He regained his bearings almost immediately. There was a shout to his left, and he spun around to face it. The room was filled with technicians - men in green coveralls - and one was running straight at him. He fired, and the fusion bolt sent the man flying backwards to land on the floor in a pool of red blood. In an instant every person in the room had a .44 Magnum pointed at him.
"Where am I?" Ben demanded in broken Baersonnis.
The word Marathon echoed around the room. The High Council had given the ship an English name in tribute to the humans, most of whom would be on that specific ship.
"Marathon," he whispered as he crumpled to the ground in an unconscious heap.

The meeting had gone well, if you didn't consider the underlying tension due to the fact that the Syndicate was not happy about losing Ben. They had discussed putting space stations between the two planets for communication and a date when the Syndicate and the High Council of Taera could come together on one or the other planet.
Rowena removed her take-off restraints. "Caermine," she said to the artificial intelligence, "take us home. I need a break."

I will alert you when we enter the atmosphere.

"Yeah, thanks." Rowena wasn't sure how she liked this new AI. When the war had started they had taken her first one, Leela, to run on the Marathon, as most of the ships in the Taerian fleet needed three AI's to be fully effective. They had enhanced Leela to run most of the ship, but now Durandal seemed to be doing fine on his own. She wondered if the Marathon would ever get home now that Durandal was rampant...
When they had transferred Leela, the Councillors ordered another AI programmed for the Saenaron, Rowena's commuter ship, and a month later she'd been given Caermine. As a computer he was typical, but she could help but see him as a lot less human than Leela had been. He was too mechanical.
Rowena slipped out of the business suit she had worn to the meeting and lied down on the sofa in her underwear. The war had been going on for a year when the Marathon had cut off communications with Taera, and now any information was gained by AI's on other ships, breaking into the networks. It had been a month now, and she was worried. Durandal had locked off most of the system, so whatever the other AI's got wasn't much. Nothing regarding Ben, at any rate.

There were a few men leaning over him, muttering to each other in Baersonnis.
"Where's the intravenous system?"
"He's waking up."
"How long has he been on extended-"
"Thirteen months Earth."
Thirteen months? He had only been prepared for eight months on the extended energy. EE was a Taerian invention that allowed soldiers to go without food or sleep - or anything, for that matter - for a predetermined amount of time. They were put in a stasis chamber that was specially built for the purpose, to prepare their system, and then were given a series of injections - several that actually supplied the energy to the bloodstream, and one to regulate it. Unless Ben had spent a total of five months in stasis during the war, which was likely, he was grossly overspent.
"Mr. Santini, can you hear me?"
"Yes," he moaned.
"Mr. Santini, you are on the Marathon."
Ben turned his head and saw Robert Blake, the captain of the ship. "I need food," he said weakly.
"I know, Mr. Santini. We're taking care of you." The Canadian straightened up and listened to his headset. "We'll be landing in a few hours," he said in Baersonnis to the room in general. He looked at Ben again. "Get rested up, sir. I'm sure Ms. Firedia will be at the station."
Ben relaxed as one of the doctors put an IV in his arm.

Rowena stopped by her office at the Srelaempt before going home. A pile of papers lay on her desk. Shuffling through them, she decided they could wait. As she was about to compose a few letters on her computer, a soft knock interrupted her thoughts. "Come in."
A receptionist walked in slowly. "Rowaena," he said.
"Yes?"
"I have a message for you from Raem Station."
Rowena was paying attention. "About the Marathon?"
"I don't know."
She took the envelope and thanked him. As the door closed she opened the message.

Rowaena- Come to Raem immediately. Santini returned, Marathon landing.

It was signed by Sörmaeth, the commander of Raem Space Station.

The first people off the ship were paramedics bearing a stretcher. As they rushed by her Rowena saw Ben's face staring blankly at the sky.
The rest of the crew followed quickly, anxious to set foot on their home soil. As the Taerian sun hit their pale, deprived faces, they broke into hysterical laughter and merriment. One soldier from the elite Kantellaemai grabbed Rowena by the hands and spun her in a circle, shouting, "I'm alive! I'm home!" repeatedly in a dialect of the southern hemisphere. Before he rushed off to the barracks he embraced her in a suffocating hug.
The surviving humans came out next. They looked happy, but seemed to be reserving their utter joy for the return to Earth. Last came the Black Razors. Out of the thirty of them that had been sent only ten survived, and one had already been rushed past on a stretcher.
Rowena greeted the humans in English. "Welcome home. How are you feeling?"
"Tired," one young woman admitted.
"You'll get some rest tonight, and you'll be back on Earth by tomorrow afternoon."
"What about Santini?" asked a man about Ben's age with a French accent.
"I don't know," Rowena admitted. "I'm going to talk to the doctors. We'll take care of him."
The last man out of the ship was Captain Robert Blake. He stood at the top of the steps and looked down at Rowena. "Could I speak to you, Ms. Firedia?"
"Of course." She mounted the steps and walked into the Marathon with Blake.
"I'm worried about Santini," he admitted.
"We all are."
"Yes, well, before we got control of the ship again, Durandal was sending him out solo. He wasn't the only one going alone, but the missions he went on were practically suicide. He had almost no support. He was even against us a few times. I'm worried about his mental stability."
"After going through that, or you think he went crazy and that's why he was shooting his own people?"
"I don't know."
Rowena nodded. "I understand. I'll talk to him."
"Do you think he'll talk to you?"
"If he talks to anyone it'll be me."

Taerian hospitals aren't much like those on Earth. Instead of the drab, monotonous, sickly white so typical for human medical buildings, the walls of the Taerian buildings are like those of any other house. Beds are comfortable, with as many blankets as one needs, and members of the staff wear regular clothes. The room Ben Santini was in had off-white walls and could easily have been mistaken for a nice hotel if it weren't for the distinctively Taerian IV equipment that surrounded the inanimate form under the blankets. He had only been here for a few hours, but he hadn't been awake since he passed out on the Marathon.
Rowena tiptoed into the room. She perched on the little stool beside the bed and looked apprehensively at Ben. A needle in the side of his neck was attached to a thin tube that dripped a clear, greenish fluid into his veins. The tube led to a small box on a stand next to his head.
She reached over and gently grasped his limp hand. The doctors had told her his condition was stable, but that he might not wake up for a few more days. He would be free to go once he was conscious, and she hoped it was soon, because, all personal feelings aside, the Syndicate was breathing down her neck more than ever now.
Ever since the war had started and the three-hundred and twenty human I/O soldiers had been recruited to fight, Rowena had been forced to keep a professional air about her regarding Ben. Now, finally away from the impersonal business of diplomacy, she hung her head. A few strands of hair that hadn't stayed in the French braid framed her face, creating a glowing effect in the light.
"I'm sorry," she whispered in English to her unconscious lover. "I did everything I could to get you back. I had the Syndicate breathing down my neck about you and the other humans, and I had the High Council on my case about the Syndicate... I went back and forth between here and Earth so many times, trying to keep everyone happy. And the whole time you were somewhere in another solar system, taking suicidal orders from a rampant computer-"
She broke off, sensing someone behind her. Turning her head to the side she saw on of the High Councillors standing in the doorway. "Shaev." They didn't exactly get along.
"Hello, Rowaena." The Councillor nodded towards Ben. "How is he?"
"Stable."
Shaev sat at the foot of the bed. "You look tired."
"I am," Rowena conceded.
"Why don't you go home and rest? He's not going anywhere."
Rowena bristled at the Councillor's tone. "I would like to stay here for a bit, thank you. That is, if you don't mind."
The Councillor shrugged and rose to leave. "Fine with me."
She didn't mean anything, Rowena knew. She was new on the High Council, following her father's steps, and only wanted to make the half-breed daughter of her father's "arch-rival," of sorts, miserable in every way possible. It was working. Rowena wasn't in a state to defend herself at the moment. So she closed her eyes and exhaled.
A set of cold, weak fingers closed around her hand and she jumped. Ben's head rolled, rather than voluntarily turned, towards her and his eyes fluttered open. He squinted in the light.
Rowena stood and closed the curtain above his head, shutting out the radiant Taerian sunset. "How are you?" she asked, sitting again.
He tried to smile. "I don't know. I think I'm hungry."
"That's what the IV's for."
He looked at his arms. "IV?"
"Your neck, honey," Rowena smiled softly.
Ben gingerly touched the needle in his neck. "My neck?" If he'd had any energy he would have been alarmed.
"It's the way things are done here, Ben. I talked to the doctors, and they said you'd be released as soon as you woke up-"
"I'm going home?"
She continued, ignoring his interruption. "-but they didn't know if they could, because you'd have nowhere to stay-"
"But-"
She squeezed his hand. "It's alright, babe. I said I'd take you home with me."