by Ryk Brown
“Board is clear,” the sensor operator reported. “No other ships in the area.”
“Launch the jump missile,” the admiral ordered. The admiral turned his attention to one of the many view screens on the far wall. The missile launcher tilted upward slightly, then pivoted to the right a few degrees. The launcher’s rails lit up as electromagnetic energy surged down them, propelling the missile off the rails and into space. On the next screen to the right, the admiral could see the tail of the missile come to life, bright yellow thrust blasting out the back of the missile as it accelerated away. Then, only a few seconds later, the entire missile disappeared in a blue-white flash of light.
The admiral glanced at the tactical display, where the icon for the missile also disappeared. He then turned his attention to the view screen displaying the feed from the targeting drone. There was another blue-white flash of light. For a few seconds after, he could see a faint white dot of the missile coming toward the camera, growing in size as it drew closer. The screen flashed yellow, filled with scrambled image fragments, then went black, the words ‘Loss of Signal’ displayed in its center.
“We have missile impact,” the tactical officer announced. “Waiting for confirmation.”
“Targeting drone is gone, jump missile is gone,” the sensor officer reported. “I’m picking up debris in the area of the target drone’s last position. Type matches the drone, spread matches the trajectory of the weapon. We have a confirmed kill.”
Admiral Dumar turned to look at Lieutenant Tillardi, who was standing at the back of the room, looking like a proud father. “Nice work, Lieutenant.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Now, make us two hundred more.”
Tillardi smiled. “Yes, sir.”
* * *
“Turn two, complete,” Captain Nash reported as he powered back his gunship’s main propulsion system.
“Return jump in ten seconds,” Lieutenant Commander Rano replied. “Think they’ll get it right this time?”
“I hope so,” the captain replied, “but I’m keeping my hands on the controls, just in case.”
“Jumping.”
The cockpit windows turned opaque for a brief moment.
“Contacts!” Ensign Doray announced from the tactical console directly behind the pilot’s station. “Cobra Two! Fifty meters to port and closing!”
“Two, Leader!” Captain Nash called over the comms as he pulled the nose of his ship up and brought his engines to full power. “Pitch down and break left! Three! Down and right! Four, up and right!” Nash glanced out his window as Cobra Two slid in under him, then fell away and back left as Nash guided his gunship up and away from the approaching ship, narrowly avoiding a collision.
“Two is falling away and left,” the ensign reported. “Three falling away to the right. Four is climbing with us and fading right as well.”
“Damn it,” Captain Nash cursed. He took a deep breath, then lowered his nose level with the system’s ecliptic and reduced his main engines to zero thrust once again. “Cobra Leader to all ships. Form up on me. Standard diamond. One high, Four low. Be ready to transmit your flight logs to me.”
“Four copies.”
“Three copies.”
“Two copies… Sorry, sir.”
Nash looked at his XO. “It’s a simple maneuver. Everybody comes back around on nineties from one another, arriving at one hundred meter spacings.”
“Maybe we should start with thousand meter spacings?” his XO wondered.
“So that we’re spread out over four kilometers? We won’t be able to concentrate our fire power that way.”
“All these maneuvers are programmed into the auto-flight systems, you know. That’s how they’re going to do it in battle…with the auto-flight.”
“I know,” Captain Nash agreed. “But they have to be able to do it manually first, and that’s going to require practice.”
“And if they should have to defend this system in the meantime, shouldn’t they have some experience executing such maneuvers using the auto-flight systems?”
“Of course, but if those systems fail…”
“Perhaps we should mix it up? Sometimes let them use the auto-flight to execute the maneuver. It might help them see where they went wrong during manual execution.”
Captain Nash thought for a moment, as he adjusted his gunship’s course heading. “Good point.” He sighed. “Okay, we’ll do the next one with auto-flight.” He keyed his comms. “Cobra Flight, Cobra Leader. Rendezvous at Echo four seven and prepare for another mock attack run.” Captain Nash looked at the lieutenant commander. “We’re going to keep doing this until we get it right.”
“Give them time,” Lieutenant Commander Rano said. “They’ll get the hang of it.”
“They’d better,” Nash replied wearily. “Their lives may depend on it.”
* * *
Master Sergeant Jahal scanned his data pad, then looked back at his commander. “All twenty of them met the thirty-second deployment maximum. Total time from jump-in to jump-out was less than two minutes across the board. The average was ninety seconds.”
“How long does it take for a chaser to travel from the launcher to its target?” Commander Telles asked.
Jahal raised his brow skeptically. “I’ll tell them to get it under one minute.”
“At least.” The intercom on the commander’s desk beeped. “Yes?”
“Sir, Admiral Dumar’s shuttle just landed.”
Telles looked at his master sergeant in silent accusation. “Were you aware that Dumar was coming?”
“Negative,” the master sergeant replied.
The commander pressed his intercom button again. “The admiral’s destination?”
“Word from the ground crew is that he is headed to see you, sir.”
“Very well.”
“Surprise inspection?”
“If he were a Ghatazhak general, I suspect that would be the case. Besides, such inspections are not in the admiral’s nature.”
“He does seem more of a ‘big picture’ kind of leader,” Jahal reasoned.
“See that those times are improved,” the commander insisted.
“Yes, sir,” the master sergeant replied.
“Once you do, run the same insertion drills during the night, and in varying terrain and weather conditions, as well,” the commander added. “I want under a minute in all conditions, not just favorable ones.”
“Of course.” The master sergeant turned and exited the commander’s office.
Commander Telles placed his data pad on his desktop, then stood as he heard one of his office staff announce that the admiral was ‘on deck.’ The admiral entered his office seconds later, followed by one of his security detail personnel, who closed the office door behind him and waited outside.
“Commander,” the admiral greeted. “I apologize for the unannounced visit.”
“No apologies necessary, admiral,” the commander assured him. “To what do I owe the honor?”
Admiral Dumar sighed as he took a seat. “Please,” he said, gesturing for the commander to also sit. “I’m afraid this Alliance has asked quite a lot of you and your men.”
“Nothing we cannot handle, sir,” the commander replied as he took his seat. “It is what we Ghatazhak are for, is it not?”
“It may have been, but it cannot continue to be, as there are too few of you remaining, and there are no more coming.”
Commander Telles did not reply, anticipating that the admiral had more to say.
After a brief pause, the Admiral continued. “Tell me, Commander. What is your assessment of the Jung ground forces?”
“Well trained, well equipped, and willing to sacrifice themselves when so ordered.”
Admiral Dumar’s eyebrow went up in surprise. “Interesting.”
Commander Telles looked puzzled. “How so?”
“Your choice of words. ‘When so ordered.’ I would have expected something more along t
he lines of, ‘for what they believe in,’ or ‘for their people.’ The words you chose reflect a certain lack of respect on your part.”
“Hardly. I am merely stating what I know to be facts.”
“How so?” the admiral wondered, turning the phrase back on the commander.
“I judge the quality of their training by their level of confidence under fire, and the skilled manner in which they move. Both reflect many hours of repetitive skills training to create muscle memory. The reason I chose the words ‘when so ordered’ is because I have no way of knowing why they are willing to die. I have, however, seen them charge into certain death…on command. Thus, I can use the words ‘when so ordered’ with reasonable accuracy.”
Admiral Dumar chuckled. “The Ghatazhak are nothing if not logical and precise in their thought processes.”
“Logic and accuracy are critical to our success,” the commander explained. “The human mind has a tendency to play tricks, leading us to believe that something is true, simply because we wish it to be so. Such inaccuracies can be deadly.”
“But you still follow your ‘gut’ at times, do you not?” the admiral asked.
“Admiral, the only thing my gut tells me is when it is time to eat, and when it is time to evacuate my bowels.”
“I think you know what I mean, Commander.”
“If you are referring to making a decision when the facts could lead to more than one opposing conclusion, then yes, sometimes we do ‘follow our gut.’ I believe the people of Earth call it a ‘hunch.’”
“Indeed. So, with that in mind, I ask for your assessment of the Jung ground troops once more…and I would appreciate it if you offered more than just facts, as such things I could easily discern from your combat action reports.”
Commander Telles took a deep breath, thinking for a moment before responding. “As I said, their training is of higher than average quality. I believe them to be on par with the Corinari. Their morale and overall health appears to be good, which indicates that they are properly supported, logistically. However, although they are willing to fight and die on command, I do not believe their hearts are in it.”
“How did you come to that conclusion?”
“When a Ghatazhak fights, he does so with every fiber of his being…to the point that it takes considerable restraint for us to not kill our opponents. When the Jung fight, they are trying to accomplish their goal while still surviving. When the Ghatazhak fight, survival is not on their agenda, only the goal is on their minds. You can see it in our eyes, if you know what to look for.”
“What is it that one would look for?”
“Fear,” the commander replied without hesitation. “There is fear in the eyes of the Jung foot soldier. Not all, but most.”
“You’re saying that the Ghatazhak do not feel fear?”
“No, sir, I am not. The Ghatazhak feel fear, just like any other man. We simply choose not to let it interfere with what we know must be done.”
Admiral Dumar looked confused. “I don’t see how that can be done.”
Commander Telles looked down at his desk for a moment, recalling the words of one of his instructors from his days as a young Ghatazhak cadet. “Suppose you and I are running to escape a charging garatahk, bent on our destruction. Ahead of us is a deep, yawning chasm, one wide enough that we are unsure whether or not we can jump over it safely. You will experience fear. Fear based on your own doubt in your abilities. That fear creates indecision. That moment of indecision, as brief as it may be, could cause the power in your stride to falter slightly. One, maybe two strides that are not as strong as they could have been. Will it be enough to ruin your chances of jumping the chasm? Or worse yet, will you stop running, and turn and face the charging garatahk, and likely die? I, on the other hand, being a Ghatazhak, will continue running at full speed as I judge the width of the chasm, the prevailing winds, and then weigh the odds of clearing the chasm versus turning to defeat the beast. Once done, I will simply choose the best course of action and follow through with it to the best of my ability.”
“And survival is not a factor?”
“No, it is not. The goal is what dictates my decision. Of course, the goal could simply be to survive.”
“That’s a very fine line, Commander.”
“Yes, it is,” the commander agreed. “It is also an important distinction, especially for a Ghatazhak. Training alone is only half of what makes the Ghatazhak what we are. The other half is mental. It is knowledge. It is understanding. It is the ability to see the entire picture. To analyze it, and all the possible actions and outcomes…all in a single instant.”
“And the Jung do not have that?”
“No, they do not. Nor do the Corinari. As far as I know, the Ghatazhak are the only ones who approach combat in such a way.”
“And that time when you ordered the massacre of civilians threatening to breach the fence around the evacuation port? Or when you decided to engage that man in a knife duel?”
“The Ghatazhak never do anything without a reason,” the commander explained, “and a well thought out reason, to be sure. As was the case in both of the incidents to which you refer. I can explain my thought processes in both incidents, if you would like?”
“No thank you, Commander,” the admiral said with a wave of his hand. “It was not my intent to question your decision-making processes, but rather to take advantage of them. You see, I lack the emotional self-control of a Ghatazhak, and at times, my judgment becomes clouded by my own emotions and bias.”
“You seek advice, Admiral?”
“I do.”
“About?”
“How would you handle the current situation with the Jung?” Admiral Dumar asked.
“Admiral, that is not for me to…”
“You are as qualified as anyone, Commander,” the admiral reassured him. “Perhaps even more so.”
“But, there may be intel that I am not…”
“I assure you, Commander, you know everything that I know, and then some. Please, I will not hold it against you, should your views differ from my own.”
Commander Telles took a deep breath and sighed, considering his words carefully before he spoke. “I agree with your plan to expand the Jung-free zone around Sol as far as possible. Every light year that is added to its radius is time that the Alliance has to build its forces and prepare a defense. However, it is imperative that you remove not only their space forces, but also their ground forces.”
“And how would you propose we do that, considering the fact that your own forces are limited?”
“Orbital bombardment, then air strikes, then follow up with boots on the ground for clean-up. Simple as that.”
“And what of collateral damage?” Dumar asked.
“It is not a factor,” the commander replied without hesitation or remorse.
“Even if they are innocent civilians? Women, children, elderly…”
“You’ve read the teachings of Lord Evatay, have you not?”
“I have.”
“Do you agree that the citizens share in the responsibility of a corrupt government, if they have done nothing to correct the problem?”
“Overall, yes. However, many of these people do not have the ability to take action.”
“True, but again, it is not a factor in my decision as to whether or not to risk collateral damage. Our goal is to neutralize the enemy forces, and to do so with minimum casualties to our own forces. In order to do that, I cannot be concerned with the welfare of nearby non-combatants.”
“But there are ramifications to the loss of lives deemed to be innocent by their fellow citizens.”
“When our ships target their ships, they target the entire ship, not just the members of the crew that operate her weapons. The engineers, the medical staff, the galley staff, the barber…everyone on board that ship dies. Are they fair game simply because they agreed to enlist? Did they agree to enlist? Or was their service an inescapable requirement of thei
r society?”
“We don’t know…”
“Which is why we cannot be concerned with that fact.”
“Your analogy is flawed, Commander,” the admiral argued. “We cannot defeat the ship without killing the non-combatant members of her crew. The Jung do not surrender.”
“Nor can we afford to take out the enemy’s ground forces without loss of indigenous non-combatants…not if you wish the Ghatazhak to survive long enough to liberate all the worlds in this sector, Admiral. That is a fact that must be considered when formulating a plan.”
“Which is why I am here, speaking with you,” Dumar pleaded. “I need a way to eliminate those ground forces without significant loss of indigenous non-combatants.”
“Why do you care about these people?” Commander Telles wondered.
“Because I need them to join us,” the admiral replied. “Not because they fear us, but because they believe in us. We need people…thousands of them. Hundreds of thousands, in fact. We need them to fight. We need them to build. We need them to farm. More importantly than all of that, we need them to believe. To believe that, together, we can defeat the Jung.”
“That is the problem, Admiral,” the commander said, shaking his head. “You cannot defeat the Jung.”
Admiral Dumar looked surprised.
“It is simple math. When you look at the number of ships, the time required for interstellar communications, and the time required to move ships into position for coordinated attacks, then compare them to even the most optimistic build schedules—even if you had every system in this sector on your side, and every one of them had a shipyard like the Cetians—the best you could ever hope for would be a stalemate. That, Admiral, is an irrefutable fact.”
“Then why do you and your men fight?” the admiral wondered.
“The logical answer would be because we were programmed to be loyal to the Alliance, and in my case, to Captain Scott. But it goes deeper than that. We fight for the Alliance because we believe it is the right thing to do.”
“An odd statement, coming from a man who was trained to kill without remorse.”