The view from the expansive arc of tempered glass had a soothing effect on him. It wasn't until being stranded in deep space that he'd been reacquainted with his love of the cosmos. He found after that ordeal that the quietness of the observation deck helped him think. He’d begun coming here more often as of late. The scare with Curtis during the recon mission, Alan’s uncertainties in his abilities, the uncertainties of the fleet’s ability to hold back the enemy and the ever present increasing direness of humanities situation had begun forming a mountain of worry that rested upon his shoulders. On this particular visit, the unique view of the heavens did nothing for the flurry of responsibility that tumbled through his mind. But at least the beauty of the cosmos was having a therapeutic effect on his nerves. The waiting was the worst part. What would tomorrow bring? What would today bring? Trying to lose himself, if only briefly, from the trials of life onboard Victoria, he ignored the large weapons of war surrounding her. Letting the weight momentarily lift from his shoulders he emptied his mind and stared at the stars and colors that surrounded him, focusing on the beauty of space he so rarely noticed anymore.
“It really is beautiful isn’t it?” Emily’s voice brought him out of his trance. “The stars, the comets, the slash the Milky Way makes across the sky. I always love coming here. Helps me forget this horrible war.”
“I know the feeling,” Jeff said quietly, his voice echoing her longing.
“Do you think there will ever be an end to this? Not the war I mean, but the universe. All the wonders, all the stars and planets. We’ve barely scraped the surface of all that’s out there to discover.”
“I don’t think so Emily. I think the universe will last as long as time.”
“Maybe,” she said quietly, “I just hope there’s somebody left to appreciate it.”
Jeff was caught by surprise. Emily’s normally uplifting spirit had been replaced by a dour tone he never expected from her. “What’s that all about?”
“Nothing, and everything. It just, feels, as if everything’s starting to spin out of control.”
“I don’t like that talk,” he said turning to face her. “I’ve heard far too much of that from all the grumps on this ship and never once did I think I’d hear it from you.” Before he could continue an announcement echoed over the PA summoning him to the captain’s briefing room. Sighing he ignored the follow up announcement wrapping Emily in a one armed hug. “Smile for me,” he said. After she blushingly obliged he added, “Thanks Emily. That’s the face I always want to remember.” Squeezing her shoulders with his arm he planted a quick peck on her cheek before trotting off for the elevator.
***
“Absolutely not!” Kami admonished while pressing her fists to the polished surface of the conference table. She anticipated Jeff balking at the mission plan that was handed down from command. What infuriated her was his insistence on leading it personally. “You've got to begin understanding Commander that as CAG your place is on this ship and not out there in a razor.”
“Oh cut the crap Commander,” Jeff fired back heatedly. “This idiotic plan is tantamount to suicide and you damn well know I'm the best pilot you've got."
Kami grit her teeth in frustration at the infuriating man. “What’s with you Grant? Fancy yourself a hero?” She fixed him with a steely glare, challenging him to deny her accusation.
In a way he did, matching her glare with one of his own and saying tightly, “There are no heroes in war Commander. Only victims.”
“All the more reason to stay here and coordinate instead of taking foolish risks," she seethed dismissively of his stubbornness.
“Jesus Christ Kami you're not my mother!”
“I'm warning you Mister,” she shot an accusatory finger at him. “Don't take that butt hurt tone with me. You are not leading this mission and that's final!"
Turning towards Styles, whom so far had decidedly stayed out of this spat, Jeff complained, "Captain, the XO is being irrational.” Squeezing her fists tight enough to crack her knuckles her temper began to reach a boiling point. “She green lit this piss poor excuse of an operation before I even got here,” he almost shouted in exasperation his arms opening wide in impatience. “Furthermore we've got one, maybe two chances at pulling this off.”
“I agree,” Styles’ words were lost as Kami punched the desk in frustration.
"Don't you dare try and pull an end run around me," she seethed biting off the words.
“Sorry Commander.” That smarmy smirk of his graced his lips. As if a petulant child, he folded his arms adding, “You heard it from the man’s mouth."
“The only thing I heard was he agrees, not that it's worth your life. And it sure as hell doesn't give you free reign to supersede my authority.”
“Well if you'd button your hole long enough to let him finish—”
“Grant!” Styles shouted, “That will be enough.” Kami felt vindicated by the captain’s outburst. The feeling was short lived however as Styles turned his eye on her, “That goes for you too Mister Thomas.” Folding a hand over his eyes the captain sighed. “This constant bickering, chest thumping, dick measuring contest you two have going is going to stop. In case you two have forgotten, there’s a weapon out there that could lead to our extinction!” his voice rose in a crescendo climaxing with a stern, “As of right now we have scant resources and even scanter time and I’m sick of this bullshit! You two are officers in the navy and I Goddamned well expect you to act like it.”
On his feet now, Styles bore down on the conference table glaring at both Jeff and Kami herself in turn. She’d never seen the captain become so agitated and was now questioning whether she allowed herself to push too far. “Grant,” the captain finally continued while directed a look of warning towards her, “pick your pilots and brief the squadrons on the operation. We launch the attack at zero nine thirty so that gives you twelve hours to get prepped and some rest. I suggest you use it wisely.”
“Aye-aye Sir,” Jeff said tightly and looking sufficiently chastised for a change. Strangely the sight of it didn’t bring her the usual satisfaction that it once would have. He’d made valid points; it was just the way he went about expressing them that drove her to shouting. Well, this time anyway, she tried to convince herself.
Kami stood rigidly, arms clasped tightly behind her back as Jeff turned to leave. Styles stopped him briefly saying, “And Mister Grant. If we survive this, you, Thomas, and I are going to have a very, very long talk.”
“Understood Sir,” he answered smartly before departing. She grit her teeth at that. Every time she would become firm with him he’d dig in his heels. When the captain does it he responds with the grace and demeanor expected of an officer. Why? All of the instruction her father gave her made it clear to keep her subordinates in line. Never give them an opening, never show weakness. It was as if he didn’t respect her.
As the hatch hissed closed she turned to protest the course of action when Styles gruffly said, “What the hell is with you?” The heat in his eyes hadn’t abated. “You seem hell bent on taking the opposite side of every argument with him. Why?”
“Duty Sir,” she said suddenly finding herself on the defensive. “As XO it is my responsibility to hold every crew member accountable and protect them from making ill-advised decisions.”
Styles snorted a loud Harrumph. “I think you’re being a little overprotective in this case Commander. In fact, he said it best. You’re not his mother.”
“I beg your pardon Sir, but I find that comment insulting.”
“Good,” Styles growled, “It was meant to be.” Kami tamped down her anger. It was bad enough being insulted by Grant, it was worse when Gunther added to it. “Since you can’t find it within yourself to find some kind of solution to your continued feud I’m removing you from Grant’s direct command. Outside of immediate combat operations, he’ll report directly to me until we sort this business out. If that means I have to transfer one of you. Well then, so be it.”
“Ah,” Kami began, her stomach was a flutter. What’s going on? Why can’t I think straight about this all of a sudden? That, that, man! Nothing has gone well since Grant got onboard this ship. “I mean,” she stammered, “that is…I understand Sir.”
“Are you sure Commander?” he didn’t sound like he believed her.
Taking a cleansing breath she replied, firmly this time, “I trust you will do what you think is best Captain. Permission to be excused?” Kami moved swiftly from the room on the heels of his reply, vexed at being embarrassed by Jeffery fucking Grant once again. The man must have held some deep seeded resentment of her. She couldn’t explain any other reason for him to go out of his way to torture her at every opportunity.
He struts around as if he owns the damn ship, she seethed. Flaunts his concubines, snubs his nose at regulations. Punching the call button for the lift, she glared at anyone surrounding her, making it all too clear she wanted to be alone. What do I care what the idiot does. If wants to get himself killed like my dumbass brother did, then so be it. I can't stop him from making bad decisions. Stepping though threshold when the lift arrived she heard Emily calling her name. She didn't feel like confiding even to her, the one person on board who seemed to understand. Pretending not to see her friend, she allowed the doors to hiss closed and leaned against the back bulkhead wondering what she was going to do.
***
Standing at the podium flipping through pages in the folder in front of him, Jeff waited patiently for Victoria’s pilots to assemble in the ready room. A low din of conversation filled the air. The usual banter being thrown about as people found their seats and waited anxiously for the briefing to start. Flipping the folder closed he look up at their expectant faces. After a quick glance at the clock he said, “All right everyone settle down, this is a big one.”
“Bigger than Eridani or the notches on Mako’s bedpost?” someone in the back joked producing a round of laughter and a shout of, “Hey!” from Alison.
“This time a little bit of both I think,” Jeff smiled throwing a wink at Alison. Dimming the lights, he stepped to the side activating the presentation screen. “Ladies and gentlemen, I give you our target,” he announced as a series of long range images flickered to life on the screen. “What you see here is the Drac’s new beastly toy. Colonel Wesker and his intelligence gremlins have creatively dubbed it the Cannon Ship, though I personally thought planet killing douche dispenser fit the bill better.” A round of chuckling answered him as the display continued to cycle through long and close range images of the dreaded weapon. “It’s big, mean, and ugly, and has something we haven’t seen before…aside from the ability to turn our home into the biggest ash cloud in history. There’s some type of energy shield surrounding the hull of it. In fact, Spanky here had a pretty close look at it not too long ago.”
“Shit ton closer than I cared for at that,” Curtis chimed in.
Transitioning the screen to a tactical diagram of the vessel Jeff continued, “The weapon is six-point-two kilometers of mean with the power to generate a concentrated beam of nasty Drac energy piss large enough to destroy a planet. And it’s our job to take it out.” After a short pause he added, “Very Star Wars I must say.”
“Star Wars?” Alison asked in the brief silence.
“It’s an old Earth movie,” Jeff answered, adding, “Next time you corner Spanky you can ask him about it. It's one of his favorites.”
“I just might do that sugar,” Alison purred at the thought. Turning, she mimed a kiss at Curtis, who flashed Jeff a glare promising to get him back for encouraging her advances.
“Anyway,” Jeff continued, “that’s beside the point. “Our job is to go out there and take it out before those Godless bastards can use it anywhere else.”
“Not to derail this plan or anything,” Jason chimed in. “But that thang's gonna be crawling with toads and they's gonna eat us up.” A murmur of agreement echoed through the room. “I reckon it'd make more sense to have the fleet pound that thang instead of us going in there and getting them all riled up.”
“I mentioned that to TAT, but she seems pretty confident in the surprising weakness the egg heads found.” Advancing the presentation to a close up tactical view of the ship’s bow Jeff paused the screen. “At this point right here,” he gestured as a targeting reticle encircled a fine point on the display, “is what appears to be a massive energy focal point. They figure if we can get a nuke down there it’ll start a chain reaction and destroy the ship.”
“So what you’re saying,” Curtis snorted, “is this thing has a weakness like the fucking Death Star!"
“Death Star?” Alison said leaning forward to wrap her arms about Curtis’ shoulder. “Jungle Man, you're going to have to show me this movie.”
“Maybe if you spent spend less time on your back you wouldn't be holding up this briefing with retarded questions,” someone shouted across the room.
“Come say that to my face FLOB,” she shouted jumping to her feet, “and you'll be spending a whole lot of time on your back with the pecker checker!”
The room erupted in laughter and catcalls at the exchange. And Jason, speaking up to be heard over the ruckus, didn't sound too pleased with the idea. “So how the hell do they expect us to do that? That bitch is buried in the middle of their fleet! And that’s one killing field I sure as shit ain't sticking my neck out to go through. They think we're gonna just punch the red line and get ourselves killed?”
“Sadly Gunsmoke,” Jeff said soberly, “that's exactly what they expect us to do.”
“That's horse shit,” the gruff pilot complained before lighting a cigarette.
“You're telling me,” Jeff muttered under his breath. Turning back to the screen, advanced the presentation and a detailed chart of the Drac location materialized. “Here,” Jeff continued, “are the scattered remains of Prokuon. An advance force will jump in on the enemy’s flank and feign a pincer attack. Once they have the Drac sufficiently interested Victoria and a small group of support craft will follow jumping into close proximity to this new asteroid field. With luck, the Drac will be too deeply engaged in protecting their flanks they won’t notice our arrival. Our razors will launch moments after emerging from the SLD jump, weave through the bramble and hopefully slip through the middle of the Drac fleet and deliver our package.”
Clicking off the monitor Jeff turned up the overhead lights back up and leaned on the podium directing his full attention back to the obviously distraught pilots. “Due to the risky nature of this mission, I can’t in good conscious order any of you to go. This will be a volunteer only operation, and I’m taking the first shot.”
For a long moment, the only sound that answered him was the creek of chairs and the low rumble of the ships engines. Sighing, Curtis stood crossing his arms. A look of concentration filled his eyes as they stared intently at Jeff. “Well now,” he said, “I can’t let you have all the fun. Count me in Commander Skywalker.”
“I go where the jungle man goes,” Alison was quick to add standing in turn. Before long, even Jason agreed, not wanting to be showed up by the promiscuous floozy and including a good-natured wink at the squadron's harlot.
CHAPTER 32:
CATASTROPHE
The bridge of the Victoria was a flurry of activity; the crew anxiously preparing for the coming battle. Captain Styles, sitting rigidly in the command chair, wore a disgruntled frown as reports from the advance force slowly rolled in. Cupping his chin while studying the tactical information displayed on the bridge monitor, he caught himself rapidly tapping a finger on the chairs arm. Willing himself to stop the agitated gesture, he attempted to project an air of confidence. “Status,” he called out in a firm voice.
“The Lexington is reporting they’ve got the Drac’s attention,” Schwartz announced. “They appear to have committed to setting a defensive perimeter around the target and are taking heavy abuse.”
“What about our arrival coordinates?”
“Hard to tell through the traffic Sir. Lexington’s Skipper thinks there’s sparse activity near the insertion point and they’re about as ready as they’re going to be.”
“Very well,” Styles grunted before turning to Emily. “Lieutenant Ranson, how about our strike force?”
“Commander Grant and his team are in the tubes and ready Sir.”
“It’s now or never,” he muttered under his breath. “Commander Thomas, start the countdown.”
“Aye-aye Captain,” Kami answered in a measured and clipped tone. “Mister Flores, fire-up the SLD, set the clock at one minute. Mister Schwartz, send to escort, prepare for SLD jump. Gunboats first, assume crescent cover formation; clock set T minus one minute.” As her orders were being carried out, Kami leaned over, resting a hand on the command chairs arm. In a low voice so as not to be overheard she said, “Well, moment of truth. Are you sure this is the right decision?”
“Getting cold feet?” Styles asked raising an eyebrow at her. “You seemed pretty confident in the plan yesterday.”
“I was referring to allowing Commander Grant to personally lead the attack.”
Styles harrumphed at the comment. “I thought we discussed this already,” he said watching her reaction from the corner of his eye. “We have no time to second guess ourselves now Commander; we’re committed.”
“Yes Sir,” she said surprisingly meekly after her all too recent opposition to letting Jeff spearhead this assault. Straightening, Kami once again began barking orders about the bridge; the deck plates began their familiar reverberation as the ships massive engines approached full power. Outside the viewscreen, Victoria's collection of escort ships moved into position before her bow. As the countdown reached ten seconds, the flotilla of support craft quickly began winking out in sparkling flashes and she called out, “Make the announcement.”
In the Blink of an Eye Page 33
