Knights of the Chosen soe-2

by Lawrence P White

  Josh paused for a moment before continuing, looking Mike straight in the eyes. “You see my men as trained killers, sir. What you don’t see and may not know is that every single one of them functions as an executive. Every one of them is a college graduate, each of them has had to demonstrate high intelligence, they’re good planners, and every one of them is a leader.”

  “What about families?”

  Josh rubbed his hand along his jaw as he considered. “That’s the tough part, isn’t it? There’s no good way to leave families behind, though we’ve done it before for shorter periods of time. It’s a terrible sacrifice, more so for our families than ourselves. My wife will skin me alive, but she’ll also be proud if she’s ever allowed to know what we’ve done. My men are pretty much all in the same boat there.”

  “We’re not asking anyone to keep this a secret from their spouses, Josh. We just don’t want it going any further than that.” He took Josh’s hand and shook it. “You’re in, if Admiral Trexler agrees. You realize that the Queen’s security detail answers to me?”

  Josh smiled. “You I can handle, sir. It’s this Otis guy I’ve heard about that concerns me.”

  “We’ll see about getting you a few days off before we ship out. I’ll talk to the admiral, but you’d better get started on finding your replacements.”

  “Already done, sir. I just need the go ahead. If you’re willing, I’ll make the call to Admiral Trexler.”

  Mike nodded and Josh saluted him, then at a hand signal from Josh, he and Horth turned away.

  A week before the anticipated departure from Earth, two freighters from Serge arrived in orbit with the message Val had sent via drone to Parsons World. Colonel Dace arrived in Washington, DC with the message, joining Mike, Reba, and Admiral Trexler in their hotel.

  Val’s message explained that, though he had not yet reached Orion III, he believed Admiral Korban had bowed to pressure from above to place Chessori observers aboard some or all of his ships. Val believed the Chessori’s purpose was identical to what he had experienced aboard his own cruiser, Beta IV. The Chessori would be held in reserve until needed, then simply take over Empire ships at will. Orion Sector could well be lost if the Chessori were not rooted out from the ships and from sector headquarters. Was it possible for Earth to supply soldiers specifically for this job? Just a few per ship would be a huge help, though more would be better. He couldn’t know for certain how entrenched the Chessori were on Orion III, and other sectors might be at risk as well.

  Val appended a couple of important pieces of intelligence. He believed the Chessori communicated telepathically. The range of this communication was unknown. It might be the interstellar communications system they had heard about, though that seemed farfetched to him. Because of this telepathic ability, all ships within a squadron would have to deal with the Chessori at the same instant and from an isolated position far out in space between worlds. If they didn’t, the Chessori would have the ability to warn Chessori in other ships. If the range of this telepathic ability was interstellar, they had a much more serious problem, possibly an insurmountable problem.

  He desperately needed several hundred men. A thousand would be better.

  Val’s last item brought a gasp from Mike. Val informed him that though the Chessori had partnered with the Rebels, their ultimate goal was to replace the Rebels and take the Empire for themselves.

  Mike turned to Trexler, shaken. “Can your guys clear ships?”

  “Definitely not. They can fly, and they can man guns, but they’re not hand-to-hand guys. What Val needs is soldiers trained at urban warfare. They’ll be clearing corridors and fighting room to room within the confines of a ship.”

  Colonel Dace was the first to speak. “We barely scratched the surface of global special operations troops when we put my group together, but what you’re describing is perhaps the most difficult fighting of all, and the casualties will be high. You need really good men, but you need men you can afford to lose.”

  “I’m not sending anyone into certain death,” Mike replied.

  Trexler corrected him. “You don’t want to, but you might have to, Mike. Welcome to the ranks of colonels, generals, and admirals. We sometimes have to make those hard choices.” He held up a hand as Mike prepared to argue. “We’re not going to send anyone into certain death, but we are going to send them into certain danger. There will be losses. It’s our job to minimize those losses by choosing the right people, then training, equipping, and leading them. It’s also our job to ensure a steady flow of replacements as the men get used up. We have a fairly large body of men trained with just the skills you need. They’re called Rangers. There’s probably no one on the planet better at urban warfare. We’ll have to see the President again.”

  “We have to keep it an international force if we can.”

  “I’m not going to make that call,” Trexler replied. “What do you think, Josh?”

  “We need to select the leader of these men and let him decide,” Josh answered without hesitation. “And I know just the guy for you. His name is Colonel Waverly. He was a Green Beret before Delta recruited him. He’s back with the Rangers now, and I’ve worked with him on occasion when we needed backup from the Rangers. If you can get him, we won’t have to wait around while he gets everything together. He’s been in special operations most of his career, except when he’s been on loan to other countries to liaise with their own special operations guys, and if anyone can put together an international force of urban warfare experts, it’s him. And he’s seen a lot of action. There’s no one better to call the shots.”

  “Where will he get his troops? Can we come up with the thousand Val requested?”

  “Our Rangers can easily spare a thousand, but Waverly has contacts all over the world. He can bring in British, Israelis, Russians, and he’ll probably bring more SEALS, Marine Recon and Green Berets, maybe even Military Police, and some Shore Patrols,” Josh answered. “The Marines and SP’s are well-trained on shipboard duties; they might be a good resource for tactics aboard ships. The rest specialize more in street fighting, but the skills are similar. Waverly will get them, he’ll make sure they’re very good, and he’ll make sure they speak English. And a thousand won’t be any problem at all. Waverly can get the first batch on their way, then someone else can start working on reinforcements and replacements.”

  Assignments were finalized: Mike would accompany Josh and his men to Brodor while Reba remained on Earth to work with Waverly. When Waverly’s group left for Centauri III, she would accompany them. That left Trexler on his own, but only until reaching Parsons’ World. There he would have the full support of Chandrajuski’s fleet.

  Senator Morrison was present to see them off. Just before boarding his ship, Mike handed him an envelope containing a note from Val. After reading it, the senator sighed. “He’s asking my permission for Reba’s hand. I already like him. Reba’s told me all about him. He seems exceptional.”

  “He is,” Mike agreed. “In every way. I can’t offer higher praise.”

  “Well, when you see him tell him he has my blessing, and thanks for asking. I’ll put in a request that they wait until her mother and I can attend, but we’ll understand if they don’t.”

  Mike grinned. “They’re separated by light years at the moment. I’ll pass on the message.”

  “Light years might even be a challenge for Reba,” Senator Morrison answered morosely but with a grin. “God bless you all.”

  Three freighters from Parsons’ World landed at night on a remote dry lake in Nevada. Awaiting them were Trexler’s 1,000 pilots and gunners destined to spread throughout Chandrajuski’s fleet and Dace’s 300 Delta, SEALS, and SAS specialists. The two ships destined for Parsons’ World left first, each carrying half of Trexler’s officers. The remaining ship lifted for Brodor soon after, carrying Mike, Dace, and the men who would be Protectors.

  Chapter Nine

  Excitement filled Admiral Raymond Trexler’s thoughts as he
boarded his ship in the high Nevada desert, but the excitement was soon replaced with misgivings. Rudimentary furnishings had been provided in cargo holds for his 500 men and women, but there was little privacy. Not a great beginning for his recruits, he grumbled to himself as he moved among them offering words of encouragement and patience. He had expected more from this Empire he had agreed to help, but he was not about to admit it to anyone but himself.

  Translator devices were handed out, and once they were in space, Serge’s captain spoke to them, apologizing for the accommodations but informing them that their stay on the ship would be brief. The trader was a fast ship, and the voyage would only last a few weeks.

  Trexler knew that at the moment his biggest enemy was inactivity. He sought out the captain, and together they constructed a full agenda for the recruits. Language training was a high priority, and Serge had sent several language specialist to get them started. Crewmembers, when available, led groups of recruits on tours of the ship, including the bridge, while others held classes in galactic geography and Empire government. Trexler and his senior staff were offered opportunities to enter the net, and all but Trexler did. He chose to defer his own training, deciding that his presence among his recruits was more important.

  Reports from the officers who entered the net filtered down continually, giving hope and confidence to everyone. Yes, it was possible to learn to fly the ship, and yes, it was a lot of fun.

  Admiral Chandrajuski greeted Trexler on Parsons’ World and whisked him and his senior officers to a meeting while everyone else got settled into quarters. The second ship landed right behind the first, and Trexler’s 1,000 recruits were a single unit once again.

  Trexler was impressed with the program Chandrajuski had thrown together. Not only were lessons and coursework ready, Chandrajuski had thoughtfully arranged for the well-being of the recruits as well. Each received a complete physical, and in some cases, cures for ailments that were just an ordinary part of life on Earth. Glasses and contact lenses soon disappeared – they were no longer needed. Certain pathogens were erased from a large number of these aging warriors, and exercise periods were a required part of the curriculum but with a twist. Elementary language lessons took place during the exercise periods, even when the words were not completely understood. Shouting out proper pronunciation during repetitions was a great way to accustom voices to demands of the new language they would learn, and repetition taught numbers and letters.

  Chandrajuski was astounded when Ellie dropped from hyperspace. He, Serge, and Trexler met her as she disembarked from the trader late that same day, her Protectors surrounding her. Trexler kneeled beside them, and she stopped before him in surprise. “Admiral Trexler?” she asked.

  “At your service, Your Majesty,” he said, looking up at her with a grin.

  She took his hand, forcing him to stand, and just stared at him, then turned to Chandrajuski. “Do you know who you have here?” she asked.

  “He’s in charge of the recruits from Earth, Your Majesty. You know him?”

  She stepped back to study Trexler, directing her words to Chandrajuski. “Do you remember the admiral who helped Mike and me escape from Earth?”

  Chandrajuski’s head swung toward Trexler on his long neck. “You’re him?”

  “I am, sir.” He turned to Ellie. “It’s a pleasure to meet you again. Your situation is improved this time, but not by much.”

  “Indeed, it is not. Mike said you would likely be out of a job after we left, that there was no approved method in military circles for dealing with aliens, and you’d be sacked. I’ve always regretted that.”

  “There were some interesting meetings after you left, but I managed to hold on. I lost my fleet, but I was promoted and given the job of spreading the word of you aliens to carefully selected world leaders. Mike pulled me from that job, too.”

  She smiled. “Much to our benefit, Admiral. I’m pleased that you’re here, and pleased that you have heard my call and responded a second time. This time, it must have been by choice.”

  “Definitely by choice, Your Majesty. Mike, Reba, and Alexis were all well when I last saw them.”

  “I needed to hear that. Thank you. Will you three meet with me in my quarters? I’d like to be brought up to date, and I want to know what I can do here to assist with the training of our newest recruits.”

  “Your Majesty?” Chandrajuski said in shock.

  “You heard me. I’m going to help. If nothing else, I managed to pick up a little of the language from Mike and Reba, and my Rider is from Jake’s line. It knows the language well. Perhaps I can help my recruits with their language lessons.”

  She took Trexler by the arm and walked away, leaving Chandrajuski and Serge Parsons staring at each other in amazement.

  Ellie jumped right into the language lessons. Her students immediately focused on the Great Cats accompanying her, so she concentrated her first lessons on them. Expecting to find the training monotonous, she instead found it exhilarating. Within a couple of months, the only language permitted at the training facility was Galactic High Standard except during technical classes where translating devices were required.

  When she wasn’t teaching, she was talking. She insisted that, regardless of how full the training schedule was, these men and women from Earth had the right to know the full story, not only of the Chessori and the rebellion, but of the impact others from Earth had already made within her Empire. Schedulers made certain she spoke before every class of recruits, and Mike and Reba’s story became well-known to these warriors. A sense of pride filled them, and more important, she convinced them that they could, in fact, learn this job and make a difference. In her estimation, it wouldn’t be long before their own stories added to the tale.

  Serge’s training facilities worked around the clock with the goal of each recruit experiencing the net within the first few days after arrival. Even ships in port were used to bring the recruits into the net. By the end of the second week, some 100 had moved on to weapons training. By the end of the second month, everyone was flying ships in the simulator mode. Detailed training in handling ships and weapons under battle conditions soon followed. Admiral Seeton’s ships, the squadrons he had promised, began arriving at about the same time. Trexler sent half of the recruits into space to continue their training, rotating each half of the trainees on a two week cycle.

  In some ways, Trexler’s recruits had the easiest training regimen, but in the long run theirs was the most technically demanding. They had the net to train them, but unlike Mike’s hurried training on Earth, these warriors not only had to learn to handle their ships, they had to learn to function as a battle group, and the standards set by Chandrajuski and his admirals were much higher than Mike had ever achieved.

  Two difficult stumbling blocks presented themselves. The first was language. Though language was not an issue in the net, each of Chandrajuski’s ships would be staffed with only a limited number of Terran crewmembers, and they had to function side-by-side with fully qualified Empire officers when outside the net. The second problem was the attitudes of the Empire crewmembers. They were understandably proud of their positions, and they, too, were warriors. They did not relish the thought of turning battles over to newcomers from an emerging world. None of these ships had fought the Chessori, and none of the crewmembers had experienced the scree. Until they did, the Terran sailors had to focus on diplomacy almost as much as training.

  Chandrajuski’s staff took care of administration, ensuring the recruits focused only on training, but Trexler and his senior staff could not avoid all administration. Every minute of every day was full for these leaders. Chandrajuski himself was in and out during these months of training, shuttling by fast ship to Aldebaran I and other sectors to meet with various admirals and politicians.

  At Ellie’s request, Trexler joined her for dinner whenever he could get away. Rather than giving him a break from his duties as she intended, it usually just meant less sleep for him, b
ut the two of them became instant friends.

  “Mike tells me that knowledge of aliens could have a severe impact on Earth culture,” she said as they relaxed before dinner.

  “Earth cultures, you mean. We’re like a kettle of soup, with beliefs ranging from one extreme to the other. All the parts go together to create a fine dish, but the individual parts remain just that – individual. Many of our people have no common grounds for coming together.”

  “Perhaps knowledge that they are not alone will provide that common ground.”

  He winced. “I wish it was so, but I don’t think it is. Not only are national identities strong, many are rooted in religious beliefs that are thousands of years old, beliefs that put humanity at the center of everything. It’s my understanding that most religions have no provisions for accepting outsiders. Many will brand the Empire as evil. It’s a huge problem, and there’s no way we’re going to hide our efforts out here for long.”

  “What’s being done about it?”

  “Knowledge is the key, and time is an important element in the process. My people tend to resist change even when it’s good for them. World leaders are spreading the word carefully, and they’re including religious leaders. I was part of the process just before coming here. The plan is to give these leaders time to consider how they will integrate their teachings with knowledge that we are not alone. I don’t know if the process will be successful.”