* * *
After a visit to the shul and a brief stop in his day cabin to handle the most pressing administrative needs, David made his way to the Lion of Judah’s cavernous bridge and CIC. He exchanged salutes with the Marine sentries at the hatch as he pulled on his cover—still the old ballcap, with the ship’s logo.
The moment he stepped through, Master Chief Tinetariro roared, “General on deck!” Anyone not in their harness stood, came to attention, and brought their hands up in a sharp salute.
David smiled and returned them. “As you were.” His eyes went around the bridge to see everyone, from Ruth and Hammond at their stations, to Aibek, Hanson, Calvin, Tural, Amir, Merriweather, and Hayworth, all present. One last tour before many of us go our separate ways. The feeling was bitter-sweet, as they’d come to be more than just a group of soldiers. The team was a family. One tested by trial and tragedy but rewarded in the end with a final triumph.
“All systems normal, General,” Aibek announced from his seat in the CO’s chair. He held the conn. “We are ready to depart on your orders.”
“Very well,” David replied. “This is General Cohen,” he said in a formal tone as he crossed the steps to his seat. “I have the conn.”
“Aye, aye, sir. General Cohen has the conn.” Aibek replied and stood.
David reached out his arm and grasped Aibek’s forearm in the Saurian style. “It’s good to have you back, XO.”
“It is good to be had, as you humans say.” Aibek’s grin extended from ear to ear, and his teeth showed. He dropped into the XO’s station.
“Navigation, release all umbilicals.”
“Aye, aye, sir. Umbilicals released,” Hammond began. “We’re cleared to undock from the shipyard.”
“Understood. All ahead, dead slow.”
Before them, out of the transparent alloy windows at the front of the bridge, the superstructure of the shipyard started to move. At first, one could barely tell they were moving, but the speed picked up, and over the course of a few minutes, the massive vessel cleared its moorings and left the station behind. To the left of them was the capital of the Terran Coalition—Canaan—in all its splendor. A world of blue and green, the new cradle of humanity. And to the right, the blackness of space.
Hammond turned around in her seat and flashed a grin at David. “Course, sir?”
“Tradition would be the second star to the right, straight on till morning, sir,” Ruth interjected.
David allowed himself a short laugh and glanced at Aibek. “In that case… second star to the left.”
“And who said anything about stopping in the morning?” Hayworth rumbled from behind the command chairs.
The entire bridge erupted into laughter. For perhaps the first time in his adult life, David Cohen was finally at peace.
Epilogue
New Rostov
League of Sol/Terran Coalition DMZ
September 21st, 2463
The preceding few months hadn’t been easy on Gregory and Natalie Ivanov. They’d narrowly escaped being branded as “individualists” when the League of Sol had retaken control of the planet. But they had. Life under the League was harsh now, as it had been for the rest of their lives. It put the differences between the two competing systems of government in a unique light. Natalie had assumed they’d live the rest of their lives toiling in the mines for the League’s war machine, but after the peace treaty between the two belligerents, word had come of a referendum.
Natalie had a hard time believing the League would accept a planet on its side of the galactic arm voting to join the Terran Coalition. Still, there were underground whispers it was a condition of the truce that any world liberated be allowed to vote on its future. The run-up to the “election day,” as her fellow citizens had taken to calling it, was one where League political commissars had made it clear anyone who dared to cast a ballot in favor of joining the Terrans would be sent to a reeducation camp.
As she walked into the school where her neighborhood was supposed to vote, a grim determination filled her being. She’d resolved to do the right thing, regardless of the cost. If nothing else, in memory of the aid workers who’d spent so much time helping them. The planetary shield that kept their children from suffering radiation sickness, the fusion plants that provided them with free, unlimited power. For a brief moment in time, she saw a glimpse of what a better life was like.
There were no privacy curtains. Only ten desks, set up with small pieces of paper and a bottle of ink. The line snaked through the building, and she found herself behind a young woman who appeared to be in her early twenties.
“I wonder why they want us to dip our fingers in ink to mark the ballots?” she asked.
The people around her in the line didn’t respond. They’re probably too afraid of being marked for the camps. Natalie forced sound into her throat. “I read it was to prevent double voting and fraud.”
“Oh, thank you.” She smiled in return.
Little more was said for the next twenty minutes, and then Natalie was next. A few steps to the desk, and she presented her wrist—with its implanted League ID chip—to the scanner, which spit out a printed piece of paper. On it was a simple question, “Do you vote in favor of staying in the glorious League of Sol for the betterment of mankind?” Leave it to the commissars to engage in propaganda at every turn. She pressed her index finger into the bottle of purple ink and marked the paper on the spot marked “no” before dropping it into the locked box behind the table.
Fear, coupled with elation, ran through Natalie as she exited the building. The entire way back to their modest home, she pondered if her defiance would end up meaning anything. Or would it, in the end, be a useless gesture that put her in a camp for years, if not forever.
In the middle of cooking dinner, she heard the front door swing open. For a brief moment, Natalie’s heart skipped a beat before she heard Gregory’s—her husband—voice ring out.
“I’m home, dear!”
Forcing herself to calm down, she inhaled sharply. “In the kitchen.”
Gregory's face, with its chiseled jaw and receding hair, appeared in the doorway. He wore a bright smile that made him seem a few years younger than he actually was. “How was your day? Did you vote?”
“Yes, and yes.” She held up her still ink-stained finger. “I went this afternoon.”
He lifted his index finger in return. It, too, was purple. “First thing this morning.”
Natalie raised an eyebrow. “That eager to stay in the mighty League?”
There was silence for a few moments before he spoke again. “No, my dear wife. I voted for the Terrans.”
“You what?” Her eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, they opened so wide. “I knew you’d come around to accepting their way of doing things…”
“I know when something is better than what I’ve known.” Gregory shrugged. “Those few months were the best of our lives.”
“Husband, they’ve threatened anyone who supports the Terrans with the camps.”
“Yes, I know. If that’s so important, why’d you vote for them, then?” He smiled. “The pot calling the kettle black, isn’t it?”
She took his hand in hers and squeezed it. “Because someone should stand up to them. It might as well be me.”
“And I.”
“Dinner is ready. Why don’t you set the table while I finish our plates.”
Gregory nodded and busied himself putting out forks, spoons, and napkins, and sat down as she did.
A glance at the kitchen clock told Natalie the polls had closed fifteen minutes prior. She reached for her tablet. “I’m going to check the news.” A few swipes on the device later, and the content searched for appeared. Surprise caused her to shriek.
“What is it?” Gregory demanded. “Let me see!”
Wordlessly, she turned the screen around to show him.
“Amid ninety-nine percent turnout, New Rostov votes in an overwhelming majority to join the Terr
an Coalition,” blared the headline.
“I can’t be-be-believe it,” Gregory stammered. “How… is this even possible?”
“Perhaps it was the hand of God,” Natalie replied and set the tablet down. “Perhaps this time, peace will take root. Especially if the League is willing to allow us to leave.” She retook her husband’s hand and held it to her chest. Hope surged through her, along with the belief that her unborn child—she’d found out the day before—would have a better life. And be free.
Breach of Faith: Book 1 - Breach of Peace:
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THE END
Also Available from Daniel Gibbs
Echoes of War
Book 1 - Fight the Good Fight
Book 2 - Strong and Courageous
Book 3 - So Fight I
Book 4 - Gates of Hell
Book 5 - Keep the Faith
Book 6 - Run the Gauntlet
Book 7 - Finish the Fight
Breach of Faith
(With Gary T. Stevens)
Book 1 - Breach of Peace
Book 2 - Breach of Faith
Book 3 - Breach of Duty
Book 4 - Breach of Trust
Acknowledgements and Afterword
As I write this afterword and set of acknowledgements for the final novel of the Echoes of War series, I’m reminded of the first Morse code message transmitted in the United States.
“What hath God wrought.”
Indeed, looking back over the last two years, if you’d told me I would write nearly a million words, I’d have probably told you to go see a doctor because that was crazy talk. But here I am.
I want to thank all the people in my life who have helped get me here. My dad, for his service and incredible war stories. Also, David VanDyke, for his mentorship, my editor who's put up with teaching me some of the finer points of grammar, and all the readers who have bought my novels, sent encouraging notes and left reviews.
The journey of David Cohen is not complete, nor is mine. Look for a new series from me entitled “Battlegroup Z,” set within the same universe, in early 2021. And rest assured, I will continue David’s story in some form.
We all have miles to go.
v/r
Daniel Gibbs
Finish the Fight: Echoes of War Book Seven Page 33