Run the Gauntlet: Echoes of War Book Six

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Run the Gauntlet: Echoes of War Book Six Page 3

by Gibbs, Daniel


  His tablet beeped, interrupting the meal. He reached over and flipped it around. The screen showed an incoming vidlink from Chief Minister Obi Sherazi, the leader of the Saurian government. Aibek quickly tapped on the control to accept it.

  “Greetings, warrior,” Obi said as his face appeared, scales shining. “I hope I am not disturbing you.”

  “I am honored to speak to you, Chief Minister.” Aibek quickly swallowed the food in his mouth.

  Obi stared through the camera. “What do you make of the recent events in the Terran Coalition?”

  Our leader is not one to mince words, as the humans put it. “Some humans lack the understanding others do of the enemy. It is regrettable.”

  “What is regrettable is this comes after tens of thousands of Saurians have spilled blood for their cause.” The anger in Obi’s words was palpable.

  “The humans I serve with understand the cost and respect our sacrifices, Chief Minister. If I may ask, sir, why have you contacted me?”

  Obi broke into a broad, toothy grin. “I want to understand what is going on, from the perspective of one of our own. Not from the humans.”

  Ah. Of course, he would want the Saurian view. Aibek adjusted himself, suddenly uncomfortable and aware that his next utterances could change the perspective of how the Chief Minister viewed the war. “Leader,” he began, using an old Saurian word instead of the newer “Minister” title. “Humans have traits which we consider dishonorable. Some of them fear death, others fear to fight. Still other humans believe peace should come at any cost, even slavery. I cannot tell you why they elected this man, Fuentes. I can tell you the humans I serve with are every bit as honorable as the strongest Saurian warrior. They would lay down their lives for mine, which is as much as any being can ask from another.”

  “Then you believe we should stay with them?”

  “Unequivocally, yes.”

  Obi raised a scale up over one eye. “Do you know what they plan to do?”

  “No. Though there are whispers—what they call RUMINT—that President Spencer will take his final days in office to hammer the League as hard as possible.”

  “I see.”

  Aibek watched his leader’s face, its expression inscrutable, hoping to see any sign of what he’d do. “If I may, I believe we should support them in whatever they do.”

  “There’s a motion coming to the floor of the assembly this afternoon to find a separate peace with the League of Sol on good terms,” Obi stated, his tone full of disgust. “It doesn’t help that the League’s ambassador has already made known she’ll ask for nothing but the withdrawal of our forces from the Orion arm of the galaxy.”

  For a moment, Aibek considered keeping his peace. After all, he had a life to live after the war, and if the humans wouldn’t continue to fight, there was no place for him here. But I owe Colonel Cohen. He is a good man, and I should stand up for him and the rest of his race. “Leader, I must urge we stay in our alliance and support the Terrans to the fullest. Whatever they plan to do, the League is an evil we must oppose. The Prophet would will it, should he still walk the universe in the flesh with us.”

  “Be thankful I agree with you, Talgat Aibek. There are Saurians who would challenge you to ritual combat for such words.”

  It was Aibek’s turn to display his teeth in a broad smile. “I will gladly accept the challenge of any such person so they might see the error of their ways at the end of my blade.”

  “It may yet come to that, Void-Captain.”

  The use of his Royal Saurian Navy rank and its meaning wasn’t lost on Aibek. The Chief Minister wants to remind me of my duty to my race first. “I understand, sir. There will be a meeting tomorrow with the leaders of the CDF and the civilian government. I should have more information then.”

  “See I get it, and above all, offer your support to President Spencer.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Walk with the Prophet, Talgat Aibek.”

  The screen blinked out, leaving Aibek with his now cold food. He narrowed his eyes and took a bite. Its temperature mattered little, as long as the meal sustained him. Politics. I hate politics. Between chews, he pondered how best to help his friends.

  3

  Presidential Residence – Truman Briefing Theater

  Lawrence City – Canaan

  November 12th, 2462

  David swiped his hand over a scanner to confirm his biological identity after first scanning his access badge. The turnstile turned green, and he walked through. He’d gotten the summons earlier in the day to proceed, along with Colonel Talgat Aibek, his XO, Lieutenant Colonel Hassan Amir, the Lion of Judah’s wing commander, and Lieutenant Colonel Calvin Demood, the Marine commander aboard the mighty vessel, to the Presidential Residence. All four men had what was called Churchill White clearance, which allowed direct access to the President of the Terran Coalition.

  Amir popped out of the control gate next. “I’m surprised they didn’t swab us down and do full-body scans,” he commented dryly.

  “Yeah, security is a bit heightened,” David said in agreement. “I wonder what this is all about? I expected us to be sent back to the front immediately to help consolidate our gains in the Orion spiral… not get smothered in meetings and paperwork.”

  Calvin caught the tail end of the comment, for he laughed loudly as he strode up after clearing the checkpoint. “Leave it to the CDF to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory with mountains of paperwork.”

  “I wish we had some idea of why we were summoned,” Aibek rumbled as he too confirmed his identity. “I prefer to be on the front, fighting the League.”

  “That makes four of us,” David said. He struggled to push his misgivings aside, unsure of where the Terran Coalition was going or what the future held. One day at a time. If the war is over, maybe I can finally enroll in rabbinical school. The thought was promising, but at the same time, seemed like a cheat to him. They hadn’t won. The League wasn’t destroyed. Those on the front lines knew someday they’d come back to finish the Terran Coalition off. At least, that’s what I believe.

  Little was said as the four officers strode through the residence, following a holographic guideline that pointed them to the appropriate room. The entire building was designed to look like a replica of the American White House from back on Earth, as were many things within their society. The settlers on Canaan had pulled the things they considered the best out of the past and rebuilt them. As a result, everything looked old but regal.

  The briefing theater wasn’t the typical conference room David was used to on the Lion or in CDF installations. There was a small raised stage at the front with a holoprojector and several rows of comfortable-looking seats. President Spencer was already present, as were several high-ranking generals and civilians. He recognized MacIntosh, Dunleavy, and Okafor.

  Spencer seemed to take notice the moment David and the others from the Lion walked in. He stood and quickly made his way over. “Colonel Cohen! Good to see you again.”

  David stiffened and came to attention. “Likewise, sir.”

  “As you were,” he replied with a grin. “Thank you all for coming. We’ll explain what’s going on in a few minutes. Until then, have a seat wherever you like.”

  As David moved to find an open chair, he whispered to Spencer as he passed by. “For whatever it’s worth, sir, Fuentes shouldn’t have won.”

  The only response he received was a small smile.

  More officers, mostly people David didn’t know, filed into the room, along with smartly dressed civilians. One of the last CDF members to arrive threw him for a loop, for in walked General Pipes. What’s he doing here? This is getting weirder and weirder. He’s never outside of the logistics wing. Even with his promotion, this is mighty odd.

  Once Pipes made his way to the front of the room, those near the stage took their seats.

  Spencer stood in the center and gazed out into the small sea of faces. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining
me today, here in the people’s house. The events of this week weren’t what I expected, but until January 20th, 2463, I remain the President of the Terran Coalition. I say that not out of pique, but because I believe with all my heart we must collectively do everything in our power to defeat the League. The next government will most likely conclude a peace deal… therefore, we need to weaken our enemy as much as humanly possible without risking defeat or needless loss of life. I’ve asked you here today to hear a plan for striking at the heart of the League. General Pipes, take it away.”

  While the words of the President were agreeable to David, he was still perplexed by his mentor not only being present at but delivering a combat briefing. Though I admire the President’s desire to fight on. Maybe we can get back to the front. Forcing his mind to stop churning, he focused on the scene in front of him.

  “Thank you, Mister President. I’ll get right into it. I’m Lieutenant General Benson Pipes. Some of you know me, most don’t. I cut my teeth in this war commanding a frigate,” he began, and his eyes settled on David for a moment as the word “frigate” came out of his mouth. “Eventually, I ended up in logistics. It's said professionals deal with logistics, while amateurs discuss tactics.” A broad smile broke out across his face. “Please don’t take that as an insult. The truth is, the League’s ability to make ships is what keeps it in this war. We all know they have a monumental ability to outproduce us, with legions of conscripts barely able to fight. What I propose is the destruction of this ability.”

  Okay, he’s got my attention. David leaned forward in his seat.

  Pipes pressed a button on his tablet, and the stage darkened; a holoprojector snapped on, showing a 3D representation of the Orion arm of the galaxy—the League’s home turf and home of Earth. Three dots began to blink. “Ladies and gentlemen, the blinking lights you see are the main shipyards of our enemy. I’m going to brief you on a plan to destroy two of them before January 20, 2463, and tilt the balance of power in our favor for at least the next two decades.”

  There were audible gasps in the room as shock spread throughout.

  “With respect, General Pipes,” the rich voice of Okafor cut in. “One of those installations is at Earth. We couldn’t possibly hope to attack it. The other two are in heavily defended systems. Unless you have developed something akin to magic, it is an impossibility to attack these targets.”

  The older general turned and stared directly at Okafor. Even from the back of the room, the harshness of the look was unmistakable. “Sir, Earth isn’t on the target list for that precise reason. As for the rest, I have a plan. Now, as I was saying…” He paused for a moment and changed the display. The projector switched to a tactical map of one of the League’s core worlds, Teegarden, only twelve light-years from Earth. “We have scans of both target systems from long-range recon patrols run by our stealth raiders. They show numerous defenses consisting of orbital stations filled with space superiority fighters, patrol ships, and weapons emplacements on the installations themselves. However, the League doesn’t expect an attack here. We have the element of surprise.”

  David could almost feel the questions bubbling up from those around him. Even he had serious doubts. That’s great for the first attack; but it’s a trick that’ll only work once.

  Pipes held a hand up, as if he could hear the unspoken thoughts permeating the room. “Yes, I know. Once we engage, the jig’s up. They’ll send their home defense fleets after our battlegroup. We’ll have to be in two places at once and attack both installations we mean to destroy, simultaneously.”

  “Look here, old chap, I’d love to rub out the entire bloody League,” a voice interjected from the front row. David recognized it as Colonel Robert Sinclair, of the CSV Oxford. “But it’s what, a six-month journey from here to Earth for our fleet? I’m here for the intelligence side of the house, and this sounds like bullocks to me.”

  Sinclair’s blunt assessment, delivered toward a man David had the utmost respect for, offended him. I’ve modeled most of my command style after what I observed from Major Pipes, all those years ago. If he says it’ll work, it’ll work.

  “Not for ships with an anti-matter reactor and upgraded Lawrence drives. Those vessels can make the journey in three weeks.”

  “There’s only one of those—it can’t be in two places at once!” Sinclair replied.

  “Correction, Colonel—there’s seven. The first six heavy cruisers bearing anti-matter reactors are fully operational.”

  David’s eyes opened fully, and his jaw nearly dropped open. Oh, snap. They’re finally ready.

  “Each one is more powerful than an upgraded Alexander class battleship. There’s a lot of specific tactical details here, but the broad strokes are this… we send a battlegroup consisting of the CSV Lion of Judah and our new Constantine class heavy cruisers.” Pipes smiled and stared directly at where David assumed Sinclair was seated when he mentioned the wily spymaster’s ship. “The Lion will carry a stealth raider in its hangar space. It’ll be deployed once they reach the target area of operations and conduct recon of both systems. Then, using commando teams and Marine assets, the raider will capture a League destroyer. It’ll be used as a trojan horse to destroy one of the shipyards from within. The rest of the ships will stage a frontal assault on the second shipyard, then all assets will exfil and head back to Freedom station.”

  Quiet murmurs broke into the open and became loud discussions as Pipes finished his statement. Amir leaned over and whispered into David’s ear, “It’s a most aggressive plan.”

  Aibek must have heard him, because he turned and bared his teeth. “Fit for a Saurian admiral.”

  Okafor sprang out of his seat and approached the stage. “Mister President, you can’t seriously consider this course of action. The risk is enormous. The seven ships proposed for this strike are the best offensive and defensive weapons we possess. To squander them… is the height of stupidity!”

  Generals rarely use harsh language in public. He’s torqued.

  “I have faith we can execute this plan, General,” Spencer replied as he, too, stood and made his way toward the stage and Pipes.

  “Faith doesn’t win battles; ships and soldiers do.”

  Spencer stared him down. “Really? Because from my perspective, we’ve won many a time when our ships and soldiers were at a disadvantage. I always chalked that up to our faith.”

  A whispered aside from Calvin was a momentary distraction. “I think we need some popcorn.”

  It was all David could do not to bust out laughing, but he forced himself to keep a neutral facial expression.

  “It is too risky. That is my professional opinion, sir. As the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, I urge you not to implement this course of action.”

  Aibek suddenly stood and cleared his throat. “Excuse me.”

  All eyes turned to him, including Spencer’s. “Yes, Colonel Aibek?”

  “I speak as a Saurian, not as a member of the CDF. The Saurian Royal Navy recently commissioned a new battleship with upgraded Lawrence drives supplied by our human allies. While it lacks an anti-matter reactor, we paired the drives with enhanced fusion reactors. It is the fastest ship in our fleet, and we would be honored to send it with you on this assault.”

  “Can you commit the Saurian government, Colonel?”

  “Chief Minister Obe expressed to me yesterday that we must do anything possible to fight the League. I will twist his arm, as you humans say.”

  “One ship doesn’t make a difference,” Okafor interjected. “We need to entrench our current positions and prepare for a long period of cold war with the Leaguers, Mister President, not send our best ships on a foolhardy engagement, which will result in their destruction!”

  The rhetoric in the room became louder and more pointed. Other generals entered the fray; some opposed, others in favor. It quickly became uncomfortable for the junior officers, and David was surprised Dunleavy didn’t order them to calm down. Maybe he agrees with the
naysayers. It was too much, watching fellow officers shout at one another. Something came over him and he stood. “Enough!”

  All eyes turned to David, immediately quieted by his outburst.

  “The enemy isn’t in here. The enemy is in the Orion spur. Unlike most of you, I served under General Pipes. He values the lives of those he commands. If he has a plan, it's good. I’d stake my life on it, and I’d rather do something than sit back and let the politicians throw away the gains we’ve paid for in blood.”

  Silence again reigned in the room. Okafor turned toward him and set his jaw. “I appreciate your passion, Colonel Cohen. You would do well to remember, however, the politicians set policy. We carry out their orders, regardless of our personal opinions.”

  “Correct, General,” Spencer interjected with a small smile on his face. “The operation is approved. I was going to ask you if you’d be willing to volunteer, Colonel… but apparently, I don’t need to.”

  “No, sir.”

  Okafor turned back to Spencer. “If you are insistent on moving forward, sir, we’ll need to appoint a flag commander and create a new battlegroup structure. That will take some amount of time.”

  “Colonel Cohen has successfully commanded a large fleet before. I believe he’s more than capable of handling this assignment.”

  David watched the interplay between the two men work out. I suddenly feel as if I’m a political pawn here. Okafor wants someone he trusts in charge, so he can pull the plug if anything goes wrong. Spencer knows I’ll find a way to make it work.

  “This is a billet for a Brigadier General, sir.”

  “Then promote Cohen to O-7.”

  A conversation like this shouldn’t be happening in the open.

  “He’s not had enough time in grade, sir.”

 

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