by G J Ogden
“Penny for your thoughts?” said Mercedes Banks.
Sterling jolted around to see his first officer standing behind him. Like him, Banks’ wounds had been tended to in the forty-eight hours since the battle for G-sector had ended.
“I’m thinking that I haven’t seen this number of gold stars in a single room since my Fleet graduation ceremony,” Sterling said, hooking a thumb toward the adjoining conference room.
The admirals in command of all five United Government War Fleets, plus the commander of the Perimeter Defense Taskforce, were in the room. If this wasn’t already a large enough collection of bigwigs, the United Governments Secretary of War, Ernest Clairborne, was also in attendance.
“I somehow don’t think it’s a good sign,” said Banks, glancing across to the closed double-doors. “Personally, I’d rather be anywhere than here right now.”
“I know what you mean,” replied Sterling, anxiously chewing the corner of his mouth.
Ordinarily, he and Banks wouldn’t be called to a meeting of the War Council, but on this occasion Admiral Griffin had requested their presence, though she hadn’t explained why.
“They’ve been in there for hours already,” said Sterling, watching a squadron of fourth-fleet destroyers cruise past the window.
The double doors swung open and Secretary Clayborne stood in the center of them. Through the doors, Sterling could see Fleet Admiral Griffin and some of the other admirals, each of whom wore the distinctive symbols of their respective fleets on their shoulders.
“Captain Sterling, Commander Banks, please come through,” said Clayborne, with an approachable smile.
Sterling had only met Clayborne once, but he’d heard him speak many times. He was an accomplished politician and all-round smooth talker, which had always made Sterling suspicious of him. Unlike with neural communication, where it was impossible to hide your feelings from another person, an accomplished orator like Clayborne was able to hide his true opinions behind a shield of words. Sterling glanced across to his first officer and flashed his eyes at her before stepping toward the conference room. It felt like he was walking into his own court martial.
“Just there is fine, Captain,” said Clayborne, still smiling amiably.
Sterling stood on the spot the Secretary of War had indicated and tried to look comfortable, despite the sea of admirals all peering back at him. Banks stepped alongside Sterling, her hands squeezed tightly into fists at her sides. A neural jammer in the room meant that he and his first officer were not connected through a neural link at that moment. Even so, Sterling could sense her discomfort.
As Sterling examined the faces of the men and women in front of him, he met the piercing gaze of Admiral Ernest Wessel. He winced, realizing that if the commander of the Earth Defense Fleet was in attendance, his son probably wasn’t too far behind. However, the recently-appointed head of the Special Investigations Branch was currently nowhere to be seen.
“Captain Sterling and Commander Banks, we have asked you here today to pay tribute to your courage, service and selflessness in the line of duty,” Clayborne began, his powerful voice filling the room.
Admiral Griffin then stepped up to the side of the Secretary of War, holding a wooden box in both hands. Sterling thought that she looked as uncomfortable as he and Banks felt.
“After your courageous endeavors on the F-sector command outpost, where you saved countless lives, I had intended to confer upon you both the Fleet Service Cross,” Clayborne continued. He turned to Griffin, who held out the box while Clayborne lifted the lid. Sterling’s eyes grew wide as he saw the contents. “However, in light of your recent actions rescuing Fleet Admiral Natasha Griffin and saving close to five thousand Fleet personnel aboard the nine warships the Invictus freed from G-COP, it is only fitting that we award the Fleet Medal of Honor instead.”
Sterling felt a lump form in his throat. He had walked into the room anticipating a grilling from the War Council over the circumstances of G-COP’s destruction. A medal ceremony was the last thing he expected, or wanted.
“I’m afraid that due to the circumstances, a grander medal ceremony will have to wait,” Clayborne continued. “However, the War Council and the admirals felt it important to recognize your exceptional contribution and bravery while we are all gathered here today.”
The Secretary of War removed one of the medals from the box, adjusted the ribbon and held it up. Sterling bowed allowing the secretary to place the medal over his head. As Sterling lifted his head again, he could see the eyes of Admiral Wessel narrow.
“Commander Banks, if you will allow me,” Clayborne continued, offering the second medal to Sterling’s first officer. She also bowed, though when she rose again her cheeks were flushed crimson.
Clayborne began to clap and the admirals all followed suit. However, Sterling couldn’t help but notice that Admiral Wessel’s gesture was more akin to a sarcastic slow-clap than one with genuine enthusiasm and meaning. After the applause died down, each of the admirals briefly congratulated Sterling and Banks. Then came the turn of Admiral Wessel. As the commander of the Earth Defense Fleet, Wessel’s tunic bore a two-tone logo of earth, instead of the usual-colored stripe.
“Congratulations, Captain Sterling,” said Wessel, though the words were uttered with such rank insincerity that Sterling almost laughed. “It’s interesting how you continue to find yourself at the heart of so many pivotal moments in this war, is it not?”
Though phrased as a question, it was clear to Sterling that the Admiral was suggesting some other reason or motive behind his actions.
“Well, when you’re on the front line, Admiral, you tend to come across the enemy quite a bit more often than I expect you do sitting in orbit around Earth,” Sterling replied. He had intended just to nod, smile and give a simple response in order to make Wessel go away. However, like his son, Admiral Wessel had goaded him and Sterling had taken the bait.
“It’s a shame that you were unable to stop Crow, because now the front-line is now much closer to Earth,” Wessel replied, maintaining his cool. “Crow was one of your officers, was he not?”
Sterling smiled, though this time he had to fight a lot harder to maintain his composure. Wessel’s insinuation was clear.
“Yes, he was, Admiral,” Sterling answered. “Before he was turned, that is.”
“And Captain McQueen, the other emissary of the Sa’Nerra, she was part of your taskforce, correct?” Wessel added, with an inquisitive frown.
“Part of the Void Recon Unit, you mean?” Sterling corrected. Sterling then wondered whether Wessel had made the error deliberately, perhaps in an attempt to trip him up.
“Of course, my mistake,” replied Wessel, in a smarmy tone of voice before smiling again. “Well, hopefully now that travel into the Void has been prohibited by the War Council, you’ll be pleased to know that you and your crew will find yourselves in far less dangerous circumstances going forward.”
Sterling frowned. The news that travel into the Void was banned had not yet reached him, and Wessel immediately picked up on this.
“Oh, you didn’t know?” said Wessel, clearly enjoying himself. “Perhaps you should speak to Admiral Griffin. I’d hate to ruin any more surprises for you.” Wessel then lifted Sterling’s medal off his chest with the tip of his finger. “Congratulations again, Captain,” Wessel added, his words dripping with contempt. The Admiral then allowed the medal to flop back onto Sterling’s tunic before trudging away without even bothering to acknowledge Commander Banks’ presence.
“Like father, like son…” said Banks, letting out a long sigh. “What is it with the Wessels, anyway?”
Sterling shook his head. “I don’t know, though I think I dislike Admiral Wessel even more than his pissant son.”
Admiral Griffin began to walk over. Her movements were stiff and awkward, on account of the numerous surgeries that she was recovering from.
“I take it that Wessel broke the news about travel into the Void?”
said Griffin, speaking quietly so that the others in the room couldn’t hear. However, most of the other officers, including Wessel and the Secretary of War, had already dispersed.
“He took great pleasure in doing so, yes,” replied Sterling, quickly glancing over to the door to make sure Wessel wasn’t lurking nearby.
“The United Governments are scared,” Griffin said, her voice as stiff as her injured body was. “This incident, and Crow’s little speech, has only intensified their desire for a diplomatic solution.”
Sterling recoiled slightly. “How the hell has it intensified a desire for a diplomatic solution?” he hit back. “They literally captured our ambassador ship and used it as a weapon against us.”
The eyes of some of the remaining admirals briefly flicked in Sterling’s direction, and Admiral Griffin ushered them further away from the throng.
“Partly, the UG is bowing to public pressure,” Griffin replied, still with half an eye on Admiral Wessel. “There are already violent protests on Earth and many inner colony worlds. Crow’s words are being believed.”
Sterling cursed. Up until the emissaries arrived on the scene, the Sa’Nerra were easy to predict. They waged war with weapons, not words. Now, thanks to Lana McQueen and Clinton Crow, the aliens had added propaganda to their already formidable arsenal.
“More importantly, the latest intelligence analysis suggests that a Fleet military victory is no longer possible,” Griffin continued, speaking in even more hushed tones. “The UG wish to delay the Sa’Nerran invasion while they search for a method to reverse the effects of the neural control weapon.”
“But if they’ve banned travel into the Void, how are we supposed to track down James Colicos?” Sterling asked.
“The War Council wants nothing to do with Colicos,” replied Griffin. Her anger and disappointment at this fact was plain to see. “They believe Colicos has been turned. And even if he hasn’t been, they wouldn’t trust him. The UG is focused on finding a solution without Colicos’ help.”
Sterling sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “What do you believe Admiral?” he asked.
“I don’t trust Colicos either,” Griffin replied. “But in the time we have left, he is the only one who can undo the damage he has caused.”
The remaining admirals all began to file out of the room, and Griffin appeared anxious to leave also.
“I have another meeting of the War Council to attend,” Griffin said, following the other admirals with her eyes. “Return to the Invictus then head for F-COP. Soon it will be announced that Fleet is pulling out of G-sector entirely.”
“We’re retreating?” queried Banks, her muscles suddenly becoming taut.
“The Hammer is badly damaged and can only be repaired at F-COP,” Griffin said, turning her piercing blue eyes to Banks. “However, deep space aperture relays have picked up a Sa’Nerran armada heading this way. The Hammer cannot be repaired and returned here before it arrives.”
“Are we talking a fleet like that one we just repelled, or something new?” asked Sterling.
“This one is new,” replied Griffin. Each word hit Sterling like a dart. “It is led by a new kind of warship. The same one that you already discovered. Fleet has given it the designation, Titan, and it is accompanied by hundreds of ships. It is an invasion force, pure and simple.”
Sterling shook his head. “Then surely we have to make a stand? We can’t just allow them to take G-sector unopposed.”
Griffin held up her hands. “I have already been through this with the War Council, Captain,” she said, sounding suddenly angry. “Most of the admirals agree that we need to fight, but not all.”
Sterling snorted and shook his head. “I’m willing to bet that one of the admirals that dissented was Wessel,” he spat, again glancing toward the door.
“The President of the United Governments has made her decision and Clairborne supports it,” Griffin snapped. Our hands are tied.” It was rare for the Admiral’s anger to bubble to the surface, so Sterling knew to back down and keep quiet. “You are to withdraw to F-sector and defend the aperture. That is an order.”
“Understood, Admiral,” said Sterling, straightening to attention.
“Officially, all our hopes now rest on Fleet scientists discovering a ‘cure’ to the Sa’Nerran neural weapon,” Griffin went on. As was often the case, she was more open with Sterling than she would be with other captains, due to his unique status. “With the neural weapon gone, their advantage is gone. Then we can attack, without fear of our ships and crews being turned against us.”
Sterling raised an eyebrow. “And unofficially?”
Griffin again met Sterling’s eyes. “Unofficially, I do not intend to sit on my hands and hope for the best.”
“What are our real orders, Admiral?” asked Sterling, suddenly eager to get back into the field. “Unofficially, I mean.”
“All in good time, Captain,” Griffin replied. The Admiral had regained her composure, though her anger was still perilously close to the surface. “I will contact you once I’m through here.”
Sterling nodded then turned to leave.
“One more thing, Captain,” Griffin said. “Alone, if you please.”
“I’ll see you outside,” said Banks, not waiting to be asked to leave. Like Sterling, she had begun to recognize when it was best to simply get out of the Admiral’s hair as quickly as possible.
“What is it, Admiral?” asked Sterling, once Banks had stepped outside.
“I made you an Omega Captain because I trusted that you were willing to make the hard calls,” Griffin began. Sterling straightened up. The Admiral’s tone was formal and severe, and he already knew where she was heading. “Coming after me was reckless,” Griffin went on, confirming Sterling’s suspicions. “You risked the lives of three Omega officers, not to mention a powerful warship, in order to save one person. I am no more important than anyone else. The Omega Directive must be followed to the letter.” Griffin paused, allowing her opening salvo to land, before following up with the killing blow. “Sentimentality does not win wars, Captain. Cold, hard, merciless choices do. Is that clear?”
“If I may speak freely, Admiral?” replied Sterling. He had been expecting such a dressing down and was ready for it.
“Go on,” said Griffin. Sterling thought she even sounded a little intrigued.
“Sentimentality had nothing to do with my decision, Admiral,” Sterling began. This caused the Admiral’s eyebrows to raise up slightly. “And that’s because you’re wrong about one key thing. You are more important. The Fleet needs you if we’re to win this war, whether they know it or not, or like it or not.” Sterling then paused, allowing his opening words to sink in, just as Griffin had done. Then he delivered his punchline. “Saving your life was a tactical choice, Admiral. Nothing more, nothing less.”
Griffin’s eyes narrowed, but she said nothing in reply, and simply scrutinized Sterling’s face with quiet intensity.
“Very well, Captain, you’re dismissed,” said Griffin.
However, Sterling did not adjust his stance. “Admiral, may I ask you a question?”
Again, Griffin appeared intrigued. “Go on,” she said again, though a little more cautiously than before.
“When I was shot in the back on G-COP and couldn’t make it inside the docking umbilical, why didn’t you leave me to die?”
This question had been on Sterling’s mind for the last couple of days. The impromptu medal ceremony, plus news that the Sa’Nerran Titan was on the way, had caused it to slip his mind. However, Griffin’s dressing down had brought it back to the front of his thoughts.
“How many stars do you see on my collar, Captain?” asked Griffin.
Sterling almost smiled, but managed to maintain a level expression. He knew what was coming next.
“Four stars, Admiral,” Sterling replied, stiffly.
“Correct,” replied Griffin, snappily. “And remind me, Captain Sterling, what do these four stars mean?”
Sterling straightened his back even more stiffly and cleared his throat. “They mean that you don’t have to explain a damned thing to me, Admiral,” he answered.
“Very good, Captain,” said Griffin. “You are dismissed.”
Chapter 33
Captain Vernon Wessel
Sterling’s boots clacked against the deck plating as he walked down the long corridor to the docking port where the Invictus was waiting for him. The sound of his boots and the way the noise echoed through the halls of the Hammer was unique among all the ships Sterling had ever set foot on. The Hammer was one of a kind. It was also a vessel that contained many memories for Sterling, some good, some bad and some that continued to haunt him. He was glad to once again be leaving the venerable old war machine in his wake.
Rounding the corner, Sterling saw the docking section directly ahead. However, there was someone standing by the door waiting for him. Sterling smiled, initially believing it to be Mercedes Banks, even though the officer’s back was turned to him. However, as he got closer, Sterling’s smile fell away as he realized who it actually was.
“I am growing tired of chasing you down,” said Captain Vernon Wessel. His uniform was darker than the regular Fleet blue and there was a glossy black stripe on his shoulder, along with the insignia, SIB.
“I’ve been busy, Vernon, what do you want?” grunted Sterling, trying to push past. Wessel blocked his path.
“You know damned well what I want, Captain,” Wessel snapped. “You were ordered to cooperate, and now I want my interview. I have waited long enough.”
Sterling took a step back and glared at the head of the Special Investigations Branch. “Perhaps you haven’t been paying attention to the daily briefings, but I’ve been preoccupied with more important concerns.” Sterling wasn’t even trying to be nice. He just wanted to get back onto his ship and get on with his mission.
“I know all about your little adventures,” Wessel replied, bitterly. “Though your escapades, and your medal, change nothing. You owe me an interview. Now.”