“I can only imagine the conversations,” Celesta said. “Entreat the species that had wiped out the Phage to deal with the cult that worshipped it. This is … a lot to take in. But it does clear up a lot of things that never made any sense in our interactions with either side of this little sibling rivalry.”
“Oh, it’s well beyond that,” Cole said seriously. “I know you were being glib, Captain, but make no mistake: This is a war for survival in every sense of the word. Either the Ushin will win, or the Darshik will. They’ve continued to grow in strength and technical prowess and with each victory they feel emboldened. If Starfleet was at pre-war strength it might not be such a worry, but we both know that isn’t the case.”
“So, have all your conversations with the Ushin been so profound?” Celesta suddenly wanted to lighten the mood in the cramped office.
“Unfortunately, no,” Cole said wearily. “It’s been quite trying. I have to deflect often as they want committed answers that I’m not empowered to give.”
“On a more practical side, how much longer are we going to be required to stay here?” Celesta asked. “The Icarus has plenty of fuel but water, air, and food may become an issue soon and I don’t think Juwel is ready to provide for us just yet.”
“I will try to expedite things.” Cole’s tone clearly indicated he had no such intentions.
“Incoming priority transmission, sir,” Accari said. He’d routed external com functions to the OPS station while the com officer ran down to the wardroom for a quick meal.
“Source?” Barrett asked.
“Huh. It’s a com drone,” Accari said. “It’s not a point-to-point so it’s probably going to fly out of the system since the platform was destroyed. Sending it to your—”
“Just tell me what it says, Lieutenant,” Barrett said.
“We’re being relieved,” Accari paraphrased as he read. “A taskforce is inbound from New Sierra to take up defense of Juwel and oversee the study and dismantling of that machine they left in the ocean.”
“Who drew the short straw and had to come out?” Barrett asked. “And what are they defining as a ‘taskforce?’”
“The anchor is going to be the Dreadnought-class battleship New York commanded by Captain Lee,” Accari said. “A fleet carrier full of science crews and more Marines, four First Fleet destroyers and three missile frigates.”
“Wow.” Barrett whistled in approval. “A proper taskforce with one of the new boomers coming in to squat over the planet. Captain Wright will be pleased to see our efforts will not have been for naught. The Darshik would struggle trying to recapture this planet from that.”
“Yes, sir.”
It was another seven days before the leading elements of Captain Lee’s battlegroup began filtering through the DeLonges jump point. Mercifully, the fleet carrier had been loaded with replacement expendables for the Icarus before departing New Sierra, and the cargo containers containing fresh food and water were left along the flightpath she’d take leaving the system. Terran starships did an admirable job filtering the water and scrubbing the air, but there was still no such thing as a truly closed loop system and eventually things needed to be purged and topped off.
By the time the New York arrived the Ushin had concluded their conversations with Ambassador Cole, a new meeting time and place was tentatively set, and they made a discreet withdrawal before many more Terran warships arrived. For his part Cole simply looked overwhelmed. A lifetime of being ready for a first contact scenario and the first aliens they met, the Phage, weren’t all that talkative. Now he was finally realizing the pressure involved in bridging the language, cultural, and biological gaps without any missteps and it seemed to be taking a toll on him. Celesta couldn’t remember him looking so gaunt and drawn when he’d first boarded some months prior.
“Flight OPS reports that the cargo containers have been brought into the hold and secured,” Accari reported. “They’re going to let them warm up a bit before trying to open the pressure hatches.”
“Coms, send word to Captain Lee that the Icarus is departing the system.” Celesta stood up. “OPS, deploy and charge the warp drive. Helm, you are clear to accelerate to transition velocity plus ten … steady as she bears. Let’s go home.”
29
“And you believe them?” President Augustus Wellington asked his ambassador, hands crossed over his expanding paunch.
“They seem sincere,” Cole nodded. “They also transmitted petabytes worth of evidentiary data that—”
“Yes, yes,” Wellington waved him off. “The Diplomatic Corps, Fleet R&S, Fleet Intel, CIS, and Tsuyo Research Division are all tearing though the digital data you brought back like a pack of scavengers.
“I’m asking you… Do. You. Trust. Them. Don’t clam up on me now, Cole. You were given this job for a reason … apparently.”
“I do trust them, Mr. President,” Cole said stiffly at the thinly veiled swipe at the end of Wellington’s remarks.
“Then I think our business is concluded.” The President heaved himself out of the chair. “You may go. Go get drunk, go get laid, just don’t leave the area. You’ll likely have your ass dragged in front of at least a dozen discovery committees once Parliament gets word of all you agreed to.”
“Yes, Mr. President.” Before Cole reached the door Wellington had one more parting shot.
“Good job, Cole,” he said, sounding genuine. “That wasn’t an easy assignment and you brought back positive results. When the politicians get ahold of you, stand your ground … I don’t think anybody else I could have sent would have done better.”
Cole went from looking stiff to almost embarrassed. “My thanks, sir,” he said before quickly retreating.
Once the door boomed closed to the executive office one of the other occupants spoke up, his voice like an abrasive grinder on the President’s nerves.
“’When the politicians get ahold of you?’ Did that little interrogation not count?”
“Shut up, Pike,” Wellington sneered. “I have to be sure he won’t buckle at the slightest harsh word when the opposition begins tearing into him. Now … what do the three of you think about what he said regarding this Darshik ace? Would taking him out really break down the last remnants of this Phage cult?”
“Seems tenuous, at best, Mr. President,” Admiral Marcum said. “But they are aliens. They worshiped that Phage Super Alpha and now it seems that void has been filled by a military leader that promised them he could lead them to fulfill their destiny. Now that I think about it there is precedence for this sort of thing in human history.”
“I think the issue we should be discussing is not if we’ll be going after this ace, but how,” Admiral Pitt said.
“I take it you have some ideas in that regard?” Wellington asked.
“The admiral and I are not in agreement on this,” Marcum said sourly before being silenced by a look from his boss.
“Our newest generation of warships are ready for active deployment, Mr. President,” Pitt said. “These four new designs include our newest destroyer. I want to send one out to hunt this bastard down.”
“Why would you be against that?” Wellington asked Marcum, perplexed.
“Let him finish,” Marcum said.
“It’s time to put aside the publicity stunts, the petty paybacks, and the borderline bigotry, sir,” Pitt said, ignoring Marcum bristling beside him. “Put Captain Wolfe on the bridge of a destroyer and let him off the leash. Give him six months to get acclimated and pick his command crew, then get the hell out of the way.”
“I’m going to pretend none of that earlier business about bigotry or PR stunts was directed at me.” Wellington sat on the edge of his desk. “He’s your man for this job?”
“It’s between him or Wright,” Pitt nodded. “Between the two I still think Wolfe is the more naturally gifted tactician and leader. I feel Wright can be needlessly reckless at times and still tries to outshine her mentor by taking unsound risks.”
“Make it happen,” Wellington said before pointing to Marcum and Pitt with his two index fingers. “Both of you make it happen. Now get out of here and let me talk to my wayward aide in private.”
“Yes, sir,” both admirals parroted before walking out of the office, Marcum glaring daggers into the back of Pitt’s head as they exited.
“Like fucking children sometimes, these Fleet officers,” Wellington griped after the door shut.
“That’s why I never joined the military,” Pike said lightly. “Please tell me I’m going to get a break, sir. The inside of that Broadhead smells like old socks, spilled beer, and the shattered dreams of my youth.”
“I need you to become Lynch for a time,” Wellington said. “And I mean really become him again, not just put on the expensive suit and haughty expression. I want you shadowing Ambassador Cole.”
“To keep him on the straight and narrow while navigating these august halls of power?”
“Partially,” Wellington said. “I also want him under close observation by someone I trust. Just call it a precaution. He’s been in contact with an alien species of unknown capability for weeks on end, alone, and I’d rather have some sort of warning if he’s been compromised in some way.”
“Understood,” Pike nodded. “Anything else?”
“So between the two admirals that were just here I have one that would like to see Wolfe drummed out of the service and another that thinks he can singlehandedly win the war,” Wellington huffed. “Which one is right?”
Pike considered his words carefully before answering. “I think Marcum’s dislike of Wolfe is borne out of frustration at not having been able to fully control him. Maybe even a little jealousy that almost every time he bucked the chain of command he came back covered in glory, and not a drop of that glory splattered onto Marcum even though he was in the trenches trying to do the right thing … most of the time,” he said. “Pitt doesn’t necessarily love Wolfe either, if you hadn’t realized that. He’s angry he left Starfleet when they could have used his experience and mentorship after the war to help rebuild.”
“You didn’t answer the question,” Wellington said.
“I think you know the answer, sir,” Pike said. “Wolfe may disregard a command structure that has proven itself inept at times, but his loyalty towards the Federation is unwavering despite how he’s been treated, and most of that just because of where he was born.
“I’ve seen him in action many times and I can tell you he’ll never tire, he’ll never quit, and he has sudden insights as to how his enemy thinks that makes him seem lucky … but that couldn’t be further from the truth.”
“So you’d put him back in a destroyer to go wreak havoc in someone else’s backyard?” The question was asked with a half-smile.
“Hell, sir … I’d almost enlist just to go with him.”
“Is this the last one?” Jackson asked.
“It is,” the orderly said. “He asked that you be the ones to pin his medals on personally.”
“I’ve never met the man,” Celesta said. “But it’s an easy enough request to fill.”
The two starship captains were in full service dress and had been making morale calls on those that had been wounded in the Battle of Juwel. Most of them were Marines, but there were a few Fleet officers and enlisted that had been wounded in the exchange of fire. Unbelievably, six of them had been scooped up floating around in lifeboats that had deployed from the Racer and the Resolute.
Neither Jackson nor Celesta had ever been particularly comfortable in the role they were forced into at the moment. Most of the time it was their action or inaction that had caused someone to be injured, and to have to turn around and give that person comfort was exceedingly awkward at times since the wounded spacer would still look at them as the captain and, thus, infallible.
“Sergeant Barton, you have visitors,” the orderly said loudly as he opened the door.
“I’m decent.”
“How are you, Sergeant?” Jackson said as he came around the hanging partition and looked upon a young Marine who was heavily bandaged but looked otherwise intact.
“Sir, ma’am,” Barton said, nodding to each captain. “Thank you for coming. I know you both have to be very busy.”
“I’m stuck here waiting for a ride to the Arcadia System for two more days,” Jackson forced a smile and shrugged.
“I won’t keep you long, either of you,” Barton said. “I just wanted to say thank you … I know you stayed in the system and fought your way back to the planet a second time to deploy our relief force when you’d have been well in the right to say it was too dangerous and fly right back home.
“Without Colonel Beck’s force we’d have all died. You saw my friends already?”
“Corporal Castillo and Major Baer?” Celesta asked. “We talked to them this morning. Castillo is quite the character.”
Barton just smiled. “That he is,” he said.
After a bit more uncomfortable small talk Jackson pinned Barton’s medals for valor onto his hospital gown and stood with Celesta for some pictures with the young man. He was on his way out when Barton stopped him.
“I hear you’re getting another ship, sir,” he said. “A destroyer. I hear you’re gonna hunt that fucker down.”
“That’s … highly classified,” Jackson said, not bothering to deny it. He was always amazed at the accuracy and speed of scuttlebutt aboard New Sierra Platform.
“I want to be on that ship if I can, sir,” Barton said. “I want to try to be on your Marine detachment … watch your back like General Ortiz did back on the Blue Jacket and the Ares.”
“We’ll see about that when you’re up and about, Marine.” Jackson nodded to him and fled the room as quickly as he could.
“You never could take the hero worship,” Celesta teased as she came up beside him in the corridor.
“Never will, either,” Jackson said after failing to think of a sarcastic remark that wasn’t simply mean rather than funny. “So, Captain … when do we leave?”
“The Icarus will be departing for the Tsuyo-Barclays Shipyards in the Arcadia System at 0430 station time where she will be refitted with updated tactical computers and point defense batteries,” she said. “I take it I’ll be heavy one VIP?”
“No, just a broken-down old spacer,” Jackson joked, looking down at his antique watch that was far outside Fleet regs. “Got time for a drink?”
“Why not?”
Epilogue
“Mr. and Mrs. Wolfe, it’s truly an honor. My name is Gyo Hamaski. I’ll be your technical liaison.”
“I’m here in an unofficial capacity, Mr. Hamaski,” Jackson said. “I just wanted to see her before the official orientation and my wife happens to have connections here on the shipyards.”
“Please, call me Gyo,” Hamaski bowed. “And yes, Mrs. Wolfe’s team has done marvelous work getting the training program ready on both the Juggernaut-class battleships and Valkyrie-class destroyers. I’m afraid it won’t be possible to step foot on the ship just—”
“I just want to see her,” Jackson assured him.
Soon the three of them were in a small, autonomous tender with a bulbous, transparent passenger compartment and zipping along the spindly web that made up the shipyard complex. Hulls of varying degrees of completion were all around as were thousands of workers, human and robotic, all going around the clock to get as many starships completed as they could, as quickly as they could.
After a moment they were past the rough construction yard and moving among completed ships, the shapes of which took Jackson’s breath away. He’d been given images of the new ships, of course, but it was never the same as seeing them in person for the first time. His wife looked up at him and seemed to be enjoying his reaction.
“I think you’ll find the Valkyrie-class ship a worthy successor to the Starwolf-class destroyers, Captain, even if they’re not named after you,” Jillian said in a light, teasing tone.
“And there
she is,” Gyo said, commanding the tender to slow down and circle a ship that was nestled into a fully enclosed berth with multiple gangways and umbilicals still attached. “She’s the second operational hull to come out of the yards, third in the class counting the proof-of-concept prototype that we used to shakedown the drives.”
“Spectacular,” Jackson breathed. The ship was sleek, dangerous-looking. There were few protuberances to break up her lines, continuing the trend started by the Starwolf-class, and a shorter, less pronounced superstructure. The hull was dark silver and looked substantially armored. He couldn’t make out too much detail as she was backed into the berth and they were sitting outside in a tender, but he liked what he saw so far.
“What’ll she be called?”
“She was originally going to be christened the TFS Endurance, but that name went to the first hull that’s already doing her shakedown run. You’ll actually start out on that ship to begin training your crew before this one is fully operational,” Jillian said, squeezing his hand. “Admiral Pitt sent word ahead that he’d pulled some strings in the Fleet Operations Subcommittee and had this one renamed to something more appropriate for her mission and her future captain.”
“And that is?” Jackson asked.
“Nemesis.”
Also by Joshua Dalzele
Thank you for reading Iron & Blood,
Book Two of the Expansion Wars Trilogy.
The story will continue with Book Three:
Destroyer
Due in fall of 2017
Iron & Blood: Book Two of The Expansion Wars Trilogy Page 27