by Ken Lozito
Connor looked at Nathan, and they regarded each other for a few seconds. Then Connor gave him a crisp nod.
Bob Mullins appeared smug. “Thank you for your answer, General Hayes. So, the situation we find ourselves in is that we have both of you, who are the most senior officers in the entire CDF, and each of you would have handled things differently.”
“Congratulations,” Connor said. “You just demonstrated that Nathan and I are different people who have fundamental differences in how we approach tough situations. This doesn’t change anything.”
“On the contrary, this could change everything.”
Connor looked at Governor Wolf. “What’s he talking about?”
“May I?” Mullins asked, and Governor Wolf nodded. “Our justice system doesn’t have the death penalty. Those extreme measures of justice have been abolished for hundreds of years, but it still exists in the military. It’s time that we put this under review.”
Connor shook his head and looked at Governor Wolf. “The rules and regulations we have in the CDF charter weren’t put there because we simply thought it was a good idea. These things were put there because they're built upon established military practices that have been in existence for hundreds of years. They've been proven. They work. At the end of the day, what we’ll all need to accept is that this entire situation was an unfortunate consequence,” he said and looked at Mullins. “You want to point a finger at Colonel Quinn, and as the commanding officer of Trident Battle Group, that might be appropriate. We, as leaders, are responsible for those under our command. But the fact of the matter is that Lester Brody created the conditions under which Colonel Quinn had to act.”
“What other action could Brody have taken? He was a senior officer, and I presume he took the action he thought was necessary,” Mullins replied.
“You mean what could Brody have done other than hold civilians as hostages and threaten to open fire on other CDF warships?” Connor asked, his voice like sandpaper rubbing on a bit of a snarl. “He could have recused himself from duty. That would’ve been a peaceful form of rebellion. Instead, he chose sedition and a grossly negligent act of mutiny,” he said, his eyes glittering dangerously. He inhaled deeply and sighed. “In simple terms, he cracked under the pressure.”
Governor Wolf regarded him for a few moments. Connor could tell she was conflicted. Some of these issues were hitting close to home. Meredith Cain and the rogue group's activities had occurred under her stewardship. Did this make her ultimately responsible for everything Meredith Cain had done?
“It’s important that we review these things,” Dana said. “It’s how we improve. Maybe nothing will change, but maybe something will. We shouldn’t be complacent with practices that have been around for hundreds of years. Sometimes things need to be questioned, reviewed, and considered as to whether those practices still make sense.”
“I understand, Governor Wolf,” Connor said.
She was doing what she felt she had to do, but what Connor knew was going to happen was that people were going to use these events to assert themselves. They were going to prop Sean up as a dark example. Sean was a war hero and deserved much better. Connor glanced at Bob Mullins and could guess where most of the mudslinging was going to come from.
As the rest of the Security Council meeting went on, Connor had to accept that there could have been no other outcome. Part of him even agreed with what Dana had said. Maybe they should review these policies, but he would never find fault with what Sean had had to do. Perhaps it was because he’d been a soldier longer than anyone here. This situation was a morally gray area, and it irritated Connor that there were going to be people who used that to gain an advantage in their political machinations. What he had to figure out now was how to prevent it from ruining Sean’s life.
32
Sean went with Oriana to visit her brother’s grave—the place where his ashes had been buried. She wiped off the top of the headstone and placed some flowers native to the area on top. They had flaming orange petals that surrounded a purple center like a fan. He thought they looked nice.
Oriana felt extremely guilty, believing that if she’d been on New Earth she could have prevented her brother from committing his crimes. She was angry—at her brother, at herself, and even at Sean a little—but he understood. She didn’t blame Sean. Not really. She was grieving. He knew what it was like to mourn the loss of someone close. Family. It’d taken him a long time to grieve the loss of his father. He'd never stopped missing his father, and there were times when he found himself wishing he could speak to his father again. How would his father have reacted to some of the things Sean had done? Would he approve? Sean didn’t think his father would have, and he could live with that. It was more important that his father understood why Sean had made some of those tough decisions, even if they'd never agree. His understanding would have been enough.
He exhaled softly. Noah had been there for Sean when his father died. He was a good friend. Lars had been there for him too. They were like brothers to him. Sean winced a little.
Lars . . . what happened to you?
He shook his head slightly. He couldn’t dwell on Lars right then—another time, but not now. Oriana needed him.
“He did such horrible things. That’s what everyone is going to remember about him,” Oriana said.
“What do you remember about him?”
Oriana shrugged a little. “He was my baby brother. He always had a temper, but he was sweet. He wanted to help people.”
“Then remember that. Remember the good things he was and try not to hold onto the bad things he did,” Sean said.
They stood there quietly. Sean would be there for as long as she needed him to be. He wished he could think of something else to say, something that would take away her pain, but he knew there wasn’t anything. No one could ease her pain. She just needed time.
Later, they returned to the Colonial Administration Building where the Security Council was meeting. They had been meeting there for days, going over the Trident Battle Group report that contained the findings of the CDF investigation. Sean knew they were discussing his actions, and he felt that he should be in the room. Both Connor and Nathan agreed that he didn't need to be there, but Sean couldn’t be anywhere else. If he wasn’t allowed into the room to defend his actions, he could at least be nearby.
He and Oriana were sitting in the large atrium just inside the entranceway when he noticed somebody walking toward him and saw that it was his mother. She gave them both a hug.
“I’ll give you two some time to talk,” Oriana said and left them.
His mother looked at him with a bit of sympathy and then glanced in the direction Oriana had left. “Are you together now?”
Sean smiled. “Yes, we are, but I’m sure you don’t want to talk about my love life.”
“As long as she treats you right, that’s all I really care about. Does she make you happy?”
Sean rolled his eyes. Of all the things that were going on right then, that question had caught him off guard. “Yes, she does. Thank you for asking.”
They sat down on a nearby bench.
“You may not realize this, but I understand what you’re going through,” Ashley said.
Sean arched an eyebrow toward her.
“Don’t give me that. You think because you’re a soldier you’re the only career field that deals with life-and-death decisions.”
Sean considered it for a few moments. His mother was a medical doctor. “I guess I never really thought about it.”
Ashley nodded. “Life-and-death decisions are my forte, and they sometimes get reviewed and scrutinized by everyone for years. So I understand what you’re going through, at least in part. It’s never easy.”
“What I did is putting pressure on the entire CDF,” Sean said.
“Sean, don’t be foolish. The CDF is always under pressure. You made your decisions based on the situation. You’re no stranger to making difficult choices in s
ituations that the best of us might freeze in. Remember, the people who got to come home did so because of your leadership and not in spite of it. No matter what happens, never forget that.”
“Do you ever second-guess yourself? I keep thinking about whether I should’ve handled the situation differently.”
“Of course I do. It’s the tough choices we have to live with that make us do so. Honestly, I’d be worried if you weren’t conflicted about what happened.”
Sean exhaled deeply. “I regret the lives that were lost, but I still stand by my decision. Does this make me a bad person?”
“I’m not here to judge you, Sean. You’re my son, so I’m a bit biased. You have to live with the decisions you've made, and it sounds like you are. You’ve already answered the question. You wouldn’t change anything but you don’t like it, and there's nothing wrong with that.”
Sean nodded. “I’ve been thinking about whether I should resign from the CDF.”
Ashley looked at him for a few seconds and then shrugged. “That’s another question I can’t really answer, but I will tell you this: You don’t owe anyone anything. This colony survived because of your actions during the Vemus War. Time and time again you’ve risked your life for this colony. You've risen so far because people trust your leadership. The question is, do you still trust yourself? I trust you. I know Connor does. And your father did. He would’ve understood what you did.”
“But would he have been able to look me in the eye afterward without seeing all the . . .” He’d been about to say "blood on my hands," but his mother knew what he meant.
“Yes,” Ashley said. She reached out and took his hands in her own. “Without question. You are our son and we love you.”
Sean felt some of the weight he'd been carrying lift just a little bit. “Thank you,” he said. “I guess I just need some time to think about it.”
“Well, whatever you decide, I’m sure it will be the right decision.”
33
The early morning hours at the Colonial Administration Building were dark and quiet. Connor had gotten only a few hours of sleep, but he was restless. He could have remained at his quarters on the CDF base, but he knew he had to come here anyway for another meeting with the Security Council.
His footsteps echoed across the vast atrium just past the entrance of the building. Wallscreens were active, showing various scenes of the colony from when they’d first arrived to the sprawling cities they’d built. There were even several wallscreens showing CDF soldiers. Connor walked over to them and gazed at the various portrayals. He was about a quarter of the way around the atrium when Bob Mullins spotted him.
Connor glanced at the advisor. “I’m surprised you don’t just sleep in one of the meeting rooms in the upper levels.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Mullins replied.
They were alone in the atrium and probably the whole building.
“Don’t let me interrupt you, General. I’ll leave you to it,” Mullins said and began walking away.
Connor watched him go for a few moments. “What do you really want from me?”
Mullins stopped and turned around, frowning.
“I might be guessing, or let’s call it careful speculation," Connor said. "You want to review the CDF charter. The mutiny. There isn’t a legal case there. Even if something changes, it won’t affect Sean. You can’t change the law and then retroactively prosecute someone.”
Mullins nodded. “You’re right; we can’t do that.”
“But you can ruin Sean’s reputation. What I can’t figure out is why. Is it because of me?”
“What he did was reprehensible,” Mullins said, but then his gaze softened. “But then again, so is war.”
“I respect that you want to improve things, but do it without riling the public into a frenzy. Those kinds of decisions should be based on good judgment rather than anxiety,” Connor said and closed the distance between them. “So, I figure there's something you’re angling for.”
“I work in the governor’s office. There is always something I’m angling for. You think you’re different than me, but you’re not. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here.”
Connor snorted bitterly. “So, we both have a healthy work ethic.”
Mullins looked away, considering. “You’re convinced that the Krake are going to find us. They’re going to come to New Earth, and we need to be prepared.”
Connor frowned and then nodded.
“Well, it just so happens that I agree with you.”
Connor’s eyes widened a little. “Then why are you working against me?”
Mullins shook his head. “Not necessarily against you. We just have a different opinion on how to prepare for the threat.”
Connor glanced at one of the wallscreens. It showed an image of the Ark in orbit around New Earth. He looked back at Mullins. “This is about setting up another colony, isn’t it?”
Mullins twitched his head to the side in a small nod. “A backup site. Just in case. Continuity of the species and all that.”
Connor pressed his lips together slightly. “What does this have to do with me?”
Mullins let out a small chuckle. “I need your support. I won’t gain any traction for establishing a new colony if I don’t have your support.”
It was Connor’s turn to chuckle. “I don’t see—”
“There it is,” Mullins interrupted. “Let me put it this way. If I were to get your support, then the new colony would stand a much better chance of getting off the ground.”
“Why didn’t you just ask me?”
“This is me asking.”
Connor shook his head. He was finding it hard to believe what he was hearing.
“You don’t believe me, I can tell,” Mullins said. “Fine. I do believe the CDF charter needs to be reviewed and challenged. This will take time, and there will be people whose performance will be highlighted as examples of our core values and of what we should strive to improve.”
Connor narrowed his gaze, knowing that Mullins was referring to Sean. “You're proposing a compromise.”
Mullins nodded. “Yes, neither of us gets exactly what we want, but we each get something. You get to save your protégé, and I get your support to establish a secondary colony. What do you say?”
Connor pursed his lips, thinking about all the possible outcomes of compromising with someone like Mullins. Alternatively, he could spend weeks or even months in meetings defending the CDF charter instead of devoting himself to the important task of defending the colony from the Krake. He looked at Mullins, who waited with all the patience of a spider. They clashed like water on flame. Connor thought about the work that would be involved in establishing a small colony on another world, but the request wasn’t unreasonable.
“I think we can work something out,” Connor said.
“I’m sorry for all the trouble this has caused,” Sean said.
Connor and Sean were standing in Connor's office at the CDF base in Sierra. “That’s the last time I want to hear that from you. Stop apologizing. I mean it.”
Sean nodded. “What happens now?”
“We put all this behind us and focus on what’s important. But I will say this: Over ninety percent of the soldiers that were part of Trident Battle Group would serve under you again.”
Sean frowned and looked away for a moment.
“Brody was the minority, and sometimes the minority has the loudest voice. They don’t represent what everyone is thinking. Remember that. You’re a good soldier, a good leader. I’m proud of you. I don’t think it’s much of a stretch to say that one day you’ll be a general.”
Sean’s eyes widened and he almost shook his head. “I appreciate that, but I don’t know . . . if staying in the CDF is what’s best for me.”
“I don’t care; I need you.”
Now Sean did shake his head, and he smiled a little.
“You’re a soldier to your bones. It’s part of you just like it’s part
of me. So we both got beat up a little bit. We can take it because that’s who we are. We can make the tough choices, but we can also evaluate our decisions to make sure we're still on the right path. Do you understand what I mean?”
“Yes.”
“Good,” Connor said and used his implants to activate the nearby wallscreen.
The entire wall became active. The top showed the words of the Krake hierarchy. Just below them was a label that said "Overseers?" The lights dimmed in the office, showing the full breadth of the data they’d gathered about the Krake.
“This screen just shows us what's on the surface—what we know of the Krake and how they operate. This one includes the Ovarrow and contains all the interactions we’ve had with them so far,” Connor said and gestured toward the adjacent wall, activating a third wallscreen. “And these are things the Ovarrow believe they know about the Krake. We’ve been trying to analyze what’s fact and what’s conjecture.”
“That’s difficult to say because the Krake control what the Ovarrow know about them,” Sean said.
Connor nodded. “That’s true. There’s a lot more information we have to go through, but I figured you’d want to see this.”
Connor watched as Sean took a good look at both wallscreens and all the data on them.
“Somewhere, buried amid all the evidence we’ve gathered here on New Earth and possibly on some other world, is a way to stop the Krake. And don’t doubt for a second that they can be stopped.”
Sean frowned. “Aurang said the Krake had never encountered anyone like us on any of the other Ovarrow worlds. I think it’s that kind of challenge that's going to draw them to us.”