by Daniel Gibbs
“Give Spencer a bit more credit than that.”
“It’s not him I worry about. What if the next president doesn’t share Spencer’s sense of honor? All we have to do to erode our freedoms is open the door.”
“What’s the best way you and I can prevent that from happening, Colonel?”
“Ensure this mission is a success, capture the League operatives and their cartel lackeys, and put Orbita into the ground for good.”
MacIntosh snickered. “More bad puns.”
“The only type of pun is a bad pun, sir,” David said with a grin. “What do you know about Director Qadir?”
“Talked to her a few times about this. Determined, tough, intelligent. Don’t get on her bad side.”
“Got it, sir.”
“You have a few press appearances tomorrow as cover.”
David closed his eyes and suppressed the desire to groan. “Holo opportunities?”
“Visiting an elementary school’s career day.”
“Could be worse,” David replied dryly. “Sooner I get that done, the sooner I can get on mission. I won’t let you down, sir.”
MacIntosh put his hand on David’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “I know you won’t. Never have. Good luck out there, son.”
“Thank you, sir.”
After taking his leave of MacIntosh, David made his way out of the conference room to find Calvin, Taylor, Aibek, and Doctor Tural waiting for him.
“Now the Leaguers are pushing pills?” Calvin said, not even bothering with hello. “Another reason to put ‘em down with extreme prejudice.”
David shrugged. “We’ve got plenty of reasons to defeat the League. They’ve moved on to asymmetric warfare.”
“I’ve requested the medical files on this ‘Orbita’ substance,” Tural interjected. “I will make my own study of it. Perhaps Allah will guide my hands to add something toward a cure.”
“Good idea, Doctor,” David said. “I’ve got a photo-op to handle before I return to the Lion. I’ll get everyone’s PR assignments for tomorrow out of the way, then we can go do our real jobs.”
7
The primary school had prepared for David’s arrival like he was visiting royalty. The display made him feel uneasy, which translated into nervousness as he walked through the front doors, escorted by the principal and all manner of reporters. I could do without the media campaign. My job is to drive ships and fight the League. Teaching 5th graders, not so much.
“Thank you so much for coming down today, Colonel,” the principal, a short, balding man that appeared to be middle-aged, said. “It’s a real treat for our children to meet an honest-to-God, bona fide hero.”
David couldn’t keep the grimace off his face. “I prefer to not think of myself as a hero, Mr. McCaughey.”
“Of course, Colonel Cohen,” he said, appearing chastised.
“What’s on the agenda today?”
McCaughey gestured down the main hallway of the school. “Mrs. Rice’s class is expecting you first as we kick off our career week. We have you in four other classrooms before noon. Then, if you’re willing, there will be a lunch reception to honor the Lion of Judah.”
“What grade is her class?” David asked.
“Fifth.”
David flashed a smile. “Lead the way.” RUMINT was right on the money, as usual.
Floating holocameras captured the scene as David strode down the hall in his khaki uniform, every last ribbon, insignia, and badge worn, along with an array of medals. I still hate dressing up, even after all these years. The principal opened a door marked “5th Grade Homeroom – Mrs. Rice” and held it for him.
“Good morning, Colonel Cohen!” a woman inside the classroom announced, a soft smile evident on her lips.
“Mrs. Rice, I presume?”
“Guilty as charged, sir. Elaine Rice, fifth-grade teacher for twenty-three years now.”
David smiled. “Wow, that’s a long time to teach. More years than I’ve been in the service. Thank you for having me.”
“We all have our callings in life,” she said, smiling. “This is my class.” She gestured toward fifteen youngsters, seated at small desks with integrated holoprojectors. Each student had a tablet lying out, and they all stared at him. Their eyes were as big as saucers, while some of them excitedly whispered and pointed. They came in all shapes and sizes; a young boy wore a yarmulke—a Jewish religious head covering—while one of the girls had an Islamic style headscarf draped over her hair.
I’ve seen that look before. The one someone gives me when they think I’m larger than life. “Good morning, class.”
“Good morning, Colonel Cohen!” the students belted out.
“We’re just getting started for the day,” Rice explained. “Would you care to lead us in the morning prayer?”
“I’d be honored to,” David said.
“Class, did you know that Colonel Cohen once studied to be a rabbi?”
David glanced at her and grinned. “Still do, ma’am. One day, after the war is over.”
“My mother says the war will never end,” a girl with pigtails in the front row said.
“Oh? Why does she say that?”
“Because the big corporations and the military want to profit off our suffering.”
It was a challenge for David to check the dirty look that wanted to invade his face. She’s not even eleven. Clearly just parroting her parents, but still. Why would someone think that? “I would respectfully disagree, young lady. The League is worse than any evil I’ve ever seen. Without the Coalition Defense Force to protect us, they’d overrun our planets. I don’t think you or anyone else would like to see that.”
A boy to her side turned and faced her. “Yeah, well my dad says you’re an idiot for believing that.”
Rice rapped her ruler on the teacher's table. “Class! Is this how we show respect to our elders?”
“No, Mrs. Rice!” the students said unevenly with sidelong looks between them.
“Seems like we do need this prayer,” David said dryly. “Shall we, children?”
The group of kids nodded, all smiles. Seeing them brought back memories from his own childhood of attending school and hanging out with his friends. David, though, had gone to a private Hebrew academy specifically for Orthodox Jews, and not the public education system run by the Terran Coalition and its member worlds.
David bowed his head, closed his eyes, and began to pray, choosing English over Hebrew so all the children could understand him. “Lord, we thank You today for the day that You have made. Remember us today, bless us and bless our attempts to gain understanding of the universe that You created. Bless these children as they learn and grow. Help us to remember the Lord is the Maker of heaven and earth. He is our Guardian, and in the Lord we will trust. Protect our soldiers and Marines in harm’s way, and if it is Your will, guide them safely home. Amen.”
Rice beamed and stood at the front of the class. “Children, please stand for the pledge of allegiance. Colonel, would you mind?”
“Not at all.” David turned toward the flag of the Terran Coalition; it rested on a standing flag pole in the back of the room. He braced to attention and brought his hand up to his brow in salute. “I pledge allegiance to the flag of the Terran Coalition and to the republic for which it stands. Many nations, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.” His hand snapped down to the side of his body, an action he had executed tens of thousands of times throughout his career. He smiled as chills spread across the back of his neck, and his soul stirred. There’s something about those words. The ideals that they represent will always be worth fighting for.
The class had recited the pledge along with him. Turning back to the class, he saw a sea of smiling faces.
“Thank you so much, Colonel Cohen,” Rice said.
“Pleasure’s all mine, ma’am. Thank you for having me.”
One of the children in the back raised her hand.
David pointed and smil
ed. “Yes?”
“Do the Leaguers run as soon as they see the Lion of Judah coming?”
“They do once we start shooting at them, little lady,” David said, his tone indicating his amusement. He began to turn to go, then decided against it, pivoting back toward the class. “Children, there’s something important I believe you should know. Perhaps your parents have said something like this to you. My own father instilled it in me. There are things worth fighting for. Our beliefs, freedoms, way of life, our families, and planets. They’re important. All of us a little bit different. Some are Jews like me, some Christian, some Muslim, Sikh, and all manner of other religions, including none at all. We believe different things, but we unite around one flag and a common set of ideals. As you grow up and decide what you want to be when you grow up, consider a life of service to the Terran Coalition through the Coalition Defense Force. A more noble brother and sisterhood you won’t find, and you’ll never have the problem of wondering if your life makes a difference in this galaxy.”
That was probably close to what someone of differing political opinion would consider propaganda. Screw them. I’m proud of my service, and the men and women I serve with. They asked me here for career day, and that’s what I’ll talk about.
“Thank you, Colonel,” Rice said, smiling.
One fan, at least. “I think I’m on to the next classroom, ma’am. Study hard today, children!”
SSI Space Drydock Alpha Six
In Orbit of Churchill
November 2nd, 2462
The last six months have been quite kind to me, Kenneth Lowe considered as he flipped through a project schedule. The contract to provide installation support to the Lion of Judah had completed its run, and the CDF had elected to shift to only military personnel providing engineering expertise. Fun while it lasted, but that’s not my world. Cost, schedule, and performance are. About time for me to settle down and stop playing soldier.
The door to his office swung open, and in came Harold Billings, one of his team leads he’d nicknamed “Master Chief” many years before.
“Hey, boss,” Billings said. “Not bothering you, am I?”
“Not at all, Harold. Have a seat.”
“I completed my rounds. We’re still behind schedule.”
Kenneth groaned and laid his head back on the chair he was seated in. “Not what I wanted to hear, Master Chief.”
“It’s the reactor guys. They’re slow as molasses.”
“Probably getting time and materials by the hour. No reason to, you know, get the work done before the war ends.”
Kenneth’s latest project was retrofitting two hundred and fifty mothballed frigates, destroyers, and cruisers that dated back to the first battle of Canaan, and in some cases to the Saurian-Terran Coalition war. We’ve been winning, but the League’s extracting its pound of flesh. Still, I’d rather have winners’ problems.
“I don’t know, sir,” Billings said as he snickered. “But they’re taking enough time to build entirely new ships.”
“If it weren’t so difficult to build things in zero-G, we’d probably be focused solely on new shipbuilding. It is, though. Hence we get the fun task of making cutting-edge technology work on a platform built forty years ago.”
“Forty years if we’re lucky. There’re a few Galahad class destroyers in the mix… those date back sixty-plus years.”
“Yeah, and for every generation of technologies boasts about making things forward and backward compatible—”
“It never is, because nerds over-engineer everything,” Billings cut in and finished.
“Hey, don’t crack on nerds. I know for a fact you show up to the game nights our drafting team sponsors.”
Billings grinned broadly. “Might even bring some miniatures. But I’ll never tell, boss.”
“Have you seen Joshua this morning?”
“Nah, not yet anyway.”
“I need to track him down to review a monthly report. Why did I get out of doing real work to push paper?”
“Supposedly, we get promoted to our highest level of incompetence, sir.”
Kenneth rolled his eyes. “I miss our time on the Lion of Judah.”
“Me too, boss. Real special, getting to be out there with the fleet. Do you think we could get reassigned?”
“I thought your wife was adamantly opposed to fieldwork.”
“Not an issue anymore. She filed for divorce a couple of weeks ago.”
Kenneth’s jaw nearly hit the top of his desk. “You didn’t say anything.”
“Been trying to deal with it in my own way.”
“I’m sorry, Harold.”
“Long time in coming. I’ve just got to keep going for the sake of my kids.”
“Your sons still doing well in college?”
“That they are. Both are saying they’ll go to OCS and outrank their old man.”
“No officer outranks the Master Chief,” Kenneth replied with a chuckle.
“A sentiment I can get behind,” Billings said, pulling his small tablet device free and setting it down on the desk. “Got some time to review cost and schedule on refit line item six?”
“Absolutely. Show me what you’ve got.” A ghant chart flashed onto the screen, and Kenneth began to read it. Another day, another report. Maybe I should try going on a date. That’d require me to ask a woman out. A hobby maybe? Something besides work. I’ll get on it after my shift. Yeah, right.
8
The Lion of Judah glided out of its artificial wormhole above the planet Gilead, a good thousand lightyears away from Canaan. As the dazzling display of colors dissipated behind it, the mighty warship pressed on. On the bridge, David occupied the CO’s chair, strapped into the combat harness, just in case.
“Conn, TAO,” Ruth began. “LIDAR sensor array online, no hostile contacts.”
David felt a twinge a fear during the few seconds between emergence from the wormhole, getting a reading on what was around them in space. Some things never change. “Navigation, put us into high orbit over the planet.”
“Aye aye, sir,” Hammond said.
“Communications, alert Gilead control of our arrival.”
“Aye aye, sir,” Taylor replied. “I just received a text-only transmission for your eyes only, sir.”
“Send it to my tablet, Lieutenant.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
David glanced around the bridge; only a couple of them knew what was really going on. The cover story for the ship at large was they were performing a port call, which had led to grumbling from the enlisted personnel who wanted to be out taking the fight to the League. Can’t blame them for the sentiment. “I’ll be in my day cabin. Senior staff briefing in two hours. XO, you have the conn.”
“This is Colonel Aibek, I have the conn.”
Arthur Hanson trudged out of his quarters, having gone and changed into a more presentable uniform. Eight hours on duty in the engineering spaces typically left him in need of a bath and new clothes—today was no exception. Even a two-minute space shower feels good after crawling around inside tubes, getting hot and sweaty. Making his way to the gravlift, and on up to deck one, he walked into the conference room with a few minutes to spare, finding David, Aibek, Tural, Ruth, Hammond, Calvin, and Amir already present. Another man he hadn’t seen in a while, Captain Rajneesh Singh—the commander of the Lion’s embarked special operations unit—was also in the room.
“Afternoon, everyone,” Hanson said.
“Have a seat, Major,” David replied. “We’re only waiting for a couple more.”
As the officers made idle chitchat, a striking woman walked through the hatch, wearing civilian attire and a bright purple hijab. He didn’t recognize her and automatically assumed she was with the Coalition Intelligence Service.
“Director Qadir, greetings,” David said as he gestured to one of the empty chairs. “Please, take a seat. We’re just waiting for the Master Chief.”
They didn’t wait long. Tinetariro strod
e in a few seconds later. She was never late to anything. “Master Chief Tinetariro reports as ordered, sir.”
“At ease, Master Chief. Have a seat.”
Right behind her was Doctor Benjamin Hayworth, the civilian consultant who’d designed the Lion’s anti-matter reactor system. “Greetings.”
Hanson could feel David’s confusion, followed by annoyance. Colonel’s never been good at the poker face.
“I don’t recall inviting you to this briefing, Doctor.”
“As the smartest scientific mind on this ship, I thought you could benefit from my intellect in dealing with your drug problem.”
David barely avoided rolling his eyes. “I’m not going to ask how you found out. Sit.”
Hayworth flashed a dazzling smile. “Of course, Colonel,” he said in a tone that was close to mocking.
“Now we’re all here… allow me to introduce Deputy Assistant Director, Rajiya Qadir. She’s with the counterintelligence division of the CBI.”
Qadir scanned the room, her lips unmoving.
She’s not CIS, then. “Do we have another mole?” Hanson blurted out.
“No, Major. At least, not that we’re aware of. Director Qadir is here to investigate League of Sol drug smuggling activities.”
“Drug smuggling? By Leaguers?” Ruth asked incredulously.
“The infidels are attempting to destabilize the Terran Coalition from within,” Qadir interjected. “Thank you for the introduction, Colonel.”
“The Lion of Judah will be covertly investigating the situation under cover of a port visit. The crew will be granted limited liberty, as would be customary.”
Tinetariro’s face blanched and contorted. “Sir, I would strongly recommend we keep a very tight leash on the enlisted personnel. Gilead has a… reputation.”
David couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear. “I’ve well aware of its reputation, Master Chief. Pass the word to the crew, anyone caught by Gilead shore patrol and returned to the Lion will face two days of confinement in the brig. Serious cases will be confined for three days, on a bread and water diet.”
