by Daniel Gibbs
Justin sat mutely as the Marine continued, pondering his words. As he played them over in his mind, a question emerged. He was willing to risk his life in fighting for the freedoms and ideals of the Terran Coalition. So why is it so difficult to accept that someone would risk their life and liberty for faith?
“But that’s not the biggest thing I’ve had to confront.” Nishimura set his jaw. “I went into the fight wanting to kill everyone on that ship. Frankly, I was pissed off Colonel Tehrani had ordered the use of stun rounds. From my perspective, the only good Leaguer was a dead Leaguer after what those bastards pulled on us at Canaan.” He sucked in a breath. “I’ve had to admit to myself there are decent people in the League, and it’s wrong for me to hate them.”
Justin took a few moments to process the entirety of what Nishimura had said. A light bulb turned on in his mind. “If we don’t hate them, how can we be okay with killing them? I thought the entire point was to dehumanize the enemy so they’re easy to kill.”
“I suppose that’s the easy way out,” Nishimura replied. “Though I’d submit to you after reflection, the far healthier way to go about it is to count the costs and keep perspective in fighting the enemy. So we don’t become just like them.”
“This is some deep discussion for breakfast.”
“Hey, that’s what you get for coming to Marine country. We’re not only sharp uniforms and gleaming rifle drills.” Nishimura’s deep laugh seemed to fill the air. “Now, what’s eating you?”
Justin took another bite and swallowed. “If I were to try to put a finger on it, I’d say I felt empty inside. Which I realize sounds stupid.”
“Not at all. All of us feel the same way at some point. That’s what the shrinks are there for and the support groups when we get home. At least, I remember my father having them.”
“He served?”
Nishimura nodded. “Second Saurian War, TCMC. I come by my occupation honestly.”
“I think I’m the first person in my family to serve in some time. A few generations back, some cousins were in the CDF, but we don’t have a big family tradition of service.” Justin shrugged as he sipped his coffee. “Truthfully, I didn’t realize what it meant to be a part of something bigger than myself until this war started.”
“You’re not the only one,” Nishimura said with a snort. “Lots of young Marines don’t seem to get it until people start shooting at them.” His expression softened. “But that’s okay. What matters is you youngsters get it in the end.”
“I’ve tried to fill the emptiness, but nothing’s worked so far.”
Nishimura furrowed his brow. “Without trying to offend you, I’d mention I’ve found solace in my faith as of late.”
“That would be one of the few things, besides getting drunk every night, I haven’t done yet.” And there it is again, the enjoinment to try God. Justin crossed his arms.
“Hey, I get it. You’re tired of hearing people tell you about religion, right?”
“Well, to be fair, no one’s pestered me. It’s just all around the place, and yeah, I get sick of it.” Justin shrugged. “I don’t believe in a higher power. There’s little evidence to support it, and it’s more likely to me we’re a result of random chance.” As he uttered the words, a voice tugged at the back of his mind. Do I really believe that? Some of the incredible luck he’d experienced came to the forefront. I probably shouldn’t be alive, yet I am. Is it proof that low-probability events occur or something else?
“It’s something you’re going to have to figure out for yourself,” Nishimura replied. “But for the sake of your squadron mates, you’ve got to do something about the mood,” he said frankly. “Mental distractions are deadly, not only to you but also to your brothers and sisters fighting beside you.”
Justin processed Nishimura’s words. Oh, if the major only knew. “Got any other suggestions besides going to church?” His tone was harsher than he’d intended.
“Well, maybe talk to a shrink? There’s a few in the doc shack now.”
“Yeah. I might do that.” Justin shook his head. “The idea of going down there makes me feel silly. I should be able to deal with this stuff on my own.”
“That’s what we all think, Spencer. If only it were true.”
Justin finished his last bite. “Well, I’d better get down to the ready room before Major Whatley sends a master-at-arms after me.”
Nishimura laughed loudly. “You’re welcome here any time… and if you need someone to talk to, my hatch is always open.”
“Thank you, sir.” His comment touched Justin. He could hear the sincerity, and it felt good to know he had an outlet for his emotions. Especially since I need to avoid Dvora for a while. Justin stood and took his plate. “I’ll see you around, sir.”
“Godspeed, Captain.”
As Justin walked away, he pondered Nishimura’s comments. Seeing a hardcore Marine officer so obviously affected by a Leaguer was something of a shock. Forcing himself to consider why he detested religion when he’d asked God for help was another thing he had to deal with. I suppose I’m just another hypocrite, like everyone else. Still troubled, Justin pushed the thoughts out of his mind and focused on what he hoped would be another dull day, jumping through the void. If the League caught them, it wasn’t likely to end well.
23
Near Canaan Solar System – Terran Coalition
CSV Zvika Greengold
28 July 2434
Once the Zvika Greengold had returned to Terran Coalition space, Tehrani started sleeping in her expansive quarters below decks. She had much to be proud of in her pilots’ and soldiers’ performances, but it didn’t assuage the guilt she carried for leaving a few behind. She’d chosen to believe all had perished rather than confront the possibility of someone being held by the League. Almost anything would be better than that fate.
When she’d gone to sleep, they were three jumps out from Canaan. Tehrani had, on order from General Saurez, given instructions to hold at the final jump. The next morning at 0430, Tehrani was up like clockwork. After a workout, a shower, and breakfast, she arrived on deck one. The doors of the gravlift slid open to reveal two Marine sentries stationed where they always were, directly before the hatch to the bridge.
Tehrani exchanged quick salutes with the Marines, who stood at attention before opening the portal. She strode onto the bridge to find it fully staffed with first-watch personnel, including Wright, Bryan, Singh, and Mitzner.
“Colonel on the bridge!” a senior chief called out.
“As you were,” she said and smiled at Wright as she walked to the CO’s chair. “This is Colonel Tehrani. I have the conn.”
“Colonel Tehrani has the conn,” Wright said formally and returned her smile. “Sleep well, skipper?”
“As well as can be expected, I suppose.” Tehrani sat in the leather chair and pulled up the interface attached to it. “Ship status, XO?”
“All systems go, ma’am. Ready to jump to Canaan on your order. We have details in both hangar bays standing by to man the sides.”
Now, we go home. She assumed Saurez had some kind of ceremony or celebration planned. Probably lots of media. The thought of the press brought out a grimace. “Thank you, Major.” She turned to Mitzner. “Navigation, confirm Lawrence drive coordinates.”
“Coordinates confirmed, ma’am. Lawrence drive is green across the board,” Mitzner replied.
“Very well. Navigation, activate Lawrence drive.”
The same jump process Tehrani had been through thousands of times played out in front of her.
“Navigation, all ahead full,” Tehrani ordered once the wormhole formed.
A few seconds later, the ship flew through the beckoning maw of the artificial vortex and almost instantaneously exited the other side. The stars changed and came back into focus as the lights came up, and regular operation of the vessel’s systems resumed.
“Conn, TAO. Sensors online. No hostile contacts,” Bryan announced.
&n
bsp; “Conn, Navigation. We emerged within five thousand kilometers of our projected destination.”
Wright nodded. “Welcome home, skipper.”
“Indeed.” Another successful mission and most of my crew safely returned to their families. She had to focus on small victories. “Navigation, bring us into a parking orbit around Canaan.”
“Aye, aye, ma’am,” Mitzner said. “ETA to Canaan is roughly an hour.”
Tehrani laid her head back on her chair, taking in the sights of the Terran Coalition’s capital system, which was bustling, as always, with numerous civilian vessels. The Canaan defense fleet was clearly bolstered. Two large fleet carriers stood watch—the CSV Saratoga and the CSV Abraham Lincoln—along with their escorting battle groups. Such beautiful warships. The lines of the American-built ships were striking, and the two hundred plus combat spacecraft each held were able to project power in ways the Zvika Greengold could only dream about. But it was still our little escort carrier that attacked Sol.
Singh’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “Conn, Communications. I have General Saurez for you on the vidlink, ma’am.”
“Put him on my viewer, Lieutenant.”
The screen above Tehrani’s head came alive with an image of Saurez. It appeared as if he was on a ship. “Colonel, do you read me?”
“I do, General. What can the Zvika Greengold do for the Coalition today?”
Saurez grinned. “Take a victory lap, Colonel. I’m transmitting a flight plan to you now. Follow it, and we’ve got something special planned. Oh, and be prepared to receive VIP guests. Several news crews want to interview you and your senior officers. Some of the pilots, too, if you can scare them up.”
“Yes, sir.” Inwardly, Tehrani groaned, though she kept a tight smile plastered on her face.
“I’ll see you when you dock, Colonel. Congratulations again on a job well done. Saurez out.”
As the screen blinked off, Singh spoke. “Receiving course instructions from General Saurez, ma’am.”
“Patch them over to Navigation, Lieutenant,” Tehrani replied. She turned toward Mitzner. “Navigation, lay in a new course based on our orders.”
“Aye, aye, ma’am. One moment.”
The view through the windows at the front of the bridge shifted as the Greengold altered its heading. A formation of Coalition Defense Force vessels came into view, lined up in two neat rows.
“Conn, Navigation. The course requested takes us through that formation, ma’am.” Mitzner turned her head. “Ready to engage on your mark.”
Tehrani nodded. “Ahead twenty-five percent thrust.”
“Aye, aye, ma’am.”
As they passed each vessel, magnetic cannons flashed in the void along with the blue hue of Terran Coalition neutron beams. Tehrani took in the display. A twenty-one-gun salute fit for the victors of war. She looked at Wright. “They’re pulling out all the stops.”
“Looks that way, skipper,” he replied and leaned in closer. “I think it’s strange to celebrate, with Eire fallen to the League too. But the higher-ups probably know what they’re doing.”
“Morale is ever important,” Tehrani said sotto voce. “As the ever-present dutiful soldiers, we’ll man the line.”
“Amen.”
“Communications, 1MC to my chair, please.”
“Aye, aye. 1MC tied in, ma’am.”
“Attention, all hands. This is Colonel Tehrani. Man the sides. I say again, man the sides and render honors as we pass the assembled flotilla.” She clicked the mic off and nodded almost imperceptibly toward Singh. “Thank you, Lieutenant.”
The Greengold flew through the dozens of warships, like the battered but triumphant warrior she was. As the vessel cleared the last of the assembled CDF ships, Canaan loomed ahead. With its massive oceans, vast continents, and numerous orbital installations, the sparkling blue ball was their home—the cradle of humanity in the Sagittarius arm. Even after so many years of working in outer space and seeing the beauty of the universe daily, Tehrani still found it an incredible sight.
“Communications, transmit a picture of a broom to the fleet.”
“Aye, aye, ma’am.”
“Clean sweep?” Wright asked.
“If there’s ever been one by this ship, it was the attack on Sol,” Tehrani replied.
“Agreed, skipper.”
As they steadily closed in on Canaan’s central military station and the Greengold’s docking berth, Tehrani thought of the refit they would have to execute over the next few weeks along with all the other tasks to be done. They would have little time for rest. She allowed herself a few minutes of pride for a job well done, knowing the next day would be another fight.
Even when the events of the war were at their worst, Jason Nolan tried to find something positive to focus on each day. The practice became vital for him, especially after the loss of Eire. One of the Terran Coalition’s founding planets, it was the capital of the Irish Republic and a crown jewel of the core worlds. While Eire lacked a significant shipyard or large CDF spaceborne installations—which might explain why the Leaguers had picked it to invade—the morale blow was incalculable. Rumblings that perhaps a negotiated surrender was the best option they could hope for had broken out within his cabinet. They could somehow preserve some of the freedoms the Terran Coalition enjoyed while allowing the League to claim victory.
Nolan rejected those calls out of hand. Even though he ran on a platform of keeping the nation out of far-flung wars—police actions had plagued them since the end of the Second Saurian War—they were in a war of survival. Only one side could emerge from the conflict intact, and it wasn’t going to be the League. We hope, at least. He stared out of the window directly behind his desk, gazing into the skyline of Lawrence City.
One of the doors to the Oval Office opened. “Mister President?” Abdul Karimi, his chief of staff, called out.
“Yes?”
“You’re fifteen minutes late for your next meeting, sir.”
Ah yes. An agriculture planning session. If they weren’t smart, thanks to League invasions of their border worlds, hunger or possibly famine could ravage the Coalition. A year prior, that would have been unthinkable. We used to provide food and support to any neutral planet or nation that needed it on humanitarian grounds. “Have a seat.”
“Sir, we need to keep moving.”
Nolan turned around and gestured to one of the antique chairs in front of the Resolute desk. “Abdul, I’m the president of the Terran Coalition. If I want to sit here in silence and contemplate what the heck is going on around here, I will.” He cracked a sad smile.
“Consulting your Bible for inspiration?” Karimi replied as he slid into a seat.
“Yes. I’ve been clinging to it more and more. Isn’t it interesting how in the best of times, we hold God at arm’s length, but the moment they fall apart, after trying everything else, we go back to Him?”
“The imam at my mosque preached on that very subject last week.” Karimi’s eyes lit up. “You ought to send him your thoughts.”
Nolan let out a chuckle. “The Zvika Greengold’s return was at precisely the right time.”
“That it was. Polling data suggests the strike on Sol provided most of our citizens the hope they needed to carry on. Jason, we’ve known each other for a long time, and we’ve been through many a tough scrape.”
“Is this where you tell me privately it doesn’t look good?”
“We’ve seen the same intelligence briefings. The League outnumbers our fleet ten, maybe even twenty to one. The only reason the Terran Coalition isn’t already crushed is they’re not committing the balance of their forces to engage us.”
“Yet we hold our own. Yes, there are setbacks, but General Saurez assures me in six months, we’ll retake Eire.”
Karimi shrugged and spread his hands out in front of him. “I hope he’s right. But you should be thinking about the use of the Exodus fleet.”
“Absolutely not,” Nolan snapped. The
Exodus fleet was one of the most closely guarded secrets in the Coalition. A collection of spacecraft, it held enormous population transports, cargo ships, and long-range military vessels to escort them. It had been created and maintained over the centuries since the landing on Canaan and the Terran Coalition’s formation. “We won’t abandon our citizens.”
“It wouldn’t be abandoning them if the fleet was used for its intended purpose. At least two hundred million civilians could be saved—possibly more if we allowed more capable merchant ships to join.”
Nolan gestured to the open Bible. “You know what I was just reading? When about to be wrecked at sea, Paul told the Roman centurion not to allow the sailors to abandon ship. The soldiers aboard cut the ropes to ensure everyone stayed.”
“You’ll have to forgive me. I don’t know that story.” Karimi smiled. “But I think the point is we’re stronger and more likely to survive together?”
“Exactly. Even if we sent the Exodus fleet off with no CDF personnel except the purpose-built vessels already assigned to it, the morale of those left would collapse. They would lose the will to fight. No, we have to take a stand here, just like we have so far. God willing, we’ll continue to stand against this evil. If not, then at least the galaxy will know we did our best and died for something worth fighting for.” Tears came to Nolan’s eyes. “Did you get a response from the Saurian ambassador yet?”
“Well, you know how those things are.”
“What did she say?” Nolan’s eyes drilled into Karimi. “And don’t spare me the bad news.” He knew the facial expressions and tone of voice of his chief of staff like a mother knew the cries of her baby.
“The Saurian Empire flatly rejected any attempts to discuss an alliance. While they acknowledge the League is a hostile power, they’re not interested in spilling blood for us.”
