by Daniel Gibbs
“Thank you for doing this one in person this morning, Master Chief,” David said once he got to the front of the space where Tinetariro stood.
“Wouldn’t miss one of my soldiers getting an award for all the ale in Sauria, sir,” Tinetariro answered. “Private Hunter is in the first row, as requested.”
“Outstanding,” David said. “I wish the band was still around. Even though it’s been a few months, it was nice while it lasted.”
“Maybe we’ll get it back, along with some bunting for all these port calls the scuttlebutt says we’ll be engaging in, sir,” Tinetariro quipped in her rich, British-accented English.
“Do you have a tap on the commlink, Master Chief?” David asked, thoroughly amused.
“No, sir, but I’m sure one of the chiefs could rig that up if you’d like,” Tinetariro responded with a dazzling smile.
There’s still something about the way she smiles that would terrify me to my bones if I served under her.
Just before 0800, Tinetariro stood to attention and trilled her bosun’s pipe. “Attention!” she shouted, and her voice reverberated across the bay. All present came to smart attention in neat rows. As the anthem of the Terran Coalition began to play, two soldiers quickly tugged the flag up the portable pole that was set up every morning for the ceremony.
David, along with everyone else, brought their hands up to their brows and saluted the colors as the anthem played; as its final bars echoed, they all snapped their hands down.
Tinetariro stepped forward once more to speak. “Colonel Cohen requests the ship’s company remain for the presentation of an award to Private Doris Hunter. Private Hunter, step forward.”
Doris stepped out of her formation, her prosthetic legs slowing her considerably. David could tell, having seen many such injuries over the years, that she hadn’t adapted yet to the linkage between her mind and the robotic limbs. The technology was one of the few areas that Terran Coalition science had advanced to create coupling between man and machine. All respectfully stood as she made her way to where David and Tinetariro stood.
“Private Hunter, we’d typically do this with your family present, but I understand they’re on a frontier world. I hope you don’t mind our little ceremony today,” David said with a smile.
“No, sir,” Doris replied, beaming from ear to ear.
A soldier behind David handed him a small case, along with a leather-bound certificate folder. David snapped the small case open, revealing a small silver medal in the shape of a star. “Private Hunter, for your actions during the first engagement of the battle of Unity Station, I hereby award you the Coalition Defense Force Silver Star for valor and courage.”
David took a step forward and handed Doris the case, which she took and held. “Thank you, sir.”
“I will now read the citation,” David began, opening the folder and reading from the official document. “For heroic conduct during the battle of Unity station. When numerous shipboard engineering systems failed, Private Hunter manned her post despite extreme danger to herself. She ensured the reactor system onboard the CSV Lion of Judah did not fail during combat. Her gallant efforts not only saved the lives of many crewmembers in the engineering spaces directly around her, but the entire ship. Private Hunter’s exceptional professionalism under duress, personal initiative during a crisis and steadfast devotion to her duty reflect great credit upon herself and were in keeping with the highest traditions of the Coalition Defense Force.”
After a pause for applause from those standing behind her, David continued, “Bravo Zulu, Private Hunter!” He reached his hand forward and shook hers warmly. “One more thing, Private,” he said while reaching into his right pocket and pulling out the stripes of a corporal. “You are hereby granted a battlefield promotion to Corporal. Please raise your right hand.”
Doris dutifully raised her right hand and recited the oath of allegiance. “I, Doris Hunter, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the Terran Coalition against all enemies, foreign and domestic. That I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same, and that I will obey the orders of the President of the Terran Coalition and of the officers appointed over me. So help me God.”
“Congratulations, Corporal,” David said, a broad smile on his face.
“Company, dismissed!” Tinetariro announced; the cargo bay full of people started to melt away as they broke ranks and went back to their duties.
Doris stuck around and approached David as he went to leave. “Colonel, if I may, sir?”
“Of course, Corporal. What can I do for you?”
“I wanted to thank you, sir. I was doing my job. I don’t deserve all this.”
“That’s not what I heard from Major Hanson,” David replied. “He believes your actions saved the reactor from overload.”
“That was my job, sir,” Doris said, still grinning from ear to ear.
“The last few days, heroic actions have been prevalent. We wanted to make sure you got the recognition you deserved,” David said. “Give any thought to what’s next? You’ll be eligible for medical discharge once your cloned limbs are integrated and fully functional.”
Doris’ face twisted into a grimace. “I’m not getting out, sir. I plan to reenlist for another term. Maybe aim for senior NCO or warrant officer.”
“What about officer? Good engineers are in short supply.”
“No degree, sir.”
“Lieutenant Goldberg doesn’t have one,” David said. “She’s an LDO.”
“LDO, sir?”
“Limited duty officer. She can’t command a capital ship, but aside from that, there are no restrictions on her ability to contribute. Look into it. Or take advantage of those night classes.”
“Yes, sir, I’ll look into it. Thank you for the advice.”
“Any time, Corporal. Godspeed,” David replied before walking away back to his duties. Which for the rest of the day consist of mountains of paperwork. Lovely.
42
Admiral Seville adjusted the collar of his dress uniform, which was stiff and felt like it was close to choking him. Pausing to check his vast array of medals before walking out of the bathroom a few steps away from the chairman’s office on Earth, he was finally home. Ah yes, home, he reflected. I feel much more alive out among the stars. Here, I’m constantly reminded of the stuffy old men that run the League and their failures. His meeting today was billed as a “briefing,” Seville thought bitterly as he pushed the door open to the ornate hallway, his dress shoes clicking on the marble floor. In reality, I’ll be called to account. Why did I fail yet again, they’ll ask. Idiots… if they’d just sent me the ships I’d requested, when I’d asked for them, we’d be toasting our victory over the Terran Coalition and drawing up plans for the reeducation of Canaan’s population.
The mahogany doors to his left swung open, and Seville walked through them into a small conference room where the most powerful men and women in the League of Sol sat assembled. Led by Chairman Pallis, they made up the Social and Public Safety Committee, which was charged with the expansion and leadership of the League. Colonel Strappi had already taken a seat, wisely choosing to sit in the chairs that lined the wall. Seville took his place at the conference table, enjoying the feel of the luxurious leather. Such comforts are welcome. A pity most citizens will never even see a nice chair, much less have one. People are such sheep. If they’d ever wake up and realize what we’ve done to them for the last four hundred years, they’d riot across the galaxy and put all our heads out on pikes. But they won’t because they’re sheep.
As the doors to Pallis’ office opened up, Seville quickly stood, along with the rest of the people in the room. The military officers all brought themselves smartly to attention. It wasn’t lost on him that Pallis allowed it to go on for several seconds.
“Take your seats, comrades,” Pallis finally said.
Seville sat back down, looking at the committee with what he hoped came across as a contrite facial
expression.
“Admiral, thank you for taking the long journey to Earth so that we could talk to you in the flesh. I feel that sometimes the measure of a person is lost in digital transmission,” Pallis commented.
“I serve at the pleasure of the League, Mr. Chairman,” Seville responded neutrally.
“Yes… yes, you do. Let me start by being direct, Admiral. What happened out there? Where are our ships? Our crews? Our soldiers? Our station?”
“We were defeated, Chairman,” Seville began, his facial features tight with rage. “My fleet did not receive the reinforcements requested in the timeframe required. The Canaan Alliance has ships and fighters that are technologically superior to ours…”
“We gave you the best weapons our scientists have created in decades, Admiral. You had the drop on them, and you showed hesitation in the face of the enemy!” Pallis thundered, interrupting Seville in mid-sentence.
“Mr. Chairman, I must interject on behalf of Admiral Seville,” Strappi piped up from the back row. “I was present and observed his conduct. He’s never showed hesitation in the face of the enemy, and I might suggest that our mutual decision to send part of his fleet to chase down the Terran and Saurian ships may have given them the opening they needed to attack us.”
Seville whirled around, more startled than anything else at the sudden display of spine from his political officer.
Pallis too appeared shocked, with his mouth dropping open. “Is that so, Colonel Strappi?” he asked.
“Yes, comrade. I’ve never seen more tactical acumen from anyone in our fleet than from Admiral Seville. His dedication to the cause is laudable, and an inspiration to the entire League Navy.”
Several of the committee members exchanged glances. Hah, they’d never expect a political officer to defend the Navy so directly. Not that I did either.
“What are your recommendations then, Colonel Strappi? As our representative of the political commissars…”
A voice that Seville didn’t recognize spoke up from the far end of the table. It belonged to a man with striking features that included a scar across his face and a pronounced accent to his speech. “I must agree with Colonel Strappi, and Admiral Seville as well,” he began. “Allow me to introduce myself, comrades. Director Dmitry Borisov.”
Recognizing the name immediately, Seville was shocked the director of the League’s External Security Service was in the same room as the Social and Public Safety Committee. Known as a spymaster and one who lived in the shadows, there was little public linking of the two.
“What is needed now is a new paradigm for pressing our campaign against the Terran Coalition. For far too long, we’ve fought the Terrans’ war. It has bled us dry while playing our weaknesses against their strengths. If it wasn’t for the heroic efforts of our navy, and specifically of Admiral Seville, we would’ve suffered far worse losses.”
Alarm bells sounded inside of Seville’s head like the depressurization alarm on a starship. What’s he setting up, and why am I involved in it? “You’re most kind, Director. I live but to serve our great League,” Seville commented in his best attempt at a humble tone.
“For nearly thirty years,” Borisov continued, “we’ve used hard power in our war to defeat the Terran Coalition. Hard power accomplishes many goals, but sometimes we need to employ soft power as well. The Terran Coalition is a united group of people with many different goals, beliefs, and ideas. If we were to exploit those differences, drive wedges between them… we could destroy them from within.”
“And how do you propose we do that, Director Borisov? We’ve tried spreading the word of our socialism throughout Terran Coalition space, but they don’t seem to be overly interested until we’re able to get them into reeducation centers,” Pallis asked.
“Use their media against them. We already do so to a smaller extent, but there’s far more we can do. If you’ll authorize it, we can work alongside Admiral Seville as he employs hard power to defeat their soon-to-be deployed invasion fleets.”
Aha! There’s the hook. He wants to take over the war effort. Cunning fellow that’ll have to be managed carefully. Seville smiled thinly. “I believe working to weaken the Terrans from the inside has merit, Director Borisov. However, I must caution our last attempt to work together ended in disaster when the sleeper we tried to introduce to the peace conference failed.”
Borisov smiled in return, a look Seville suspected struck terror in the hearts of most underlings. “So it did, Admiral. I’m sure there’s enough blame to go around,” he said while staring directly at Strappi. “We must not dwell on the past in these matters. The Terran Coalition must be destroyed, and we need the resources, population, and technology they possess to continue to advance the cause of humanity across the stars. In two generations’ time, we’ll be ready to begin a campaign to conquer the local alien races. From there, who knows where the sands of time will take us.”
“I see merit in a new approach, Admiral,” Pallis said, glancing about the room. “Do you concur?”
“Of course, Mr. Chairman,” Seville intoned, the only response he could make without encouraging them to execute him, or worse, be labeled as an individualist.
“Then I want both of you to work together for the betterment of our struggle against the Terrans. I expect all parties involved to mimic the ways of our democratic socialist republic, without regard to personal ambition,” Pallis commented while making eye contact with both Seville and Borisov.
“I serve at the pleasure of the committee, Mr. Chairman,” Seville replied, striking his closed fist to his chest, the preferred League salute.
“I’d never have it any other way, Mr. Chairman. The External Security Service’s only goal is the safety of our citizens,” Borisov said with the same thin smile he’d previously used on Seville.
“Good. You may carry on with your duties,” Pallis said with finality.
“What do we have for dinner entrees today, chief?” Ruth asked the steward behind the serving line in the forward officers’ mess. She liked this particular mess because it was close to the bridge and easy to get to before and after standing watch.
“Well, Lieutenant, just about anything you want I can have made, but Salisbury steak with mashed potatoes is the plate of the night for dinner,” he replied.
“Is it real steak? Or some of that stuff made out of vegetables passed off as meat?”
The steward’s face took on a wounded look. “Ma’am, I wouldn’t feed those to my dog, much less officers in the CDF.”
“Point taken,” Ruth replied while laughing. “I’ll take that, with some bread and a salad.”
“Coming right up, Lieutenant. Take a number, and we’ll bring it out…as usual.”
Before Ruth could get out a response, the doors to the mess hall slid open and a group of enlisted soldiers pushing a cart full of beer and what looked like alcohol bottles busted into the room. She immediately recognized one of them as Master Chief Petty Officer Gordan MacDonald, the squad leader for Alpha team.
“Hey, cake eaters, we’re here for the good stuff! Bring out your booze!” MacDonald shouted, while other commandos yelled their agreement.
Ruth stared in amazement as the cart was pushed into the center of the room and the commandos took over a table. She looked back at the steward. “On second thought, I think I’ll take my food to go, chief.”
“Sure thing, Lieutenant,” he said, ducking behind the counter.
While Ruth was waiting for her food, Taylor walked in and approached the food line. “What in the heck is going on?” he asked her, his brow furrowed in a shocked expression.
“It would appear our mess has been commandeered by the space special warfare unit.”
“Hey, I heard someone say space special warfare!” shouted one of the commandos, a voice Ruth didn’t recognize. “If you ain’t spacewalking, you ain’t shit!”
“Hoorah!” another commando yelled while the rest downed shots.
Unable to conceal a smi
le, Ruth grinned as they carried on. “Well, they did take fifty percent losses,” she said quietly to Taylor. “Maybe this is how they cope?”
“No idea. I’m a comms geek, not a ground pounder… for a reason.”
“I wonder if this has anything to do with Colonel Cohen being off the ship tonight,” Ruth mused.
“No, pretty sure he’s got a date,” Taylor replied.
“Colonel Cohen… on a date? Check your RUMINT source. No way.”
Taylor shook his head and grinned at the same time. “Absolutely one hundred percent accurate. I overheard the air boss give the instruction for his shuttle to drop him off on Canaan at 1700.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“Yeah, but I also connected him in to the receptionist for a restaurant on Canaan.”
“Okay, he could be taking his mother out,” Ruth replied, utterly convinced David wasn’t capable of dating anyone currently.
“The shuttle went to the pad nearest to Angela Dinman’s apartment complex.”
“You’re spying on the colonel?” Ruth asked, her jaw dropping open.
“Nah, an intel analyst pulled that out.”
Ruth just rolled her eyes. “Wait a minute… the colonel is going out with an agnostic reporter?”
“Yup,” Taylor said.
The steward passed a container with Ruth’s food across the counter. “Here you go, Lieutenant.”
“Getting yours to go?” Taylor asked.
“Yeah, not interested in the drinking fest,” Ruth said as the commandos pounded another round of shots, yelling in glee at the same time.
“I guess I’ll do the same. Hey, want to join me in the atrium to eat? I never like to eat alone in my quarters. Seems depressing, somehow.”
Ruth couldn’t believe her ears. What is this, the dating ship now? “Are you asking me out on a date, Lieutenant Taylor?” she said, a bit harsher than she intended.
