Allrest now looked like a frightened animal in a spotlight. “I have simply performed the analysis required of me, Senator. I don’t dictate strategy or policy to Starfleet.”
“Let me ask it a different way,” Wilcox said. “At any time, did Starfleet R&D or Science Section ask you to develop a plan for first contact?”
“No.”
“Is it possible that this war is simply a misunderstanding? That a single destroyer captain of questionable character may have put our two species on a collision course with a shoot-first-ask-questions-never attitude?” Wilcox was now obviously playing to the room, barely even looking at the doctor.
“I respectfully refuse to answer the question,” Allrest said. “The entire line of inquiry is speculation and, as I understood it, I was asked here to speak on technical matters.”
“Of course, of course.” Wilcox smirked to the delegation from Britannia.
Jackson clenched the armrests of his seat so hard his skin squeaked against the varnished wood.
“Relax, Captain,” Pitt whispered, leaning over. “We were expecting this. We’re going to return fire. Don’t worry.”
Jackson nodded and forced himself to look relaxed and unconcerned as he again became painfully aware that the news cameras in the room were likely focused on him during that last line of questioning.
Wilcox grilled Allrest for another thirty minutes, nearly all of the questions having nothing to do with scientific fact and everything to do with CENTCOM’s response to the threat. More specifically, the questions were just a pretense for the senator to grandstand and insinuate that Starfleet was little more than a rogue military agency out on the Frontier starting wars for their own benefit.
Mercifully, the inquisition ended after a few halfhearted questions from two other senators, and a visibly shaken Dr. Allrest was led away from the table. A brief recess was called, and the table was set up for the next person to give their testimony.
Pitt grabbed Jackson’s shoulder and pushed him back down when he tried to stand. “The press is circling like sharks out there. I’ll grab you a water, but you stay put.”
“Yes, sir.” Jackson sat back down and ignored some openly hostile looks he was getting.
Senator Wilcox hadn’t mentioned him by name, but there was little doubt in anyone’s mind to whom he was referring when he accused some “Fleet hothead” of launching an unprovoked attack. The hell of it was that technically, Wilcox was right. Jackson had opened fire with the Blue Jacket’s forward laser battery before the Alpha had melted them off the prow with a single plasma burst.
As far as he was concerned, that was all a legal technicality since he’d encountered two lifeless planets that used to host human colonies before he’d finally caught up to the big son of a bitch. But, governments tended to be quite enamored with legal technicalities when they served a purpose. Not for the first time, he wished he was back on the bridge of the Ares.
“The Chair welcomes Central Command Chief of Staff, Fleet Admiral Joseph Marcum.” Wilcox’s tone left little doubt as to the senator’s opinion of the Fleet officer.
“Senator.” Marcum nodded to Wilcox. “Esteemed delegates.”
“Admiral, you heard the testimony from Dr. Allrest, did you not?”
“I did.” Marcum leaned forward slightly, looking completely within his element.
“I’ll get right to the point, Admiral,” Wilcox said. “Many within this body have become concerned recently that Starfleet has dragged humanity into a war with another species by mistake. Some are even questioning the motivations of CENTCOM, given that the projected budget analysis begins phasing out a militarized Starfleet within the next twenty years.”
“What, exactly, are you implying, Senator?” Marcum asked.
“Do I need to spell it out for you, Admiral?”
“I think, for the sake of the official record, that it would be best if you did, sir,” Marcum said.
“I am giving voice to the concern that CENTCOM has taken a convenient opportunity to justify the existence of a bloated bureaucracy that supports an unneeded and generally unwanted fleet of sinfully expensive warships and their crews,” Wilcox said. “With this war coming when it has—a war that hasn’t threatened us in the nearly four years it’s been going on, I might add—Haven and Tsuyo Corporation are now fully justified it maintaining the status quo and withholding technology and intelligence from the other Terran enclaves—”
“Objection!”
“The Senator from Haven does not have the floor!” Wilcox said loudly. “Admiral… would you care to address these allegations?”
Jackson knew politics at least well enough to realize he was watching a performance. Wilcox wasn’t actually addressing Marcum, he was playing to the cameras and making sure his outrageous charges were implanted in the public consciousness regardless of their validity or even if he actually believed them. If Marcum couldn’t answer with a definitively negative response, no matter how absurd the accusation, it would be spun to the people of New America as a sort of admission of guilt.
“The charges are fairly ridiculous,” Marcum said thoughtfully. “But I will, of course, provide an answer to the assembly to the best of my ability.”
“We look forward to your answer,” Wilcox said.
Marcum waved his aide forward and whispered instructions into his ear, holding the mute button on his microphone as he did.
“If you’ll indulge me, Senator, I’ve prepared a presentation in anticipation of this line of questioning.” Marcum stood up from the table. “Please be aware that the imagery you’re about to see will be highly disturbing. This will be the first time they’ve been declassified in order to show the general public. Even for members of the Senate Intelligence Subcommittee, a lot of these will be new as we’ve just received the intel ourselves.”
“Please get to the point, Admiral.” Wilcox looked annoyed now that Marcum had taken the initiative.
“Steward, please activate the chamber screens.” Marcum ignored Wilcox. “Ladies and gentleman, members of the press… I’m about to show you a brief compilation of imagery collected during our engagements with the Phage. I will provide pertinent facts to accompany the imagery, and we’ll be reviewing these in chronological order. If I may, I’d ask that you reserve all questions until I’ve completed the presentation.”
Over the next ninety minutes, there were gasps of shock and cries of outrage as images of the Phage’s path of destruction were paraded on the screens. Marcum calmly narrated the events as they unfolded, culminating in the footage of the new super weapon destroying what was left of Xi’an. Those same cries of outrage were then tinged with fear as the war finally hit home for the people who had looked at it as a “Frontier problem” for the previous few years.
When the footage from Pike’s Broadhead of Jackson driving the Blue Jacket into the first Alpha unit played, and Marcum explained that he alone had remained on the ship to finish off the threat, the looks cast in his direction were no longer angry, but awed. Jackson simply felt ill as he again watched his old ship in her final, glorious moments.
“As you can see, the threat is very real, and it was brought to us by an inexplicable, terrible enemy,” Marcum said. “Despite the insinuations to the contrary, we did not ask for this war, nor are we particularly excited to fight it… but what we want is irrelevant right now. Thank you.” Without waiting to be dismissed, Marcum turned and walked away from the table as the lights came back up and showed a bewildered Senator Wilcox standing at the podium, gripping the gavel in both hands.
“These proceedings are adjourned for the day,” he said when he noticed that everyone was staring at him. “We will reconvene tomorrow.”
****
“Look at Wilcox… I’ve never seen someone so pissed.” Admiral Pitt laughed quietly as they all took their seats again the next morning.
Jackson looked over at Senator Wellington. The man was positively seething. The previous night, the news coverage had
not been kind to the senator from New America as Marcum’s surprise presentation had pulled the rug right out from under him. Wilcox still had the floor from the previous day, so he slowly climbed the dais, watching impassively as delegates and media reporters slowly filed in.
Jackson had stayed in the capital the night before, having been met by the party of observers from Earth and begged to come and speak to the rest of their group. After dinner, he’d even been convinced to record a few interviews to be aired on Earth’s various news outlets. As the evening had worn on. he’d become exceedingly uncomfortable with the adoration and lavish praise his fellow Earthers heaped upon him. At the best of times, Jackson considered himself a victim of circumstances. At worst, he felt little more than a fraud who had gotten exceedingly lucky with an impossible gamble that still ended up getting a sizable number of his crew killed.
“The assembly will now come to order!” Wilcox’s booming voice shook Jackson out of his reverie as it echoed throughout the domed chamber. The delegates’ private conversations tapered off, and they looked on with interest. Wilcox had been embarrassed badly the day before, and there were more than a few friendly wagers as to how he would respond.
“What I have to say today will not take long. After much deliberation, and with the authority vested in me by the New American regional government, I officially withdraw our support from the Confederacy in the war with the species known as the Phage.”
The chamber erupted in loud, chaotic conversation as Wilcox stood passively, letting his words sink in.
“Furthermore,” he continued once they’d settled down, “as per conditions set forth in article six, sections two and three of the Unified Defense Accords, we are not only withholding financial and material support, we are recalling all Fourth Fleet ships to enforce our own boundary defense. As such, those ships are now withdrawn from Central Command’s authority and cannot be utilized for their war effort.”
Now the room exploded in angry shouts and curses hurled at the Senator who, for his part, gave the oddly impassive Admiral Marcum a tight lipped smile.
“Let’s go.” Marcum stood suddenly, sending his aides scrambling to collect his haphazardly scattered belongings. Jackson, Pitt, and a handful of junior officers followed Marcum out as he bulldozed his way through the pack of jostling reporters squawking for a reaction or a quote. Marcum wouldn’t be deterred, however, and didn’t slow his pace until he was climbing into the air shuttle that had begun to start its engines at the sight of the storming chief of staff.
“The fix was in,” Pitt said to Jackson as the shuttle’s engines spooled up and hauled them into the air. “Wilcox had already been told to withdraw their support no matter how the proceedings yesterday had gone. He wasn’t even making a good show of it… even the new generation com drones can’t get to Columbiana and back to Haven in a single day.”
“I just don’t understand the motivation or the politics behind this move.” Jackson’s stomach tied in knots as he realized the mighty Fourth Fleet battle cruisers were now out of the fight.
“There’s a lot you’ve likely missed being on a starship for so many years, Captain.” Marcum seemed to have calmed down a bit as they flew back to his residence. “For over a decade, Haven has had a harder and harder time trying to keep the enclaves from splintering off into their own sovereign states. The only thing holding them back is the fact Tsuyo Corporate is still here, and they know if they want to be included in the distribution of newly released technology, they need to come and kiss the ring.”
“Rather blunt, but essentially correct,” Admiral Pitt said. “There’s been a lot of resentment simmering under the surface for many years over Haven acting as the gatekeeper to Tsuyo R&D. They’ve all tried to duplicate and improve upon the tech, but without a starting point, it’s been a futile effort, and none have been brazen enough to try dismantling one of their own ships for fear of taking that final step and incurring the wrath of the Tsuyo board.”
“I suppose this was all just harmless gamesmanship before Xi’an.” Jackson stared out the window.
“Indeed,” Pitt said. “But for right now, we’ve still got work to do. Captain, I want you to task three ships from Ninth Squadron to begin deploying intel drones across the Frontier systems. Preferably the three ships that still have captains.”
“Yes, sir,” Jackson said crisply, thankful to be back in the realm he knew. “The Ninth arrived in orbit over Haven yesterday.”
“Have you given any thought to who should take command of the Icarus?”
“I wasn’t aware my input was requested, sir,” Jackson said.
“You’re technically in command of the Ninth,” Pitt said. “Normally, command of a starship is subject to a specific approval process, involving the Senate, but given the circumstances, I think we need to take matters into our own hands. How about Captain Lee?”
“The CO of the Brooklands?” Jackson hesitated. He wasn’t sure if he was expected to just agree with his superior’s recommendation or if his opinion was actually wanted.
“Spit it out, Wolfe,” Marcum snapped. “If there’s a reason you don’t like Lee for the position, speak up.”
“Captain Lee is a fine CO and accorded himself very well during the second battle of Xi’an,” Jackson said, “but the Brooklands is a missile cruiser. Lee deserves some recognition, but he isn’t a destroyer man. I’m not sure right now is the best time to let him sink or swim on the bridge of the newest class of warship.”
“Noted,” Pitt said with a nod. “I assume you already have someone in mind?”
****
“Absolutely not, sir!”
“I may have given the impression I was asking, Commander.” Jackson leaned back in his chair, secretly enjoying the moment. “This was not a request.”
“Captain, I thought I’d been clear when I said I didn’t feel I was ready,” Celesta Wright said emphatically.
Jackson had called her into his office the moment he’d been ferried back up to Jericho Station and made his way back to the Ares. He’d already gotten the necessary approvals from Black Fleet’s command authority, and he wanted to get Celesta into the Icarus and underway before anyone had a chance to hold up her transfer and put their second cousin’s roommate, whom they owed a favor, in the chair.
“Commander… Celesta, you are ready for this,” Jackson said firmly. “If it makes you feel any better, this is a provisional posting. You’ll retain your current rank, and if the Icarus makes it back in one piece then, there will be a formal review board.”
“I’m not sure I’m entirely comfortable with the gallows humor just now, sir,” Celesta said, stood to pace the length of the office.
“Not a whole lot is changing,” Jackson said. “You’ll still be in the formation and taking orders from me, but you’ll be doing it from the bridge of your own ship. This has been your goal since you first stepped foot on the Blue Jacket, and now you’re being handed one of the most advanced starships in the fleet.”
“Stepping on a lot of toes in the process, I’m sure.” Celesta fell back into her chair.
“Not especially.” Jackson shook his head. “Captain Levitt and his XO were both yanked off the ship as soon as she entered orbit over Haven. You’ll have a full commander for a chief engineer, but you’ll outrank everyone on the command staff. Not to mention the respect you’ve earned within the squadron for your role during the initial incursion.”
“Who will be taking my place here?” she asked, signaling for the first time in the conversation that she understood she would be departing for the Icarus.
“The obvious choice.” Jackson shrugged. “I’m moving Davis to XO, acting only since her current rank will require an exemption for that posting. The good news there is that she can still perform her job at OPS when we go to general quarters.”
“I’m not sure I like what that says about my usefulness aboard the Ares, sir.”
“You know what I mean, Commander.” Jackson waved her off.
“When we’re at battle stations, the two of us are more of a redundancy on the bridge.”
“I suppose the next obvious question is when do I report for duty?” Celesta clenched and unclenched her hands in an unconscious gesture Jackson recognized as meaning she was anxious.
“The Icarus is being towed into dock as we speak.” Jackson smiled. “We’ll be performing the change of command ceremony as soon as the airlock opens.”
Chapter 10
“Incoming message from the Ares, si—ma’am,” the com officer said.
“Send it to my station, Lieutenant Sieffert.”
The message icon on Celesta’s display lit up. It was the fourth day of her new command, and she felt like she was settling in nicely. The crew didn’t seem too shaken up over the change of command, and she’d taken the time to try and get to know as many as possible.
As soon as she took command, CENTCOM ordered the Ares and Icarus out of the docks, and ever since, then they’d been circling Haven in an extremely high orbit to stay out of the way of the constant traffic to and from the mammoth station.
Captain Wright,
Standby for an intel package coming up from Admiral Pitt’s office. Our orders will be included in the transmission. I’ve not been given any indication as to what assignments may be coming to us or if we’re even flying out together. Execute your orders without any confirmation from me, no matter how unusual they may sound. Good luck.
Senior Captain Wolfe
CO, TCS Ares
“Ma’am, another transmission incoming. This one is a fairly large data packet,” Lieutenant Sieffert said. “It’s marked as classified, your eyes only.”
“Very good, Lieutenant,” Celesta stood. “Send it to the terminal in my office.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
After the theatrics that had been played out in the Senate in the weeks prior, she’d been expecting orders to mobilize for the last two days. Three of the five Ninth Squadron ships had already departed the system, the flight under the command of Captain Forrest. She’d reached out to Celesta to congratulate her on the posting just before the Artemis’s beacon vanished as the ship transitioned to warp.
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