by B. V. Larson
A three-dimensional representation of the Solar System was depicted in fantastic resolution. The display loomed high, with no visible means of projection. Earth and Luna seemed to hover in the air. The missile platforms were also displayed.
Admiral Cunningham was talking as we approached.
“We lost too much ordnance against the battle cruiser,” she said. “We used our best missiles—a mistake. The warheads in the rest are old. Half the payloads we have left may not even detonate if they reach their targets.”
“The warheads will go off,” argued another, older male. He wore the insignia of a vice admiral.
“The half-life of plutonium is an implacable enemy,” Cunningham insisted. “Those warheads haven’t been recharged for thirty years.”
“Yes, they should be up for maintenance and rotation every seven years,” the older man said patiently. “But there’s a better than fifty-percent chance of detonation—”
Admiral Cunningham cut him off with a gesture. They’d noticed my approach.
“Lieutenant Commander,” the older man said. “I’m so glad you could make it in to see us today.”
I detected the sarcasm in his voice, but I didn’t understand it.
“Sorry sir,” I said. “I wasn’t expecting to be summoned to CENTCOM. I was on leave and—”
“Yes, yes,” the vice admiral interrupted. He turned back toward Cunningham. “This is the man, is it? I must say that before I met him, I didn’t think you were serious. Now, I’m frankly shocked.”
Confused, I looked from one of them to the other. I had the feeling something of great importance was going on, but I had no idea what it was.
“I’m always serious, Halsey,” Cunningham said. “This is the man. We don’t have anyone else.”
Admiral Halsey made a sweeping gesture with his arm. “On the contrary, there must be a hundred more qualified officers in this building right now!”
It was then that I noted a figure standing in Halsey’s shadow. His face was familiar—but I wasn’t happy to recognize him. He was Midshipman Taranto. The last I’d seen of him, he’d been locked in a cell aboard Defiant. Apparently, they’d let him loose when I’d handed over the ship at Araminta Station.
“No, we don’t have a hundred qualified commanders for this ship,” Admiral Cunningham said, shaking her head. “The technology is too divergent from our own. Perhaps you’d be right if we had the time to train them. But we don’t. We don’t even know how to train them.”
“Excuse me, sirs?” I said, unable to stay silent any longer. “May I ask what’s going on? Is this related to the assassinations sweeping Earth?”
They looked at me. “Yes, and no,” Cunningham said. “We have an even bigger problem now.”
“That’s on a need-to-know basis!” Halsey objected.
“He needs to know.”‘
Halsey glowered and shuffled from foot to foot. Taranto cast dark looks at me from behind the admiral’s bulk.
Cunningham turned toward me again. “The rock rats—excuse me, the Independent Miner’s League, have announced war on Earth.”
I would have laughed aloud, but they didn’t look amused. Every face was sour, worried.
“I don’t understand,” I said. “I know they have a militia consisting of a few dozen small ships, but—”
Cunningham made a sweeping gesture with her arm. The display that hung in the air between and above us shimmered, changing. It showed a large number of red contacts on the very upper edge of its range.
“They’re about fifteen million kilometers out,” she said. “They’re coming in quietly, gliding from deep space.”
“Fifteen million kilometers from Earth?” I demanded. “That’s well beyond legal limits. They’re in violation of numerous laws.”
“Exactly. We’re fortunate in one respect, however. They’re approaching at a relatively slow pace. I don’t think they intended for us to spot them. They’re not burning their engines.”
Admiral Halsey interrupted. “We’ve done all the math. They’ll turn and perform a hard acceleration once they pass Luna. After that, they’ll be all over us.”
He touched the display controls, and the image spun. Reflecting Earth’s rotation and Luna’s orbit, time was sped up and the progress of the miner’s fleet was theoretically predicted. The red contacts slid in close, braked, and curved into a low orbit over Earth.
“How many ships?” I asked.
“Over three hundred contacts have been identified,” Cunningham said.
“Three hundred…? They can’t have that many militia ships!”
“They do. They’ve apparently converted most of their mining vessels into small warships. They’re operating as long range fighters, essentially.”
“What about our destroyers?” I demanded. “Where’s Admiral Hedon and his task force?”
Halsey swept weary eyes toward Cunningham. “That’s a good question. Perhaps you’d like to explain, Admiral?”
He crossed his arms and waited. Cunningham shook her head.
“We knew the miners were a threat. It’s been kept quiet, but over the last few months, the shipments of ore from the rocks have slowed to a standstill. So, we sent Hedon out on a patrol in force. He reached Ceres just yesterday—”
“Only to discover it was virtually empty,” Halsey finished for her. “That’s when we began looking for this incoming fleet.”
“Proving,” Cunningham said loudly, “that sending the fleet to the rocks was a wise move in the first place. We wouldn’t have known they were attacking if we hadn’t sent them.”
Halsey shook his head. “But we left Earth open in the meantime.”
Cunningham sucked in a breath and released it slowly. “Yes,” she admitted. “The question now is what to do about it.”
“The answer is obvious,” Zye said.
Everyone looked at her in surprise. I felt my face burn slightly. She wasn’t supposed to speak at such a meeting. Hell, I should have been keeping my mouth shut as well.
“Go on, Zye,” Cunningham prompted.
“We must use Defiant. There is no other effective defense. Send the battle cruiser out to stop them. Miners in converted craft won’t stand a chance against her.”
There was a certain note of pride in Zye’s voice, and I couldn’t fault her for that.
“That’s what we’ve concluded,” Cunningham said. “But the trouble is we don’t know how to fly her. Our technicians have begun the work, but to take a colonist ship into battle—we don’t have time to figure out its operation and train a crew. The flotilla from the rocks will be here in two days.”
I sensed this was my moment. I sucked in a large breath, then plunged ahead.
“Admiral,” I said. “I hereby volunteer to captain Defiant and take her into battle against the rock rat fleet.”
Everyone looked at me. None of them spoke for a moment. Even Halsey seemed impressed, if annoyed.
Halsey had clearly wanted one of his captains to command the battle cruiser. But since all his seasoned veterans were off-planet with Admiral Hedon, that wasn’t an option. They were searching the rocks for an enemy that had already left.
“And now you know why I called you here, Commander Sparhawk,” Cunningham said.
Halsey jumped back into the conversation. He appeared flustered.
“It can’t be done,” he said. “In fact, I hereby demand that Sparhawk be removed from CENTCOM entirely. His presence here is a constitutional violation.”
Everyone stared at him for a moment.
“What are you talking about, Halsey?” Cunningham asked.
“You know what I’m talking about. He’s a sitting Public Servant. It’s illegal for a Servant to hold an active military rank at the same time he’s in office. Check the amendments, if you must.”
“I don’t need to reread our constitution,” Cunningham said tightly. “I know it by heart. Sparhawk is the son of a Servant, an heir to power, yes, but—”
�
��No!” shouted Halsey suddenly. He was smiling now. “I’d hoped it wouldn’t come to this. I’d hoped you’d see reason and put one of our better men aboard Defiant. But you’ve forced my hand. I apologize for any embarrassment this may cause, but—”
“Halsey, explain yourself or shut up.”
“Very well,” he said primly. “Sparhawk’s father is ill. He is, in fact, legally in a coma at this moment. That makes Sparhawk the Younger the acting Servant.”
I swallowed hard. He was right. He was a full-fledged bastard for bringing it up, but he was right.
Cunningham turned at me, frowning. “Is this true?”
“The last time I checked with House Sparhawk, my father was in the state he describes. He is expected to recover, however. I didn’t—”
“Your family is a pack of budget-slashing, power-hungry hacks, Sparhawk!” Halsey snarled. “You can’t know how much your commission irritates the upper echelon of CENTCOM. You should have been drummed out of the Guard entirely—”
“You forget yourself, Halsey!” Cunningham barked.
Halsey shut up and glowered at the screens.
She turned to me. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I was unaware of your status. Please accept my apologies for our rudeness, but Halsey is correct. Your commission is suspended until your Father recovers. My condolences are with you and your family. Many have died in this rash of assassinations.”
Stunned, I was at a loss as to what to say. I’d been so preoccupied with Defiant, and Chloe, and everything else—I’d forgotten the rules.
They were right, of course. It was a technicality, and as far as I knew, it had never come up before. But no one could be both a supreme member of the governing body and a member of Star Guard at the same time. As I recalled from civics classes, our world leaders had specified that restriction.
The founders had formed a government from ashes after the Cataclysm, and they’d feared a military dictatorship. It had been a wise move—but right now, it was a major disappointment to me personally.
The admirals immediately fell to wrangling about who should fly Defiant instead of me. I was heartsick to hear them.
Finally, Halsey turned toward me and Zye. “Sparhawk? Are you still here? You have to leave, man. Was that somehow not made clear?”
“Yes sir,” I said.
“And on the way out, surrender that uniform—please.”
“Of course, Admiral.”
“Wait!” Cunningham said as I moved toward the exit in stunned silence.
I halted, and I dared to hope, turning back toward the group.
“We need the Beta,” she said. “Could you direct her to serve another in your stead?”
My mouth opened, and then it closed again.
“I guess—I think I could—”
“It’s the wrong decision,” Zye said to me loudly. “These officers are fools. No one knows how to command Defiant better than you do.”
“Zye,” Halsey said. “We’ll give you a commission. You’ll be an accepted officer in the fleet. What can we make her, Admiral? A lieutenant? It’s a battlefield promotion, after all.”
“I suppose,” Cunningham said. She wasn’t looking at me any longer. She sounded disappointed.
Halsey, on the other hand, seemed almost gleeful. He threw out a half-dozen names. All of them were favored staffers of his, I had no doubt.
Right then, I realized I had a very difficult decision to make. During the span of several thoughtful seconds I made a choice, and I told myself I could never look back.
“Admiral?” I asked, stepping up to Cunningham and standing at attention.
“What is it, Sparhawk?” she asked. “We’re very busy here.”
“Madam, I could do a lot of good for the navy as a Servant,” I said. “I could help secure the emergency budget you need. But that’s a long term solution to Earth’s problems.”
“Could you get to the point, son?” Halsey demanded. He was glowering at me again. “And then get out?”
Admiral Cunningham raised her hand, halting Halsey’s attack.
“Go on,” she said to me.
“I think I can do more for the war effort directly, right now. After careful consideration, I’ve decided to serve the Guard rather than the public at large. I hereby resign my seat in the Ministry, effective immediately. I’m no longer a Public Servant. I’m now willing and able to serve the Guard in whatever capacity the Admiralty sees fit.”
They all stared at me. Halsey’s jaw hung low. Taranto was noticeably angry.
Only Admiral Cunningham smiled. It was the first time I’d seen her do so since I’d arrived.
“I accept your generous offer, Lieutenant Commander,” she said. “You are hereby directed to take the sky-lift up to Defiant and take command of her. You’ll be relieving—”
“Think, man!” Halsey interrupted. “You’re giving up your father’s seat? House Sparhawk will crumble!”
I didn’t even look at him. “Admiral Halsey, if you value my father’s seat so highly, you can run for it yourself in the elections next spring.”
There were a few rude laughs from the assembled officers. Halsey reddened, and I knew I hadn’t made a friend. But then again, I sensed he was never going to be my friend anyway.
“William Sparhawk, I hereby promote you to the rank of Captain,” Admiral Cunningham said gravely. “Your new rank comes with all the honors, responsibilities, and prerequisites thus granted.”
“Thank you, Admiral. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must stop an invasion.”
I turned on one heel and walked smartly away. Zye followed me closely.
“That was strange,” she said in a whisper. “I can’t imagine that level of disagreement and discord in a similar meeting among Alphas. They would most likely all agree on the best course. And if our written rules threatened our survival—we’d change them immediately and unanimously.”
Nodding, I understood her bewilderment. “You see, Zye, Earthlings don’t always get along. Not even with our closest comrades. But at times strength can be found in arguments. When a set of conflicting ideas is presented to a group, they will often choose the best option in the end.”
“Yes Captain. I see your point, they chose you and that was the best option.”
That hadn’t been what I was getting at, but I liked her conclusion, so I didn’t argue with it.
“In this instance Zye, I hope you’re right for all our sakes.”
-44-
We traveled to the base of the sky-lift then rode upward in the first available car. Strangely, the entire platform was vacant except for a few other uniformed guardsmen.
As the ride took several minutes, I decided to take the opportunity to talk to the other passengers.
“Zye, could you stay here by the window, please?”
“Certainly,” she said. “You can’t get far in this contrivance.”
I walked away from her, but then I glanced back. Sometimes, her attitude was improper, in my opinion. She seemed to view me as some kind of infant in constant need of care.
“Gentlemen,” I said to a trio of officers. “I couldn’t help but notice we’re the only personnel aboard the sky-lift. I can only assume the station has been closed to civilians, is that right?”
The group looked me over briefly. The leader among them was a commander named Durris.
“That’s right,” Commander Durris said. “We’re on our way up to man that wreck of a battle cruiser, if you can believe that.”
“Really? Is it ready to fly?”
He snorted. “No. Not if half of what I hear is accurate. It was damaged or something on the way to Earth. What’s the point of even trying to fly an alien ship into battle against a pack of rabble? That’s what I want to know. A team of pinnaces could clean up these rats in twenty minutes.”
I nodded gravely. It was always good to hear honest words from new crewmen before they knew who they were talking to. My cloak had covered up my nametag, but not my rank which
rode on my cap. The rank was incorrect, of course, as I hadn’t had time to refit myself. I’d planned on doing so when I reached the station.
“Go on,” I said, “I happen to be assigned to the same ship.”
Durris leaned toward me conspiratorially. “That’s not the worst of it. From what I hear, they just assigned a green captain to command her. Talk about a waste of talent. They might as well leave us here on the station, swabbing the decks with the yard-dogs and bots.”
“An interesting situation,” I said. “Do you know what’s wrong with the ship?”
“Not really. I’ve just heard that they can’t get it to fly. Not at all. The computer is locked up or something.”
I frowned. I’d flown Defiant without difficulties. Sure, we’d been hit hard and suffered damage, but the ship had been left space-worthy.
Zye took that opportunity to walk up and join the group. The officers gaped. Apparently, they hadn’t seen her full size until now. She’d been sitting next to me near the glass.
“Gentlemen,” I said with a sweep of my arm. “Allow me to introduce one of my bridge officers. This is Lieutenant Zye—newly commissioned.”
“She’s—you’re the Beta, aren’t you?”
“She is indeed a Beta,” I said. “She’ll get this ship flying, rest assured.”
They looked at me again with a new expression. “You’re Sparhawk?” Commander Durris asked.
“Yes. I’m Captain Sparhawk—newly promoted. When you get to the station, gentlemen, don’t dawdle in a bar. We’re leaving within three hours after arrival. I want all hands aboard and ready to fly her.”
“Yes…yes, sir!” they stammered. After that, they quickly retreated.
Zye looked at me with a glow of pride on her face. “I see that I have had some positive influence on you. Your deception was admirable.” She nodded with approval.
The lift was reaching its apogee. Zye stared upward as the station loomed. This time, we were entirely within the shadow of Earth, and the station was as black as pitch. Only a few running lights outlined the hulking form.
