by CJ Williams
“That’s what I’ve been saying,” Lindsey reminded her. “I’m happy to get the guys. I’ve always got more projects than manpower. But frankly, I think their first priority will be to impregnate the native women.”
“Governor!” Carrie exclaimed, surprised and not a little affronted.
Lindsey chuckled at her discomfiture. “Relax. Soldiers have been doing that very thing since ancient Sparta. Normally, they get local girls pregnant and then they ship out.”
“Well, they’re not shipping out of here. Not if they have kids.”
“That’s my point,” Lindsey agreed. “You’ve seen our research. Demographics of the surviving Soyujans tilts toward females; the Bakkui attack left a lot of widows behind. The five thousand soldiers still on board Lulubelle would help offset that. Admit it.”
“That’s true,” Carrie agreed, only slightly mollified. Lindsey’s personal goal was to nourish the surviving population. Only a half million people had survived the Bakkui attack before the Alliance’s arrival.
“I’ll turn most of the soldiers into local citizens. I’m hoping we’ll get a little population boom going. That would help a lot with the Soyujans’ long-term survival.”
Carrie gave him a rueful grin. “Okay, you win. In that case, I hope our replicator database has a lot of baby furniture in it.”
Lindsey smiled. “I already checked. We’re good on that score.”
*.*.*.*
Late that afternoon in Lulubelle’s main conference room, Zach had just started the presentation his new strategy to the full staff. It was a big shakeup, and Carrie could feel the excitement in the air. The change of strategy would give people something to think about other than the bad news from Earth. They could sort out in their own minds where they fit in the new structure, who would go out on the next mission and fight, and who would stay behind.
Halfway into the briefing, George interrupted Carrie with a mental notification.
Captain, a new message drone is arriving.
“Hold it everyone,” she said. “New message drone coming in. Hopefully it’s the update from Earth we’ve been waiting for.”
“Thank God,” someone at the other end of the table said.
Carrie looked at the ceiling. “George, pipe the message to our display screen, please.”
Are you sure, Captain? This is not good news.
Carrie winced. That was not what she wanted to hear. She had convinced herself that the next message would be from Roth, saying everything on Moonbase was fine.
Instructing George to display the message had been a foolish impulse, but it was too late now. Everyone in the room was holding their breath. Besides, good or bad, they had a right to know. Uppermost in everyone’s mind was what was happening on Earth. She faced her crew and tried to keep her voice neutral.
“George just informed me this is not good news. I’m not sure what to expect, so brace yourself. Go ahead, George.”
The wall behind her illuminated. In the center of the display was a young blue-skinned officer in an Alliance uniform. Carrie realized the message was from Jigu. That possibility hadn’t occurred to her; she had been too spring-loaded for an update from Earth.
The woman on the screen was crying and trying hard to hold herself together. She was reading from a single page, but her trembling fingers made it difficult.
“Doctor Higgins, Captain Faulkner, Governor Lindsey,” the woman began. “I am Ensign So’wie reporting from Moonbase Two in the Jigu system under Warlord Blackburn’s authority.” Her voice cracked when she recited the Commander’s name.
“In accordance with Standing Order Seven, I regret to inform you that the Warlord was lost in combat against a Bakkui warship along with Chancellor Sarangi Bo’erm.” The woman stopped to sob, overcome by the horrible news. Someone out of the camera’s view put a comforting hand on her shoulder, but she batted it away and struggled to compose herself.
Carrie’s staff, seated around the conference table, reacted noisily upon hearing the news. “Silence!” she barked, smothering their emotional outbursts. There was fear, even panic, on some of the faces.
She turned back to the message, her mind racing at the devastating news. Standing Order Seven originated from a book that the Commander had put together. He called it their Continuity Manual.
Order number seven was invoked if the ranking officer of any expedition realized the mission was going to fail. He or she was required to send a message drone back to headquarters with as much information as possible. If the ranking officer was unable, the next in line assumed the responsibility.
Ensign So’wie put the paper she was holding onto the table and smoothed it out several times before continuing.
“The Bakkui entered our system two days ago and engaged our forces near the innermost gas giant, Toseong, where the Warlord had flown our Chancellor to view the planetary rings. Two of our Ambrosia-class warships attempted to assist the Chancellor and were also destroyed. All further attempts to engage the Bakkui have failed and it is now bombarding Jigu. The government has informed me the shields above Jigu are weakening. They expect total failure within three hundred hours.”
So’wie paused to study the document carefully. Finally, she looked into the camera with a fatalistic expression. “Ensign So’wie, out.” The scene blinked off.
“End of transmission,” George droned.
Carrie stared at the blank viewscreen for several seconds trying to absorb what had just happened. The Commander was gone. It was impossible to believe. His last transmission was an update on their construction work for Moonbase Two and the progress that Ambassador Robertson was making with the new government. He didn’t even mention the Bakkui; just that he hoped to return to Bradley’s Planet within a few weeks.
And now he wasn’t coming. Ever.
Her mind flashed back to one of their last conversations before he left. He reminded her that nothing was certain. “If I don’t come back,” he had said, “never forget you still have a mission. Keep fighting. I have confidence in you.”
At the time, she felt it was just another platitude and had smiled and said thanks. Now, the burden of his words settled heavily on her shoulders. It was one thing to be an interim commander, to stand in for the boss while he was away. But stepping into the role permanently was overwhelming.
A thousand denials and what-ifs sprang to her mind. It took every bit of her mental strength to push the negative thoughts aside. This was not the time for doubts.
Thanks to Zach’s work, they had a new plan. It was a good one. More importantly, implementing it now would keep everyone focused, give them something positive to do rather than brood about their unthinkable losses; first Earth and now the Commander.
Carrie swiveled back to face her staff. Their faces were pale and full of the same denial she was feeling. Most of them were still staring at the empty screen.
“Zach!” she barked, grabbing their attention.
He jerked around and faced her directly. It took him a few seconds to answer. “Ma’am!”
“I am splitting Lulubelle’s forces into two groups as we discussed. You will take sixty percent of the warships and all but one squadron of the fighters. Divide them into the Jigu Battle Group, for offensive maneuvers, and a smaller Bradley Task Force for local system defense.”
“Aye, ma’am!” Zach responded, his eyes wide.
Carrie continued. “Effective immediately, I am promoting you to Rear Admiral. Your orders are to take command of the Jigu Battle Group. Put Rikki Mercado in command of the Bradley Task Force. I’ll keep one squadron of fighters and fifty ground soldiers. Assign all of my remaining ground forces to the governor on a permanent basis to use as he sees fit.”
“Aye, ma’am!” Zach replied, this time with more confidence.
Carrie looked at the young man seated next to Zach. “Mr. Grimes!” Carrie had talked to Zach more than once about Johnny’s future. He was bright, capable and moderately ambitious; it was a good mix of ch
aracter traits. They both felt he had the makings of an excellent ship’s captain.
“Yes, ma’am,” Grimes replied.
“I am promoting myself to admiral and will assume command of the Warlord Battle Group. You are now captain-in-training for command of Lulubelle. Your orders are to prepare Lulubelle for combat. We will depart on schedule for system J99 to engage the Bakkui as they arrive.”
Before Grimes could acknowledge his new orders, Alisha Duncan jumped to her feet and cried out in protest. “You cannot be serious! You’re going to leave now? What if the Bakkui show up? That’s insane!”
There was a collective gasp around the table at the protest.
Carrie noted that although Alisha was the only one to speak up, several other faces reflected the same thoughts. It was disappointing that they quailed so quickly at the reported threat. Everyone in the room had fought successful engagements against the Bakkui in this very system, twice.
This was the wrong time to have a naysayer in their midst. And beyond that, sometimes you needed to set an example.
“Alisha,” Carrie said evenly. “You are relieved of duty.” She looked at the ceiling, a habit she could not break when speaking to George. “George, have security report to the conference room. They will escort Miss Duncan to the surface. Perhaps the governor can use her. Otherwise, she is no longer a member of the Alliance.”
“Acknowledged, Admiral Faulkner.”
The faces that a moment ago had shown doubt in Carrie’s shocking set of orders almost jerked at George’s calm acceptance of her new rank. He had actually called her Admiral Faulkner.
If George bought in to her new rank and her plan to keep fighting the Bakkui, the matter was settled. Any sympathy for Alisha, or doubt about the new admiral’s authority, vanished instantly.
Alisha glared at her former colleagues. “Never mind,” she huffed. “I can find my own way. I’ll just get my things.”
“Restrain her,” Carrie said to no one in particular. Several officers rose to block her path and she subsided immediately.
“Your personal effects will be sent down,” Carrie said simply.
Two soldiers bolted into the room and looked at Carrie for guidance. She nodded casually toward Alisha. “Take Ms. Duncan to the shuttle bay without delay. See that she speaks to no one until she is off Lulubelle. After you transport her to the surface, escort her to the governor’s office.”
Carrie sent a quick message to George.
Brief the governor on Alisha. Tell him I apologize for sending a problem child.
Seconds later the woman was gone and the room was quiet again.
“Any questions, Johnny?” Carrie asked.
“No, Admiral,” Grimes replied firmly. “We’ll be ready.”
Carrie faced her subordinates around the table. They were frightened by the news and needed a pep talk. She had no idea what to say but decided that anything would be better than nothing.
“All of us knew this could happen,” she said. “And none of us thought it would. But the fact that it did will not stop us. Commander Blackburn gave us a vision; to seek out the enemy. To push the Bakkui back into its own space, to find the planet that brought it into existence and to destroy it utterly.
“Zach just briefed us on how this is possible. Our technology is better, our weapons are more devastating, and most of all, our spirit is stronger than any mechanized force.
“Each of you needs to understand that from this point forward nothing has changed. Not. One. Thing. Our mission, the Warlord’s mission, still is and will always be, to fight, to wage war against this despicable opponent, and crush it utterly under our heel. And we will. I promise you…that will happen!”
As she finished, Carrie was standing, leaning over the table and almost shouting her words. She straightened up, a little surprised by her vehemence, and examined the faces looking up to her. A little of the panic she had seen earlier was gone. In its place was an inkling of hope. It wasn’t just wishful thinking; they believed in themselves once again.
“Carry on, Johnny,” she said. “I have to brief the governor.”
Carrie walked out of the conference room and went straight to her quarters where she threw up the knot of fear in her stomach. She vomited until she couldn’t stand up, and then sagged to the floor and rested against the commode She was scared to death that she would never measure up to the Commander’s ideals. After dry heaving for several minutes she had pulled every stomach muscle in her body. She took a quick hot shower, put on a new uniform, and headed for the shuttle bay.
Don’t you dare tell anyone about that, George, she warned. One of the most difficult aspects of command was maintaining an aura of stability when the world was going down the toilet.
Of course, Admiral.
*.*.*.*
“Arriving at Government House,” shuttle Jamie announced. “Governor Lindsey is fishing.”
In a way, that’s a little reassuring, Carrie thought. This time, she did not hurry to meet him. For one thing, she physically wasn’t up to it; her abdominal muscles ached terribly.
George confirmed the governor had received the news from Jigu and been briefed on the changes she had made. She still wanted to see him. When planning new missions, it was comforting just to sit and chat. It had become a bit of a tradition for her.
He was reeling in his fishing line. He often complained that fishing gear had been a sorely overlooked item when it came to populating the replicator database. All it offered was a basic Zebco rod and reel spin caster with a set of plastic wrapped lures.
“Sounds like you had an interesting day,” he said as she approached.
“I’m scared to death, Governor.”
“To be expected. But I agree with your strategy if that’s any comfort.” He cast the line from the dock and then cursed when the line fouled. The lure plopped into the water about twenty feet away. Lindsey held up his rod as though to underscore his thoughts. “Not much comfort to be found these days.”
Carrie took the rod from him and slowly pulled the line out of the reel trying to untangle the knot. She wanted him to say everything was going to work out and the world would once again be a happy place.
Instead, she asked, “Did you see Miss Duncan?”
Lindsey chuckled. “Yes, I did. She was one very scared lady. Sounds like you were a bit harsh on her, but then again, that’s exactly what I would have done. As a subordinate, there are times when you have to keep your mouth shut, and as a boss, there are times you have to make an example of someone. She cleverly managed to squeeze herself into both situations at once. Stupid and unlucky.”
“Can you take care of her?” Carrie asked.
“Of course. I had Sargent Blake take her over to BOQ. I’ll find something for her. You care if I do a little matchmaking?”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Paul Barret, 2nd Battalion CO. He’s looking a bit thin lately. Might do him some good. Don’t worry, I won’t force anything. I’ll assign her something in his area. See what happens.”
“That’s okay with me,” Carrie said. She wasn’t sure who she felt sorry for, Alisha or the capable Paul Barret. Then again, it could turn out to be a perfect match. They both seemed a bit prudish, but sometimes that personality type concealed a scorching smolder underneath.
Carrie spent thirty minutes with the governor, getting his advice on battle strategy, matchmaking, and life in general before broaching the subject she had originally intended to talk with him about.
Some of their longest-range drones, delving into the deepest part of Bakkui space, had returned with unexpected results. Planets in the center of Bakkui territory showed signs of human activity.
“Did you study the reconnaissance reports I gave you?”
“I did,” Lindsey replied. “What do you make of it?”
“I don’t know if it’s reassuring or frightening,” Carrie said.
“A little of both. I wonder if those were population remnants that made a mira
culous comeback or lucky scavengers where the infrastructure had not been obliterated. Either way, the question is, are they setting themselves up to be attacked or are they working with the Bakkui and pushing them our way? Even worse, what if they are the masters behind the Bakkui’s advance? That’s not something I even want to think about.”
Carrie nodded. The same thoughts were preying on her mind. “I know the answer is significant,” she said. “But to come up with any kind of strategy we need more information. I was going to order Deborah to send out more recce drones.”
Lindsey shook his head. “Drones won’t give you that kind of intelligence,” he warned. “For that you need HUMINT, human intelligence. Only one way to get that.”
“Spies?”
Lindsey shook his head again, this time with amusement. “We don’t call them spies, we refer to them as covert operatives; but yeah, spies. People on the ground behind enemy lines. The first question that needs an answer is, are they working for the Bakkui or are the Bakkui working for them?”
“I wouldn’t have any idea who to send,” Carrie admitted. “Just the thought of it sounds like a one-way trip.”
“You should be careful with this,” the governor cautioned. “Guys who volunteer for that type of mission are not who you want. Anyone who thinks it’s cool to rush off on a dangerous assignment is either dumb or unrealistic, or both. Steer clear of a wannabe hero.”
“Who then?” Carrie asked.
“You need someone capable who doesn’t really want to go. The catch is, when you find a guy like that, you normally have about a hundred other positions to stick him into. Zach would be perfect.”
Carrie was shocked at the suggestion. “I can’t lose him!” she said emphatically.
“That’s what I mean. Take your time and give it some thought. And keep studying the reconnaissance data. Maybe something will turn up.”
Carrie leaned against the older man. “Is it going to be okay? I can’t believe what we heard from Jigu.”
“I know. But what I said about the report from Earth applies here just as much. That was the first message in the middle of a battle and Luke is a tough old bird. I’m keeping my fingers crossed.” The governor let out a big sigh. “For now, though, I don’t really feel like fishing today. Let’s wrap this up and get some dinner.”