by Ryk Brown
* * *
“You asked to see me?” General Telles said, as he entered Captain Gullen’s office aboard the Glendanon.
“Yes, General, thank you for coming,” Captain Gullen said, rising to greet him. “I apologize for the inconvenience. I know you and your men must be busy preparing for tomorrow’s mission.”
“Not at all, Captain. The Ghatazhak are always prepared. Most of my men are already asleep for the night.”
“You can sleep the night before a mission?” the captain wondered. “I was never able to do so when I was in the service. I was always running through every possible scenario, reviewing what I would do for each possible thing that could go wrong.”
“The Ghatazhak constantly train,” the general explained. “To the point that much of our reaction is automatic. Decisions that normal men might struggle with for hours, Ghatazhak are trained to make in a tenth of a second. Therefore, there is nothing for us to lose sleep over the night before.”
Captain Gullen looked at the general. “I find that hard to believe, General. With all the terrible things that you and your men are called upon to do… Does not guilt ever rob you of sleep?”
“It does not.”
“So, you felt nothing when you gunned down those innocent people on Earth eight years ago? Or on Burgess a week ago?”
“You are not the first to misunderstand the Ghatazhak, Captain,” General Telles explained. “We are men, same as you. We feel, the same as you. We do not like the things that we must do. However, we are able to accept that we must do such things, in order to accomplish our mission.”
“But what if your mission is not just?” the captain wondered. “Surely, there were missions performed under the reign of Caius that you would now find distasteful?”
General Telles sighed. “Again, it is difficult for most men to understand. When I served Caius, I was programmed to be loyal to him. I was programmed to make his goals my own. As long as I was performing to the best of my ability, pride in my efforts and my dedication enabled me to see past any guilt over the distasteful things that I had done. Because I knew that I had not chosen to do those things. I had been ordered to do them. My pride was in my ability to do such things. What I feel must be controlled. Anger must be converted into strength. Sorrow must be converted into determination. Guilt must be converted into pride. To do otherwise would only weaken the individual, and therefore, the collective unit. That cannot be allowed.”
“What about now?” the captain wondered. “Your programming is not permanent. Whom do you serve now?”
“Now, the Ghatazhak choose,” General Telles said with conviction, “and we choose to fight anyone who would threaten our survival.”
“Regardless of right or wrong,” Captain Gullen said.
“Right and wrong is subjective. Whatever threatens the peaceful existence of the Ghatazhak is considered wrong by the Ghatazhak. The Dusahn attacked us without provocation. Therefore, they are a threat to our survival. It is as simple as that. Whatever I must do to defeat them, I can live with.”
Captain Gullen sighed, looking down at his desk.
“You are troubled by this?” General Telles asked, noticing the captain’s distraught expression.
“I envy you, General,” Captain Gullen admitted. “I would give anything for my conscience to be as clear as yours.”
“What is it that troubles you?” General Telles inquired.
“The mission you are about to embark upon. I fear that many of your men may die trying to save my daughter, when all of your resources should be devoted to getting Captain Tuplo into that lab, and getting Captain Scott out. What right do I have to ask for special consideration for my child? Especially when it is I who put her in jeopardy to begin with.”
“If it makes you feel any better, Captain, we are not attempting the rescue of your daughter alone. We are attempting to rescue all who have been imprisoned because brave men such as yourself refused to bow down to the Dusahn. Those are the people the Ghatazhak choose to serve. The ones who are willing to stand and fight for their own survival, even in the face of impossible odds.” General Telles rose from his seat to depart. “And for the record, Captain, the Ghatazhak would be attempting to rescue your daughter even if we were not already going there to rescue Captain Scott. It just so happens that both objectives stand a better chance of success if simultaneously executed.”
Captain Gullen looked at the general. For the first time, he saw the humanity in the General’s stern features, and the honesty in his steely eyes. “Thank you, General… For everything.”
“You are most welcome, Captain,” General Telles replied with a respectful nod. “Now, I suggest you try to get some rest.”
* * *
Cameron sat on her couch, watching the message from Nathan for the tenth time since she had sat down an hour ago.
“Captain, Commander Kamenetskiy is here to see you,” the guard outside her door called over the intercom on her side table.
“Let him in,” Cameron replied. She sat, still watching the message, not bothering to get up to greet her friend. “I was wondering when you were going to get here,” she said as he closed the door behind him.
“Why the guards?” Vladimir wondered as he walked over to the couch.
“Kaplan’s idea,” Cameron answered. “Just in case Galiardi’s got an agent on board.”
“Even Galiardi is not that paranoid,” Vladimir insisted as he sat down next to her. “Do you have anything to eat?”
Cameron pointed to the vegetable plate and dip on the table in front of them.
“I meant real food,” Vladimir said.
Cameron pointed at the same food again.
“How many times have you watched this?” Vladimir wondered, as he reached for the tray.
“A dozen, maybe. I lost count.”
“Learn anything you didn’t already know?” Vlad wondered, as he picked up a stick of celery and scooped up some dip.
“That Nathan doesn’t look good with a beard.”
“Nobody looks good with a beard,” Vladimir replied. “They only think they do.”
“He’s got an accent now,” Cameron said. “Takaran, like Dumar and Tug. You think he’s been speaking Angla, or Takaran?”
“Not Takaran, that is certain,” Vladimir said as he chewed his food thoughtfully. “You know, this dip is not that bad.”
“It’s hummus.”
“Okay. This hummus isn’t that bad,” Vladimir corrected. “What else have you learned?”
“That I am relieved it will be Nathan who will be in command for this, and not me.”
Vladimir almost choked. “Really?” he asked, once his throat was clear. “You? I thought being in command was always your dream?”
“It was,” Cameron admitted. “But of a ship and a crew. Not of an entire rebellion. Not when countless lives are at stake.” She pressed pause on the remote, then turned to look at Vladimir for the first time since he had entered her quarters. “Honestly, I never understood how he was able to do it. For nearly a year, it was all on him. And not once did I ever see him hesitate when making a decision.”
“I’ve never seen you hesitate when making a decision either,” Vladimir said, scooping up more hummus, this time with a carrot stick.
“Maybe, but that doesn’t mean I don’t second guess myself afterward.”
“What makes you think Nathan didn’t?”
“If he did, he didn’t show it,” Cameron said.
“He couldn’t afford to,” Vladimir comforted her. “Especially not with you always questioning his decisions.”
“I didn’t always question his decisions,” Cameron objected.
“Of course, you did,” Vladimir insisted. “At least in the beginning…and pretty much in the mid
dle, as well.”
“I was only making sure that he had considered all the angles.”
“Which is probably what bothered him,” Vladimir explained. “Nathan always made his decisions on instinct, not analysis.”
“Which is a dangerous way to make decisions,” Cameron argued.
“Not if you have good instincts,” Vladimir replied. “And Nathan has excellent instincts.”
“But what happens if his instincts are wrong?” Cameron challenged.
“Then he bears the responsibility,” Vladimir explained. “That’s what being in command is about. It’s not about making the right decisions, it’s about making the decision, and being able to live with the guilt when you’re wrong.”
Cameron sat for a moment, thinking. “Did Nathan have doubts?”
“Constantly,” Vladimir replied. “He never felt deserving, or even remotely qualified, to be in command. He just didn’t show it.”
“So, he confided in you about his doubts?”
“Constantly,” Vladimir complained. “To be honest, it became rather annoying after awhile.” Vladimir picked a celery string from his teeth. “But at least he ate meat.”
Cameron did not respond. Instead, she just pressed play again, and rested her head on her friend’s shoulder.
* * *
Josh moved slowly down the dimly lit corridor that ran along the Seiiki’s port side, from her aft section where the crew’s cabins were located, along the main passenger section, to the galley forward. His hair was a mess, and he was dressed in an old t-shirt, baggy shorts, and thick socks.
He made his way past the passenger bay, which had now been stripped of its seats, and into the galley just forward of the now empty compartment. Without turning on any lights, he opened the refrigerator door and started digging around inside, looking for something to eat.
“Early morning snack?” Connor asked from somewhere behind him.
Josh jerked back, startled, a half-eaten porshak roll in his hand. “Jesus, Cap’n,” he exclaimed. “You scared the shit out of me!” Josh closed the refrigerator door and turned to look at Connor, sitting in the dining nook in the corner of the galley. “How long have you been sitting there?”
“A few hours, at least.”
“Have you considered turning on a light?”
“I think better in the dark.”
Josh moved over and sat down across the table from Connor. “Want a bite?” he asked, holding out his sandwich.
“No thanks,” Connor replied. “I’m not hungry.”
“Couldn’t sleep again?”
“Didn’t even try,” Connor admitted.
“Why not?” Josh wondered. “After all, we’ve got a big day tomorrow… Uh, today, I mean,” Josh corrected, glancing at the clock on the wall.
“I figured I’d stay up and enjoy my last night as Connor Tuplo.”
Josh stopped chewing for a moment, the captain’s comment sinking in. He started chewing again, then said, “I hadn’t really thought of it like that, to be honest.” Josh finished chewing and swallowed. “But, you’re still going to remember everything that happened over the last five years, right?”
“That’s what they tell me,” Connor replied. “But it’s not going to be me, not really. It won’t even be my body. Hell, I’ll be five years younger.”
“And you’re complaining?”
Connor looked at Josh, a smirk on his face.
“Sorry,” Josh said, taking another bite of his roll.
“In my head, I’ll still be me,” Connor said. “But I won’t be alone. I’ll be Nathan as well.”
“What, like some kind of split personality?”
“Maybe. I don’t really know.”
“What did the clone docs say?” Josh wondered.
“They don’t really know either. This is all new territory for them. Hell, they’re not even sure that I’ll get all of my memories back.”
Josh grinned as he chewed his food. “Well, at least you’re admitting that you’re Nathan.”
“Genetically, I am. I can’t deny that. But I’m still Connor Tuplo up here,” Connor said, pointing to his head. “I guess I’m having a hard time coming to grips with the idea of having both identities swimming around in my head.”
“Maybe it will be like when you’re an undercover spy. You know, pretending to be someone you’re not. Answering to another name, even though you know it’s not really your name.”
“I think you watch too many vid-plays, Josh.”
“Probably.”
Connor sighed. “You know, for the last five years, I’ve been struggling to remember things about myself. Anything at all. Then, when I found out who I really was, the thought of remembering all of that scared the hell out of me.”
“Then why did you decide to go through with the transfer?” Josh asked.
“I guess the part of me that wanted to remember was stronger than the part that didn’t,” Connor replied.
Josh snickered. “Sure.”
“What?” Connor asked, noticing Josh’s expression.
“You decided to go through with it, because it’s the right thing to do,” Josh explained. “You see, memories or not, you’re still Nathan Scott. It’s in your genes.”
“That simple, huh?”
“That simple,” Josh insisted, taking another bite of his roll.
“What’s that simple?” Loki asked as he and Jessica entered the dimly lit galley.
“Long story,” Connor told him. “What are you two doing here? We don’t depart for two more hours.”
“The Glendanon’s chief engineer wanted time to fully depress the bay before launch,” Loki explained. “Seems he doesn’t want to waste a single molecule of oxygen.”
“With all the people aboard, can you blame him?” Connor replied.
“Shouldn’t both of you still be asleep?” Jessica wondered.
“Well, wonder-boy here only needs four hours a night, or so he says,” Connor replied. “As for myself, well, I’m trading this body in for a newer model in a few hours, so…”
“Hey,” Loki said, looking at the porshak roll in Josh’s hand, “isn’t that my roll?”
CHAPTER TEN
The roof of the Glendanon’s massive cargo bay began to roll back slowly, from fore to aft, gradually exposing the ships in her forward section. The combat jump shuttles were first to depart, sliding gracefully through the gap that slowly widened between the first roof section and the forward edge of the cargo bay. Immediately after, sixteen Takaran jump fighters, followed by a single Super Falcon, exited single file and turned to starboard as they cleared the retracting roof sections.
Eventually, the first roof section finished sliding under the second, and the second roof section tracked along with the first, both of them continuing their journey aft, sliding in unison underneath the third section. After a few minutes, the sequence stopped, leaving the forward quarter of the Glendanon’s cargo deck exposed.
The Seiiki was next to depart, rising slowly off the Glendanon’s deck. Immediately to the Seiiki’s left, the Ghatazhak’s last remaining cargo shuttle also began to rise. The Seiiki pitched up slightly as she climbed, turning a few degrees starboard and accelerating, while the cargo jump shuttle turned to port.
Finally, two boxcars lifted off the Glendanon’s deck and climbed away, both continuing ahead of the Glendanon before turning onto their departure course.
Minutes later, several kilometers to the Glendanon’s starboard side, the ships once stored within the Glendanon’s hold converged on the Morsiko-Tavi. Her flat, open deck now empty of all cargo, the sixteen fighters landed on the Morsiko-Tavi’s long, flat deck, to hitch a ride to the engagement area.
Once the fighters were secure on the deck
of the Morsiko-Tavi, all eight ships disappeared behind near-synchronous flashes of blue-white light, bound for the Karuzari’s first official offensive against the Dusahn Empire.
* * *
“We’ll be at full charge in seventy-three minutes, Captain,” Commander Kaplan reported over the intercom in Cameron’s ready room. “Commander Verbeek reports all Eagles and Reapers are fully fueled, armed, and ready for deployment.”
“Are the Reapers carrying maximum missile loads?” Cameron asked.
“Yes, sir, as instructed,” the commander replied. “I reminded the CAG to reconfigure the first four Reapers that return for atmo ops, as well.”
“I’m sure the commander didn’t care for the reminder,” Cameron joked.
“No, sir, he did not,” the XO replied, clearly enjoying herself.
“Very well,” Cameron replied. “We’ll go from alert to general quarters ten minutes prior to full recharge.”
“Aye, sir.”
Cameron turned off her intercom and leaned back in her chair. Other than the few encounters with Jung ships over the last couple weeks, she and the Aurora had not seen any real combat since the attack on Nor-Patri seven years ago. That was when she lost the Celestia. Had it not been for Nathan’s best friend, Luis, she likely would’ve gone down with the ship.
She looked around the captain’s ready room. She had made very little changes to the decor. A few pictures on the counter behind her, an updated diagram of the Aurora after her previous refit five years earlier, and a few pieces of art that soothed her. She wondered how she would feel once she handed this office over to Nathan. Although she enjoyed being in command, she had always missed the day-to-day challenges of running a ship and her crew that she so enjoyed as an executive officer. Captains spent more time thinking about the bigger picture, and deciding where the ship needed to go and what it needed to do. XO’s thought about how to make that happen, in the most efficient way possible.
She would be fine. They just needed to survive the next couple of hours first.
