“Quite right, sir.”
“I’m sure you’re correct, Master Chief.” David bit his lip and pointed at the nearest group of CDF ships. “However, this tactical wing will be overwhelmed if we don’t do something, and the only real option is to hit that gap with everything we can spare.” And pray to God that we can survive whatever Seville has planned. He made his way back to the CO’s chair. “Navigation, plot a course through the hole in the Leaguers battle line.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” Hammond replied.
“Communications, signal the Thermopylae, order them and their supporting battle group to break formation and form up with us.” The Themistocles class heavy cruiser and its twenty-plus escorting destroyers represented a powerful space action group. One that, in a typical battle, would crush an opposing League formation.
“Aye, aye, sir,” Taylor began. After a pause, he continued. “Thermopylae signals her receipt of your orders and is moving to comply.”
The next few minutes were a flurry of activity as the squadron of vessels moved closer to the Lion of Judah, and the League forces advanced. All around them, the battle raged. Trading long-range blows, the Lion repeatedly sent helicar-sized shells from her magnetic cannons into the fray. At last, David noted the Thermopylae was in position. “Navigation, all ahead flank.”
“Aye, aye, sir.”
The deck plates of the massive warship hummed as their sublight engines engaged at maximum thrust. It was enough to be felt through the soles of David’s combat boots. “TAO, status of forward and aft VRLS reload?”
“Completed, sir.”
That opens up my playbook, just a hair. David stared at the tactical plot yet again and picked out his first series of targets. “TAO, firing point procedures, Master Seven hundred thirty-one and Master Eight hundred ninety-two, magnetic cannons, and neutron beams.” The two Rand class cruisers were the closest capital ships.
“Firing solutions set, sir.” Ruth cranked her head around. “There’s a lot of destroyers we could work over, sir, that are closer and easier to hit.”
“I’m aware of that, Captain,” David replied, his tone curt. “However, our escorts will handle them. I want to knock out the big guns.”
“Understood, sir.”
I suppose I can’t blame her for wanting to increase the tonnage of destroyed Leaguers. David locked his eyes on the screen showing a picture of the battle—at least with red and blue icons. The moment they entered maximum range, he glanced toward Ruth. “TAO, match bearings, shoot, all weapons.”
Both the Lion of Judah and her consorts went to work. Magnetic cannon shells, neutron beams, and missiles roared out from the array of escorts around them, while the Lion’s weapons spoke as one. Numerous Cobra class destroyers exploded from the onslaught, their weak shielding and brittle hulls no match for the Terran Coalition’s best technology. The Lancer class frigates fared even worse; they were no more than cannon fodder, soaking up the incoming fire. That didn’t mean the Leaguers were defenseless, however. Far from it. They gamely returned the fusillade with one of their own, and the blackness of space turned red with plasma balls. One by one, the friendly escorting destroyers took crippling hits or exploded outright.
David shook in his harness as another incoming volley slammed into their shields—which lost cohesion at an alarming rate. “Navigation, come to heading zero-four-zero, present our port side to the enemy,” he called out over the din of battle.
“Conn, TAO. Enemy contacts neutralized, sir.”
“TAO, firing point procedures—”
Ruth cut him off in mid-sentence. “Conn, TAO. Aspect change, inbound wormholes at fifty thousand kilometers! League signature, sir.”
Dozens of red icons popped into existence on the tactical plot. A few blinked out moments after they appeared. Seville knows the risks of microjumps, but he’s using them anyway. Dang it, Master Chief was right. It’s a trap. David stared at the plot, analyzing the enemy's latest move and trying to avoid his OODA—observe, orient, decide, act—loop being compromised. A split second later, he spoke. “TAO, snap shot, closest enemy vessels that just jumped in.” God, please let us catch them with their shields down. He realized with a start he was openly praying God would help them win—a gross violation of his principles.
Ruth didn’t bother to reply as she tried to exploit the five-second window they had between jump in and the enemy vessel's power returning to full. Given the distance, the only weapon deployed was the neutron beams, which moved at the speed of light. Her efforts paid off. Several Cobras and at least one Rand were caught without shields. It wasn’t enough. The newly arrived League ships moved forward at once, focusing their fire on the nearest escorts. “Conn, TAO. Sierra Three hundred sixteen, Four hundred eighty-one, and Three hundred eighty-two destroyed, sir.”
“Communications, order all ships to fall back,” David barked. “Now!”
“Aye, aye, sir,” Taylor replied.
Come on. Come on. David stared at the plot. “This isn’t happening fast enough! Pull them back, now!”
“Conn, TAO,” Ruth began. “Sir, the Thermopylae’s deflectors have failed on her forward and starboard quarters.”
David detected a trace of panic in her voice and Taylor’s too. If I don’t act now, it’ll infect the entire bridge crew. “Navigation, adjust our heading to,” he glanced at the plot for a moment, “two-two-one, mark positive five.” A direct bearing to the stricken heavy cruiser. “Ahead flank.”
The Lion’s engines came to life, propelling them forward as fast as the massive vessel could go. The deck plates hummed with their vibrations as they rapidly gained on the Thermopylae. Waves of League ships came into view, heading toward the same goal.
“TAO, extend our shields to envelop the Thermopylae. Firing point procedures, nearest League vessels, magnetic cannons, and neutron beams.” David leaned forward in his seat. “Communications, signal the Thermopylae to plot a course directly behind us.”
“Firing solutions set, sir,” Ruth called out.
“Match bearings, shoot, magnetic cannons and neutron beams.”
Again, weapons fire lashed out from the mighty battleship as the Lion took on her foes. Bright blue neutron beams, coupled with mag-cannon projectiles, lit up the League’s Lancer class frigates and Cobra class destroyers left and right. Several exploded in the darkness of space, the brief smear of red flame the only evidence they’d ever existed. The enemy concentrated their firepower on the Thermopylae, hammering what little defensive screens it had left.
“Conn, TAO. Sir, the Thermopylae’s armor is buckling.”
“Extend our shields,” David barked.
“I can’t, sir. We’re still too far away.”
David stared at his tactical plot, willing the ship to go faster, but it was not to be. A few seconds before they hit the range at which the Lion’s shields could safely extend around the friendly heavy cruiser, a barrage of plasma cannon impacts on the Thermopylae’s hull started a chain reaction of explosions that ended with half the vessel’s stern blowing off. He slammed his fist into the armrest of the chair in frustration. Most of its escorts were destroyed in quick secession, leaving him to stare at the screen in shock. “TAO, cover who’s left.” He forced his brain forward. “Navigation, all back full.”
“Sir?” Hammond asked, her tone one of surprise.
“I said all back full,” David snapped.
The ship groaned with alloy stress as the engines reversed thrust. David found himself on the brink of complete despair. The loss of so many ships, especially one of the precious heavy cruisers, left the odds of victory almost nil.
“Conn, TAO. Aspect change, inbound wormholes!”
It can’t get worse.
“League signature confirmed, sir,” Ruth practically shouted. “Master One microjumped and is twenty thousand kilometers away, with her battlegroup.”
Oh, yes, it can. David stared at the tactical plot, momentarily caught in a mental feedback loop as he ponder
ed what to do next. Running through the options in his mind, he realized there were very few that didn’t leave them dangerously exposed. If I direct the Lion forward, we can probably stabilize the line… at the cost of this ship and her crew. It was then the voice of doubt roared into his mind like a freight train. Where is God when we need Him most? The hundreds of thousands of prayers, songs, thousands of trips to the synagogue. What was it all for? The Torah proclaimed that in a time of need, God was there for Israel—that he had a special covenant with them. Some covenant.
“Sir, what are your orders?” Tinetariro whispered after a few seconds.
Then it hit him. What if there is no God? No one watching above, no higher power that made the universe. What if… I’ve been wrong my entire life, and Seville is right? As the thought ran through him, he felt as if it would’ve been better if he’d hadn’t been born. David stared at the plot, mentally calculating the range and bearing to the enemy flagship. I can, at least, fulfill my promise. He determined even with the mass of firepower arrayed against them, the Lion of Judah could ram Master One and erase the League admiral from the universe. Then I suppose I’ll find out if there is a God after all. As he opened his mouth to give the order to abandon ship, followed by an intercept course, David found himself unable to speak, and everything went black.
17
Blinding white light as far as he could see greeted David when he opened his eyes. Where am I? His last memory was the bridge of the Lion of Judah.
Were we destroyed? It didn’t make sense, as shields were still up, and he’d seen no mortal threat to the ship. He lacked perception of up or down, though he didn’t appear to be floating, and his feet seemed to rest on solid “ground.”
There was another flash of white light, and a figure appeared. It wore a simple robe that blended into the background, and aside from a pale face, was almost indistinguishable in the void. “David?”
The voice. His body shuddered as a chill raced down his spine, shaking him to the core. I know that voice. He reached out and put a hand on the figure, his fingers touching the pale face. As soon as he made contact, he knew. “Sheila?”
Like a picture coming into focus on a holoprojector, the figure resolved itself further as Sheila Thompson, David’s best friend and former XO—who’d died years before. “Yup, the woman, the myth, the legend.” Her mouth curled up in a broad grin.
David narrowed his eyes as his mind went into overdrive. “Where are we? What is this place?”
“The in between.”
“In between what?”
“Life and death.”
He embraced her tightly, and she set her head on his shoulder. “I’ve missed you so much.” After at least thirty seconds in Sheila’s arms, he tilted her head back and kissed her. “I don’t need to understand why or how, but I’m glad you’re here.”
She frowned. “You’re only here for a little while, David.”
David stared at her quizzically.
“You challenged God. Accused Him of not caring, in your heart. I’m not sure why, but He decided to answer. This place is a construct where your mind can acclimate itself to what’s happening in a way it’s capable of understanding.”
“That’s pretty bizarre, even for me. I suppose it’s possible I had a break with reality instead.”
“No,” Sheila replied with a giggle. “I’ve watched, you know. I was so proud of you for finally moving on.”
“And then I came back.” David thought back to shaving off his beard. “I had to.”
“Yes. They needed you, so you came. It’s one of the things I love about you.”
Something clicked in David’s brain. “Are you saying I will meet God?”
“Yes.”
“In the flesh?”
“Not quite, but something like that.”
David stared at her, dumbfounded. His mind raced, and he struggled to absorb her words. Occam’s razor would suggest I’m just insane.
“Let me guess: you think you’ve gone insane because of Occam’s razor? Forget that,” Sheila said. “There’s someone else who would like to see you.”
He noticed the brightness of the light had dimmed around him. No longer overwhelming, it was more subdued and easier to endure. Another person appeared near them. Not directly next to him as Sheila had, but nearby. He stared at the new arrival, trying to figure out who it was. Tall and dressed in a CDF khaki duty uniform. It can’t be… Dad?
As soon as he had the thought, David knew it was his father. “Dad!” he shouted, covering the distance as fast as his legs would carry him.
Levi Cohen appeared as if he hadn’t aged a day. He rushed forward as well, his brown hair and matching eyes visible in the light. The two men met and embraced one another powerfully. “I’ve missed you so much, son,” he whispered into David’s ear.
“How can this be?” David asked, tears streaming down his face.
“It’s like your friend said. You are in between the two worlds right now. So those of us who’ve gone on, we can interact with you. As long as HaShem permits us.”
“I wondered what it would be like, the day I died and went to Olam Habah.”
“This isn’t heaven,” Sheila said.
David tried and failed to dry his tears as emotion overwhelmed him. First, seeing Sheila, now his father, was almost too much to process. Yeah. This is a head trip. “What do you do here, Dad? I mean, do you experience time like I do? Do you—”
Sheila put her hand on David’s arm. “I’m sorry, it’s time.”
“Time for what?”
“You’ll see.” She patted his arm, and the intense white light disappeared.
In a moment, they appeared in what seemed like a courtroom, with a high ceiling, two tables, and a tall bench where presumably the judge would sit. David stared in wonder as the room constructed itself in front of his eyes. “Why are we here?”
“Because you must answer for your actions before God,” another voice interrupted. It belonged to a moderately tall man with olive skin and a robust beard that reminded David of his own before he’d cut it off. He wore a simple business suit.
“Who are you?” David asked, bewildered.
“Think of me as your defense attorney. It’s my job to help you answer the charges being brought.”
“What charges?”
“Breaking the Mitzvot of Hashem, of course.”
David’s mouth fell open, then shut itself. God is putting me on trial? The entire experience was surreal. “Which one?”
“All of them.”
“But,” David began, and then stopped. The truth was—and he knew it in his heart—he’d broken most of the laws laid down in the Torah. While he’d prayed for forgiveness, if God wished to judge him, he knew he was deserving of His judgment. “I see.”
“It’s okay. He is just. You know that.” Shelia gestured to the defendant’s table. “Take your seat.”
As David scrambled to move, the still-unnamed bearded man held open a small wooden gate, and they both walked through it. David sat in the chair furthest to the right and rested his hands on the table. “If you’re my defense attorney, how do you intend to answer the charges against me?”
“The only way to answer them is to throw yourself on the mercy of the court.”
“What?” Wait a minute. God wants to put me on trial, and He’s the one who was absent and hasn’t helped us? The insanity of it all nearly overwhelmed him. Rationally, the concept he’d meet God seemed impossible. And yet, here I am.
While his mind still raged, trying to work through what was happening, a white-robed figured walked through a door behind the judge’s bench. A voice David couldn’t quite identify, which seemed to echo throughout the room, called out, “Oyez! Oyez! Oyez! All persons having business before the Honorable Supreme Court of the Universe are admonished to draw near and give their attention, for the Court is now in session. God save this Honorable Court!”
All sprang to their feet as the white-robed figure
stepped onto the top of the judge’s bench and sat. “You may be seated,” he said.
David took a long look at the figure, whose face resembled that of a human, but was so bright, it seemed to glow. He found it difficult to stare for more than a second or two without a wave of fear running through him. Summoning courage, he stood. “Who are you? Why am I here?”
The defense counsel stood and adjusted his coat jacket. “Your Honor, I apologize for my client’s outburst and ask you to have mercy on him.”
The white-robed figure waved his hand. “David ben-Levi Cohen.” His eyes seemed to bore through David’s soul. “I have many names. You know My name as I am, that I am.”
A shiver went down David’s spine. I am speaking to God. His knees knocked together, and he collapsed into the chair behind him.
“Are you familiar with the Mitzvot?”
“I-I-I am, Your Honor,” David stammered.
“To know there is a God. Not to entertain thoughts of other gods besides me. To love Him. To fear Him. To sanctify His name. Not to profane His Name.” The white-robed figure paused. “Is there a single one you haven’t broken in your life?”
“Your Honor,” the bearded defense counsel interjected. “He’s a human. Weak, fallible. My client has attempted to keep your commandments.”
“I do not care that he has tried. I care that he does.” The judge continued to stare at him intently. “You believe I failed you.”
“Yes, Your Honor.” David raised his eyes. “In our hour of need, you aren’t here. Hundreds of thousands of people are about to die.” He gritted his teeth. “Because you won’t help us.”
“Your client confirms his guilt,” the white-robed man said as he stared at David’s defense counsel. “I see no reason to proceed unless he has a final statement before I pass judgment.”
“Perhaps it would be best if I made a plea for his soul, Father.”
David cast a sidelong glance at the man beside him and stood. “I am fully capable of answering for myself.” Confidence filled him that he couldn’t fully explain. If I’m really standing before God, I might as well make the most of it. If not, it hardly matters. “Yes, I admit to the charges against me. I questioned whether or not HaShem exists, or more directly, if He—You—still cared about our portion of this universe.”
Finish the Fight: Echoes of War Book Seven Page 19
