Fleet Action wc-3

by William R. Forstchen

"And who will protect you then?" Jamison replied sarcastically.

  "You did a damn poor job of protecting us when the Kilrathi hit us last time, your fleet withdrawing 'out of strategic necessity,' I think you called it. It couldn't be any worse on our own, and I'll tell you this, there'll be more than one frontier colonial world that will go with us. You don't even see members of the Landreich worlds or the Grovsner colonies here, since they want no part of this peace."

  "That's treason," Jamison sputtered, "and if the colonial worlds violate the armistice they will be disciplined.

  "No, its survival and mark my words, there'll come a day when you will choke on the papers you plan to sign here this day. And as for disciplining the colonial worlds, just try it," Rikik said with a cold laugh.

  She looked around the room, more than one of the military personnel looking at her and nodding. Without another word she drew back from the table and stalked from the room, followed by her one aide.

  "Old K'Kai sure has taught her niece well," Hunter whispered, waving a slight greeting to his Firekka comrade as she followed her niece out of the room.

  There was a moment of uneasy silence.

  "I think that continued debate on this subject will only serve to cause more animosity and outbreaks," Rodham finally said. "I thank all of you for your input over the last two days regarding this issue.

  "Here it comes, Ian whispered.

  "I plan to sign the articles of the armistice within the hour and with it establish a bilateral peace commission to work towards a permanent treaty between the Terran Confederation and the Kilrathi Empire. You are invited to join me if you wish. Thank you, ladies and gentlemen."

  Rodham stood up and walked out of the room, followed by the civilians and staff.

  "Damn them to hell!"

  Jason looked over at Admiral Banbridge who flung his memo computer down on the table and stormed out of the room through the opposite door.

  Tolwyn turned and looked back at Ian.

  "Well, your Firekka friends sure played a damn fine scene," he said with a grin.

  "Think they'd really do it?" Jason asked, turning to Ian.

  Ian smiled.

  "Those birds might not look like much when you first meet them, but I'll tell you this, they make the finest liquor in this corner of the universe and straight or drunk when they make a promise they keep it."

  "What about that threat of the colonies not observing the armistice?" Jason asked.

  "Let's not talk of that now, Tolwyn said quietly. "Shall we go watch the show?"

  Though he hated to admit it, Jason found that he actually did want to see what was already being hailed as the most historic moment in a hundred years, as if all the victories and even the defeats of the war had already become secondary.

  Tolwyn stood up and started for the door that Rodham had gone through. Admiral Noragami, head of the Joint Chiefs of Staff came around from the other side of the table and approached Tolwyn.

  "Nice try, Geoff, but it was doomed from the start."

  Tolwyn nodded.

  "I heard that a little something regarding you has just come to light as well," Nuragami said quietly.

  Tolwyn merely smiled and Nuragami extended his hand.

  "Take care of yourself, Geoff," Nuragami said and turning he went out the opposite door taken by Banbridge. Knowing how Tolwyn felt about the whole affair, Jason was more than a little surprised that his admiral was not boycotting the signing as well.

  They passed down a long corridor lined with Marine security guards and stepped into an open cavernous hall which served as the hangar bay for this deep space base, the vacuum of space on the other side kept out by the magnetic lock field

  How many times have I looked out a bay like that, he thought, sitting inside my fighter, strapped in and waiting for the launch signal? The mere thought of it set his heart racing again. Even though he was glad the fighting had stopped, he knew he'd miss it, the adrenaline rush of launching, the pure joy of flying the most powerful fighter craft ever built. If this peace really did hold, all of that was finished. It was a strange feeling of relief and regret all at once.

  "Gonna miss it," Hunter said softly, standing by Jason's side.

  Hunter nodded that they should follow Tolwyn, who was slowly weaving his way through the crowd to stand with the small knot of military personnel who had decided to witness the event

  A polished durasteel table two meters wide was the only furniture in the middle of the hangar. On the table, in ornate gold embossed folders rested the armistice agreement with copies in Standard English and Kilrah. To one side more than a hundred representatives of the Confederation were present, easily outnumbered by the hundreds of members of the press. The other side of the table and hangar was empty.

  A door on the far side of the hangar opened and a lone Kilrathi emerged without fanfare, dressed in a simple uniform of scarlet and gold. The press turned their cameras on him, several breaking with protocol and shouting questions.

  Baron Jukaga turned, looked at them, and smiled, raising his paw in a friendly wave. The press went wild, moving in closer.

  "I have a little formality to attend to first," he announced, his standard English nearly perfect and free of the tendency of putting a hissing s on soft ending words and hard k's on most others, "then we'll have a chance to talk later," and his disarming informality caused several of the press to laugh.

  Behind him came yet more Kilrathi, these in the more formal garb of high officers and they filed silently past the cameras and lined up behind Jukaga. Jason noticed that there was only one Kilrathi photographer recording the scene as compared to the swarm of reporters from the Confederation side.

  "We have reached agreement then?" Jukaga asked standing by the other side of the table opposite Rodham.

  The president smiled, nodded, and pointed at the formal documents set in the middle of the table.

  Without hesitating Jukaga took up a pen, signed the documents, and then slid them back to Rodham, who signed it as well. The two shook and Jukaga turned and looked back at the press.

  "Friends, this armistice is but a start. Let us truly come to realize that the universe is big enough for both of us and that a permanent peace can be arrived at. These proceedings are now ended."

  A cheer erupted and Tolwyn, shaking his head, looked back at Jason.

  "He certainly knows his Earth history with that closing line. Let's hope it isn't prophetic as to who the ultimate winner is."

  Jason wanted to ask him to explain the reference but decided to let it pass.

  The crowd started to break apart into smaller groups many heading for the refreshments arrayed along a side wall. Jason followed in Tolwyn's wake and noticed a Kilrathi officer coming up to them.

  "You are Tolwyn? ' the Kilrathi asked.

  "Yes."

  "I am Tukarg. I was in command of the carrier Gi'karga in what you call the Third Enigma Campaign. I wished to tell you your counterstrike was masterful."

  Taken off guard Tolwyn said nothing.

  "I also understand you commanded the opening of the recent action at Munro."

  Tolwyn still remained silent. From behind Tukarg another Kilrathi appeared and Jason was surprised to see that it was the Baron.

  He was not as tall as most Kilrathi and could even be called slight by their standards, though that was still powerful when compared to a human. His coat was a smooth golden red, and from what little Jason knew of Kilrathi blood lines, the coloring was a mark of the most noble breeding. His eyes were dark, almost coal black, but as he approached a flash of reflected light made them appear to glow for an instant with the color of fire.

  "A nice quote of MacArthur," Tolwyn said as Jukaga approached. "Did it have some hidden meaning?"

  Jukaga laughed softly.

  "Maybe a bad choice on my part; I didn't want to imply that it was you surrendering to us."

  "I understand you've read a lot of our literature.

  Jukaga smiled.
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  "A hobby I've found fascinating. Your Chaucer's tales are much the same as our own Backrka's 'Tomes of Sivar,' about a group of pilgrims traveling to a holy shrine.

  Tolwyn smiled.

  "A nice choice of English works to study," Tolwyn said.

  "Ah yes, you were born near Canterbury."

  "However, the pilgrimage to the tomb of Thomas Becket had slightly different rituals than the blood feast of Sivar," Tolwyn replied.

  "Different people, different customs, as they say, but nevertheless I do enjoy your literature."

  "You've spent time then studying me?" Tolwyn asked.

  "You were an adversary. I heard you led the first wave at Vukar Tag, of course I would want to know more of you."

  "So you read Chaucer, is that it?"

  Jukaga laughed

  "Amongst others."

  "And who are some of the others?" Tolwyn asked quietly.

  Jukaga smiled.

  "Political, intellectual writers."

  "Such as Machiavelli, Sun Tzu," Tolwyn ventured, "or perhaps some pages from the writings of Mao or General Giap and his writings on how to weaken an opponent through means other than war; or perhaps a little Clausewitz or the Alpha Centurian theorist Vitivius the Younger."

  "Why those in particular? Is this a recommended reading list?"

  "No," Tolwyn said quietly, "just speculation."

  "Ah, another mistrustful military man," Jukaga replied his voice pitched a little louder so that the press who had gathered at the edge of the group could hear better.

  "Your assumption, not mine," Tolwyn replied softly.

  "Yet another prophet of doom that peace will never work," and he paused for a second, noticing that several reporters and cameramen were jockeying into position to catch the encounter.

  "Admiral, aren't we late for our dinner appointment?" Jason said, coming up behind Tolwyn, lying like mad, but unable to think of a better excuse to extract his commander.

  "Don't forget, Geoffrey . . ." and Jukaga paused, "May I call you that? '

  "My friends do," Tolwyn replied coldly.

  "All right, then Admiral. Let me remind you that we Kilrathi have suffered just as much in this unfortunate war. We have lost millions as well. I've heard you people talk about atrocities, but we have suffered them too."

  He looked over at Jason and smiled again.

  "Though there were some of your warriors who did fight with honor and tried to protect our innocent women and children, even if they were furballs as you so ineloquently put it."

  Jason felt uncomfortable by his attention but looked back at him, saying nothing.

  Jukaga hesitated for a moment as if not wishing to say something.

  "Speaking of atrocities," Tukarg, standing behind Jukaga, interjected.

  "Let it drop, it's over," Jukaga replied

  Tukarg shook his head

  "I had clan blood on that ship," Tukarg said coldly and he turned to look at the press.

  We have intelligence information that your Admiral Tolwyn launched an attack against one of our ships after he had already received the report that a preliminary armistice agreement had been reached and that all offensive action was to cease. Such an act is a war crime."

  "An honest mistake," Jukaga said as if almost apologizing for Tukarg. "And besides," he said with a forced laugh, "now you've gone and revealed that we had cracked their latest fleet code.

  "I'm sorry this has come up," Jukaga continued, "but perhaps there should be an investigation to clear your name."

  "There's no need for an investigation," Tolwyn said quietly

  "Oh, then of course you are innocent."

  "No, quite the contrary," Tolwyn replied, "I did it because it was my duty. Now if you'll excuse me."

  He nodded curtly and turned away.

  The press swarmed after him shouting questions, shouldering Jason and Ian out of the way.

  "Nicely done," Jason said coldly, looking straight at Jukaga.

  For a brief instant he felt as if he could almost sense the contempt and then the smile returned.

  "I didn't want it to happen. I know how a warriors blood can get up. It was unfortunate but such incidents happen in war. It was best to leave it forgotten now that it is over."

  "But of course," Jason said coldly.

  "You were the one who raided our home world, weren't you?"

  "First to Kilrah," Jason said quietly, repeating what was now the slogan of his ship.

  Again there seemed to be that flash.

  "Masterful; I studied it intently afterwards."

  "I just bet you did," Ian replied.

  "Perhaps we'll talk again someday," Jukaga said stiffly and turning he walked off, the smile returning as he waved to the cameras.

  "Come on," Jason said angrily, looking over at Hunter, "let's get out of here, I need to find a bathroom."

  Jukaga turned back and watched Tolwyn disappear from view, surrounded by a horde of press shouting questions. Tolwyn's actions had caught him by surprise. It was a convenient way of removing one of the finest fleet admirals of the Confederation and to discredit the fleet as well. And yet it struck him as strange that Tolwyn would allow his passion to get the better of him. It did not fit the pattern at all of a man he had studied so intently. He found that he almost felt sorry for him. How easily he had been destroyed, not in battle, but by a ruse. The ever eager reporters of the Confederation, who would now destroy a man that the best fleet officers of the Empire found to be unbeatable.

  Yes, he could feel sorry for him even if he was the enemy, and that realization Jukaga found to be almost troubling.

  CHAPTER THREE

  "All engines stop."

  "All engines stop, sir. Hard dock to station secured"

  Docking a ship the size of an escort carrier was always a bit of a tricky job, and with the maneuver finished Jason sat back in his chair and took a sip of coffee.

  He looked around at his bridge crew who stood silent. The speeches had already been made earlier when the rest of the crew, except for the few hands necessary for this final run out from Earth orbit, had transferred off.

  There was simply nothing more to be said.

  "Secure reactor to cold shut down," he said softly.

  He paused for a moment.

  "I guess that's it."

  The crew was unable to reply.

  "Dock yard officer coming aboard," a petty officer announced and Jason nodded.

  A minute later he heard the footsteps in the corridor and tried to force a smile. A lone officer came on to the bridge, faced Jason, and saluted.

  "Lieutenant Commander Westerlin, commander fleet yard five, requesting permission to come aboard, sir."

  He tried to be formal in reply but his voice still caught slightly.

  "Permission granted," and returned the salute.

  The officer pulled out a small piece of paper and unfolded it.

  "By order of C-in-C ConFleet, to Captain Jason Bondarevsky, CVE Tarawa," the officer began, and Jason could see he had been through the ritual so many times that he barely needed to read the orders.

  "As of the this date, CVE 8 Confederation Fleet Ship Tarawa is hereby officially stricken from active list and placed in inactive reserve. Unless otherwise noted in attached form below, all officers and crew are hereby discharged from active fleet service upon completion of all proper discharge procedures and placed on inactive reserves. Signed C-in-C ConFleet."

  The officer folded the paper and hesitated for a moment.

  "Sir, its a bit out of form but I also received a note from the Commander of Third Fleet, Admiral Banbridge, which he asked me to read."

  Jason nodded, and the officer unfolded the piece of paper.

  "Never in the annals of the fleet has so much been accomplished by a ship such as yours. I am proud to have served with all of you. The name Tarawa will not be forgotten, God bless you all."

  The officer handed the paper to Jason, who smiled.

  "Sir,
for what's it's worth I hate this job," the officer said quietly. "A lot of the other ships I don t really care about, but your ship, sir," and he hesitated. "Sir, I'm sorry I have to take over this old girl. She's a proud ship."

  "So am I," Jason sighed "Just take good care of her."

  "We'll do our best."

  He turned and looked back at his crew.

  "Time you folks shipped off. I'll be along shortly."

  One by one they filed off the bridge, Jason standing by the door and shaking the hand of each until finally he was alone except for Westerlin.

  "I'll leave you alone if you want, sir," the officer said, as if he were a mortician withdrawing from the side of a grieving widower, and he silently stepped off the bridge.

  Jason walked around the bridge one last time. It had been his bridge for really only a very short time. After the raid on Kilrah the ship had been laid up for a year. It would in fact have been far cheaper to simply scrap her and build a new one from scratch, but public opinion was dead set against it. During that year he'd been stuck Earthside, assigned to the fleet war college for advanced training, finishing up with a brief stint at the Academy to run their latest holo combat simulator training program. But the ship had sailed at last, only to serve in one final brief action before the armistice. Yet, it was his ship, it was in fact, since Kilrah, the only thing he really loved.

  He could have stayed longer, but then farewells should never be drawn out. Leaving the bridge without a backward glance he went into his cabin and hoisted the duffel bag off his bed. The room looked sterile now, just another standard ship's room, painted the usual light green, with one closet, a bed, a desk, and a computer terminal and holo projection box. The few pictures on his desk, his brother and himself taken before Joshua had gone off to the Marines, and died on Khorsan, a faded two dimensional image of his mother and father taken on the day they were married, and a shot of Svetlana that one of her friends in the Marines had sent along after her death — they were in his duffel.

  He closed the door behind him and walked down the now dimmed corridors. He passed the flight ready room and had a flash memory of his first day aboard, chewing out his new pilots, and passed on into the hangar deck. The Rapiers, Ferrets, and Sabres lined the deck and it felt strange to hear the silence. No engines humming, no shouted commands blaring over the loudspeakers, the hissing roar of the catapult or the thunderclap of engines kicking in afterburners on a hot launch. It was a silence that was as complete and deeply disturbing as if he were walking through a tomb.