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“O Lord, I beseech You, may Your ear be attentive to the prayer of Your servant and the prayer of Your servants who delight to revere Your name, and make Your servant successful today and grant him compassion before this man.”
Nehemiah 1:11
In the Shadow of Grief
The hospital buzzed with a whirlwind of organized chaos. Kristen moved with a sense of purpose and proficiency, her hands steady as she triaged patients and coordinated with the overwhelmed medical staff. The acrid smell of burnt flesh and the metallic tang of blood filled the air, a grim reminder of the battle that had raged outside.
As she finished stabilizing a Marine with a severe plasma burn, Kristen caught sight of Captain Hollister approaching. His face was a mask of grim determination, but there was something in his eyes that set her on edge. She straightened, steeling herself for whatever news he brought.
“Dr. Kitzler,” Hollister began, his voice uncharacteristically subdued. “I… I’m afraid I have some bad news about Corporal Kovacs.”
Kristen’s heart skipped a beat, but her training kicked in. She observed Hollister’s body language, the slight hesitation in his words, the way his eyes couldn’t quite meet hers and blinking faster than usual. Her mind raced, piecing together the puzzle.
“Wade was killed in action during the Skravak assault,” Hollister continued, his words sounding rehearsed. “He died protecting his fellow Marines and…”
Kristen tuned out the rest of Hollister’s prepared speech. She knew he was lying. The signs were all there – the inconsistencies in his story, the forced emotion in his voice. But more than that, she knew Wade. She had felt his presence, his determination when he rescued her from the bunker.
“Always,” he had promised. And she believed him.
Tears welled up in Kristen’s eyes, not from grief but from the sudden, crushing realization of what this meant. Wade wasn’t dead, but he might as well be. Whatever had happened, whatever he was involved in, it was big enough to fake his death. Big enough to tear them apart.
She thought back to their brief reunion, the feeling of safety in his arms, the way his prosthetic hand had gently cupped her cheek. How long would it be before she felt that touch again? Would she ever?
Hollister mistook her tears for grief, awkwardly patting her shoulder. “I’m sorry for your loss, Doctor. Kovacs was a fine Marine and…”
“Thank you, Captain,” Kristen cut him off, her voice surprisingly steady. “If you’ll excuse me, I have patients who need me.”
As Hollister nodded and turned away, Kristen took a deep breath, pushing down the storm of emotions threatening to overwhelm her. She had a job to do, lives to save. And somewhere out there, Wade was fighting his own battle. She had to believe they would find their way back to each other.
For now, all she could do was hold onto his promise. Always.
Behind Closed Visors
The hangar bay thrummed with nervous energy as Marines and sailors scrambled to prepare for the next wave of Skravak attacks. Amidst the organized chaos, Wade and Mayumi stood silently, their newly anonymous personna a stark reminder of their altered reality.
Captain Venn approached, his face etched with the weight of command. “Briggs, Torres,” he barked, “you’re on escort duty. Top secret cargo to the ISC Yorktown.” His eyes flickered meaningfully towards Wade and Mayumi.
Briggs nodded sharply. “Understood, sir.”
“Kovacs…Kato!” Venn continued, his voice low, “scrape those name plates off your armor. Visors stay down at all times. As far as anyone’s concerned, you’re KIA. Don’t give them reason to think otherwise.”
Wade’s hands moved mechanically, pulling out his K-bar and using it to erase the paint stamped plate from his battle-scarred armor. Each scrape of metal against metal felt like severing another tie to his life, to Kristen.
As they prepared to board the dropship, Venn pulled Wade aside. “I expect you to keep your commitment, Marine,” he said, his tone softening slightly. “The Rangers will be waiting for you when this is over.”
Wade nodded, but his mind was elsewhere. The promise of joining the Rangers, once his driving ambition, now felt hollow compared to the ache in his chest. How would Kristen handle the news of his “death”? What would their future look like, if they even had one?
As he stepped onto the dropship’s ramp, a memory surfaced – clear and vivid as the day it happened. The first time he saw Kristen, that voice in his head: “This is the woman you are going to marry.” At the time, it had seemed like a fleeting thought, a romantic notion. Now, it felt like a lifeline, a promise from the Lord Himself.
The Thunderhawk’s engines roared to life, drowning out the cacophony of the hangar. Wade took his seat, his anonymity preserved behind the darkened visor. Across from him, Mayumi sat equally silent, her own thoughts hidden behind her faceless helmet.
As the craft lifted off, Wade’s gaze was drawn to the planet below. Somewhere down there, Kristen was facing a world that believed him dead. The thought twisted in his gut like a knife.
“You okay in there, cargo?” Briggs’ gruff voice crackled over the comm.
Wade managed a weak chuckle. “Just peachy, Briggs.”
The dropship broke atmosphere, the blue sky fading to the star-speckled black of space. The ISC Yorktown loomed ahead, a behemoth of human engineering against the cosmic backdrop.
As they approached the carrier, Wade closed his eyes, focusing on that memory, that promise. “This is the woman you are going to marry.” He clung to those words, letting them fill him with a renewed sense of purpose and hope.
Whatever trials lay ahead, whatever battles he would face, Wade knew one thing with absolute certainty – he would find his way back to Kristen. Their story wasn’t over; it was just on pause.
The dropship touched down in the Yorktown’s hangar with a gentle thud. As the ramp lowered, Wade took a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever came next. He might be officially dead to the world, but his heart beat stronger than ever, fueled by love, faith, and an unshakable promise.
“Let’s move, cargo,” Alex called out, his voice tinged with a mix of amusement and sympathy.
The Brig
Alex immediately requested directions to the carrier’s brig, a compact detention facility designed for confining wayward marines and sailors. The ISC Yorktown’s brig was a far cry from the prison cells Wade had encountered planetside. Despite not being actual prisoners, Wade and Mayumi found themselves surrounded by reinforced doors and bare necessities—stark reminders of their delicate circumstances. Their fabricated “deaths” necessitated absolute secrecy, making the rarely frequented brig the ideal location for their security.
Briggs and Torres. took their roles as sentries with characteristic Ranger dedication. They stood guard in 4-hour shifts, their imposing Ranger armor deterring curious crew members who wandered too close.
“Nothing to see here, sailor,” Briggs would growl, his voice pitched low enough to send even the bravest scurrying away.
Inside the brig, Wade and Mayumi tried to maintain some semblance of normalcy. They exercised, prayed, read their Bibles, and spent hours in quiet conversation, carefully avoiding the topic that weighed heaviest on their minds – the loved ones they’d left behind.
Alex, ever resourceful, managed to smuggle in creature comforts – real coffee, fresh fruit, even a datapad loaded with books and games. “Can’t have our ‘top secret cargo’ going stir-crazy, can we?” he quipped, his eyes twinkling behind his visor.
The carrier’s captain, true to his orders, never questioned Briggs and Torres’ requests. Extra rations, specialized equipment, even a secure comm link to communicate with Captain Venn, all were provided without hesitation.
Days blurred into weeks. Wade found himself losing track of time, the constant hum of the carrier’s engines a monotonous backdrop to their isolation. He clung to his memories of Kristen, replaying their moments together like a lifeline to sanity.
Mayumi, ever observant, noticed Wade’s struggle. “We’ll see them again,” she said softly one night, her voice barely audible over the ship’s ambient noise. “This isn’t the end, Wade. It’s just a detour. You know God has a plan and this is all going to work out for His glory.”
Wade nodded, grateful for her unwavering faith. “I know,” he replied, managing a small smile. “We’ve got unfinished business and promises to keep.”
As their third week in space drew to a close, there was a discernible shift in the energy aboard the Yorktown. The massive carrier began deceleration maneuvers, and through the small viewport in their cell, Wade and Mayumi caught glimpses of another behemoth ship – the ISC Dominion.
Briggs entered their cell, his usual gruff demeanor softened slightly. “Time to move out,” he announced. “General Redside is waiting for you on the Dominion.”
As they prepared to transfer ships, Torres appeared, his Ranger armor gleaming under the harsh lights of the brig. “Looks like this is where we part ways, cargo,” he said, a hint of fondness in his voice.
Wade and Mayumi exchanged glances, suddenly realizing how much they’d come to rely on the two friends. “Thank you,” Wade said simply, knowing words couldn’t fully express their gratitude.
Briggs cleared his throat awkwardly. “It’s been our honor, buddy,” he mumbled. “Now get out there and finish whatever secret squirrel mission you two have been assigned, and come back in one piece. Remember, the second battalion will be waiting for you when you do.” They exchanged clasped hands and chest bumps and resumed their prisoner escort theatrics. Wade and Mayumi closed their visors and prepared to disembark.
As they boarded the shuttle to the Dominion, Wade took one last look at the Yorktown through the viewport. For three weeks, it had been their floating fortress, a safe haven in a sea of uncertainty. Now, they were diving back into the unknown.
General Redside was waiting as they disembarked onto the Dominion, his weathered face a mask of determination. “Welcome aboard,” he said grimly. “We’ve got work to do.”
The Disappearing Act
General Redside’s command post was a stark contrast to the comfortable corridors of the ISC Dominion. Maps and tactical displays covered the walls, and the air hummed with the quiet efficiency of a high-level command center.
“Your contributions have been invaluable,” Redside began, his voice grave. “But it’s put an interstellar target on your backs. We need to make you disappear.”
Wade and Mayumi exchanged glances, tension evident in their postures.
“There’s a new colony,” Redside continued, “on the far side of the Delphi Quadrant. You’ll be assigned to the Marine detachment there. It’s so remote, the Skravaks will never find you. Think of it as a year or two of laying low.”
He slid two packets across his desk. “New identities, credentials, and battlefield commissions to 2nd Lieutenant. It’s well-deserved, but it’ll also throw off any Skravak or AI intel gathering.”
Wade’s hand trembled slightly as he reached for the packet. Inside, a stranger’s name stared back at him. A new life, forced upon him by circumstance and duty.
“Dismissed,” Redside said softly, a hint of sympathy in his eyes. “You ship out at 09 hundred tomorrow.”
In the privacy of his temporary quarters, Wade stared at his new identity. Lieutenant James Smith, born on a distant colony, distinguished service record carefully fabricated. It felt wrong, like a betrayal of everything he’d fought for.
His thoughts turned to Kristen, to his friend Jay, to the life he was leaving behind. The weight of it all pressed down on him, threatening to crush his spirit.
In desperation, Wade fell to his knees. “Father,” he whispered, his voice cracking, “I don’t understand. What am I supposed to do? How can this be Your plan?”
Silence answered him, broken only by the faint hum of the ship’s engines.
With a heavy sigh, Wade reached for his worn Bible. It fell open to where he’d last left off – Nehemiah, chapter one. His eyes were drawn to the final verse:
“O Lord, I beseech You, may Your ear be attentive to the prayer of Your servant and the prayer of Your servants who delight to revere Your name, and make Your servant successful today and grant him compassion before this man. Now I was the cupbearer to the king.”
Wade read the words again, then a third time. Something stirred in his heart – a flicker of hope, an ember of inspiration.
Nehemiah had been a cupbearer, close to the king but not in a position of power. Yet he had found a way to convince the king to follow what he thought was God’s plan for his life and the lives of his people.
Wade’s mind raced. Maybe there was another way. Maybe he didn’t have to disappear to the far reaches of the galaxy. Maybe, like Nehemiah, he could find a way to be with his people and carry on with his purpose.
He glanced at the clock – 02 hundred. Seven hours until departure. Seven hours to change the course of his future.
With newfound determination, Wade stood. He would talk to General Redside in the morning. He didn’t know if it would work, if Redside would listen, but he had to try.
As he prepared for the conversation ahead, Wade felt a sense of peace wash over him. Whatever happened, he knew he wasn’t alone. He had his faith, his training, and the memory of Kristen to guide him. He climbed into his bunk.
“Always,” he whispered to the empty room, a promise to himself and to those he loved. Come what may, he would find a way back to them. He finally drifted off to sleep.
Promises and Possibilities
His datapad alarm woke Wade with a start. He got out of his bunk and got ready for what he felt was the meeting of his life. The corridors of the ISC Dominion buzzed with activity as he, now officially 2nd Lieutenant James Smith, made his way to General Redside’s makeshift 1st Division Headquarters. His heart raced, fueled by a mixture of determination and anxiety.
As he rounded the corner, he nearly collided with a towering figure – the Division’s Sergeant Major, a man whose very presence commanded respect.
“Watch where you’re going, Lieutenant! And…why are you in full kit with your visor down, LT? You know something we don’t know?” the Sergeant Major growled, his eyes narrowing as he stared at his own reflection in Wade’s visor.
Wade straightened, fighting the urge to give some smart aleck answer because he technically out ranked the Sergeant Major and he was in no mood to be lectured, but that would be a huge mistake. “My apologies, Sergeant Major. My…my visor…well that’s classified. I’m here to see General Redside.”
The Sergeant Major’s expression hardened. “Classified, huh? Well your General is in a classified briefing. He’s not to be disturbed.”
Wade felt his resolve waver for a moment, but the memory of Nehemiah’s courage steeled him. “I understand, Sergeant Major. I’ll wait.”
Hours ticked by as Wade stood outside the briefing room, his posture rigid, his mind racing through potential arguments. Crew members passed by, casting curious glances at the young officer who seemed to have taken up residence in the corridor and was awkwardly “overdressed.”
Finally, the briefing room door slid open. General Redside emerged, deep in conversation with a group of senior officers. The Sergeant Major immediately stepped forward, placing himself between Wade and the General.
“Sir, this Lieutenant has been waiting to speak with you, but I’ve informed him you’re not to be disturbed,” the Sergeant Major reported, his tone making it clear he expected Wade to be dismissed.
Wade held his breath, watching Redside’s eyes. For a moment, he feared the General wouldn’t recognize him, that his new identity had already erased who he truly was.
But then Redside nodded, a flicker of curiosity crossing his weathered features. “It’s alright, Sergeant Major. I’ll speak with the Lieutenant.”
The Sergeant Major’s surprise was evident, but he stepped aside without further comment.
Redside gestured for Wade to follow him back into the briefing room. As the hatch closed behind them, shutting out the busy corridor, Wade felt the weight of the moment settle on his shoulders and took off his helmet.
“Well, Lieutenant Smith,” Redside said, emphasizing the unfamiliar name, “what’s so urgent that you’d spend hours waiting outside my door?”
Wade took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders. “Sir, I’ve been thinking about the assignment you gave me and Corporal… I mean, Lieutenant Hawkins.”
Redside’s eyebrow raised slightly. “Having second thoughts about your new identity already?”
“No, sir,” Wade replied quickly. “Well, yes, but that’s not… Sir, I believe I can be of more use to the war effort than being stuck on some rock babysitting a distant colony.”
The General’s expression remained neutral, but Wade sensed a shift in his posture – he was listening.
Encouraged, Wade pressed on. “Last night, I was thinking about why I joined the Marine Corps and my contributions to our war against the Skravaks…
Redside leaned back, his eyes never leaving Wade’s face. “Go on, Lieutenant.”
Wade felt a surge of hope. The General hadn’t dismissed him outright. He had a chance.
Drawing a deep breath, Wade stood taller. The memory of Kristen, of his promise – “Always” – gave him strength. Whatever came next, he knew he was fighting for something greater than himself.
“Sir,” he began, his voice steady despite the turmoil in his heart, “I’d like to propose a different path – one that keeps me in the fight, on my original plan, while still maintaining the secrecy we need…”
Another Way
Wade took a deep breath, drawing on every ounce of courage he possessed. “Sir, do you remember what you told me in the hospital? You said, ‘If there’s ever anything I can do for you, come and see me.’ Well, I’m here now, and I want to take you up on that offer.”
General Redside’s eyes squinted, a mix of surprise and intrigue crossing his face. “So you’re cashing in all your chips…I remember… continue, Lieutenant.”
“Sir, instead of sending me to a distant colony, what if you kept me as a corporal and sent me to Ranger School instead?” Wade’s words tumbled out, fueled by passion and conviction. “There’s limited contact with the outside world, and no one would suspect I’m hidden away in Earth’s mountains or swamps. I could still serve, still make a difference, without compromising my security. Sir…that’s what I signed up to be…a Deep Space Ranger.”
For a long moment, Redside said nothing. His eyes bored into Wade’s, as if searching for something deep within the young Marine’s soul. When he finally spoke, his voice was a mixture of irritation and admiration.
“Do you have any idea how much trouble we’ve gone to, changing your identities, creating new backgrounds, arranging for your protection on that colony?” Redside’s tone was stern, but Wade detected a hint of something else – respect, perhaps?
“I understand, sir,” Wade replied, his voice steady despite his racing heart. “And I’m grateful for everything you and the Corps has done for me. But I believe this could work. It keeps me safe, keeps me useful, and…” he hesitated for a moment, then pressed on, “…it keeps me closer to New Quantico, sir.”
Redside’s expression softened almost imperceptibly. He stood, walking to the viewport that overlooked the vastness of space. For what felt like an eternity, he said nothing, simply staring out at the stars.
Finally, he turned back to Wade. “You know, Smith, when I first met you in that dropship before our recon, missing a hand, running a smokin’ fever. I saw something in you. I saw grit, a drive and determination that set you apart.” He chuckled softly. “I should have known you wouldn’t settle for being shipped off to some backwater planet.”
Hope surged in Wade’s chest. “Does that mean…?”
Redside held up a hand, silencing him. “It means I’m considering it. But let me ask you this – with all you’ve been through…are you sure about this? Ranger School, I mean…haven’t you more than proved yourself? I can make this happen but I got to know you’re sure.
Wade nodded solemnly. “I’m sure, sir. It’s where I belong. It’s my calling.”
The General scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Well, then. I suppose that settles it.” A sly grin spread across his face. “But will you at least let me demote you to sergeant?”
For a moment, Wade was stunned. Then, a laugh bubbled up from deep within him, releasing weeks of tension and fear. “You’ve got yourself a deal, General.”
Redside stepped forward, extending his hand. As Wade shook it, the General shook his head in amazement. “Sergeant Smith, you are going to make one heck of a Ranger!”
As the laughter subsided, a comfortable silence fell between them. Wade felt a weight lift from his shoulders, replaced by a sense of purpose and direction.
“Thank you, sir,” he said with all the sincerity he could muster. “For listening, for understanding.”
Redside nodded, his expression turning serious once more. “Don’t thank me yet, Sergeant. We’ve still got some details to work out, and you’ve got one long tough journey ahead of you.”
Wade straightened, feeling more like himself than he had in weeks. “I won’t let you down, sir.”
Wade donned his helmet as he exited the briefing room, passing the sneering Sergeant Major. Silently, he thanked God for the courage and words granted during his “Nehemiah-like” discussion with the general. He felt his Lord’s presence every step of the way.
“Always,” he whispered, renewing his promise to all he held dear. Whatever trials lay ahead, he would face them head-on, armed with the strength of his convictions and the power of his faith. The path forward was clear now, and “Sergeant James Smith” stood ready to take his first step towards becoming a Ranger and reuniting with Kristen.
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