by J. S. Hawn
“The question becomes then,” Whitaker said aloud, “Is will they strike or will they wait for us to attack and keep the moral high ground?”
“I don't think it's fair to say they have the moral high ground,” said Atherton Gao. “Especially after Ozawa.”
“Then you're badly misreading the situation Minister,” said Loretta Cain.
“Oh pray tell, how is that General?” Gao asked with his usual dose of smugness. “The incursion against Ozawa has galvanized our people against the Colonials. What's more, I don't believe any sovereign state would look sympathetically on a nation that arbitrarily launches cross border incursions.”
“That may be true Minister,” Cain said in her usual flat tones. Despite his constant provocation, Gao rarely got a rise out of her. Whitaker personally believed that it was because next to Cain, Atherton Gao was a mental midget and she knew it.
“While it's true our population has united against the Colonials, the Ozawa incursion was a limited strike against a military target. Anti-Solarian politicos and agitators from Atlantis to Heliopolis can cast it as the Colonials standing up to the Solarian bully.”
“Not that it matters though,” Gao said dismissively. “Blustering like that won't translate into policy.”
“Oh hasn't it though?” Cain replied. “The seeds of this conflict were planted during the Dominion Wars. Now, the Colonials are selling a narrative that agitators in Freeport are using to push for a dissolution of the Free Worlds League, which if it happens will be an unmitigated disaster. The Union of Sovereign Systems and the Kingdom of Vinland both have politicians in their Congress and Parliament that are pushing for sanctions.”
“To be fair General,” Tao interjected. “There are also members of both those nations legislature pushing to sanction the Colonials, and the League voted to honor their treaty obligations. What's more, the Dominion Dikat has outright condemned the Colonial provocation.”
“The League vote was narrow minister, too narrow and the Diktat is making supportive noises because he wants us to give him a free hand in the Dominion’s move to set up new colonies in the rim,” Cain replied.
“Enough,” Banjour said “The League is tomorrow's problem and the Dominion is yesterdays. The current threat is from the Colonials and the question is are we ready?”
Marcus Ho nodded, “Sir the 3rd and 5th Fleets are up to full strength with the 7th ready in the next three weeks. The 2nd is still mobilizing with units scattered all to hell in gone. Admiral Hopper CO of the 5th has arrived on station in Saugus and stands ready to lead the offensive.”
Ho’s statement didn't really do justice to the massive effort that had gone into ushering scores of ships and hundreds of thousands of personnel into position. The Army and Marines along with the CRS and Interiors had likewise operated with their usual efficiency and competence, but Whitaker couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something. That they were all missing something. Truthfully, a thought which nagged Whitaker constantly was that Solaria had grown too comfortable with victory, and that had made them complacent. It was a worrying thought.
Solaria System, In Transit to the Yimir Wormway, Solarian Republic
Onboard RSS Ironman Wu
October 24th 843 AE
Jonathan grinned ear to ear as he strode into the conference room and clasped hands with William Trendle. “Well the old bastard got you too,” Jonathan said.
William blushed a bit as he nodded in reply, “I got back from my honeymoon and found my orders had changed. Senator Halman was kind enough to keep his displeasure private, though this is just his way of reminding me he can screw with me anytime he wishes.”
“More fool him then,” Jonathan said. “Will, let me introduce my new XO George Pai. George, this is your predecessor though he hasn't taken your title for meanest right hook.”
George grinned as he shook William’s hand,
“Did he trick you into sparring with him?” George asked.
William shook his head. “No it was a more of a informal ass kicking to remind me of my duty.”
George smiled, “Well, I am glad it worked. John did nothing but sing your praises the whole shuttle ride over.”
“Glad to hear, how often does he trick you into sparring with him?” William asked.
George’s grin widened. “Not often. Who do you think taught him to box?”
“And I taught you to play chess, I think we both came out ahead,” Jonathan said.
They chatted for a few more minutes aimlessly. Will introduced his XO Commander Zander Chu, and the CO’s of Oeillet and Charon, Lt. Captain Craig Vanderhove of the Oeillet, a tall Provo with light hair and skin and brown eyes, and Lt. Captain Wu Qin of the Charon, a sharp eyed Steader with heavily oriental features, but flaxen colored hair and light brown almost caramel color skin. Not long after everyone had made their introductions, the host of this conference arrived. Captain Marvin Mao of the Solarian Merchant Marine and master of Ironman Wu.
Marvin was a big, boisterous fellow with heavy five o’clock shadow, who wore fairly typical civilian spacer attire, a nanofiber flame retardant utility suit and an old style peaked mariner’s cap.
“Right then,” Mao said. “Being Navy boys and lassies ya’ll will have made you’se introductions, so let’s get this bastard ball a rollin.”
Taking his seat, Jonathan idly noted Mao’s heavy use of slang and profanity in his speech. It was the mark of a true space dog. A man who had spent more time in orbit with other spacers than on the ground. Jonathan had know several such men who had helped to crew his father’s freighter Wanderer in his youth.
“Now,” Mao continued after everyone found a seat, though he remained standing putting his thumbs in his belt loops and rocking back and forth ever so slightly on his heels. “The Navy Brass Asses have in their infinite wisdom made me the master of this here convoy. I don't have no delusions about what that means. I is in-charge of moving this bastard ball o’wax straight through to Kratos and depositing it at the Kratos Navy station. That I can handle. I can also handle Army pukes whining about lack of space and hot showers, and wog crewmen trying to cut every corner and find every loophole. What I can't handle is the security aspect of this convoy. So that being said, Captain Pavel sir you’ll be in charge of all matters pertaining to security of the convoy, while I handle navigation and keep the other merchies sailing in the right direction. Is that agreeable to ya sirs?”
Jonathan nodded. “Very much so Captain. We’ll be making a run through friendly space all the way there and its seven transits I believe.”
“That would be correct sir,” Mao said.
“So, that's” Jonathan did the math in his head, “About 23 to 28 days if we run at speed.”
“Aye, which we shall do,” Mao said.
“Now, I don’t anticipate any problems. However, we won't reach Kratos until after the Premier’s ultimatum has expired, and we should remain vigilant for Wolf Packs, Privateers, not to mention run of the mill pirates. War breeds opportunity for all sorts of unscrupulous sorts. Now to protect the convoy, I think it would be best if we flew in a tight formation the whole way there. Fury will lead the pack and hopefully scare off anyone foolish enough to trifle with us, Charon and Oeillet will assume flanking positions on the port and starboard flanks respectfully, and Cronus will bring up the rear. If anyone is stupid enough to engage us, a Olympian class destroyer, bringing the hammer down on them will sort them out quick enough.
There were nods around the table, including from Captain Mao.
“Well,” Mao said. “With that settled, best you all get back to your ships and we get a bouncing. We got a long way to go and a short time to get there.”
Walking back to the Wu’s shuttle bay, Jonathan and William chatted somewhat.
“So once we get to Kratos what have you heard about its CO?” Jonathan asked.
William waved his hand. “Commodore Dorgihan. The rumor mill has been working overtime on him that’s for sure. I’v
e heard he’s a drunk, a philanderer, and a fiend, I’ve also heard he’s a mustang with a chip the size of a mountain on his shoulder toward men of ‘good breeding’.”
“We’ll you’ll want to stay out of sight then,” Jonathan said.
William shook his head. “I doubt it. My family's disgrace is well known despite my brothers efforts to repair the damage.” William looked at Jonathan with a sideways glance.
“Hmmm... and yet you’ve married into one of the most prominently conservative families in the entire Republic,” Jonathan said.
“Yes, to the Liberal black sheep of the herd. I don’t suppose you caught the tabloids?” Will asked.
Jonathan shook his head, “You know I make a point of avoiding garbage journalism. It’s bad for the soul.”
“Oh we’ll, then you will have missed the section in the New Sun that is quoting anonymous sources at the Grand Horton that Bethany Trendale, a well known Landed socialite was seen in the company of Hero Naval officer, Jonathan Pavel.”
Jonathan stopped dead in his tracks. “I uh.. look Will I..” Jonathan looked at Will’s sniggering face.
Jonathan must have looked very confused, because Will went from sniggering to full on laughing.
“Ah, I take it you are not angry then?”
“Of course not. God John, how thick do you think I am? She messaged me from the hotel after the Provost dragged you away. She told me not to say anything though because you're so delicate with honor and all that. She thought you’d be quite distraught over sleeping with your friend’s sister,” Will said smiling. “Actually, I was impressed you managed to resist for so long. Oh don't look so surprised Jonathan, if I decked everyman she pounced on I wouldn't have any friends left.”
At that last comment, George, who had valiantly kept a straight face out of loyalty, burst out laughing.
“Oh shut up George. Will, I didn't mean to cross any lines, but come to think of it pounce was the optimum word.”
“Well Bethany is a big believer in making merry for tomorrow and all that,” Will replied.
“Oh wait that tabloid, oh god my mother..” Jonathan said burying his face in his hands.
“She has an alert set up for any of her children’s names in her news feed. How bad was the story?”
“One paragraph of scandalous gossip. I wouldn't think your dear ma would mind you taking up with high class women. She was a lady of high birth I seem to recall,” Will said.
“Yes, and that’s the problem. My mother is..well... she is not fond of the tabloids to say the least. As I seem to recall, her exact words were, ‘Now that you are famous Jonathan, the only time I want to read about you and a woman in the papers is your wedding announcement.’”
“Ouch,” George said, before looking to Will. “I take it you’ve met Ms. Pavel?”
“I have. Lovely woman, very strong willed even considering her illness,” Will said.
“I am going to have a very, very awkward visit next time I am in New Perth,” Jonathan said hanging his head.
“It's a universal constant. You are appointed by the Navy with the Consent of the Senate to command an entire warship, but as soon as you are in the same room as your mother you might as well be five years old again.”
They all laughed at that.
The good humor helped to lift Jonathan's spirits, but a shadow drifted over. His mind went to the dead spacer who had been killed in the docking procedures. Good humor was an antidote to many things, and one was the tension men felt on the eve of war. Though none said it, they all knew there was a good chance they would never see their loved ones or each other again. Jonathan and his XO bid the other officers adieu and boarded their shuttle for the quick flight back to the Fury. Jonathan remained silent the whole way, thinking about Bethany and her beautiful eyes. Make merry indeed, for tomorrow we may be dead. Next to Jonathan, George quietly hummed an old children's tune while looking at photos his pregnant wife had sent him.
In his mind, Jonathan put the lyrics to the tune -
“Can you hear the war drums, bum, bum, bum..”
The next day with all preparations made, the convoy’s twelve ships - four troop transports, three bulk haulers and four escorts - gathered information and proceeded to the Yimir Wormway. It would be 28 days to their destination, and the tension felt aboard ship was palpable. In fourteen days, the ultimatum would expire and then they could very well be at war. Little did they realize, they wouldn't have to wait nearly that long.
Chapter IX
Torch System, Freeport in
Orbit of Primus IV, Free Worlds League
Solarian Embassy
October 31st 844 AE
All Hallows Eve, Halloween, Deus Morte, the Hungry Ghost Festival. Men had carried various names for this day when they went to the stars. Traq had never cared for October 31st, no matter what it was called. It was an unlucky day. All those holidays supposedly commemorated the day when the veil between the spirit and physical world was at its thinnest, and it was possible for the departed to cross back to the world of the living and linger there. Traq didn't believe in ghosts of course, but he did believe in omens. The Solarian Embassy had a small chapel, which was available for any of its staff to use as they saw fit. It was late local time, closer to dawn then midnight and Traq found himself in the chapel. He had taken the idol Ganesha from its silk padded nook upon the low table, which functioned as a shrine, and lit the incense that now filled the room with its noxious smoke. Finally, he set his offering upon the table.
Silently he prayed, but he wasn't sure what for. He wasn't particularly religious, but when he was nervous and unable to sleep he prayed.
A hand touched his shoulder, and he looked up to see Claudia Min.
“Sorry to bother you ambassador, but we need you in the situation room.”
“What’s happening Claudia?”
“I..I don't know sir, but it’s bad.”
Traq saw something in her eyes he hadn't seen before. It was fear.
He followed her from the chapel into the sub-basement where a handful of civilian technicians sat next to black and grey uniformed OMI intel officers.
Traq saw why he had been summoned. On the monitor, Freeport news media showed images from across the League. Government Buildings on three worlds surrounded by armed men, tanks on the streets. The headline caught Traq’s attention, ‘Pro-Solarian Coup?’
“What in gods name?” Traq was interrupted by an explosion.
“Major,” one of the intel men cried. “We’ve got armed troops advancing on Parliament, the central broadcasting station, the dockyards, and the central armoury. Others are taking up position to defend those points.”
“Shit!” Min said.
Traq couldn't have said it better himself.
What he didn't realize was that this was just the beginning of the bad news.
New Helsinki, Novi Toulouse Wormway
Solarian Navy Listening Post Echo-89
October 31st 844 AE
Light years away from Freeport sat Specialist Gavin Xing manning the main console of listening post Echo-89. This was a small space station which held only two dozen men but enough signal and lidar gear to monitor half the system. The listening post was positioned near the Novi Toulouse wormway, and was meant to serve as a trip wire to alert the local Solarian forces if anyone came through the wormway. Ever since the Premier’s ultimatum, both the Solarians and Colonials had suspended transit rights through their wormways, forcing neutral merchantmen to sail around the Confederacy to reach Republic space and vise-versa if they were headed coreward. Xing rubbed his eyes and glanced at his chrono. Twenty minutes till the end of his shift, and then it was back to his quarters for a shower before the weekly semi-legal card game. New Helsinki had been heavily reinforced since the incident. In addition to two Army Brigades now garrisoning the planet and a reinforced OD net, the Navy had finished construction of the orbital elevator hub and turned it into a command and control node for the entire syst
em. A reinforced task force consisting of two Battleships the older Republic class Glory and the newer Sinking class Levelflats guarded the system along with their consorts a cruiser squadron, two destroyer squadrons, a wing of star fighter and a wing of bombers based on an orbital battle station. All of this, along with the now expanded and well equipped local forces, made it easy to say the system had never been so secure. Xing was already mentally calculating how much money to put up for tonight's game when suddenly his board lit up like a Christmas tree.
“Oh sweet Jesus!” Xing said reacting on muscle memory and training. He started running through the sequence.
“Echo-89 to Fulcrum, Echo-89 to Fulcrum. Massive disruption in wormway, incoming Tangos repeat..” the alarms squealed as the wormway spat out six Colonial destroyers and a Colonial carrier. Seconds after the transition completed the destroyers, who had put their crews at great risk by making them man their stations during transit, began launching missiles, while the carrier began scrambling attack craft.
“Repeat Tangos identified as X-ray 1 through 7. Repeat seven X-rays, six destroyers and one carrier. Carrier is launching strike craft…”
The missiles began to impact targets closest to the wormway. The great ring, which had taken years to build and had kept the corridor between stars stable for decades was blown asunder, as was the nearby temporal weather station.
“Scorched Earth..repeat X-rays have gone..Scorched…” Xing pulled off his headphones as his console went to static and a low whine went through his headset. The jamming drones that the destroyers had launched with their missile salvo came in range cutting of all coms traffic. Xing jumped up as fast as he could and ran as quickly as he could toward the escape pods. He almost made it, the missile was quicker though.
Before Echo-89 was obliterated in a flash of a fusion warhead, the message its crew had broadcast flashed across the New Helsinki system. In an instant, the Solarian command began issuing orders. The Naval task readied for battle, Army units began to take up defensive positions, klaxons wailed across New Helsinki’s cities sending civilians to shelters and calling their military forces to arms. Meanwhile, the fighting Orbital Denial batteries groaned to life, and loaded their massive ship destroying ordnance. Word of the attack flashed through the laser relays across the Republic. The war had started.
