This changes things. It also opens up my playbook. Gears turned inside David’s head as he quickly ran through the additional firepower he’d been given. He sat back slowly in his chair. “Yeah, that’ll put a dent in more than a few Leaguers.”
Hale grinned fiercely. “I’m more than ready to do it too.”
“I’ve got an obvious question—”
Before he could finish, she interrupted. “What I am doing in command of a fleet carrier when I was slated to go to personnel? Yeah. I’ve thought the same thing. I have solid capital ship experience, but I think there’s something more to it. Because of the upgrade program, my ship and I have been off the radar. We were, shall we say, sequestered. I wasn’t available for interviews.”
David scrunched his eyebrows together and closed his eyes. “I still don’t like thinking back to those dark days. CDF firing on CDF, killing our own. It’s not what I signed up for.”
“Me either, General Cohen. I’d personally rather the war be over, and we enjoy the fruits of peace. But if the President would rather keep this going until he’s out of office, well, then I’ll gladly take out my frustrations on the League.”
He held his tongue. Great. Another Peace Union supporter.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Hale said, her voice quiet.
David smiled thinly. “Which is?”
“Something along the lines of you don’t care for the Peace Union.”
Tread carefully, David. “Politics isn’t something I like to get into on the job.”
“Let there be no mistake. I’m here to carry out my orders and inflict maximum damage on our targets.”
“Then why support an end to the war?” he blurted out.
“Because the war is corrupting the Terran Coalition. Because war profiteers like Kalling Engineering make billions of credits while our friends get killed. We won, the League lost. End of story.”
“Until they come back,” David replied forcefully. “The League cannot be trusted. As long as they can project power, they’ll keep coming back. Over and over, until one of us wipes the other out, or we mutually implode.” His voice rose as he continued to speak. “For the record, I detest the likes of Kalling, and all the other contractors I’ve encountered that print credits for themselves while my men and women die. But that’s not most. It's not even most contractors, for that matter. We’re stronger than a few jerks with big bank accounts.” As good as that sounded, I wish I had more faith in the sentiment.
Hale made eye contact with him and held it. “General, if we take out seventy percent of the League’s shipyard capability, would that weaken their ability to project power, in your estimation?”
“Of course it would.”
“Well, that’s my goal here, as is yours. I believe if we succeed, the League will have to accept peace on our terms.”
David let out a heavy sigh. “I’ve made it a point never to have political discussions with my officers and crew. Would you believe, in the last three weeks, I’ve engaged in more of them than in my entire career?” He chuckled. “I see your point, and I agree. Strip them of the ability to produce massive amounts of ships, and the League has to stand down. What’s sad to me is I suspect my children will have to fight them again.”
“Perhaps. Perhaps not. But at least they’ll have a father to grow up with.”
Her words, while clearly meant as a positive, stung deep, dredging up memories of his father. Always of the last night as he flew off in the helicar, never to return. He forced his face to a neutral expression. “In the end, our opinions don’t matter. We carry out lawful orders, to the best of our ability. I trust I have your full cooperation, General?”
“Completely, sir.”
David inclined his head. “Thank you. Would you care to join us during the voyage? I want to host a dinner for the captains of the fleet. Help us to get to know each other and gel as a fighting unit.”
“I’d be honored.”
“Very well. I’ll have Lieutenant Taylor send the invitation. Dismissed, General Hale.” He paused for a moment, then stood and extended his hand. “A pleasure to serve with you.”
Hale reached forward and shook the outstretched hand. “Likewise, General. Good day.”
Watching as she strode out, David was left with much to ponder. More fighters and bombers are a great asset. But why assign a CO who’s openly supportive of the Peace Union? It’s almost like the joint chiefs want a leash kept on this operation. He smirked to himself. This is why I hate politics.
* * *
Later that morning, David found himself, along with Master Chief Tinetariro, walking toward an airlock on the port side of the ship. He’d gotten an alert that Aibek had approved its docking, and the flight plan indicated the shuttle was Saurian. It didn’t take too much to put two and two together.
“Why do you think the XO’s trying to sneak out without us knowing?” Tinetariro asked, her richly accented English betraying her Nigerian heritage.
“You know him, not much for pomp and circumstance. Did you get enough to form an honor guard?”
“Of course, sir. Ship’s security personnel and a few Marines I found wandering around. That’ll teach them to sully my decks.”
David laughed softly. He always enjoyed her company; even though she’d been fighting the war for over thirty years, Tinetariro’s outlook of optimism never wavered. She combined exacting standards with tough love, turning raw men and women into well-oiled machines. They spoke little more until reaching the airlock, and not a moment too soon. He only had a few seconds to review those assembled before Aibek’s large form came into view around the bend of the passageway.
“Attention on deck!” Tinetariro barked.
The honor guard melted into two lines, faced each other, and came to rigid attention.
Aibek, meanwhile, came to a stop directly in front of them and faced David. “I did not mean to cause any inconvenience, General.”
Retorts passed through David’s mind, but instead of uttering one, he hugged his XO before taking a step back. “It’s no inconvenience. I didn’t want you to leave without saying goodbye.” The thought this might be the last time they saw each other alive was suddenly front and center mentally.
“I will endeavor to provide the best support to you and the fleet as I can,” Aibek replied, his words carrying a slight hiss.
“You’ll blow those Leaguers out of space left and right,” Tinetariro commented, her face lit up with a grin. “But I want a promise that you won’t take undue risks. Finding an executive officer I can work with, much less an alien one, takes work. I’m not doing it again before I retire.”
Both Aibek and David laughed. “I promise to do my best, but only the Great Prophet knows the outcome of our path,” the big Saurian replied.
David fought to keep emotion from showing on his face. Despite his efforts, a sheen formed in his eyes. “Take care out there, old friend.”
“Permission to disembark, General?”
“Permission granted. Godspeed.”
The honor guard, in keeping with tradition, raised their hands in salute, as did David and Tinetariro, though the Master Chief saluted with her left hand. Her right hand came up, holding her bosun’s pipe to her lips. She blew through it, one long, low note, followed by a high note, then another low.
Aibek raised his hand to his brow and held the salute as he passed through the honor guard, dropping it only as he entered the airlock. Then he was gone.
The rest of them lowered their hands. “Company, dismissed!” Tinetariro barked, her tone harsh and direct. They melted away, leaving only David and her behind. “He’ll be fine, sir.”
“Is that promise, or a hope, Master Chief?” David replied, the emotion catching up with him.
“Both, sir.”
David forced himself to smile. “We’d best be getting back to the bridge.”
* * *
CSV Lion of Judah
Freedom Station – Beyond Lawrence Limit
November 25th, 2462
After another twenty-four hours spent taking on supplies and munitions, they were finally ready to go. David had spent the better part of the morning reviewing the final manifests and questioning his department heads, including Kenneth Lowe, about spare parts. Satisfied everything was set, he stared out of the transparent alloy windows on the bridge, with an occasional glance to the empty chair next to him, where Aibek would typically sit. It had taken him months to stop expecting to see Sheila’s face, and now with no one there, it felt off, as if something was wrong. It’s all in my head. He’ll be fine, and back in three weeks.
“Conn, navigation,” Hammond began, glancing back from her station to his front and right. “Lawrence drive jump coordinates inputted, fleet shows readiness to proceed.”
It was about now that he’d look over, and Aibek would nod. Without him there, David felt empty. He forced the thoughts down. Focus. Now we’re on the clock. Only the mission matters. He smoothed out his black uniform sweater and took a deep breath. “Communications, patch me into 1MC, and fleet-wide transmission to all ships.”
“Aye aye, sir. You’re live,” Taylor announced.
“Attention all hands, this is General David Cohen. We’re about to embark on yet another mission. As our small fleet makes its final preparations, and we ready to begin the series of jumps that will take us further into the League of Sol than any Terran Coalition military force has ever been since the Exodus, I know many of us are uneasy.” He glanced around the bridge to see everyone staring at him intently. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t uneasy too. We’ll be far from home, without the support of the fleet, and with no reinforcements to be had. Our mission is simple—destroy two of the League’s most valuable assets: its military shipyards at Gliese 832C and Teegarden.”
It was the first time the objective was relayed to the ship’s company in general. Narrowed eyes, open mouths, and stares met him.
“Many of you served with me when we captured Freedom Station two years ago. We had five hundred ships, and even then, it cost us dearly. Now we have ten. We also have the element of surprise, and we must succeed. Make no mistake about it, ladies and gentlemen. If we knock out these two installations, the League will be in a position of weakness during the peace negotiations to come,” David continued. He’d rehearsed that line many times mentally, wording it specifically to avoid the mention of politics. “So, in the end, here we stand. The next few weeks will not be easy. They will be demanding, hectic, and stressful beyond belief as we avoid detection and strike at the heart of our foe. Together, working as one, and with God’s help, we will prevail. Man departure stations and stand by for Lawrence jump. Godspeed, Cohen out.”
The atmosphere on the bridge was tense but upbeat. The crew went back to their duties, while the consoles and the computers powering them hummed. A full thirty seconds later, Ruth turned around in her chair. “Sir, I think I speak for everyone here when I say it’s going to be a pleasure blowing those shipyards out of space. The League has no idea what it's in for.”
Her words opened a floodgate of emotion. There were whoops and hollers from the enlisted personnel lining the walls. Even Hammond let out a cheer, as reserved as she usually was.
David cracked a grin. “We’ll get our chance, Lieutenant. Resume your post.”
“Aye aye, sir,” she replied and flashed a smile before turning around.
“Conn, engineering,” Hanson’s voice emanated from the speaker on David’s chair.
“Cohen here. Go ahead.”
“Reactor is nominal, all systems green. Ready for jump on your command, sir.”
With a final glance at the status screen, David returned his gaze to the vastness of space. “Navigation, execute Lawrence jump. Communications, order the fleet to engage.”
* * *
RNV Resit Kartal
Deep Space
November 25th, 2462
During the cooldown period from the first series of jumps, Aibek studied a readiness screen. He used his finger to tab through various engineering reports and reviewed each primary station—tactical, navigation, engineering—mentally rating each officer’s performance. A soft hissing voice distracted him.
“Void Captain, why are you performing my job?” The voice belonged to Fleet Captain Bihter S’stro, his executive officer, the Saurian whom he’d replaced.
He glanced at her. “Habit, I suppose.” She wasn’t wrong, but he’d been in the role for so long, it was second nature. “For the duration of this mission, refer to me by my current rank, Lieutenant Colonel. Human ranks allow for shortening it to simply ‘Colonel.’”
“This is a vessel of the Royal Saurian Navy. Why sully it with trappings of the chimps?”
Aibek turned and bared his teeth at her, anger boiling over. His voice took on even more of a hissing tone. “You will not use racist language on the bridge of my ship. Do you understand me?”
“Do they not descend from primates? It is not racist. It is truth.”
“Say that word in my presence again, and I will have you relieved and confined to quarters,” he hissed back.
While quiet, the exchange had grown loud enough to attract glances from the other officers and crew around them.
“You have spent too much time among the humans, Void—Colonel Aibek.”
“Perhaps I have. I learned much from them. And for the record, most humans in the Terran Coalition believe they were created by God and did not evolve from primates.”
S’stro snorted. “They deny basic scientific facts to feel better about themselves.”
“Sauria first?” Aibek asked.
“I agree with their ideals if that is what you are suggesting, Colonel.”
“The Saurian Empire cannot prosper by looking inward. Only by standing with our allies and cultivating friendships can we regain our place in the galaxy.”
S’stro was silent. She turned away from him and busied herself with a tactical readout on the XO’s console screen.
I have to deal with this. Now. “Did I dismiss you, Fleet Captain S’stro?”
She turned, and her eyes flickered toward his. “You did not, Colonel.”
“You will treat me with the proper respect afforded my rank and posting. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir.” S’stro ground the words out like they were rocks in her throat.
Aibek cleared his throat. “Prepare the ship for our next jump and notify me when all is in readiness.”
S’stro paused, just long enough to be noticed. “Yes, sir.”
The atmosphere on the bridge was thick with tension after the end of their exchange. Thick enough I could cut it with a blade. Aibek remembered back to David once telling them all that the enemy was outside, not inside. I must find a way to instill that mentality here, on the bridge of my ship. It was then that it hit him head-on for the first time. This is my first command. He bared his teeth and smiled, realizing as he did that the gesture unnerved the crewmembers who saw him.
8
CSV Lion of Judah
Deep Space
December 6th, 2462
It had been a long few weeks, installing and testing drone upgrade packages on the fighters and bombers of the Lion of Judah’s wing. Amir knew from reading readiness reports that the flight deck crews on the Ark Royal were performing the same tasks. Kenneth had come to him earlier in the day and indicated all small craft in the Lion’s inventory were fully upgraded and ready to fight. After completing paperwork, he’d decided to check out the improvements for himself. When he got down to the hangar, a group of contractors was huddled around his SF-106 Phantom, painted with the tail emblem of the Grim Reaper squadron: a stylized figure in black, holding a scythe.
“I thought you were done, Mister Lowe?” Amir called as he approached.
Kenneth turned around, and his face turned red. “Uh, yes, sir. Final QA checks, sir.”
“Is my fighter ready for vacuum?”
“Yes, sir.�
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A smile crept across Amir’s face. “Would you care to join us in a hands-on test?” He had his flight suit on for a reason.
“What’d you have in mind, sir?”
“You’re too tall to fit in a fighter, but with a bit of a squeeze, I think you’d fit in the rear compartment of a heavy bomber.”
Kenneth’s face lit up like a Christmas tree with a thousand lights on it. “I’d love to, sir.”
Amir lifted his handcomm to his lips. “Colonel Amir to Major Hume. Come in, please.” Richard Hume was his XO, and second in command for the Lion’s wing.
A moment later, the device crackled. “Major Hume here. What can I do for you, sir?”
“Report to the flight deck. You and I are taking our upgraded birds out to test the drone systems. One of our contractor friends will be flying with you to monitor the system.”
“Understood, sir,” Hume replied, his posh British accent loud and clear.
“Hume’s squadron is parked across the hangar,” Amir began. “Deck space twelve.”
“We’ll head over there now, sir. You’re good to go.”
“Inshallah,” Amir replied and watched the lanky defense contractor and his team walk away. Turning back to his fighter, he climbed into the cockpit and started the pre-flight checklist. On a bad day, it took thirty minutes to get from cold start into space. On a good day, ten to fifteen. Amir didn’t accept bad days out of his pilots, nor himself. Twelve minutes later, all checks were complete, and his craft was ready to launch.
“I’m a few seconds behind you, my good chap,” Hume cut in across the commlink. “But we’re ready to go. Nice show, sticking the contractor with me.”
“Hey, I can hear you two,” Kenneth interjected.
Amir snickered. “Major, I promised our friend a real-life test of his hardware. Let’s put it through its paces, shall we?”
Run the Gauntlet: Echoes of War Book Six Page 9
