Lieutenant Commander Gentry stepped forward and activated a panoramic viewer panel. High-resolution images of a moderate sized planetoid came into view, then zoomed to reveal details of the atmosphere and surface. “Over 80% of the surface is covered by a deep ocean that supports an unusually diverse marine ecology, one that easily supplies the nutritional needs of the inhabitants. Because of the planetoid’s close proximity to its star the atmosphere is almost constantly at 90% humidity or greater, so the land vegetation is of a tropical rainforest quality.”
He paused for a breath and questions, but none were raised, so he continued. “The capital city, Keston, is to the northern end of the single continent, probably because that is the least tropical area of the planetoid. Their land transportation is well developed between major cities because the single ocean would require greater distance for water transport. The fishing industry makes extensive use of specialty fishing watercraft, with a limited Coast Guard for search and rescue operations. Typhoons form the greatest natural threat to ships at sea. Wave action is so severe during storms that most cities have been located at least twenty kilometers inland.”
Eaves raised his hand, again. “Do you have intelligence about rebel bases and where the fighting is most likely to occur?”
Jesik studied the young Lieutenant, Junior Grade. He was clearly aching to join the fight. After graduating from the academy he and acting Ensign Magill had made the unusual decision to join the fleet, rather than pursuing advanced studies at the academy. Politics had played a role, with their exploits on Cambriol elevating their status in the public eye. It only made sense that they would enter the branch of service where their commendations would lead to immediate promotion. Still, Jesik couldn’t help but feel that Eaves would tire of the relatively clumsy star-fighters that were used to chase down pirates in favor of atmosphere launched aircraft that provided a decidedly more thrilling ride. Perhaps that’s why he was taking such an interest in this operation, knowing that it would be fought primarily on the ground and in the air, rather than in near space orbit.
Commander Gentry responded to Eaves’s question. “Information is sketchy, of course, but Fleet has managed to interrogate some merchant marine Captains who trade with Keswick and it’s their opinion that the rebels are most likely sequestered in the almost impenetrable rain-forests of the southwest. Apparently the undergrowth is so thick that even electronic surveillance often fails to detect normal indicators of life and movement. They’re also able to move their aircraft and low-space orbiters on mobile launch pads where they can initiate a strike and return to ground before the planetary defense system has time to respond with a counter-attack. Our intelligence indicates that they’re extremely effective pirates, with the full cost of their operations paid by extortion extracted from the merchant ships. It’s become so bad, of late, that trade with Keswick for other than orchidite, has fallen off precipitously. That’s what prompted the move against the rebels. At first the government had some notable successes in their military campaign, but the rebels adapted and launched a number of terrorist attacks against Keston that has devastated public confidence. Now that they’re gaining the upper hand, the ruling family is pleading for assistance.”
It looked like Gentry had more to say, but Jesik was impatient to get underway. In spite of a number of raised hands, he cut the briefing short and announced, “Mr. Gentry will be in charge of both space launched and ship-to-ship weaponry, under direction of Commander Brighton. Surface aircraft will report to the Operations Chief and land-based operations will be under direction of the Marines. Lieutenant Eaves, you should prepare to lead one of the aircraft wings with Lieutenant Jason Carter as your navigator and Lieutenant Magill will be placed under temporary assignment to the Marines to assist in the land operations. Any questions?”
There were undoubtedly more questions, but everyone correctly guessed from the Captain’s tone of voice that this wasn’t the time to ask them. Jesik stood to leave, prompting the others to stand at attention. “One last thing – it’s been over two hundred years since a ship of the fleet has faced a full-scale military operation of this nature. We have just two months to dust off the history books, study operations and drill the crew for battle. Even though these rebels come from a relatively insignificant planet, their guerilla activities have given them superb training in real-life combat. History has shown that highly motivated insurgents can wear out even the greatest of superpowers. Do not underestimate them.” With that his officers stood at attention while Jesik made his exit, then dispersed into small groups to return to their functional areas.
* * *
“So, you’re going to be a ‘grunt’ hacking your way through a rain forest,” said Eaves to Magill as they walked back towards their assigned operations area. “You’ll probably get to wear camouflaged fatigues and black face and look just like G.I. Joe on maneuvers.”
Magill acknowledged his friends’ sarcasm. “Yes and you’ll be up in the sky scaring the guano out of high flying seagulls. Hope none of it lands on your window.”
Eaves wasn’t fazed. “Who would have thought that by passing on a posting to flight academy I’d actually get the chance to be in the first air-to-air combat against terrorists in the last two hundred years? I gotta tell you, Magill, blasting those pools on Cambriol was the luckiest thing we ever did.”
Magill walked along in silence for a while. For some reason he thought of his parents. His adopted, parents, rather. Glancing at Eaves he couldn’t help but remember how their friendship began. The Magill’s were a third-class family living in a modest section of Kalenden’s capital city. In junior high school Sean Magill and his other third-class friends had a number of run-ins with kids from the first-class schools until he’d developed a genuine prejudice against the upper class. They were such jerks. He was proud of the fact that he could hit harder than they could, but in spite of his physical toughness he never got over their insults and he hated the fact that he could never have the opportunities they did without first-class credentials. The more he pretended not to care, the angrier it made him. His dad was aware of this and tried to change his opinion by reminding him that even as a member of third-class he had applied himself in school and in his profession until he gained recognition as an accomplished chemist who now supervised a crew of thirty at a rocket propellant laboratory. It was his hope that Sean would grow up and follow in his footsteps. But Sean loved politics and soccer and thought he would die if he had to sit at a laboratory bench all day.
It had been the biggest surprise of his life when the prestigious Kalenden Arms Academy offered him a full ride scholarship – a privilege granted to just three third-class students per year. All the rest of the students were from the very best families. Sean had ranted that there was no way he was going to be a snob at Kalenden Arms, since those were the guys he hated the most. His dad agreed, saying that he should be content with his place in society, but his mother urged him to accept. “How can you ever hope to realize your dreams if you don’t take a risk?” she asked.
“How can I spend four years with those guys; they’ll all look down on me for being third-class,” he pleaded in return.
“Sean, if you really want to be a leader, you’ll have to learn to work with everybody, even the first-class. Besides, they’re people, just like you. Perhaps they earned the right to attend because their parents are prominent. But, you’ve earned the right because you’re talented. You’re as well, or better, qualified than any of them. This is your chance to prove yourself – don’t let it slip away.”
He continued to fight himself over the decision for a few days, but ultimately his mother’s logic had won out and he accepted the scholarship. Most of his friends were happy for him, but some thought he was being a traitor and succeeded in making him feel guilty. Eventually, over the course of six or seven months, they pretty much stopped doing things with him because he no longer fit in.
His first days at the academy were miserable. Most of
the other students simply ignored him, which suited him fine. He wanted to be left alone. But some of the more obnoxious ones taunted him when out of earshot of a teacher. One day, while changing after soccer practice, he saw Travis Eaves and a bunch of his friends turn and look at him, then laugh. It infuriated him. Eaves was cocky and self-assured and seemed to represent everything that Magill hated about the upper class. He should have let it alone, but instead he strode over to Eaves and shoved him against a locker.
“If you’ve got a problem with me, why don’t you say it to my face!”
“What makes you think I have a problem with you,” Eaves shot back. “What makes you think I even think about you?”
“I saw you looking at me and laughing. You think you’re so good, don’t you? Well, as I remember it my friends and I kicked your ass in the ninth grade and I’ll be glad to do it again here, if you like.”
The blood had pounded in his forehead and he knew he was in trouble. He didn’t have any friends here and Eaves was surrounded by them. Who cares? Maybe they’ll beat the crap out of me and I’ll get thrown out of the place.
Instead of pushing him back, though, Eaves said earnestly, “I don’t know why you’ve got such an attitude, Magill. Nobody here is against you. We were laughing because we thought it was great how you shot past the goalie in practice yesterday. Nobody’s ever pulled it off like that and he’s been pouting all day. We’d tell you that to your face, but you never let anybody talk to you.”
It was such an unexpected response that it shook Magill. Eaves continued. “The truth is that you’re the only one in this whole place who cares that you went to a public school. Hell, you’re the only one who’s really earned the right to be here, the rest of us just had to be born.”
“What about Wells and Jamison?” Magill said rather lamely. “They’re always hassling me.”
“Those guys? Try to tell me that your public school didn’t have jerks just like that. They’ve been jackasses since kindergarten.”
Magill couldn’t think of anything to say.
“Why don’t you relax, Sean? Maybe you like school, but I don’t. It’s bad enough we have to be here. Why do you want to go through it alone? Can’t you lighten up, a little?”
With that, Eaves made a friend. And Magill started to let go of some of his prejudice. In time, he started to fit in. So much so that he joined Travis in some truly world class practical jokes in which he more than gained his revenge on Wells and Jamison. His grades and soccer playing were good enough to avoid expulsion. It also helped that Eaves’ grandfather was a cabinet secretary. Still, even though he made a lot of friends and nearly everyone treated him as an equal, there was still a lot of prejudice against the lower-classes. Not an overt kind of prejudice that says they’re inferior. It was more benign – a simple recognition that everyone has a place in society and those at the Kalenden Arms were at the top of the leadership ladder. The only real change is that people started thinking of Magill as a first-class.
Back in the present Magill found himself thinking, Someday I’ll get a position on the Quadrant Council and then I can help those in leadership understand what it’s like to have talent with no way to express it. I will make a difference.
“Making a speech in your mind again, Sean? What foreign embassy are you lecturing to about the virtues of Kalenden society now?”
Magill cast an irritated glance at Eaves. “You know, there’s a lot more to life than just shooting up asteroids or rebel bases. Someone with your talent should be a leader.”
“I am a leader. It’s just that I want to lead a squadron, while you want to lead a population.” He saw the fire in Magill’s eyes and added, “But, it’s okay, Sean – the universe needs both kinds. I hope you do get to be President of the Council someday. I think you’d be great.”
Magill calmed down and replied, “The problem is that I care about it too much, so people think I’m a zealot. You don’t give a damn, so people relax and follow your lead. I wish I could figure out how to care a little less and inspire a little more.”
“All you need is time, Sean. This action on Keswick is the perfect opportunity for you. You can gain military experience, maybe win a medal or two and if you’re really lucky get killed and become a martyr. Then you’d really have some influence.” He burst out laughing as Magill shoved him against the wall.
* * *
“Captain, may I have a private word with you?”
“Certainly, Commander, step into my bridge cabin.”
Once outside the scrutiny of the other members of the bridge crew, Brighton let down his guard a bit. Jesik offered him a cup of kelp tea, which he accepted gratefully. The warm liquid soothed the back of his throat and helped him relax. Jesik looked at him expectantly.
“Sir, I’d like to request a leave-of-absence when we reach Space Station 12 next week. I need to spend a day on Stirium.” Jesik’s face flushed, but rather than give him time to interrupt Brighton continued, “I’ve checked it out and I can join the battle-cruiser Fortissimo prior to its rendezvous with Allegro three weeks later. That should still give me plenty of time to work with the crew prior to battle.”
“Stirium’s a rather mystical place, Commander, usually reserved for discreet romantic liaisons or shady business dealings.”
Brighton could see that Jesik was flustered. Who wouldn’t be – a senior officer requesting a personal leave just as the ship is preparing for battle?
“Sir, it’s an urgent personal problem that simply can’t wait. If there was any other way to solve this problem I’d do it.”
“I’m afraid that’s not good enough, Commander, the ship needs your full and undivided attention. If this personal problem prevents you from doing that perhaps you need a temporary reassignment to a non-combat role.”
Brighton rubbed his temples. It’s already started – this thing is already starting to ruin my career, just when I have a chance to prove myself.
“Tom?”
Brighton looked up, startled. Jesik almost never called another officer by his first name.
“Tom, normally I wouldn’t intrude on your privacy, no matter the circumstance. But, you have to give me some help here. How can I possibly justify authorizing your absence at a critical time like this?”
Brighton sighed. It was now or never. Clearing his throat he resolved to tell the whole story. “There’s a young woman named Sondra Vivendel from Tatrius. We met during our last layover there and I spent several days with her. She called earlier today to tell me that she’s pregnant.”
Jesik sat down hard. “Is it certain that you’re the father?”
Brighton nodded.
In an uncharacteristic display of emotion Jesik blurted out, “How could you be so careless, Commander?”
Brighton was surprised to see that the Captain’s hands were trembling.
“I thought she’d taken protection. Believe me, I had no idea I was at risk.”
With a fierceness Brighton had never seen before Jesik fired back, “Do you know what this can do to your career—to your life? You may never escape its shadow, not as long as you live!”
Jesik’s intensity was so over the top for someone so usually reserved that it unnerved Brighton. And made him angry.
“With all due respect, Sir, this is my problem and I just need a few days to meet Ms. Vivendel to work it out. I’d hoped you could accommodate me.”
Jesik sighed. “I’m not the problem, Tom. Of course you can have a leave. But, the service is a small club, even though it’s spread out over a few light-years. You may well find there’s no way to avoid a scandal. Or, if you do, that there’s an awful price to pay for silence.”
Jesik spoke to the computer, “Formal leave granted to Thomas Brighton, Commander, on my authority. Dates and times to be entered separately.” The computer acknowledged the command and started printing the appropriate e-paper. Jesik signed the form and handed it to Brighton. “Do you love this woman?”
“I don’t
think so. Of course I’ve had no experience with love, so I’m not really qualified to answer.”
“My only advice is that you consider her needs and those of your child first, Commander. Your career’s important, but so are they.”
Brighton swallowed and raised his eyes. “I was an orphan, Sir. Believe me when I tell you that I understand.” He shook Jesik’s hand and left the room.
Jesik sat down in his chair again. “Why does it all have to be so complicated?”
“Was that a question?” the computer asked.
“Only if you have a good answer.”
The computer was silent.
3 - An Unexpected Attack
The battle was scheduled to take place on two fronts – the Keswick surface and the in atmosphere, but not among the ships in orbit – which is why the first laser blast was unexpected when it temporarily blinded the Allegro’s forward sensor array.
“Which ship fired at us?” yelled Jesik.
There was a moment of silence as their Helmsman, Lieutenant Kevin Wight, waited for his console to stabilize. “It appears to be a Zeronion freighter, Sir.”
“A freighter, my ass,” Gentry retorted. “That beam had the force of a Star Cruiser with a nuclear generator.”
Jesik looked as confused as everyone else. “What’s the ship doing now?”
“He’s taken cover behind one of the Keswick moons, Sir.”
Jesik bit his lip, a nervous habit he was completely unaware of. “Your thoughts, Mr. Barrows,” he said, turning to the Political Officer.
Before Barrows could answer, Gentry interrupted, “I don’t know his motive, Sir, but I do know why he chose that moment to attack. While we were blind, he launched a missile at the planet’s surface at their main communication terminal.”
“Any damage?”
“No Sir. Lieutenant Eaves managed to launch counter-measures from his fighter just before the moment of impact. Some of the ground crew was hit by the debris, but the reports indicate the equipment was undamaged.”
Assault on Cambriol: The Manhattan Trials Page 5