“General who?” Trel said.
“It was from a war that happened a long time ago,” Mehta said. “He received an order to take his division right up the center of the battlefield, right to where they thought their enemy would be weakest. But it meant his soldiers had to pass through a wide field without any cover or concealment, going up against a position that had been highly reinforced. Most of the soldiers were killed before they reached the other side.”
“This would be a much worse disaster,” Ramirez said. “Millions of people would be killed. And you would have failed your mission.”
“I understand that,” she said.
“How can you allow yourself to fail? You have to remember the intent. Not just the exact orders, but what they want you to accomplish with those orders. That’s totally different.”
She stared at him. “And what was the intent?”
“To save Earth.”
Mehta turned to Hiranaka. “What was your understanding of the intent?”
“To save the Mralans.”
“And yours?” she said to Davis.
“To get the Mralans to cooperate with us,” he said.
She sighed. “Now we’re guessing, just like the Mralans were doing with the Spirits.”
“It’s not the same,” Ramirez said.
“The only thing in writing is my assignment orders. Nobody gave me a commander’s intent, and if I had gotten one, it would have been from the Council. So, this is what I have to go with. I don’t see any other options.”
She looked back at Chlem, took a deep breath, and then her hand came down on the microphone button. “Very well,” she managed to say. “I surrender this ship. How shall we proceed?”
“You can’t do that!” Ramirez said, jumping to his feet. He rushed at her, but Trel grabbed his arms and yanked him backward.
“Excuse me,” she said to Chlem, then cut off the sound again.
“You can’t!” Ramirez said. “You’re only doing this because you’re afraid of them! You’re doing it to cover up your own weakness!”
“She’s not afraid,” Trel said into his ear. “Although you did give her a bit of a start.”
“Take your hands off me.” Trel let go, and Ramirez straightened himself. “I cannot support this decision.”
“This is not a democracy,” Mehta said. “Nor is it a consensus. I am the commander, and I have made my decision.”
“But it’s wrong!”
“Maybe Aahliss was right about you, then? I told her you would obey orders. Did I misjudge you?”
Ramirez puckered his face, then looked away from her. “No. You didn’t misjudge me.”
“Then there won’t be any more of these outbursts?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Okay,” she said, then turned the sound on again. “What are your instructions?”
“Take yourself and your people down to the shuttle hangar. We’ll send a crew over to pilot the ship back to Mralan space, and we’ll transport your human personnel back to Earth.”
“Before we go back, can you give one of my people some medical attention? He’s badly injured.”
“We’ll send a doctor.”
“Thank you.”
Chlem nodded, and then the auxiliary screen went dark.
Mehta looked over the bridge, at the people she had disappointed. No one said anything.
They didn’t have to say anything.
They were being nice by not saying anything.
She had failed. She wasn’t going to get promoted. In fact, she was probably going to be asked to retire. This was the biggest mistake in her entire career, wrong in so many important ways, but right at the same time. And that was why it was so galling.
And when she died and went to the other side, she would locate General Pickett and they could sit together and commiserate about the stupidity of the leadership.
She sighed. “Let’s head to the shuttle hangar.”
“Right,” Ramirez said.
“Give Davis a hand there,” she said, pointing to Trel and Ramirez.
“I’m okay,” Davis said, coming to his feet. But then he wobbled.
“We won’t carry you, man,” Ramirez said. “Just put your arms around our shoulders.”
“Okay. I can do that.”
She watched the three exit the bridge, then motioned for Hiranaka and Opash to follow. That gave her the last look at the bridge, at the ship that had given her so much hope, at the possibilities it had represented for Earth and the protection it would have offered them.
Then she turned her back on it all.
CHAPTER FOURTY-ONE
They reached the shuttle hangar right about the same time the shuttle from Chlem’s ship arrived. Mehta watched it pull into a slot and heard the door behind it close. The thudding noise as it snapped shut echoed through the cavernous room, reverberating on her chest like the overpressure from an artillery explosion. She waited several heartbeats longer, standing stiffly at the position of attention. Her little crew stood behind her, like a color guard, or a staff standing behind the executive officer on a parade.
But this was no parade. This was a disaster.
And she hadn’t stopped trying to come up with something better. As they had walked from the bridge to the shuttle hangar they had discussed what options remained. Were there any council members they could convince they were making a mistake? Would Trel and Opash have any credibility with their fellow Mralans?
No, those two were probably in more trouble than Mehta was. She would just be asked to retire. She would feel the weight of guilt as her planet struggled to fend off the Dakh Hhargash without the tools she was supposed to have given them. And maybe they would put her to work with the physicists and engineers to try to figure out how to create the technology. Maybe something she knew would lead to a breakthrough. But she would not be put in jail or fined or punished in any other way.
Trel and Opash, on the other hand, were facing some sort of punishment. Chlem had made that clear. So, before Mehta returned to Earth, she would try to defend them. She would argue before the Final Arbiter (assuming she could get access to him) that they had only done what they believed was best for their own people.
The shuttle door popped open, easing its way down to the floor to create its ramp. Then, a hunched figure stepped into the doorway.
Oh, god, not Aahliss. She would probably take great pleasure in gloating, in reminding them that she had won.
And she looked as stern as ever. This was not going to be a pleasant conversation.
Aahliss grabbed the side of the door opening and stepped onto the little ramp, shuffling down the incline, her eyes cast down as though she needed to observe every step she took. When she reached the bottom, she stopped and straightened herself, at least as much as she was able, then looked toward Mehta.
“Welcome to my ship,” Mehta said.
Behind Aahliss, another crew member followed, carrying a canvas bag over his shoulder. He walked directly to Lieutenant Colonel Davis and they began to whisper.
Aahliss looked at the group arrayed there, then leaned forward slightly. “Come closer,” she said.
Of course. They were too far away for Aahliss to be able to parse who was feeling what.
She looked back at the crew standing behind her. The doctor had already taken Davis over to the side of the room, and he was sitting on the floor. The rest of them waited for her orders. She forced herself not to say something like “forward, march,” as that would only be appropriate if all the staff understood drill and ceremonies. Then she walked forward, and when she’d come within about ten paces of Aahliss, she put out her hand to signal that she was going to stop.
Aahliss nodded and took two steps forward. “Do you surrender your ship?” she said.
Mehta hesitated. Was there any alternative? Was there any way she could talk her way out of this? Well, not with Aahliss. That old fart had her mind already made up.
Aahliss’ eyebrows ro
se.
Yeah, feel my anger, you old bitch. And when you realize what a mistake you’ve made… you’ll come back on bloodied knees and we’ll demand ten times as much as we would have before.
“Do you surrender your ship?” Aahliss said again.
Mehta wanted to reach out and strangle Aahliss right where she stood. Then they’d overpower the rest of the shuttle crew and…
No. Of course not.
She had orders.
They were legal orders.
Stupid, but legal.
“I surrender my ship.”
“Damn you,” Aahliss said, her hand snapping into a gnarled fist. “Damn you! Why are you obeying now?”
God, that was not the reaction Mehta had expected. Where was the gloating?
“Excuse me? That’s what I’ve been teaching the whole time I’ve been with you people. We obey our orders. Even if we don’t agree. Why would I go against what I’ve been telling you?”
Aahliss glanced from one end of the group behind Mehta to the other, then rolled her eyes.
What was the matter with her?
“I thought you obeyed because it would get you the rewards you wanted.”
“That’s always a factor,” Mehta admitted. No point trying to lie about it. “But the main reason is good order and discipline.”
“You think you’ll be rewarded for obeying this order?”
“No.” Again, Mehta imagined all the disappointment she would face when she returned to Earth, and how many men were going to say that if they had been sent, instead of this incompetent woman, they would have succeeded.
Hell, there was one standing right behind her.
Aahliss took another step toward Mehta, looking up into her eyes. “You really believe this will end in your downfall, don’t you?”
“I’m not sure how bad it’ll be.”
Aahliss nodded, and her gaze moved around the room, as though she no longer wanted to make eye contact. “You’ll get promoted,” she said.
“I didn’t know Mralans told fortunes.”
“You mean, foretell the future?” Aahliss chuckled. “We don’t. But I have information.”
Mehta waited for a moment, hoping Aahliss would find the silence so uncomfortable that she’d begin to talk, but Aahliss said nothing. “Would you mind filling me in?”
“I think it’s a little too galling for her,” someone said from the shuttle door.
Mehta looked in the direction of the voice. “Mediator!”
He leaned against the frame of the door. “You want to explain it to her, Counselor?”
Aahliss’ frown deepened, and she waved her hand at the Final Arbiter. “You do it.”
“Okay,” he said, then straightened and stepped down the ramp. “Aahliss and I made a bet. She was convinced that if we had an alliance, you wouldn’t follow orders. You’d demand others follow yours, but you would believe you were above all that.”
Mehta looked back at Aahliss. “That’s why you’re angry.” She had lost the bet. She’d been proven wrong.
“She’s been hoping, all the way over here, that you would come up with something devious to regain your ship. She was expecting you to jump her and the rest of the crew, and try to, I don’t know, use them as hostages to get us to let you go.”
Mehta nodded. “I had thought of something like that, but I rejected it.”
“Why?”
“It would have meant committing a crime. So even if I’d given the order, the humans in my crew would’ve refused to obey.”
“Because it would not have been a legal order?”
“Correct.”
“Interesting.”
“Plus, it was something I couldn’t bring myself to do. I’m not a bully, and I don’t take hostages.”
Chlem nodded.
“So,” Mehta said,” how did you know I wasn’t just waiting for the rest of the crew to disembark before I put my evil plan into action?”
Aahliss sighed. “I could sense it,” she said. “Both your resignation and your complete devastation. You wouldn’t have felt such deep despair if you’d had one more plan to try.”
“True,” Mehta said. “So, does this mean we have an alliance?”
“It does.”
“But we haven’t worked out the details. There are some things we have to resolve.”
“We’re giving you this ship,” Chlem said, making a broad gesture with his arm. “And, since you’re responsible for winning against two other ships, we’ve sent crews over to bring them back to Earth, as well.”
“Really?”
“What are allies for?” Chlem said.
“That’s fantastic!” Hiranaka said.
Mehta smiled. “Okay, you’ve agreed to let us have the technology, and then we’ll provide manpower to operate enough ships to return the Protectorate to its original boundaries.”
“Exactly.” He looked pleased, like he thought everything was settled. But there was one more issue.
“Oh, no,” Aahliss said. She took a step backward.
Mehta swallowed. Should she take this risk?
She had to. There was no way they could operate together in any other manner or train the members of the Mralan fleet without more involvement.
“That’s not enough,” Mehta said.
“We’ve given you everything your government asked for!” Aahliss said.
“But I have a lot more information now than we did then,” Mehta said, “and I’m certain my government will agree with what I’m thinking now.”
“Yes, you are,” Aahliss said, looking into her eyes, then taking another step backward.
Chlem stepped off the ramp and walked toward Mehta, stopping when he reached Aahliss’ side. “What do you propose?”
“For the first few decades of the alliance, the commander of the fleet needs to be a human,” she said. “We take our mission from the council of the Protectorate, but the fleet operations center and the fleet headquarters need to be relocated to Earth. And every ship in the fleet will have a human commander, until the Mralans have enough training and experience to take on that role themselves.”
Chlem frowned. “It’s not wise to add these additional requirements.”
“I don’t want to send our military personnel out to serve under incompetent commanders. I don’t want to have to explain to grieving parents why their son or daughter got killed because the Mralans are resisting everything we tell them to do.”
“It won’t be like that,” Chlem said.
Mehta looked at Aahliss. “Do you agree? The Mralans on the other ships won’t resist? They’ll all agree to take orders and follow our procedures?”
Aahliss glanced up at Chlem, eyes glistening.
Chlem sighed. “I don’t have the authority to order them to change their way of running their ships.”
“It’s going to be a challenge,” Mehta said. “I understand that. And we’re going to need to very carefully select the people who work with the Mralans. So, we would need a Mralan to screen our candidates, especially for ship captain. We have to know he or she will be someone you can work with, and someone we can trust.”
Chlem raised his brows. “You’re saying we can’t trust all humans.”
“Exactly,” Mehta said. “There have been commanders who have abused their authority and committed crimes. We need to do everything possible to make sure those types don’t get on your ships.” She shrugged. “Until now, we haven’t had an effective way to tell who was trustworthy, and who wasn’t.”
“Aahliss,” Chlem said, “you picked well when you selected this human to lead the effort. Would you be willing to take the post of screening future captains and crew?”
Aahliss looked back at Mehta, her expression pleading. “It would be difficult.”
Chlem smiled. “Then it’s settled.”
Aahliss’ smile wavered, then her eyes darted to the left and her mouth fell open. “Oh my!” she said.
The Final Arbiter looked toward
the corner of the room, in the direction of Aahliss’ gaze, and he grinned. “They’re back!”
“The Spirits?” Opash said, grabbing Mehta by the arm. “Look! Aren’t they beautiful?”
Mehta turned and saw a stream of wispy blue descending through the air, then slipping into a thin, transparent tube that had been placed in the corner.
My god, they’re real.
“Strange that Species X would install Spirit tubes in their ships,” Chlem said.
“They were just following your construction diagrams,” Mehta said. “They didn’t know what it was for.”
Aahliss fell to her knees. “Oh, Colonel Mehta, thank you for saving us, and for bringing back the Spirits.”
This was getting uncomfortable. “Please get off your knees.”
Aahliss sighed a little laugh. “Of course.”
Then, one of the blue ribbons of puff swam through the air to Mehta and hovered for a moment over her head. And the peace that they were said to give filled her, and for a moment, her body seemed to lift off the floor and float, even though her feet were still firmly planted on the deck.
And she knew everything would be fine.
EPILOG
When they got back to Earth, the first thing Mehta’s crew had to endure was a thorough physical examination. That was followed by debriefings, which took several days. But at least Mehta got a break in the middle of it all to attend a dinner at the White House, where Chlem was the guest of honor.
By the time all of that was complete, the alliance between the two sides had been hashed out, signed, and ratified by congress. Amazing what the government could do when there was a sense of urgency.
That left Mehta wondering what she would be doing next, and soon she had an appointment with personnel at the Pentagon, where she would find out.
Colonel Freeman met her at the entrance. “Long time no see.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Hell, you’re an important person now. They assigned me to escort you.” He gestured down the hall, and they began walking.
Mehta scoffed. “You mean they assigned you to make sure I don’t go where I’m not allowed.”
“You do have a reputation for being headstrong,” he said with a smile and a wink. He indicated another turn.
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