by C H Gideon
“The only reason Chief Podsednik’s program worked was that the Jemmin had already compromised your computer core, Colonel Li,” Jenkins said, his voice and visage unyielding. “Without Chief Podsednik’s efforts, it’s doubtful we would have bracketed that Poltergeist and knocked it off the board. The destruction of that Jemmin vehicle isn’t going to be glossed over in some round-filed report, Colonel.” Jenkins leaned intently toward the video pickup. “This entire engagement will be examined in excruciating detail for years—no, for decades—to come. And right now, you have an opportunity to become part of the narrative that arises from this important first clash with Jemmin forces.”
Li sneered at Jenkins with open contempt. “Appealing to my vanity? You misjudged your mark, Colonel.”
“Maybe…” Jenkins refused to back down. “But here’s the reality: your ship’s computer core was first compromised by the Jemmin, and Chief Podsednik discovered and neutralized that threat. Now, you are well within your rights to file a report which says that he acted without your knowledge and prior authorization, but I think you and I both know how that will look on your jacket. A ship commander whose data systems were violated not once but twice without his knowledge?” Jenkins shook his head piteously. “Not the kind of thing a promotion board will overlook, to say nothing of the formal inquiries we’re all about to face in the coming weeks and months.”
Li’s sneer had largely melted away and was now replaced with a grim look of distaste. “Go ahead, Colonel,” he urged after Jenkins had let the silence linger. “Tell me what you think I should do instead.”
“I think you should tell the truth,” Jenkins said, diving headfirst into a narrative that could very well land him in a cell right beside Podsy. “You should say that you tasked Chief Podsednik with an off-the-books project to secretly investigate whether or not the ship’s data core had been breached, following reports from the surface of sensor and targeting system failures. And you should say that he, working under your direct supervision and with General Akinouye’s approval, developed an antivirus which he deployed when it would provide maximum effect. Do I need to go on, Colonel?” he asked when it was clear the other man’s contentiousness had all but vanished at hearing the general’s name invoked.
“The general’s approval?” Li repeated.
“Absolutely,” Jenkins agreed, having received General Akinouye’s go-ahead in an effort to smooth things over with the aggrieved warship commander. He leaned back, careful to keep the triumph he felt from gracing his features. “This is your chance to write your name in the history books, Colonel Li—the first Terran commander to outflank the Jemmin. Not only did you shoot down one of their warships, but you overcame their previously-impenetrable sensor obfuscation techniques and helped clear an entire planet of their presence. Now you tell me—” He shrugged with forced indifference. “—is keeping one reprobate indefinitely confined to the brig for a simple misunderstanding really more valuable to your ship and its crew than having that same man attest and affirm the version of events which will catapult you and your people into the annals of history?”
Li scowled. “You’re slipperier than a greased pig, Jenkins.”
“Do I take that to mean you’ll be releasing Chief Podsednik after he’s cooled his heels for a few more days, with a formal demerit added to his file for sexual harassment against one of his shipmates?” Jenkins asked.
“Sexual harassment?” Li rolled his eyes.
“Everyone’s got a façade to protect,” Jenkins said with a light, hollow chuckle as he wore his best poker face.
For a moment, Jenkins thought the other man would call his bluff and that he would not only be down a valuable member of the battalion, but that the inquiry into him would reveal that it was Styles, not Podsy, who had fashioned the anti-Jemmin program.
It had been a minor miracle for General Akinouye to keep Styles out of Fleet’s hands following Durgan’s Folly, given the talented technician’s stunning success in overcoming the Arh’Kel mind-link system. But if word broke of a second, equally stunning maneuver under his belt in as many deployments, Jenkins knew there was no chance Styles would remain under his command.
And frankly, without Styles, the battalion would have already died twice over. The battalion needed Styles at least as much as it needed Jenkins. And Styles wouldn’t survive the regular army.
“Fine,” Li reluctantly agreed, “but that man will never again receive authorization to so much as flip a light switch aboard my ship. Is that clear, Colonel?” the century-old officer snapped.
“As a Solarian’s conscience.” Jenkins nodded in agreement.
Li gave him a withering look before cutting the line, and when the feed died, Jenkins exhaled a sharp sigh of relief. So long as Podsy played his cards right, the battalion would remain intact long enough for Jenkins to face down what he expected would be yet another “informal” inquiry.
19
The Jemmin Conspiracy?
Lee Jenkins sat outside the TRF Red Cliff’s main conference room, where he had waited for nearly two hours in total silence while the board of inquiry within reviewed after-action reports and other materials authorized for release by General Akinouye. The Red Cliff was 6th Fleet’s flagship and was one of the most decorated dreadnoughts in the entire fleet. It had been at the head of the flotilla that turned back the Arh’Kel before they could reach Durgan’s Folly, which said that Fleet wanted to keep Armor Corps’ performance under Colonel Jenkins compartmentalized while they reviewed the after-action reports.
The general had redacted significant portions of the official report, which was his duly-recognized prerogative as Armor Corps’ ranking officer. Those redactions would remain in effect until the Joint Chiefs had fully examined the events of Shiva’s Wrath. Such reviews generally took a few months, but in this case, the general had expected it to take a small fraction of that time given the gravity of the situation.
As a consequence of the general’s information fog, this particular review board was unaware of the battalion’s success in meeting with the Zeen. To their knowledge, which was informed by the carefully-manipulated facts General Akinouye let slip through his wall of redactions, the insect-like species had been Armor Corps’ enemy on the frozen worldlet.
But one didn’t become an admiral by being a fool. Jenkins knew he was about to come under fire from one of the most clear-minded, incisive, and aggressive officers in the Terran Fleet. He had no illusions about “winning” the certain-to-be-contentious interview; Lee Jenkins merely needed to survive so that General Akinouye could come in and sweep up the debris after he exited stage left.
The door to the conference room suddenly slid open, revealing a sharply-dressed ensign in her black uniform. “The admiral will see you now,” she reported.
“Thank you,” he replied, standing from the bench and making his way into the conference room.
“Lieutenant Colonel Jenkins,” greeted the granite-hard voice of Vice Admiral Zhao, who gestured to the lone chair situated before the five-person board of inquiry’s bench, “be seated.”
“Thank you, Admiral,” Jenkins replied, tucking his dress beret beneath the crook of his arm as he approached the unprotected position at the center of the chamber. The curved bench, which featured two empty chairs, wrapped around Jenkins’ isolated chair, giving that spot the undeniable impression of being surrounded. He made for the chair and sat down, meeting the eyes of the review board one-by-one.
“I understand this is not your first time in front of a panel like this, Colonel,” Admiral Zhao said, while his flanking officers looked on in silence. One of those figures, a heavyset woman with light brown skin wearing a multi-colored sash over her green uniform, was unknown to Jenkins, but her uniform designated her a commander in the Terran Planetary Defense Coalition or TPDC. With each of the Terran colonies’ individual Planetary Defense Forces under local, wholly sovereign control and funded locally without Republic funds, the TPDC was less a governing bod
y than a regulatory one. Generally regarded as the “fifth wheel” of the Terran Armed Forces, in part due to PDF usage generally centering on major planet-wide infrastructure projects, the Republic’s various PDFs nonetheless featured more active-duty servicemen than all other branches combined. The TPDC’s representative looked up from her data slate with practiced disdain the very instant Jenkins’ gaze fell on her.
The third member of the board was known to him, and frankly, Jenkins was surprised to see him there as Admiral Zhao gestured to the TPDC representative. “This is Major General Kylie Kavanaugh of the Terra Africana PDF, currently assigned to the Terran Planetary Defense Coalition. And this—” He turned to the man wearing dress blues. “—is Colonel Jonathan Villa of the Terran Marine Corps.”
“General.” Jenkins nodded to the TPDC rep before doing likewise to his longtime friend. “Colonel.”
“As you can doubtless deduce,” Admiral Zhao continued, “this board is conducting an informal, preliminary inquiry into the events on Shiva’s Wrath.” Jenkins noted that the admiral had not used the planet’s official designation of EO-5293, which seemed to bode well for the rest of the meeting’s tone and direction. “You are not required to answer any questions posed at this time,” the admiral continued, “nor will the product of this informal inquiry be admissible in any official proceedings from this point forward. Consider this to be a purely fact-finding debriefing, Colonel Jenkins, so that the rest of us can come up to speed on what went on down there.”
Major General Kavanaugh’s darting eyes flicked back and forth between her data slate, Jenkins, and Admiral Zhao while her expression remained an unreadable mask. Colonel Villa, on the other hand, was neither tense nor relaxed as his eyes barely lingered on Jenkins for more than a second while he studied the reports arrayed before him.
Jenkins nodded, reading his longtime friend’s body language: a battle was about to be waged, and everyone in the room was ready for it.
“I understand, Admiral,” Jenkins acknowledged.
Admiral Zhao leaned forward, and his fierce grey eyebrows gave him a decidedly predatory appearance as he intently met Jenkins’ gaze. “Under General Akinouye’s orders, you and your battalion were deployed to Shiva’s Wrath for what purpose?”
Jenkins had expected yes or no questions to begin with, but it was now clear that the admiral had no intention of making this easy for him. He drew a short breath, gathering his wits as he replied, “General Akinouye had received word of a unique opportunity on Shiva’s Wrath, which included safeguarding automated mining installations of critical importance to Terran security interests.”
“Was that all that the general told you about the mission to Shiva’s Wrath?” Zhao asked, his expression unreadable and his tone pleasant.
“No, Admiral.” Jenkins shook his head. “The mining installations were merely a cover for the real operation.”
At that, Major General Kavanaugh recoiled as she asked, “And what was this ‘real’ operation’s nature, Colonel Jenkins?”
“Using contacts within Durgan Industrial Enterprises,” Jenkins explained, “the Vorr reached out to the Terran Republic through unofficial channels in order to facilitate a clandestine meeting.”
“Under what security protocols was this meeting to be conducted?” Colonel Villa asked.
Jenkins shook his head. “General Akinouye never went into specifics on that front, Colonel, and given the nature of the assignment, I chose not to pursue the matter. Operational security was deemed paramount even during the planning stages, which meant that code clearance level was irrelevant to my people until after the deployment was completed.”
“You claim that operational security was paramount—” Villa leaned forward intently. “—but if that was the case, why was a reporter embedded in your unit?”
“You would have to ask the general about that, Colonel,” Jenkins said matter-of-factly. “But I can say that we cooperated with the directives given to us regarding Ms. Samuels’ presence and her authorization levels.”
Admiral Zhao sliced a brief, but pointed, look at Villa. “The matter of the reporter can be examined at some other time. This meeting is about the mission itself, not civilian observers.”
“Of course, Admiral,” Villa agreed, giving Jenkins a short-lived look that said, “That’s all the help I can give.”
Jenkins was not yet certain why his friend had played that particular card, but he was grateful that Villa had done so as Admiral Zhao continued, “You were aware prior to deployment that you were to meet a Vorr contingent, is that correct?”
“Yes, sir,” Jenkins agreed.
“What was your objective during that meeting?” Zhao pressed.
This was where the rubber met the road, and Jenkins knew that how he played the rest of this meeting would determine the fate of his unit and, potentially, his entire branch of the Terran Armed Forces.
Without hesitation, he replied, “Our objective was to rendezvous with the Vorr so that they could arrange a meeting between ourselves and a third, previously unknown alien species for the purpose of establishing a potential diplomatic dialogue. Before we touched down on Shiva’s Wrath, the Vorr were driven off by Jemmin forces, and we were unable to establish contact with any Vorr representatives. As a result, we were unable to make contact with the third species, and in fact exchanged fire with them on several occasions. I am prepared to describe those engagements in detail at this time since I assume some of those details were redacted in the preliminary report.”
Jonny Villa’s eyes went as round as saucers, and Major General Kavanaugh’s brow creased in surprise. But the admiral’s brow lowered thunderously, and his eyes narrowed into serpentine slits at hearing this unexpected turn.
Unexpected to everyone except Colonel Jenkins, that was.
Jenkins had spent every hour of every day since receiving General Akinouye’s initial briefing on the Shiva’s Wrath operation planning for this very moment. He knew it was a risk, but he also knew there was no other way through this particular firestorm. He was as ready as he would ever be, and it was time to see if he was equal to the task before him.
Admiral Zhao could sense a flanking maneuver when he saw one, and the fierce-looking officer leaned forward with his eyes pinning Jenkins to the chair. “All right, Colonel Jenkins,” he said, his pleasant demeanor replaced by one that was openly hostile and predatory, “let’s get right to it.”
“As I said, Admiral,” Jenkins reiterated six and a half hours later, “we detected an orbital exchange between the Dietrich Bonhoeffer and the lone Jemmin warship in orbit of Shiva’s Wrath. Using the last of our orbit-capable platforms, we engaged the enemy from the surface.”
“Did Colonel Li, the Bonhoeffer’s CO, authorize you to deploy danger-close nuclear strikes against that Jemmin warship?” Zhao asked, re-phrasing the question for the third time.
“Negative, Admiral.” Jenkins shook his head firmly. “I had no direct contact with Colonel Li during the orbital engagement.”
“And yet,” Zhao pressed, “you authorized the fire of a ground-based, low-orbit-capable railgun platform called…” he trailed off, flipping through pages on his slate as he failed to summon the mech’s name.
“The mech in question is the Sam Kolt, Admiral,” Jenkins interjected, knowing that by doing so, he was antagonizing the nearly-unflappable officer. “It features the only low-orbit-capable direct-fire system in the battalion, and I did indeed authorize it to engage the Jemmin target in orbit at the same time I authorized the deployment of tactical nuclear devices against said target. As you can see—” He gestured to the data slates before the inquiry panel. “—my crew have provided sworn statements which corroborate this timeline.”
“The internal integrity of your report is not in dispute, Colonel,” Admiral Zhao said, slicing a hard look in Jenkins’ direction.
Jenkins feigned surprise, which quickly morphed into a veneer of equally false indignity. “If the admiral is suggesting—“
“I am not suggesting anything, Colonel,” Zhao interrupted tersely. “I am saying, unequivocally and without reservation, that this story of yours stinks worse than an Arh’Kel’s guts. Never in my…” he trailed off, his jugular veins bulging in tandem with a particularly gnarled-looking vein in his forehead. The admiral looked ready to explode with anger and forcibly sat back in his chair as he tried to relax.
Seven hours earlier, Jenkins would have never believed what he was seeing were possible. Admiral Zhao, one of the most fearsome living human warriors, was flustered and cracks were beginning to form in his impeccable veneer. But Jenkins didn’t put it past the man to be laying some sort of trap designed to lower his guard, and a quick look at the white-faced Villa at Zhao’s side seemed to support Jenkins’ assessment.
The admiral leaned forward, his glare furious but his voice once again controlled. “Never in my career have I seen such a painstakingly crafted and patently absurd narrative, Lieutenant Colonel Jenkins. You expect this board—” He gestured to the officers flanking him. “—to believe that you went to this planet to conduct a secret diplomatic mission, using an intermediary alien species to introduce your contingent to representatives from yet another, hitherto unknown alien species, only to run into a string of such historically bad luck that not only were you unable to contact said species, but you ended up fighting them to the death instead?” Zhao snorted scornfully. “Frankly, Colonel Jenkins, no one is that unlucky—and this board is not that stupid. No one in Terran Armed Forces history who has attained the rank of field officer, as you have somehow managed,” he sneered with unveiled contempt, his veneer of control peeling further back with each passing word, “and been entrusted with such an important mission has been so utterly incompetent that he misplayed a diplomatic situation to the unfathomable degree that he ended up killing the very envoy he was sent to meet. It stinks, Colonel!” he roared, standing from his chair and driving his knuckles into the bench-top. “And I intend to get to the bottom of it!”
