In the Presence of My Enemies

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In the Presence of My Enemies Page 4

by Stephen A. Fender


  Not far from where the two men were standing, Commander Caitlyn Hayes, the Rhea’s third in command, stepped forward to a waiting podium. She straighten her long, light brown hair one final time before speaking. “Assembled personnel, get into your assigned positions and stand at parade rest. The admiral’s shuttle will be arriving shortly.”

  As soon as the Rhea’s outer airlock doors were sealed, Commander Hayes brought the assembly to attention with a perfunctory, “Atten-hut!”

  All that’s missing is the fleet band blaring the Sector Command fight song. Shawn muttered as much to Saltori, whose attempt to muffle his laughter was both admirable and somewhat useless. Thankfully, Captain Krif—who was standing stock-still ten feet from them—either didn’t hear or pay them any attention.

  The Unified shuttle, looking for all intents like a great silver bullet, glided through the now-open inner hangar doors. Within moments of setting down, the doors parted and a throng of personnel exited the craft—far more than Shawn thought it could hold. By their epaulets, Shawn could see that the first of them was an admiral, followed by a pair of ship captains. Behind them were a handful of aides, both uniformed and not. None of the arriving personnel spoke to one another as they approached Captain Krif and the Rhea’s towering executive officer, Commander Ashdoe.

  “Captain Krif,” the admiral began and offered a salute. “Permission to come aboard.”

  Krif returned the salute with crisp perfection. “Permission granted. Welcome, Admiral Hansen.”

  Hansen, the tips of his blond hair now silver, turned to the first of his officers. “This is Fleet Captain Ramos, commanding the Duchess of York.”

  Krif nodded toward Ramos, but otherwise said nothing.

  “I’ll save the rest of the introductions for a later time,” Hansen said, and then began scanning the well-organized cadre of the Rhea’s personnel. “Where is Rear Admiral Graves? I was told he was on board.”

  “The admiral has been detained, sir, along with three Kafarans who came aboard with him.”

  Hansen turned to face Krif, and Shawn swore he saw a scowl cross the superior officer’s face. “I see.” The admiral appeared lost in thought for a moment, then turned—not to the officers who had arrived with him, but instead to the civilians. One in particular, a well-dressed man about Shawn’s age, seemed to be the target of Hansen’s gaze. The two men exchanged a nod, and then Hansen turned back to Krif.

  “I think that confinement will no longer be necessary. Please see to it that Rear Admiral Graves is released, as well as the Kafarans, and remanded into the custody of OSI Agent Melissa Graves.”

  Shawn watched with satisfaction as Krif looked to the admiral nervously. “Sir, Agent Graves has also … been detained.”

  Hansen pursed his lips, then shook his head slowly. “See to it that Agent Graves is also released, Captain.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And, am I to assume that Lieutenant Commander Kestrel has been arrested as well?”

  Krif’s chin rose as he swallowed hard. “No, sir. Lieutenant Commander Kestrel is present and accounted for.”

  “Will wonders never cease.” The admiral looked to the assembled crewmen. When he caught sight of Shawn, Hansen nodded with a smile.

  Looking at the Admiral for the first time, Shawn had no idea who he was, nor why Hansen had taken such an interest in him.

  “I’ve set up a reception in the wardroom,” said Krif. “With your permission, I’d like to—”

  “No, Captain. I think not. I have a briefing that needs to get underway as soon as possible.”

  “Of course, Admiral. I’ve got a room all set up and waiting.”

  Hansen nodded. “Excellent. I’d like Admiral Graves and his daughter there as well.”

  “Yes, sir,” replied the captain curtly, with a hint of embarrassment.

  Hansen then tossed an offhanded thumb over his left shoulder. “And Lieutenant Commander Kestrel as well. After all, this concerns him too.”

  “Perhaps his mechanic should be there as well,” Krif all but snapped, his quiet agitation boiling over to frustration.

  The admiral leveled his eyes at Krif, likely over the insolence of the captain’s statement, but changed tactics before his authority overrode his better judgment. “No, Captain. I think we’ll have everyone we need.” He then leaned closer to Krif and lowered his tone. “But rest assured, if I need anyone else, I’m sure you’ll make them available to me.”

  Krif pursed his lips. “Yes, sir. Of course.”

  “Good,” replied the admiral in a satisfied, almost jovial tone. “Then by all means, lead the way, captain. We have a great deal to discuss today.”

  The briefing room was silent as each of the requested personnel came in. Admiral Hansen was at the head of the long silver table, with Captains Ramos to his right. Shawn left several seats open between himself and Ramos, hoping they would be filled by William and Melissa. When they entered the room through a far door, the two nimbly sat next to Ramos. Melissa’s only acknowledgement of Shawn was a brief glance in his direction before she turned her gaze to Admiral Hansen. Before Shawn could say anything to her, the chair beside him moved and Richard Krif sat squarely in it. At the far end of the table sat the final two men who had journeyed with Hansen to the Rhea, both wearing civilian suits of dark colors. They had blank, unwavering expressions as they waited for Hansen to begin the briefing.

  Behind them, refusing to take chairs that were offered to them, were Commodore Savath and Colonel Tausan. Their shuttle pilot was nowhere to be seen.

  “Now that everyone is here, I’ll begin the introductions.” Hansen gestured to the older of the two civilians first. “This is Senior OSI Agent Mallory. He arrived on board the Duchess only a few days before we made the final jump to Second Earth. Other than orders to make sure he was at this briefing, I’m afraid I know very little about why he’s here.”

  Hansen then motioned to the younger man. “This is Unified Ambassador Scott McDermott. I happen to know a great deal about why the Ambassador has joined us. With that being said, I’ve been given full power to act on behalf of the Secretary of Sector Command in these discussions.” Admiral Hansen then nodded to Agent Mallory. “Likewise, Mister Mallory is here representing the Office of Special Investigations, and has been given authority by the OSI director to act on his behalf.”

  Melissa straightened in her chair. “I thought that was my job.”

  Shawn noted that Melissa and Mallory locked gazes for a moment before Mallory spoke. “Agent Graves, you’re being … reassigned.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Admiral Hansen raised a hand toward Melissa, effectively silencing her. “All in good time, Agent Graves.” He then looked at the young ambassador. “Mister McDermott is here as the combined voice of both the Unified Council and the Unified president.”

  McDermott looked far too young to shoulder such a burden. Many of the council members were well advanced in age, far from the virile young man seated at the table before them. Shawn wondered how someone so young had amassed so much respect so quickly.

  The room was silent once again. Everyone assembled seemed to be looking at one another, trying to ascertain what was going on. When no one spoke for nearly a minute, Hansen took the initiative.

  “This is an open briefing, and I want everyone’s honest opinions here. And since no one is going to mention the proverbial white elephant in the room, I’m just going to put it out there myself: What are we going to do about the Kafarans?”

  “Destroy them,” Krif all but spat, turning a cold gaze to Savath.

  “Out of the question,” Hansen replied flatly.

  “Of all the—,” William began, but was cut off by Fleet Captain Ramos.

  “With the arrival of the Duchess of York and her strike group, we now have the superior numbers, Captain Krif. I highly doubt the Kafarans are in a position to be the aggressors.” The captain of the Duchess, leaning back in his chair, steepled his fingers together and l
ooked casually to Admiral Hansen.

  “Despite what Captains Krif desires on the matter, there will be no hostile actions taken against the Kafarans at this time,” Hansen replied calmly.

  “Outrageous,” Krif bellowed. “They’re our sworn enemies! There’s no formal peace treaty between us, and they still have countless scores of wartime atrocities to account for.”

  Hansen leaned forward, leveling his eyes at the Rhea’s captain. “I speak directly for the commander in chief of Sector Command on this issue, Captain. There will be no hostilities toward the Kafarans so long as I am around.” He then reached into a handbag, withdrew a computer tablet, and slid it across the table to Krif. His eyes quickly moved to the Kafarans at the rear of the room. “You have my word on that, Commodore Savath.”

  Shawn looked at Savath, who nodded his head in understanding.

  “But,” Krif all but sputtered, reading the tablet and then tossing it aside. “Sector Command is under the control of the Unified Council. Surely the president must have—”

  It was Ambassador McDermott who interrupted Krif this time. However, the ambassador’s gaze fell not on the disgruntled captain of the Rhea, but on the Kafaran commodore. “I think it’s time we put some of those outmoded views of the past behind us. Wouldn’t you agree, Commodore Savath?”

  Savath nodded once again.

  “A peace treaty?” Krif snapped. “Is that what this is all about?” He then turned to Hansen. “I’d half-expect this type of rubbish to come from Admiral Graves or his daughter, but not from someone like yourself, sir.”

  “Watch your tone, Captain,” Hansen said coldly. “Or you’ll soon find yourself on the losing end of my patience. This is an informal briefing, not your private soapbox. And, no, not a formal peace treaty.”

  “Then I don’t—”

  “An agreement,” said Senior Agent Mallory. “Between the Unified Collaboration of Systems and the Kafaran Alliance.”

  “Them?” Krif asked indignantly as he pointed a shaky finger at Colonel Tausan.

  Mallory smirked. “To be more precise, with their combined forces: the Army of Light. I’ve been told that Commodore Savath has been authorized to speak on their behalf.”

  “And how did you come by this information?” Krif asked.

  “By me, Richard,” William Graves said, leaning toward Krif as it to emphasize his words.

  “You? In my eyes, you’re as guilty as those … things are.”

  William balled his fists and slammed them atop the table. “Damn it! Did you really think I would have given the Kafarans any information about Sector Command without first getting express permission from the Unified Government? How much of a fool do you take me for, Captain?”

  “Gentleman,” Hansen said calmly, holding out his hands toward the bickering officers. “That’s enough. Admiral Graves has been acting under orders, and doing a commendable job of it, since he was taken aboard the Kafaran carrier.” Hansen then fully turned to William. “And to be honest, Bill, before this is all over, I think we’re going to owe you a hell of a lot of gratitude.”

  Shawn watched as William smiled softly.

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Hansen nodded, then turned back to the officers. “Agent Mallory, I’m sure you have more information on this proposed alliance?”

  “The OSI has been aware of the existence of the Army of Light for some time. In fact, it wasn’t long after we made that discovery that we learned of the Meltranians. We were hoping this was just going to be an internal struggle that was strictly confined to Kafaran space. However, when we learned that the Meltranians had discovered the location of Second Earth, we knew we could no longer sit idly by and watch their war pan out.”

  Melissa nodded in understanding. “The disappearance of the planet’s orbiting defensive satellites.”

  “Precisely,” Mallory acknowledged. “And, more than that, the likely compromise of Project Windstorm, or parts thereof. In lieu of the destruction of the Valley Forge strike group and the losses suffered by the Rhea—the OSI and the Unified Council fully accept the Kafarans’ assertions that the Meltranians need to be stopped.”

  Ambassador McDermott turned to face Commodore Savath. “The president and the Unified Council have agreed to ally with the Kafarans, meaning a total and immediate cessation of all hostilities between our two peoples for the foreseeable future.”

  Shawn watched as Admiral Hansen took a deep breath before rubbing his chin absently. Likewise, a prominent vein in Krif’s forehead looked as if it were about to burst.

  “And the Council believes that this combined … coalition will be able to thwart the Meltranians?” Krif asked of McDermott.

  But it was Admiral Hansen who spoke. “Hold them off, perhaps keep them at bay for several months. But defeat them?” He then shook his head gravely. “No. We don’t believe so.”

  “Then what are we going to do about it?” William asked, directing the question at everyone gathered.

  Hansen nodded. “We can’t win this fight, ladies and gentleman. Agent Mallory and I have been going over the numbers the last twenty-four hours, correlating what little data our respective agencies have come up with about the Meltranians, the Army of Light, and current offensive and defensive strategies of Sector Command. To put it as bluntly as possible, even this combined force simply doesn’t have the resources at our disposal to mount a sufficient counteroffensive against an invading force with as much power as the Meltranians are wielding.”

  “What about Project Windstorm?” William asked. “I’ve been able to gather an extraordinary amount of data on it, both from Second Earth and the archives on Corvan. Surely we can build—”

  Agent Mallory interrupted him. “There isn’t enough time to reinitiate the program, Admiral.”

  “Then we need to make the time,” Fleet Captain Ramos said matter-of-factly.

  Hansen nodded. “That is our assessment as well. In order to do so, we’ll need to add another chair at our proverbial table.”

  “Meaning what, exactly?” Shawn finally piped in, no longer content to sit idly by.

  The table was silent for a moment before Ambassador McDermott spoke up. “The Rugorians.”

  Everyone present took a collective breath, all except for Shawn and William, who exchanged worried glances before the lieutenant commander spoke again.

  “Sir … gentleman, begging your pardon, but you can’t be serious. They’re pirates.”

  “We’re quite serious, Commander Kestrel,” Hansen replied. “They are the only ones with the proper resources capable of augmenting our own.”

  Shawn looked around the table in disbelief. “Sir, you’ll forgive me, but I have some experience with them. During the war, they aligned themselves with the Kafarans. Admiral Graves and I dealt with them on a number of occasions. Then, after the Kafarans evacuated Unified space, the Rugorians became a band of thieves … cutthroat pirates, if you will. I tussled with them a number of times while hauling freight both in and out of Unified space. They can’t be reasoned with, and certainly aren’t trustworthy.”

  Admiral Hansen smiled at Shawn. “And that’s precisely why you’re here, Commander Kestrel. You have intimate knowledge of them, their tactics, and their combat capabilities. Having said that, you’ve been tasked—per the CIC of Sector Command himself—with getting Ambassador McDermott to the planet Rugor for diplomatic negotiations.”

  Wait … what? “Me?” Shawn asked in both shock and disbelief.

  Agent Mallory leaned over the table, placing his folded hands before him. “You’ll be in charge of getting Ambassador McDermott to the planet, Commander. Agent Graves will be in charge of his safety once he arrives. And, being that the Rugorians were once allied with the Kafarans, it’s been decided that Colonel Tausan will also accompany you.”

  Shawn turned slowly to the Kafaran officer. The two let out mutual groans of dissatisfaction.

  “Lieutenant Commander Kestrel is not who I would consider the best pilot
for this mission,” Krif began, but was silenced when Hansen raised a firm hand.

  “I didn’t say lieutenant commander, Captain Krif. I said commander,” Hansen corrected, “Effective immediately, I might add.” He then turned to face Shawn. “Commander, when can you be ready to leave?”

  “…Oh, save me. Save me from tomorrow.

  I don’t want to sail with this ship of fools.”

  —Quoted lyrics from unknown musical ensemble,

  Old Earth, unidentified century (possibly 22nd).

  Chapter 3

  As the door to his cabin slid open, Shawn was greeted by Melissa. Happy to see her walking about the corridors of the ship once more, he was nonetheless at a loss for words, her sparkling eyes and beautiful face catching him momentarily off guard. He smiled at her, wordlessly stepping aside and giving her room to enter the compartment. She stepped silently into the center of the cabin, and Shawn watched as her head tilted toward his chaotic suitcase.

  “Melissa, I’m sorry I didn’t—,” he began, but his words were cut off as Melissa whirled on her heel and slapped him smartly across his cheek.

  “That’s for not coming down to the brig after I was arrested!” she snapped.

  Shawn tried to rub away the sting. “Look, I was about to say I was sorry. The last twenty-four hours have been fairly chaotic around here, if you hadn’t noticed. After your father was arrested—”

  She quickly slapped his other cheek.

  “What the hell was that for?” he asked, stunned.

  “Same as before, but that one came from my father.”

  Now rubbing both his cheeks, Shawn stepped back in fear of another attack. “I should have seen that one coming,” he muttered, then turned to get a glass of water. “Anything else?” he asked after taking a sip.

  Melissa seemed to ponder it for a moment, her eyes narrowed and menacing, her cheeks flushed. “Unfortunately, nothing I can think of presently, but I’m sure you’ll give me a reason soon enough.”

  “So, was coming down here business or purely pleasure?”

  Melissa rolled her eyes, then snatched the glass from his hand. “Both,” she said, then finished his drink. Looking back to the suitcase, she noticed half the clothes were struggling to get out, like rats abandoning a sinking ship. “You know, you’d get those to fit—”

 

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