“I didn’t dismiss you, Cohen!”
“No uniform, so no customs or courtesies,” David called over his shoulder. He nearly gave in to the temptation to add, “And kiss my rear end,” but didn’t. As he cleared the double doors, he noticed a small gaggle of officers standing around General Okafor.
“General Cohen, a word, please,” Okafor called out.
I guess I’m not getting out of here without being dressed down after all. David strode over quickly and assumed a parade rest position in front of the chairman. “Of course, sir.”
“What was that?”
“That was me not giving a crap, sir. I’ve done my part. The war is over, and so is my career. Why not go out telling the truth?”
Okafor flashed a trace of a smile. “For what it’s worth, I greatly enjoyed you putting Rhodes in her place.”
“Somebody needed to do it. Too bad that didn’t happen in public six months ago when it would’ve mattered.”
“Godspeed, Cohen. I wish you fair winds and following seas.”
“Godspeed to you too, sir.” David extended his hand and shook warmly. “Good luck with whatever’s next.” As he walked out of the complex and made his way toward the shuttle that would take him back to the Lion, he pondered what would be next and found himself in a strange place. Anger continued to feed him, giving energy and keeping the depression away. Twenty years in the CDF. What else can I do with my life? Maybe I’ll stick it to Barton for a little while longer.
2
CSV Oxford
Deep Space – Near Freedom Station
January 27th, 2463
The normally loud and bustling operations center floor on the Oxford—the beehive of all intelligence analysis activity on the ship—was unusually quiet. It wasn’t that the normal amount of people weren’t there, Colonel Robert Sinclair reflected. They’re just in a funk. We all are. He stood on the top deck, staring down into the sea of computer consoles. The banner proclaiming “In God We Trust, All Others We Monitor” hung from the opposite end of the space. A quiet voice startled him.
“I don’t believe it either, sir,” Captain Alon Tamir, one of the Oxford’s top analysts, began. He’d recently been promoted again, on Sinclair’s recommendation. “A complete stand down from any intelligence gathering in the Orion arm? How can we possibly hope to know what’s going on?”
“The civilians don’t need to justify their orders to us, Tamir,” Sinclair replied in his trademark posh British accent. “General Ostrovsky told me he’s going to work on getting the orders relaxed. Until then, we’re going to push the limits of our authority and technology to keep an eye on things.”
The invocation of the name of CDF Intelligence’s leader on the military side of things brought a stare from Tamir. “You spoke with him?”
Sinclair flashed a grin. “He puts his pants on just like we do, Tamir.”
“Of course, sir.”
“Anything interesting from the intercept board?”
Tamir pulled his uniform down, smoothing it out as he did. He had a patch on his shoulder for the nation-state of New Israel, with nothing in the religion position. Given the Israeli flag was a Star of David, it wasn’t needed. “No, sir. It's quiet. Too quiet, if you ask me. There’s nothing to indicate the Leaguers are doing anything but what they’ve pledged – a ceasefire during the peace talks.”
Memories of the last League “peace initiative” came back to Sinclair. “Stay vigilant.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I heard that General Cohen’s going to be relieved of command.”
Sinclair whirled around in shock. “RUMINT?”
“A friend of mine in personnel saw the order, along with a posting for Barton as the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.” Tamir’s tone was one of disgust.
“I’ll miss Cohen. Good man, good officer,” Sinclair replied. “Who’s replacing him?”
“Didn’t get that, sir.”
“Ah. The limits of RUMINT. Okay, Captain. I’d like to be alone. Dismissed.” Sinclair crossed his arms and continued his vigil. His mind was alive with ideas on how to circumvent the directive from Fuentes. One thing’s for sure; we can’t take the Leaguers at their word.
* * *
CSV Lion of Judah
Canaan Orbit
January 30th, 2463
The formal order had arrived the day before, instructing David to turn command of the Lion over to her new CO. He’d spent the morning packing up his belongings, mostly from the desk in his office, directly off the bridge on deck one. The message contained specific instructions not to inform the crew. I suppose that’s Barton’s last insult. He wants me to disappear without a second thought. The more he pondered it, the better it felt. Competing emotions of shame, guilt, and anger still raged within. The buzzer to his day cabin hatch beeped. “Come in.”
General Barton strode in, this time in a khaki service uniform, with a full array of campaign ribbons, medals, and insignia. Right behind him was an officer David hadn’t seen before. A middle-aged man with brown hair, blue eyes, right at two meters in height. He, too, wore a khaki service uniform.
“General Cohen,” Barton began. “Allow me to introduce your relief. Colonel William Spier.”
David’s eyes glanced over to the newcomer once again, to the American flag on his shoulder. There was no religious emblem. “A pleasure, Colonel Spier.” No reason not to treat this man with respect. It's not his fault Barton’s the biggest idiot in the CDF.
“I’ve heard a lot about you, General,” Spier said as he stuck out his hand.
There was something about Spier’s voice, how oily it was. When David shook his hand, it felt limp, like the man was dead. The effect was not one to inspire confidence in Spier’s ability to lead the Lion or her crew.
“Let’s get on with it, Cohen,” Barton said, his voice tight and direct. “Are you ready to be relieved?”
“I am, sir.” David locked eyes with Barton, defiance flashing until the bitter end.
Spier spoke up. “I relieve you, General Cohen.”
“I stand relieved.”
“You’re dismissed, Cohen. I see you’ve taken care of your gear. I’ll have the Master Chief detail ratings to bring it to the airlock you’re departing from.” Barton had a broad smile on his face, like he’d finally accomplished something he’d wanted for a long time.
“That won’t be necessary, sir.” David reached down and hefted the duffle—called a space bag. “I can carry my stuff. Good day. I’ll see myself out.” Without another word or a backward glance, he walked through the hatch into the corridor beyond.
Waiting for him were several officers and enlisted personnel. Among them were Ruth and Hanson. They all came to attention.
“As you were.”
“Sir, please accompany us to the bridge,” Ruth said. Her tone was one of sadness, and her eyes were puffy.
How’d they know? Well, it would be nice to say goodbye. David forced a smile to his face. “Of course, Lieutenant.” He followed behind her, while Hanson brought up the rear. The two Marine sentries that stood guard twenty-four hours a day saluted sharply, which David returned as he crossed through the hatch into the cavernous control center for the massive vessel.
“General on the bridge!” the voice of Master Chief Tinetariro called out.
Tears nearly came to David’s eyes as he took in the view before him. Everyone on the bridge was out of their seats as he came in, and they all snapped to attention, hands raised to their brows. He brought his hand up in a practiced motion, one he’d repeated tens of thousands of times over a career spanning two decades. After holding the salute for a couple of seconds, he let his arm return to its normal position. “As you were.” He glanced toward Tinetariro. “Master Chief, how’d you know about all this?”
She flashed a wolf-like grin. “Oh, sir, the goat locker has its ways. That’s all I can say.”
“I want you all to know that serving with you the last two years was the
greatest honor of my life,” David began. As he spoke, his eyes filled with tears and his voice nearly broke. “This ship and crew are the best in the fleet. You’ve overcome so much, defeated the League more times than I can count, and did it all with a focus on honor, duty, courage, commitment—and faith.” A single tear slid down his cheek. “I’m sorry I can’t stay with you to finish the job, whatever that may be with the changing winds of our leaders. But I know you will serve the Terran Coalition faithfully, regardless of what the enemy throws at the Lion of Judah.”
Dozens of faces stared back at him. Ruth, Taylor, Tinetariro, Hammond, plus the enlisted ratings that usually operated the backup consoles. Tears streamed down Ruth’s face along with many others’.
David forced a sad smile to his lips. “Today is not goodbye. I’ll see you all again someday. Godspeed.”
“Company, dismissed!” Tinetariro barked.
Ruth took a step forward and threw her arms around David and whispered into his ear, “It won’t be the same without you, sir.”
“I’ll miss you too,” David replied as he embraced her tightly. Taylor and Hammond shook his hand, as did most of the rest of the bridge team. He finally took his leave, walked out of the hatch, and back into the corridor to find it lined with enlisted soldiers in “crackerjack” dress white uniforms. They all stood at sharp attention. As he walked through the sea of people, he stopped to shake hands and wished those he knew good luck. It took almost an hour to get to the airlock on deck seven, where he would disembark to a waiting shuttle for what seemed like the last time. The entire way, the passageways were lined with personnel. Barton and Spier never reappeared.
Aibek stood at the end of the honor guard, directly beside the airlock entrance. Instead of a CDF uniform, he wore traditional Saurian warrior’s garb, complete with a colorful breastplate of a deep purple color. On his hip was a large sword. As David rounded the corner, he bellowed, “Attention on deck!”
David flashed a smile at his old friend and walked to the end of the line. “As you were.” He turned to find Tinetariro directly behind him. “Master Chief, you didn’t have to do all this.”
“Oh, yes, I did, sir. It’s been an honor to serve with you, sir.” As she spoke, Tinetariro’s voice cracked.
“Permission to disembark, Colonel Aibek?”
“Permission granted, General Cohen.” Aibek stuck his arm out and shook David’s hand in the human way. “I wish you did not have to go.”
“You and me both,” David replied, a sad smile present on his face.
“If this was a Saurian vessel, you could challenge General Barton to blood combat, kill him, and retain your command.” Aibek’s voice was completely level, without a trace of irony or humor.
David knew it was the big Saurian’s attempt at a joke. He laughed. “Well, if you can figure out how to get him over to Resit Kartal, let me know.” He glanced around one last time. “I suppose I’d better go.”
“Stand by to pipe the side,” Aibek announced.
Tinetariro stepped forward and brought a bosun’s pipe to her lips and trilled out the sequence required.
A few steps later, and David was through the airlock. He made his way to the passenger compartment of the shuttle and stowed his gear. For the rest of the trip, he sat quietly in his seat and cried.
* * *
David stood outside the door to Angie’s apartment on Canaan. He’d taken a circular route to get there, stopping at his place for a few hours. Eventually, he decided that even though he oscillated from depression to anger and back again, it would be better to be around others. Perhaps she’ll understand. He pressed the camera chime. A moment later, the door swung open, and he walked in.
“Hey, stranger,” Angie said as she came into the foyer. “I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”
“Oh? Why?”
“I figured you’d get sent to the outer reaches of space to keep away from the peace talks.”
“No,” David said, trying to find it within him to smile and coming up short. “I was relieved of command.”
“What do you mean?”
“The Lion of Judah isn’t my ship anymore.”
“Oh, honey.” She ran and embraced him tightly. “I’m so sorry.” As Angie spoke, she took his hand and guided him to the couch in the living room. “Do you want some tea?”
“No, not right now.” David’s voice was a monotone, devoid of feeling. “I knew it was coming, but it still hurts to the core.”
“All things change eventually, right?” She frowned as she spoke and took his hand into hers.
“I guess.” He put his head on her shoulder and started weeping. “It feels like everything we did was for nothing. All the loss, the friends gone… wiped away. It’s as if the entire galaxy just turned upside down.”
Angie put her arms around him and squeezed. “I’m sorry. I can’t do anything, and that burns me up inside. I’d do anything to make it better for you.”
“Just being here helps.” He bit down on his lip. “Anger… won’t stay down. I’m angrier than I think I’ve ever been in my life.”
“Even during the angsty teenage years?” she asked with a quirked grin.
Despite it all, David laughed. “Yes.” He paused for a moment. “I ripped Rhodes a new one the other day. That’s why they beached me so soon.”
“You what?”
“I told her exactly what I think of her.”
“You cussed out the Vice President of the Terran Coalition?”
David beamed. “I did.” The anger returned, breaking through the surface of the pain and guilt. “Letting my anger out seems to be preferable to moping about.”
“Don’t be so sure of that.” Her tone was cautious. “All-consuming anger leads to some pretty ugly things. I see it every day, David. It’s destroying our nation… and us, right along with it.”
“Maybe.” He closed his eyes. “I’m going to be assigned to a logistics post on Canaan.”
“You’re going to move boxes?”
David laughed again through the tears. “No, I’m going to oversee a few hundred people that do the paperwork to enable movement of boxes.”
“You could retire.”
“I won’t give Barton the satisfaction of running me out of the service.”
Angie sat back with a frown on her face. “That’s not a reason to make yourself miserable. I know you well enough to know you’ll hate that position. You’ll loathe it.”
“I probably will, but I’m not giving that defeatist piece of crap the pleasure of knowing I do. I’ll discharge my duties faithfully until I get enough time in grade to retire as a general.”
She took his hands into hers. “Do you hear yourself? It's not healthy to focus on revenge or sticking it to someone else.”
“It’s all I’ve got right now,” David replied, his jaw set. “So, for now, I’ll feed the beast and let it keep me going.” As he said the words, he realized how hollow they were. I was always the one that railed against giving in to anger and hate. Now here I sit, a hypocrite.
“When do you start?” Her tone was one of caution. She stared at him as if trying to evaluate if he was still David Cohen.
He sat back on the couch and closed his eyes. “A week from tomorrow. There’ll be an official change of command ceremony if you’d like to attend.”
“Of course I would.”
Ugh, way to step in it again. David reached out and pulled her toward him as he wrapped his arms around her. “It’ll be okay. Somehow, it’ll all be okay.” I don’t believe that, but I have to be strong.
“Whatever happens, I’m here for you,” Angie replied and kissed him on the cheek. “I promise.”
3
Ruth stepped through the hatch into the deck one conference room on the Lion of Judah. She was a few minutes early. It had become a habit, thanks to David’s mantra of always being early. His voice almost rang in her ears. With a suppressed smile, she took a seat next to Master Chief Tinetariro. Taylor, Ha
nson, and Amir were already seated. “Good morning.”
“And what’s so bloody good about it?” Tinetariro immediately retorted. “I’ve got a headache, the General’s gone, and I’ve got to break in some new space warfare officer.”
Scattered chuckles swept the room. “Glass half empty this morning, Master Chief?” Hanson asked.
“Oh, bullocks, Major.”
Hammond and Calvin strode in together and quickly found chairs. Not more than a second after they sat down, in walked Colonel Spier.
All present stood, and Ruth, as the most senior watch officer present, called them to attention. “Colonel on deck!” She appraised the newly arrived commanding officer out of the corner of her right eye. She’d met him the day before but hadn’t had much chance to talk. I should give him the benefit of the doubt.
“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Spier replied as he slid into the chair at the head of the table. “As you were.” After they’d all returned to their seats, he continued. “Allow me to introduce myself formally. I’m Colonel William Spier, and this will be my first major warship command. I look forward to working with all of you, and expect that together we’ll make this a successful tour of duty for the Lion of Judah.”
First warship command? Is this a sick joke? Ruth could barely hide the contempt from creeping onto her face. She forced her expression to remain neutral. “I speak for all when I say we will do our duty, sir.”
“There’s going to be some changes in how this ship is run,” Spier said, ignoring Ruth’s statement. “We’re going back to the book. Everything we do will be by the book. Period.”
“Why is that, sir?” Tinetariro asked, drawing stares from the rest of the officers assembled.
Spier locked his eyes on to her. “Because that’s how I work, Master Chief. I expect the rules and regulations to be followed to the letter. They exist for a reason, and that’s how I roll.”
Finish the Fight: Echoes of War Book Seven Page 2
