by Trevor Wyatt
“I think the idea is to make it hurt so much that the Sonali consider withdrawing,” I reply. “I don’t know how it works in the Sonali homeworld. Maybe if we can make a lot of trouble for them, their people will revolt against the government’s war policies and maybe…maybe they’d give up.”
Hadley scowls. “That’s a big maybe, Craig, and you know it. But I guess the real question is, what would you do if something terrible is being asked of you?”
“I don’t think I’d do it,” Tadius says, surprising everyone.
Everyone has been coded about how they phrase their reply. However, it is obvious that they don’t like taking orders that violate the defining charter of the Armada. No one has, however, openly vocalized their intention to reject a direct order from a superior officer in the time of war. This is tantamount to mutiny, an event that is unheard of in the Terran Armada. And for it to come from a security officer, one who’s meant to ensure mutiny does not occur intrigues me.
We all look at him for more explanation.
“Hell, I didn’t sign up to kill innocent civilians,” he says. “Who are we kidding? We aren’t soldiers. We are explorers. The little experience we had with the Outers did nothing to prepare us for the Sonali. I’d rather be court-martialed than do something to violate the core of my personality.
“My integrity is more important to me than my oath to the Armada.”
We are yet to be asked to do something that will require this kind of commitment. However, I can feel it in my blood that it’s coming. When that time comes, I want to know that I’m not the only one who feels this way. I want to know that there are some people I can count on.
“It’s not just about refusing to take an order,” I proceed. “It’s about doing all that’s necessary to stop the order from being executed, especially when the ship’s crew is at a risk of destruction.”
I pause, watching as their eyes lit up with shock and turn to look at me. I’ve always been known as someone who isn’t afraid to say what needs to be said or do what needs to be done. I’ve always been known as someone who’s smart with the people I talk to. I chose to bond with these top officers because I’ve worked with them on other ships at different times in my fifteen-year career with the Armada.
I know these guys like I know the back of my hand. I know they’d support whatever decision I make. I just need to make them see reason. What better place and time to make them see reason than a place where we’ll not be disturbed (ergo, the officer’s mess) and a time before their support is required (ergo, now).
Now is the best chance I have, this I know as well as I know myself.
No one says anything.
“Guys, relax,” I say with a disarming smile. I sense the tension reduce a couple of notches.
“I’m not suggesting anything illegal,” I say. “I’m just saying if the crew can’t think for itself, we need to think for it or help them think for themselves. Until someone speaks out, things may not change. Until someone takes action, nothing will change.
“If we take action, you’d be surprised at how many people would respond in your favor,” I say. “And when the news spreads across the Armada, you’d be surprised of the cascading effect it would have.”
“Jake, I’ve known you for ten years,” Tadius, the chief security officer says, “I’ve never known you to speak so…revolutionarily before. Is there something you have planned?” His eyes are suspicious.
Tadius has taken an interest in my statements, so much so that I begin to have second thoughts about his notion of the Armada. Is he a spy, maybe? The thought brings a half smile on my face. If he’s a spy for the captain, then I’m so massively screwed.
I let out a nervous laughter.
“No,” I say.
I can hear Hadley exhale softly beside me.
“But,” I say. “I wouldn’t put it past me if things go south with Terror.”
The TUS Terror was recently retrofitted with the latest weaponry in the Armada’s arsenal. She’s still a pretty small frigate compared to other front-line vessels like TUS Seeker. Nonetheless, she’s fast and agile and now with her laser cannons, particle beam and photon bombs, she’s infinitely more powerful.
However, we still don’t stand a chance alone against the Sonali. I have no doubt that very soon we will be sent on a mission that we will not return from. I intend to prevent such an occurrence. If I can help it, I will not let the crew of this ship die because of some order we received from some potbellied admiral back at New Washington.
We are currently hurtling to Edoris Space Station, which is the Armada’s staging area for the war against the Sonali. We are expected to receive our combat orders from Admiral Flynn before heading on. No one knows what our orders will be. Thus far, we’ve been protecting important colonies and ferrying admirals around.
Now, with the number of ships reducing everyday, every available ship is being retrofitted. Some are being upgraded (it’s easier to upgrade a ship than to build new ones, obviously) with new technology and weaponry and being sent back to the front line. With our new retrofit, we are most probably going to battle the Sonali for the first time.
It, therefore, means our end is near, unless we’re lucky and manage to be that one or two vessel that makes it out of the battle alive. It is, in fact, this series of events that has led me to begin considering all the terrible woes of the Armada.
It is easier to rebel when you have a morally justifiable reason to do so. It is hard when your action is inspired by fear and cowardice.
Yes, I am afraid. But I’m not a coward. If we are indeed sent to the front line and come up against the Sonali, then we will fight until there is no breath left in our bodies. If, however, we are asked to glass a planet or do something terrible, I’m out.
I still don’t know if all that qualifies as terrible, but I do know that sending a frigate to fight against a dreadnought is pure suicide. Heck, sending a frigate to fight a Sonali cruiser all by itself is irresponsible.
“The signs are everywhere, Tadius,” I begin. “We’ve been upped. More weapons. More powerful shield. More crew. You don’t do something like that for a frigate if you want it to remain a transport vessel for admirals or a security vessel for mining colonies. You only do something like that if you intend to send the frigate into combat.”
“Meaning, we will soon be facing some of the hard choices we’ve been condemning here in the officer’s mess for the past seven weeks,” Chen continues, understanding my reasoning.
“Yes,” I say. “Are we hypocrites? Or will we do something about it?”
Tadius arches his eyebrows. “Careful, now. Someone might think you are planning a mutiny.” He rises to his feet and leans in to whisper to us, “Be careful about what you say to people outside this group. They might actually think you a mutineer and report you to me, and then I’ll have to do something about it.” And he walks out of the officer’s mess.
“What’s up with him?” asks Commander Chen.
“I don’t think he likes some of the top commanders in the ship talking about mutiny,” Commander Hadley replies.
I don’t say anything. Tadius’ response is unfortunate, but not unexpected. Perhaps, it’s not like I’m planning a mutiny. I’m only saying it’s not off the board when push comes to shove.
“Guys, no one is saying anything about a mutiny,” I say to assure them. “I’m just saying there may come a time when the ship enters the war and we have to make the right choices. They may not be legal, but they must be right. When that time comes, be damned sure that I will make the right choice. And I hope you will follow me.”
“Most people prefer you to Captain Joana,” Chen says. “Even the CNC crew. All Captain Joana cares about is licking the asses of those admirals back at Armada Command. So, they’ll follow you. But you better make sure before you take any action. Because once you start down this path, there’s no turning back.”
“First Officer, please report to the CNC,” comes the c
ommunications officer’s voice through the ship’s intercom.
I rise to my feet, my heart leaping into overdrive.
“We must be coming close to Edoris,” Hadley says, breathing hard. “I guess we’re about to find out when our death certificates will be signed.”
We all laugh nervously. Yet, Hadley’s words are profound, and they stick with me, even as I make my way to the CNC on the topmost deck. The front line isn’t really a front line.
A front line assumes that there are equal loses on both sides. A front line assumes that the line is holding and that both sides are applying roughly equal amount of force against each other. A front line assumes that there are equal damages on both sides.
No, there’s no front line in this battle. There’s only a massacre ground, where the Sonali come to destroy us, and we come to be destroyed. That and our dwindling border. Since the war started, we have lost more than ten percent of our territory. We are projected to lose more in half the time because we no longer have enough ships.
Armada Command tells us that if we can hold it for a few more months, the next batch of ships will greatly relieve some of the pressure and stress. They say that these next set of ships are larger and more equipped. They are also built well, and there are no hull leaks (which is the leading cause of the destruction of our vessels, especially in new and quickly built ones).
I march into the CNC, quickly taking my position to the captain’s right.
Captain Joana gives me a nod, to which I respond with a nod of my own. I glance at my screen and see that we have changed heading. We are no longer heading towards the Space Station. We’ve made a deviation and are now heading towards the Azukene Colony.
I am about to ask the captain, when she says, “First Officer, to my read room.”
I follow her to her read room, which is a tiny compartment adjacent to the CNC. There’s a desk and a chair and an overhead console with holographic user interface. It’s one of the new upgrades the ship got. Before now, there was no console at all.
Captain Joana is a young woman in her early thirties. A star officer, who rose the ranks of the Armada majorly by pushing paper and writing military strategy dissertation. I don’t consider her a worthy leader because she’s not battle-tested. It is clear that the field is different from the classroom. Joana is a green captain. She’s going to put us at risk on the front line.
She’s an average height woman with brunette hair. She’s not particularly attractive, but she carries herself with an air of pride. Maybe it’s because of her PhD, because it certainly isn’t because of her command skills.
“I want to know that I can count on you to follow my orders, Commander,” she says, her eyes hardened and unreadable.
Captain Joana has never questioned my loyalty to her before—I’ve been stealthily good at hiding my grievances to even give her a need to worry. This is why when she asks me such a question, my first response is control panic. Panic, because I am flooded with a sense of dread, and controlled because I don’t give away anything.
Had Tadius sold me out to the captain? Is that why she’s asking me such a question?
“I have not given you a reason to doubt my loyalty, have I?” I ask.
“No, Jake,” she replies. “Admiral Flynn sent us a slipstream message. He’s diverting all ships to the Azukene colony.”
“Why?” I ask with a frown. “That’s way inside Terran Union Space. The Sonali wouldn’t venture that far in.”
“It’s not just any Sonali ship,” she says, her eyes widened with terror. “They sent a dreadnought.”
My entire body begins to shiver with cold fear.
“They want us to go and fight that thing,” she says.
“Alone?” I reply, my voice high.
“No,” she says. “All ships in the vicinity are being diverted there. There are some ships that have already engaged.”
“How many?”
“Ten,” she replies.
“How many are destroyed?” I ask.
She doesn’t reply.
I almost shout on her to reply. I force down the urge, let out a quiet breath, and say, “Ma’am, if you want to trust me, you got to trust me all the way.”
She sighs. “As the time the message came in, there were eight ships destroyed. Two more and the dreadnought is only at fifty percent shields.”
I stagger back in terror.
“We will arrive about ten minutes before the Cavalry,” she says. “The other two ships don’t stand a chance at taking that thing down. They will buy us about five minutes. Our job is to keep them occupied until the Cavalry arrives.”
“You mean to be their target until the Cavalry arrives,” I spit back, totally aflame with anger.
Captain Joana says, “Whatever it takes. That colony must not fall to the Sonali. There is a shit load of equipment being manufactured there for the next generation of starships. If we don’t stop the dreadnought from leveling that planet, we may not last very long.
“Our very survival depends on this. Are you with me, Jake?”
I don’t reply. I only double back some more.
Captain Joana straightens up. “Well, I suggest you prepare yourself for this, Commander,” she says, officious one more time. “Because it’s going down one way or the other. Dismissed.”
The first place I go to when I leave the CNC is Tadius’s office, which is at the armory.
I barge into his tiny office without knocking. The man sits behind a workstation going over some files when I come in,
He looks up at me. After examining me for a few seconds, he says, “Calm down, Jake. Take a sit.” He motions to the seat against the wall on his right.
“I can’t sit, Tadius, not while we are headed to our deaths at the moment,” I reply. I look up and say, “Computer, how long until we get to Azukene colony?”
“Twenty minutes, Commander,” the computer replies.
Tadius shuts down his workstation and gives me his full attention now. “Why are we going to Azukene? Isn’t that where the corps manufacture parts for our starships?” His frown deepens. “And isn’t that way inside Terran Union space?”
“Yes and yes,” I reply. “I don’t know if we have a spy in our ranks or if the Sonali somehow managed to crack our secure communications network, but they must somehow have figured it out. Now they’ve sent a dreadnought to destroy the planet.”
Tadius comes to his feet with a stifled cry. “They want us to take it out alone?”
“No,” I reply. “They want us to keep the dreadnought busy until the cavalry arrives. A battle fleet of ten ships was sent to protect the planet. The dreadnought destroyed eight.”
“If we go there, they’ll make short work of us,” Tadius replies. “We have no tactical or significant advantage against the dreadnought. Why send us?”
“To buy time,” I say. “See what I’ve been saying? It’s all happening. They want us to buy time.”
“You don’t buy time with human lives,” Tadius replies, angry.
“First Officer,” says the communications officer over the intercom. “Report to the CNC.”
I switch gears immediately. “How many men are loyal to you?”
Tadius is thrown off by my question. He doesn’t reply.
“Come one, Tadius!” I say. “How many? Do you want to die?”
“I don’t know,” he says, yielding. “The ones on the CNC are loyal to me. About three quarter are, I guess. The rest, I don’t know.”
“That’s enough,” I say. “Let’s go.”
I hop into the armory and grab a laser blaster, concealing it in my pants, under my jumpsuit top. Then I march out of the office, with Tadius in close tow.
“What are you planning to do?” Tadius says, hurrying up to catch up with me.
“Trying to save our asses.”
“You’re gonna get us jailed,” Tadius replies.
“Better in a cell than floating around in space, dead.”
Back in the CNC
, I take my place at my workstation, while Tadius takes his place at one of the workstations in the back. Commander Chen, who is at the science officer’s station glances at me. I give him a slight, knowing nod and he nods back. Then I see him sending a message to Hadley down.
At that exact time, the ship drops out of FTL. We arrive just in time to see the last standing vessel go up in an explosion. Between us and the dreadnought is a vast network of debris and bodies, spreading across space.
The dreadnought is impossibly large, larger than any Sonali ship I’ve ever seen. It has visible cannons and gun ports.
“Ma’am,” I say, “There’s no way we make it out of this alive.”
Captain Joana doesn’t reply. She’s engrossed with the readout on the view screen.
“Navigator, plot a course for the dreadnought,” she says. “Go through the debris. It should hide us long enough for us to sneak up on them.”
“Aye, Captain,” replies the navigator.
“Ma’am, after that, what’s next?” I say. “You read the reports. Ten ships specially designed for war could not bring that thing down. They barely made a scratch. What does a small frigate like ours stand a chance?”
Captain Joana says, “First Officer Jake, I find your speech to be demoralizing for the crew. Refrain from speaking like that any longer. Otherwise, I will have you removed from the CNC.”
I hold her glare with one of my own.
She looks away. “Perhaps I have a plan.”
“What plan?” I blurt out.
She doesn’t reply.
“Ma’am,” the navigator says. “The dreadnought has started an approach for the planet.”
“The ship is acquiring specific firing solutions for facilities on the planet, captain,” the science officer says. “We have to stop it.”
“Course plotted, Captain,” says the navigator.
“Engage the sub light drives,” she says. “Full speed ahead. We are going to ram them. That should give Captain Jeryl and the others enough time to get here.”
The navigator pauses, turning to look at me for help. I don’t respond because I am overwhelmed with confusion.
