Resolute Strike (The War for Terra Book 7)

by James Prosser

  “When did your people find the time to practice this?” Dalton asked Pearce.

  “Actually,” Lee replied, his expression still serious but his tone light. “It turns out some of my new crew were once part of the chancellor’s honor guard. When I reviewed the rosters I saw their last duty station and asked. It’s really amazing what you learn when you read reports.”

  Dalton let out a puff of air. The man’s cavalier attitude was irritating most of the time, but right now he felt only admiration. Up close, the man was really not what he had thought. His charm was infectious and his manner more military than expected. As he watched the Tonal approach, he realized he was beginning to understand how he had been beaten. He had always believed in discipline and order, like his father had preached, but Pearce led by being worthy of their faith. When faced with overwhelming odds, the man changed not only the rules of the game, but the laws of physics.

  “Captain to the bridge!”

  Kama Yu’s distinctive voice rebounded around the landing bay, drowning out the sound of the fanfare and stopping the ceremony. Lee looked at Dalton, a frown crossing the man’s dark face. Lee held up a hand, killing the music. He and the other captain immediately stepped together to the nearest comm unit.

  “This is Pearce, report.”

  “Captain, I have a priority alpha message from Alliance headquarters, eyes only,” Kama responded without hesitation. “If Captain Dalton is there, you need to bring him as well.”

  Priority alpha indicated a message from the top brass at command. Without bothering to acknowledge the message, Lee snapped off the comm and motioned for the yeoman to step forward. The Tonal scuttled forward to his captain and presented the small box. Lee took it and stuck it in his uniform pocket without comment.

  “Station!” Lee called. “Sound general quarters and prepare the ship for travel. Baron, secure the Eagles and prep the captain’s shuttle for immediate return.”

  A chorus of replies was drowned out by the sound of movement. Lee moved to the bay airlock doors without comment. Dalton followed in step as the man walked straight through to the corridor outside. Neither man spoke as they travelled but both were thinking the same thought. If a priority alpha situation had been called, the war games were over. The lift doors snapped open as Lee pressed the controls. Both men stepped in and the doors closed.

  Dalton finally broke the silence as the lift began to move. “Lee, how did you do it? The Enxy Sea was an ancient and preserved monument to the Tonal. No one has ever just pushed it aside like what I just saw out there. M-space engines don’t function like that.”

  “Mine do,” Lee responded. “I’m guessing our refit was designed by a certain conniving Singaporean who had some kind of plan. One way or the other, my … engineers figured out how to use the M-space generators to set up a feedback wave. We needed you to seed the clouds, but I figured you were good for it. Honestly, I didn’t think it would work but—”

  “It’s just like you, isn’t it?” Dalton replied. “You can’t play by the rules, can you?”

  “I wasn’t aware I broke any rules of engagement, Franklin,” Lee responded, not turning to face him. “I stayed within the engagement zone and used only the equipment I had been given. The orders were to capture the buoy and return it to the safe zone. You didn’t say how I was supposed to do that.”

  “You broke the laws of physics, Lee,” Dalton replied just as the doors opened.

  “Apparently,” Lee sighed, turning his head and sending a smile over his shoulder. “Laws and physics are two things I’m good at breaking. Just read the reviews of those damn books.”

  Dalton watched as the other captain stepped into the corridor leading to the bridge. He let out an angry breath and followed. The books had been a major problem for Dalton. The author, one of the men rescued by Pearce during the occupation, had glorified the non-military aspects of Lee’s career to make him seem more heroic. For Franklin Dalton, the books had served to reinforce the idea that the only way to succeed in the galaxy was to make your own rules and tear down authority. He’d had to retrain young officers in military bearing after the books had swept through his ship. Secretly, Dalton kept a set of the cursed literature in his quarters as a way of reminding him of how pilots glorified their own careers to the detriment of the whole organization.

  As he followed Pearce, Dalton saw the swagger which had made the man famous. Two officers stopped him on the way to the bridge, asking about minor details regarding the ship. The maneuver had cost the old battleship blown relays and computer damage all over. Lee handled the situation and issued orders as if his crew were family. For a brief moment, Dalton was jealous of the relationship the man had with his crew, but quickly remembered his own training and stood straighter. Crew was close but not family. Treat subordinates well but don’t let them lose their place. These were the precepts his father had taught and that Dalton tried to adhere to. It was the only way to run an efficient ship, and efficiency was the prime concern of a captain.

  Instead of the bridge, Pearce took a door to one side. Franklin recognized the interior as the new standard briefing room for fleet ships. Although he had never been in this particular room, he felt an odd sense of déjà vu; the same version was on his own vessel. Lee stepped to the podium and called the bridge.

  “Kama, Dalton and I are in the briefing room. Send the message here,” Lee said into the comm. “Franklin, can you seal the door, please.”

  Dalton, not expecting the command, stuttered for a moment before turning and placing a hand over the door panel. When the panel turned red, he tapped a few controls and entered his command access codes. The magnetic seals on the door sucked tight with a hiss. Dalton turned back to the small stage and walked over to join Lee. Both men took seats in the front row and waited. In a few moments, the image of a tall, distinguished Vadne official in violet robes shimmered into existence.

  “Chancellor!” Lee said, surprised at the appearance of the dignitary. He had been expecting Admiral Chang.

  “Chancellor Ingot,” Dalton said, holding his composure despite his own surprise. “It’s an honor to speak with you. What can we do for you?”

  “Captains Dalton and Pearce,” the chancellor said in his deep and melodious voice. “I’m glad you are together. I have some news for you that may be upsetting.”

  “Yes, sir,” Pearce replied, regaining his bearing. “Is it the admiral?”

  Dalton looked to the other captain for a moment. He knew Lee’s loyalty to Chang had brought him into conflict with the Alliance and with the fleet in the past. That his first impulse was to ask about the man was telling. Although Pearce had expressed displeasure at the scheme to protect the admiral during the initial assault of Earth by the Vadne, he could never lose his loyalty completely.

  “Yes, Captain Pearce,” the chancellor replied. “Admiral Chang led a strike force into the Sol system at oh-four hundred this morning fleet standard time. Ronald was in command of the Baal and led a multi-species taskforce with the intent of gathering intelligence on the Gizzeen advance. We lost contact with them within minutes of their entry into Earth space.”

  Both captains sat stunned at the news. Dalton felt respect for the admiral for leading the charge against the enemy himself, but his loss would be devastating to the fleet. It seemed shortsighted to risk the man who had developed most of the fleet’s tactics and strategies on a suicidal run straight into the heart of Terra.

  “How many ships?” Pearce asked, interrupting Dalton’s thoughts. “Were there any survivors?”

  “I’m afraid not, Captain Pearce. I’m sorry,” Ingot replied. “We need you both back here right away. Leave the war games fleet behind and get here quickly. Captain Dalton, you will retain your rank as fleet captain for the duration. I can’t stress how important it is that you come with all speed. The admiral left orders in case he didn’t make it back, and they involve both of you.”

  “Of course he did,” Pearce said quietly. “We can be back i
n a few hours, Chancellor.”

  “A few hours?” Dalton said, turning away from the projection to the other captain. “Vadne is twelve hours in M-space at top speed, Lee. You have at least a few hours of repairs by what I’ve seen. Just because you want me to look bad doesn’t mean you can make promises you—”

  “Resolute will be at Vadne Central in three hours, Chancellor.”

  “Good, I’ll be waiting for you, Pearce,” the politician said. “Dalton, you and your fleet will need to pull into wide orbit and prepare. I’ll be expecting you for dinner. Thank you both.”

  The signal abruptly cut off as the chancellor’s image snapped out. For a long moment, neither man spoke. It was Dalton who finally turned on Pearce, blocking his exit from the room. Pearce didn’t move, though, he just kept staring at the empty space where the chancellor had been standing.

  “Look, Pearce, I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye, but telling the chancellor three hours was—”

  “He knew.”

  “What?”

  “He didn’t seem surprised when I told him three hours, Franklin,” Lee said, his voice a dangerous edge. “He told you he expected you for dinner tonight, but me he just accepted the three hours.”

  “The chancellor isn’t a military man,” Dalton answered. “He doesn’t know travel times or when they’re being exaggerated.”

  “He knew, Captain,” Lee said, turning and staring straight into his eyes. “He knew, and I bet Chang told him about it. He’s doing it to us again. The man is dead and still he’s pulling strings.”

  “So you’re going to go off half-cocked and try to rescue him, aren’t you?” Dalton asked, not believing Lee’s audacity. “You know, I thought the books made you out as some kind of rogue who didn’t follow orders, but I didn’t expect you to be a raving paranoiac.”

  “Well then,” Pearce said, a small smile crossing his lips. “You haven’t been reading close enough. I’ll be waiting for you on Vadne, Fleet Captain. You’d better get back to your ship.”

  Pearce took a step closer to the taller man, daring Dalton to move. In the end, he reached up and clasped the man’s shoulder before turning back to the podium. It was such a strange gesture to make and it caught Dalton off guard. He stared back at the other captain for a long moment, trying to decide if the man was insane or not. In the end, he decided it wasn’t his decision to make and turned on his heel. It wasn’t until he was back on his own shuttle he realized something was in the pocket of his dress uniform. When he pulled it out he saw it was the box he was to have been presented with during the ceremony.

  Small and flat, not much larger than a few centimeters across, the box had been handcrafted from ship’s materials. Inside, on a velvet backed cushion, was a small patch of fabric. Dalton had forgotten about the wager in the excitement of the moment, but it was obvious Pearce hadn’t. He pulled the patch out and looked at it. As he stepped back into his own shuttle, he pulled the mission patch from his own uniform and replaced it with the patch from the box. The small red sun image was matched by the patches on Resolute’s crew. As a last gesture, Dalton tossed the crossed lightning bolt patch from his own uniform to the deck just as the door closed.

  “You know,” Dalton said to no one. “I hate that man.”

  11

  Vadne

  As the shuttle tapped the deck of the Alliance Central spaceport, Lee couldn’t help but feel anxious for the mission. He yanked at the collar of his white dress uniform and checked the time on his wrist comm for the ninth time since leaving Resolute. He stood and helped Alice from her seat as well. She looked weak but had none of the disorientation of the previous days in her bearing. Beside them across the aisle sat Na’Tora alone. The Ch’Tauk had been drawing symbols on one of his people’s thin, clear data sheets and seemed oblivious to the enmity the others on board showed him.

  Resolute had completed repairs earlier than expected and left the Enxy Sea as soon as they were able. Despite the disruption to the natural phenomenon they had caused, the Sea was already beginning to repair itself. Dalton had sent a mission report for the fleet admirals to read, and Lee dutifully had brought the chip. Pulling into Vadne orbit had been disturbing, as traffic was the highest he had ever seen it. The news of the death of Admiral Chang had not yet reached the news networks, but in a system as open as the Alliance, it was only a matter of time. He knew the military would be preparing for further maneuvers even without the admiral, but it didn’t make Lee feel any more secure. The fact Chang had left orders for him specifically had a chilling effect on the situation.

  “Hurry up,” Alice said, nudging him along the aisle towards the door as the other passengers disembarked. “I want to see sunrise from the plaza.”

  Resolute had been docked at a civilian station on Vadne’s night side. Because of some damage to the bay doors during the exercise, Lee and Na’Tora had been forced to take civilian passenger transport to the surface. Seeing Alice recovering, Lee thought to take her along for some fresh air. She had not had much time to spend planet-side the last few weeks and he thought getting away from the ship and its engineering mysteries might help snap her out of whatever had taken hold of her. When she learned she would be going, she had been ecstatic and promptly threw him in the shower and laid out their dress uniforms. Seeing her excited proved to him he had been right about the trip.

  “There are other people who need to get out first, dear,” Lee said, smiling at her from over his shoulder. “We in the military live to serve, remember. We don’t bully people off transports.”

  “None of them have had books written about them, now have they?” Alice said, pinching his bottom. “Now go before we miss it.”

  “Captain Pearce, I have questions regarding our meeting with the chancellor of your Alliance,” Na’Tora said. “We have only been given limited parameters for this meeting. How formal should our greetings be?”

  “Why don’t you let me do the talking,” Lee replied. “It is my Alliance, after all.”

  Na’Tora stared back with his black eyes, not seeming to understand the slight. Lee noticed as they made their way along the aisle that nobody wanted to stand next to the alien. The majority of the passengers were Vadne, who had always seemed above the racism most species displayed, but here it seemed the war had not completely ended. It was something new Lee decided to file for later. Na’Tora chuffed and looked back to his sheet. It was a sound of annoyance Lee had gotten used to, like the faint odor from the Ch’Tauk when he was irritated.

  “It’s our turn,” Alice said, pushing Lee towards the door. “Let’s go.”

  Lee felt the hands on his back pushing him towards the exit. An elderly Tonal woman was still lugging a large bag from the overhead compartment, blocking their way. Lee helped take the bag down and handed it to the porcine woman. She smiled through a thick layer of fat around her face and waddled out the door. Alice smiled as she watched Lee help the old woman and then grabbed his uniform front and dragged him towards the door.

  The Vadne spaceport was a vast enclosed structure near the edge of the capital city. The ramp which took them into the spaceport proper was narrow and only allowed single file travel into the port’s main passenger area. As Lee exited the walkway, a crowd surrounding the exit began to cheer. Startled by the sudden rush of sound, Lee held up an arm in a defensive gesture. The crowd began to swell as the cheers rose in volume. Lee could see Alice being swallowed up by the surge of creatures trying to honor them. He tugged at her arm, drawing her closer to him. The crowd emitted a sympathetic sound as he held her tight. Flashes of light blinded them as they tried to push through the crowd. Lee nearly tumbled as a small boy, a Vadne brindle with wide blue eyes and a tunic bearing Lee’s face, shot between his legs and clung to his side.

  “Please,” Lee tried to shout above the din. “Please just let us through.” We have a meeting with the chancellor.”

  Their frustration grew as they pushed their way through the crowd. Alice felt hands reaching o
ut to touch her face, skin and uniform. Each of these people had come to see their heroes, and each wanted a piece of them before they would disperse. The siren of spaceport security was nearly lost as Lee tried to protect his fiancée from the crowds. The crush of hands and breath was becoming overwhelming. His training was telling him to fight, but looking around at the rush of faces he knew these people weren’t the enemy. They were just fans who wanted to experience their own thrill of excitement by meeting their idols.

  “Disperse now,” a voice boomed from behind them. “Or I will disperse you.”

  The crowd let out a panicked cry and began to move back. Lee was holding Alice tight to his chest even as the people backed off. More hands felt for him as they moved away. The reaction was so sudden Lee felt like he had been holding his breath and was suddenly allowed to exhale. As the last of the crowd moved back to a fearful distance, Lee realized the little Vadne boy was still clutching his leg. A long black claw pinched the tunic with Lee’s face on it and pulled the young boy away.

  Lee turned to see the black on black eyes of his first officer staring into the blue eyes of the boy. Na’Tora had lifted the boy completely off his feet and was staring at him with his mandibles wide open. The boy wasn’t crying, but stared in wonder at the face of a former enemy. With a roar from the crowd a large Vadne male vaulted into the fray, pushing past people and landing directly between Lee and Na’Tora, growling a warning to the Ch’Tauk. The brute’s crest was up and his fangs were bared as he squared off against the insect-like Ch’Tauk. The tension was high as Na’Tora held the boy close in a defensive gesture.