by Daniel Gibbs
“You were offering up your fellow soldiers to the League for slaughter, not to mention God only knows how many civilian merchant crews that paid the ultimate price, trying to get supplies out to Unity Station!”
“The idea was if Unity fell back into League hands, both sides would sue for peace.”
Calvin couldn’t help but laugh loudly. “You believe that crap?”
“Yes.”
“How long have you been lying about this double life, Mendoza? How many years?” Calvin asked, while his mind raged. This piece of trash isn’t fit to live. Not my place to judge… not my place to judge. God help me.
“Several.”
“Christian?”
“Yes. I consider myself to be a Christian socialist.”
“Okay. Read your bible?”
“Do you read yours?”
“I do. There’re dozens of references to not lying in mine. What about yours?”
Mendoza looked away and didn’t answer.
Calvin pressed on. “I’ve been doing a lot of reading in my bible the past few months. It helped me get through the most difficult period in my life. Liars are described as the children of Satan in John. Proverbs warns us again and again not to lie. The only person killed by God in the New Testament did so because he lied! You think you can outrun the punishment you’re owed, Captain?”
“God will judge me justly. Not you, Colonel.”
“First thing you’ve said that I would agree with, Captain. God will judge you. Why not take a step to mitigate that judgment, right here, right now?”
“As long as we accept Jesus as our savior, our sins are forgiven.”
I’m not equipped for a religious debate. Going to have to try to pull this one out of my rear. “Pretty sure there’s something in there about faith without works being dead.”
“I’m happy with my works, Colonel.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes.”
Calvin leaned back in the chair, a smug smirk forming on his face. “Maybe we should let your fellow traitors, and of course, the holonews teams that’ll be crawling all over this, know how much you helped us.”
Mendoza’s eyes darted up to meet Calvin. “You can’t do that. I haven’t helped you. You’d be lying!”
“Yeah, but who’s to know? Then we could put you into genpop with the rest of the Leaguer POWs. That’d be a fate worse than death, wouldn’t it? They’d beat you to hell and back, daily. Probably do some pretty unnatural things to you too,” Calvin said, staring him down. “There’s a way to avoid it, of course. Just tell me what you know.”
“You wouldn’t dare. It’s against procedure.”
Even as Mendoza spoke, Calvin realized he’d seen the first chink in the man’s mental armor. He smiled thinly. “I almost got drummed out of the service for shooting POWs, Captain. Do you think I’m going to lose sleep over a report with a few misstatements in it? If you do, I can sell you a planet.”
“What information would you want?”
Aha. There the façade goes. “Names, operational plans, what the next phase of the plan was.”
“I don’t know all the names.”
“Were there more, outside of the officers on your ship?”
“I think so.”
“Names and ranks will be a good start, then. Right now, I’m more interested in what the League was planning next.”
Mendoza looked off to the side, avoiding Calvin’s stare. “The objective, once the Lion of Judah became involved, was to destroy her.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s a symbol… of decadence, of capitalism. The technology which powers it was invented by a godless heathen who openly mocks His name. It’s an abomination.”
This dude has a few screws loose. “How are they going to do that? Because Seville’s tried a few times and come up short.”
“We transmitted your patrol plans for the next convoy. They’re going to jump in on top of you with two battleships and escorts. The League commander has advanced model Alexanders at his disposal.”
Calvin sat back in his chair. Damn. I’m no ship driver, but I remember David saying those battleships of theirs were no slouch. God only knows what would happen if a task force caught us unaware. “Okay, Mendoza, here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to write all this down on a tablet and sign. I’m going to find a JAG to sign as a witness, and then we’ll turn you over to Intelligence. You play your cards right, you might even get to see your family again someday.”
Without waiting for a reply, Calvin sprang up and walked out the hatch. Hopefully, the colonel is awake.
21
David sucked on the straw sticking out of a box of juice, still groggy and taking in his surroundings in the medical bay. Hospital food… makes combat rations seem like a five-star restaurant. He’d be attended to be a steady stream of nurses, while Doctor Tural watched over it all. I hate the feeling I’m getting better treatment than those under my command do. Finishing off the juice, he raised his hand to attract the nearest nurse’s attention.
“Excuse me, nurse. Could you ask Doctor Tural to come here? I need to talk to him.”
The younger woman nodded; she appeared to be less than twenty-five years of age and likely still on her first stint in the CDF. “Yes, sir. I’ll get him presently for you,” she replied in a decidedly British accent. Which made sense; the country flag on her uniform was Great Britain.
A minutes later, Doctor Tural appeared at his bedside. “Ah, by the hand of Allah, you’re awake.”
David cracked a smile. “Pretty sure Allah works through those hands of yours, Doctor.”
“It is my hope you are correct,” Tural said, returning the smile. “Now let’s see here. The shoulder is sewn up, regenerative gel applied, and you’ll be in pain there for three days. The stomach wound, on the other hand… we almost lost you, sir. Extensive internal bleeding, coupled with the bullet splintering.”
“How bad was it?”
“It took two hours to get all the fragments out. All bleeding was laser cauterized, and we packed the wound with gel… your BP crashed to the point you almost flatlined, twice.”
David glanced away and nodded. “One of these days, there’s going to be a bullet, plasma cannon burst, or missile with my name on it.”
“Perhaps, but as I told you a few hours ago… not today.”
“When can I get back to my duties?”
Tural raised an eyebrow, staring down at him. “I want you on bed rest for at least a day.”
“Point taken, but I’ve got a ship to run, Doctor.”
“Which Colonel Aibek is doing a fine job of running in your absence.”
“I promise not to run back into combat,” David replied, forcing a smile. “I just need to do some paperwork and have a staff meeting.”
The two men’s exchange was interrupted by the arrival of Calvin and Aibek, the large Saurian leading the way. They came to a stop next to David’s bed.
“Well, well. Looks like our resident doc got you back in fighting shape, Colonel,” Calvin said, his tone jovial and loud as always.
Tural cleared his throat. “Colonel Cohen requires rest. Please, make this brief.”
Aibek and Calvin exchanged glances before the large Saurian spoke. “Sir, interrogation of the captured traitors has revealed a wealth of information. We know what the League’s next move will be.”
“Outstanding. Do we know the information is legit?”
“I broke three of them,” Calvin said. “It all lines up.”
“Can you get me on my feet, Doctor?” David asked.
Tural’s face clouded over, and he furrowed his brow. “I can’t recommend you leave the medical bay, Colonel. If you begin to bleed internally again, we need to know immediately.”
“How about a gravchair? Keeps me off my feet, lets me get to the staff meeting. Afterward, I’ll come back here for observation.”
“I want you back in this bed within three hours, Colonel,”
Tural said, his tone one of a man who would accept no argument.
“Agreed.”
“XO, get everyone together in the briefing room. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
“Aye aye, sir,” Aibek replied, the scales on his head flushing. “We will see you shortly.” He turned and walked out, while Tural stepped away to the next patient.
Calvin remained, a pensive look on his face. “I’m sorry, sir.”
“For what, Cal?”
“I couldn’t stop him fast enough. I should’ve been there for you.”
“Nonsense. We both had a job and found ourselves in an unexpected combat situation. You saved my life, and I’m in your debt.”
“Yeah, let’s just put it against the debt I owe you… one I’ll never pay off.”
David cracked a smile. “Who did the interrogations?”
“I did.”
“And?”
“No harsh measures, no simulated executions, straight and narrow.”
David nodded. “How do you feel now?”
“Honestly, sir, there’s a part of me that wants to space the lot of them. But I fought it down.”
“Some days, that’s the best we can hope for… fighting down the worst instincts within us.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Keep it up, Colonel,” David said, again flashing a smile. “I’m going to get dressed and transferred into a chair. See you soon.”
“Roger that, sir,” Calvin said, and he too walked away.
It took two nurses to get David out of bed, help him dress in a uniform over Tural’s objections, and finally get seated in the gravchair. It floated above the deck plates and allowed someone with reduced mobility complete freedom of movement. With just a few minutes to spare, he made it to the conference room on deck one in time for the meeting to start. Aibek, Calvin, Amir, Hammond, Kelsey, Hanson, Master Chief Tinetariro, and Kenneth were all present and accounted for.
“Greetings, ladies and gentlemen,” David said as he maneuvered the gravchair into the conference room, taking care not to hit the sides of the hatch.
“Colonel on deck!” Calvin announced, coming to attention along with the rest of those present, excepting Kenneth, who stood.
“As you were.”
Aibek pulled the chair at the head of the table out and placed it against the back wall, allowing David to guide the gravchair up and park it in his usual spot.
“Before we begin… I’ll be fine in a few days. Don’t worry about me. The focus on stopping these League attacks and ending the threat posed by the traitors once and for all. Now, what do you all have for me?”
As everyone dropped back into their seats, Calvin spoke up. “Well, sir, we’ve got a pretty good read on the rest of the League force. They’re planning to hit the Lion of Judah with a couple of souped-up Alexander class battleships and escorts. Another screening force will hit a major convoy, hoping that we’ll be caught without any supporting ships of our own.”
“Not bad for a League plan,” David remarked. “I sense whoever is on the other side this time, assuming it’s not Seville, is quite intelligent in tactical matters. They’ve given us a run for our money.”
“A worthy opponent?” Aibek asked.
“Not sure I’d give any Leaguer that honor,” David replied. “The new variant of Alexanders aren’t to be underestimated, though. Two, with escorts, would give us fits without a screening force.”
“There’s another problem, sir,” Aibek interjected. “Based on what Colonel Demood was able to pull out of our prisoners, I do not believe Colonel Dyson’s force can achieve victory. They would face complete destruction.”
David glanced downward. I can’t order Dyson to sacrifice himself like that, not to mention all those under his command. There’s got to be a better way.
“We could deploy my wing to protect the convoy,” Amir said, causing all eyes to dart toward him. “How many League ships are we talking here?”
Calvin shrugged. “A couple dozen Lancers and Cobras.”
Amir smiled thinly. “Versus nearly one hundred and eighty combat spacecraft? I wouldn’t like those odds if I were the League commander.”
Assorted chuckles broke out, relieving some of the pressure cooker of stress that gnawed at the team. David laughed, himself. “Agreed, Amir. The problem is I don’t think our tactically smart friend on the other side of the table would fall for the same trick twice. Besides, the Lawrence drive is already taxed from the previous double jump I did.”
Kenneth leaned forward, and raised his hand. “If I may?”
“Go ahead, Mr. Lowe.”
“What if we strapped to the fighters and bombers to the freighters, well in advance of the ambush?”
Aibek turned and stared at the lanky contractor. “What you say is impossible. No such device exists.”
“We could make it.”
“How?”
“The Lion has dozens of industrial 3D printing arrays. Give my guys some time, we’ll design a device that’ll allow small craft to latch on to the merchant ships, then detach to fight.”
David looked between the two men, his brow furrowed. “That’s one heck of a risk, Kenneth.”
“We can do it, sir.”
“Okay, let’s assume for a moment you succeed. It leads to another problem… without our fighters, we’ll be at an extreme disadvantage against the League capital ships.”
Kelsey cleared her throat. “Colonel, I have a suggestion on how to overcome our weak tactical position.”
“I’m all ears, Lieutenant.”
“Since we know when and where the enemy is coming… we could pre-fire a full flight of missiles, reload our tubes, and have another flight ready to engage. It would give us a significant edge.”
The wheels in David’s brains immediately started turning. That’s out of the box all right… almost sounds like something I’d come up with. “Hanson, how long to reload both VRLS with the improvements we got to the autoloading systems?”
“Twenty to twenty-five minutes, sir.”
“Not fast enough,” Aibek interjected. “Starbolt and Hunter missiles have a maximum loitering time of thirty human minutes, yes?”
“That’s correct, sir,” Kelsey said, reentering the conversation. “If we put manual loading teams to work alongside the autoloader, fifteen minutes is achievable, according to my math.”
Hanson’s face twisted and he glanced from Kelsey to David. “We’d have to work with block and tackle, sir. It's risky. If just one of those missiles drops too far and hits the deck, we could have a cook-off situation inside the ship.”
“I believe it’s a manageable risk, sir,” Kelsey rejoined.
“Major,” David began, addressing Hanson. “Can you mitigate the risk? Fire suppression teams on hand, that sort of thing?”
“Yes, sir, but the biggest thing will be the ship can’t be rocking around or performing quick turn maneuvers. You’ll need to fly it in a straight and level manner. Our inertial damping systems are good, but there’s only so much they can do… the Lion is a massive ship.”
“High risk, high reward,” David said while stroking his chin. “That’s typically how we do things around here, isn’t it?”
No one responded. All eyes stared at him.
“Okay. We need to wrap this up, and reinforcements are too far away to get here in time without arousing suspicion. So, Kenneth, pull another rabbit out of your hat and get whatever device you’ve thought up out of your head and into reality. Hanson, Master Chief, I want all hands needed from the deck force available for reloads. Fill those bays with strong bodies and get us to fifteen minutes. We’ll finish off these Leaguers and then find a way to rescue Lieutenant Goldberg and the commando team. Any questions?”
“How are you feeling, sir?” Amir asked. “Being shot is nothing to sneeze at.”
“I’ll be fine… you’ll see me on the bridge tomorrow. I’m more worried about why someone would betray the Terran Coalition. I can’t get my br
ain around it.”
“Makes two of us, sir,” Tinetariro said, her voice harsh. “They make me sick.”
“They make all of us sick,” Kelsey said.
I still don’t get it. I could understand one man or woman… but most of the officers of a stealth ship? It's insane to even contemplate. David flashed a smile. “Enough about them. We’ve got a job to do. Now let’s get to work. Dismissed.”
22
“Just snap the gauntlet in, here,” Ruth said as she tried to guide Susanna through putting on her armor. The young woman struggled to turn the piece for a moment, but it finally locked into place.
“This is so weird,” Susanna admitted, waving her hands around within the suit. “All these readouts and information. It's like my brain is overloading with input.”
“You get used to it,” Ruth replied. “We didn’t get combat armor back when I was doing this in the resistance. If you were shot, well, you probably didn’t make it. Having these would have been like magic to us, way back when,” she finished, looking around the barn. The commandos were selecting their rifles and outfitting sidearms with suppressors.
“You two ready?” MacDonald shouted from down below.
“Just about, Master Chief.”
MacDonald grunted. “Well, get a move on. We’ve got places to go and Leaguers to kill.”
“Are they always like this?” Susanna asked, leaning in to whisper. “It’s strange. Like all this technology I’ve never seen before.”
“I’ve never been with them before in battle, but probably. You must understand we all have our own rituals, ways that we keep calm and collected before battle. Sometimes the tech helps with it… for me at least, I trust in the edge we have over the League.”
“What do you think about before a battle?”
Ruth stared into space. “Usually, what happened to my family and me on this planet. I vow to make the League pay.”
“That’s how you get ready for a battle?”
Ruth nodded. “Yes.”
“Forgive me for saying so, but that sounds awful.”
“I won’t deny it is, Susanna. You weren’t there, though. They killed my parents, and the things they did to me were despicable, beyond any standard of morality.”