion, this match should be stopped right now."

Kris couldn't help thinking the same thing. Sitting in the scoring box, she watched with growing apprehension as Grey's resources dwindled to critical levels. She looked at General Vandebrown, who shared her concern, then to Roger, who smiled. It wasn't the most confident smile, but enough to give her hope.

Grey reorganized his remaining equipment, cutting loose his belts and one of the holsters, then he adjusted the damaged converters. With the environmental support pack leaking, he dumped it to the side and opened his helmet's visor to breathe.

Unwilling to approach from the center again, the seekers formed along the east wall, skirted barrier five and tried to reach Grey from the rear. He jumped up and shifted to the other side of barrier four while exchanging fire. One shot stuck Foxtrot's underplate, knocking the maintenance cover loose, but a return pulse hit Grey so hard it blew through the shield and cracked the armor on his left arm. Converter power dropped to zero.

Grey wasted no time dropping the useless shield and running for the middle barrier. The seekers followed and swung wide, only to lose Grey when he bypassed barrier three and leaped through the cloud of smoke swirling up from the burning seeker where visuals were obscured.

The seekers slowed to a hover even as Grey made a tight turn around barrier one and charged back into the middle with a weapon in each hand, twirling, skipping and dancing between the startled enemies as he fired several bursts.

"What's that? What's he doing?" Rous shouted, leaping from her seat.

Sixty thousand others were doing the same, everyone on their feet as Grey attacked two seekers without an energy shield for protection.

"I don't know," Sheppard wondered, also excited by the daring maneuver. "Some sort of flying Dutchman. Bold as hell, I'll tell you that."

After receiving several hits, the seekers powered down and away, then struck back as Grey passed between them and kept going. He quickly ducked behind barrier three in the middle, then ran diagonally toward barrier four, finding shelter as the seekers regrouped. There he was forced to discard a fouled Marsden and checked his last weapon to make sure it hadn't been damaged.

"Kris, maybe we should stop the match?" General Vandebrown whispered.

"No dishonor," Larson agreed. "He's put up a great fight. But look. He's got nothing left."

"No. Grey knows what he's doing," Kris told them.

Even as she said it, Kris was shocked to see Grey pause at the barrier and press a trigger on the damaged armor. In an instant, a series of tiny explosive bolts blew the armor apart at the seams, allowing him to shake off the loose pieces. All he wore underneath was long cotton underwear and a cloth belt with several small pouches. Then he glanced around the barrier looking for the seekers.

"They've got to stop this!" Sheppard yelled. "What's wrong with them? Who's on the dead man switch?"

"Major Kris Fairfield," Rous confirmed.

"Damn it, Kris should know better. She's going to get this kid killed," Sheppard proclaimed. Behind him, the Black Sashes fell into silence, watching as Grey prepared to charge the damaged seekers without armor or an energy shield.

Grey didn't make his charge immediately. First he dug into a pouch, found a medical patch, and stuck it to his neck, feeling an adrenalin rush that helped push aside the growing fatigue. Then he dropped the cloth belt on the floor amid the pile of discarded equipment.

The seekers were stationed before barrier three. Grey moved left, then cut across their front hoping to draw Foxtrot out of position. And the movement worked. Foxtrot shifted right to cut Grey off, allowing him to gain position behind Diver and use the seeker as a screen.

For a moment, it seemed a pointless gambit. Diver rotated to fire at Grey, who just barely managed to duck the blast, then Grey boosted the power on his Marsden to maximum and charged, firing point blank into Diver's arsenal from less than three meters away. The seeker exploded.

The audience shrieked as the fireball curled up from the center of the arena. Thrown backward, Grey bounced head over heels before tumbling hard against barrier five. When he slowly got to his knees, the spectators saw him covered in blood, the red splotches soaking through dozens of spots on his chest and shoulders. His weapon lay back near the fire, engulfed in burning fuel. Kris caught her breath and prepared to activate the dead man switch, then stopped. She knew that wasn't what he wanted.

"It's okay, Kris," Tey whispered, showing her the long-range medical scanner in her lap. "They're only pinpricks. He expected this."

"Expected this?" Kris replied. "How in hell could anyone ...?"

As the smoke cleared, it became obvious the remaining seeker had been damaged, Foxtrot's proximity to the blast having torn the side canopy apart and shut down the port flank jet.

Grey paused, checked himself for injuries, and then retreated toward barrier four as the seeker tried to compensate for the missing thruster.

"Amazing," Sheppard relented, retaking his seat.

"Don't they have to end the match now?" Rous inquired. "Waters is wounded. No armor. No weapons. Isn't he a wringed goose?"

"I don't know," Sheppard speculated, studying the battlefield closely. "Waters' wounds look superficial. The shrapnel was directed away from him, much as I think he planned. He used the exploding seeker as a weapon against the other. Never seen anyone do that before."

"But Waters lost his only weapon!" Rous shouted.

"Did he?" Sheppard questioned.

Others soon saw what Sheppard had already noticed. A pile of expended weapons and power packs lay in the southeast corner of the arena. Grey limped to the area, dropped down behind barrier four, and picked up the cloth belt to retrieve a packet of small hand tools. Then he got busy, grabbing one firearm, then another, popping the covers off and pulling out parts that weren't burned or fouled, assembling a new weapon with enough working parts to be effective. Then he gathered several of the partially expended power packs, patched them into the converter, and expelled the residual energy into the Marsden.

"Maximization of resources," Sheppard muttered under his breath.

"What's that?" Rous asked.

"He's making a weapon out of the spare parts. Probably not a very effective weapon, but it's extending his resources. It's exactly what he needed to do."

"Is it enough?" Rous questioned.

Kris was worrying about the same thing, but Grey was soon back on his feet, peering around the barrier with the makeshift blaster in his hand. When Foxtrot became visible just beyond the middle barrier, Grey ran to barrier five and turned along the east wall again, forcing the seeker to loop wide for positioning. Grey cut across the floor, disappeared behind barrier two, continued on to barrier one, then stopped and waited for the seeker to make a commitment. Unable to turn inward toward Grey because of the damaged wing thruster, the seeker was forced to swing out wide and around.

Grey charged, firing twice. The second blast tore Foxtrot's belly hatch off entirely, exposing the programming array. One more hit and the seeker's controls would be fused, but when Grey acquired target, the mechanism fouled. The seeker veered off, then started around for an attack run.

"Kris, stop the match!" General Vandebrown pleaded. "Quick, push the switch! Kris! Kris!"

Hundreds of other voices were screaming the same thing as Grey threw the useless weapon aside and dove for the middle barrier, then ducked around as the seeker tried to target him.

"It's over! It's over!" Sheppard yelled, once again on his feet. "Why aren't they stopping this?"

"Roger, what should I do?" Kris asked.

"Steady, Kris, Grey's still on plan," Roger replied.

"On plan? How the fuck can this be a plan?"

Grey hunched down behind barrier three, put another medical patch on his neck, and struggled for a deep breath. The spectators quickly realized he wasn't panicking. There was no fear. What the audience saw was patience.

"It's not over," Sheppard realized.

"Why? What's he going to do?" Rous pressed.

"Damned if I know, but he's got something going. He's watching. Waiting. I've got a hunch he's planned for this moment all along."

Even as Sheppard was speculating on the possible strategy, Grey was watching the damaged seeker turn along the west wall, then cross to the other side. The seeker continued to loop around, only to discover Grey had shifted back to the other side of the obelisk. Frustration mode caused the seeker to curl in close, creeping up on the barrier from an angle where it offered Grey no protection. Grey considered retreating to barrier four, but a glance at the time clock caused him to hold position. Though there was no penalty for overrunning the timer, he wanted badly to end the scenario within the standard sequence. And he only had two minutes left.

Grey jumped up, feinted right, then left. The seeker used the starboard wing jet to edge out and fire, the blast sheering off the side of the barrier in bright yellow sparks. Grey ducked back, then ran around the opposite side of the obelisk and charged just as the seeker started to climb away. At the last moment, he jumped and reached for the maintenance panel, grabbing hold of the stabilization handle with his left hand.

The seeker ignited rear thrusters trying to shake Grey loose, but his weight pulled the enemy down until his feet skipped against the floor. When the seeker reached the south end of the arena, it turned sharply and slammed Grey against the wall, but he managed to keep his grip, then reach for the stabilization handle with his right hand to secure his hold. Grey found his footing again, then dragged the seeker down and twisted sideways, swinging around until the seeker crashed against barrier five.

Grey freed a hand to find the emergency shutdown even as the seeker was dragging him back toward the center. A quick punch of the power switches primed the deactivation sequence. A second punch initiated the procedure, causing the hover jets to shut down. When the rear thruster suddenly cut off, the seeker abruptly dropped dead to the floor with a bang and began rolling, flopping Grey over and over until he managed to let go. As the seeker caromed off barrier three and came to a halt near the west retaining wall, Grey scrambled after it to make sure the weapons array was offline. A quick flip of a switch and the seeker was deactivated.

The time clock still showed twenty-five seconds left. The five obelisks dropped down into the floor, leaving only Grey and the remains of the three smoldering seekers. The blue finish circle was just a few meters away from where obelisk three had stood. Grey tried to get up, found his knees weak, and crawled instead, stumbling into the circle with five seconds to spare.

The protective barriers surrounding the arena rose up, revealing thunderous applause. Grey noticed the commotion but didn't feel like responding. The medical patches had given him a boost, but now the fatigue was leaving him drained. He sat back on his rear end struggling for breath and sought the balance that Master Shao had urged on him. A shaking in his hands belatedly revealed his confidence had been less than pretended.

The moment the scoring box opened, Kris leaped over the front row of seats down into the arena just has hundreds of others were doing. Pandemonium ensued, the noise so loud Grey looked up with concern.

"Are you okay, lover?" Kris asked, reaching Grey first.

"Adequate," he assured her, surprised to find so many people suddenly crowding around. Several of the boldest lifted Grey up on their shoulders and carried him around the blue circle as the audience continued to provide an ovation. Grey was initially dazed by the demonstration, but as he began to appreciate the crowd's enthusiasm, he managed to smile.

"That's enough!" Dr. Meriwether intervened, backed up by Simon Gott and his security team.

Grey was lowered and helped toward the locker room under the stands where a group of reporters were waiting in the corridor to ask questions. One particular questioner in a bright red jacket stood out.

"Grey Waters, you've just fought the most terrific battle in Black Sash history! What are you going to do now?" the woman asked, holding up a microphone.

"I'm taking a night at Disney's Palace," Grey declared, being sure to look directly into the vid cam. Clinging to Grey's hand in the crush, Kris was amazed at the blatant commercializing. Then she realized he had probably just made an extra hundred thousand credits.

Squeezing down the hall into the locker room, Grey was put on an examination table. At first the attendants tried to make him lay down, but he insisted on sitting. Tey pulled off the bloody undershirt and cut off the leggings before starting to swab the tiny wounds with a sterilizer. Another doctor gave him puffs off an oxygen tank, then applied painkillers. Kris was glad to see the injuries were superficial, just as Tey had predicted.

The locker room continued to fill with spectators, military personnel, and reporters. The aggressive media reporter Jenny Oliver was granted precedence, gaining a spot near the table with Gott's help.

"Governor Waters, congratulations!" Oliver bellowed over the mob.

"Thank you, Miss Oliver," Grey acknowledged, getting his breath back.

"Any comments on the match?" Oliver asked.

"I would like to thank NA High Command for allowing me to participate, and Kyoto of Japan for the excellent armor. And though the match may have appeared dangerous, I would like to emphasize it was carefully planned, and in no way reflects on the regular games. I did not face securatrons or a vulture in this match, nor cope with mines. The young soldiers who face these obstacles are rightfully due the great credit they're awarded."

Grey's gracious remarks received many cheers. Soon Roger and his father arrived, General Vandebrown immediately wrapping an arm around Grey's shoulder.

"Ladies and gentlemen," James called out. "Everybody quiet down. I wasn't going to make this announcement for another few weeks, but my excitement is so great that I can't wait any longer. Roger has told me, and DNA reports have confirmed, that Grey Waters is the child of my son, the late Colonel Jaime Vandebrown. My grandson. And I could not be prouder."

A stunned moment of silence was followed by applause, especially when General Smyth joined Vandebrown to shake his hand. General Larson started passing out cigars.

Grey tried to suppress his surprise, concerned the announcement was not just premature, but could endanger his plan to buy the XL-3. He was quickly even more surprised.

"Make way," a team of Secret Service agents said, pushing to make room. Grey saw the crowd part and Senator Leroy Tyman emerged holding one of Larson's cigars.

"Congratulations, Waters. Hell of a fight," Tyman praised, shaking Grey's hand as the vid-cams recorded the historic moment. "Ladies and gentlemen, I think it's time our alliance recognizes some very special qualities in this young man that we've all been too stubborn to admit."

Tyman reached into his pocket, held a gold disk on a purple ribbon up for the press to photograph, then turned to Grey.

"Grey Waters," Tyman continued in his most official voice, "in recognition of heroism above and beyond the call of duty in rescuing NA forces during the invasion of the moon, and saving countless lives in the destruction of the rogue asteroid X40, I'm pleased to present you with this Congressional Medal of Valor, and with it, honorary citizenship in the Northern Alliance."

Tyman stepped forward to drape the medal around Grey's neck, shook his hand, and stepped back. Again, Grey heard cheers, which he was now beginning to find tiresome. His rump hurt, but he had no desire to strip naked before the crowd to have it treated.

"Thank you, Senator Tyman," Grey accepted. And though he knew the award was meant to curry favor now that the election was only two weeks away, he nevertheless felt humbled to receive it. Such an honor was something he had not expected. Kris pushed back to his side, giving him a hug, and Grey drew her down for a kiss, enjoying the soft touch of her lips.

"Congratulations, Grey," Roger smiled, shaking his hand.

"Does this mean our negotiations are going well?" Grey whispered. Roger winked, which Grey was willing to assume meant yes.

Suddenly the whole room went silent. Even Grey sensed a sudden gravity that the previous proceedings lacked. The crowd moved aside, but without prodding, and four young soldiers entered the locker room wearing their best Navy dress uniforms. They were the Black Sash winners from the day before, the ones who had not been shy in criticizing Grey's exhibition as a fraud.

Thomas came first, then Fernandez, Aaron, and Stockhauser. Sheppard entered behind them, stopping at the door as his team reached the examination table.

The four halted, came to attention, and saluted. Grey looked up, unsure what to do. But no action on his part proved necessary. One by one, the youngsters untied their hard-won Black Sashes from around their waists and laid them across Grey's lap. Then they snapped to attention again, offered a final salute, and left the locker room.

The room stayed quiet. Grey had never experienced such an honor, and Kris could see his eyes were getting misty.

"That's enough for now," Tey announced, waving her arms. "I have a patient to examine. You have final ceremonies to conduct. Go do your jobs and let me do mine."

Gott took the cue and quickly cleared the room of all except Kris, the Vandebrowns, and the doctors.

"Tyman was right, that was a hell of a fight," James complimented.

"Will we clear enough to bid on the XL-3?" Grey asked.

"More than enough," Roger confirmed.

"Which you'll have the exclusive right to buy," James assured him. "Made sure of that before I let Tyman in the room."

"You men can talk shop later. I want privacy here," Tey demanded, looking into Grey's eyes and removing the stimulant patches on his neck. The moment she did, Grey lay back in sudden exhaustion.

"Of course, but we still need that talk. Right grandson?" James requested.

"Yes, grandfather," Grey agreed.

"Can I stay?" Kris asked.

"Sorry, Kris dear. I would really like to perform an examination without any distractions," Tey apologized.

"Maybe we can meet at the Wench later?" Kris asked. "Grey?"

"Too late, dear. He'll be out for at least an hour," Tey informed.

Realizing that Grey had fallen asleep, Kris held his hand for a moment, then left to see the closing ceremonies.

___________

Though thousands were leaving the city once the official festivities were over, many Black Sash participants remained in town for one last night of comradeship. Kris entered the Saucy Wench Sunday evening and took a seat at her usual table, greeting dozens of familiar faces. Vid screens all around the tavern were showing replays of the Black Sash games, most featuring Grey's exhibition match. There were no snickering remarks now.

"Hi, Kris," Rymae waved, taking a seat next to her. Soon Thomas and Stockhauser joined the ladies.

"Hey, Coffey," Rymae greeted, giving the strapping ensign a big smile. "Bringing a pitcher of beer, too? A double bonus."

Stockhauser laughed and sat next to her. Thomas sat across from Kris and poured her a glass of Eagle Claw.

"Thanks, Egan," Kris appreciated. "That was quite a tribute, giving up your sash. Don't know if you could tell, but I think Grey was getting drippy."

"It was the only way we could apologize," Thomas explained. "Would you mind if the others join us?"

"Of course not," Kris answered, waving Fernandez and Aaron over. Before long other members from the Mugu facility were crowding around sharing stories and bemoaning their betting losses.

"You tried to warn us," Fernandez muttered. "Wish I'd been a better listener."

"No one could have foreseen that. Even the smart money laid down at five to one, and they never lose," Rymae recalled.

"Yeah? How much did you drop?" Aaron asked.

"Drop? You fool, I bet the longshot and won three hundred credits," Rymae smiled. "But don't ask me to buy dinner. I already spent it on this dress."

"And a very nice dress it is," Stockhauser grinned, reaching for her hand under the table.

"There!" Fernandez shouted, pointing at the monitor. "That's the moment I saw my credits vanish!"

They looked up at the nearest vid screen, seeing Grey's brutally damaged armor suddenly explode off him, restoring his mobility at a time the seekers were wearing down.

"Me, too," Thomas lamented. "When I realized he was going to fight them in his underwear and planned it that way from the beginning, I knew he was going to win."

"Damn right," Sheppard told them, coming up to the crowded table and grabbing a chair from a junior officer. "Glad I covered my bets in time."

"You did what?" Fernandez asked.

"Covered my bets Friday night after Waters almost went foreheads with Egan," Sheppard explained. "Figured anyone with cannonballs like that wasn't going to back down. Not for anything. And he sure as hell wasn't going to lose. Had no idea how he expected to pull it off, but I'll be damned if I was going to get caught with my dick hanging out."

"My dick is hanging out," Aaron said.

"Mine, too," Stockhauser added.

"Don't worry, I covered you buttheads," Sheppard confided. "Maybe not for all of it, but enough."

"Thanks, Ricky. You're always a step ahead of us," Stockhauser said.

"This time," Sheppard agreed.

A shout went up as the vid screens showed Grey grabbing the fleeing seeker and drag it to ground. The blood soaking through his cotton underwear showed brightly on the monitors.

"I thought that vid from Tranquility was just an overblown cut and hack. Now that I've seen him in action, I'm thinking it's just a tree in the forest," Stockhauser mentioned.

"How about it, Kris?" Rymae asked.

"Grey puts it all out there, no doubt about that," Kris agreed.

"Can't say he didn't give it full fly," Thomas said, watching the end of the vid where Grey crawled into the finish circle.

"And if we learn anything from this match, let's remember that," Sheppard lectured. "Never assume we know the cards before they're played. Waters didn't stumble into victory. He worked hard. Trained hard. Planned what he wanted to do and then executed. Textbook all the way."

"Becoming a fan?" Rymae teased.

"Just because Waters and I have competing interests doesn't mean I don't respect him," Sheppard replied, looking over at Kris. "No one gets better playing a weaker opponent."

"Yeah? Better watch your game, Ricky," Rymae warned.

The tavern suddenly grew quiet as a sharp-eyed bartender turned all the vid monitors off. Everyone looked around, then toward the door. Dressed in a casual khaki work suit, Grey entered and sheepishly accepted nods from the many surprised patrons. Rymae jumped from her seat, worked through the crowded tables, and brought Grey over to their group.

"Congratulations," Sheppard said first.

Grey remained standing for a moment, then reached into a shoulder bag and took out four black sashes.

"I appreciate the gesture, but there are others here who have earned these honors far more than I have," Grey offered, handing each sash back to its original owner. "I also wish to apologize for distracting attention from your achievement. It was never my ambition."

"Thank you, Governor," Thomas replied, speaking for all of them. "Just what was that all about, anyway? You sure don't need the practice."

"I needed to raise funds," Grey said, taking the seat that Rymae was offering. "As Northern Alliance financial institutions have been slow to recognize lunar credits, it seemed the only way."

"Hell of a way to make a buck," Aaron laughed.

"If my activity has resulted in unwarranted financial difficulties, I would like to make amends," Grey proposed. "Having speculated successfully, my cash flow is adequate to reimburse your losses."

"Ricky covered us, but we appreciate that," Thomas answered. "How much did you win?"

"Personally?" Grey asked, feeling the institutional funds dedicated to the XL-3 program weren't really his.

"Yes, personally," Rymae pressed.

"I'm not sure. I understand there is a disagreeable breed of humans called deadbeats who may not honor their obligations, but my agent believes the final total will exceed twenty-five million credits."

The listeners gasped. Many choked on their beers. Several of the females looked at Grey with a bold interest. And it wasn't the wealth that had their attention.

"I guess we know who's buying the next round," Stockhauser suggested.

"And dinner," Fernandez chimed in.

Grey smiled. The first time most of them had seen him smile. Many were amazed to find him so genial. Grey glanced toward the bar, got the tavern keeper's attention, and gave a thumbs up. Almost instantly, additional servers entered carrying dinner trays packed with food.

"Open bar, ladies and gentlemen, compliments of the Governor of the Moon," the head bartender announced. "And there's plenty more slop where this came from."

The servers moved among the tables carrying shrimp, crab, and lobster.

"That's nice. It's damn nice," Sheppard remarked.

Grey looked at Kris, and others quickly got the message, making enough space to give them a modest element of privacy.

"I'm awful proud of you, moonman," Kris said, giving him a kiss.

"Once again I'm in your debt. Thank you for not ending the exhibition prematurely."

"Wasn't worried for a minute. Figured it was just another of your stupid stunts. Hell, you're always risking your neck for some fool reason."

"So I've been advised."

"What's next? Headed back to Tranquility?"

"Not immediately. My grandfather has made an unexpected offer. I wanted to talk with you before making a decision."

"Sure, what's up?" Kris asked, unable to remember Grey ever asking her for personal advice.

"My grandfather feels the Earth governments might be more inclined to accept my participation against the invasion if I were formally trained. I've been offered a two-year special assignment at the military academy of my choice. And exceptions will be made to accommodate my unusual responsibilities."

"You'd stay here? On Earth? For two years!" Kris said loud enough that Sheppard, Rymae, and many others couldn't resist returning to hear the details.

"I know it sounds strange, but the concept is logical," Grey admitted. "Most of my training is in small arms. I have few of the organizational skills needed to guide large groups of humans. What do you think?"

"It's a great idea," Kris urged. "It's exactly what you need to-- that is, you'll really like it. And it would be good for us. I could stay with Space Command, and we'd see each other all the time."

"If you approve, then I'll give the proposal serious consideration. My grandfather is hoping to receive a response at Roger's wedding. He can be very demanding."

"Must run in the family," Kris laughed. "Guys, did you hear? Grey is going to stay around for a while. Get formal training in the military arts."

"I suspect you'll be doing more teaching than learning," Rymae said. "Did I hear you have your choice? Any academy you want?"

"That's my understanding," Grey acknowledged.

"Don't worry. My best years were at Annapolis. You're going to love it," Kris assured him.

"And we know all the best places to eat," Rymae added.

"Not to mention the best professors," Thomas said. "You'll buzz through a two-year assignment among the high foam."

Grey looked at them in surprise, then embarrassment.

"What? What's wrong, Grey?" Kris asked.

"I neglected to mention. The academy I'm considering is West Point," he clarified.

"The Jackasses! You'd rather be a mud-donkey than a sea bird?" Stockhauser questioned.

"No one goes army unless they have to. Why degrade yourself?" Fernandez said.

"My father graduated second in his class from West Point," Grey recalled. "My grandfather and his father also attended the institution. It seems appropriate."

The group settled down, nodding their understanding. Many were in awe that Grey's family had such a long military tradition.

"Fourth generation army. No one can argue with a legacy like that," Sheppard conceded, speaking for everyone.

"A toast," Rymae offered, raising her glass. "To friends. Past, present, and future."

"Here, here," Thomas shouted, leading the chant.

"Hey, Governor," Stockhauser asked. "Every year Army and Navy have a special tradition. Do you ever bet on football?"

Epilogue

A JOURNEY ENDS

On a cold April morning, Grey, Roger, and General James Vandebrown stood along the bank of Bush Creek with fishing rods in their hands. The Colorado sky was blue, birds chirped in the tall trees, and signs of spring showed in the young green grass and yellow flowers.

"You're mighty calm for someone about to get married in a few hours," James said, adjusting a vest holding extra lures.

"I just look calm, Dad," Roger replied. "There's still enough time for Tey to change her mind."

James laughed. Grey hardly seemed to pay attention as he adjusted the colorful fly tied at the end of his fishing line. James thought he seemed preoccupied by something.

"Youngster, you'd have a better chance at the trout if you put a hook on that fly," James suggested.

"We'll see," Grey answered, walking a little farther downstream and stepping into the ice-cold water. Protected by wading boots, Grey seemed fascinated by the buffeting of the fast-running creek.

"We'll see? What does that mean?" James whispered to Roger.

"Remember the biography, Dad?" Roger whispered back. "Grey's first friend was the fish he rescued from Tranquility's medical lab. The first living creature he ever saw. Just because he agreed to come fishing with us doesn't mean he wants to catch anything."

James understood, recalling that grim detail from Grey's childhood. He subtly broke the hook off his lure before the next cast. Roger noticed the gesture and did the same.

"I'm very pleased you selected West Point, Grey," James mentioned. "Just the kind of formal training you need."

"I believe you're correct," Grey replied. "Maybe this experience will give me the ties of family and friends I need to be less daring, instilling a sense of belonging that I otherwise lack. It may even curtail my reckless behavior."

Roger and James looked at each other in astonishment, and not a little embarrassment.

"How long have you known?" Roger asked.

"Ridiculous human. I knew the moment you tried drawing me down to Earth for the Black Sash games. Even a minor computer could have fathomed so transparent a scheme," he replied.

"So, we're transparent, are we?" James questioned.

"Yes, grandfather. And I'm honored that you think me worth the effort," Grey answered.

"Boy, I swear to God I never know what you might say next," James confided, giving Grey's shoulders a hug. "Soon as we've got the newlyweds packed off, I think we should spend some time together. Visit New York. See your new school. Get to know each other."

"That would be fine, sir, if you don't mind taking a short trip to the moon first."

"The moon!" James exclaimed.

"I have unfinished business with the computers," Grey explained somewhat grimly. "I also have a staff to reorganize, patents to certify, and new trade protocols to sign with several of the minor alliances. I'm sure your presence at the ceremony would be welcome."

"Sure you don't need my help?" Roger asked. "Tey agreed to go back for a year or two."

"I appreciate the sacrifice, uncle, but it's unnecessary," Grey explained. "I've appointed Ted Davis deputy governor. Professor O'Neal from M.I.S.T. is going to manage my engineering department, and Colonel Kimura is taking a leave of absence from Commonwealth Command to work with Security. They'll manage adequately during my absence."

"You really are the Governor of the Moon, aren't you?" James said with some surprise. "Not just a figurehead of those blasted computers. Have you decided how to deal with the Northern Alliance? Kamar was plotting to have you killed, you know."

"We had inside word on that," Roger revealed. "After the confession that Gott squeezed out of Kamar's lackey, I don't think she'll bother us again. She didn't even win reelection."

"I'm not worried about our international relations," Grey dismissed. "An interesting aspect of your curious human interactions is that yesterday's enemies may prove to be tomorrow's friends."

A crunch of dry tree branches caused the three fishermen to look upstream where four men were approaching. Two were secret service agents dressed in hunting jackets and carrying deer rifles. The other two were more familiar, similarly dressed but carrying fishing poles.

"Carlos!" James said, rushing to shake hands with Admiral Trolleni.

"Hello, Senator Tyman. Congratulations on the elections," Roger greeted, giving the Council Director a firm handshake.

"Could have been worse," Tyman admitted, meeting Roger's inquiring glance before looking at Grey. "Fairfield and her independents got their 45%, but we kept control of the House. Should make things interesting. Isn't that right, Grey?"

"You'll maintain your majority for now, Roy," Grey replied, sounding pleased with the results.

"Is that why you didn't campaign against us?" Tyman asked.

"I'm not an official citizen of your alliance. Campaigning would have been inappropriate," he answered.

"That didn't stop you from helping Kim, Stansbury, and Francis hold their seats though, did it?" Tyman asked. "Your man Cal is clever, but we were able to trace the campaign donations to your Swiss accounts."

Shocked by the accusation, Roger turned for Grey's reaction, only to see it was true.

"I may have provided marginal assistance," Grey confessed. "Valerie Fairfield has good intentions, but the alliances need strong leadership to organize against the Arikhan. Change at this time is inadvisable."

"We're going to enjoy working together," Tyman said, shaking Grey's hand. "Well, got work to do before the wedding. Good luck with those trout. You might do better if you use hooks."

Tyman and the secret service agents disappeared up the trail heading for the rustic lodge where the nuptials would be held. Trolleni lingered behind for a moment to swap a few words with James before following.

"I'll be a son of a bitch," James said. "A secret agreement with the Lunar Republic? What the hell is that all about? When? How did you pull it off? Who the hell is Cal?"

"I'm sorry, grandfather, that's classified information," Grey smugly replied.

"Classified? From me? Now I'm really a son of a bitch," James laughed.

"Speaking of which, I'd better get going, too," Roger said, reeling in his hookless line. "Tey will buck me fast if I show up smelling like bait."

"We'll catch up. I'd like to have a word with Grey," James suggested, waiting for Roger to leave before continuing. "Son, I'd like to say again I'm sorry. I can't help thinking that if I'd been more tactful, that incident with the lizards might have gone down better. I did what I had to, but it doesn't mean there aren't regrets."

"Your apology is unnecessary, sir," Grey assured him. "In retrospect, it was unreasonable of me to withhold such vital information. Doing the right thing for the right reasons regardless of the consequences is an obligation. One I should know better than anyone."

"I'm glad you see it that way," James said, proud to find his grandson so principled. "You've got some good times ahead at the academy, but don't expect any help once you get there. The Corps doesn't play favorites for anyone, not even for a general's grandson."

"It's a relief to hear that. Interacting with so many strange humans will be difficult enough without extra liabilities."

"Liabilities? Son, I'll have you know our family has a fine record at West Point. A fine record. In fact, my father... " James started to explain. Then he saw the mischievous twinkle in his grandson's eyes and realized he was being teased.

"You're human enough," James decided, helping Grey with his tackle.

__________

The mountain resort selected for the wedding was struggling to accommodate an event that had blossomed into a state occasion. As the lodge only held enough rooms for two hundred, half the guests were commuting from the valley up a narrow road. Others were housed in trailers rented for the weekend. For many of the V.I.P.s, two makeshift hopper pads were busy ferrying people in from Denver International Airport. The large crowds and extra security had the campground bustling.

Grey was just leaving the old-fashioned brick lodge where Tey and her wedding party were gathered when he noticed a hopper landing on the hill bearing familiar markings. He quickly worked his way past several large white tents and climbed up a steep slope to the landing area.

"Nick! Look! It's Grey!" Tamera yelled over the screech of the hopper's engines.

Grey reached the crest of the hill just as Nicholas and Tamera were disembarking.

"Thank you for accepting the invitation," Grey said, shaking Nicholas' hand before giving Tamera a hug. Wearing comfortable travel clothes, Tamera looked particularly attractive. And Grey couldn't remember the last time he had seen Nicholas so relaxed.

"We were coming down anyway," Nicholas answered. "Thank you for firing me. I never want to see a budget projection again."

"Not sorry to leave the moon?" Grey asked.

"The moon was a good experience, but I am looking forward to seeing my mother. It has been too long. She is very excited about our wedding," Nicholas explained.

"You won't forget, will you Grey?" Tamera asked.

"I haven't forgotten, but I would still rather not be best man. Isn't there someone more qualified for the honor?"

"No, Grey. There isn't," Tamera said.

"I once watched a story about a human named Theodore Roosevelt. He attracted much attention. Even at weddings, he always wanted to be both the bride and the groom. I think the attention should be on you, not a strange visitor from another world."

"We are not worried about a lack of attention," Nicholas rejected.

"We are worried that our dearest friend won't be there to share our happiest moment," Tamera pressed.

Grey conceded defeat with a shy smile.

"How's the leg? Any problems with your balance?" Grey asked, seeing one of the attendants unloading crutches along with their baggage.

"It will take some practice. To be a peg-leg on the moon is easy. It is harder now that I feel my full weight."

"It'll be even harder when you have babies to carry around," Tamera laughed. "And that will be very soon. About seven months, I think. Twins."

Nicholas was stunned at first, then burst into a huge grin and hugged her, almost toppling over.

"How long have you known? When were you going to tell me?" Nicholas questioned.

"Charleen confirmed it a few days ago," Tamera revealed, a glorious light in her eyes. "And I wanted to wait until we saw Grey so we could ask him to be godfather. You will, won't you?"

"You must," Nicholas said when Grey hesitated.

"I understand the role of a godparent is to protect the children of people we love. I will fulfill this function," Grey confirmed.

The parents-to-be held hands and kissed, which made Grey feel good in a way he had never experienced. He wasn't sure if the feeling would last, but he remembered the words of Master Shao; sometimes it's necessary to live in the present that we might be strong for the future. Grey reconciled himself to enjoying the moment.

"Where's Kris?" Tamera asked.

"The females are preparing elaborate clothing and speaking with great energy about nonsensical things," Grey reported. "Fortunately, custom dictates male members of the family maintain minimal contact."

"I'm going to share my news," Tamera said, finding her travel bag.

"I am going to the pavilion for a beer. A real beer, not one grown with radiated hops," Nicholas declared. "Will you join me?"

"An acceptable proposal," Grey agreed, picking up Nicholas' bag for him.

"Thank you, Grey. Thank you for everything," Tamera said, giving him an especially warm kiss on the cheek. "We owe you so much."

"Not as much as I owe you," Grey responded.

"Have you talked to her yet?" Tamera asked.

"Talked to who?" Grey questioned.

"Kris," Tamera said. "Grey, I know. I figured it out."

"Figured it out?"

"The challenge Kes gave you."

"Then you've done better than I have," Grey mildly protested.

"Don't be a coward," Tamera said before running down the hill toward the lodge.

"What did Tammy mean?" Nicholas asked, turning toward the cement ramp instead of the steep dirt slope.

"Tammy seeks to remind me that my journey isn't over," Grey sighed.

__________

"Kris? Kris, dear, what do you think of the veil?" Tey asked, standing before the full-length mirror in her white lace wedding dress.

Staring out the second-floor window at the hopper pad several hundred yards away, Kris saw Grey run across the parking lot, then up to the landing pad to meet Tamera and Nicholas. She couldn't help being curious. And a little envious.

"Kris?" Tey said again.

"What's that? Oh, it's great," Kris complimented without turning her head.

"Something on your mind?" Tey persisted, coming up next to her.

"Just wondering," Kris answered.

Tey motioned to her mother and three sisters who quietly left the room. A moment later, Tey and Kris were standing at the window alone.

"Have you decided about the post Space Command offered?" Tey asked. "It sounds very important. And exciting."

"It is," Kris acknowledged.

Tey saw Tamera and Grey hugging on the hopper pad. Nicholas was smiling. She could tell good news was being exchanged and didn't need to guess what it was.

"They're going to be very happy," Tey said, putting a hand on Kris' shoulder. "Nick will go back to engineering like he's always wanted. Tammy will be meeting with world leaders. They'll start a family. They're very blessed, aren't they?"

"Yeah. You and Roger, too. You get to have your post back at Edinburgh. Roger will be traveling all over the world doing the foreign minister thing. Ted and Lisa have cherry jobs at Tranquility. Real happy ending stuff."

"Have you talked to Grey recently?"

"Sure. Sat next to him at the bonfire last night."

"But have you been able to spend time with him?"

"Not much. After the games, he went back to California to secure the XL-3. I got sent to Annapolis for debriefing. Every time our paths cross, it never seems to be for more than a few hours."

"Then maybe you should make more time, unless you've decided that's not what you want."

"For a while I wasn't sure, but I am now," Kris said, her fingers clinched into fists. "I know it will never be like it was before, when it was just the two of us on the moon. Me and Grey against the world. I think I finally understand why he misses those days so much. But I miss him a lot. I miss those funny looks he gives when he calls someone a ridiculous human and we both know he's joking. Or when he has to learn some new social skill and can't bring himself to admit it. And those quiet nights together. Those nights when I force him to settle down and stop working and he protests, but we both know how special the moment is. I wish we could have that back."

"What does Grey say?" Tey asked, taking her hands.

"Not much of anything, really. We've talked about his strategy for the games, and Space Command's offer, and how glad he is to finally spend time with his grandfather, but nothing all that personal. Not about us. Hell, we hardly even talk about Tranquility anymore."

"He's changed, hasn't he? Especially these last few months," Tey suggested. "Shows interest in family. Not obsessed with his duties. Smiles without pretending. Most of the time. He seems confident in a way that's different than before."

"Sure, now that he's faced his big challenge, life's become a flat surface for him. Don't know where that leaves me, though," Kris lamented.

"Big challenge?" Tey inquired.

"A story Tammy told me. Kes, rocks, lizards, babies. Really weird stuff. Stuff you don't need to be worrying about on your wedding day."

Tey wasn't sure if that was true. She looked out the window to see Tamera running in their direction. It seemed to be a happy day for almost everybody.

"Do you know how Grey and I first met?" Tey suddenly asked.

"Well, sort of. In the landing bay while fighting the sentinel class seekers," Kris recalled.

"True, but I found the experience a bit more dramatic than that. Chairman Bothwell personally asked me to assist the invasion force. Support only, no combat. I trained with the kids for six weeks, then headed for the moon to fight the young tyrant our government said was preparing to hold the world hostage.

"Two days after landing, half my group was dead. A few of us, Ted, Glenda, and I, were trapped in a storage alcove with no hope of survival, crouching on the floor while the seekers were blasting our hiding place to rubble. All I could think of was wishing I'd stayed home. Stayed at the university where I belonged. I was so damned scared I couldn't even say the Lord's Prayer. Then suddenly this skinny kid comes diving over the counter, giving the seekers hell, bleeding and not giving a flying damn."

Tey paused. Kris saw tears running down her cheeks and went to hold her.

"Before you could blink an eye, everything changed," Tey finally continued. "Grey was asking questions, giving orders, jumping up to hit the seekers head on. At that moment, I knew I was going to live. There was no logical reason to believe that, we were still badly overmatched, but none of that mattered. We've come a long way since that terrible day. You and me. Nick and Tammy. Tranquility and the alliances. But Grey hasn't changed. Not in the way you fear. He's still that brave young man out there day after day putting his life on the line for our world."

"I think you're right, I'm just not sure he needs me anymore. I'm not sure if he ever needed me," Kris questioned.

"Then you've got to find out, dear. Grey has the courage to fight for us. Do you have the courage to fight for him? I think you do, and I think he needs you. I think he's always needed you."

Kris would have liked to talk more, but they were interrupted by a knock on the door. Tamera had arrived with exciting news and Tey's family needed to finish dressing. There was still a long day ahead.

__________

The wedding had proved a boisterous affair given the eminence of the guest list. Council Director Tyman was joined by the President of Scotland, three prime ministers, thirty ambassadors, and nearly a hundred military officers from six different alliances. Tey's parents were impressed.

Sitting in the front row next to his grandfather, Grey was awed by the great pageantry of the event and thought Kris looked especially beautiful as she walked down the center aisle with the flower girls. Kris was sure to give him a smile. Later, there was a banquet and dancing before the happy couple departed for the airport and their honeymoon in the highlands of Scotland.

"That was great, wasn't it?" Kris asked, pulling Grey off the dance floor as the evening grew late. It was a cool, clear night covered by a blanket of stars. A huge bonfire burned in the campground where people were still milling around.

"A remarkable ceremony," Grey agreed. "If Life Support had ever told me I would spend an entire day in a forest with five hundred humans singing, drinking, and dancing, I would have taken it offline for repairs."

Kris laughed. She had also missed his odd sense of humor.

"Grey, where do we go from here?" she dared to ask.

To her surprise, Grey seemed pleased by the question.

"For a walk," he said, taking her by the hand.

They quietly slipped away from the party, then went up a dirt trail that led to the top of a nearby cliff overlooking the lake. When they reached the lookout, Grey took Kris to a log bench where they could watch the full moon reflecting off the water.

"Are you accepting the promotion Space Command offered?" he asked.

"Do you want me to?"

"It's not my decision."

"I know it's not your decision, I'm asking your opinion."

"Yes, I think you should accept," Grey advised. "Your experience is badly needed by this new battalion."

"What about us?" she asked.

"We'll always have Paris," he replied.

"Moonman, that had better be a joke," Kris said, swinging around on the bench to face him. Grey took her in his arms and kissed her slowly, spending time on the soft touch of her lips.

"I don't want to lose you," he said. "And if it means fighting Commander Sheppard for your affections, then he had better be ready, because I don't fight fair."

"Ricky's just a friend, Grey. If you can avoid killing him, I'd really appreciate it," Kris assured him with a smile.

"Do I have to fight someone else?" he asked.

"No, moonman, you don't have to fight anybody," she said, moving in for another long kiss. Grey could hear her sigh of contentment and hoped it meant what he suspected.

"Well, now that you've met the challenge Kes gave you, what's next?"

"Challenge?"

"Tammy told me all about it. The trip to the past, and a different present. And that last visit. Kes wanted you to accept a challenge, and you did. You beat the seekers. She'd be very proud of you."

"That wasn't the dilemma Kes spoke of. She said I needed to make a choice, but it had nothing to do with challenging seekers. I've faced challenges like that my whole life."

"I don't get it then. Tammy made it all sound pretty important."

"Important to who?"

"Quit stalling," Kris said, snuggling closer.

"I was being selfish when I left you behind last summer. It was a way of making life less complicated. A way to focus on defeating the Arikhan. But I didn't defeat them, and Glenda died."

"That wasn't your fault."

"Yes, it was, and I'll have to live with it. When I was recovering in the medical ward, it seemed like I no longer had a purpose. Tranquility didn't need me, the Earth alliances didn't want me, and I thought you'd be happier with someone else. All I wanted to do was disappear. Pretend I'd never existed. Somehow Kes sensed that and sought to teach me a lesson."

"That was the dream dimension where you and Tammy went. You saw our world conquered by the lizards."

"We saw a possible future, one Kes says is certain if I walk away from my obligations."

"So, you've decided not to walk away? You've accepted her challenge?"

"No, that wasn't the challenge either."

"Well, damn it all, what was the challenge?!"

"Kes proved to me that cowards don't achieve great things. They're no help to themselves, and they can never help others. It's been a hard journey."

"Grey, you're no coward! You're the bravest person I've ever known. Kes didn't understand. It was a trick of the rocks."

"No, it wasn't a trick. I know that now. I've been brave performing my duties or facing danger. It's not so hard when you have nothing else to live for. But I haven't been brave facing life. I pushed you away because it was easier. Held back on my friends. Avoided the family I never had. I've wanted to love you from the first moment we met, but I wouldn't let myself."

"You do love me, then? For real?"

"Yes, Kris, I love you as much as I'll ever be able to love anyone, and hopefully more."

"I love you, too, moonman. I've loved you from the first, but I still don't get what this challenge was all about?"

"Since the day New Ranger crashed on the moon, I've struggled between two worlds. The world of duty the computers raised me for, or the world of people, with all its hopes and dreams. And disappointments. I thought I could choose between them, but I was wrong. Kes showed me the real choice is between seeking my destiny or retreating to a place of safety. Embrace life or accept the consequences. That's the challenge."

"Wow, that's monster. What are you going to do?"

"I choose to embrace life, whatever that means. But the answer to your question isn't up to me, it's up to you."

"Up to me? What do you mean?"

Grey smiled, squeezed her hand, then slid off the bench to kneel next to her, taking a small box from his pocket. He opened the box to reveal an antique diamond ring that had once belonged to his grandmother.

"This is what I mean," Grey said. "Kris, will you marry me?"

* * * * * *

Our heroes have reached a good place. Is it time to end the series? Well, no. The Arikhan fleet is coming and Grey has every intention of stopping them. If you've enjoyed this story and would like to see more, please let me know.