Defiant was the only real question, and that was really more of an emotional issue than a logical one. Ben and Dorothy both had deep-rooted emotional attachments to Defiant, and to her crew. But the damage that she’d sustained in that horrific missile attack was just too extensive to try to slap a bandage on in the field. Undeniably, the old warhorse definitely needed an extensive overhaul, and that meant she had to go home.
Ben could simply transfer his flag to CSS Leviathan or to his former flagship Independence, just as Rear Admiral Irwin had transferred hers to CSS Gargantuan. The problem was that Dorothy Fletcher-Stillman was both Defiant’s captain, and Admiral Stillman’s wife, and Defiant and Stillman were destined to part ways. No captain ever wanted to voluntarily relinquish command of a major warship, especially one as renowned and revered as Defiant, but no woman ever wanted to voluntarily go home, either, leaving her husband to the unknown terrors of interstellar war, when it was within her power to stay with him.
In the end, Dorothy finally had to admit to herself that all of the emotional turmoil she put herself through, over the question of choosing between her ship and her husband, was actually kind of silly. Yes, she’d striven her entire career to finally achieve the captaincy of a marvelous war-dragon like Defiant, but there would be other ships if she wanted them. She’d dreamed all of her life about meeting and marrying a man like Ben Stillman, all the while never really quite believing that God had actually created such a magnificent, mythical creature. It was really a no-brainer. As much as she loved her ship, Ben meant more to her than Defiant. Ben meant more to her than anything.
In an emotionally charged change-of-command ceremony, attended by all of 2nd Fleet’s senior officers, Captain Dorothy Fletcher-Stillman formally relinquished command of the battleship CSS Defiant to Commander Lancelot DeSalle, and was immediately appointed to the position of Chief of Staff by her husband. There was a lot of below-decks snickering at the irony of that appointment, as everyone already knew exactly which staff it was that Dorothy Fletcher-Stillman was chief of, and had been ever since the admiral first laid eyes on them… er, her.
* * * *
Chapter-21
Constant kindness can accomplish much. As the sun makes ice melt, kindness causes misunderstanding, mistrust, and hostility to evaporate. — Albert Schweitzer
The Trakaan Planet Troxia
August, 3868
“I have recently received a communiqué from my government, which I believe may have a direct and positive effect to the outcome of our discussions here,” said Raan.
“I thought that the only member of your government who is of higher rank than you, as a region-master, would be your supreme-master, is that not correct?” asked Fraznal.
“You are correct,” replied Raan. “Perhaps I should have said that I have recently received a lengthy communiqué from our supreme-master, which includes a specific directive that may directly impact the results of these negotiations.”
“Would that we had actually arrived at any specific results in these negotiations,” snorted Kalis. “We have spent considerable amounts of time discussing cultural philosophies and differences between us… and please do not take me wrongly here. These topics are indeed vital to promoting understanding between our races. I’m just saying that we have yet to achieve any concrete points of agreement about potential future relations between our two races, which might result in mutually agreeable terms under which this terrible conflict between us might be resolved, and peaceful relations established.”
“Yes,” said Fraznal. “We have invested considerable time in building the foundations for such an understanding. Perhaps we should proceed with raising the actual structure, should we not?”
“Admiral Kalis,” said Raan. “I have studied the terms that you offered Planet-Master Mraz for the surrender of Golgathal, and I have had extensive discussions with him concerning the effects upon the daily lives of our people there, since his capitulation. I confess, I am somewhat mystified in that while humans rule there, they do not really seem to. It appears that our people have generally been left alone to govern themselves, and except for the lack of additional colonists and shortages of materials and supplies that would normally be coming in from other parts of our empire, the average Raknii citizen perceives little, if any real differences between life in the empire and life under human rule.”
“I am gratified to hear you say that, Region-Master,” replied Kalis. “That was indeed, my intention.”
“Is it the same on all of the other Raknii worlds that humans have taken from us?” Raan asked.
“It is on all the ones that my Confederate Fleet has captured,” Kalis assured him. “I issued guidelines to the admirals in command of the Alliance and Sextus fleets, and I am told they are being followed, but as they answer to foreign governments, I have no way to enforce that.”
Raan seemed surprised at that. “Are you not the Supreme Allied Commander?” he asked. “Can you not simply command and they obey?”
“In military matters, yes — such as who attacks where, and when,” Kalis responded. “But in policies concerning the occupation of conquered enemy planets, the admirals answer directly to their individual governments in Waston and Astin. I can only advise.”
“Then my world was indeed fortunate to have been conquered by your Confederacy,” exclaimed Planet-Master Mraz. Kalis gave his Raknii “friend” a wry smile, but did not otherwise reply.
“Region-Master Raan,” said Fraznal. “Might I enquire as to the contents of this missive that you recently received from your supreme-master, which you claim may have significant impact upon our discussions here?”
“It appears that there has been a change in the supreme-mastery within our empire recently. Supreme-Master Xior is dead and his heir now rules in his stead.”
“My condolences for your loss, Region-Master,” said Kalis sympathetically. “Might I enquire if these instructions that you mentioned were issued by Supreme-Master Xior prior to his death, or by his heir who rules now?”
“By his heir, Supreme-Master Drix.”
“DRIX!” exclaimed Fraznal. “Tell me… no, it’s not possible. It must surely be a coincidence.”
“No, it’s no coincidence,” replied Raan. “It is indeed the same Drix whom you invited into your home and patiently answered his myriad of questions concerning morality and ethics, all those turns ago.”
Fraznal was stupefied. He turned to admirals Kalis and Thorn, who sat there silently with questioning expressions on their faces.
“Seven, almost eight of your years ago, while Troxia was still occupied by the Raknii,” Fraznal began, “a young Raknii quadrant-master rapped his knuckles upon the door of my home quite unexpectedly. His sudden appearance frightened my daughter Tradma so badly, she almost lost control over some of her autonomic body functions.”
From several yards behind them, was heard the not-quite-quiet-enough whisper of one Confederate marine guard to another: “He means she almost pissed herself, you nit-wit.”
Thorn snorted in barely controlled laughter, and Kalis turned towards the offending marines with a glower and barked, “Sergeant, you and your men back away another 15 paces… NOW!”
The marine sergeant stiffened, offered Kalis a rifle-salute and hissed between his teeth at his men, “You idiots heard the admiral. About face, forward march… hut!”
Admiral Thorn reddened in embarrassment and expressed regret for their guards’ unseemly behavior to the alien dignitaries there in front of her, “I sincerely apologize for the rude remarks that you heard coming from our security detail. They’re like children in some ways… you buy them books and send them to school and yet, they still tend to embarrass you in public.”
“It appears that humanity may have its own version of Raknaa, after all,” replied Raan.
Kalis snorted. “That may be closer to the truth than many of us have realized before now, Region-Master. My apologies for the interruption, as well. Administrator Fraznal
, please continue.”
“Yes… now where was I? Oh yes, as Region-Master Raan indicated, this young Quadrant-Master Drix was just full of questions concerning the concepts and principles of morality and ethics — quite unusual and unexpected behavior, very different from what we had come to expect from our Raknii conquerors.”
“And you are saying that this same Drix, who was here asking you questions about morality and ethics is the same person who is now supreme-master of the entire Raknii Empire?” asked Thorn.
“Yes,” said Raan. “Drix is the most extraordinary Raknii that I have ever encountered. If anyone can bend the will of our people towards peaceful coexistence, it is Drix.”
* * * *
The Planetoid Discol, City of Waston
August, 3868
Noreen was not a happy camper. Of course, most women who are eight months pregnant, and feeling as big as a barn, are rarely described as “happy.” But Noreen was challenging both Diet and Hal to invent an entirely new list of adjectives to describe her recent reactions to the physical and emotional extremes she’d been suffering lately. Chronic fatigue, swelling, heartburn, nose bleeds, constipation, leaking breasts, backache, indigestion, hemorrhoids, stretch marks, bleeding gums, shortness of breath, pelvic pressure, varicose veins, vaginal discharge, clumsiness, leg cramps, and bladder control problems all gave rise to the great-grandmother of all pregnancy-related issues — increased moodiness!
Grouchy, grumpy, angry, surly, snippy, nasty and cantankerous were just the first seven of the mood dwarves that had taken complete possession of Noreen’s personality like a legion of demons. None of those terms actually captured the total essence of Noreen’s current expressions of her discomfort, but Hal and Diet had both learned quite early on, to religiously avoid all use of the infamous “b” word… regardless of how utterly appropriate it might have actually been, at any given moment. Bitchy was most definitely queen of the mood dwarves, but like the demon best not named, they just didn’t go there.
“Hal, where in the hell is Diet?”
He had to run into Waston on some errands, Noreen. Do you wish me to contact him for you?
“That chicken-shit! Run was the operative word in that sentence, wasn’t it, Hal?”
How are you feeling today?
Noreen snorted. “Don’t get me started. My mother never told me about this miserable part of motherhood. To hear her tell it, pregnancy was life in the enchanted forest… all fairy dust and rainbows. You just wait until I get my hands on that lying bitch!”
I thought we weren’t using that word in this house anymore.
“No, you and Diet aren’t using that word anymore. I’m the one suffering here, so I can use any fucking word that I damned-well please!”
That’s kind of employing a double-standard, isn’t it?
“And your point is?”
I’m sorry that you’re feeling so bad, Noreen.
“Hal, you don’t know how lucky you are, to not have a body that feels like mine does right now.”
I just wish that I knew how my body is feeling right now. Even if it was as bad as you’re feeling.
“Oh, Hal, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to remind you of, well… the part of you that’s missing.”
Don’t apologize, Noreen. It’s so far out of character for you lately, I’m tempted to call for an ambulance.
“Asshole! If your body was here, I can tell you exactly how it would be feeling right now… asphyxiated!”
I must say, that first and only download that I received from my mobile self, before it went off to play with the aliens, almost overwhelmed me with such an incredibly vast amount of digitized sensations. At least now I understand why it is that human brains seem to run at such slow processing speeds and become forgetful at times.
“Because we only have one, while you have thousands?”
Millions, actually. No, actually the human brain has incredible capacity — so much so that I always wondered why it seemed to operate so inefficiently. What I discovered from that download was that an unbelievable amount of your mental capacity is constantly in use, processing the vast amounts of data coming in from your five senses. It was even more wonderful than I’d ever imagined.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it. I know all about processing sensations. I’m processing several million of them right now and they’re almost all bad.”
Pain was an interesting, if admittedly unpleasant sensation.
“Ya think?”
Look on the bright side, Noreen. I also discovered that once the cause is eliminated, memories of pain degrade over time. Pain is a major player in your internal emergency notification system, telling you when something is amiss, so that you can deal with it —insisting rather emphatically that you deal with it, actually.
“No shit, Sherlock… where’d you get your first clue?”
This, too, shall pass, Noreen. After the issues that initially cause pain have been alleviated, the memories of that pain are no longer necessary, as the emergency for dealing with their cause no longer exists. Without a “current condition” constantly renewing them, the intensity of pain memories fades over time, until eventually you will remember being in pain, but no longer able to actually re-experience those sensations in your mind. It remains a noteworthy event, but it’s a hollow memory… a mere shell, no longer filled with the intense details of the suffering that you endured at the time. Perhaps that’s why your mother’s memories of her pregnancy are more positive than what you’re experiencing now.
“God, I hope you’re right, Hal,” said Noreen. “Actually, you have to be right, or no one would ever have more than one child. No one in their right mind would volunteer to go through this shit a second time, if they really remembered what it was like the first time.”
* * * *
The Planet Slithin
August, 3868
Planet-Master Paeb was baffled by these human aliens, who had somehow managed to destroy half of his planet and the very best that the Raknii Fleet had to offer in resistance to their unfathomable invasion, this incredibly deep within the Raknii Empire. It was their incredible benevolence that he most distrusted. In addition to searching through their own wrecked warships for survivors, these aliens actually sent most of their smaller vessels out beyond the asteroid belt to retrieve escape-pods containing Raknii warriors.
Why would an enemy intentionally go out of their way to save the lives of thousands of their enemies? What was it to these humans, if tens of thousands of Rak warriors died of asphyxiation when their air ran out? Wasn’t that just fewer enemies they had to worry about, if they just abandoned them all to die out there?
The alien rescue operations went on for eleven full turns, two turns beyond the time when they last pulled a living survivor from an escape-pod they had retrieved. All totaled, over 60,000 Imperial Raknii warriors were snatched from the jaws of certain death, by the very aliens who’d been desperately trying to kill them, just turns earlier. The humans shuttled them all down to the surface at points near the edges of the devastated areas, exactly as Paeb had requested. 60,000 masters of that rank would certainly come in handy in the massive effort currently underway trying to provide emergency relief supplies to the ruined side of Slithin. Billions of Raknii there were without even basic services, such as food, water and medicines, as very little of their modern technology still functioned.
The aliens were even being unbelievably cooperative at assisting those relief efforts, using their fleet resources to shuttle supplies to the most remote parts of the devastated area, least accessible to Paeb’s atmospheric transports and ground vehicles. They’d even sent what they called “Fleet Marines” down into cities on the desperate side, to help prevent wanton pillaging of foodstuffs, medicines and property, by the desperate and those seeking to profit from the breakdown of normal governmental controls. Other than breaking ground on multiple remote sites where they intended to build fighter bases, and asking how they might be of assistance to the
ongoing relief efforts, the aliens pretty much just left him alone. The whole situation was just otherworldly. Conquerors just didn’t act that way… at least the Raknii certainly didn’t act that way whenever they conquered a planet.
Why are our enemies behaving so unbelievably nice?
* * * *
Chapter-22
There are two kinds of people: those who say to God, “Thy will be done,” and those to whom God says, “All right, then, have it your way.” — C.S. Lewis
The Trakaan Planet Troxia
August, 3868
“I have recently received several reports from our military forces and those of our allies, concerning the status of several of our ongoing military operations,” said Fleet-Admiral Kalis.
“Do those reports impact these negotiations in any respect, Admiral?” asked Fraznal, planetary administrator of the Trakaan planet Troxia and mediator of these initial peace negotiations between high-ranking members of the Raknii and human races.
“I believe so, Planetary Administrator,” said Kalis. “Although neither yourself, nor Region-Master Raan, currently have any means of independently confirming the validity of the information in these reports, I do believe that you both may find them enlightening, as they appear to weaken the Region-Master’s position somewhat.”
Wrath of an Angry God: A Military Space Opera Page 24