Insurrection (The Kurgan War Book 6)

by Richard Turner

  Sheridan’s eyes lit up when he saw the women he loved. “Yeah, it’s me alright. No point in doing something dangerous if you can’t get filthy doing it.”

  “What is that smell? I think you two may have set a new low for body odor and personal hygiene.”

  Cole sat up. “Oy, I’m not that bad, am I?”

  “Yes, you are,” said the medic without missing a beat.

  Sheridan chuckled. He looked up at Tarina. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but what the hell is going on? And since when did the Kurgans help us evacuate people from a war zone?”

  Tarina took a seat across from Sheridan. She shook her head when she saw the female soldier cut open Sheridan’s shirt so she could clean and dress his wound. “It’s a long story. Suffice it to say, peace has broken out between ourselves and the Kurgan Empire.”

  “I figured something like that was up.”

  “If you did, you sure kept it to yourself,” chided Cole.

  Sheridan opened his mouth to say something, but instead winced in pain when the medic applied a disinfectant spray to the gash on his arm.

  “Hurts like hell, doesn’t it,” said Cole.

  “Alan, Wendy is still in the cockpit,” said Tarina. “I’m sure she’d like to see that you’re still in one piece.”

  “Got it,” replied Cole with a wink at Tarina. He climbed out of his seat and ran a hand over his soot-encrusted clothes before walking away.

  Tarina reached over and took Sheridan’s right hand in hers. “Michael, can you believe it? The war is actually coming to a close.”

  Sheridan waited for the medic to finish applying a bandage before speaking. “First off, what happened to your hair, and who says the war is over?”

  “I shaved it. White hair on dark skin kind of made me stand out. Secondly, Colonel Wright is flying this shuttle, and he’s the one who told us the war is winding down. Your father is negotiating the terms for a ceasefire, to be followed by a formal peace treaty. Isn’t the news wonderful?”

  Sheridan sat back in his seat and let out a tired sigh. “I’ll believe it when I see. A ceasefire is one thing, but a lasting peace between our two species is something else altogether.”

  “Michael, your father is a smart and honorable man. He’ll do what’s right to ensure this is the end of the war.”

  Sheridan thought of his dad and smiled. Estranged before the war began, Sheridan had, over the past few years, grown very close to his father. “Yeah, you’re right; he’s the best man for the job. Let’s just hope the Federation Council doesn’t send too many pedantic desk jockeys from Earth to muck things up.”

  “God, you sound just like Colonel Wright. He’s afraid the bureaucrats are going to throw all of our hard earned gains out of the window.”

  “I always knew that colonel of yours was a smart man,” replied Sheridan with a boyish grin on his face.

  “Whatever,” said Tarina, leaning over to give her boyfriend a kiss on the cheek.

  “Is that all I get after being wounded?”

  “You’re lucky you got that. You need a shower and a new set of clothes.” With that, Tarina stood and walked out of the room.

  Sheridan felt the adrenaline begin to leave his body and shuddered as if being hit by a cold breeze.

  The medic waited until Tarina was gone before laying a thermal blanket over Sheridan’s body. Almost right way, his eyes grew heavy. Sheridan’s breathing became deep. In seconds, he was fast asleep. His thunderous snoring could be heard in the cockpit.

  Chapter 14

  Michael Sheridan took one last look in the mirror to make sure his major’s insignia on his uniform was on straight before leaving his quarters. It had been three days since they had returned to the fleet, but it was the first time Michael would have some time alone with his father. He stopped and looked up and down the hallway. Michael wasn’t as familiar with the Intrepid, his father’s new flagship, as he had been with the Colossus. In what had become a bit of a tradition, Admiral Robert Sheridan had invited Michael and his friends to dinner. However, tonight it would only be Michael attending. Tarina and Wendy were at a soiree with their friends at the newly reconstituted First Special Warfare Squadron. Cole had feigned a stomach bug coming on. Michael knew better; his friend was laying low but didn’t want the admiral to think he was brushing him off.

  Two Marines guarded the entrance to his father’s quarters. Michael held up his ID for them to read.

  “Please go in, sir; the admiral is expecting you,” said a young blonde-haired Marine.

  Michael pressed a button on the wall. The door slid open, and the smell of roast beef wafted out into the hallway.

  “Don’t just stand there, come in, Michael,” said Admiral Sheridan with a welcoming smile on his face. Handsome with black hair and dark-green eyes, Robert Sheridan was the spitting image of his son, only thirty years older.

  Michael walked into the room and waved at his dad. “I’m sorry my friends couldn’t make it for dinner tonight.”

  “Their loss,” said Robert. “Now come here and give your father a hug.”

  Michael embraced his father. Such an act would have been unfathomable before the war. Michael’s respect and admiration for his father grew with each passing day.

  “My God, I think you’ve lost some more weight,” said the admiral, letting go of his son.

  “Not to worry,” responded Michael. “The food onboard your ship is unbelievably good. I’ll put that weight back on in no time.”

  “How’s your arm?”

  “It’s a bit stiff. The bullet just grazed my skin. Another souvenir—I guess.”

  Robert indicated to the table in the middle of the room. “Come on, son, let’s have some supper before it gets cold.”

  The two men devoured their meal of roast beef, potatoes, and mixed vegetables before moving onto dessert and coffee.

  Michael set his coffee cup down and looked his father in the eyes. “Dad, how are peace negotiations going?”

  “It’s still early. The ceasefire between ourselves and the Kurgan Empire officially came into effect at midnight last night. It’s still going to take months of hard work for us to iron out a lasting treaty both sides can live with.”

  “Is anyone from the Federation Council coming to help oversee the negotiations?”

  “Yes. A team consisting of scholars, interplanetary lawyers, and diplomats are on their way.”

  Michael chuckled. Getting two lawyers to agree on anything was problematic. A team of them would be near impossible. “Who has the lead with the talks?”

  “I do. Once we have agreed to a working framework, it will be sent to both home worlds for study and debate before it is signed. The only thing we have both agreed to so far is the need to exchange diplomats. Think about it. For the first time in our history, we will have an ambassador living and working on their side of the border.”

  “Are there any issues you’re aware of that might cause friction during the negotiations?”

  “The Federation president has made it quite clear to me that anyone taken by the Kurgans during the war must be accounted for and returned home. Until the Kurgans give a full accounting for all of the people, both military and civilian, that they have on their side of the border, I’m not to hand back one millimeter of the three resource-producing planets we seized during Operation Olympic.”

  “Sounds fair. If I were in your shoes, I’d also demand that the Kurgans provide you with a comprehensive list of all the sleeper agents still yet to be activated. They should be given the choice of deprogramming and remaining with us or returning to Kurgan space as members of the empire. We can’t afford to have a repeat of what happened to us during the conflict.”

  Robert nodded. “Captain Killam has already suggested that. I have him and a small group of specialists locked away in a briefing room looking at each and every possible issue which could arise during the talks.”

  “If anyone can sort through the minutiae of detail required to
bring about peace it will be Killam. He’s one of the smartest men I’ve ever met.”

  “That he is.”

  “So when do the talks begin?”

  “Tomorrow at 1000 hours. My opposite number from the Kurgan forces will be arriving at that time. His name is Fleet Admiral Kaar. He will be met by myself and an honor guard in the portside launch bay. I’d like you and First Sergeant Cole to be there as well.”

  “Is there any particular reason you want us there?” said Michael, thinking the request a little odd.

  “Yes. Admiral Kaar has asked to meet you.”

  Michael almost spat out the sip of coffee he had just taken. “Me! Why me?”

  “He didn’t say, and as I didn’t see anything nefarious in his request, I didn’t ask why. I’ll expect you both to be there in your dress uniforms looking as sharp as possible.”

  “Yes, sir,” replied Michael, confused as to why a Kurgan Admiral would want to meet him. “As this is truly an historic event, can I drag Captains Pheto and Sullivan along with me?”

  “Sure, why not.”

  Michael stood. “Well, Dad, thanks for the excellent meal, but I really must get going.”

  The admiral glanced at his watch. “But Michael, it’s still early, and I haven’t seen you in months.”

  “I promise to stay longer next time, but right now I have to find my colleagues and tell them that we have to draw some new uniforms from your ship’s quartermaster and get them ready for tomorrow. I hope none of them have been drinking too much, or this is going to be a very long night indeed.”

  Chapter 15

  At precisely 1000 hours, the airlock leading to the port side launch bay slid open.

  A young Marine captain commanding the honor guard came to attention and called out, “Guard attention!” As one, the one hundred Marines came smartly to attention.

  Out of the airlock strode a tall, broad-shouldered Kurgan officer wearing his traditional uniform of full-body armor. Draped over his shoulder was a crimson sash with four metal stars on it indicating his rank. He was met by Admiral Sheridan, who escorted him onto the temporary parade square. They walked straight toward the honor guard commander.

  The captain brought up her sword and saluted the two admirals. Robert Sheridan returned her salute, while the Kurgan officer merely bowed his head in greeting. In the back, a band struck up a tune as the two flag officers inspected the guard.

  “Are you sure your dad asked for all of us to be here?” said Tarina. Her eyes were bloodshot. She wobbled on her feet and her breath still reeked of alcohol.

  “Oh, I’m positive,” lied Sheridan. “He was quite specific that you, Wendy, and Alan be here today to witness this once-in-a-lifetime event.”

  “Well, I’d pay good money if the band would be quiet,” added Wendy. She was as bad off, if not worse, than her friend. Cole stood next to Wendy with his arm around her to keep her from falling down flat on her face.

  Sheridan didn’t feel the slightest bit guilty about the state Tarina and Wendy were in. He had pulled them away from their party when they were still quite sober. However, after they had gotten their uniforms ready for the parade, they had decided to nip back and see if their friends were still having fun. Cole caught them sneaking back into their rooms at seven in the morning still clutching a couple of bottles of champagne.

  “Now, this most definitely is a switch,” said Cole.

  “Why’s that?” asked Sheridan.

  “In my younger days, it would have been me smelling and acting like a drunken skunk, not these two fine young ladies.”

  Sheridan chuckled. “Come on, let’s find them a couple of chairs to sit in before they fall down.”

  “There’s a couple over by the band,” said Cole.

  “You’re a masochist. I don’t know who they’re going to hate more when they sober up. Me, for lying to them, or you for dumping them by the band.”

  “We’ll worry about that when the time comes.”

  They had barely enough time to deposit their friends in their chairs and get back to where they were standing before the admirals arrived.

  “Admiral Kaar, may I present to you my son, Major Michael Sheridan,” said Robert with pride.

  Sheridan’s eyes widened when he realized how tall the Kurgan was. He stood a good head above his father and had the widest chest he had ever seen on a Kurgan. His tan-colored skin was covered in scars. The admiral was a survivor.

  Sheridan and Cole came to attention and saluted the two admirals.

  “Your picture makes you look taller,” said Kaar to Michael. His English was understandable but had a guttural sound to it. “Also, I did not know that you had been promoted.”

  Michael was at a loss for words. The thought that the Kurgans kept a file on him was unnerving.

  “I personally promoted him a few months back,” explained Robert Sheridan.

  “You are most fortunate,” said Kaar. “Both of my sons are dead. War is our profession, but it can rob us of all we hold close.”

  “I am sorry for your loss, Admiral,” said Robert.

  “They died honorably. What more could I have asked of them?”

  A shiver ran down Michael Sheridan’s spine when he realized Kaar was examining him with his large golden eyes. “Major, does it surprise you that I can speak your language?”

  Michael cleared his throat and responded in Kurgan, “No, sir. I can speak yours too.”

  “So I have been told. Major, may I ask you a question?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I want you to be completely honest with your answer.”

  “I will.”

  Kaar leaned toward Sheridan. “Major, do you trust me?”

  “Sir, I don’t even know you. But if in a roundabout way you’re asking me if I trust the Kurgan Empire, then the answer is unequivocally no.”

  Kaar stepped closer. “You have good reason not to trust us. There are many officers on my staff who think we are making a mistake asking for peace. I, however, do not. My religion tells me you are all unbelievers and as such you are a lesser species. But a lesser species wouldn’t have fought so bravely and as well as you have. You have all earned my respect.”

  Michael knew his father couldn’t follow the conversation and decided to push his luck. “Admiral, thank you for your kind words, but I’d like to know your views regarding the religious schism tearing your empire apart.”

  “I support the modernization of the Lord’s teachings. If a religion cannot evolve as the people who serve the Lord have, then the words have no meaning.”

  Admiral Sheridan brought up a hand to his mouth and coughed. “Gents, I hate to rush things, but we have to get moving. We have a briefing by Captain Killam and his staff to attend.”

  Kaar nodded. Before turning to leave, he placed a hand on Michael’s shoulder. “Major Sheridan, I need you and your generation to trust me. You fought this war, and anger fills your hearts for all we have done to your people. What we must do now is to learn to live without hate toward one another. Do you not agree?”

  “Yes, sir, I do,” replied Michael.

  “I thank you for your honesty, Major Sheridan.”

  Admiral Sheridan escorted Kaar off the landing bay. They were followed by a small retinue of Kurgan and Terran staff officers.

  “Jesus, sir,” said Cole, shaking his head. “It’s a bloody good thing your father doesn’t understand Kurgan. We’d both be in the brig right now if he did.”

  “I don’t think so,” replied Sheridan. “I was asked a blunt question, and I answered it honestly. That Kurgan admiral wanted me to say precisely what I did.”

  “He seemed like a pretty straightforward bloke. So do you trust him now?”

  “Not as far as I can throw him. And since he probably weighs close to two hundred kilos, I doubt I could even pick him up.”

  “Speaking of picking people up, we had best collect the two Sleeping Beauties from the back of the room before anyone notices they’re asleep
in their chairs.”

  Chapter 16

  Michael Sheridan picked up the pace on his treadmill. He had one kilometer to go, and he wanted to do it in under five minutes’ time. Sheridan’s shirt was soaked, and his face glistened with sweat. He was close to finishing a ten kilometer run in decent time when out of the corner of his eye he saw Cole enter the gymnasium.

  “I hate to spoil your run, but Captain Killam wants to see us,” said Cole as he dialed down the speed on Sheridan’s treadmill.

  Sheridan slowed down and began to walk. His heart was still racing in his chest. He reached over and grabbed his water bottle. “Did he say why?”

  “No. The word I got was for us to report to him ASAP. My spy on his staff said that he wants us to do something for him. I think it’s related to the peace talks.”

  Sheridan was curious. He took a long swig of water and got off the exercise machine. “Is that’s all you got out of your contact?”

  “Afraid so,” replied Cole, tossing his friend a towel to wipe the sweat from his face.

  “I guess I had best shower and get into a uniform.”

  “That would be the proper thing to do, sir,” said Cole, dryly.

  The atmosphere in the briefing room being used by Captain Killam’s planning team was one of controlled mayhem. Senior staff officers and enlisted personnel were furiously working on a series of problems. No one looked up as the door slid open. Sheridan and Cole stood in the doorway looking for Killam. Empty food trays and half-filled cups of cold coffee littered the room. The pungent smell of body odor wafted through the air.

  “Ah, there you are,” said Killam to the new arrivals. His uniform was in need of a good cleaning. Killam’s eyes were bloodshot. “Please follow me to a side room where we can talk in private.”

  They walked into a small office. A map of Kurgan space was lying on a table. Killam took hold of the map and turned it around so everyone could look at it. “Okay, gents, this map was provided to me by the Kurgans. It shows a small part of the disputed border area between ourselves and the Kurgans. Admiral Sheridan has asked me to dispatch a team to look into a disturbing report given to him by Admiral Oshiro regarding Harry Williams.”