Bonoti said, “Our scientists are looking at the information as well. If they discover anything, we will share it with you immediately.”
Chen nodded. “Thank you. As will we.”
McBride cut in. “Despite our recent losses, the Legion is in relatively good shape. We fared much better than expected on the secondary target worlds. That said, I’m not sure what good ground units are going to be in the next engagement with these pyramids.”
“The Bearcat Army is in a similar position,” Fonto added.
“I’ll take whatever good news I can get. I think we are going to need every ship and every soldier by the time this thing is over,” Chen replied. He looked at each commander around the table, hoping to reinforce their wills. “And there is not a doubt in my mind that if we work together, there is not an enemy we can’t defeat.”
“Sir,” Sennet spoke up, “it appears that all of the other fronts have gone quiet. Is there any evidence that there might be more of these silver models out there?”
“That’s the best piece of news I can relay. It doesn’t appear the enemy had production capability off their home world, nor have deep penetrating scans of other Kitright planets turned up anything hinting at more of these,” he searched for the right word, “devil ships.”
“I find that most...interesting,” Bonoti said.
“Yes, I agree,” Chen said. “That is why I’ve invited General Maxwell here. No one has more experience than he in fighting the Kitright. He’s also been involved in the interrogation of the civilian prisoner we recovered. He has a theory I thought worth sharing. Please, go ahead, General.”
“Thank you, sir.” Trent sat rigidly. “Unfortunately, as the admiral said, the prisoner we were able to secure was a low-level government official in the local civilian authority. However, he has been able to provide us with at least some historical context. It might not have a direct military application, but I believe it can help us better understand our real enemy.
“You are being provided with a full report on his interrogation. In summary, the machines we have been fighting are not of Kitright design and have been only under their marginal control. I suspect these new ships are completely beyond the Kitright’s ability to command.”
“General,” Fonto asked, “do you believe we can trust this prisoner’s word and why do you think there were only two of the silver pyramids?”
“Yes, sir, I believe Tyfar. Well, I believe he was giving us the truth as far as he knew it, anyway. According to our understanding of Kitright biology and behavior, nothing we could detect in any way suggests that he was trying to deceive us. I also honestly don’t think he has the cultural and social subtext to resist interrogation. Their society is based on avoiding conflict and obeying authority figures. In fact, it would seem that wishing to engage in conflict was cause for their robot soldiers to kill their own population. The machines did so to cut away the disease of aggression before it could spread. It’s all in my report in somewhat greater detail.
“To your second question, that is why I’m here. Tyfar briefly spoke of a war, a civil war it seems, between the machines and the race that created them. They made the machines to police their own society to prevent conflict, and I’m guessing that the machines began going too far. When their former masters objected...”
“Conflict.” Sennet cocked her head.
“Exactly,” Trent answered. “And that was something the machines could react to. Clearly we know who won the war. I’d bet the race that made these things went down swinging and in the process, took out the machines’ ability to reproduce ships, and most importantly, took out the most advanced units as well. It seems to be the only logical explanation for why they just didn’t wipe us out. Asset preservation.”
“So, if we destroy these two ships, the war is over?” Bonoti asked.
“I believe so, sir,” Trent said guardedly. “That is my best estimate, at least. I don’t have enough information to make a definitive statement of fact.”
Bonoti asked, “Is there anything in this report that can help us fight these ships?”
Trent gently shook his head. “I’m afraid not, Grand Armada Leader. I don’t think any Kitright possesses the knowledge to aid us in that regard.”
“Still, General,” McBride said, “knowing your enemy is a crucial key to victory, and this information increased our knowledge of our real enemy by orders of magnitude.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Following extensive deliberation, the gathered branch commanders split off to tend to their respective forces. Trent stood to leave as well, but Admiral Chen asked him to stay behind. With the heavy wood door shut behind the others, Chen walked Trent toward the office’s casual sitting area. He gestured for Trent to take a seat in one of the dark leather chairs.
“Can I pour you a scotch, General?”
“Please, sir. Under the circumstances, I’d ask you to make it a triple.”
Chen picked up the crystal carafe and filled two glasses with the decadent amber liquid. He handed one to Trent who brought it up to his nose to inhale the pungent aroma and swirl the contents carefully before savoring a delicious sip.
“Thank you, sir. This is really hitting the spot.”
Chen took a seat, crossing his legs and holding the drink in his hand, balancing it on a knee. “General, what I have to tell you is classified at the highest level.”
Trent shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time information that sensitive has been shared with me, Admiral.”
“Yes, I’m aware of that. It is one of the reasons I’ve handpicked you for this mission.”
Trent raised an eyebrow in mid-sip. “And that mission would be?”
“The one that’s going to win the war.”
***
The shuttle bay of Earth’s Fist was abuzz with energy and purpose. Crew members scurried about like an army of ants ferrying an avalanche of supplies. Each broad step Trent took to the door seemed to call up another shuttle from the floor, loaded to the brim with provisions. After cutting his way through the mass of activity, he marched straight for the med bay, where he found Amanda and Susan engaged in animated conversation.
“Oh, Great Gramps is here,” Susan proclaimed. “Pull up a chair and join us. We’re having a good time talking about you.”
Amanda saw the look in Trent’s eyes and that was enough to erase her smile. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
Susan’s eyes darted between them, trying – fruitlessly – to decipher their language of facial expressions, such as intimate couples often have.
“Earth’s Fist is moving out in a matter of minutes,” he said with a hardened tone. “We need to get Susan transferred over to the station ASAP.”
“What?” Susan said. “I thought their med bay was full with injured from the other fronts. That’s why I stayed here in the first place,”
“That was then, before we got new orders. I don’t want you along for this ride, Susan.”
“Because I’m injured or I’m your great-great granddaughter?” She looked more pissed than simply annoyed. “If you’re going into combat, you’ll need all of the veteran pilots you can get, and I don’t need a fully operational leg to fly. Hell, I can fly and kick ass with just my head on a stick.”
Trent met her gaze levelly. “Honestly, both. You’ve been wounded, and regulations dictate you fully recover before reentering active duty.”
“That’s a bunch of bullshit...sir,” she countered. “Since when have you become ‘mister-by-the-book?’” She looked at Amanda, her silent eyes pleading for support.
Two nurses came alongside Trent. “This isn’t a debate, Lieutenant. You’re leaving for the station now.”
“Yes, sir,” Susan snapped a sarcastic salute.
Trent turned to walk out and Amanda rose to follow close behind.
“Great Gramps,” Susan said, looking to draw his attention for a moment. At her words, Trent looked back. “Good luck and be sure to make it home o
n time this time, okay?”
“You got it, kid. Keep yourself safe till I get back.”
They smiled and nodded at each other before he shot out the door. Amanda hurried to keep pace.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“The bridge.”
“Ok... then where?”
“That’s classified.”
Amanda stopped in her tracks. “Classified,” she asked, as if the word held no meaning to her.
Trent huffed, annoyed at the delay. Being lovers with a sergeant officially under your command tended to add more than a few wrinkles now and then. He hated having to deal with this particular wrinkle right now, but it had to be done.
“For Christ’s sake, Amanda,” he growled. “I’ll fill you in later with everyone else. Right now, I just … dammit. I don’t have time to deal with your hurt feelings.”
The rebuke served to remind her of their disparate positions. She snapped to attention momentarily in an effort to apologize for her reaction without actually saying it.
He nodded in recognition of her token apology and continued on to the bridge without her.
“General,” Captain DeWalt called out as Trent arrived, “I see we’re in a hurry.”
“Yes, Captain. I assume you’ve received our orders?”
“I have, although I won’t pretend to understand them. Of course, this is probably a ‘need-to-know’ sort of situation and right now, I don’t need to know. I mean, I’m just the chauffeur, right?” His lopsided grin took any sting from his words.
Trent grinned back. “Your understanding is greatly appreciated, Captain. How long till we move out?”
DeWalt moved to examine a panel. “Only a matter of minutes, now. The last of our supplies are en route and we’re transferring the wounded over right now.”
“Excellent, Captain. Well done, as always.”
“Alert,” sounded the ship’s computer. “Gate has activated. Unscheduled arrival in progress.”
“Report!” DeWalt shouted to no one in particular but expecting an immediate answer.
“Ship in transit now, sir,” someone answered.
“On screen now,” DeWalt commanded.
Trent watched the display. He held his breath as his heart picked up its pace. “Oh, my God - they’re here,” he breathed.
End of Book Two
About the Author:
Nathaniel Danes is a self-diagnosed sci-fi junkie and, according to his wife, has an over active imagination. Mostly blind, he writes to create universes where he has no limitations. He lives with his wife and daughter in the Washington, DC area.
Acknowledgments:
To my teachers, from K to grad school. You taught me the power and grace of the written word.
Social Links:
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Twitter: https://twitter.com/nathanieldanes
Blog: http://nathanieldanes.blogspot.com/
Website: www.nathanieldanes.com
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/author/nathanieldanes
Table of Contents
Chapter One Bloodlust Bond
Chapter Two The Meeting
Chapter Three The Op
Chapter Four Good-byes
Chapter Five The Decision
Chapter Six Get Going
Chapter Seven Taken
Chapter Eight Lessons
Chapter Nine Their Ways
Chapter Ten The Hunt
Chapter Eleven New Order
Chapter Twelve Strange Bed Fellows
Chapter Thirteen Unity
Chapter Fourteen Execution
Chapter Fifteen Payback
Chapter Sixteen Conquerors
Chapter Seventeen Home Base
Chapter Eighteen Family
Chapter Nineteen The New Legion
Chapter Twenty Total War
Chapter Twenty-One The Battle of Kitright Prime
Chapter Twenty-Two End Around
Chapter Twenty-Three Invasion
Chapter Twenty-Four The Valley
Chapter Twenty-Five First to Fall
Chapter Twenty-Six Humanity
Chapter Twenty-Seven Charge of the 14th Order
Chapter Twenty-Eight Patriots
Chapter Twenty-Nine Regroup
Chapter Thirty Last Stand
Chapter Thirty-One The Assault
Chapter Thirty-Two Operation Cobra
Chapter Thirty-Three The Keepers
Chapter Thirty-Four Retreat
Chapter Thirty-Five Interrogation
Chapter Thirty-Six Next Steps
The Last Revenge (The Last Hero Trilogy Book 2) Page 32