"It's painful to look at, sir, but this is a goldmine for our defense." Kelly Peterson said thoughtfully.
"And for our offense," Elias Peña's anger was plain in his voice.
"Agreed," Harris said, finally. They closed up the FDR, and accompanied by Peña, Ron locked it back up in his safe.
ISC Fleet HQ Main Conference Room
Ft. Eustis, VA
Monday, February 14, 2078, 0900 EST
Ron Harris stood nervously at the front of the room as the Liberty crew filed in, Kathy Stewart next to him. Terri Michael was one of the first to arrive, with Rich Evans and Len Davis not far behind. Lieutenants Carol Hansen and Catherine Stevens worked the lobby, greeting the crew and moving them into the large, theater-style room. The officers said 'Hello,' commented on the crappy Virginia winter weather, Valentine's Day, and generally made polite small talk about not much while they waited for the meeting to start.
"Captain Harris, can you tell me what this is about?" Terri asked quietly, pulling him aside, concern clear in her voice.
"Well, we wanted to take a moment to say thanks to the crew, let them know how much we appreciate their help," Ron said evenly, noncommittal.
"Bullshit, Ron. I know you have the FDR," she said, looking him hard in the eye. His small smile gave it all away. "You're not going to-"
"Play the audio?" he interrupted. "Give me a little credit, Commander. Besides, I haven't heard it. I may never hear it." He looked at her steadily and shook his head. "Remind me to never be interrogated by you."
Harris had spent much of Sunday arguing with CINC about if and what to tell the crew. CINC finally agreed that they should know the basic facts, a victory, not a defeat. And they could see the better images of the enemy ships, to appreciate what Dean Carpenter had done. But no details on strikes, misses, the damage to Liberty, or her final moments. He broke away from Terri and was talking to Kathy Stewart about microphone volumes and checking the slides when Carol Hansen appeared at the front of the room.
"All present, Commander," she said to Terri.
"Thanks, Carol. Please call the crew to attention." Carol hesitated a second. ISC Fleet was not as formally military as some, so this was an unusual request. She turned and gave the command, and they stood as if one person, each straight and as tall as they could be, eyes ahead, chins up. Ron quickly glanced the room and was pleased to see that his people had come to attention with them.
"Captain, the floor is yours," Terri said.
"Thank you, Commander." He looked over at Carol. "Lieutenant Hansen, please place the crew at ease and ask them to sit." She did so, and there was a murmur among them, something good about being a crew again and not a collection of survivors. Harris went up the steps onto the stage.
"Good Morning, Liberty. I am Captain Ron Harris, Chief of Fleet Intelligence." He waited for the buzz that generated to subside. "I first want to thank you all for your time over the weekend. Lieutenant Commander Peña and his interview group appreciate your participation and tried very hard to get this over as quickly, and painlessly, as possible. I know many of you thought your experience at Inor insignificant, but I assure you all of the interview data will be correlated and we may find something interesting in it before we're done."
He nodded to Scott Morgan at the back of the room, and the red 'TOP SECRET' banner appeared on the screen. Another buzz rose and he again just waited for it to die down. Let them have these moments, he told himself.
"I really don't care if you have a documented clearance or not. What I am about to show you both I, and CINC, believe you need to see. But it is classified and you must, and I do mean must, not reveal anything that you see here. I don't tend to be heavy-handed, but if there is a leak we will find out, and there will be consequences."
He waited just a moment. "Fair enough?"
There was a unified 'Yes sir!' from the entire group.
"OK. As most of you know, there are flight data recorders on all Fleet ships. Gagarin recovered Liberty's recorder, and we received it on Friday about the time Commander Michael was speaking to the press."
He turned to look directly at Terri.
"Thanks for the diversion by the way, that came in really handy," which got him a few laughs.
"We did an initial exam on Friday afternoon and then worked over the weekend to dig more into the details. So, next slide please Mr. Morgan."
The slide was a 'beauty shot' of Liberty in orbit.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, from a dead start on a quiet Saturday morning, your Captain and your shipmates went into Earth's first ever space combat and dealt this enemy, whoever they are, a decisive defeat."
There was a long moment of shocked silence, then cheers and applause that went on for a while. This crew had believed their ship, without them, had lost the battle above Inor. This was a welcome revelation for them.
"I must also say that all of us here at HQ - CINC, Operations, Plans, Intel, are in awe of what Liberty did that day. The price was steep, but it seems obvious to us that a far greater disaster was avoided."
He turned back to face the screen.
"Next slide, Mr. Morgan."
The screen dissolved into a visual image of a large, silver, generally cylindrical object, some stars visible around it. The end nearest them appeared convex, with what might be windows or openings. There were no apparent markings. They were seeing it from just right of end-on.
"This spacecraft is about eight hundred meters long. Damn near a half a statute mile. It is perhaps one sixty in diameter. This is what your shipmates faced up and beat."
He waited a few seconds. "Next slide."
The image was a long-range shot of six cylindrical ships, four smaller and two larger. They looked the same except for scale. Ron walked from the podium to the screen where he could point out details directly.
"This is what appeared over Inor. Six crazy huge ships. A couple points about these. First, look at how bright they are. They're almost like polished stainless steel. The enemy makes no attempt to conceal themselves. I don't know what that means, but I do think it's significant. At this range, Liberty would have been nearly invisible visually. Second, of course, is the size. They are enormous, even compared to what we have planned. Enterprise, for example, is to be only five hundred meters long. Finally, they seem to be somewhat brittle. These two behemoths were demolished by about six Lances."
There was another murmur in the crew.
"I can't go into too much detail about the battle, but let me just say that Liberty fought valiantly, outnumbered, outgunned, and right to the last. You should remember that with pride. I sure will."
Ron stepped back from the screen to the podium.
"That's what I wanted to tell you this morning. I'll take questions, but I can't guarantee any answers."
Terri spoke first. "How was Liberty destroyed?"
Ron looked at her from the stage with a 'did you really have to ask me that' look on his face. He looked away, then turned back to the crew.
"I can't — no, I won't — go into detail on that. Liberty was outnumbered six to one. Hard to win a gunfight with those odds. They hit all six, we think, killed two and took a chunk off the lead - that first image we showed you."
"What was the enemy's armament?" Len Davis asked.
"Again, I can only say so much. But, that said, the enemy used very high-speed chemical rockets with explosive warheads. Not that different from our own weapons except for propulsion."
"How likely is it that we just got lucky with those big ships and they aren't as brittle as you say?" asked Rich Evans.
"It's possible. Can't say what those odds are."
"How many shots did Liberty absorb?" The question came from the crew.
"I am not going to get into details about Liberty. Some of that is still being parsed out of the FDR data, and, frankly, it's not important for our purpose here. I'll just say she took a lot of punishment before she was destroyed."
"Where did the enemy come from?"
Terri Michaels asked.
"The initial IR data indicates that they came in from the south, as viewed from Earth. That may be significant or it may not."
"Where did they go?"
"No clue."
The questions died down after that - mostly minor items that Harris wasn't able to address. It was time to wrap up.
"Nothing more? OK, please remember the classification of this briefing. Good day, all." As he walked down the steps, Terri Michael stood, and the entire crew stood at attention with her. Harris stepped formally before Terri, exchanged a salute, something rare in the Fleet, and took his people out of the room.
This was the last time the Liberty crew would be together as such. They might serve together on some other ship or see one another from time to time, but this was their final time together as a crew. They were in there for more than an hour after FleetIntel left, and when they came out there were a lot of tears and red eyes, warm embraces, and firm handshakes, promises for coffee or lunch dates that might or might not ever happen. But none of that mattered. They, this small group of 26 individuals, would always be a singular: Liberty. They would each carry a piece of it in their hearts, forever.
ISC Fleet HQ - Office of the Commander in Chief
Ft. Eustis, VA
Tuesday, February 15, 2078, 0900 EST
CINC invited Terri Michael to meet with him and his deputy for an informal discussion of the events at Inor. She instinctively translated 'invited' as 'ordered' and 'informal discussion' as 'inquisition.' Having no choice, she went. Admirals Davenport and Yakovlev met with her in Davenport's office just off the Operations Center. While on Inor, she sent daily status updates to CINC and kept detailed notes of meetings, news, and decisions. On the long trip home in Dunkirk, she had written a report of their ten days on Inor. That report had gone to CINC as soon as Dunkirk was in laser range, sometime the previous Thursday.
"Good morning. Commander. Coffee?"
The admirals took seats on one side of a conference table. She moved to the opposite side, across from the two senior officers. She politely declined refreshments and sat.
"You are well? Your crew also?" asked Yakovlev.
"They are responding well, sir. The crew debriefs are done. Captain Harris' presentation yesterday really lifted their spirits. Most are on leave starting today. I have held the officers back until after this meeting." Her tone was firm and direct, even a little cool. Davenport took notice.
"You see this meeting as, well, adversarial?" he asked.
"I do," she answered, perhaps a little too honestly. "Everything I could remember is in my report. I don't know what else there is to say. You have the FDR, so I don't understand what more you need of me." Davenport leaned forward a little, hand folded under his chin as if in prayer. He spoke quietly, gently.
"This is a hard loss for us, Commander. We're not here to interrogate you. There are some things we'd like to ask about so we have your first-hand view."
"Yes, sir." Her cautious guard remained up, but she was now more open to their questions.
"Tell us about Hansen's talk with the Inori. Does she still believe the enemy was there?"
"I would not phrase it in quite that way, sir. Hansen thinks it is more likely than not, based on the Inori reports, that the enemy did a recon on the system something like ten years ago."
Davenport remained skeptical.
"She is convinced this 'Historian' on the Council is truthful?"
"Again, sir, she would say, and for whatever it's worth I agree, that the Historian is accurately retelling the story as he knows it. We asked him a couple times to go back over it and each time was entirely consistent. The lack of written documentation is troublesome, for sure, but that's how they are."
"You were not kind to the Ambassador in your report," Yakovlev said evenly, changing the subject.
"Yes, in the future we should choose diplomats with less ass and more brains," she said with contempt.
"Excuse me?"
"He had to be pushed, prodded and begged to do what obviously needed to be done. He had little or no ability to think effectively in a fluid situation. He was good at talking to the Inori Council, that's true, but otherwise he was in way over his head."
"I see. I will pass along your thoughts to the ISC Board," Davenport said evenly. Terri doubted that her opinion would ever leave the room.
"Fine. He was a complete jerk. Feel free to quote me."
"I should tell you that Ambassador Johnston was effusive in his praise of you and your crew," Davenport responded.
"Of course he was. We're famous Fleet heroes, at least, according to the media. He's just grabbing a little reflective glory."
"Diplomats are a way of life, Commander," Yakovlev said, "and while we're driven to specific solutions and measurable results, they are sometimes looking at softer criteria. Relationships are important, after all."
"Yes sir, I do understand that. One must, however, be ready to react in a useful manner to unforeseen circumstances. He did not display that talent while we were there." The admirals looked at each other, appearing satisfied with what they had heard.
"New subject, Commander Michael. We've been thinking about your next assignment." That perked up her ears. She was already long past tired of being Lieutenant Commander Teresa Michael The Heroic Commander of the Liberty Survivors. She never felt heroic, and neither did any of her crew. The whole media business disgusted them — so much ignorance paraded as insightful commentary.
"What did you have in mind?"
"First, promotion to full Commander. We feel you've earned that."
She failed to keep the surprise off her face. "Thank you, sir." But she knew being a full Commander meant more that silver oak leaves — she was getting a ship!
"Second, how about Antares?"
No way she was going to conceal her feelings about this. Antares was a brand-new Unity Class Destroyer. A little bigger, a little faster than Liberty, with better sensors and a lot more firepower. She gave up a wide smile.
"Well, sir, Antares would be fine, to be sure." She thought for a moment. "I have some requests."
"Commander. I've just given you a silver oak leaf ahead of half of the promotion list and the newest ship in the fleet!"
"Indeed, you have, sir, and I appreciate all of it. But if I don't ask now, when should I?"
Davenport indicated that she should continue.
"My crew goes with me."
Yakovlev leaned back in his chair, considering the request.
"Mostly, yes, that's fine. She already has a pre-commissioning crew so we'll have to see how the skills line up and who we move off. Nice statement for the public, though, and good for the survivors' morale as well. But, Evans is going to FleetIntel with a promotion, and Davis is getting a promotion and Sigma."
"Sigma. Really? Very nice. One last request?"
"Of course."
"Hansen. I promoted her in the field, sir, but FleetPers has not confirmed it. I need that to stick."
"Yes, we can do that. Don't make a habit of it, or FleetPers will be giving me a headache, which means I will be giving you an even bigger headache."
"Also, sir-"
"You said one more. Is there one more one more?"
Terri Michael was taking Davenport to the cleaners, and he was enjoying it. At least she was open about it.
"A small one. Hansen told me about a classmate, Powell. He had a family emergency senior term at SFU and did not graduate. He basically dropped out of sight after his father committed suicide. She feels strongly that he got a bad deal, was nearly done with his courses, was an exceptional student, and deserves to be commissioned. Since the University denied him re-admittance, he's serving out his commitment as a warrant. I'd like that looked into."
Davenport was writing down the name. "First name?"
"David."
"I will have Lieutenant Peters look into it."
"One more question, sir, not a request."
"Cert
ainly."
"Who did you have in mind for XO?"
"We'll send you a list of eligible O-4s. Pick who you want."
"Oh, well, that's very generous. Thank you, sir."
"So, this meeting was perhaps not so painful? No rack? No hot lights? No inquisition?" Yakovlev teased.
Terri smiled. "No, Admiral, not at all what I expected." As she stood she extended her hand to Davenport. "Thank you, sir, for everything. I appreciate it and I know the crew will be very grateful to you."
As she left, she had to admit to herself that it really was no inquisition. CINC and his deputy needed to hear some things from her, not from her report. She had satisfied them and was walking out with a promotion and new ship. Not a bad deal she thought to herself. She just wished Dean Carpenter was there to congratulate her.
Terri Michael left CINC’s office, and as she walked through the Operations Center, a thick-set, dark-skinned Lieutenant Commander waved her down.
"Commander Michael, ma'am, James George. I was on watch when Liberty's message came."
He reached out his hand, and Terri took it.
"I was also here for your first two updates."
"Both? Were you not getting any sleep, Commander George?"
He smiled. It was a genuine smile, and she could see the cheerful soul that powered it.
"James, please."
"Terri."
"Well, I hung around for a while after Captain Carpenter's FLASH then went off after your first and was back for the second. Great work you did, Terri. Tough situation."
"I got lucky with the crew."
"Yes, I saw your statement when you got back. Well said."
"So, if you were the watch officer at that time...the war warning, the rescue op order...that was you?"
George was suddenly shy, looking down at his shoes for a moment, then recovering.
"Yes. Word is your oak leaves will be changing color soon," he said with a sly smile.
"Indeed? How is it that everyone knows before me?"
"Its Fleet Headquarters. Hard to keep any decent secrets around here."
She laughed. An idea was forming in the back of Terri Michael's mind. She wasn't sure it was a good idea, but it was looking better and better.
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