Ep.#8 - Celestia: CV-02 (The Frontiers Saga)

by Ryk Brown

  “The Reliant is mid-system right now,” Admiral Galiardi said. “I don’t want to recall her until the Intrepid is in position to take her place.”

  “Yes, sir,” Rear Admiral Duncan said. “I’ll see to it that the Intrepid is under way as soon as her crew reports in.”

  “Very good,” Admiral Galiardi said. “I want the Celestia fully fueled and ready to leave the OAP as soon as possible. Once the Intrepid departs, reassign her work crews to the Celestia. I’d like to see her flight deck functional so we can start using it as a construction staging area. Four sub-light warships are not enough. They may be heavily armed, but the Jung ships can easily outrun them. Without the Aurora, the Celestia is our last hope of defending ourselves. Let’s get her built, Marty.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Now, if there is nothing further,” the admiral said as he stood, “I have a shuttle to catch. I’ll return tonight, after the budget vote.”

  * * *

  Marlene Scott stood beside the armchair in her husband’s office, staring out the large picture window that overlooked the valley below. She could still remember her youngest son sitting on his father’s knee as they stared out the window together. Nathan had always been a fidgety child, never sitting still. He had always wanted down off his father’s knee in order to go and play. He was so unlike his older brother, Eli, who would sit there listening intently to his father for hours on end without complaint.

  “Mother?” her youngest daughter, Miri, called from the doorway. “Everything is packed. Would you like to look over the bags before we load them?”

  Marlene looked at her daughter. “I’m sure they’re fine.”

  Miri saw the tears in her mother’s eyes. It had not been an uncommon sight over the past two months, ever since her brother, Nathan, had been lost along with the other hundred souls on board the ill-fated Aurora. She moved closer to her mother to provide comfort and support. “What is it?”

  “I was just picturing Nathan trying to climb down off your father’s knee right here in this chair.”

  Miri stepped up beside her mother, putting her arms around her as she leaned her head against her mother’s shoulder. “Maybe getting away from this house for a while is a good thing.”

  “Perhaps,” Marlene said, “but this house will be with me wherever I go. It’s our home.”

  “I know. But there are so many things here that remind you of Nathan, Mom.”

  “I don’t need anything to remind me of him.”

  “I know. That’s not what I meant,” Miri said.

  Marlene turned back toward the window. “I don’t really want to live in Winnipeg. Especially not with…”

  “Mom, you have to stop blaming Dad.”

  “I don’t blame him, honey,” Marlene protested. “After all, I’m the one that begged him to change Nathan’s assignment. I blame myself.”

  “Then why? Why don’t you want to be around him?”

  “Because he doesn’t feel anything,” Marlene said. “He hasn’t so much as cried since Nathan disappeared. How do you not feel for a lost child? For your own son?”

  “He feels, Mom. He feels. He just can’t show it. He has too much to deal with right now. He’s the president, remember?”

  “Mrs. Scott?” the protection agent called from the doorway. “The van is here. Shall we load your bags, ma’am?”

  “How can I forget,” Marlene told her daughter. “Yes, please. Thank you,” she said to the agent.

  “Yes, ma’am,” the agent replied as he backed out of the doorway.

  “Why don’t you go ahead,” Miri suggested to her mother. “I’ll see to the bags.”

  “You have your own family to care for, dear.”

  “They’re at a pool party at their friend’s, Mom, and Lee is at the hospital. I have plenty of time.”

  “I’m going to miss you all so much,” Marlene said as she kissed her daughter on the cheek.

  “We’re only an hour away, Mother,” Miri reminded her. “And you’ll have your own private shuttle on standby for you, remember? You’re the wife of the president.”

  Marlene rolled her eyes. “Then I guess I’d better be going,” she said, pulling herself together. “Somebody has to turn that dreary place they call a residence into an acceptable home.”

  Miri watched as her mother headed for the door.

  “I’ll get changed,” her mother called as she left the room.

  Miri sighed and took a seat in the large armchair in front of the window. She, too, had sat on her father’s knee as he sat in that very same chair, as had all of her brothers and sisters at one time or another. She, too, could remember Nathan squirming from his father’s grasp as he struggled to get down. He had always been so rambunctious, so independent. A tear welled up in her eye as she thought of her younger brother. Oh, Nathan, she thought. Why did you have to join the fleet?

  * * *

  Captain Yahi sat in his command chair as he sipped his cup of tea. All about him, the bridge of the UES Reliant bustled with activity as more than a dozen officers and technicians went about the daily routine of running the massive sub-light warship. They had been on patrol for nearly two years now, and his crew was as practiced and efficient as any crew in the fleet, but they were also homesick. They needed to go back to Earth, to see the clear, blue skies of their homeworld, to see their loved ones, to sleep in their own beds, and to wear civilian clothes. They needed to be reminded of what it was they were protecting.

  “Latest communiqué from Fleet,” Commander Denker, the Reliant’s executive officer, said as he handed the data pad to his captain.

  Captain Yahi set down his tea on the arm of his command chair and placed his left thumb against the data pad’s fingerprint reader. The data pad’s screen lit up and displayed the message. “The Intrepid will be getting under way sometime tomorrow morning. We should be clear to return to Earth within twenty-four hours of her departure from the OAP.”

  “It’s about time,” Commander Denker said. “If we don’t get back to port soon, you’re going to run out of tea.”

  “Well, we can’t have that, now can we?” The captain smiled as he handed the data pad back to his XO and picked up his teacup once more.

  “Flight reports delta patrol is away,” the tactical officer, Lieutenant Calloway, reported.

  “What’s the latest from the FTL recon ships?” Captain Yahi asked the lieutenant as he took another sip.

  “Last feed was three hours ago, sir. All recon points except for Three and Six show no contacts.”

  “What’s with Three and Six?” the captain wondered.

  “Last word from Fleet said Three was overdue,” Commander Denker added.

  “How overdue?” Captain Yahi asked, the slightest concern showing on his face.

  “This message was sent an hour ago, so Six still isn’t due for another hour,” Commander Denker said. “But Recon Three is nearly an hour and a half past her check-in window by now.”

  “Let’s keep our long-range sensor array pointed at Three’s territory until Fleet hears from her, just in case,” Captain Yahi said.

  “Hunch?” the commander asked, noticing his captain’s slight change of expression.

  “Just caution,” the captain said as he sipped his tea again. “We’re two days from port. Not a good time for surprises.”

  * * *

  Synda Conklin plodded up the last few stairs of her apartment building, her bag slung over her shoulder, tired after a long shift at a job she detested. She could still smell the stench of alcohol and tobacco on her clothing as she made her way down the hallway to her door.

  “I’m home!” Synda announced as she entered the apartment and closed the door behind her.

  “You’re late!” her roommate, Nikki, ca
lled from the next room.

  “I worked a double,” Synda responded as she tossed her bag on the couch, “and all my tips were in change. It took forever to cash them in.”

  “Cheap bastards!” Nikki said as she entered the living room. “You’ve got emails,” she said, pointing to the computer terminal on the desk in the corner of the room.

  “Where are you going?” Synda asked her roommate as she sat down and logged onto the terminal.

  “I’ve got a date,” Nikki announced excitedly as she pulled on a colorful, loose-fitting sweater.

  “At ten o’clock in the morning?”

  “Actually, it’s a continuation of last night’s date,” Nikki said. “I just came home to change and freshen up. We’re going out to brunch.”

  “Slut.”

  “You’re just jealous.”

  “Oh, crap,” Synda said, her expression becoming worried.

  “What?”

  “I’ve got a message from Fleet.”

  “Well, read it,” Nikki urged.

  “I’m afraid. I don’t think I can take another rejection.”

  “How are you going to fight the evil Jung hoards if you can’t even open an email?” Nikki teased.

  Synda tapped the screen to open the message and began reading. Her expression immediately became crestfallen. “I knew it.”

  Nikki froze in the middle of putting on her shoes. “I’m sorry, Syndles. Maybe next time?”

  “That’s three tries, Nikki,” Synda said. “Fleet doesn’t accept more than three applications. That’s it. I’m done for.”

  “Oh, come on,” Nikki said, trying to be supportive. “Fleet isn’t your only option in life.”

  “What am I supposed to do? Find a nice guy, get married, and start popping out kids like some kind of baby factory?”

  “What’s wrong with that?” Nikki asked, her hands on her hips.

  “Nothing,” Synda said, apologetically. “It’s not what I want out of life.”

  “Well, there’s always the militias,” Nikki said as she grabbed her bag and headed for the door.

  “Guess I have to face it,” Synda admitted as she picked up her own bag. “I’m going to be stuck as a ground pounder for the rest of my life.”

  “Where are you going?” Nikki asked.

  “I’m going to the gym to work off my frustrations before I go to bed.”

  “Well, I’ll try not to wake you when I get back,” Nikki promised.

  * * *

  Sergeant Surbeck watched as the guards changed at the gates of the United Earth Republic headquarters compound. Behind the gates, the colors of the setting sun sparkled off the distant waters of Lake Geneva, casting a somber amber light across the city.

  “Good evening, Sergeant,” the corporal greeted as he approached the guard post.

  “Good evening, Corporal,” Sergeant Surbeck said. “What are you doing here?”

  “The lieutenant wants to double-up on all guard posts tonight, what with the EDF budget vote and all.”

  “What does the lieutenant think the Jung are going to do? Attack a budget meeting?”

  “No, sir,” the corporal answered with a grin. “I think he’s more worried about civilian protesters and such. Haven’t you been watching the news feeds?”

  “Yeah, I’ve been watching. I’m just not worried about a bunch of tree-licking crybabies who don’t have the guts to defend their world.”

  “I take it you don’t care much for the anti-military types.”

  “They have their place, I suppose,” the sergeant said, “as long as that place is as far away from me as possible.”

  “Couldn’t agree with you more, sir.” The corporal smiled.

  The sergeant watched the retiring squad leave its post at the front gate just as the second unit, the one the lieutenant had requested, also arrived at the main gate. He looked out at the gathering crowd in the distance, their signs resting lazily on their shoulders as they waited for the first dignitary to arrive. There were no news cameras pointed at the mingling crowd as of yet, which meant they had little interest in demonstrating at the moment. That was fine with the sergeant, who did not look forward to an entire day of snappy slogans aimed at the very people who were trying to protect the world and see to it that everyone, everywhere, was safe.

  “Command reports the NAU shuttles are inbound,” the corporal informed him.

  Sergeant Surbeck looked at the crowd as it began to move into position, their signs and banners raised in unison as they began their chants. Somehow, they always seemed to know when someone important was arriving. The news cameramen also began to move into position, aiming their cameras at the assembling crowd as it surged toward the main gate.

  “Stand ready, gentlemen!” the sergeant barked.

  * * *

  “Control! Sensors! Multiple contacts! Four two mark two eight five. Range: twenty million kilometers. Transferring tracks to tactical!”

  Captain Yahi handed his tea to the steward on his left. “Tactical, I want ID, course, and speed on those contacts.”

  “Working on it, sir,” Lieutenant Calloway answered.

  Commander Denker looked at the plotting table in front of him. “Four two mark two eight five is right in line with Three’s recon area, Captain.”

  Captain Yahi looked at his XO without saying a word. “Still waiting on course and speed, Lieutenant,” he urged his tactical officer.

  “Flight, stand by to launch a comm-runner!” the XO ordered.

  “Standing by on a comm-runner, aye!” the flight operations officer answered.

  “Captain, based on thermal signatures, I make all six contacts as Jung cruisers. They’re flying in a standard cruise formation, Captain.”

  “Course?”

  “They’re headed for Earth, sir. ETA at present speed: four hours.”

  “Mister Erbe, time to intercept at maximum acceleration?” the captain asked.

  “Eighty-seven minutes, sir,” the navigator answered.

  Captain Yahi turned to his executive officer. “Sound general quarters, Commander. Launch the comm-runner.”

  “Tactical!” Commander Denker bellowed as a chill went down his spine. “Set general quarters! All hands to battle stations!”

  “Battle stations, aye!” Lieutenant Calloway answered.

  “Flight! Launch the comm-runner,” the commander continued. “Report all contacts to Fleet: type, course, and speed. Advise Fleet we have gone to battle stations and are changing course to intercept.” The commander looked at the time display above the forward view screens. “Time of intercept will be one one three seven Earth standard.”

  “Comm-runner away, sir!” Lieutenant Fudala reported from the flight operations station.

  “Mister Stewart,” the commander said, turning forward. “Bring us onto an intercept course with the contacts, best possible acceleration to a maximum of one percent light.”

  “Changing course toward contacts,” the ensign at the helm answered. “Best acceleration to one percent light, aye.”

  Commander Denker paused by his captain on his way to the exit. “Let’s hope they’re a peace envoy,” he mumbled.

  CHAPTER THREE

  The massive assembly room of the United Earth Republic was filled with the sounds of dozens of conversations in dozens of languages, as the sixteen members of the EDF budget committee and their various advisors and administrative assistants discussed the topic of the day’s vote.

  President Scott sat quietly in the second row, his son Eli on his right and his military liaison on his left. He had not partaken in any of the morning’s debate on the EDF’s new budget proposal, choosing instead to listen intently as others expressed their concerns, many of which were similar to his own. His
son had urged him several times to stand and speak his mind, if only to put on a show for those voters who expected him to fervently oppose the EDF’s budget proposal and call for a decrease in overall military expenditures around the world. The President of the North American Union, however, had chosen to remain silent, soaking in the opinions of the world leaders around him as if his own decisions rested on the opinions of his fellow representatives.

  The repeated pounding of the UER president’s gavel as he hammered it against its base finally brought the din under control and, eventually, a hush fell across the great room. “We have heard the opinions of many this day,” President Wilkey began, “and their views have been varied. But the time has come to put the newly proposed budget of the Earth Defense Force to a vote.” President Wilkey raised his hand and gestured to the committee member at the far end of the first row. “President Nwosu, if you would begin the vote.”

  The light at the front of the table before President Nwosu, of the Republic of Africa, turned green, indicating approval of the proposed EDF budget. The African president’s eyes remained fixed straight ahead as the man next to him activated his green light as well. One by one, the lights in the room turned mostly green, with a few naysayers casting red lights to indicate their disapproval.

  Admiral Galiardi watched from his table as the votes were cast. When the vote reached President Scott, of the North American Union, there were only four committee members left who had not yet voted. With a two-thirds majority required in order for the budget to be approved, one more nay vote would send the admiral back to his financial planners for yet another overhaul of the budget. Of the four members left, only President Scott had been publicly opposed to the military buildup aimed at defending the Earth from the Jung.