by Daniel Gibbs
“I’ll see you then, David.”
David stood, nodded his assent, and walked out of the rabbi’s office. Well, this is going to go over like a turd in a punch bowl. Best to get a good night’s sleep after prayers, then brief the senior staff in the morning. I’m probably going to shock them, and not in a positive way.
11
The next morning, David rose at his regular time of 0430 CMT. There was something about the routine that had been ingrained in him to the point that practically no matter where he was—if he was on active duty, on leave, on or off the ship—he woke up without the need of an alarm at 0430. After his regular exercise program, he showered, shaved, and prepared for the day. A hearty breakfast and a big mug of coffee later, he was ready to face the decision he’d made the day before and inform his senior staff what was going to happen.
Walking down the passageway that led to the nearest gravlit, David considered what Sheila would have thought. She always was a stickler for doing what was right, over explicitly following orders. He had spent much of the night second-guessing himself but ultimately decided that doing what he felt was morally right—doing as much as possible to save the lives of the innocents on Monrovia—outweighed every other consideration.
Swinging the hatch to the conference room open, David found the entire command staff already present, including Hayworth and Kenneth, who he had explicitly invited. He cracked a smile as he slid into the chair at the head of the table. “This is a record… everyone here on time.” There was something about the atmosphere in the room, he realized; it was thick enough you could cut it with a knife.
Ruth spoke first. “Sir, are we going to move on without helping these people?”
“Those are our orders, Lieutenant. I have every confidence in the sisters to accomplish their mission.”
“I read up on them, sir. While I have to say I’m impressed with what they accomplish…this is a real, shooting war. That’s a lot different from peacekeeping actions and keeping some pirates at bay.”
“That’s why I’m going to be staying behind,” David said. Gasps sounded, and shock crossed the faces of everyone in the room. He looked to Aibek. “Sorry to spring this on you, XO. I went back and forth on it all night.”
Aibek shook his head. “No apology required, Colonel. In a matter of honor such as this… I respect your decision and commend you for it.”
“You will take command in my absence, XO, and engage the League battlegroup the admiral wants to attack.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Sir, how do you expect to make a difference by yourself?” Merriweather asked.
“I’m not sure, Major. If nothing else, I’m one more gun and another set of hands.”
Calvin broke into his trademark cocky Marine grin. “You want some company, Colonel? These guys sound a whole lot like Leaguers. As we all know, there’s only one way for a Leaguer to retire properly. My Marines would love to assist.”
David shook his head in reply. “No… I won’t see everyone else caught up in charges of desertion. I need to do this alone. There is one thing you can do, though. As our updates flow in, make sure that reporter knows about it. I believe that enormous pressure can be brought to bear against the Monrovian government by the Organization of Non-Aligned Planets, as well as our citizens demanding the Terran Coalition intervene.”
“You got it, sir,” Calvin said.
“Everything else ready on this tub?” David asked the room at large.
“Engineering is good to go, sir; reactor is normal,” Hanson said.
“Of course it’s normal. I designed it,” Hayworth interjected.
Despite his annoyance, David smirked at Hayworth. “Love the confidence, Doctor.”
Hayworth opened his mouth to say something further, only to have Merriweather elbow him in the ribs. “What the doctor means is that the team is doing a wonderful job of optimizing the systems that control matter/anti-matter flow, based on the real-life data we’ve got now.”
Hayworth seemingly changed his tune on a dime. “Quite right.”
Still smiling, David considered how deftly Merriweather had Hayworth wrapped around her finger. She was the only person on the ship that the doctor seemed to genuinely respect. I’m going to have to understand that better sometime.
“Colonel Cohen, do we know what the medical situation with the sisters is like?” Tural asked.
“They asked for a lot of medical supplies. I don’t know too much about their personnel except that they don’t have many doctors.”
Tural nodded, his brow furrowed together as if he was in deep thought.
“Anyone else?”
There was a general shaking of heads around the table. “All right, ladies and gentlemen; good luck out there. Good hunting and Godspeed. Dismissed.”
Those in the room lept to their feet as David rose. Standing at the door, David shook the hand of each person as they left; Kenneth Lowe had taken up the rear. As he got to him, he gestured to the side. “Kenneth, let’s take a moment privately.”
“Of course, sir,” Kenneth said.
“I might need your assistance while I’m on Monrovia. Do you think you could work some magic for me?”
“What kind of magic, sir?”
“Let’s just say I might need access to sensor information, or a go-between for myself and the sisters, with the Lion.”
“And it would be better to have a civilian doing that, so there are no CDF fingerprints?” Kenneth asked.
“Got it in one,” David said. “I won’t ask you to do anything that isn’t morally right.”
Kenneth stepped back on one foot. “What about illegal under the law, regardless of the right or wrong, sir?”
“I can’t promise I won’t ask you to skirt the line; the only thing I can promise is that it will be for the right reasons and a good cause.”
“I’ll do everything I can, but I’d rather not get my people in trouble. I guess what I’m saying is, if it skirts the line and I can do it, I will. I can’t ask the others to do the same.”
“I understand… we’re in the same boat on this one.”
Kenneth stuck out his hand. “Good luck out there, sir. Godspeed.”
David took the extended hand and shook it warmly. “Thank you, Kenneth. I’ll see you in a few days, hopefully.”
As David moved to open the hatch once more and head out, Kenneth called out from behind him, “Hope is not a strategy, sir!”
Smiling, David looked back before he stepped through to the corridor. “No, but I’m pretty sure those nuns have a good one after meeting with their Mother Superior. See you around, Kenneth.”
Over the next couple of hours, David tidied up his remaining paperwork, sent a time-delayed transmission to General MacIntosh telling him of his plans, and packed a “space bag.” Of all the things he had to do, packing was the hardest because, for once, he wasn’t wearing his uniform in a combat zone. Instead, he put several changes of civilian clothing, along with his essential toiletry gear, into the duffle, and proceeded to the ship’s armory. Most of the contents of the bag ended up being ballistic armor, an advanced battle rifle with infrared optics and his preferred sidearm type, an MS-19. While the standard CDF-issued projectile sidearm was named the MS-18 and sported special rounds for spaceborne combat, its larger brother was energy based and boasted extreme stopping power. The only downside was it went through its charges—battery packs basically—quickly. He was careful to take a couple of handfuls of the small energy cells to go with him.
Walking down the central passageway of the ship, which was triple the size of a traditional one due to the vast size of the Lion of Judah, David made his way from the forward section back to the hangar space. The Little Sisters of Divine Recompense had docked their assault lander in section A2, near the Marine transports. One benefit of wearing civilian clothes on a ship the size of the Lion was that many members of the crew just hadn’t seen him enough to realize who he was as he waded into the sea of
humanity that overran the hangar.
He made his way over to the area that the nuns occupied and dropped his bag at his feet, a few feet away from Sarno. “Mother Superior, David Cohen, reporting for duty.”
Sarno glanced at him; she was engrossed in a conversation with several sisters who wore long robes and habits as they looked over the gleaming new battle rifles. “Colonel Cohen?” she asked, her voice slightly higher pitched in surprise.
“Just David Cohen today.”
“This is most irregular.”
“I put in for a temporary leave of absence, Mother Superior. I want to be of assistance in freeing the people on Monrovia, if you’re willing to have me along.”
Sarno’s forehead scrunched together as she stepped toward him. “Col…David, it sounds like you don’t have permission to do this.”
“I do not, ma’am.”
“You could cost yourself a promising career.”
David shook his head. “I’m not in the CDF for a promising career. I’m in the CDF to save lives, defeat the League of Sol, and protect my fellow countrymen. To rescue the weak and defend those who can’t defend themselves. As a soldier and a Jew, I can’t turn away.”
Sarno smiled and held out her hand; David took it and grasped firmly, surprised at how firm her handshake was. “While I’m grateful for your help and glad you saw that just following orders isn’t an excuse to do nothing in the face of evil, there are conditions to joining us.”
“Of course, ma’am.”
“First and foremost, this order has existed for hundreds of years; it has traditions, a defined chain of command, and you will not alter it in any way, nor attempt to. Are we clear, young man?”
“Yes, ma’am,” David said crisply. Hey, it's like boot camp all over again, except instead of Staff Sergeant Salizar, it’s a Roman Catholic nun. If nothing else, my mother will get a laugh out of this story. He forced down a smile.
“With those understandings, I would welcome you to join our efforts.”
Out of the corner of his eye, David thought he saw a group of people in civilian attire; turning his head to see for sure, it shocked him to see Calvin, Amir, Doctor Tural, Rabbi Kravitz, and Angie all walking across the hangar with a sense of purpose. All were dressed in nondescript clothing and carried duffle bags with them, except Angie, who had a hard case and a small bag. Directly behind them were the rest of the senior officers, led by Aibek. Ruth, Hammond, Merriweather, Taylor, Hanson, Dr. Hayworth, and Master Chief Tinetariro flanked him; the rest of the crewmembers of the ship present in the hangar simply tried to get out of the way.
“One moment, Mother Superior,” David said, turning toward the approaching group. “Ladies and gentlemen… what’s the meaning of this?”
Calvin and Amir glanced at each other with an expression that seemed to say, “Who wants to go first?” Calvin spoke up before Amir could. “Well, Colonel… we’re not letting you go off by yourself. Amir’s going to fly one of the fighters and do his flyboy routine, I’m rogering up to plaster assholes, Doc’s here to patch us up, the rabbi wants to convert everyone, and Ms. Dinman is here to make us look bad. That about sum it up, everyone?”
“I’m here to tell the truth about the situation, Colonel,” Angie said, only half-jokingly.
“And Jews do not try to gain converts, for the last time, Colonel Demood,” Kravitz added.
“Do I need to remind you that the Lion is going to fight the League? That’s where you all need to be,” David managed to say after the laughter from the exchange had died down.
“My understanding is that you’re on a temporary leave of absence, Colonel. I believe Colonel Aibek is now the chief Saurian in charge,” Calvin said, seemingly reveling in the role of spokesman for the group.
“Still, I can’t ask you to risk your lives to help me with this endeavor. It’s something I need to do.”
“You’re not asking, Colonel. We’re coming. That’s what friends do, and friends also sign up to shoot Leaguers any time we can.”
David smirked. “There’s no Leaguers here yet.”
“That we know of. Besides, they want to join the League. Good enough for me.”
“We were thinking about parking the ship here and offering fire support, Colonel,” Ruth said with a grin on her face.
David smiled and looked into the eyes of each one of them; he knew he wasn’t going to be able to change anyone’s mind. “Okay, let’s say I agree to this… you still have to convince Mother Superior Sarno.”
Sarno walked over, her gown almost dragging on the floor behind her. “As I told David, you are all welcome. You will follow my orders, you will obey the rules of our order, and you will not attempt to change the way that we do things. If you agree, board the lander. We’re ready to go.”
David’s gaze shifted to Aibek. “XO, are you sure about this?”
“I am certain we will be combat ready, even with the loss of several fine officers. This mission on Monrovia is important. It is important enough to send some of our best assets to act as force multipliers, as you humans would say.”
David smirked; Aibek had studiously picked up human military slang. “Okay. Those of you out of uniform, with me. Everyone else, get back to your stations and make me proud.”
While Calvin and the others moved toward the assault lander, the rest of the senior staff brought themselves to attention and saluted.
David brought his hand to his brow and snapped off a crisp salute in return. “Carry on, ladies and gentlemen… and XO, don’t scratch the paint.”
Aibek grinned in the toothy Saurian way. “Godspeed, sir.”
Turning away, David walked up the bay to the assault lander. The ship’s computer, once it registered his entrance to the sisters’ vessel, played a pre-recorded message. “CSV Lion of Judah departing.”
Taking a moment to contemplate what he was doing, David hoped that commanding the mighty vessel was still an option after the mission to Monrovia was complete. Even if it's not, this is the right call. He was confident deep within his soul he’d made the right decision.
12
Fifteen minutes after David had stowed his gear in a small cabin that was smaller than junior officer’s quarters back on the Rabin, he made his way to the bridge of the ship at the request of Sarno. Funny how we get used to our creature comforts. He considered as he mentally groused about the small rack that seemed designed for a short person. Well, that makes sense; most women are shorter than men, so they can fit more bunks in by making them smaller. I hope I can make some useful contributions here and maybe learn something new myself. More than anything, he liked to observe other command styles and gain nuggets of information to improve his own.
The bridge onboard the assault lander—which the nuns had named Michael—was unlike anything David had ever seen before. It resembled a church more than the command deck of a starship; the bridge crew consisted entirely of nuns wearing both long robes and habits. I’ve got to hand it to them; they live what they believe. Sarno sat in the CO’s chair, while the nuns worked the startup checklist.
“Welcome, David!” Sarno said as David walked into her field of view.
“Thank you, Mother Superior. A fine vessel you have here. Named after the archangel, I assume?”
“Michael is indeed named after the archangel. He is the patron saint of the military, after all, to Catholics.”
“I must confess, my knowledge of your beliefs is limited.”
Sarno gestured at a jump seat to her left. “You may sit.”
David wasn’t quite sure what to make of the taciturn nun yet; he sat as instructed. “Thank you, Mother Superior.” He took in the rest of the bridge. There were stained-glass dioramas throughout the bridge, showing nuns ministering to the sick, helping the oppressed, and several that showed them with weapons of various types, fighting off other soldiers, and in one, a demon.
David tried making small talk. “I’m very impressed with what you’ve done to this ship.”
&
nbsp; “It’s been with us for many years now. As the flagship of our small fleet, we’ve tried to make it into a reflection of who we are and our values.”
“How do you handle repairs after battle damage?” David asked.
“We typically do not get into ship-to-ship engagements; our assault landers aren’t equipped for that kind of combat. They carry our drop pods, which can be jettisoned from orbit or closer to the surface and have limited anti-ship weaponry. That was part of my deal with General MacIntosh. We get a destroyer from mothballs in exchange for completion of the mission.”
“A destroyer?” David asked, his eyebrow shooting up in surprise.
“I’ve wanted to be able to protect civilian shipping in the neutral areas of space for some time. Many groups of pirates prey on the weak. Even an older destroyer would be more than a match for them. We could do much good.”
“You and your order certainly dream big, Mother Superior.”
“There are always more good deeds to accomplish, but now we’ve got twelve ships to land and a military base to occupy. Are your compatriots settled?”
David nodded. “Yes, ma’am. Colonel Demood embedded himself with one of your platoons, while Colonel Amir is flying wing to your squadron leader, and everyone else is safely strapped in.”
“This reporter… do you know her?” Sarno asked.
“I’ve known her for several weeks now. I’ve never been a big fan of the press outside of Canaan News Network. I don’t like what I perceive to be a biased presentation of the facts.”
Sarno harrumphed loudly. “I think what you mean to say is that you don’t like a presentation of the facts that are negative against you.”
David smiled. “I suppose you might be right. I see the CDF as the one thing standing in the way of the League and total domination of our country. I’m sensitive to people who criticize it.”
“Allow me to make an observation on the human condition for you. We judge one another based on the outcome of our actions; we judge ourselves on the intent of our actions. Can you see what the problem might be?”
