by Ryk Brown
What troubled her most, this night, was that she was beginning to think her dreams were right.
“Got one for me?” a familiar male voice called from the kitchen door.
Jessica reached down to the bucket of ice sitting on the patio next to her, pulled out a bottle of beer, and held it up for him, without looking back at her older brother.
“That’s all the greeting I get?” Robert asked.
“It hasn’t been that long, Robert,” Jessica replied, taking another sip from her bottle.
“Forty-one, forty-two, days?” Robert opened his bottle and took a long drink. “Ahh. We don’t have this on board the Tanna, that’s for sure.” He looked at the bottle, not recognizing the label. “Where do you get this?”
“It’s brewed locally,” Jessica replied as she continued to watch the sunset. The big, orange sun was halfway into the ocean.
“I didn’t know they brewed beer on Porto Santo.”
“The island is full of scrub marines now. It was only a matter of time.” Jessica took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “You know, when I was little, I used to wake up early and sneak out before sunrise. I’d walk down the street to the beach, and watch the sun slowly rise up out of the water. I always thought that if the waves wouldn’t make so much noise, I might be able to hear the water boiling around the sun as it rose up out of the ocean. It was magical.”
“Everything is magical when you’re young.”
Jessica took another drink of her beer. “You come to tell me to let go as well?”
“Nope. I learned long ago that it was a waste of time trying to tell you what to do, Jess.”
“So, Telles or Dumar didn’t send you?”
“We’re getting resupplied,” Robert told her. “We’ll be in orbit for a few days, then we’re going back to Tau Ceti to have some additional plasma turrets installed.”
“So, you haven’t heard how I’ve been beatin’ up trainees?”
“Oh, I’ve heard all right. I just wasn’t planning on bringing it up.” Robert took another sip of beer. “But, since you brought it up…”
“Relax, they can take it,” Jessica assured him, also taking another swig off her bottle. “If they can’t, they don’t belong in spec-ops.”
“I expect you would know.”
Jessica finally turned to look at her brother.
“I just mean, I imagine you ran afoul of a few instructors during your time in the academy.”
“I was a perfect cadet,” she said defensively.
“Right.”
They sat in silence for several minutes, downing another round as they watched the sun disappear completely into the ocean. After a few more minutes of sitting in the darkness, Jessica finally spoke.
“I’m thinking about resigning,” she said in hushed tones.
Robert said nothing.
Jessica turned and looked at him again. “Aren’t you going to ask why?”
“I figured you’d tell me if you wanted me to know, whether I asked or not.”
Jessica sat silently in the darkness for a few more minutes before speaking again. “I’ve lost the desire. My heart’s just not in it, anymore.”
Robert could tell by his little sister’s tone that she was upset by that fact. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Jess. You did more for the people of Earth…hell, for people from all over the galaxy, than most people do in a lifetime of service. I doubt anyone would speak ill of you if you quit.” Robert downed the last of his beer. “Especially since you’d kick their ass if they did.”
Jessica said nothing, only sighed.
Robert rose from his seat, placing the empty bottle on the patio rail. “Just do us both a favor, Jess. Think about it for a while. All things change with time. This one may, as well.”
She looked at him again. “I don’t think so, Robert.”
Robert reached down and pulled the last bottle out of the ice bucket, opened it, and handed it to his sister. “Give it another week…for me.”
Jessica sighed again as her brother went back into the house, then started to work on the last bottle for the night.
* * *
It had been nearly two weeks since Nathan had been formally charged in the Jung courts. Two weeks of poor sleep, lousy food, and endless interrogations by, not only Jung intelligence, but also the prosecution. It seemed odd to him that today was the first time he had seen his own advocate since his first appearance in the Jung Hall of Justice.
Mister Gorus sat quietly across the table from Nathan, studying the documents on his data pad. His face was expressionless, his only tell being the occasional rubbing of his chin, although Nathan had no idea what it was telling of.
“So,” Nathan finally began, “am I screwed?”
Mister Gorus looked puzzled. “Screwed?”
“Screwed…as in ‘big trouble, with no way out.’”
“I see. Then yes, you are indeed screwed.” Mister Gorus set his data pad down. “Of course, you have been since the moment you surrendered.”
Nathan sighed. “I don’t get it. Your own people, time and again, have taken the position that they were just following orders, expecting to receive absolution because of it. Yet I am not to be given that same dispensation?”
“Are you saying that one of your superiors ordered you to fire on Nor-Patri?” Mister Gorus inquired, his demeanor remaining calm.
“My orders were to do whatever was necessary to show the Jung leadership that the Alliance could quite easily attack them right where they live.”
“To what end?”
“In the hopes that the Jung people would insist on the withdrawal of Jung forces from the Sol sector. You see, human history is replete with examples of civilian populations that supported the use of military force to ensure their national interests, when such actions took place on foreign lands, but failed to support those actions when they resulted in attacks on their own lands.”
“I’m afraid your plan backfired,” Mister Gorus said. “If anything, it made those castes who do not support expansion, especially when it involves the use of military force, mute for fear of retaliation by the other castes. Your attack galvanized the castes, as well as the general population thereof. Everyone on Nor-Patri wishes to see the Earth destroyed. It is actually quite surprising that they are willing to settle for your public execution alone. Were it not for the influence of the anti-expansionist castes, every ship in the fleet would be on its way to Earth this very moment.”
“Which would result in the immediate destruction of Nor-Patri, as well as many other Jung-occupied worlds in the Jung sector,” Nathan reminded him.
“Such statements will not gain you sympathy among the arbiters,” Mister Gorus warned. “They do not care for ultimatums.”
“Odd, since your people seem so fond of issuing them, as well as carrying out the penalty when those ultimatums are ignored,” Nathan added thoughtfully.
“I ask again,” Mister Gorus said, remaining calm, and ignoring Nathan’s statements. “Did any of your superiors order you to launch a kinetic energy weapon against Nor-Patri?”
“No, they did not,” Nathan replied. “But I did not launch the weapon against Nor-Patri. I launched it against Zhu-Anok.”
“Were you not required to study basic physics at the EDF Academy?”
“Of course.”
“Then you were aware that, given the proximity, a strike of such magnitude against Zhu-Anok represented a significant threat to Nor-Patri as well, were you not?”
“Yes, I was aware of the risk. However, the trajectory of the weapon should have sent the debris field away from Nor-Patri, not toward it. It was the detonation of the reactors deep inside Zhu-Anok that sent debris on a collision course with your world, not the impact of our kinetic k
ill vehicle.”
“You were not aware that there were reactors within Zhu-Anok? Where did you think the power that ran the facility was coming from?”
“Of course I knew there had to be a power source on that moon. But I had no way of knowing the amount of energy contained within, nor the pattern of release when our weapon struck.”
“Yet, you still gave the order to launch the weapon.”
“Yes, I did,” Nathan admitted, realizing that the statement would be the final nail in his coffin.
Mister Gorus leaned back in his chair a moment, thinking. “My best advice, Captain Scott, is to stand tall and take full responsibility for your actions.”
“You want me to admit that I’m guilty?”
“Yes, I do.”
“I brought no more destruction upon your world, than your people did upon mine. Definitely not as much as your people brought upon Tanna.”
“Irrelevant.”
“How is that irrelevant?” Nathan demanded in exasperation.
“It is the Jung way. The strong take from the weak. The fact that we offer the weak an opportunity to live, under Jung rule, is in itself an act of mercy. We are not responsible if the population of a world chooses death over life under Jung rule. It is their choice.”
Nathan shook his head. “That is the most twisted logic I have ever heard.”
“Perhaps, from your perspective, it is. But not from ours.”
“And you agree with this philosophy?”
“What I, or any other person believes is also irrelevant,” Mister Gorus dismissed.
“Governments are supposed to be representative of the wishes of the people they govern,” Nathan said.
Mister Gorus placed his hands together on the table. “Over the centuries, the Jung came to realize that the people, of which you speak, only cared about two things. Survival, and sustenance. As long as those two basic needs are met, they are willing to accept that many atrocities are necessary to ensure the ongoing provision of those two basic necessities.”
“History is also replete with examples of empires with similar philosophies, all of which fell either under their own weight, or at the hands of a disenfranchised population.”
“Earth history, perhaps,” Mister Gorus responded.
“Human history, Mister Gorus.” Nathan looked the old advocate squarely in the eyes. “Someday, the Jung Empire will fall.”
“Perhaps,” Mister Gorus admitted. “However, I doubt that either of us will be around to witness its demise.”
* * *
Jessica followed the Ghatazhak corporal down the dimly lit corridor. “I’m not familiar with this building,” she said. “What did you say it was called?”
“I didn’t, sir,” the corporal replied. Like every other Ghatazhak she had ever dealt with, the man revealed only what was required of him.
Jessica glanced at the signs on the doors on either side of the corridor. They showed only numbers. She also noticed that the doors were not the usual composite construction. They all had sealing frames, like the ones in the interrogation rooms over in the base detention center. She remembered similar door frames back at the fleet academy where she had trained. They had been used to seal off soundproof rooms, where covert methodologies had been taught to spec-ops cadets. While it was not surprising that such facilities existed here on Porto Santo, she was curious why she had been brought into such a building.
“Where are we going?” Jessica asked.
“The commander requested that I bring you to see him,” the corporal replied.
“You already told me that,” Jessica said.
“I’m sorry, sir. That is all that I am authorized to tell you.”
Jessica rolled her eyes.
The Ghatazhak corporal finally stopped, opening up one of the doors and taking up a guard position outside of it. “Sir,” the corporal said, nodding toward the open door.
Her left eyebrow went up as she looked at the corporal and entered the room. As soon as she stepped inside, the corporal reached in and pulled the door closed behind her, locking it.
Sitting on the edge of the conference table in front of her was Commander Telles, his usual unreadable expression adorning his face. He said nothing, waiting until he received confirmation over his comm-set that the room had been sealed and their conversation would be truly private. “Lieutenant Commander,” he finally acknowledged, nodding.
“You wanted to see me, sir?”
Commander Telles could tell how difficult it was for her to use the word. These days, it seemed that everything about wearing the uniform was difficult for her. And he was not the only one who had noticed it. His right-hand man, Master Sergeant Jahal had commented on her struggles as well. “Yes.”
“In a secure room?”
“It seemed appropriate,” the commander replied, “considering the topics we have to discuss.”
“Why is it I don’t like the sound of that,” Jessica commented dryly.
“Please, sit,” the commander insisted, pointing to a nearby chair.
Jessica looked at him for a moment.
“Please, Jessica.”
The commander was not one to use first names, which made Jessica even more suspicious. Finally, she grabbed the chair and pulled it over, taking a seat. “What’s this about?”
“Your demeanor as of late has been, shall we say, less enthusiastic than we had hoped.”
“Enthusiastic?” Jessica almost laughed. “You’re asking a bit much, don’t you think?”
“No, I don’t,” the commander replied.
Jessica looked the commander square in the eyes. “I do my job,” she said coldly.
“Yes,” the commander agreed. “But your heart is not in your work.”
“My heart? I didn’t ask for this assignment, you know.”
“I am aware of that fact. Nevertheless, something must change.”
“Why? If I’m doing my job…”
“If you continue in this fashion, your anger will eventually be your undoing,” the commander said.
Jessica stared at him. “You don’t know anything about my anger,” she scowled.
“Your response proves my point. If you do not take steps to resolve the conflicts within you…”
Jessica stood suddenly. “My only conflict is with this damned alliance. What kind of an alliance lets its founder rot in an enemy prison?”
“Jess…”
“Nathan saved us all. Corinair, Takara, Earth…the core worlds. If it wasn’t for Nathan, the Jung would control this entire sector, and you’d still be killing innocent people in the name of Caius Ta’Akar!”
“No one is disputing this,” the commander reminded her.
“But no one is lifting a finger to save him, are they! Not the Alliance, not you, not even his own father,” she added, throwing up her arms, turning away and kicking her chair over.
“This is exactly the kind of behavior that concerns me.”
“What the hell do you want me to do?” she cried out. “It’s all I can do to put this damned uniform on each morning! If it wasn’t for Ania…”
“Exactly,” the commander said. “For Ania. For that little girl, I want you to face your own shortcomings. I want you to overcome them. To become better than you ever thought you could be.”
Jessica shook her head, confused. “What are you talking about?” she asked, tears welling up in her eyes.
“You have so much potential, Jessica,” the commander said. “More than any non-Ghatazhak I have ever seen. If you could only get some control over your emotions—develop your mental, as well as your physical abilities—you could be so much more.”
“How?”
“Train with us. Become one of us.”
/> “One of you?” Jessica shook her head again. “You want me to become a Ghatazhak?”
“It is the only way you will reach your true potential.”
“But…”
“I know. There are no women in the Ghatazhak. Times change, and the Ghatazhak must change with them.”
“I was going to say you’re all the same size, and I’m not.”
“Yes, there is that, as well. Regardless, I believe that becoming a Ghatazhak is the only way. But it will require you to resign from the Alliance.”
“Why? You’re part of the Alliance.”
“We don’t plan to remain a part of it. A year at the most. Once we have trained enough marines, we will go our separate ways.”
“Where will you go?”
“We will find a world back in the Takaran sector. A world where we can continue to train, continue to prepare.”
“Prepare for what?” Jessica wondered.
“The need for the Ghatazhak will arise from time to time. Conflict is the nature of humanity. When such conflicts arise, and grow beyond the capabilities of most men—and women—we will be ready. But we will decide who is deserving of our sacrifices, instead of being told to whom we must remain loyal.”
Jessica was still confused. “I still don’t understand why I have to resign from the Alliance. At least not right away. You said a year, right?”
“You are a good soldier,” the commander said. “Despite your unpredictability, your lack of self-discipline… Despite all of these things, you still follow orders. That is why I need you to resign.”
“I’m not following your logic, here, Telles.”