Countdown by John Walker (feel good fiction books txt) 📗

If I would’ve been here… Graff knew better than to go too far down that mental path. He felt his age trying to use the turret on the starship. A battle of the magnitude capable of leveling the entire settlement was one he couldn’t even fathom. My days of this type of fighting have long since been behind me.

He hadn’t felt particularly old until he’d stepped off of Dora’s ship and saw the devastation up close with his own eyes. The worst of it came after he spoke with Major Oliver Peck. When he heard about Felix… that was the last straw. He’d wandered through the debris-filled streets until he reached the command center.

There, he sat, staring into space, unmoving. The situation killed him on the inside and made his heartache worse than any other incident. Felix had been so stalwart, so dedicated and serious and frankly… so young. Graff felt protective of many people, but when he’d met Felix, he’d felt as if he could trust the man to eventually take his mantel.

I wanted him to mentor these people, Graff thought. All he needed was a better understanding of the way the modern world worked. Basic social concepts. He had everything else. Integrity, compassion… why the hell? He closed his eyes tightly. If I would’ve been here, I don’t think I could’ve saved him.

And that hurt him worst of all. Knowing full well his presence wouldn’t have made a difference. In fact, I’d probably be dead too. Guilt gnawed at him, made him second-guess whether he’d known in his heart of hearts that this attack might happen. Is that why I insisted on going with Dora? I was afraid to die?

Graff never thought of himself as a coward, but events from his past came back to haunt him as he sat there. All the times he’d run away from a fight. Hiding out on different worlds, pretending to be a lawman to protect his identity as someone who ran from everything. Did hopping on Dora’s ship equate to the same thing?

I’d like to think I was helping her with the prisoner. The prisoner who didn’t do anything but cooperate. The alien who betrayed his own people to help them prevent a war. I probably wasn’t necessary. I could barely even use the damn turret! I’m a waste, and here I am faced with the real consequences of my ‘legacy.’

While they were waiting around for something to happen, Graff had told Felix tall tales. The man had been gullible enough to believe most of them. Correcting him back then seemed cruel but they’d probably contributed to his death. If he’d tried to live up to those expectations, those wild examples… then he’d likely risked his life needlessly.

I have to admit, he was a better warrior than I ever was. Even with my training. Felix took to it naturally. He had a survivor’s instinct but also that of a defender. Meaning he willingly put himself in harm’s way to keep others alive. That had been a learned behavior from his escape as a slave. And it served him well. That integrity was admirable.

Oliver stepped up, sitting beside him. “I know you’re hurting right now, but we’re prepped to go.” He turned to Graff. “You ready to take off?”

“I don’t know.” Graff didn’t feel compelled to move. He felt like two leaden weights had been attached to his feet, holding him fast. The moment he sat down, he wondered if he might ever stand again. “I guess we don’t have a lot of choice. There’s nothing here, right? And staying on Gallik.” He huffed. “What would be the point?”

“We still need you, pal.”

“For what?” Graff glared at him. “Seriously, tell me. What do you need? I failed Dora. I failed Felix. I failed this place. Christ, you guys trusted me! And I…” He turned away. “I left.”

“And that pissed me off,” Oliver replied. “Listen, what happened to Felix wasn’t your fault. Not by a long shot. You went to help with an important operation… one that may have made it possible for us to win a fight with the ervas. Staying here for you would’ve just meant… I don’t mean to sound heartless, but you probably wouldn’t have survived.”

I know that! Graff kept the shout to himself. Much as he wanted to belt it out, to let everyone hear just how profoundly he understood his own limitations. Never before have they been so clear… so obvious.

“So what’s next then, Peck?” Graff looked at him. “What do we do?”

“You get aboard the ship,” Oliver said. “We’ll take you back to Gold Empire space. You stay in their capital until we can return you home. Live out the rest of your life in safety. That’s what Felix would’ve wanted for you. Not whatever ill-advised ideas you’re having right now. Certainly not revenge.”

“I feel like… I deserve to die in some glorious battle. Somehow.”

“Survivor’s guilt makes you think a lot of stupid things,” Oliver replied. “But you don’t have to fulfill that prophecy. Come on.” He patted the man on the knee. “Let’s get to the shuttle. There are people aboard you can talk to… who can help you work through some of this. Staying down here won’t help anything.”

“Yeah… okay.” Graff stood. “Can you… are they going to… provide him with some kind of ceremony?”

“We lost a lot of people down here.” Oliver clapped him on the shoulder as they walked. “Everyone will receive recognition for this. I promise. It’ll work out.”

“You seem awfully calm.” Graff frowned. “Considering what’s going on with your sister.”

“I’m worried… but I have to be honest, Rita can take care of herself. She’s been living in that world for a long time. Hell, you know that. You know these people better than I do. They must’ve come across your path plenty of times.”

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