His Holiday Gift: Yule Magic 1

Genres: Short Stories; Holiday Romance; Science Fiction Romance; Space Opera

Synopsis

Rorn T'Kar, Commander of Earth ship Verdon, returns home after battling Earth's enemies for five long years. His one regret is that the woman he still loves, and who broke their engagement, was killed in battle.


Lyra Dench broke her engagement to the handsome Rorn so she could join the Infiltration Corps. Due to the secrecy of her mission she couldn't tell Rorn why she left him almost at the altar.


Five years later Rorn finds himself home again on Armistice Day. The allies have won, but he has lost his heart. For him, homecoming is a bittersweet experience until the love of his life suddenly arrives back home, on his front lawn.
Rorn makes a vow. Whatever it takes, he's not letting her walk away again. He's got the second chance he'd hoped for; he's got his holiday gift.

Rating: holiday sweet

Release date: December 13, 2019

Publisher: Candace Sams

Print pages: 86

Content advisory: No sexual content. Rated G for all audiences

Sample

His Holiday Gift

 

 

Chapter 1

 

Armistice Day

December 22, 5315

Quasar Field in Old Los Angeles

 

Rorn T’Kar grinned as his subordinates happily exited the star-class fighter Verdon.

Each member of the crew hurriedly saluted him as they disembarked. They were anxious to begin shore leave and celebrate the end of an extremely long, hard-fought war.

Those who couldn’t speak one of Earth’s languages had been outfitted with their choice of translation devices. He needed none since his mother had been born and raised in the greater Los Angeles area, and he’d spent most of his adult life there. His father was a diplomat from Panthera, but his parents had split their time between the two worlds until quite recently. Circumstances forced them to make their final home on Earth.

The entire X1210 sector and its outermost rings had been utterly obliterated by pirate raids, and Panthera had been right in the middle of enemy teckion fusion bombs rendering every world in that sector uninhabitable.

His parents, three sisters, and two brothers now waited him for the Armistice celebrations. Appropriately, the end of the war corresponded with the Yule holidays. Partying for both events would probably last days.

He’d been told that every business in existence kept their doors open day and night for returning veterans to find much needed R&R.

That was as it should be.

For five long years, the war with boundary disputing Scaribda Enclave pirates raged.

The Allies—Earth, Mars, Arterion Prime, and a hundred other worlds placed the blame firmly on Scaribda. Enemy officials ordered pirates to attack anything that moved through free, open space. This order included blowing up hospital transports, humanitarian corsairs, and supply trawlers. As far as he was concerned, the Enclave had got precisely what they asked for. The Allies had fought long and hard. The result was not only a decisive victory on all fronts, but the ultimate unconditional surrender of all enemy fighters.

This morning, at ten o’clock Eastern Standard Time, documents ending all hostilities were signed. Earth’s own Washington, D.C. had hosted the ceremony, and officials from thirty-two sectors of space witnessed the event.

Tonight, allied ships bearing millions of celebrating veterans would descend on war-weary Earth, and other accommodating planets. For the foreseeable future, Los Angeles and cities all over the world would be inundated with revelers. There might be room to stand, but just barely.

As the last of his crew exited, he knelt to pick up his black cargo bag for the final time. He paused when a hand landed on his shoulder and turned to see his second-in-command smiling.

“Except for emergency services, communication is almost entirely blocked. Com-centers report that people are experiencing long delays in vid-messaging and even wrist communicators aren’t functioning optimally. There are just too many people trying to communicate at once,” the officer relayed. “Air Marshal has suspended all flights except for emergency vehicles in and around the area. There are too many transports, short-distance hover discs, shuttle vessels and the like trying to get air space. No one can safely navigate.”

Rorn lifted one brow in concern. “I see.”

“The media is also reporting that foot traffic is absolutely shoulder-to-shoulder,” the man continued. “People are partying in the streets, and any attempt to get them to back off roadways…well…you can imagine.”

“Mix Armistice, the Yule holiday and warriors who haven’t seen shore leave in years, and you get an instant party everywhere,” Rorn merrily reported.

“Is your home any distance, sir?”

“Quite.”

“Perhaps I can flag you a ride on a law enforcement vessel.”

Rorn waved one hand in dismissal. “No, don’t do that. We’ve still got wounded coming in, and the police will have their hands full making sure air-ambulances can land.”

“But how will you get home, sir?”

“The same as everyone else,” Rorn informed him, “I’ll walk.” He picked up his bag, looped its long handle over one shoulder, and held out his hand in a universal gesture of friendship. “As my last command, I’ll remind you to lock up when you power everything down,” he joked.

“Aye sir,” the officer said as he took his commander’s hand and firmly shook it. “We’ll be off the ship and partying in three shakes of a Debrulion lizard’s tail.” The uniformed man paused briefly. His next words were spoken quite softly and meaningfully. “If I may say so, sir, you’ll be missed. The crew would have liked to celebrate your transition into civilian life. As it is, they know nothing at all of your resignation.”

Rorn nodded. “This is precisely how I meant to depart military life and this career. Leaving quietly is best. Your new commander is top-drawer. He’ll need your undivided attention and loyalty since the crew will find itself enforcing shipping laws. Deep space trawling and looking for minor infractions holds no interest for me. But no matter what happens in the future, I’m done with space.”

“But sir—”

“Thank the crew. Tell them that if they’re ever in need of anything, just let me know. I’ll be easy to find. For the foreseeable future, I’ll be sharing a home with my family. The address will be listed within Earth Force registries. Good luck…safe travels.”

“The same to you,” the young officer murmured.

Rorn quickly turned and walked down the gangplank.

Part of his heart would always be with his crew and his ship. But he’d truly had enough fighting. There was no inducement that would make him stay aboard one more second.

Once he stood on solid ground, he took a moment to get his land legs. Artificial gravity on board the ship didn’t quite compare to Earth’s surface. It’d only take a moment to feel normal again. And from that point on, he’d never desire anything else but life on solid ground.

He stared at the massive amount of human and alien bodies jostling for position on the landing field, all the way to the exit gates.

Purple, four-armed Crechians vied for space with horned Lebrohrs, giant wooly Wolgoths, pale and be-gilled Silkans, and humans. There had to be a hundred other races represented in the crowd. He sighed, fearing he wouldn’t reunite with his family for hours.

He hadn’t personally been among his relatives in over three years, though they’d certainly exchanged recorded vid-messages during his assignment to the Verdon.

Recordings, however, weren’t the same thing as kissing a face, accepting a hug, or eating his mother’s chocolate cake; a delicacy he simply craved.

During his extended absence, his oldest sister had given birth to a child. He’d never seen anything but vid-images of the little girl. She was now a little over two Earth years. It would be good to finally meet her in person, and to be home for the celebration of Earth’s Yule. After his family left Panthera for good―which had been just before its destruction―they’d shuttled to Earth and had resided in rented housing until such time as land to build a home became available. He had an address for that new unseen home, but that was all.

He enthusiastically hitched up the strap to his bag again and headed for the nearest airfield exit. When other officers and enlisted personnel got a look at him in his tan commander’s uniform, he lifted a hand to wave off the repetitive saluting. If the thousands near the exit gate kept that gesture up every time they saw him—and he returned each and every salute—nobody would get anywhere. Rules said he had to keep his uniform on until he reached home. Thereafter, he was a civilian once more and meant to dig out his old jeans and let the party begin.

***

Five hours later, Rorn strolled along a sidewalk loaded down with more bags and packages than were almost possible to carry. He wasn’t coming home without Yule gifts, and there’d been no opportunity to purchase anything until now. His chit-disk was loaded with back pay, he’d strolled by so many shops offering so many goods that picking up gifts was quite convenient. So, why not?

All the shops were welcoming veterans and offering a plethora of goods that had finally been able to make it to Earth when pirate blockades were broken a little over a year ago. A full wallet and plentiful merchandise made the pleasant task of selecting Yule presents that much easier.

He should have felt drained by the walking, shopping, and crowds he dodged, but was so enthusiastic about getting back that nothing drained his energy. He could always rest later. He was home.

His wristband locator beeped. The signal meant he was near his family’s residence. As he kept moving, the steady beeping eventually stopped with a sharp buzz.

He rounded a corner and gazed up a hill. There was no confusion as to which home to approach. Even though crowds were dancing on lawns and greeting each other merrily, an extremely large Welcome Home Rorn banner had been strung across the entrance to a luxurious, six-story silver and spiral residence. The place was built for strength with incorporated Abuvian crystal and chersoite titanium.

The structure glowed like a jewel in the afternoon sun. All in all, his new home resembled a metallic and glass icicle reaching up to the heavens. While standing there, he readily accepted congratulations from merry makers. Shortly thereafter, something caused his vision to blur.

Tears.

He hadn’t shed them for a long time.

Duty and fear of instilling hopelessness in his subordinates kept him resolved to show no emotion. Now, what feelings he’d fought to suppress threatened to overwhelm. Blinking to clear his eyes, he tried again to behold his family’s brand-new home.

With salutations to revelers completed—as was his obligation as a uniformed commander and veteran—he strolled forward through the crowd. His family didn’t know exactly when he’d arrive. Duties had kept him on board for longer than expected. The foot traffic and lack of communication had indeed extended his walking journey. But here he was.

Swallowing hard, he stopped one more time, but not to acknowledge the throngs of celebratory neighbors. This time, he paused to make sure that every second of this homecoming was burnt into his brain.

He had to remember what it felt like to be back on allied soil again. This memory was important not just for him, but for all those who hadn’t made it back.

He stood just where the sidewalk met the perfectly manicured lawn. Earth plants grew in profusion near the front, arched, entrance. Their red, white, and green colors heralded the holiday. In the front window a brightly lit Yule tree glowed. This was a seasonal custom his Pantherian father wholeheartedly embraced after his Earth mother introduced it into their lives.

I’m finally back. I’m really here. No more ordering people to their deaths. No more killing. No more missing the best part of life while flying in deep, endless and cold space. No more infinite nights in the stars remembering—remembering her.

Emotion threatened to tear apart his best efforts to remain stoic.

He stooped to put his packages, bags, boxes, and gear down. For him, this homecoming represented a new start. He needed peace. He needed his kin.

For those few silent moments Rorn stood there motionless, literally unable to take one more step.

If he’d made excuses for the blurring vision before, he couldn’t now. Tears finally flowed freely down his cheeks just as a face appeared in an upper story, crystalline window. Only a moment later, the front doors burst open. His beautiful, blonde mother raced down the slightly sloped lawn toward him. She was followed by most of the rest of the family.

He truly was home.