Even with Kate beside him, the stillness was so oppressive that Cross couldn’t bring himself to speak.
Admiral Wilder stood and paced to the center of the circle of seats. He paused there, then placed his hands behind his back. “I ask that we open this gathering with a moment of silence for the sailors, soldiers, Marines, and colonists lost to the enemy’s attacks and our response to them.” During the quiet time, Cross thought about Jannik, and the fear that came when you knew those you loved were vulnerable. Kate’s ability to take care of herself was greater than ever, and still the worry nibbled at him. How much worse it must be for his chief, who’s partner was essentially stranded on a ball of dirt hoping to escape the notice of their brutal enemy.
The admiral dropped the salute with which he’d begun the moment of silence and began pacing a circular path as he spoke, “Thank you once again for being here together. Those captains and commanders who are currently occupied with finishing up the alien attacks on our colonies are present by broadcast, and I thank you for your time as well. As he walked, he met the eyes of those in the audience. “This war has cost a great deal and has gone on far too long. The enemy has routinely identified and exploited our weak points and succeeded in pushing us all the way back to the threshold of our own origin before we could bring them to a halt.”
Wilder turned and reversed course. “But stop their advance, we did. When the aliens threatened Earth, our people responded. We joined together in truth, abandoning the petty divisions that have ruled our relationships with one another since we began exploring the universe. As a single people, we delivered a stinging defeat to the enemy.”
He stopped pacing and raised one hand. “Sure, we had some luck. Chance is always a factor in warfare, no matter how our strategists would prefer to pretend otherwise.”
He dropped his arm and raised the other. “There are those who’d say that we could’ve won a more decisive victory, instead of allowing the command elements of their invasion to melt away in front of us. Could have, would have, should have.” He shook his head and clasped his hands at his back again. “Perfect isn’t an achievable goal, people. Our mission, our only purpose, is survival at almost any cost.”
A murmur broke the stillness of the audience at his words, and he raised a hand again to forestall any comments. His expression grew sterner, and the lines on his face etched even deeper, if such a thing was possible. Wilder’s eyes were as intense as lasers, and Cross imagined residual heat when they swept across him. “I say almost, because there are some depths to which we will not sink. Our enemy has tested our resolve, and we’ve discovered our limits. Never would we attack innocent colonies. Never would we abandon our own. Instead, we walk the fine line that our species has always walked. We choose the difficult path. We choose the hazardous path. We choose the only path to success that allows us to continue to call ourselves human.”
He moved to the exact center of the space and stood in the shaft of light that shone down from above. “Our enemy tried to make us abandon our humanity. Our enemy failed. Now, it’s finally time to teach them the error of their ways.” He let the statement hang, then gestured for Admiral Silva to replace him.
The mustachioed head of the engineering division walked to the center with an abundance of energy and an unexpected grin on his face. “First, a report on our defense of the colonies. We lost a few, but our strategy worked extremely well to protect the majority of our people. We also managed to inflict some significant damage on the bloody birds. Not perfect,” he gave a nod to Admiral Wilder, then continued, “but undeniably a success. Now the time has come to build upon it.” He frowned up at the cameras and said, “Those of you not physically present will have orders transmitted to you shortly.” The cameras’ tally lights stopped glowing, and they departed from the room.
Once they were gone, he gestured for the activation of the holodisplay. While it materialized, Cross felt something inside him loosen. Fear, guilt, nervousness that he’d be called out—he had no way to identify what it was that left him. Moreover, he didn’t care. His good actions, and his responses to his mistakes, told the story of who he was. The mortar of war had ground away his concern for his image against the pestle of experience. His goals, murky once before, were now crystal clear.
Protect his people. Defeat the Xroeshyn. Go exploring with Kate. For the first time since applying to the Academy, Captain Anderson Cross had no doubt in him. Fleeing with the doubts were his fears, leaving room for only confidence and purpose.
The display finished drawing itself, and Silva stroked his mustache once before launching into an animated briefing. “We have more ships here than ever before. By the time we’ve fully assembled, our fleet will number above 400 decks.” There were whispers and sounds of surprise at that. “Admittedly, this includes everything from our flagships down to the smallest supply vessels. But we will hold back nothing in our effort to defeat this enemy who wants to destroy us. Our forward probes have determined that tunneling beyond the asteroid field surrounding their system is too dangerous. The forces of gravity within it are unpredictable and could skew a tunnel entrance just enough to launch us into the rock. We’ll deploy at three locations in order to spread their defenses.”
Three areas shimmered on the display to indicate landing points. “All three assault groups will be capable of standing alone and taking the battle to the enemy. However, one of them will be considered our main attack force.” The image zoomed in one end of the system.
Silva’s voice took on a note of palpable excitement. “The engineers analyzing the asteroid field have discovered an area that is the same as those around it to the naked eye but is slightly weaker under heavy scan. We anticipate this will give us a faster breakthrough, and we’re going to exploit it for our primary assault.”
The display showed wireframe versions of human ships firing upon and clearing the weakened spot, essentially opening a portal in the protective wall. “Given the birds’ history of unexpected surprises, we’ll obviously guard against the possibility that this is a trick to blunt our attack. However, the engineers doubt that likelihood, and it’s too great an opportunity to pass up in any case. If it is a trap, we’ll use our skills and numbers to turn it back on the aliens.”
The image zoomed to show the other areas. “In an effort to provide the main group with a modicum of protection, the other assaults will attack several minutes earlier, along with a decoy effort at position three that’ll appear to attempt to blast through a wider swath of the rock barrier. After they respond to those incursions, we’ll unleash one of our own surprises. Smash open the hole and fire our primary assault force through.”
Silva laced his hands before him with a nod and returned to his seat. Admiral James Okoye, his tall, thin form conveying absolute certainty and strength by his perfect posture, replaced him in the spotlight. “Once inside the system, we anticipate that only if we’re incredibly lucky will we face even odds. The strange mathematical constraints that appear to have been in play during this war are unlikely to continue in the defense of their home planet. Of course, should they wish to not commit their full resources, we’ll happily accept that outcome.” He smiled, and a smattering of laughter echoed in response.
“We have plans for every scenario, and more plans behind those. However, our lack of experience in attacking an enemy’s home world, as well as our lack of knowledge about this enemy despite the last twenty-odd months of battle, is going to make this assault a matter of fluidity, improvisation, and seizing opportunities where they present themselves. The hierarchies of squadrons and commanders will be waiting for you once you reach your ships.”
Okoye paced slowly as he spoke. “Finally, we’re aware of a number of enemy listening posts throughout our territory, including one that hides at the very edge of this sector. We’ve believed for some time that the aliens were intercepting some of our transmissions, and so we’ve undertaken a campaign of disinformation. The final piece of that effort will be
a broadcast at an appropriate security level that orders our ships to different gathering locations, six of them in fact, to be ready to mount our assault starting in thirty-six hours. These orders will instruct you to depart immediately for these assembly points.”
He looked around, making sure that every eye was watching him. “This missive is a lie. You are to return to your ships and depart according to the instructions you will be handed as you leave. Our launch for the assault on the alien home world happens within the hour.”
The energy level in the room spiked, and aides came forward to guide the various captains and commanders to separate exits to better facilitate the distribution of their orders. Now that the moment had arrived, Cross’s stomach dropped into his feet. He turned to Kate and saw a look on her face that suggested hers was being unruly as well. By unspoken agreement, they raced to a darkened and forgotten corner. Once there, they stood, unexpectedly awkward with one another.
Kate shook her head and said, “Screw the rules. They can bust me down to ensign if they want.” She pulled him into a kiss, and he returned it with all the promise and love he could muster. They ended the lip lock and moved into a full-strength hug.
“You stay safe and come back to me, Red.”
She returned his whisper with a quick, “Same to you, Ace.” They broke apart, and Cross patted his tunic over his heart, pushing the cadet insignia pinned inside against his skin. Kate reached up and touched her pendant with a nod, then began to walk away.
Kate,” Cross said, and she looked back over her shoulder. He was forced to yell over the confusion of the room. He didn’t mind.
“I love you.”
She nodded and mouthed, “I know,” then was lost to the teeming officers. Cross broke into a grin at the shared reference and headed for his own door. Their perfect rightness banished his worry. They would be together. Call it chance, call it fate, call it destiny, call it the stubborn intransigence of two people who’d chosen one another.
There was no way the damned birds would separate them. He’d destroy them one at a time with his bare hands if need be. He grabbed his orders and ran for the Washington.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The sight that greeted Captain Anderson Cross as the Washington, DC emerged from tunnel space was unprecedented. A little more than a third of Earth’s ships were arranged in a wide swath facing the asteroid field that encased the enemy’s home system. Ahead, earlier arrivals were already laying laser and plasma fire into the giant rocks in an even spread across the weakened area. The plan was to weaken it all, then punch through in a sudden rush.
The main display updated with feeds from the command squadrons. A section of the screen was devoted to a new schematic generated by the Rio, which held the responsibility of coordinating the entire assault. It looked down upon a two-dimensional representation of the battle, calling to mind a gameboard. On it, small triangles representing human vessels clustered in the three pre-planned locations, with more appearing each second.
Another section of the monitor showed him the status of the ships under his command. They were a squadron of eight cruisers, joined by an unofficial ninth as Kate and the Pandora swung in on the Washington’s five o’clock. “Let’s do it by the book,” Cross said. “Helm.”
“Ready,” replied Lieutenant Lee.
“Tactical.”
“Ready,” replied Matthews.
The checks went on, with each station on the bridge and throughout the ship reporting they were prepared for battle. There was a single moment of levity, when Gunnery Sergeant St. John responded, “Playing cards,” but everyone knew their Marines were always ready. Verifying it was just an exercise in redundancy.
“Excellent,” Cross said. “Fitzpatrick, let’s see our squadron commanders, please.”
He sent the Washington’s status report to the Chicago, designated lead for the main assault force, and looked up again in time to see his squadron mates appear on the screen.
He stood, adjusted his uniform, and ran a hand through his sandy hair. “Captains, Commanders. Our squadron will operate in pairs, so each ship has a wing. Your main job is to work with your wing to safely attack the enemy. This promises to be a long battle even if everything breaks our way, and every minute a ship is alive is one more minute in which it rains destruction on our enemy. Tianjin, you’re with the Washington. Saskatoon and Jakarta, you’re together, Kilkenny and Manila, you’re a team, and Panama and Rostov, you look out for one another.” He’d been careful not to pair ships from the same service. The AAN and the UAL would need to come together as they had in the battle to preserve Earth if they were to win, and it would start right here.
“The Pandora will be our wildcard. If she calls for your assistance, unless I’ve given you a specific task, break off your engagement and aid her.” The heads on his screen bobbed in affirmation.
He spread his hands out. “The assault is enormous, but our fights are the same size they’ve always been. A few of us versus a few of them. I guarantee you, we’re better. Let’s go make sure they understand that too. Remember, stick with your wing, and call for help if you need it. Cross out.”
Fitzpatrick killed the connection, and he sat back, rocking to get comfortable. Even without fancy adaptive cushioning, the captain’s chair on the Washington felt exactly right. He activated the automatic restraints and slipped on the manual ones as a backup. He took a deep breath and expelled it slowly.
The tension on the bridge hung until his weapons officer complained “This is boring. Can we shoot something?” Cross wasn’t sure who let the first chortle escape, but in moments laughter had swept the bridge, and his people were smiling. “Soon enough, Walsh, soon enough.”
Cross waited and watched the diagram in one corner of the screen as the human ships at the front chipped away at the rocks that protected the Xroeshyn system. There was a soft chime and most of the screen was taken over by the image of Admiral Wilder seated in the tactical command center aboard the Rio.
He stared gravely out at them, with not a hint of doubt or mercy in his eyes. “We are all ranks. We are all nationalities. We are sailors, soldiers, and Marines.” He paused and spread his hands before him. “Our road to this moment has been beset by countless challenges and countless mistakes. From the outset, we were foolish, carrying our grudges with one another up the gravity well and out into the universe beyond our home system.”
He slammed a hand down on the arm of his chair. “And then, we compounded our stupidity, again and again. We built new ships to fight among ourselves and considered the losses acceptable as we battled over the tiniest parts of this gigantic universe. Every one of us was foolish, from the greenest ensign to the most experienced admiral.”
He smashed the other hand on his chair. “And from our stupidity grew the greatest mistake of them all: interference with a more advanced alien race. We played our little games, confident the outcome would be the same as always, unaware that the table stakes had been raised far beyond our ability to pay them.”
The old Cross would’ve flinched at that. Now, his error was properly in perspective, and he felt no need to apologize. If others wished to judge him, so be it. His job was to keep his crew safe while they kept humanity safe, and he’d do whatever that task required, regardless of what anyone thought.
The admiral lifted his hands, his palms red from the impacts. “And so, we’ve fought, and we’ve bled, and we’ve died. Good men and women, on the ground and in space, lost to this war. A war we caused with our lack of understanding. In our insular experience, we thought we knew it all. At great cost, we’ve learned the error of our beliefs.”
The admiral stared into the camera pickup as if he knew he was reaching into souls of everyone watching. “But we’ve learned other lessons as well. We’ve learned the things that divide one group of humans from another are paltry, useless predilections. We’ve learned that we have no need for such things. And so, we’ve learned to let them go and seen them burned away
in the fire of this war. Where before we were divided, now we are united. It’s only this revelation that gives us this opportunity to eliminate the threat the aliens pose to our survival. Alone, we would’ve fallen. Together, we now stand.”
He leaned back slightly and placed his hands gently on the arms of his chair. “As you fight, remember what you fight for. You fight for the safety of every colonist scratching out an existence on a new planet. You fight for the safety of those who couldn’t bring themselves to leave Earth and explore the cosmos. You fight for our survival in this moment. Even more importantly, you fight for our future. When we’ve defeated these aliens—” his mouth twisted, and he stopped speaking for a moment while he mastered himself.
“When we defeat these aliens—and I absolutely guarantee you that we’re going to kick their asses so hard up between their shoulders they won’t know which end is up for a month of Sundays—we’re the ones who’ll take the message of unity to our people. We’ll be the living proof of what a united humanity can accomplish. We’ll rebuild that which needs to be rebuilt, and we’ll go forth into the universe to find other species. We’ll meet them with an empty hand of friendship. From today and for forever, we are one people. We’ll welcome those who seek peace with us, and we’ll put the ever-loving smackdown on anyone who chooses to threaten us.”
Cheers emanated from the lower decks, loud enough to make it through the cracks and crevices of the old ship and reach Cross’s ears. It was very hard to control the grin that threatened to undermine his captainly demeanor.
“Enough talk,” Wilder said, and clapped his hands together. “Follow your orders. Do your jobs. Remember why we’re here, remember what’s at stake, and I promise you: we will not fail.”
Victors Page 16