CHAPTER 22
Lige's fleet fired through the correspondence planes, instantly appearing before the UDA's navy headquarters. Tycho Central, a sprawling space station built in the 2060's, orbited Earth at a thousand kilometers. It housed over six million administrators, techs and programmers who ran the UDA Navy. Lige's fleet ships beamed tracking lasers to automatically dock the ships at available ports.
Lige exited Black Mariah through a long glasteel tube into Tycho Central. Stepping through the second airlock, Lige was nearly assaulted by a crush of media agents. The throng pushed Lige back into the airlock. Jaret burst forward and physically pushed the crowd back, “Every man and woman out of this exit area. Form a line on both sides of the Yellow. Now.”
The media continued to push and Jaret quickly called two body tank troops forward to bulldoze them back without delicacy. Lige ignored the shouts and lights and made his way directly to the office of the Grand Admiral. The huge reception area for the Grand Admiral was done in pristine white marble. Lige snapped to attention in front of the thin, young female soldier/receptionist. “Admiral Lige, reporting battle outcome. Request to report directly to the Grand Admiral.”
The receptionist rose and saluted Lige, flashing him an inviting smile. “The Grand Admiral is in conference, Admiral. He will be able to see you in twenty minutes.”
Lige lowered his arm from the salute but otherwise remained at rigid attention. Jaret stood slightly behind in the same fashion. A few envoys came in with reports and statements for the soldier/receptionist before the large iron doors rolled open twenty minutes later. Grand Admiral Ramus strolled out. He was a barrel-chested man with thick brown hair and a healthy beard to match. He looked at Lige, turned and strolled back into his office. Lige followed and Jaret remained in the white marble reception area.
The Grand Admiral's office was twice the size of the reception area. Curiously, the office contained nothing more than three seats facing a large black oak desk. There was tension between the two men. Ramus was quite aware of Lige's talent and ambitions. He had never been able to get Lige quite under control. In turn, Lige reveled in his ability to complete an assigned task in any manner other than how he was ordered. Lige's saving grace was a penchant for raw success.
Lige began slowly, “My intelligence network gave me a lead on a possible location of the Steel Circle. I fired my fleet to the suspected location and indeed the lead was correct. We engaged 30 lodge ships and 620 outrider ships. The battle window was small, only three to six minutes of engagement, so I elected to try a new tactic. I used our Hellfire weapon. An unknown dependency allowed the AC deflector ships to send a Hellfire beam back destroying nine prime ships. Over seven hundred troops gave their lives in the line of duty. The loss was devastating and my fleet was forced to retreat. One prime ship had to be left behind because it was flanked.”
Ramus stood. He had to concentrate to keep a smile from creeping across his face. Seven hundred of his troops were dead and Ramus could not think of the last time he had received such wonderful news. “How long does it take to build a standard prime ship, Admiral Lige?”
“Six to eighteen months, sir.”
“Why didn't you call in reinforcements before you fired to the Steel Circle location?”
“I was not sure of the intelligence source and I know the other Admirals all have important objectives to attain. I did not wish to lead any of them on a feral goose pursuit.”
“If you were not sure of the intelligence then why would you take your entire fleet in?”
“I had a strong premonition, Grand Admiral.”
Ramus walked out from behind his desk and circled behind Lige. Lige did not turn to watch him. “So, you engaged every ship in the AC with out calling for reinforcement ships. Once you engaged their ships you failed tactically, allowing the AC to destroy nine prime ships and kill seven hundred UDA soldiers. And while you retreated a prime ship had to be left behind. Probably already captured by the AC. Am I correct, Admiral?”
“You are correct, Grand Admiral.”
Ramus could hardly contain himself. “Lige, you have been successful for quite some time. But as I have told you before the risks you insist on taking cannot be maintained successfully over an extended period of time. I must exact a strict punishment for your failure. I believe I know what will be appropriate. A loss of this magnitude must be reported to two Race Reps as well as the President. Why don't we make that report now? You can answer the Race Reps questions yourself.” Ramus sat at his desk and keyed a channel to his receptionist. “I need an Alpha Grade system link to Sullivan, Cruz and Dresden.”
There was an uncomfortable moment while the two waited for the link-up. They both walked to the far wall screen. The faces of the Race Reps loomed in front of them. President Sullivan appeared to be in the lobby of an art theater. Joyce Dresden, and attractive middle-aged African woman was on the ski slopes of Vail. Manuel Cruz, a young dashing Hispanic, was seated at a magnificent antique desk.
The Grand Admiral stepped forward and as he opened his mouth Lige interjected, “President Sullivan, I apologize that I have not been able to tell you sooner but my men were successful. Alexa is safe aboard The Black Mariah and she is very eager to see you.”
Sullivan's face changed instantly from annoyance at this interruption to sheer joy. He put his hand over his mouth and turned from the remote camera. “Thank you, Lige. Thank you. Please keep her aboard your ship. I will come to get her myself.”
Race Rep Joyce Dresden smiled. “All hail the conquering hero.”
Ramus was aghast.
Lige fielded Dresden's comment. “No, Madam Representative, I am afraid that the return of the president’s daughter is the only good news. I regret to report that I lost nine prime ships and seven hundred men as I engaged the AmerIndian Confederacy fleet in the Periphery.”
Cruz interjected, “How were you able to find the AC?”
“Decker, sir. He is my best intelligence operative. I believe he has handled some matters for your staff on occasion.”
Lige watched as Cruz mentally took note of the name. Lige was sure Decker would be transferred directly to Cruz's own intelligence staff soon.
“What happened?” Dresden asked.
“My fleet came in suspecting to find nothing and we fired to a point almost too far to intercept the lodge ships. I gambled and tried a new tactic developed by Team Omega, Representative Dresden.”
Dresden sat forward. “Team Omega my all woman strategy team? I assembled them over a year ago and have been promoting their work for the new UDA navy every since. Their proposed strategies are completely askew from those put forward by the traditionally male-dominated strategy teams.”
Lige continued as Ramus simply gaped, “I'm sorry, Representative Dresden. Team Omega's strategy was sound. I failed to execute it properly. We lost nine prime ships in all because I was not able to properly implement what was obviously a well-developed tactic. I have prepared my first officer and my ships are ready for new fleet assignments. I submit myself for martial punishment.”
Dresden shook her head. “Nonsense, Admiral Lige. You are the best admiral the UDA navy has, without peer. We need you out there. You are the only male admiral who has reported even attempting to use the new Team Omega strategies. I understand there will be some growing pains with their initial use. But I refuse to see you punished for showing some imagination. Don't let the loss slow you down. I am confident you can use the same ingenuity you used to find the AC this time to find them again.”
Cruz added, “But this time, Lige, don't go charging off by yourself. Enlist the aid of your fellow admirals. A lone wolf cannot lead the pack.”
Sullivan added almost as an afterthought, “Was there anything else, Grand Admiral Ramus?”
Ramus remained speechless. “No, no, President. Nothing else.”
While Ramus had not been bright enough to avoid walking head long into Lige's ambush, he knew any further attempt to
discredit Lige at this point would only show himself in a bad light to the gathered dignitaries.
As if laying one last slap across Ramus's face, Dresden added, “Grand Admiral, please pull premium ships from the Targas fleet to replenish Lige’s fleet.”
Lige interjected, “Actually, Representative Dresden, I would prefer to relinquish a few ships. I would like to test Team Omega Theorem 111, 'Efficiency at any price.'“
“What exactly do you mean, Lige?”
“Well President Dresden, I-” Lige was briefly interrupted by Sullivan logging off. Lige was confident that the President was eager to get on a shuttle to Black Mariah to see his daughter, Alexa. Lige started again, “I wish to reduce my fleet to four hundred prime ships from nine hundred. I have several methods I will employ to cut the fat.”
Cruz perked up at this. “You propose to show superior performance with a smaller fleet?”
Lige answered, “That is exactly what I propose, President Cruz. I believe the new theorem is correct and I plan to implement many more Team Omega changes.”
Dresden beamed.
Cruz laughed, “Imagine that, an admiral that says he can do more with less. I hope you have a few more like Lige in the pipe, Grand Admiral Ramus. We could use them in this damnable war against the AC.”
Ramus could not contain himself, “I'm sorry, Representative but there is no one else in my command like Lige.” He forced a smile.
Cruz began to terminate the call, “Battles are lost on occasion, Admiral Lige. But you can win this war. Superb work on returning Alexa. We were all worried.”
Dresden cut in, “I will forward you the rough draft of the latest theorem of Team Omega, Lige. Don't wait so long for your next visit to Tycho.”
Both screen bubbles were replaced with the UDA sigil. Lige returned to his rigid stand of attention. Ramus circled in front of him, intending to launch a tirade. Instead, he stuttered and simply spat, “Dismissed.”
Lige walked steadily to the double doors. As the distance between the two men widened, Lige was struck by the fact that he had inflamed a powerful enemy this day.
“Now before we were so rudely interrupted…” John started.
Tribals on all of the lodge ships laughed. They were in good spirits. The AmerIndian Confederacy had just laid down a cargo bay worth of defeat on the UDA and Celetain had once again proven to be a formidable prophet. The Haida held Celetain's prophecy as an important event, for it aided in quieting Cybershamanism’s detractors. It was clear to most tribals that Celetain was something more than a traditional Shaman. Even the tribes that held strictly to the tenets of science (the Tsimshian, in particular) now had members excited by the power of the Celetain's prophecy. Even if they thought Celetain's prophecy was a parlor trick, it was spectacular nonetheless.
“Wovoka has been declared the White Buffalo and we are at war. The Elders Council has weighed the proposal set before us by Celetain. We were faced with the decision to seize the moment and invade Naanac, a planet that will be a challenge to live on. I know some of you believe a decision to follow Celetain’s prophecy will scatter our plans for invasion of White Earth to the four winds. Some of you are asking - is there still a way to play cautious, take the victory we have gained this day against the UDA fleet, and move forward on White Earth. The Council considered these elements and has decided to invade Naanac and abandon our hopes of capturing White Earth.”
A cacophony answered John 's announcements. Half the tribals applauded and half shouted questions and harangues. John set his eyes on all of the tribals before him. His image was carried by hard light displays to the other lodge ships.
The din died down and John continued. “The Elders know this decision is sudden. We regret we did not have time to put this up for discussion before all the tribes. We have spoken to every chief and have listened to your concerns.”
“You have ignored our concerns,” Brule Chief Satyr shouted. He was an ancient warrior, now over nine decades old. Satyr showed the clear features of pure AmerIndian heritage.
Stormseeker stood, “We have not ignored your words, Chief Satyr. You know as well as I do that the AmerIndian Confederacy’s strength lies in speed and unpredictability. The Brule must put aside their angers from the White Earth Massacre. There will be plenty of battle at Naanac and I assure you that all the UDA’s hated admirals - Lige, Crelland and Farlec - will be there.”
Coganthan, chief of the Apache, stood. “I hear your apprehension, Brule brother, but the time is now. There are too many signs, foretold by the wise and powerful Celetain Prax, to ignore the fact that this is the critical moment. The Apache tribe supports the Elders in their decision.”
Chiefs of the Zuni, Kichai and Diegueño all echoed Coganthan's sentiment. Satyr was undeterred.
“The Brule have left too much blood on the soil of White Earth to turn away and follow a boy to win a swamp. We refuse to acknowledge Wovoka as the White Buffalo. This whelp is barely a man. The Brule stand in defiance of the Elders’ decision.”
A hush came across every lodge ship except the Brule's who roared in support of Chief Satyr.
Stormseeker pointed. “How dare you-”
Wovoka stepped forward and raised his hand to Stormseeker. “I am not the White Buffalo at my choice or yours, Satyr. I am the White Buffalo because it is what the Grandfather's have shown the Elder Shaman. You do not have the wisdom of the Grandfathers. I call your people to war and if you as their chief will not have them follow me then I will take your chiefdom from you.”
“There is only one way to settle a challenge to my leadership, boy, and that's the Brule way, the Way of Blood.”
“The Way of Blood is fine, old dog.”
“I will choose my champion, Wovoka. Best him and you will have chiefdom over the Brule.”
“And the Brule will follow me as chief the way you have followed the Elders?” Wovoka asked.
Satyr looked struck. He had been a loyal servant of the AC for many years. It was obvious that even in his defiance he did not like to be called disloyal. He looked behind him at his assistants and advisors. He told them with a look that they would make his following statement true. “No Wovoka, Infiltrator Pack Alpha of the Apache, they will follow you.”
“Then so be it. I will win your chiefdom and we will be done with this delay. But Satyr, I am the White Buffalo, and I intend to show you that. Do not pick a champion; pick three. Every Brule must know that I have the strength of the Grandfathers. Choose quickly. I will be on your ship in five minutes.”
With that Wovoka walked off the center dais, heading in the direction of the hangar bay, leaving the Elders behind.
“Wovoka, are you sure this is the best course of action? The rattlesnake does not eat three eggs at once.” Keokuk said with a grin as he nearly jogged to keep up with his brother.
Wovoka whispered, “I hope it is. If the Grandfathers have chosen me, I will not fail. If I have not been chosen by the Grandfathers that will soon be apparent to everyone.”
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