by Chris Hechtl
Finally, a reporter got close to General Taylor. “I will not deny the report. It did come in from Magellan. We are checking it out now,” General Taylor said calmly.
“So, General, for the record you are not denying what Magellan has reported?” the reporter pressed.
“No, I'm not. They sent the transmission to me, the government, and apparently to their company. We are verifying what they have sent. They are going to transmit or hand carry their sensor data when they dock.”
Within a minute, Roman regretted the blunt honesty as his implant Wi-Fi link lit up with emails and text messages from his remaining staff as well as the staff from the administration and several prominent senators.
“If you'll excuse me, I've just been ordered to not speak on this further,” Roman said, brushing past the reporter. A marine cut the reporter off from following the general any further.
Captain Cooley shook his head as he saw the broadcast. Yeah, he liked the general, but he knew the other man was in for a world of hurt.
~~*^*~~
Roman pursed his lips as the president's chief of staff read him the riot act. He remained polite and didn't say anything. It was a rare time for him being called into the administration at all; he could count on his hands the number of times he'd been called in to speak with the president since the war had ended.
When the tirade got out of hand, Roman's temper got the better of him. “Are you quite finished venting?” he demanded.
The other man stared at him, red faced. “You …”
“No, my turn,” the general said firmly. The chief of staff blinked. “Here is the deal. I don't work for you. Yes, in theory the president is the commander in chief. He hasn't been interested in exercising that duty since he took office—not until now. I did not receive a gag order from you or him. You are not in my chain of command, so I do not accept orders from you.”
“I speak for the president!”
“I really don't give a damn who you speak for. He speaks to me, and it goes downhill from there. Understood?”
“Why in heaven's name would you perpetuate this … this hoax?” the chief of staff demanded.
“Because it isn't one,” the general said flatly. He realized that was the line the administration is taking. “My job is to take any threat seriously. This is a credible threat.”
“It's ludicrous!”
“And of course, you in your expert opinion know this because you've gone over the evidence thoroughly, talked to the other experts, and rendered that opinion to the president?”
“Well, it can't be … I mean …”
“Right,” the general replied dryly. “We don't have the whole story because Magellan hasn't given it to us yet. Until then, I have to take it seriously. That's my job. Preparing for a potential invasion is that job. Warning the public is part of that job.”
“You are going to face some tough questions on the hill, General. I hope you know that.”
“Like I haven't before?” Roman shook his head.
“I hope you don't expect any help from us! Not after this stunt!”
“Like I've gotten any help from any of you at all?” Roman demanded. The chief of staff grimaced. “Yeah, you don't own me or owe me any favors. I don't owe you any either,” Roman said, eyes dark. “Until I have evidence of a hoax, I have to take this threat seriously as the ranking military officer in the Confederation. I hope you will as well,” Roman stated.
“Now, excuse me, but I've got some work to do,” he said as he stormed out.
~~*^*~~
Stern Marines were on hand to take custody of the Magellan's data, thwarting the attempt by the government to make off with it and sequester the crew. The media was also on hand. Ynes immediately invoked her First Amendment right to freedom of speech and held an impromptu press conference right there in the docks, telling the crew's side of the story. A few of the crew and officers stopped and backed her up.
Captain Cooley was tempted to duck out but his retreat was cut off by all the warm bodies. Instead, he had to put up with a legal team from LGM as well as the government and a couple more Marines as they took him back onto his ship and he began the debriefing process.
~~*^*~~
“It looks legitimate General,” Captain Falcon said with a shake of his head. “I'm not an expert though.”
“You got a copy though?”
“I made three. I also made certain no accidents happened to the original copies.”
“Good man,” the general replied with a nod. “Get those copies and the interviews back here,” he ordered as he watched Ynes's interview on mute. She was kicking off a firestorm in the court of public opinion he knew. The fact that the crew really was saying there was a threat and that the government was trying to cover it up didn't play well with the public at all.
~~*^*~~
“Are you seeing this?” Tiffany Lewis said, watching the news footage.
“I am. And yeah, it scares me,” Captain Walter Lewis said to his wife and XO as he came into their quarters. “I take it the kids are on it?” he asked as he shucked his vest and hung it on a hook.
“All over it you mean. Everyone's talking about it,” Tiffany said, pursing her lips. “Are they serious?”
“Apparently. And we should take the threat seriously,” Walter replied.
“Why?” she asked, turning to him.
He blew out a breath as he collected his thoughts.
“So, what do we do?” she asked, clearly worried about the situation and its long-range implications.
“That's a damn good question. We obviously can't run, not in a sublight ship like Belmont Victory,” he replied as her eyes searched his for comfort and security. “Are you asking short term?” he asked, kicking himself when she bit her lip.
She grimaced, then tucked herself into his arms. He felt her shake a bit and then take a breath to calm herself.
“One way or another we'll get through it. Terra has seen worse than this, you know that,” he said as he stroked her hair and back gently. He felt and saw her nod gently.
~~*^*~~
The alarm stopped all loading of the colony ships headed to Rho sector and then all of them as the various company executives tried to figure out what to do. The crew of the Susan Constant had returned several weeks ago. With their mission on hold, they were at odds on what to do.
When word about Jack Lagroose's involvement hit the media and some skeptics pointed to collusion and a possible hoax, the crew stood up for Jack. Captain Siever pointed out they never saw anything like the skeptics were claiming. “He's a good and honorable man. We never saw any sort of arrangement like these people are claiming.”
“But the possibility exists,” a reporter insisted.
“So does the possibility of the tooth fairy and Santa Claus!” Captain Siever said, patience near exhausted. “Look, we were there. We spent a week there unloading the passengers. There were no Hollywood sets, Magellan wasn't there, and there were no aliens. The people, including the governor, were quite eager to get on with their lives and build their colony! They've been busting their buts to improve it! Why would they risk it all with … with this crap these people are accusing them of with no proof? All they've got is supposition. Not one shred of proof.”
“Some would say the same of Magellan since they didn't bring back a physical sample, just data. Data can be faked, Captain.”
“So, they should have asked the aliens to send over something? Like what, a missile perhaps? Come on!”
~~*^*~~
Captain Lewis watched the interview with Captain Siever and winced. The other man should have known better; he should have kept his temper. He shook his head. Obviously, the other man was frustrated, but venting like that was bad—bad for his image and long-term reputation.
He was trying to think of what to do since most of the starships had stopped moving when he got a call from a government number.
“Yes?” he asked as his communication's staff put th
e call through to his office. “Who is this?”
“Is this Captain Lewis?” an unfamiliar voice asked.
“Speaking.”
“Captain Walter Lewis?” the voice persisted.
“Yes. Look, if this is a crank call …”
“Please hold for General Taylor,” the voice abruptly said, cutting off his tirade.
Walter frowned at the phone. They were currently in Mars dock taking on stores for their next run to the outer colonies. Apparently, the caller … wait, did he say General Taylor? His orderly thoughts abruptly screeched to a halt.
“Captain Lewis,” a familiar voice said over the radio. “I'm sorry; this is an unsecure line. I'll keep it short,” the general said.
“Sir, it's an honor and …”
“Can it. Captain, when I asked around, just about everyone I talked to told me about a big system-wide naval simulator game. And when I had my staff look into it, one name kept coming up over and over. I think you know whose,” Roman said.
“Sir?”
“I want you, Captain. I'm not trying to melodramatic, but we need you to help set up some sort of defense. So, are you in or what?” Roman asked.
Walter thought about the implications, but he was already nodding to the unseen voice. “Yes, sir. Where do you want me?”
“For the moment, I'm frocking you to the rank of admiral. We don't have any, so it's a provisional rank. I want you in my office within twenty-four hours. I've already had my staff clear the way for you. Bring anyone you know can handle the job with you. I mean anyone. At this point any warm or electronic body is welcome,” he said.
“Yes, sir,” Walter said, already starting a mental checklist.
“Taylor out,” Roman replied, cutting the circuit from his end.
~~*^*~~
Captain Jan Kepler got out of the shower and dried her short hair with a towel. Some people liked an ultrasonic cleaning; it saved water. On a ship, that was important she knew. But she hated the damn things; they set her ears buzzing and her teeth on edge.
Her comm blinked, and she padded across the carpet to hit the acceptance key. “Yes?” she said after pressing the audio-only key. “What is it?”
“Call for you, ma'am, from Captain Lewis,” Sam replied.
“Oh, really?” she drawled. “Put him through,” she said. There was a click, and then a voice cleared its throat. “Calling for a rematch, Walt? I docked yesterday. I'm only going to be in port another couple of hours I'm afraid.”
“Actually, no. I've got something more important in mind,” Walter replied as Jan pulled a sports bra on and then took her coverall out of the refresher. She smelled it carefully.
“You still there?”
“Yeah, I'm getting dressed,” she said.
“I catch you in the shower again?”
“You and my family I swear! If one of you calls me again when I'm on the loo, I'll … grr!”
He chuckled.
She shook her head at the absurdity of the universe. “So, what's up?”
“You heard about the alien invasion?” he asked.
“Yes,” she drawled. “Who hasn't?” she asked as she pulled her coverall on but belted the sleeves around her waist for the moment.
“It's real.”
She blinked and stared at the speaker and screen with his image. “Are you …”
“Yes,” he replied. “I've been tapped to do something about them, which means building a navy. General Taylor graciously called and offered me the rank of admiral. I accepted.”
“You … wow,” she said, sitting on the edge of her rack. “Congratulations,” she said as she put her boots on.
“So, want to help me build a real navy and save civilization?” he asked whimsically.
“Shit,” Jan said after a long moment of silence. “You are serious,” she said with a shake of her head as she turned her camera on.
“As a heart attack, Jan,” he said, eyes firm and unyielding.
“Walt, this stuff, it'll make or break us, you know that? If this turns out to be a hoax or not a real threat, we'll be destroying our careers. Possibly destroying any hope of a navy ever,” she warned.
“I know. I've got to take it seriously though. Hopefully, we'll get the data as soon as we report in and get our debrief,” Walter said. “So, are you in or out?” he asked.
“I'm in. I'm going to need someone to take over for me though,” she said as she began to mentally go through everything that needed to be done before she jumped ship.
“Get on it fast. Consider it an exercise if you must. We've got ten hours to report to the general's office,” Walter replied. “And I don't intend to be late.”
“Funny.”
“No, what's funny is I was serious. But I also need a list from you on other potential recruits.”
“Frack me,” Jan said as she ran a hand through her bangs.
“Not on my worst day. My wife would have my balls, and I'm rather attached to them,” Walter quipped.
Jan's lips quivered. She shook her head wryly. “Okay, I'll start with Rogers, Daringer I think, but he's a kid. Also, um, Renoir. He's good, but he's just an XO in real life. Damn,” she said running through her mental list before she realized some of the people were scattered all over the solar system.
“Shoot me the list as you pack. I've got more calls to make. If you can make them too, do it. We'll sort out rank and the chain of command later,” Walter said as he hung up.
“Right,” Jan said as she scratched her head. “Where to start?” she muttered.
~~*^*~~
Captain Lewis's call for help went out onto the naval simulator forums and then hit the gaming grapevine. From there it was picked up by the media covering gaming and then passed on to the mainstream media. There was some amusement given the source, but some saw the logic in recruiting the nearest experts to naval strategy. Volunteers began to take interest. A few stepped up. Some weren't sure where to go, but when the Marines didn't turn them away, more showed up. A few brought equipment, then one owner captain offered the service of her ship and crew. It was not turned away.
That told the public and media that the Marines were taking the threat seriously and were not certain they could handle the job. It sparked a brief instant of panic in some, but patriotism in others.
~~*^*~~
Thirteen-year-old Roger Daringer was almost bored with his current opponent as he coasted his way to victory. The guy should have known better than to challenge someone outside his rank. Idly he checked the guy's stats as he accessed a script bot to deal with the incoming missile spread. He scanned the short bio quickly as his bot picked off the outer layer of missiles. According to the bio, his opponent was a twenty-something professional gamer; someone who was into the tournament circuit. He shook his head. Obviously, the guy was just starting out with naval strategy, Roger thought. And the best way to do that was to get beat a few times and watch the experts. But still, did he have to pick Roger?
“Roger?” a text bar asked at the bottom of his vision.
He frowned, but since he was winning handily, he tapped on the accept icon. “What's up, Jan? Want another rematch? I'm almost done with this wanna be,” he said. He glanced at the clock and blanched. “But I've got a class in thirty,” he warned.
“Rain check, Roger. I've got a proposal for you. Not something for you to give me a yeah or nay right off. And obviously, you need seasoning before we can tuck you in to where you'd like to really be …” Jan drawled.
Roger flushed. He liked the idea of being on a ship but he wanted a starship, not a subby.
“Like what?” he asked guardedly.
“Well, as it happens we've been tapped to put the best and brightest together. Somehow your name came up. I'm not sure why,” she drawled.
“Tell me more,” he said with a snort.
~~*^*~~
Kioshi Varbossa? I'm hoping I can talk you into a new position. No, not with my company or on my ship,” Captain Lewis sa
id as his wife rubbed his shoulders. He was talking himself hoarse trying to get through to people while also wearing his fingers to the nub writing emails. He'd been tempted to just put a message up on the game boards, but apparently, someone else had done that. Tiffany had told him the communications department was getting swamped by calls, most of them from the media.
Tiff was keeping track of who could make it and who was out of range. So far, he had several hundred people on tap but only two dozen were ready to meet him tomorrow. Some of the people he'd called were from the old guard, personnel who'd manned the ships during the A.I. war. A few were merchant marines, but there were also a few avid gamers. He wasn't certain what to do with the gamers—other than to stick them in some sort of strategic think tank at the moment.
Already some people were excited and working on mods for the Naval gaming platforms, trying to turn them into Sims. He shook his head at that.
“Look, Kioshi, I'm calling because I want to know if you are in or around Mars in the next …,” he glanced at the digital clock and then grimaced , “eight hours. I've been asked to assemble a team, core personnel. You are on my list.”
“I am not sure I can get the time off work. But if I can I will,” Kioshi replied.
“It's worth your time. Worth your company's time,” Walter said almost desperately. He knew Kioshi; they'd crossed paths both in the shipping industry as well as in the gaming community.
“I'll … do what I can. Where do you want to meet up?” Kioshi asked.
“I'll text you the address and the permission letter. You'll need the letter to get through security. The Marines are tight. Dress professionally.”
“Is this an interview?” Kioshi asked. “Walter, this is a company line. I'm, um, happy with my job.”
“And I'm glad to hear that. But this is beyond that. Way beyond job security. You could say this is making sure there is a job to come back to. Don't let me down, Kioshi; we need you,” Walter said.