by Lance Berry
As I recall, none of us have been off-ship since you came aboard three years ago. We’ll use whatever spare time we’ll have here to just relax and enjoy ourselves, and none of us are going back up to the ship unless Hugh absolutely needs us. And just so you’ll know…this was Doctor Barrows’ idea.”
“You’re joking—!”
“He’s dead serious,” Tamamura piped in. “Lana was just about ready to write James and me up so that we’d have no choice but to take a rest. And Hugh knows the deal—he’s good with it.”
“Although we do owe him an actual bottle of Vongerichten sherry in return,” Stubbs said with a mild roll of his eyes. “How I’m ever going to get that aboard the transport and up to the ship, I—oh, thank you.”
“Your keypads, sir,” the concierge said as he handed Stubbs three credit-card sized badges, then held them all in a steady gaze as he addressed the group. “Once you go to your rooms, you’ll find the doors unlocked and the keypads flashing for you to encode them. Press your right thumb to the lock, the pads will automatically encode and you’ll hear the locks cycling into place. Press your thumb to the pad again, the door will unlock.
The badges will unlock the door if there’s any problem.
Otherwise, the pads will be encoded to your bio-signatures only during your time here. I hope you enjoy your stay.”
“Thank you,” Stubbs said, then pressed his thumb to the dsp proffered by the concierge, signaling his acceptance of the bill.
As the trio headed to the lift, Mara shook her head in wonderment. “I can’t believe you guys didn’t tell me about this!
I didn’t bring any luggage, I don’t have a bathing suit—”
“If we told you, it wouldn’t have been a surprise,”
Tamamura said. “Besides, get what you want while you’re here…that’s what the duty-free recycle shops are for.”
Chapter 21
Mara was amazed at how large her suite was. The floor had lush white carpeting, a large circular dining table set near a corner of the room with a wine glass, silverware and a plate already set upon it. The bathroom had a sit-down shower with a mini-sauna adjacent to it. The bed was the most comfortable she had ever lain in, and if it weren’t for the fact she had to be at the first stages of the conference within a half hour, she would’ve shot off to sleep right then and there.
On the ride down in the glass-paneled lift, Mara happened to glance out at the geodesic dome in which the hotel and the rest of the colony were encased. Through the quadruple-tempered glass, she saw the red Martian sky was fairly littered with Heavy Cruisers. This conference was obviously more important than she had initially believed, and seeing so many of the Hawking’s sister ships gathered together made her feel more assured and confident in the power of United Earth Force.
When she disembarked, she didn’t even realize she was standing up a bit straighter, and had a reinvigorated confidence in her stride.
She met Captain Stubbs and Commander Tamamura in front of the main doors to the Chesterfeld Reception Hall at 1730 hours as requested, and was relieved to see they hadn’t surprised her further by being in full dress uniform or anything else as fancy. As the three of them entered, Mara saw the large banquet-like hall was full of officers, all in standard black UEF uniforms.
Mara nodded to herself, feeling more comfortable in the surroundings as Stubbs led the two ladies to their table. They were seated with another captain and her own X.O., and engaged in genial and light getting-to-know-you chatter. At one point, as Stubbs entered into a friendly political debate with the other ship’s captain and first officer, Mara turned to Tamamura. “I’ve been wondering…why a hotel on Mars? Why aren’t we having this conference in secure quarters on Earth?”
“It’s a change of pace. If you think about it, there are at least two hundred officers here, and not many places on Earth that are equipped to handle a crowd like this in one setting that don’t have the same bland UEF design. The brass wanted a bit of a change, and according to the briefing James got, it’s secure enough. There are no pressnets of any type that are around, and they’re off-limits to gatherings such as this without direct invites from the Secretary of State anyway. Me, I welcome the change…I mean, aren’t those beds to die for?”
Mara smiled and nodded in agreement. Before she could engage Tamamura any further, the chairman of the tactics convention, General Dwight Aikland—a stocky gentleman in his mid-fifties—stood at the podium situated at the front of the room. Behind him was a very large vid-screen that had been used for displaying tactical charts of recent engagements and telecasting the faces of those officers that had addressed the crowd thus far. Now it displayed the standard of the United
Earth Force—a stylized eagle before a row of multicolored stripes.
General Aikland raised his hands for all to settle down, and they did so. “Thus far today, we have discussed recent victories and losses during our ongoing conflict with the Calvorian Alliance. Two things above all else have become clear as we have disseminated this information to you: First, that we are not losing this war…but we are not winning it, either. A type of status quo has been maintained, wherein it seems that for every two losses or victories we achieve, the reverse follows suit, and so forth with the enemy as well. The second is that the status quo needs to change. We must find ways to not only bring the fight further into enemy territory, but to give the Calvorians pause for leaving that territory. I wish to introduce someone to you now, who will inform you as to how United Earth Force intends to do just that. His name, I am certain, is familiar to each and every one of you. Ladies and gentlemen…Captain David Christenson.”
The room immediately burst into a round of applause. And as the vid-screen image of the UEF standard disappeared and David Christenson’s face replaced it, the cheers from the assembled officers became so loud it was nearly deafening.
David Christenson—the hero of the United Earth Force, whose victories against enemy forces rivaled and might very well soon surpass those of the legendary captains David Grossman and Nathaniel Kane—walked out from behind a curtain and approached the podium.
Mara felt her heart pounding against her chest at the sight of him: tall, slender yet still solidly built, with dark wavy hair just attaining light grey at the temples. Contrary to earlier pictures she had seen of him, he now possessed an unapologetic five o’clock shadow, which only served to make him seem more rugged, in spite of his immaculately clean UEF uniform. His smile was almost a type of smirk—but it didn’t seem to be one of condescension towards his audience…more a type of bewildered amusement at the response to his presence in the room.
Oh my God. That is the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.
He could totally do whatever he wanted to me, in front of everyone, and I wouldn’t care, Mara realized in amazement as she continued to clap enthusiastically. It took nearly a full minute for the applause to die down. When it did, Christenson looked out at the crowd appreciatively. “Thank you. I have to say, the last time anyone applauded for me that much, was when my mum and dad finally broke me into potty training at the tender age of twenty-three.”
A peal of laughter emanated from the audience. Mara shook her head in wonder as she laughed along with everyone; Christenson’s self-effacing humor was the perfect follow-up, and it put her at ease right away. She leaned forward in her seat, elbows on the table and chin resting on her palms as she waited for the next words to fall from his lips in his lilting English enunciation. She was unaware that she had sighed audibly, like a schoolgirl caught in a daydream, or of the amused looks she received for it from Stubbs and Tamamura.
She could have cared less anyway; David Christenson was all she could see.
“As General Aikland has said, we need to shake things up a bit. From the first time the Calvorian Alliance arrived at Earth until the advent of the Heavy Cruiser, the human race has been fighting a steady battle to keep our homeworld free, but so far, that’s all we’ve been doing. As a uni
t, Earth Force has been doing very well of late in holding its own…but we need to begin pressing forward, if we are ever to be rid of the Calvorians and end this damnable war.”
There was more applause on this point, and Christenson nodded in a type of solidarity of understanding. There was a dsp on the podium, which other officers had used to display select images to the crowd. Christenson picked it up now and prepared to work it. “Any military force is only as good, as capable, as not only those who run it, but the officers they choose to put in charge of leading troops into combat. With that in mind, I’d like to show you something…”
Christenson tabbed a panel on the dsp. The image on the oversized vid-screen changed from his own face to that of a Calvorian. There were several murmurs, minor gasps and someone even booed. Mara looked around at the gathering in curiosity; Calvorians had always all looked the same to her, but it seemed several people knew who this specific individual was.
She looked at the image again, and this time something did resound within her at the sight. This Calvorian, whose somewhat fuzzy picture was obviously taken from the display of a ship’s onboard vid-screen, seemed different in his posture, his bearing, the way he was seated in his chair. He sat as if his command chair was a throne, and he was somehow born into a position of power. The Hawking had dozens of encounters with Calvorian ships before, and some brief vid-com interchanges with their commanding officers…but none of them ever had the aura of self-importance, and indeed a type of regal bearing, as this one.
“This is the Calvorian general known only as Tholin,”
Christenson announced, being certain to say the name clearly.
“No one knows what the standard life span of a Calvorian may be, but for those of you who are unaware, the first time UEF heard of him was when he defeated a squadron of our ships at Proxima Centauri. His fleet destroyed all but one of our ships, allowing that one vessel to escape in order to carry his name to Command. That was back in 2148. Tholin is still in active service to this day.”
More anxious murmurs drifted across the room. Mara sat back in her chair, her mind boggled by the notion of one enemy fighting against her people for so long. 2148! That was—
“Yes,” Christenson said to all with a nod, “Over thirty years ago. Many of us were still in school or just learning to walk at that time. Some in this room weren’t even born. Yet Tholin— and others of his ilk—were out among the stars, fighting and slaying our brethren with an almost casual disdain.”
Christenson’s voice contained a dark rumble of anger within it now, and Mara was right there with him…her own indignation rising at the thought of so many humans murdered by one being.
“In the thirty-plus years Tholin has been out there, he has not only helped halt our press into Calvorian space…he has actually managed to stagger our own troops back and expand the boundaries of claimed Calvorian territory!” There were more boos from the audience on this point, and Mara swore she heard someone at a nearby table curse. Christenson placed both hands on either side of the podium as he leaned forward slightly, seeming to lock the entire audience in his steely gaze.
“Tholin is a tactical genius. His stratagems are constantly studied at UEF Tactical Command. His name has actually achieved a near-mythic level in some quarters, and some captains are worried about going into combat against him. But I stand here today to tell you the man is not infallible. He is not perfect…no one is. He is also not undefeatable. I can tell you this truthfully, because two years ago to this day, I met him in combat near our colony at Acrea 3. It was my ship the Horizon and a squadron of Heavy Cruisers against his dreadnought the Necrosis and an attack squad of their ships. We turned him back that day. We won.”
A round of applause burst forth from the assemblage once more. Before Mara knew it, she was on her feet, clapping and cheering—and leading the charge at what turned into a standing ovation for the flagship captain. Christenson turned to look behind him at General Aikland, as if for help in quelling the audience…but the general was applauding himself, a smile of unabashed adulation on his face.
With a slight, resigned shake of his head, Christenson turned forward to face his fans once more. He held his hands up, waving them off. Slowly, the audience calmed down. As they took their seats once more, Christenson said dryly, “People, please…we’re never going to get anywhere if you keep doing such a perfect imitation of my parents.”
There was more laughter, and Mara felt a slight tug at her sleeve. She turned as Nikki Tamamura leaned in close. “Jeez… a little taken with him, are you?”
Mara chuckled nervously, suddenly embarrassed that she’d been so obvious. “Well, I mean… he…he’s just such a great captain, that’s all.”
“Chopped liver, sitting right here,” Stubbs said with a light wave of his hand. Mara grimaced and mouthed an “I’m sorry”, but Stubbs just smiled and waved her off. Mara shrank down in her seat a little bit, but the sound of Christenson’s amazing voice immediately drew her attention once more:
“Earth Force Command has several detailed plans for expanding the theater of operations within several star-systems close to the Calvorians’ home port. The individual captains here will soon receive the intel in encoded communiqués, as each doctrine relates to your own Cruisers’ engagement orders, upon returning to your ships. Some of you may receive orders to fly wing with me.” There were some anticipatory mumblings at this last, which Christenson paused to let go, seeming to have anticipated it. After a moment, he continued, “The Horizon will soon be embarking on a press directly toward Calvorian space, with a twofold purpose. The first will be to push the enemy back toward their own territory as we reclaim lost space. The second will be to track, hunt down and eliminate General Tholin, so that he personally will no longer be an obstacle in our path.”
David Christenson was the final speaker for that day.
General Aikland wrapped things up once the captain left the podium, and afterward there was a small social gathering for the officers in a different wing of the hotel. There were many exotic dishes set out along several tables, and Mara sampled quite a few. As she was tossing her plate into a recycle dump-chute set in a wall, Commander Tamamura moved easily through the crowd to stand only a couple feet away. “Mara, come on—quick!” There was a definite tone of urgency in her fellow officer’s voice, and Mara followed close behind as Tamamura headed back the way she had come, weaving in and out between clumps of socializing officers. Finally, she led Mara to an area off to the side of an exit door and around a turn in a corner, which led to a rear corridor. Tamamura stopped abruptly, and Mara just came short of running into her. The Hawking’s first officer turned back to her, winked, then nodded toward the path ahead. Mara stepped forward to see what she was pointing at, and gasped in amazement…
There was Captain Stubbs, laughing and chatting it up ever so casually with David Christenson.
Stubbs was the first to notice the two women. He tapped David on the arm and pointed at them. “There they are…two of the three favorite ladies in my life,” Stubbs said, and Mara was torn between feeling absolutely touched by her captain’s earnest sentiment, and focusing on not fainting in Christenson’s presence.
Tamamura approached Christenson, who held out his hands. She accepted and they clasped hands as he leaned in and they kissed each other on the cheek. “Nikki. It’s so good to see you again,” Christenson said pleasantly. “James just told me the good news. Congratulations.”
“Thank you, David. It’s wonderful to see you, too.”
Mara was pondering what ‘good news’ they could possibly be talking about, when James stepped toward her with Christenson. “And this is our security chief, Mara Elliot.”
Christenson immediately stuck out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mara.”
Mara just stared at him. I cannot believe I am standing here with David Christenson! The thought screamed in her head with all the giddiness of a teenage schoolgirl who’s just realized she’s be
en selected as homecoming queen. It then came to her that he had done something, but what—? She looked down, seeing his hand for the first time. She glanced at her shipmates, who were looking at her expectantly—Nikki Tamamura, in fact, was standing off to Christenson’s side and gesturing with her hands in a ‘go on!’ manner.
