by Ryk Brown
“Gil Roselle has always been a wild card,” Admiral Galiardi admitted. “That’s why he was given a scout ship instead of a warship. I should have replaced him the moment I was reinstated. I should have replaced all of them on day one.”
Admiral Cheggis looked confused.
“Robert Nash is missing,” Commander Macklay added, for Admiral Cheggis’s benefit.
“What?”
“He left his ship five days ago,” the commander continued.
“Why the hell didn’t his XO report it?” Admiral Cheggis wondered.
“Nash gave his XO some bullshit about being on a top secret assignment,” Admiral Galiardi explained. “Ordered him to go dark, like he was chasing a sensor contact.”
“You think he was in on the Kohara raid, as well?” Admiral Cheggis asked.
“He and Roselle go way back,” Commander Macklay told the admiral. “And he made several trips to Kohara, at the same time that Roselle was there visiting his girlfriend.”
Admiral Galiardi sighed in resignation. “We’ll give the Cetians what they want,” he decided. “The whole crew.”
“Half the Benakh’s crew is Terran, Gil,” Admiral Cheggis reminded him. “That’s going to put the Benakh at a pretty steep operational disadvantage for at least a few weeks.”
“It can’t be helped,” Admiral Galiardi said. “All of our destroyers are built in the Cetian system, and the Trinidad is still four months from trials. Three destroyers will come out of the Cetian shipyards by then. The last thing we need is a work slowdown at that shipyard. If anything, we need them to speed up production.”
“I may have a better idea,” Commander Macklay said rather sheepishly.
Both admirals looked at the commander.
“Send the Cape Town to the Tau Ceti system, and move the Benakh here.”
“Are you crazy?” Admiral Cheggis wondered.
“It makes sense,” Commander Macklay defended. “After all, Stettner is their golden boy.”
“That doesn’t solve the crew problem,” Cheggis argued.
“Actually, it does. Move all the Cetians from the Benakh to the Cape Town, and all the Terrans from the Cape Town to the Benakh. The Cape Town is far more automated, and can operate quite well with only two shifts. So she won’t suffer operationally while she’s retraining her new crew. And just think how happy the Cetians will be with a protector-class ship parked in their system. One commanded and crewed by nothing but their own people.”
“He’s got a point,” Admiral Galiardi admitted.
“But the Cetians don’t have the facilities to service the Cape Town,” Admiral Cheggis reminded them.
“She’s brand new,” Commander Macklay replied. “By the time she needs servicing, they likely will.”
“And if the Jung attack Earth?” Admiral Cheggis asked.
“Tau Ceti is a single jump away,” Commander Macklay pointed out. “And we’ve got a boatload of jump missiles here to hold the Jung at bay until the Cape Town arrives.”
Admiral Galiardi looked at Admiral Cheggis. “I kind of like the idea,” he admitted. “It would make the Cetians awfully happy, and we need them more than any other system right now.”
“It’s going to piss off our people, though,” Admiral Cheggis argued. “And you’re going to lose support if you give up such a big asset.”
“I’ll lose even more support if we lose our Cetian allies,” Admiral Galiardi retorted. He turned to look at Commander Macklay. “Any progress on those battle-cam videos?”
“Roselle knew what he was doing,” the commander replied. “He disabled every camera on the base. The only recordings we got from them were about the last five minutes of the battle. And most of the helmet-cam videos were from too far away to ID anyone. However, we were able to confirm the attackers were wearing, what appeared to be, Ghatazhak body armor.”
“Are you sure about that?” Admiral Galiardi asked.
“There were some differences, possibly some upgrades, or something, but they were Ghatazhak. They were terribly precise, and extremely well-trained. The only reason we were able to keep them from stealing every damned gunship on the line was because our marines had overwhelming numbers on their side.”
Admiral Galiardi did not appear pleased. “The president is going to play this for all it’s worth. He’s going to call for a public outcry to support the Karuzari in the Pentaurus sector, even if it means stripping our own defenses to do so.”
“Your supporters won’t stand for it,” Admiral Cheggis insisted.
“No, they won’t,” Admiral Galiardi agreed. “And neither will I.”
“It’s going to get ugly,” Commander Macklay warned. “If you oppose President Scott publicly, there’s going to be fallout.”
“It will be a lot worse if I don’t oppose him,” the admiral insisted. “Have you forgotten that we had Jung ships just outside our own system just a few weeks ago? Does anyone really think that won’t happen again?” The admiral thought for a moment. “No, this is when we must stand strong. We must show the people we will not yield to political pressure when the safety and security of our world hangs in the balance.”
“The media is going to accuse you of being too aggressive,” Admiral Cheggis warned.
“It won’t be the first time.”
“Scott will publicly admonish you,” Commander Macklay said.
“He can admonish me all he wants,” Admiral Galiardi said dismissively. “I’m not going to let another stuffed shirt prevent me from doing my job. Not again.”
* * *
Jessica and Robert strode toward Nathan from the starboard side, just forward of the Seiiki’s airlock berth.
“What was that all about?” Jessica asked, noticing both the look on Nathan’s face, and General Telles walking away.
“I don’t think he liked me questioning his order to use deadly force,” Nathan replied.
“Can you blame him?”
Nathan looked at Jessica, confused.
“The guy has been through ten years of highly specialized, extremely intense training, spent five years in service of that nutball Caius, a year helping us liberate Earth and the core, and then the last seven years keeping his people alive, so he could be there to protect you when needed.” Jessica shook her head in disbelief. “If I were him, I would have knocked your ass out,” she added, continuing past Nathan in an attempt to catch up to the general.
Nathan looked at Robert. “I’ve been back for five minutes, and I’ve already pissed off two of my favorite people.”
“Wanna try for three?” Robert joked.
“No thanks.” Nathan sighed. “I guess I’m still trying to figure out where I fit into all of this.”
“What do you mean?” Robert wondered.
“At first, I thought I would be more of a recruitment tool. You know, using the whole Na-Tan thing to convince people to join the cause. I fully expected to be doing my part, and fighting alongside everyone else. I just didn’t really expect to be in command of all this again.”
“Seriously?”
Nathan looked at Robert, confused again.
“Come on, Nathan. Leading is what you do. It’s what everyone in your family does. It’s what you are good at. Please, tell me this isn’t going to take you as long to accept as it did last time.” Robert walked away, also shaking his head.
Nathan sighed. That’s three, he thought.
“Glad to see you made it back alive,” Cameron commented as she walked past Robert, heading for Nathan. “Based on the amount of damage some of your gunships have sustained, I’m guessing it wasn’t a cakewalk.”
“Not in the slightest.”
“How bad?”
“Ghatazhak had fourteen KIA, and four wounded.”
“That would explain the look on Telles’s face.”
“We lost all six Rakers, as well,” Nathan added.
“Any of the pilots make it?”
“None that we know of.”
A c
oncerned look came over Cameron’s face. “Who are those people?” she asked, pointing behind Nathan.
Nathan turned around and spotted Aiden and his crew walking toward them, along with the two pilots from the other gunship who had agreed to join them. “Volunteers from Kohara.”
“What?”
“We should probably detain them for now,” Nathan said.
Cameron turned toward the nearest senior chief working the hangar deck. “Senior Chief!” she called out.
The senior chief turned to make eye contact with his captain, immediately recognizing her hand signals.
Cameron tapped her comm-set. “Security, Captain. I need an armed escort team to the hangar deck…now.”
“On the way, Captain.”
Nathan began walking toward the approaching group, which was being followed by the two Ghatazhak soldiers who had ridden with the two gunships on the way back. “Why don’t you all hold up right here for a moment,” he suggested, raising his hands to signal them to stop. He nodded to the two Ghatazhak soldiers following behind the group, both of whom immediately stepped back, spreading to either side behind the group, raising their weapons in readiness.
“Is something wrong?” Aiden asked, noticing the look on Nathan’s face. He then noticed Cameron, and snapped to attention. “Captain,” he said, raising his hand in salute. “Ensign Aiden Walsh, commanding officer of Cobra Three Eight Three, requesting permission to come aboard.”
Cameron returned the ensign’s salute as she spoke to Nathan. “What the hell is going on, Nathan?”
“My crew and I wish to join your ranks, sir,” Aiden continued. “As do Ensigns Tegg and Wabash of Cobra Three Eight Two,” he added, gesturing toward Charnelle and Sari to his right.
“Nathan?” Cameron repeated, seeking an explanation.
“Like I said, these people volunteered to add their gunships to our forces,” Nathan explained. “In fact, this young man saved our asses, with a slightly psychotic maneuver.”
A team of four security officers, each of them armed with energy rifles, came jogging across the hangar deck, surrounding the group of Koharans.
“What’s going on, sir?” Aiden asked Nathan. “Are we under arrest, or something?”
“We need to detain all of you for awhile,” Nathan explained. “Until we can be certain of your intentions.”
“I assure you, sir, we have no ill intentions. We just want to help…to follow you.”
“I appreciate that,” Nathan replied. “But you must understand that we cannot be too careful. Any one of you could be a spy, yourself included. And the rather abrupt way you volunteered your services, I’m not so sure your crew agreed with your decision.”
“We talked it out on the way back, sir. They’re with me on this.”
“I’m not,” Chief Benetti mumbled. She suddenly realized she had spoken too loudly. “Well, I wasn’t, at first… Hell, I don’t know. I still think this is all crazy, but it’s not like I have much choice.”
“I have no control over the matter,” Nathan insisted. “You will all have to go through medical and security screening, before we can allow you to join our ranks. Until that time, you will be detained.”
“You just said we saved your ass, sir,” Aiden began to protest.
“And I greatly appreciate it,” Nathan assured him. “But I would be remiss were I not to follow procedure here. You will all be made comfortable during your confinement, I assure you. The process should not take more than…” Nathan turned, looking to Cameron for an answer.
“A day or two, at the most,” Cameron said.
“You see? No time at all.” Nathan offered them a reassuring smile as he continued. “Just follow these gentlemen to your quarters. I’m sure you’d all like to get cleaned up, change your clothes, and get some real food.”
“I just want a real bed,” Ali muttered.
“That, too,” Nathan said.
“As you wish, sir,” Aiden said, resigning them to the inevitable.
“Lieutenant,” Cameron said to the officer leading the security team. “Escort these people to section one four, deck E. There should be enough empty cabins there to house them. Get them whatever they need, but restrict them to their quarters until Lieutenant Commander Shinoda clears them.”
“Understood, sir,” the lieutenant replied smartly. He turned to Aiden and his group. “If you’ll please follow me.”
Aiden looked at the lieutenant, then Cameron and Nathan.
“I’ll be down to speak to you myself in a few hours,” Nathan assured Aiden. “And thank you.”
Aiden nodded respectfully, then turned to his crew. “You heard the man, people. Follow the lieutenant.”
Nathan watched as the lieutenant and his security team led the group of young Koharans forward.
“I told you this was a bad idea,” Chief Benetti muttered as they walked away.
The two Ghatazhak followed the Koharans, nodding respectfully to Nathan and Cameron as they passed.
Cameron watched them walk past, then turned to Nathan. “I can’t wait to hear all about this.”
* * *
The door to the room Birk and Cuddy had spent the past week working in opened, revealing the smiling face of their leader, Michael Willard.
Cuddy looked at Michael, then at Birk.
“Why are you smiling?” Birk asked Michael. “You never smile.”
“It worked?” Cuddy asked.
“It did indeed,” Michael replied.
“Are you sure?” Birk wondered.
“We had people place calls from multiple locations, using suspicious dialogs designed to pique the Dusahn’s interest, if they were able to intercept. If the Dusahn heard the calls, they would have responded to the fake intelligence,” Michael explained. “We also noticed no discernible changes in network traffic patterns that might indicate an intercept. Thanks to you two, I believe we now have a secure method by which our resistance cells may communicate.”
“Great,” Cuddy replied, feeling somewhat relieved.
“Especially since we’ve been cobbling together all these comm-units for the last five days,” Birk added.
“What about secure to unsecure?” Cuddy asked.
“We tested that, as well,” Michael assured him. “As long as a secure communications device is initiating the call, the routing codes will be scrambled, so they are untraceable. However, the conversation will not be encrypted.”
“Does this mean we can call home now?” Cuddy asked.
“Indeed it does,” Michael replied. “However, you cannot tell anyone what you are doing, or where you are.”
Cuddy looked at Birk.
“What are we supposed to tell our families?” Birk asked.
“We have prepared a cover story for you both,” Michael explained as he handed his data pad to Birk. “One that will not raise any suspicions, and should put your parents at ease.”
Birk looked at the data pad. “Internships?” he said, surprised. “You want us to tell them we got internships?”
“The school the two of you were attending will be closed for several months, until they repair the damage sustained during the initial Dusahn invasion,” Michael explained. “It seems only logical that you might seek out a useful way to spend your time until your school reopens.”
“That’ll probably work for Cuddy’s parents,” Birk said, “but mine are going to find it pretty hard to believe.”
“Just tell them that Cuddy got you the job.”
“Are these paid internships?” Cuddy wondered. “Because my parents are going to want to know why I gave up my part-time job.”
“Room and board, and a small monthly stipend,” Michael replied. “But I’m afraid you will have to give up your current residence.”
“What about all our stuff?” Birk wondered.
“We will send someone to retrieve your belongings, and to notify your landlord that you will be vacating the premises.”
“We still have three mo
nths left on the lease,” Cuddy said. “They’re going to charge us for it.”
“The Dusahn have declared all such contracts null and void, to make it easier for Corinair’s economy to recover from the interruption.”
“How nice of them,” Birk commented.
“What if our parents try to contact us at this Kinloch Tech?” Birk asked, looking back at the data pad.
“The company is owned by someone who supports our cause. He arranged your cover for us. If anyone calls looking for you, they will take a message, which will end up on your personal, secure comm-units.”
“Won’t someone at Kinloch wonder why they never see us around the office?” Birk asked, finding the whole thing too easy.
“Kinloch Tech is a large company, with several hundred employees, many of whom work in the field and rarely come to the main office,” Michael assured him. “No suspicions will be raised.”
“Great,” Birk said. “My dad will be pleased I’m doing something constructive with my free time. He won’t believe it,” he added, looking at Cuddy, “but he’ll be happy.”
“How soon can we call them?” Cuddy asked.
“Immediately,” Michael replied. “However, I would like to ask you a question first.”
“Sure,” Cuddy said.
“Do you think you can make the same algorithm work between a surface-based comm-unit, and a ship in space?”
Cuddy thought for a moment. “I guess.”
“It would depend on where the ship was,” Birk added. “In orbit over Corinair, no problem. Ships in orbit use the comm-nets all the time.”
“What about ships elsewhere in the Darvano system?” Michael asked.
Birk scratched his head, thinking. “Direct link, or general broadcast?”
“General broadcast, I’m afraid.”
“That’s going to be a bit harder,” Birk warned.
* * *
“They look like a bunch of teenagers,” Cameron declared as she and Nathan headed up the ramp to the Aurora’s command deck. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“I was thinking it would be nice to get two more gunships than we had planned, not to mention crews to fly them,” Nathan defended.
“Seriously?” Cameron cast a look of disbelief in Nathan’s direction as they reached the top of the ramp.
