by Lucas Marcum
The waiter came by and set glasses of water on the table, and the two women ordered. After the man had left with their order, Karen picked up her glass and took a sip. “So, there you go.”
Elizabeth sat back and thought about it, then smiled at her friend. “Karen, you might have just changed a family’s life.”
The woman shrugged modestly. “Oh, it was your idea. I just made a few calls.” She sipped her tea and suddenly asked, “Are you going to ask her to fill the lead epidemiology position?”
Slowly shaking her head, Elizabeth responded, “No. I’ll tell her it’s open, but after I give her the paperwork to lift the hold on their pass. The civilians in those positions are contracted for 24 months, and she wants to go home.” She looked at Karen and laughed. “I can’t blame her there. If I knew I could get home and out of the war, I’d sure as hell do it.”
The other woman nodded. “Me, too. It’s not an option for us, though, is it.” The woman made it a statement, not a question.
“No. It’s not.” Their kebabs came out, and the conversation between the two women quickly turned to other, lighter matters.
Returning to her office an hour or so later, Elizabeth saw her email notification blinking and tapped the icon. The message opened.
LTC Suarez, See me in my office.
RADM Sanderson
“Fuck,” Elizabeth muttered under her breath. After a fast check of her hair and uniform in her office mirror, she made her way down the hall to Admiral Saunderson’s office. The yeoman at the front desk waved her toward the door. Elizabeth grimaced. Not being kept waiting wasn’t a good sign . It meant the admiral was waiting on her, which definitely wasn’t good.
Entering the room, she moved up to the big desk and saluted. “Sir.”
Admiral Saunderson returned the salute, then waved to a chair and ordered, “Sit, Colonel.” Elizabeth sat quietly.
The admiral gave her a hard look before sighing and folding his hands on the desk in front of him. “All right, Colonel Suarez. Couple of things. First of all, I’m busy enough without fielding complaints from the staff. I don’t know what you did to antagonize Captain Naga, but please don’t do it again. I know she’s a wee bit tetchy, and she’s also politically connected enough to make problems.” He stopped and looked at her, then asked, “I must confess, it usually takes people a few weeks ta make her ‘hate’ list. What did you do?”
Elizabeth shook her head and replied, “Nothing big, sir. I promise. I went looking for someone to fill a planning slot I need, since we’re getting to areas we need experts in. I asked her, and she wasn’t very helpful, so one of her staff helped me out.”
Saunderson nodded. “Aye. I heard. Captain Naga seems hell bent on transferring the offending officer out. I prefer not to, as everyone here has been vetted by Admiral Ozawa’s staff, and if I remove anyone, I have to clear it with him, and he’ll ask uncomfortable questions.” He eyed Elizabeth for a moment, then grinned. “Fortunately I’m a firm believer in making the best of things. Stick that Major…Carson, I think her name is, in the operations office with you. We’ll find Captain Naga new staff. God knows she burns ‘em out fast enough.”
Elizabeth nodded but didn’t say anything. The admiral scrawled a note on a pad on his desk, then continued, “So, regarding this woman ye want for the lead infectious disease physician position. I saw that she’s got a hold on her file for activities again’ the UEA.” He picked up a file and regarded it, then tossed it on the desk. “Bollocks. The kerfuffle on Andromeda 9 was near a decade ago, and people change. If they can’t prove it, I’m all about releasing it so she can either go home or come work fer us.” He scrawled another note and spoke without looking up from what he was writing, “Tell her the hold is lifted. Offer her the job, but if she’s nae interested, she should go home to Andromeda with our blessin’.”
Elizabeth nodded. “Thank you, sir.”
The admiral nodded. “Don’t mention it. Second thing!” He leveled a finger at Elizabeth. Her heart skipped a beat. “You haven’t been going to your meetin’s. It’s not a request, Colonel. Group therapy is part of the gig. Get yer cheeks ta a meeting, minimum of once a week. Clear?”
Elizabeth sighed. She’d been avoiding going to the support group meetings. “Yes, sir. I’ll start going.”
Saunderson gave her a hard look, then grinned lopsidedly. “Don’t feel singled out, Suarez. We all haf’ ta.” He indicated the far wall where there hung a painting of a cruiser. The perspective of the painting made it look like it was charging out of the frame. A small plaque read ‘UEAN Intemperate’. The admiral added, “Even me.”
With a nod, Elizabeth responded, “Yes, sir.”
Turning back to his desk, he grinned again and said, “This ends your chewing out. Get the offer made to Dr. Al-Tamimi, and either sign her on, or get her home. Now get outta here, Colonel. I have work to do.”
Standing, Elizabeth saluted and responded, “Yes, sir.”
Returning the salute, he added with a twinkle in his eye, “Also, stop pissin’ off senior officers. You may consider that an order, if it helps!”
With a smile, Elizabeth responded again, “Yes, sir.” She turned and returned to her office. After a moment’s consideration, she clicked the train reservation site and booked a ride to Hellas City.
****
The aircraft rocked hard, and the engines took on a strained, sickly tone. Elizabeth could hear the warbling of alarms and strained voices through her helmet speakers.
“Chips, two’s gone! Losing power in one!”
Another voice she recognized as Captain Wilkes ordered, “Full power, flaps.”
The first voice again, she now recognized as Mick, the co-pilot, “Losing power in one. Steve!! One!” There was a desperate tone in his voice. “ECUs aren’t responding!”
Wilkes responded in a calm voice, “We’re going down. Get the nose up. Nose up!”
There was a sickening dip, and suddenly the big aircraft rolled hard to the left and lurched.
Jennifer looked at her and asked, “I’m gonna be ok though, right? Probably just some Motrin and stay off it for a few days?” Elizabeth regarded the young crew chief in horror. Her uniform had a large hole scorched in the chest, and her grey eyes stared sightlessly. Her neck and the side of her face were horribly burned.
Elizabeth pressed her hands to her mouth, shook her head, and whispered, “No. No, no, no. I can’t do this again. Not again. Please.”
Sergeant Johannes looked up at her and said in a low, even tone as she cradled the still form of another soldier in her arms, “He was supposed to go home, Liz. Stupid, stupid lieutenant. He was always trying to do the right thing. So stupid and so enthusiastic.” Her voice grew lower and she said intently, as she pulled the body of the young man tight against her armored chest, “Stupid goddamn cherry. You were supposed to go to that stupid, fat girlfriend of yours and your stupid house, in stupid Ohio, and live your stupid, boring life.” She was openly weeping, sobbing, as she held the young man’s body tight to her chest. She looked up at Elizabeth, “Ma’am, he was supposed to go home. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”
Elizabeth closed her eyes tight and focused on the sound of the waves. She was laying on the brilliant white sand of San Clemente State Beach, soaking in the sunshine of the Southern California summer. She rolled over onto her stomach and closed her eyes for a moment, hearing the gentle roaring of the waves. The roaring of the waves grew louder and louder.
Puzzled, Elizabeth opened her eyes and saw that the white-golden sand was gone, replaced by the coarse gray grains of the sands of Desolation. Her armor was chirping at her repeatedly, and the alarms were flashing, but she couldn’t move. Her armor was locked and nonfunctional. She could hear the crunching of footsteps approaching in the sand. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. From her facedown position, all she could see was a tiny corner of sand, and she couldn’t move no matter how she struggled. The chirping in her armor grew louder and louder as the alarms grew mo
re insistent. She saw the flash of a black boot in the corner of her eye, and felt a hand reaching under her immobilized armor, flipping her over and revealing…
Elizabeth woke up with a start, still hearing the chiming as if an echo of her dream. The light blanket on her bed had wrapped itself around her body, restricting her movements, and her body was coated in a light sheen of sweat. She threw the covers off, sat up, rubbed her face, and took several deep breaths to slow her heart rate. She looked over at the clock, which displayed the time in its cool, blue letters. Zero three thirty; the dream had come again, right on schedule. She rolled to the side of the bed, swung her legs over, and frowned. She could still hear the chirping, but now realized it was coming from her bedside table. With a muttered curse, she reached over to the bedside table, picked up her phone, and opened the text message.
URGENT URGENT URGENT ALLPERS UEAN/UEAA ASS’D HQ-TFM REPORT TO DUTY STATIONS TIME NOW. THIS IS NO DRILL. BIOMETRIC CONFIRMATION OF MESSAGE RECEIPT REQUIRED. NOTHING FOLLOWS. ENDMSG
Elizabeth frowned, placed her thumb on the scanner, acknowledged the message, and stood up. Running her hands through her dark hair, she tried to think about what the message might mean.
After a few seconds, she sighed. “Room: Start the shower and run the coffee pot.” The room computer chirped softly as the tasks started. She sat at the table and scrolled through her contacts, and finally found Jason Hara’s name. She tapped his contact and waited as the connection was made. Several seconds later, the young officer’s image appeared. He was already in uniform and moving, and there were other uniforms moving rapidly around behind him.
He said urgently, “Liz! I’ve been trying to call you, but I think your phone was off. We need you back at HQ, now.”
Still groggy, she replied, “Yeah, I mute it so I can sleep. What’s going on?”
The young man replied simply, “They’re here.”
Elizabeth suddenly found herself completely awake, and a cold chill traced down her back. She asked slowly, “Who’s here?”
Jason’s face was expressionless as he replied, “The main Elai Fleet.”
-27-
“Exigent Dawn”
Headquarters of the UEAN First Fleet
UEAN Unified Fleet Forces Command—Sol (SOLCOM)
Phobos, Mars
September 12, 2248
“Signal the First Fleet and all SOLCOM combatant commanders. Notify them that EXIGENT DAWN is in effect throughout the system. Inform Admiral Ortega that he may maneuver the fleet as the tactical situation dictates.” Fleet Admiral James Burrill gave the orders calmly and firmly. A nearby lieutenant commander with a pale and sickly expression on her face bent to her communication console. The admiral added, “Also, signal Admiral Cliff in the Belt Defense Command that she may engage when the enemy is in range.” The commander nodded and turned to the console.
Folding his arms and leaning against a nearby console, the naval officer regarded the large tactical display in the middle of the room for a moment. In the massive holo display, a representation of the solar system shone. The human defensive positions were illuminated in green, human ships in blue, and the fleeing civilian ships in a pale orange. Just outside the faint lines that delineated the effective range of the weapons from the numerous defensive installations in the Belt hung the looming presence of the Elai fleet, marked in red. The numbers blinked at the bottom of the display.
A lieutenant commander whose name plate read ‘McMillin’ spoke up, “Sir, we have updated numbers from the sensor networks. It’s spotty, since they’re blowing away our probes as fast as they can see them, but we have a pretty good idea of the size of the force.” He tapped a control, and the display blinked again, and zoomed in on the Elai fleet. Staring at the display, he reported.
“It looks like we have…two of the really big ones, and thirty-two…correction. Thirty-five type three cruisers. Looks like the standard number of escorts, so probably sixty or so. Call it…ninety plus Elai effectives.” The display blinked with two of the Elai vessels highlighted. “These are the big ones. Naval intel is running analysis on them. We don’t know what they are, just that they’re massive. Early analysis is suggesting north of a million tons each.”
Admiral Burrill raised an eyebrow, looked at his executive officer, Rear Admiral Mohler, and said, “Thoughts, Jeff?”
The other man blew a breath out slowly and shook his head. “A million tons, sir? Damn.” He drummed his fingers on the desk next to him and added, “Whatever they are, that’s a lotta mass. Carriers, maybe? I don’t see ‘em launching before they see what we have waiting in the Belt. I wouldn’t, anyway.”
Shaking his head, the admiral replied, “Maybe. Guess we’ll see.”
Commander McMillin called again, “Sir, it looks like they’re staying in the plane of the system. Coming in behind the Belt, just like the Intel section predicted.”
Burrill nodded absently and asked without looking, “Where are they? Thought they’d be here by now.”
“Sorry, sir. I’ll call them. The station is in lockdown, and I think they were in the data center. Captain Ibson and Mr. Borboa were in there running simulations for the battle staff. It takes a lot longer to move around during vacuum lockdown. Let me see where they are.” He turned and started whispering into his communicator.
The lieutenant commander on the communications console said, “Sir, Admiral Ortega reports the fleet is manned and ready. He states, for now, he’ll proceed according to EXIGENT DAWN.”
Nodding thoughtfully, Admiral Burrill considered this. The plan for the defense of Sol, codenamed ‘EXIGENT DAWN’, called for defensive fire from the Belt, with the fleet engaging any ships that managed to penetrate the interlocking fields of missiles, mines, and fighters located throughout the Belt. The plan also left a small reserve force of ships in Martian orbit to deal with stragglers or breakthroughs. In theory and in wargames, it worked. In reality, it had never been tested.
He turned to his exec again and said, “They’ve got numbers on us.”
With a shrug Mohler replied, “Yes, they do. Our ships have historically outgunned theirs, but still…” He turned to McMillin. “Commander, did those three cruisers arrive from Tau Ceti yet? I think they were due in today.”
With a quick glance at his console, McMillin shook his head. “No, sir.”
Glancing at the admiral, Mohler gestured at the display and replied, “Well, sir. What you see is what we got. Twenty cruisers, about half of them heavies, and some of those fresh outta the fleet yards. One beat up fleet carrier right off a major rebuild, currently here at Phobos rearming and loading fighters as fast as possible. She may or may not make it in time.” He paused, then added, “Oh, and eight system guard frigates holding here in Martian orbit.” He stared at the display and added, “Let’s hope Kathy takes a big bite out of them for us in the Belt.”
Burrill nodded silently and turned back to the display.
****
Belt Defense Command
Charon Station
Admiral Kathryn Cliff stared at the display and pulled at her lower lip. Under her breath, she muttered, “Where are you heading, you scaly little bastards?”
The Army colonel next to her replied, “The intercept cone is narrowing. We’ll know soon enough, ma’am.”
Looking up, the slender woman laughed. “Sorry, Joe. Thinking out loud about where to whack these guys. We need to thin these numbers out, or the Fleet is going to get hammered.”
The Army officer grinned, his tan face and wrinkles giving him a friendly, weathered appearance, “No worries. I’m an artilleryman by training. I’m all about ensuring the first hit is as hard and as accurate as it can be.”
Without replying, the admiral stared at the display for a moment more, then stabbed a finger at the display. “There. Right there. That’s where the fuckers are going to try to punch through.”
Colonel Gallegos looked at her, puzzled, then traded a look with the Navy commander, a Martian nati
ve named Turnage After a moment the other man asked, “How do you know that, ma’am?”
“’Cause it’s what I’d do. It’s mostly open space, the few rocks that are there aren’t sizeable enough to hide any major ordinance, and the ones that could be can be blasted to shit. It also doesn’t take them above the plane of the system.” She stared for another moment, then turned to the communication station. “Commander, notify Juno Station that the Elai will make an attempt in their sector, and to dispatch the 255th and 312th Fighter Squadrons to Alpha three three zero. They are to move under stealth, get into position, go dark, and wait for orders.” The commander nodded and bent to her console. Turning to another watchstander, she said, “Chief Trinidad, get Admiral Ortega on the line.” The man nodded and turned to the task.
****
Headquarters of the United Earth Alliance Navy Administrative Complex
Huxley Crater, Mars
As Elizabeth entered the Naval Administration Building, she paused and looked behind her at the nearly empty street. There was a tense feeling in the air, and the streets were almost deserted. The few people she’d seen were moving quickly, not looking around. None of the food vendor carts were out, and the traffic was very light, even for the early hour. Shaking her head, she stepped inside and punched the elevator button for their offices on the third floor. She stepped through the doors of the office suite that housed the operations division of Task Force Mercy and paused. Office doors were open, and people were huddling in small groups in offices, talking quietly, or watching the news at low volume. Very few were at their desks, and no one appeared to be working. She stopped for a moment at the sight of the staff clustering around, then headed toward her office.
