5:37 P.M. Sovereign Cruiser

The dark sound vibrated off of the walls, cascading, magically, through and around every point on the observation deck. It flooded the area with a tangy, rich sensation that had a calming nature to it, an ability to relax a mind, any mind, every mind that had turmoil spinning through it.

But no matter how beautifully she played it, or no matter how fast and luxuriant, the song couldn't sooth Clara's thoughtful mind. She was trying as hard as she could, her arm practically numb from moving her bow up and down, back and forth, on top of the viola's strings, but she couldn't grasp the calming feeling of this song. She also didn't like it very much. The notes were almost always in the low bars, all either low C's, D's, and E's, with occasional low F's and G's, and, very rarely, some high B's and A's. The entire piece had no major cord at all, so that didn't help matters much, and made the entire piece sound unorganized. All in all, it wasn't a very impressive piece as some people had said.

Nevertheless, she still played on, with the hope that the end, which actually was a very decent ending, compared to the rest of the song, would ease her nerves. Pacing in a circle around the small area, she played the rest of the song from memory, having been taught it by her friend Ardly for a quartet concert she'd done once on the Harvester. The piece, entitled The Joy River, ironically, was one of over five hundred instrumental pieces, that she knew, that were part of the New Age of music.

Praised as being "the most magical and inspirational music renaissance in history," the New Age had been born only five years ago. It wasn't a "renaissance" at all; the bands, singers, rappers, and orchestras all played and sang the same sounds they had for decades. It was just the flavor of the songs that were different; they were more spirited, more uplifting. New Age music was popular amongst the Alliance. It symbolized the fight and drive of the Alliance, and it's neverending, untamed spirit.

So Clara continued to play it, regardless of whether or not it please her mood. She just wanted to play something.

Behind her, she heard the faint "swish" of the door opening, and Clara knew she wasn't alone any more. She even had a good guess of who it was. Expertly turning so as not to hit a bad note, Clara turned ninety degrees to her right, and her eyes fell on the man who had just entered. Sure enough, as she had guessed, Bryan Rawling walked in, watching her intently, with an interested smile on his face. He, like Clara, was amongst the very few people that served on Calamari Cruisers that knew about this little area they were both now standing in. It was supposedly a secret deck that led to the secondary armory. It was a mistake to call it secret though, for it was exposed to one section of the Starlight Lounge, as it overlooked the Lounge's giant observation level and window. But the area was so high up that nobody ever took notice of it.

Smiling her "hello," Clara picked up the pace of the current song, knowing that the only reason Bryan ever came up here was when he wanted to be alone. She couldn't blame him. This spot was very peaceful, not to mention the most acoustically tuned spot on most Cruisers. Except, in her case, for the Harvester.

For now, though, he stepped aside to one of the walls and sat down against the near wall, his eyes stuck on Clara.

The woman ran through the song, now hitting every note as well as she could since she had an audience. But, even though she tried her hardest, the piece still didn't calm her nerves. Distracted by her mood, she ended the song too sharply, and the last note came out very awry.

Bryan clapped his hands sluggishly.

Heaving out the air she'd been holding in, Clara dropped her viola and bow to her sides and shrugged.

Bryan sniffed out a few laughs and grinned thinly. "I didn't know I had that effect on people."

Clara smiled down at him and started over for her instrument case. "Really?"

Bryan started. "Oh, I do?" he laughed. "I was jus–I was just kidding. But hey, if you say so."

She placed her instrument inside the case, the bow next to it.

"Whadaya doin'?" Bryan asked. "You can still play if you want. Go ahead."

Clara shook her head. "No, it's all right. I'm done." She closed the case and latched it shut. "Besides, I need to get back to the Harvester. We're almost ready."

"Yeah we are, but could you hold on a minute?" Bryan asked, standing up again.

She turned to him. "Sure. What?"

"I just came up here to tell you that Michael finally got here." He grinned nervously, the anxious grin he always had when he was ready to be(or try to be)funny. "Intelligence may be good at everything else, but they suck at transportation. Damn ship had an engine blow out halfway through the trip." He chuckled, still very nervous.

Clara's expression turned iron. She turned her back to him and picked up her case. "Did he now?" she said quickly.

Bryan's shoulders dropped in exasperation and finally let go of his restraint. "Oh, will you please just listen to him? Just listen! You don' have to say a word; hell, you can close your eyes–you don't even have to look at him if you don't want to. Just listen to him...please!"

Stubbornly, Clara tried to think of something to say to that, running many different answers through her head and not liking any of them. So, she didn't say anything, and just threw her case strap over her shoulder, and started for the door. She didn't want to start an argument with him, especially not now.

"Hey, hang on a minute, wouldja?" Bryan said, grabbing her upper arm to stop her. "Would you at least try? Please? I'd like you to try; he'd like you to try!"

"Then why isn't he up here?"

"Oh, come on," Bryan frowned. "You know the moment he walked in here you'd leave; you wouldn't even pay attention to him."

Clara shrugged. "Okay then." She started again for the door.

Bryan grunted out a sigh. "Fine. Be that way about it. And if he dies you'll eventually regret it."

Clara stopped and turned to him. "Oh please, don't start that. You always do that, and it annoying, so stop."

Bryan held up his hands. "Hey, I'm just tryin' to be honest here. You could die in this–or he could die in this. Either way, I'd think it'd be nice if you two could settle the score before it's too late."

"Can we not argue about this, please!" Clara snapped. "I've been trying to forget it for the past seven years."

"Okay okay! Hey, I'm not tryin' to talk about what happened, just the after of what happened, and that's what he wants to talk about."

"Then why isn't he up here? If he actually–!"

"'Cause he's afraid of you!" Bryan shouted. He figured that he had just interrupted activities down in the Lounge, but he didn't care. "And who wouldn't be, with the way you act!" He stared at her with crazy eyes, standing up to his full heights and shaking his head. "God, I mean you walk around everywhere stone-faced. Jeez..." he put his hands on his hips. "I'm afraid–I'm afraid to say something when your walking 'cause I'm afraid your gonna kill me! That's why he's not up here, 'cause he's afraid your gonna kill him! Not-not literally," he stammered, now looking like he was crazy, "But he's still afraid." He calmed down and his breathing slowed. "Clara you've got to learn to be able to listen to things that you don't want to hear." He paused and just stared at silent woman. "Just listen to him. That's all I want you to do...please."

Clara sighed in disappointment, and turned her back to him, starting for the door again. Behind her, Bryan groaned again, and shook his head. She stopped before she reached the door, and stared at him quizzically. "I'm about to go back to the Harvester. So you wanna say goodbye or not?"

Bryan returned her quizzical stare, but then his softened a few seconds later. That reminded him, he had to get back to the Courage as well. He straggled over to her slowly. "Sorry. I meant to say that without practically exploding," he said, referring to his yelling a few moments before.

"It's all right," Clara assured. "You're just trying to help. Can't be mad at you for that."

"Well that's good," Bryan answered. Then hesitating, he added, "I'm glad I didn't go too far," ––though truthfully he wasn't–– "'cause I was afraid you were gonna hit me," he said, gesturing to the viola case.

Clara smiled. "No, I wouldn't." He smile widened. "That hardly be satisfying enough. I was thinking more a support beam."

Bryan snickered. "Ouch. Good thing you didn't. A, that would hurt. B, I'd have to punish you for it. In fact, I think I'll punish you now for the hell of it. I'll think I'll take your viola." He reached out and grabbed part of the case's handle—

—and Clara brought her right arm around, placed the palm flat on his chest, and used it to shove him against the wall, pancaking him with only her hand.

Bryan looked down at the hand, faking a serious expression, then back up at Clara. "Or–or not. I mean, after all, it is your violi–viola!" he quickly corrected. "Viola...Sorry."

Clara finally released him.

He stepped away from the wall, bending his throbbing back.

Clara set her viola case down on the floor, and threw her arms around him. He returned the hug warmly; and the two just hugged each other. All of their problems disappeared while this happened, all of their past fights, all their conflicts, everything bad between the two vanished.

They held the embrace for only a few seconds.

"Stay safe out there," he said meaningly as they parted.

"You too."

He nodded his goodbye. "See you out there."

Clara smiled warmly. "Bye." She picked up her viola case and walked out the door.

Bryan watched her until she was gone completely, knowing full well that this could be the last time he saw her. Sighing, he thought back to what they had been fighting about, and was reminded about how war changed everything, no matter what it was.