by Scot McAtee
Chapter 5
DISCOVERIES || Chapter 5
||O'Falen||
Commandant’s Log supplemental:
Due to the recent attacks on the UHR/Terrhodian border, RNS Longsword has, under my order, began patrols of the UHR side of the interstellar border. Our current route will bring us to the colony of Nouvelle France in about 2 days at lower FTL speeds.
“Commandant O’ Falen, we’re picking up an unidentified radio signal about forty clicks, galactic north,” Longsword’s tactical officer announced.
“Drop us below FTL, then conduct a full long range scan, ensign,” Taersk beat me to the punch.
“Aye, sir. Long range scans underway.”the tactical officer continued, “Captain, Commandant, sirs, the signal is getting stronger; long range sensors have detected an unknown energy signature, relative power and energy signature match to Terrhodian Spearhead class cruisers. Switch to yellow alert, Captain?”
There was a reason Taersk was captain of this ship. Orosco and Verez had made a good choice in him. I almost felt sorry for his family. He wouldn't have shoreleave until
"Confirmed, Ensign, lay in an intercept course." and then into the shipwide comm. reciever "Attention all crew, this is the Captain, Unidentified contact on the edge of our sensor range, be ready to buckle up things might get hairy very quickly. Gun crews report to action stations, Ship is at yellow alert until further notice, all recreational facilities are closed, all nonoperations crew report to quarters."
"Captain, ship is at the edge of visual range," Daniel Phillipson was Longsword's tactical officer, I was almost impressed with his reaction time. "Approaching edge of weapons range in thirty seconds."
"Get the ship on the main screen, do we have any external cameras that can give us a look, I want to see what those snakes are throwing at us." I finally chipped in, hovering over the nearest tactical screen wasn't the best view for a potential threat
"Aye, Sir, missiles locked on to the unidentified ship. Mass driver guns awaiting your orders." The sihlouette on the screen was reminiscent of a Terrhodian Fang class destroyer.
"Open Fire!" Taersk gave the word. Our first missiles and mass driver slugs were already on there way when I realized that it wasn't Terrhodian, whatever it was.
"Hold your Fire, Hold Fire, Disarm those warheads!" The slugs had already hit home, the ship returned fire with some kind of weapon that fired an arc of something. Shields held after a barrage of those rounds.
"Sir, We're being hailed!" Robertson, our comm. officer responded. It came closer and we got our first good look at the ship.
It was about two tenths the size of RNS Longsword, its weapons systems was like a 21st century toy pellet gun compared to Longsword’s weapons. I realized that I had almost ordered the destuction of an exploration cruiser.
“Sir, translator is active,” the comm. officer reported.
An image filled the screen of what looked like a clothed, bi-pedal Grey hound just shorter than the 5'9" commanding officer of this ship. The simulated voice began as I saw sparks
“I am James D. O’ Falen,” I said rising out of the command chair, “Chief Commandant of the United Human Republic’s Naval Corps. This is the bridge crew of the Republic Naval Ship Longsword. As your weapons stand no chance against ours, and as I don’t want to start another war, mayhap you forgive us for our less than warm reception. The Orion Spur is a harsh mistress, and war doesn't make it much better.”
These dogs were kniving, to say the least.
“Alright, we will arrange a transfer of our star charts onto your ship’s computer. In the meantime, we need to leave here. Without an escort, our ships are sitting ducks for the Terrhodian Imperial Navy.”
“Yeah, we didn’t get along too well. They did contact us during their own attack on our home system.”
“That is a truth that I realized the moment I met their CO, Lord Capta-” Phillipson interrupted before I could finish.
“Sir, two Terrhodian battlecruisers on approach, Trident Class, ETA five minutes. 2 new contacts, Terrhodian Gladius Frigates, they're right on top of us. Brace for impact!!!”
“Red Alert, Shields up. All Crew, report to action stations, Marines, prepare to repel boarders.” I finished the conversation with the Centauri captain, “You need to head to these coordinates and dock with Port D’Orleans, a RNC Starbase. Retransmit the signal we're about to send you once you arrive. Now GO! Your ship doesn’t need to get caught in the crossfire!
The ship shook as boarding pods met with our hull. They had caught us with our pants down, boarders had made it onto Longsword.
"Captain, we may need to take some measures to ensure the Commandant's safety, Terrhodian marines are heading for his quarters." Phillipson noted.
"Phillipson's right, sir. We can't risk you, you have at least some sort of operational knowledge on just about every op the UHR is planning, if they capture you..." What he implied didn't settle me any more than firing on a ship that was so far inferior to our own.
After RNS Longsword dealt with the two Trident class birds and their support frigates, we went at maximum FTL speed to New France. We arrived in about two hours and joined with the rest of Delta Fleet. Once there, we found out that the most famous UHR Diplomat, Jean de Lis had negotiated a temporary alliance, transfer of information and a trade route to one of the Centauri colonies. That guy is a miracle worker if I’ve ever seen one. Seriously, the man has a way with words. If I weren’t a one of the greater military minds of my time, I’d like to meet him in a debate.
“Commandant O’Falen, sir, we are getting an ESC1 request from Port D’Orleans, Admiral Garren’s on the other end.” A Lt. Petty Officer Phillipson, Longsword’s comm. officer began, “He wishes to speak directly to you.”
“I’ll take it in the briefing room.” After a few steps and the closing of the automatic doors, “What is it Garren?” I braced myself for his Breton accent.
“Sir, our stellar cartographers have located something on those starcharts. We have good reason to believe that it is the location of the Terrhodian Homeworld. Although, sir, we aren’t entirely sure that the charts are up to date.
“Apparently, the Centauri Commerce Guild is currently carrying out resupply missions with several of the Terrhodian colonies around the Imperium. I believe that their contacting us could very well endanger their stake in the interstellar community. That is, of course, if the Terrhodians aren’t eliminated first.”
“Indeed then, Commodore Garren, I will convene with high command and we will make a decision, O’Falen out.”
I lied. I was not going to pass up on the chance of finding and attacking the Terrhodians’ capital. I went to the computer console and activated the comm. sender to a 9.81 gHz frequency.
“Secure the room, authorization 139-Delta-0, Tier Zero, no recording, begin transmission. O’Falen to RNS Jefferson III, we’ve got the location of the TE capital. Ready Omicron Fleet for action, Admiral Daniels. The clock is running.”
||Upsilion||
“Lord Captain, Prelate Viceroy, your shuttle is ready.” one of my servant’s aboard the station noted. Laurautrix waited until we were on the shuttle to speak to me.
“Psius, we must act soon, the public is actually supporting Terronias now that you are winning the war, it won’t be long until the Council will as well.”
“My brother, we may have to wait for our prize, but that will make it all the sweeter to claim. I have a bit of work to do for my personal gain, not ours.” We both knew that we had to perform a bit of sabotage to Terronias’s image in order to achieve our goal. I knew what had to be done, as we passed the hulking masses of what would be the new Imperial class flagships.
AH, GLORIOUS POLITICKING
||O'Falen||
Commandant’s Log: Supplemental
RNS Longsword has returned to the Terra orbital yard for retrofitting of its weapons systems. This retrofit marks the beginning of a T2 clea
rance requirement for all crew onboard. During the week or so that they are upgrading the weapons, I will be attending and speaking at the first convening of the Senate since the war began.
I stared out the shuttle window as it flew over Old Washington. So much history in one city, it’s hard to believe. That was where our 130-year-old Republic was formed, in the halls of a building that a hundred years before that held bickering bureaucrats who only wanted to advance their own agendas. I wish we had come away from that.
Then we entered the skies of New Washington, at first, the provisional, and eventually permanent, capital of the UHR; that was decided in the Planetary Civil War. I dreaded what was on the landing pad of the Senate building. Almost as much as I hated what was inside
I was “greeted” by a horde of photographers and newscasters wanting an exclusive interview with the, quote, “Hero of the UHR.” Luckily for me a few guards set a perimeter so that the paparazzi would have to keep its distance.
I entered the Senate chambers just in time to hear the opening remarks of Senator Lucas DiArros.
“Gentlemen and Ladies of the UHR Senate, I speak to you on behalf of those who are suffering due to this war. My constituents, the citizens of Mediterrania, are being subjected to deprival of necessary government funds for assistance with education, medical care, and welfare programs.
“I direct your attention to the central screen; this currently shows that since the war began, EIGHT emergency Civilian funds have been emptied by none other than the Navy.” Now he was just lying to get under the skin of Navy supporters, I retaliated for all of them
“Those dollars were diverted into a single fund by a Level ONE executive order, not by any Navy money handlers, as you suggest Senator DiArros. Get your facts straight!”
“The Table does not recognize the representatives of the Navy. Go on, Senator.”
“My fellow Senators, I am a firm supporter of, and I know most of you are as well, negotiations in the resolution of conflict; especially when it benefits my constituents. I believe it is high time that we put our ideals into action. I move to begin peace talks with the Terrhodian Empire.” He sat down, acting as if the bomb he dropped didn’t even exist. The senate was in an uproar,
“Talk, with those snakes?!”
“Peace? when they still hold Aldarris!?”
“ORDER, ORDER!! Noted, there will be a vote to decide whether or not to begin peace talks, I said ORDER!!!” The current Senate Overseer, Richard Mars, said, “At the end of today’s session. The Table now recognizes the Chief Commandant of the RNC, James Daniel O’Falen.”
“Thank you, Overseer. Senator Diarros, before I begin, I would like to tell you that you can’t negotiate with snakes that will shoot you when you come bearing the olive branch. Ladies and Gentlemen of the Honored UHR Senate, I come to you in the public’s greatest hour of need. Without our defenses, I admit, there would be no need for UHR military funding, quite obvious, no? But I offer this as well, without our defenses, the constituents that Mr. DiArros speaks of would be dead. Not even two whole weeks ago our ships and soldiers successfully defended his home planet and the people on it. It was no small feat. Drone troops numbering in the hundreds of thousands are rather hard to beat with a garrison of four thousand clone marines.”
“But Commandant O’Falen, could they not have been defeated with an orbital barrage?” Diarro spat
“Senator Diarros…” Mars scolded
“Overseer Mars, I welcome that question. I'll Be frank with you Lucas. No, Firstly, not without so much collateral damage that the colony would have been rendered uninhabitable for decades. Secondly, I would never glass a planet, nor would I order someone to when human colonists are on the planet. While planetside I personally saw the deaths of twenty marines, our doctors are good, but when you take a plasma blast square to the sternum, there's not much to be done; those men give up everything in order for you sit here.
"This is the first major war we've had with a nonhuman faction. We are easily facing an enemy who will fight for their culture. The gentle days of trying to appease insurrectionists is over. The United Human Republic's Navy is the only thing standing between humanity and its demise. I would think that those who funded the military would have some regard for the men who served them."
“I ask you to remember the fallen men and women who gave their lives to defend you and your right to debate whether or not to begin peace talks. I also ask you to remember the tragedy at Titan, where you, the UHR Senate, lost Amanda Rhodes. I, for one, remember Titan, and Aldarris, and every time the Terrhodians have massacred my soldiers, your soldiers, our soldiers, who have died defending you, and if you don’t have the decency..." I trailed off. “then whatever god that exists have mercy on your soul
“The RNC fights not because it wants to, but to defend humanity and all that that word stands for, to avenge and honor those who have given us our freedom to act in our best interests. I ask of you one last thing, choose. Choose your fate now. We either continue this war for the fallen, or we sacrifice those things that they held dear enough to die for and let their deaths mean nothing! On behalf of the representatives of the Navy, I move not to consider peace talks, unless initiated by the Terrhodians.”
I walked out of the chambers and the building and boarded my shuttle.
||Lord Captain||
Onboard ISV Sovereign, I paced the halls outside of the bridge. I, for the first time in my memory, was nervous; ISV Conquest, Imperial, and Sovereign were currently on an attempt to take out the New Cuba penal colony. ISV Conquest was about thirty minutes ahead of us. ISV Imperial was approximately even with us on our course.
“Lord Captain Upsilion, we have reached the colony,” the captain of Sovereign informed me. I hoped that this would work. “The human station has begun firing a barrage of missiles on ISV Conquest.” I couldn’t believe it. Things were actually going quite well, according. The humans, drole as ever, were attacking the new Imperial class ship, a class so named because of its creator and designer, Terronias II, current Imperator of the Terrhodian people. The ships were an embodiment of his ruling ability. Well planned, but, when push comes to shove, weak…
“Tactical report on the Conquest, captain!”
“Indeed, sir. No…this...this can’t be possible. The vessel is being obliterated. Its shields aren’t working, and its weapons are nonoperational. It is the same onboard the Imperial.”
I acted scared. Then, I ordered a full retreat.
“Fall back to the border, maximum velocity.” This, as most of my plans do, worked without fail. The failed attack would reflect on Terronias badly. Eventually, Laurautrix would succeed him, and I would take Laurautrix’s place.
||Amanda Rhodes||
Occasionally, I indulge myself with food, but at about 8 in the morning I was ravenous. After a half-gallon of ice cream drowned in chocolate and caramel syrup and a ring at the doorbell, I grudgingly turned off the television, got up and answered the door.
“Amanda, my dear child, Are you alright? I heard about your terrible experience on Titan, we hadn’t heard from you since the wedding,” began my overbearing mother, Selena Collins, as she came into the living room. “Tyra told us all about it.” I looked outside and saw my dad, Xander Collins, carrying up a few boxes marked “Republic Postal Service.”
“Thanks for carrying my stuff, Dad,” I said
“It’s nothing, Amanda.” My dad responded, “You were such a blessing to us, I could only help return the blessing back to you.”
“Speaking of blessings, Amanda, you look rather big for fifteen weeks along. You also ordered much more than I did when I was pregnant with you or Tyra. Is there anything that you need to tell us?” I knew they knew, so, I told them
“Mom, Dad, I’m going to have twins.”
“O darling, we will stay here with you for the rest of it…”
“Dear, you’re being overbear
ing,” he noticed the white elephant in the room, “I don’t think Amanda wants us here the entire time,” my father said as he leaned over to hug me, “we will stay planet-side, just a call away, M.” I hated it when he used my pet name.
“Thanks, Daddy.” I dealt one back to him
“Don’t think you’re off the hook that easily, though, I want to know who the father is.” There was my dad’s catch. There always was a catch with him. I could go out, as long as I was home by midnight. I could date, as long as he got to have a talk with the “lucky man.”
“Dad, I honestly have no idea who their father is. When I find out, you’ll be the first to know.”
“There’s my little girl, doing as she’s asked.”
“Amanda, I have one stipulation: you must phone us every week.” My mom put in her two cents, one of her little mannerisms. I thank god that I don't have it.
“Alright, Mom, Dad, I’ll see you later.”
After they had left I thought about all of the friends I hadn’t seen since college. I was a London Orbital University Alumnus, go Lou’s; I hate to say it but we had a rather crappy mascot. I made a few calls and planned an impromptu reunion. This was going to be good. Friends, drinks, good times. This was going to be really good.
||O'Falen||
COMMANDANT’S LOG: SD 2.23302-18
The UHR’s immediate strike force, Delta Fleet’s Alpha Strike, is currently making a b-line for a small colony on the Terrhodian side of our interstellar border. It is the colony of Nova Rhodia, believed to be a small outpost with minimal defenses; our problem will be the tail we generate once we cross the border. This is the first of a series of incursions into Terrhodian space that will be made by Delta Fleet.
“Commandant O’Falen, Athens and Churchill are the last of the task force to check in, the rest of the group has sent its ETA to your console at the command chair." Taersk paged me over the comm.
Taersk was punctual. That was usually the norm for officers who wanted to lead ships and command fleets. Oddly enough though, he has made it clear that he doesn’t want a promotion beyond the rank of captain. He could make so much farther if he wanted to.
“Alright, Captain, I’ll be out in a minute.”
After the formalities of my entering the bridge were through, I went on fleet comm. “Attention, Alpha Strike. We should be crossing the border shortly, bring up your shields a few seconds before you drop below FTL. We might generate a tail. Fleet switch to yellow alert”
“Border cross in 10...5…4…3…2…1.”
“ETA to target system. Fleet switch to red alert, bring up shields at your discretion.”
“15 seconds, 10……5…4…3…2…1…Helm, switch to sublight engines.” We were at the edge of the system, “Sir, no tailing ships detected on any sensor ranges. Two, no, three enemy battlecruisers in orbit of the colony, Trident Class, acompanied by 2 small arms frigates, most likely flak vessels. advise Athens to post pone fighter launch untill we've dealt with those flak frigates”
“All crew to Action stations. O’Falen to all UHR vessels, engage the enemy selectively, Longsword to Benjamin Harrison, 5 second burst FTL Engines, on my mark. We need to get right in the middle of the enemy fleet, stir them up.”
“Aye, sir, awaiting your mark.”
“Mark!”
The five second FTL burst wasn’t exactly settling to one’s stomach but, tactically, it was worth it. The enemy birds began to move towards the fleet and we were right behind them. After a quarter turn and two broadsides later, we had ripped the enemy birds to shreds.
Now we had to deal with the defense satellites and their plasma arc-lasers, RNS Jupiter, one of the Panama-class battlecruisers in the group, led the charge, her shields weren’t at full when she advanced. An uncorrected mistake made by her roughly green captain, George Varesse.
“Sir, Jupiter is being hit by the defenses hard, she may not make it. Its shields are at 35% and falling…Jupiter’s shields are down. Helm, bring us between Jupiter and one of the satellites, we need to give them some shielding.”
Our helmsman, coincidentally named Marcus Helm answered, “Aye, sir.”
We were too late. Jupiter had already taken damage to its engine column. Its reactor had with no doubt been hit. If it wasn’t already critical, then it would be after the next one.
“Jupiter to fleet, our reactor has taken serious damage, our fuel intake line has been jammed, if we go and there are some ships around us, those ships are as good as dead. Move at least 5 clicks away from us; Longsword, we will be launching rescue boats. Be ready to pick them up”
After the explosion of Jupiter, the fleet took out what remained of the orbital colonial defenses, next would be the hard part: landing troops and getting them within striking distance of the cities planet-side. The task force had a complement of two L-7 landing ships
“Zag, I am leading the strike force on the main city. You and your team will be going with me.” I readied my combat suit, ancient compared to the marine armor of the clones.
“Sir, with all due respect, you can’t go into the combat zone; it is way too dangerous. Your armor is old as all get out. The planet has a nitrogen-deuterium atmosphere, little to no oxygen present; your suit may not be able to get any O2 from the atmosphere. Our Haz-Op suits have oxygen tanks on the back and can take a beating. Yours is a relic of a war between human colonies, all with nitrogen-oxygen atmospheres.”
“Alright, get me some new armor. And while you’re at it, get me a decent side-arm too.” He didn't show back up and I was stuck on the bridge while they conducted the op.
The cities fell one by one as the individual clone insert teams took down the atmosphere shields and the planet’s population was eradicated. The massive explosions caused by the ruptured domes could be seen from Longsword's orbit over New Norfolk. This was indeed a war.
FOR REASONS UNKNOWN
||Psius||
“Psius, the Council is on the brink, we will soon have the victory we desire.” Laurautrix greeted me with a good attitude today. This wasn’t usual for him. But his good news was bogged down with one fact.
“Also, about our Centauri…friends,” he paused, “They have made contact with the humans, add to that they have begun trade with the enemy. The Council will move to stay with them; we must go to Terronias himself in order to take action against them.”
“Kiraan, Have good humor, our victory is a short time away, and now that we are so close let us celebrate with a drink…
And we did, a round of drinks for the entire bar onboard the station
We went to Terronias’s “office.” If one wanted to call it that. It was really more of an executive suite. The Centauri problem was truly a dilemma of proportions the empire had never seen before, at least not during Terronias’s reign. We had to cause distrust about humanity. However, that was not the only option…
“Laurautrix, you can go first. I’ll break the bad news,” I said. Now I just had to tell Terronias that our trade partners were doing business with our enemies. This was indeed a delicate situation. “Your Majesty, It is an honor to speak with you……
“Psius, do not test my patience… The council, they are already against me. I need to change my image fast. You two are going to help me in these efforts. We just lost the colony of Nova Rhodia. Communications ceased only two hours ago, meaning they are just getting their defenses up.”
“Sire, we are here to speak of our Centauri trade partners… They are no longer just ours,”
“So they are now trading with the Ratorien Protectorate, I knew that our mutual connection would prove of worth.”
“They are trading with the UHR.” Now the explosion. Terronias was never very secure, any threat he saw, he dealt with quickly.
“They are WHAT?” He went ballistic. “They need to be eliminated, NOW”
“At your will, Sire, it shall be done.”
||Taersk||
/> SHIPS LOG: RNS LONGSWORD
SD: 2.23302-26
We are currently in orbit of the newly acquired military outpost, New Norfolk, formerly Nova Rhodia. We are currently monitoring TE military channels for signs of a counter-attack.
Documented by Michael E. Taersk
“Captain, we have detected a massive subspace distortion near the hot zone.” Commander Rexian reported, “Should we switch to yellow alert, sir?”
“Standby on that yellow alert, Commander! give it a few minutes!”
We couldn’t risk the entire outpost on New Norfolk by bringing the battle-group with us to investigate. This was a situation that demanded quick action. The commandant was asleep. It is said that these are times that try men’s souls, not just.
“Copy that Athens, Longsword will investigate, send a relay of the message to Darevus, and tell them to ready a strike-force to be called into action on the commandant’s order.” I gave the order. “Helm, lay in a course for the Centauri home-world.”
“Will be done, sir.”
“General Quarters to Red Alert, Standby for battle stations”
“Sir, course laid in, Awaiting jump orders."
“The word is given, max FTL, let’s jump.”
||O'Falen||
I awoke to the walls shuddering, and the sound of mass-driver guns firing. I looked into the hall; the red lights were flaring every two seconds. I had a uniform to put on.
“Situation, Captain.”
“Commandant O’Falen, good morning. As you can clearly see, we are under attack, but we are here because the Centauris issued a distress call that their homeworld was under assault. . It’s an entire Terrhodian battle-fleet. We are currently leading the defense, hidden from a majority of the enemy by a gas giant’s magnetic field. We have the tactical advantage, but I’m not sure for how long.”
“Thank you Captain. Helm, let’s show ourselves, Tactical, all weapons and shields up and ready to go. Captain, I assume that you had Delta Fleet ready a battle group, let’s call them in.”
“I sent the message two minutes ago, sir.” I say, this kid is good.
“Echo what is your compliment?”
“Copy, strike team. We’ll leave a few ships for you to take care of.”
"Five Gladius Frigates, they're rippling missiles and boarding pods." Phillipson reported.
"Point defense Weapons, take out those pods.
Longsword ripped through the enemy support vessels like a hot knife through butter. Then we got to the capital ships.
“Commandant O’Falen, two RNC contacts entering the field. RNS Mercury and Luna, are reporting in as announced…Wait a second, Luna has taken excessive plasma damage to their dorsal shields. They're are buckling…”
“Put it on the side screen. Lieutenant Helm, plot intercept course and engage at maximum sublight speed. Tactical, asess targets and engage as necessary.”
“Commandant O’Falen, Strike Team Echo has arrived.” Taersk announced, “They are currently on the far side of the field. Should we rally the fleet?”
“Yes, inform them to gather around Mercury and Luna.”
“Mercury, defend Luna until the Santa Maria arrives to retrieve her crew, extend your shields if you need to.”
“Copy, Santa Maria, Phillipson, shield status,”
“Sir, shields are at 78%.” Phillipson then gasped, “Sir, the Terrhodian flagship has been identified. It is bombing cities on the planet with other siege vessels, their shields are holding at about 59% of maximum. Centauri Defense net is broadcasting a secondary distress signal, on main audio channel.”
“Helm, Lay in an intercept course of the flagship, we’re ending this,” Taersk took charge. “Commandant O’Falen, ready the Lexington, I want to try something.”
“Alright, you two secondaries, take the helm and comm. stations. Helm, Robertson, you’re with me, Report to the shuttle bay in 3 minutes. From there we’ll launch Longsword’s Officer’s shuttle. Taersk, I’m counting on you to cover me.”
“Negative, Mercury, keep covering the Luna…” The bridge doors shut behind me. We trekked through the seemingly endless halls down to the emergency shuttle-bay, and then we saw the yacht, Lexington, in the bay. Now I had to put to use the pilot’s skills I learned at the academy, and were reinforced during the Aldarrian War. It was all too easy.
“Lexington-actual to Longsword-actual, we are currently ready to take off. We are awaiting your clearance.”
We fired up the shuttle’s thrusters and extended the engine supports after we left the shuttle-bay.
“Alright, Longsword, You got us out here, what do you want?”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say that you were about to send us on a suicide mission.”
“Sir, a wing of NR-43 Night-hawk fighters has broken off to assist us.” Robertson reported
“Copy, Grey-One, your help is appreciated. We’re heading in for a bit of agitation of ISV Conquest II. Robertson, Thrusters at maximum. Punch it.”
That was the last thing I remember clearly about the battle of Centauri-Alpha. I woke up in Longsword’s medical bay, confused, I asked where Robertson and Helm were, Lt. Colonel Kara Verix, Longsword’s Chief medical officer, answered
“Look for yourself, sir.” I saw the sedated David Robertson and the charred body of Marcus Helm. She went on to explain that a Terrhodian Stinger-Class Escort put a disruptor blast through the Lexington’s mid-section. Robertson was lucky to survive, he had experienced near asphyxiation in the leaking cabin of the shuttle. I looked over at a charred bronze-colored suit, then I recognized my old fighter squad symbol the “RED CREW” emblem on the shoulder. The suit had several tears in the legs. I then realized that Helm, Robertson and I weren’t the only casualties.
“Verix, I need a tablet.”
“Ensign Louis, get the Chief Commandant a tablet.”
When I looked at *our* casualty report I was damned astonished, 38 dead, 5 wounded. I looked at the enemy casualty estimates, somewhere in the ballpark of 10,500 dead, no wounded. The Centauri casualties were the worst, some 120,000 military dead, over 75,000 civilians dead or wounded. Garren was right. The Centauri Alliance was put in danger by our partnership. I would not have their blood on my hands, we had to either cut the alliance, or we had to give them some big guns. I was going to give them the guns.
A couple days into my recovery, I was transferred onto Republic Medical ship Le Favre to finish my recovery and eventually head back to the RNC-Command orbital station in the Sol system, as per the request of Captain Taersk and Commandant Sado. I would look forward to the time I would be able to have with my son, John. Don’t get me wrong, I love the life on the frontlines, but everyone needs some r’n’r, these few weeks would be a grand time heading home, to my old stomping grounds on Earth, in the town of Fairifax, North Dakota.
||Amanda||
I welcomed in the D.J. at about eight-thirty, the caterers and the first few guests arrived at nine, and one of my old friends, Cameron Allinson, arrived soon after the party really got underway.
“Amanda, where the heck have you been? Search parties stopped going to Titan in December of last year.” He asked. The fast techno music drowned out whoever else I was talking to.
“I took a short tour of duty aboard RNS Falchion. I served as a medical assistant. But don’t worry, have fun, it’s a party.” And have fun I did. I got wasted out of my mind, then ended up sitting on the couch until 3 a.m. I couldn’t hold my drinks any longer. I went up with my videophone in the bathroom. I used my security clearance to get to Longsword, Taersk’s second lieutenant told me about Centauri-Alpha and how James was on RMS Le Favre. I was patched in to Le Favre’s comm. network.
||O'Falen||
I was woken up by a personal comm. message at 3 a.m., who in the world is up at 3 a.m.?
“What in the name of all things holy… Amanda, what’s wrong?...What do you mean you’re sick?...Ne
w Britain, I thought you were on Falchion ?... I’ll be coming in a few hours.” I went to the comm. panel and paged the bridge. Medical ships didn’t have an integrated intercom system. This was technology the Navy was using back in the 2100’s.
“O’Falen to Bridge, We need to jump to New Britain.” I heard a familiar voice but I was too tired to recognize it.
“No can do, sir, we are on assignment to assist in the recovery for Centauri-Alpha.” I put on an acceptable facsimile of a uniform, no rank bullets or stripes.
When I walked onto the bridge, I was surprised. The Le Favre’s captain was Maria Fox, the former Mrs. James O’Falen and mother of my only son, Jonathan Michael O'Falen. It sufices to say that after my promotion to the post of Chief Commandant at the end of the Aldarrian war, the divorce was horrid. I was stripped of all of my non-naval belongings of any monetary worth. Then she won the custody fight for Jon, another slap in my face.
I gave the awestruck bridge crew the “at ease” nod and they began applause. All accept one, Captain Maria Fox. She said through a smug grin,
“Commandant O’Falen, sir, how can the crew of the Le Favre assist you?”
“You all can assist me by carrying out my original orders, jump to New Britain.”
“James, you have our respect, but as you should know, the Republican medical service isn’t under your authority. Furthermore the Le Favre is on an emergency assignment in accordance with the Treaty of Orleans. If we abandon this planet, as we are the sole medical ship here, we would be breaking treaty.”
“The Naval vessels in orbit here can just as easily…
“Sir, I am under a mandate from the President himself. I know that you and I have rocky relations, and I know you don’t much care for the president. But for the love of all things holy you can’t order us to do anything, Rhodes has covered your sorry…” a quick suppression of an insult, “for the past six months for you overstepping your boundaries, you are lucky the Senate doesn’t have your head on a silver platter already. On this matter, I will not budge. I will not give ground here, sir.”
“Captain, we are being hailed. It’s the Allegiance, ma’am, the Centauri flagship.”
“Put them on, Lieutenant.”
“Republican Medical ship Le Favre we request, under the Treaty of Orleans’s Military Ordinance Agreement, escort to a UHR shipyard.” The Centauri captain began
“I am in no such position to authorize that.”
“You may not be Captain Fox, however, Chief Commandant James O’Falen is.” The entire room looked at me. I guess I wasn’t the only one who thought that the Centauri interstellar position would’ve been compromised.
“Alright, you’ll have an escort once we get into UHR territory. I have a personal favor to ask though. I need transport to New Britain from there you can go into Farragut Orbital yard. Are we agreed?” I inquired
“Indeed, we will transport from these coordinates in two minutes.”
When on the vessel I went to the bridge, on the way, I met the captain of the vessel.
“Commandant O’Falen, I represent the crew of the Centauri Defense Service Vessel Allegiance, we stand ready to assist you provided you follow through on your end. You already know Admiral Pneumenous former captain of A-C-172.”
“Excuse me, but, how do you know English, captain?” I asked astonished at the fluency, the smoothness. It seemed as though they had spoken it all of their lives.
“We comprehend all of Earth’s well-spoken languages. English is only one of the, what is your word for it, tongues that we speak. We have translators that are well versed in Rhoda and all seven dialects of Raiorse. When your race primarily trades to hold its interstellar position, you must know these things.”
“I’m sorry you lost me at ‘Rhoda’. It’s an astonishing feat in itself that you know the three major Terran languages, English, Spanish, and Chinese, but, Rhoda? What is that,”
“The language of the Terrhodian Empire, Commandant--”
“And how does everyone have a comprehensive knowledge of English?”
“Firstly, not everyone knows it, but our civilization learned it from transmissions that we have on file in one of our museums on the planet, but now we really must be moving to your shipyard, the Alpha Council insists that in order to prevent another incident like the one earlier this week, we must have a ship outfitted with UHR weapons in about 2 months, we need to be moving now.” The ship’s captain finished
“Commandant O’Falen, welcome to the bridge of CDSV Allegiance” Pneumenous began, “It is an honor to have you aboard. Beta Sirric, charcion err.”
“What did he say?” I asked. I saw star-lines replace the few hundred thousand visible stars.
“I said, ‘engage course, Commander Sirric.’ We may be allies, but most of our low ranking officers don’t know your Terran languages. I apologize for that. I’m sure that the captain and I would be glad to show you to engineering. You see, our ships have very inefficient interstellar drives, and well, we were wondering if you knew any way to…”
“I’ll do what I can Admiral, but we won’t be able to do much until we reach Farragut Yard.”
“Alpha-Taan Pneumenous, Darran sa nochera, Raior”
“What did he just say?”
“We are followed by an enemy ship, your word for their race would be Raortien; they have powered up their weapons. Barrach Iannon! You might want to hold onto something, Commandant O’Falen.”
