by S. H. Jucha
“Alex, that’s something I don’t have control over,” Harold protested.
“Then you can tell those who do handle the appointments that New Terra risks abrogating our agreement by refusing to abide by this demand,” Alex replied, as he stood.
In one movement, the Omnians swept from the room, Alain first, Alex next, followed by Tatia and Julien, and Étienne last.
“They move like … like an integrated machine,” Harold said, staring open-mouthed at the door. “And I didn’t call for an aide to escort them out,” he muttered.
To Harold’s discomfort, Maria was laughing.
“Might I remind you, Maria, you’re laughing at your president,” Harold said, a little miffed.
“Then fire me, Harold, if you can’t take it,” Maria shot back, assuming a stern visage. “I tried to tell you, and all you could do is explain your political situation, as if I’ve never held the presidency. What I’ve done that you’ve never done is work with Alex and the Méridiens, then the Harakens, and now the Omnians. I understand them, but I seem to have to continually teach the individuals who hold this office about their natures.
“Alex Racine wouldn’t break the accord; he needs us too much,” Harold said defiantly, trying to regain ground with Maria.
“Don’t you believe it,” Maria replied hotly. “Alex would drop us in a heartbeat if we refused his requests. What you’ve failed to understand, Harold, is that Tripping’s actions not only jeopardized our ships, he risked the lives of everyone in that squadron, and Alex won’t stand for that. And, one more thing, the Confederation is now on board with Alex. In a tremendous societal course change for them, they’re building warships, and they can launch a hundred for every one of ours. Alex doesn’t need us; we need him.”
* * *
Two days after making New Terra’s orbit, Captains Jagielski and Fillister sat together at a small table, facing five naval officers, who represented the Board of Inquiry.
“Before we begin, the Board must deal with a most unusual request,” Commodore Don Jacobsen, the Board’s presiding officer, said. “Mr. Alex Racine, please approach.”
Alex chose to stand beside the captains rather than take the position the commodore had indicated.
“Mr. Racine, the Board has received your request that you be allowed to be a witness for the captains,” Jacobsen announced. “This is a Board of Inquiry. We’re convened to hear the captains’ personal descriptions of the events surrounding the loss of the NT Geoffrey Orlan and ask them questions regarding their testimonies. This isn’t a trial, requiring witnesses. If we think that the captains have committed acts contrary to New Terra’s naval code of conduct, we’ll recommend that they’re held over for trial, at which time, your witness statements may be admitted.”
“I understand your procedures, Commodore Jacobsen,” Alex replied. “I’m present to ensure that the captains accurately relate the events that occurred at FYM-552.”
“Do you believe that Captains Jagielski and Fillister won’t be truthful regarding their statements to this Board, Mr. Racine?”
“Commodore, I believe they will relay the facts accurately. I’m here to ensure the Board has the proper perspective surrounding those facts.”
“Well, Mr. Racine, I regret to inform you that the only individual who may address the board, under those circumstances, is their senior officer, who, regretfully, is no longer with us.”
“And that’s why I’m here, Commodore,” Alex replied. “You’ve already misunderstood the conditions at FYM-552. The senior commander, during the conflict, wasn’t Admiral Tripping. It was Admiral Tachenko.”
“Then, under those conditions, Mr. Racine, the Board would accept Admiral Tachenko’s testimony.”
“And I’m her senior,” Alex replied, with a smile.
There were several asides between the commodore and the captains, who sat to the presiding officer’s left and right.
“It’s our understanding, Mr. Racine, that you hold no naval rank. Isn’t that correct?” Jacobsen asked.
“Essentially, I’m the fleet’s ultimate authority, Sers, especially as it relates to these captains, who operated in concert with my Trident squadron.”
“Please clarify that statement, Sir,” the senior officer said.
“The OS Tridents are owned by Omnia Ships, the stipends of officers and crew are paid by Omnia Ships, and I’m the majority shareholder of Omnia Ships.”
“Are you asking us to believe that you’ve raised and are operating a private Navy?” a Board captain asked.
“I’m not asking you, Ser, I’m telling you what’s true.”
At that moment, the doors of the Board of Inquiry opened. Harold Grumley and Maria Gonzalez walked through, approached the front spectator row, and took seats. Two of the president’s staffers had saved seats for them in a gallery otherwise packed with family members, supporters, detractors, reporters, and naval officers.
“President Grumley, the Board appreciates your attendance but hopes that you recognize that you have no official capacity during this inquiry,” Jacobsen said.
“I do, Commodore,” Harold replied.
“However, your timing is most apropos, Mr. President,” Jacobsen said. “Would you please clarify for the Board the circumstances under which New Terra has entered into the agreement to build Tridents?”
“Certainly, Commodore,” Harold replied. “The accord was signed with Omnia Ships, specifically with Alex Racine.”
“Not with the Omnian government?” a captain asked.
Maria stood to be recognized.
“Envoy Maria Gonzalez, the Board would welcome any clarifications you might offer,” Jacobsen said, a frown marking his forehead.
“Alex Racine owns the majority shares in Omnia Ships,” Maria replied. “The faux shell that is used to build Omnian ships and our Tridents was invented by his people and donated to him. Mr. Racine has assembled an incredible group of humans, SADEs, and physical assets. New Terra is benefitting from his generous sharing of technology that just might prove to be what saves humankind from the advance of the Nua’ll.”
“Thank you for that clarification, Envoy Gonzalez, as incredible as it sounds,” Jacobsen intoned, unnerved to have learned that his government was contracting with a private company for the vaunted warship technology. Jacobsen conferred with his other Board members until four heads were nodding in agreement.
“Mr. Racine, the Board recognizes your right to speak as the captains’ superior. Sergeant, a chair for Mr. Racine,” Jacobsen ordered.
“Here you are, Sir,” a female sergeant said. She had Tatia’s build and smoothly hauled a comfortable chair for him, unlike the ones the Trident captains sat on.
Alex accepted the chair and returned the sergeant’s generous smile with one of his own.
Jacobsen began with Alphons and requested his recall of the events. Alex listened intently to the recitation. In his implants were the key points of the encounter, compiled by Julien. Each point was detailed with coordinates, time, individuals, and linked to the relevant communications. For the most part, Alphons’ recall was fairly accurate.
When it was Bart’s turn, he missed a few important details but managed to deliver a solid account of the events. At the end of their stories, each captain announced his regret in not following the admiral’s lead, believing if he had, he might have changed the outcome and saved the Geoffrey Orlan.
The Board’s commodore and captains questioned the details of the stories for two hours.
; Tatia smirked at Julien, who smiled benevolently at her, as if he had only dared speak the truth.
“Mr. Racine, do you have anything you would like to add to clarify these accounts?” Jacobsen asked.
“Please don’t play that holo-vid,” Harold whispered so quietly that only Maria heard him.
Alex stood and said, “These are two fine captains, who made the right judgment that day, despite their survivor guilt. If they had followed Admiral Tripping, New Terra would have lost two more captains, two more crews, and two more warships.”
“This is your opinion, Mr. Racine?” a Board captain asked.
“Negative, Ser. I have produced detailed telemetry of the event for President Grumley and Envoy Gonzalez. For reasons of my own, I prefer not to share the information with this Board, but those two individuals will attest to what they witnessed in my presentation. The Nua’ll sphere drove at a portion of our squadron and deliberately self-detonated to take as much of the fleet with it as it could. The Admiral’s ship was in the direct path of that explosion. These two captains reversed course and saved their people.”
“Mr. Racine, that doesn’t answer the fundamental question of why Captains Jagielski and Fillister chose not to follow their admiral,” Jacobsen said.
“And that’s why I stand before this Board, Commodore. What the captains haven’t told you is that I ordered Captains Jagielski and Fillister to abandon the attack and reverse course at all speed.”
“And why would you do that?” a Board captain asked. “Three ships had a better chance of defeating the sphere than one. These men couldn’t have known the sphere would self-destruct.”
“I knew,” Alex said quietly, but with a voice that carried clearly throughout the room. It created a buzz throughout the audience, which required Jacobsen to call for order or he would clear the room.
“How could you know, Mr. Racine?” Jacobsen asked.
“Analysis of information gleaned during the past two-plus decades, Sers,” Alex replied.” While you enjoyed a period of peace, others of us fought the first Nua’ll sphere. While you slept, we built warships. While you wondered about what lay beyond your star, we visited there, discovered intelligent life, and the presence of a massive enemy. And, while you traded for our technology, we hunted a second sphere for nearly a year. After a while, you come to understand your enemy, Sers, maybe better than you know yourself. The Nua’ll will sacrifice themselves for their society. That’s how their civilization has achieved its age and expanse. You’d do well to mark my words. If you don’t seek them out, then, one day, they’ll come for you.”
Rather than sit down, Alex spun and marched out of the room, his people flowing in his wake.
-25-
The Dream
Following the NT captains’ testimonies, the Board reviewed their Tridents’ controller records. Three days later, their findings were announced. No charges were preferred against Captains Jagielski and Fillister, but the Board recommended they be removed from their command positions. It was obvious to the two men that their naval careers had been truncated. They would serve out their enlistment terms in administrative positions and then, more than likely, quietly retire.
“All that training time wasted,” Tatia grumbled to Alex, when they heard the pronouncements.
“Who says?” Alex asked.
“Well, New Terra has two Tridents to add to the two they have in trials and no experienced battle captains to command either one of the four,” Tatia replied. “From what I hear, they’re planning to jump fighter captains into these positions.”
“You mean like we did?” Alex asked, grinning at Tatia.
“Yes, we did, and look how long we spent training them. Could we have that much time to do it all over again, dear leader?” Tatia asked, her voice sweet and encouraging.
“Cute,” Alex commented. “I don’t know how long we have, but the sooner we seek out the Nua’ll, the less time they’ll have to find us. But, returning to the subject at hand, I’m not interested in what New Terra does with its Tridents. Those are ships, and we’re going to have plenty of them. What we need, my dear admiral, are trained individuals,” Alex said.
“Oh, I love the way you think, Alex,” Tatia said, grinning broadly at him. “When and where?”
“No time like the present. I think we should invite Alphons and Bart to a meeting at Government House.”
“Excellent,” Tatia replied, sending a signal to Julien, the twins, and Franz.
Soon, the group was planet bound, with Franz at the helm of their traveler. Franz eyed his landing coordinates, checked his telemetry, and refrained from asking for clarification. Julien had supplied the data. He mentally shrugged and dropped through the clouds to descend over a suburban area. The coordinates pinpointed the middle of a road in front of a modest house, and Franz set the fighter down, impeding traffic.
Before the traveler’s hatch opened, Alphons, his wife, and son came out of the house.
When the hatch dropped, Tatia decided not to descend and start a prolonged conversation. Instead, she yelled from the hatch opening, “Captain, you’re late for a meeting. Get a move on.”
Alphons hurriedly kissed his wife, while his son ran inside and grabbed his father’s uniform jacket. Alphons hugged his son, grabbed his jacket, and ran to the traveler.
“Apologies, Admiral, I didn’t receive your message,” Alphons said, as he gained the fighter’s deck. “My comm account might have been restricted.”
“Hardly, Captain. You can’t miss a message that was never sent. Take a seat, please.”
When Alex indicated a seat beside Julien, Alphons sat down and greeted each of them. He waited for an explanation, but the SADE and human quietly ignored him.
Tatia decided to stay at the hatch for the next stop, which Franz indicated was nearby. Instead of a house, Franz discovered his coordinates placed him at the third-floor level of an upscale apartment building.
When the hatch opened, it caught Tatia by surprise. She was looking across 10 meters of space to a balcony.
Tatia admonished via implant.
Although Franz sounded sincere, Tatia was sure that he was laughing.
The apartment’s balcony door slid open, and Bart poked his head out. “Admiral?” he queried.
“Get dressed, Bart, you have a meeting to attend at Government House. Downstairs, quick time.”
Franz landed, and soon Bart came running out of the apartment, shrugging into his jacket.
As Franz lifted, he could see the astonished faces of pedestrians and hover-car drivers, as they watched his traveler lift. Only the more adventuresome grav car riders had dared overfly his ship, while it was parked on the roadway. Most took an alternate route.
“What’s up, Admiral?” Bart asked, as his feet hit the traveler’s deck.
“Patience, Captain,” Tatia replied. “Take a seat.”
There was no vocal conversation during the flight to Government House. Alphons and Bart exchanged glances of query, but neither seemed to have an idea as to what was happening.
Once again, Franz landed at Government House. The Omnians and New Terran captains were met on the front steps by the president’s chief of staff.
“Mr. Racine, the president begs your indulgence,” the chief of staff said, by way of a greeting. “He’s anticipated the reason you’re here and informs me that he’ll be with you shortly. If you care to wait in the first floor’s main conference room, Sir?”
Alex and the others waited quietly for a half hour before Harold hurried through the door.
/> “Apologies, Alex, friends, but let me announce my news before we begin. I’ve this very moment concluded successful negotiations to appoint a person to a new cabinet post, the Minister of Defense.
Tatia complained to Alex.
Harold briefly touched his ear comm. “Hah, I’m pleased to present my new Minister of Defense,” Harold said with a sweep of his arm, as Maria Gonzalez walked through the door.
“Into the dark together, my friends,” Maria replied, a huge grin on her face.
“Yes,” Tatia exclaimed, clapping her hands together and rushing to congratulate Maria.
After Tatia, Alex folded Maria in his arms, the two of them holding on to each other.
“And there’s no better compliment than that,” Maria whispered in Alex’s ear, before she released him.
Julien hugged Maria, and then he turned to Harold, and said, “Mr. President, may I congratulate you on the wisdom of your choice?”
“I’m learning, Julien,” Harold admitted.
Maria glanced at Alain, who stood near her. His head was bent and a hand on his heart. Across the room, Étienne held the same position.
Maria straightened and solemnly bowed. “Escorts, you honor me,” she said, before lifting her head, pleased to see the grins on the crèche-mates’ faces.
“Well, everyone, take a seat,” Harold said, beaming. “I’m pleased to see you approve of my choice for the new ministerial post.” He couldn’t have been happier. From what appeared to be a politically unwinnable set of circumstances, he’d managed to solve multiple problems with a single solution.
“Alex, before we talk, I’d prefer to address the captains,” Maria said. It wasn’t necessary to ask Alex’s permission to speak to her own people, but that was her style. For her efforts, she received a gracious nod from Alex.
“Captains,” Maria said, and Alphons and Bart jumped to attention. “I have a question to address to each of you, regarding your fitness to serve.”
