Resolute Omnibus (The War for Terra)

by James Prosser

  “They are already arriving in docking bay six,” replied the soldier, turning away from the admiral and staring at his monitor. “I can still send the signal, sir.”

  The admiral turned back to Lee and Henry. There was a look of anger in his eyes, and something that made Lee’s spine crawl. He noticed Henry’s hand grip his stun baton tighter as Hathaway advanced on the two men. Lee braced himself.

  “Commander Pearce,” said the admiral, stopping just before him. “Please show your captain to the bridge.”

  The admiral swept past the pilot and sat heavily into his command chair. He seemed to be dismissing Lee, and tried to tap controls on the arm of his chair. A flicker of holographic light puttered around him, but refused to show any usable data. Lee nodded to Henry and left the command deck.

  As he strode the corridors of Baal, Lee tried desperately to understand the admiral’s actions. He knew the man had to have been under enormous pressure after constantly battling the Ch’Tauk invasion. His ship was in ruins and he now faced the loss of the jamming signal, as well as the call to the enemy for reinforcements. Occasionally, Lee passed crewmen almost staggering down a corridor with desperation and exhaustion.

  By the time he arrived at the landing bay, Lee had decided to let the captain know about Hathaway’s actions, but not to alarm him with undue suspicions about the man’s sanity. Ortiz had always seemed like a man who could judge a situation and act appropriately, so Lee would let him decide about Hathaway on his own.

  The airlock doors opened together, releasing a small blast of cold air into the corridor. Lee saw that the captain’s shuttle was already open and a group of people wearing Terran Princess uniforms were gathering equipment and supplies.

  As Lee stepped into the landing bay, he spied Doctor Elliot Reeves ordering his medical staff to organize their supplies. His crisp British accent rang clear in the small hangar area. Lee saw Captain Ortiz standing to the side and watching his crew prepare for their mission. He seemed to be keeping a special eye on the doctor. Lee headed to the captain, sidestepping an engineer who was carrying a large crate of tools across the deck.

  “Captain,” said Lee. “It’s good to see you again.”

  “Commander,” Ortiz replied. “I saw you out there, Lee. I thought we agreed you wouldn’t do that sort of thing again.”

  “It’s okay, sir,” he said with a grin. “I had crewman Bennett with me for protection.”

  Ortiz looked at the pilot for a moment. The captain had a strange expression on his face as Lee mentioned Alice. The look lasted only a few seconds, but Lee wondered what it meant. He motioned for the captain to follow him as he turned to the door, but the man waved him off and pointed to the shuttle.

  “I’ve brought along some extra help, Lee,” said the captain. “Let’s go, folks, time to meet the admiral.”

  A large green head with wide lips peeked from the inside of the shuttle. Tuxor had to practically double over to fit through the door and enter the hangar deck. He was followed closely by Melaina Petros and two of the small aliens she called elves. Lee had barely seen the woman since he had rescued the prison ship several weeks before, and he thought she looked much better. Her skin had regained a smooth olive complexion and her hair was loose and tied back over her ears. She was wearing a crew jumpsuit from the Princess.

  “It is good to see you again, Commander,” said the Karisien, smoothing down the pleats in his custom-made trousers with his bottom set of limbs. “We have finally caught up with the battle group we were supposed to have joined three years ago. I have never been on a Confederacy warship before.”

  Lee smiled at the big alien as he watched him examine the landing bay. The elves followed him closely, never straying more than a few feet away while simultaneously putting their hands on anything they could reach. Melaina walked over to Lee and extended her hand.

  “It really is nice to see you again, Commander,” she said to Lee. “I had hoped to catch up with you last week, but we have been so busy….”

  Lee took the woman’s hand in his gently. The last time he had seen her she had seemed so weak. This time her grip was strong and sure and she smiled at him with a strength he hadn’t seen before. Lee couldn’t help but return her smile as their hands separated.

  “I am glad to see you up and about, Miss Petros,” Lee replied. “You are looking much better.”

  The captain coughed slightly, bringing Lee back to the real world. He turned away from the woman, but not before he thought he saw her cheeks flush slightly. The captain pulled Lee back to him and began to walk to the airlock door. Tuxor and the elves followed with Melaina in tow.

  “Lee,” Ortiz whispered to him, careful to keep his voice from carrying far. “How is Hathaway?”

  “The admiral?" Lee said, surprised by the captain’s tone. “He’s … alright, I guess. He’s under a lot of stress.”

  “So he’s still barking mad,” replied the captain. “At least some things haven’t changed.”

  The assembly left the hangar and Lee showed the group the way to the transit sled station on this deck. Lee slowed the transport to a stop near the lift to the bridge. The medical team offloaded their equipment first and then the engineers. One of the engineers almost dropped a large case before Tuxor reached over his head and lifted the crate almost without effort. He carried the crate off the sled and into the corridor himself, the elves staying near his powerful legs.

  As Lee led the way to the bridge, he saw the captain slow down and match strides with the doctor. The two men exchanged a few words and the doctor nodded back to Ortiz, who then sped up to parallel Lee.

  “Is he alright?” Lee asked. “I mean, is he.…”

  “No, Commander,” replied Ortiz. “He’s not. I think he’s going to be okay, but let’s keep an eye on him anyway. I need him here.”

  Lee nodded and pressed the activation panel for the bridge. The door slid open and Lee showed the captain up the command ramp. The admiral was standing with his back to the ramp with his hands clasped behind him. Henry Moore had moved from the upper deck to the lower and was now helping Ragu and another soldier with a control panel.

  “Alfredo Ortiz,” said Hathaway without turning. “I would have thought you were dead by now.”

  Ortiz stepped closer to the taller man. He straightened his back and stared straight at the man’s back.

  “Omar Hathaway,” replied Ortiz. “Who did you kill to get promoted?”

  Hathaway spun on one heel and moved faster than Lee would have believed towards the smaller man. He stopped just short of stepping on Ortiz’s feet and leaned into the man. Lee reached for his pistol, but stopped short of pulling it. He saw Ortiz narrow his eyes as he looked up at the other man’s face. There was a tense silence on the bridge as neither man moved a muscle.

  “You’re still a little pissant, Freddy,” said the admiral, almost in a whisper.

  “Yes sir, Admiral,” replied the captain, a smile tearing across his face.

  The two men threw their arms around each other in an embrace. Lee could not believe what he was seeing. Although he considered Ortiz to be a friend, he had never known the man to show this much emotion. It seemed there were still depths to the captain that Lee had not explored. The men released each other and turned back to Lee.

  “Commander,” the captain started. “Omar — I mean the admiral — and I went to the Academy together.”

  Lee relaxed his hand away from his pistol. The men had obviously known each other for quite some time and he felt that his caution may have been unfounded. He hoped the reunion would help stabilize Hathaway, but then he looked at the taller man’s face. Instead of the wide grin that Ortiz held, Hathaway had a look that Lee could only describe as contempt as he looked at the captain. When he looked back at Pearce, however, his expression softened back into a placid smile.

  “That’s great,” Lee said. “I’m glad you two know each other.”

  “What the hell?” exclaimed the admiral suddenly,
backing away from Ortiz. Lee turned his head to follow Hathaway’s gaze to see Tuxor and the elves enter the command deck. The tall alien looked back at the admiral blankly, and the elves gathered closer to Tuxor’s feet. Lee looked back at Hathaway.

  “It’s okay, sir,” he said, holding his hands out in a calming manner. “They’re friends from the Edison.”

  “The Edison,” the admiral replied, bewildered. “Oh, yes. Pearce told me about that. It’s good to see you.”

  Lee noted that the man did not look away from Tuxor, a look of revulsion on his face as he gazed at the large amphibian. Tuxor nodded at the man and showed the expression closest to a smile to him. Melaina stepped forward.

  “Admiral,” she said. “I am Melaina Petros, second in command of the Corp of Engineers team on Karisia.”

  Hathaway tore his gaze away from Tuxor to address the shorter woman. She stepped forward with her hand out. The admiral hesitated, but then clasped her hand in a tight shake. As the two parted, Lee noticed Melaina wring her hand, trying to wipe off the sweat from the handshake. Hathaway did not seem to notice as he turned back to Ortiz.

  “Freddy,” said the admiral. “I need your help.”

  “Of course, Omar,” he replied. “But I would appreciate it if you called me captain in front of the aliens.”

  Hathaway shook his head and waved off the comment. He approached Captain Ortiz closely again, his hands falling back to his sides.

  “I need your ship,” said the admiral.

  Ortiz looked back at his friend, stunned. Of all the requests he had anticipated, that was not one he ever thought he would hear. He stepped closer to the admiral and raised his hands to calm the admiral.

  “Admiral, the Terran Princess is not a military vessel,” he explained. “We don’t even have weapons.”

  “Freddy,” Hathaway said, once again looming over the shorter Ortiz. “You don’t understand. We need to find the Resolute before they give us away.”

  15

  Four Months Ago

  “Captain,” said the tactical officer, leaning over her console to speak to her commander. “The shield generator is starting to fail.”

  Captain Ronald Chang looked back over his shoulder at the woman, holding tight to the armrests of his command chair. The ship rocked back and forth under the steady bombardment of plasma fire from Ch’Tauk battle cruisers. He saw the woman stumble to stay on her feet as the panel behind her overloaded and exploded sparks across her back.

  “Lieutenant,” Chang yelled, trying to see if the tactical officer was okay. “Can you shunt power from weapons into the shields?”

  “I’m trying, sir,” she replied, wincing in pain from an obvious burn to her back. “The automation system is overloaded, but I think I’ve got it.”

  Chang turned back to the large display directly in front of him. He could make out the cruiser Mars, speeding across the war zone, trailing alien fighters in its wake. It seemed to be holding its own against the smaller fighters while trying to avoid any contact with the large, insectoid destroyer analogs that had surrounded the carrier group. Austerlitz, however, was almost dead in space, and only just barely able to defend itself against the swarming groups of fighters around it.

  A wave of Crowned Eagle class fighters, deployed from the carrier Baal, sped in close to the destroyer and returned fire. Baal herself was engaging the dreadnought directly with its arsenal of plasma cannons and fighters, but the battle appeared to be lost. He turned to the communications officer seated on the wall to his right. The man had a thin face, covered in soft white hair that faded to a gray at his neck.

  “Farthing,” he said to the furred officer. “Get me Admiral Hathaway.”

  The humanoid officer tapped commands on his panel, trying to break through the chatter and noise in the battle zone. He growled from his throat in frustration as he heard only static over his radio. Chang thought he saw the man’s claws extend a few times in anger, scratching the metal console that he was stationed at.

  “I’ve got them, sir,” he said, his voice a rumbling growl. “But not very well. I’ll try to clear it up.”

  Chang activated the circuit on his command chair controlling the inter-ship radio. Although the design of the bridge was old fashioned, the chair had been refurbished prior to their mission and worked very well with the outdated systems around him.

  “Baal,” he said, staring at the screen and trying to see the carrier. “This is Resolute. Do you copy?”

  There was a flare of static and a high-pitched whistle as the carrier took a massive hit from the battle cruiser. Chang thought he could see atmosphere venting amidships of the big carrier and hoped no one had been in that section.

  “Resolute,” said the voice of Admiral Hathaway. “I haven’t got time for you right now, Chang.”

  Captain Chang shook his head at the admiral’s response. The two men had never gotten along, but he hadn’t expected the man to undermine his authority like that. As he looked at the carrier across the battlefield, his heart ached.

  “Baal,” said Chang, not willing to let the other man dismiss him so easily. “Resolute is in position to assist, sir. We can defend your flank.”

  “Negative,” replied the voice of the admiral in a yell. “I need you there, defending the support fleet.”

  Resolute had been holding station on the outer edges of the battle, attempting to keep the Ceres class support ships as well as various engineering and logistics craft safe. Several squadrons of the small Ch’Tauk fighters had broken off and were attempting to destroy the support fleet, but Resolute was holding her own for the moment.

  “Sir,” he started, unwilling to abandon the carrier to the battle. “We need to open a jump point and get out of here. Can you get out here to us?”

  “Resolute,” crackled the radio again. “Hold your position, you coward!”

  “Sir,” sputtered Chang, shocked at the admiral’s voice.

  “I will not have you ordering a retreat, Chang,” said the admiral. “Not while I am in command of this fleet!”

  The radio squawked as the communications line was disconnected. Chang looked to Farthing, who looked back and shrugged. The signal had been cut off from the other end. The communications officer turned back to his panel and began trying to reestablish the signal. Captain Chang looked back to the screen, scanning his bridge as he did so.

  Resolute was an old battleship of the Victory class. Built before even Chang was born, her bridge design was an oval, with his command chair in the center directly behind a shared helm station. A double ring of consoles lined the bridge area, creating the illusion that the command chair was the center of the universe. His command staff was a multispecies grouping from across the Confederacy, a far cry from his former command, the carrier Baal.

  Chang had been awarded command of the carrier four years ago and had been proud to command the immense ship. He had selected the finest crew and was equally proud that they represented the best from across the galaxy. When he received word that Admiral Hathaway was to transfer his flag to Baal, Ronald had been sure that his career was made.

  However, as soon as the admiral was aboard, Ronald had been sent away from his own bridge on minor tasks. Hathaway was always polite when he asked for the operations, but soon went from asking to ordering him. Before Chang knew it, the admiral had transferred his hand-picked personnel off of Baal and away from Hathaway. When Chang had tried to protest, Hathaway sent him to check on the status of Gaia, one of the Ceres class support ships.

  Chang had been on board the Gaia when the Ch’Tauk had attacked. The ship had managed to remain largely undamaged during the attack, but was forced to draw in close to Baal for protection. Chang watched as the fleet was decimated in only a few moments before a jump point was opened and the remaining ships fled into M-space.

  Since then, Chang had been transferred to command the Resolute, whose captain was assumed dead during the invasion of Earth. The aging battleship had been assigned over and ov
er to babysitting the support fleet, despite its reputation for sturdiness in battle. The ship had been built before the modern use of plasma shields and had a thick layer of armor covering its rounded hull. She was a kilometer long weapon that had repeatedly survived battles that had nearly destroyed younger ships.

  “Ensign Goldstein,” ordered the captain. “Take us closer to Austerlitz.”

  “Captain, sir,” replied the lead helmsman. “The admiral ordered us to—”

  “I didn’t hear anything, Ensign,” replied the captain. “The transmission was garbled in static.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Goldstein, returning to his console. “Thrusters ahead.”

  “Lieutenant Richmond,” he said, turning back to the tactical station. “Can we shake off the gnats?”

  “Yes, sir,” replied the woman. “We are activating port and starboard auto-cannon systems. We are swatting flies, sir.”

  Chang smiled at the woman’s humor. He had come to rely on his command staff during the last few years. After he had been assigned to Resolute, he had been delighted to find that the non-human crew from Baal had been assigned to the elderly battleship. Although he had lost a few members of his crew in the countless battles the fleet had engaged in, he still retained almost seventy percent of the ship’s crew. As casualties had mounted on Baal, Chang had tried to transfer some of his people to the other ships, but Hathaway had always denied the request.

  “Sir, we are receiving a call from Baal,” said Farthing. “The admiral seems upset.”

  “Admiral Hathaway,” said Chang, activating the radio. “We missed your last message. We’re on our way to assist Austerlitz.”

  “Captain Chang,” said Hathaway. “We are pulling out. I need you to return to the support fleet and open a jump point. I need you to get those ships to safety.”

  Chang was speechless for a moment. After the tirade earlier, he had expected Hathaway to order his arrest or worse, but not a retreat. He looked to the white-furred communications officer, who looked back in surprise, his fur cresting on his head between his long pointed ears.