“I’m the senior communications officer, sir. I arrived last night.”
David took a seat at a console to the left of the communications station. “I see. I was assigned yesterday as well.”
“Yes, sir. We’re receiving a lot of transfer paperwork. Seems like the brass is staffing up the ship quickly.”
“I haven’t been able to review the service jackets of the senior personnel yet because of the volume. Got to love that one of the few constants in the universe is paperwork in the government.”
Taylor chuckled politely. “Of course, sir.”
Determined to draw something more than small talk out of the young man, David persisted. “So, tell me something about yourself that I won’t find in your service jacket, Lieutenant.”
“Um, well, sir... I like to work on unbreakable cryptology problems in my spare time.”
David smiled. Hanson will like this guy. Natural-born nerd. “Okay, well, here’s one that is in your service jacket… What’s your first name?”
Taylor turned a few shades of red. “Robert, sir. Robert Taylor.”
“Pleased to meet you. I’m David Cohen.”
“Sir, is it true you rammed an enemy ship in your last combat? We’ve heard a lot of scuttlebutt.”
“Yes, it is. We rammed an enemy frigate, disabling it and saving a convoy of civilians from the League.”
“That’s impressive, sir. I wish I could have been there.”
“Lieutenant, it was a desperate action that cost seventy-eight people on my crew their lives, but it was a gamble that succeeded. One thing it was not was impressive. And should you find yourself in a command position someday, remember that we hold the lives of those we lead in our hands. That is an awesome responsibility that should never be taken for granted.”
Taylor gulped. “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t realize.”
“Nothing to be sorry about, Lieutenant.” David felt his own face warm. He’d known as soon as he finished saying it that he shouldn’t have laid into the young man quite so hard. “To be clear, I’m not planning on ever ramming this ship into anything,” he finished, trying to lighten the conversation.
A grin eased its way onto Taylor’s face. “Well, at least if you rammed a frigate with this ship… it’d be like smearing a bug on a windshield.”
“That’s the spirit, Lieutenant.”
Just as David was about to take his leave, Taylor’s comm unit went off. “Rob, you won’t believe this!” Before Taylor could turn it off, the man continued. “I just heard a rumor that the League wants to talk peace! They sent a message to our government!”
Bewildered, David asked, “Lieutenant, do we get Canaan News Network up here?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Pull it up, please. Maybe this rumor is on the news.”
* * *
Justin Spencer, the president of the Terran Coalition, waited outside the richly adorned conference room within the Canaan primary government center. Watching his ministers, leading generals, and advisors walk in and take their seats, he ran the events of the last several hours through his mind for the millionth time. Spencer had been elected five and a half years prior and was a member of the Liberal party. A former fighter pilot, he’d served first as a reservist then on active duty during the opening years of the war.
The Liberals were known by different names on different planets in the coalition. On the British worlds, they were called the Conservatives or Tories. On the American planets, they were known as Republicans. Overall, the Liberals were the largest center-right party within the Terran Coalition.
Spencer had replaced the previous president, who was a member of the Liberal-Democrats, which was the largest center-left party. The Terran Coalition had numerous splinter parties, and neither of the mainstream parties could govern without a broad coalition. For many years after the start of the war, broad consensus had produced unity governments. Over the last ten years, that consensus had collapsed. The Left favored limited military engagement with a focus on diplomatically ending the war, while the Right favored increased military spending, a buildup of the fleet, and a policy of unconditional surrender by the League as the only acceptable end to the war. Spencer’s coalition was made up of numerous center-right political organizations, including Likud from New Israel, and the United Arab League from New Arabia. Spencer strongly favored building up the Coalition Defense Force, and it was his leadership that provided a nearly unlimited stream of funds for the Victory Project. It didn’t hurt that Spencer had served with General MacIntosh when they were both young officers.
As the last invited member of the meeting took a seat, Spencer strode into the room. Immediately, everyone stood as a sign of respect for the office of the president.
“Ladies, gentlemen, please be seated.” Spencer was known for being a bit of a cowboy. He wasn’t afraid to say what he meant or shoot from the hip. Taking his seat next to Secretary of Defense Dunleavy, he nodded to begin.
“Mr. President, Generals. I have asked for this meeting to discuss a new development in the war.” Dunleavy paused. “Earlier this morning, we received this communiqué from the League.” He pressed a button on his tablet, and the message appeared on the tablets of all in the room as well as the holographic projector at the back.
Spencer looked up from it after a moment, his eyes wide. “A peace proposal with a joint offer to the Saurians? But they’ve been steadily pushing us back with this new spring offensive, as they keep calling it.”
Barton leaned forward, a slight smile forming. “I think this is the opening we’ve all been waiting for, gentlemen. Mr. President, I suggest we act on this proposal as soon as possible.”
MacIntosh’s face turned red as he listened to Barton’s comments. “General, Mr. President, we cannot afford to look weak in the face of this offer. We must listen to what they have to say, but we cannot just give them whatever they want.”
“Mr. President, I’m torn on this issue. While victory has been the goal of the Coalition Defense Force for the last twenty-seven years, an honorable peace that preserves our territory and returns the border planets lost to us is acceptable to me. I cannot stress enough, however, that I view any peace offering from the League with some measure of skepticism. We must consider, in my opinion, this offer to be a ruse until proven otherwise,” Dunleavy replied.
“That kind of mindset will continue this war until we’re finally defeated and enslaved. Mr. President, we must seize this opportunity and exploit it for all it’s worth, even if we don’t get everything we want out of peace,” Barton interjected.
Spencer sat back in his chair. Of all the possible outcomes of the war, a peace offer wasn’t one he had considered, though the Saurian Empire had been pressing the League to start peace talks. Not that we ever thought they’d bear fruit. I figured the only reason the Saurians were trying to help us was to repay what they felt was a debt of honor. “I understand the arguments on both sides, and I believe we’ve got to entertain this request. According to the communiqué, they would like to send one warship and a cargo ship with POWs, including the former president’s daughter, to be turned over to us as a show of good faith, followed by being escorted to Canaan for these proposed peace talks. Any objections to that sequence of events?”
“Mr. President, I feel that we cannot allow a League warship within Canaan’s defense perimeter. Even if it’s not a ruse, they could gather intelligence on our static defenses and the home defense fleet,” Dunleavy replied.
“As commander of the home defense fleet, I feel those risks are overstated, Mr. Secretary,” Barton interjected. “Allowing a single ship in is an acceptable risk for peace. I suggest we send the Ark Royal to escort the League’s flagship to Canaan.”
MacIntosh leaned forward. “Mr. President, while I agree that we must entertain this peace offer, I suggest a different approach. Instead of the Ark Royal, I propose we send the Lion of Judah. She’s almost ready for launch, and a powerful new battleship appearing in
front of the League will put us in a position of strength for talks, and it might shake them up a bit and put them off balance.”
“The Lion of Judah? The ship hasn’t even had a shakedown run yet. It’s not fit for duty or combat, and its commanding officer is questionable in a diplomatic situation. In his last combat, he rammed an enemy ship, for God’s sake! On top of that, General, do you really want to reveal our new technology and weapons platform to the enemy?” Barton asked.
“If it’s so unproven and not fit for duty, what harm could there be in showing it to the enemy, General Barton? As far as I’m concerned, the Lion is the best option and will keep the League off balance. Keeping them off balance during a diplomatic situation furthers our goals,” MacIntosh replied.
“I agree with General MacIntosh,” Spencer said. Barton’s opinion carried little weight with him as a political appointee from the previous administration. The man is a defeatist, and I ought to have him replaced. “The Victory Project has caused a lot of rumors for a while now, both at home and within the League. A dramatic unveiling will help boost the morale of our citizens and shake up the League intelligence network. Andrew, can the Lion of Judah be ready for duty in forty-eight hours?”
MacIntosh nodded firmly. “Yes, sir.”
Spencer stood. “Then you have your orders, General.” Looking at Dunleavy, he continued, “Charles, get Andrew anything he needs. Anything at all. If there’s any red tape, bring it to me, and I’ll remove it. Via executive order, if I have to.”
The assembled company bristled with energy as they waited to be dismissed, but Spencer had one more request for them. “If you all would, please take a moment and pray for the success of this endeavor.” He bowed his head with the rest of them. “Lord, we ask You to bless this peace offering. Please grant strength, wisdom, and courage to all of us, and especially the crew of the Lion of Judah and her commander. Amen.” He lifted his head and gazed at the men and women in the room. “Meeting is adjourned, ladies and gentlemen. Good luck and Godspeed.”
As they filed out, Spencer thought about his old friends and comrades from the CSV Zvika Greengold. So many had perished, and only a few survived. If we can finally end this war on favorable terms, it’ll have been worth the cost. Still, Spencer couldn’t set aside his belief that the only way to defeat the League was to destroy it for good.
17
Sheila stood in the Lion’s main engineering space, gazing up at the massive antimatter reactor and its associated fuel and cooling systems. Not much of an engineer, she was still wowed by the scale of the technology. The reactor assembly appeared larger than the entire engineering space on the Rabin. Hundreds of engineers and technicians swarmed over every foot of the space. Many wore CDF uniforms, but a surprisingly big number had civilian clothes on.
The voice of Dr. Hayworth boomed out from the center of a group of engineers. “You idiot! You’re supposed to monitor the antimatter mix and ensure it remains within the safe zone. Now get back to your stations and try again.”
She smirked, listening to the man rant. David had warned her Hayworth was difficult, but she’d wanted to see for herself. As the group of engineers scattered, Sheila walked over to introduce herself. “Dr. Hayworth?”
“Yes? What can I do for you? Want an autograph?” he asked.
“No, Doctor. I’m Major Sheila Thompson, the Lion’s second officer.” She extended her hand.
Hayworth looked at her hand for several seconds, like it was from a different planet.
“Doctor, remember your manners.” A woman emerged from behind an engineering console.
Appropriately chastened, Hayworth shook Sheila’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Major.”
“Major Elizabeth Merriweather, CDF Special Programs division.” She extended her own hand.
Sheila took it and replied, “Major Sheila Thompson, second officer. This is truly an incredible feat of engineering. I must compliment you both.”
Hayworth ran his eyes over her uniform. “Can I count you among the enlightened, Major?”
“The enlightened?”
“Those of us who worship nothing but science.”
“I’m afraid not, Doctor.”
“A pity. So hard to find another that thinks as I do.”
“Maybe you should move to the League once the peace is signed. I hear they’re all atheists.”
“They’re even worse than you people. All they worship is mankind—a flawed and crippled god, no match for scientific truth.”
“They worship conformity and power, Doctor. We’re the better choice.”
“Obviously. Freedom of thought is always a better choice. I fully support our Coalition. That doesn’t mean it can’t be further improved—or enlightened.”
Merriweather moved to divert the conversation. “Major, were you an engineer at some point in your career?” she asked.
“No, but I know what an incredible feat of engineering looks like when I see it,” Sheila replied with a smile.
“It would be nice if the military stopped pushing me to complete this ship ahead of schedule,” Hayworth grumbled, apparently mollified. “They’d be less likely to get a ship that breaks down on its first jump.”
“We still have two weeks before early trials start. I’m sure that’s enough time, from the reports I read this morning,” Sheila said.
Both Merriweather and Hayworth stared at her.
“Haven’t you heard, young lady?” Hayworth asked smugly.
Sheila shook her head. “Heard what?”
“CDF command wants this ship in space in forty-eight hours. Don’t you military types talk to each other?”
Sheila pulled up her personal communicator. Quickly skimming the messages, she found one from General MacIntosh to the command staff, calling for a staff meeting and asking for all departments to be ready to launch in two days. “I guess I missed that one. I had my communicator on silent this morning.”
Hayworth rolled his eyes. “Glad I’m not going along, if the ship is to be crewed by incompetents like you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.” He turned on his heel and stalked off.
Merriweather grimaced. “I’m sorry, Major. The doctor is a bit temperamental. This project is his magnum opus to science, if you will. He’s put everything into it..”
Sheila smiled. I wonder why she’s making excuses for him.
“Of course, Major. I’m sure he’s under a lot of stress. I wonder if he realizes he’s the lesser of evils for us.”
“You mean either putting up with him or failing? I doubt he’d see the irony.”
“I’d better get to the bridge and check in with Colonel Cohen. Sounds like we’ve had a significant change in plans.” Shelia frowned. “I hope there hasn’t been a serious setback. We don’t need that right now.”
“I know. I’ve been insulated from the war a lot by working for the special-projects team, but I know we’ve been getting hammered lately.”
“Don’t worry. We’ve given it back just as much as we’ve taken,” Sheila replied with faux confidence. In truth, she was worried too. She didn’t know anyone in the service who wasn’t.
“Glad to hear. I’d better get back to work, too, Major. Godspeed.”
“Same to you,” Sheila said as she turned to walk away.
* * *
Kenneth Lowe, the assigned program manager from Strathclyde Shipboard Integrators for the shipboard systems installation contract for the Lion, looked over the message that just popped up on his tablet. He and his deputy, Joshua Carter, sat in a small office aboard the Lion of Judah. It had been assigned to him by the program executive office.
With over four hundred personnel, he had one of the largest teams of contractors on the ship. Kenneth had worked for SSI for nearly ten years, and at thirty-five years old, he was the youngest senior program manager in the company. Assigned to the Lion out of spite for his insistence on following the Coalition Acquisition Regulations, Kenneth was something of an oddity. He came fro
m a military family but didn’t like taking orders he couldn’t question and had not renewed his enlistment after his initial draft period. That aside, he loved working for the military. Being part of something larger than him gave meaning and purpose to his life, and he took a great deal of pride in the idea that his work and the work of his team supported the men and women on the business end of the spear.
As he quickly read over the message, his jaw dropped. “Josh, I think we have a problem.”
“What now, sir?”
“The program executive office for CDF Special Projects just instructed us to complete our work in the next thirty-six hours and have the Lion ready for deployment.”
“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Joshua said, causing Kenneth to raise an eyebrow. Joshua never cussed.
Kenneth passed the tablet over. “Have a look for yourself.”
After scanning the message, Joshua said, “There’s no way we can have this ship combat ready in less than two days. They must want it to meet the League peace delegation we heard about earlier.”
“You may be right, but we can’t let them get out there without a working ship. I think we could have her ready in four days, if we worked twenty-four hours a day and nothing went wrong.”
“But we don’t have four days, boss.”
“We do if we stay on the ship when it gets into space. It’s at least two days’ journey to our border, even with the upgraded Lawrence drives.”
“It’s not in our contract to be in the field, sir. Not only that, but you know Casey won’t let us do it without extracting overtime and hazard pay from the CDF.”
Kenneth rolled his eyes at the mention of Stephen Casey, the SSI vice president. Among all the people in SSI he had to report to, Casey was one of the worst, seemingly focused on squeezing as much profit out of the military as he could. Kenneth had come to loathe the man. In fact, he spent most of his job creatively figuring out how to get around his directives.
Coalition Defense Force Boxed Set: First to Fight Page 35
