“Because being in space for weeks on end is fun,” Michelle teased. “No, thank you. I prefer keeping my legs planted on New Washington firma.”
“Uh-huh.”
By the time Justin polished off his food, both his wife and his daughter had finished their meal. He leaned back in his chair and stretched, yawning. “I think it’s time we get a move on.”
“You two go ahead, and I’ll catch up,” Michelle replied. “I’ve got a quick errand to run.”
Justin nodded. “Sounds like a plan. Maggie, you ready?”
“Ready, Daddy!” she shouted at the top of her lungs, flying off the chair, and ran so fast to the front door that she was almost a blur.
“I think that’s my cue.” Justin stood and kissed his wife on the top of her hair. “See you later, baby.”
Michelle smiled in a way that always made his heart melt. “I love you.”
He turned and grinned. “Love you too.”
With that, Justin made his way to the front door, which Maggie had thrown open. She was running toward one of the two helicars parked in front of their home.
Shaking his head with a smile, he walked to his vehicle and opened it by scanning his handprint. “Okay, munchkin. In the back you go, and fasten your seatbelt.”
Maggie opened the door and climbed in. The helicar sensors flagged her size and weight, and the integrated child-protection system came out from the back of the seat and locked into place an arm on each side of her. “When can I sit up front with you?”
She asked that question every time they took a ride together. “You’ve got a few years, dear. It’s safer for you in the back.”
While most Terran Coalition citizens would engage the autopilot and allow the automated planetary-flight-control system to fly their helicar, Justin preferred manual mode. He had to accept responsibility for any accidents through several pop-up screens in the vehicle's steering system, and once he had, he powered up the throttle. The helicar shot up into the sky, and he engaged maximum thrust to skim over the trees at two hundred kilometers per hour. It only took five minutes, including landing time, to get to the park. Once they arrived, he parked near the main entrance and got out, touching a button to allow Maggie to exit as he did.
She bounded out and jumped on the ground. “Daddy, pick me up!”
One of her seemingly favorite activities was to ride on Justin’s shoulders and see the world from two meters up. With a grin, he reached down and slung her on top of him. “Hold on tight, now.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
With Maggie holding on to his head, Justin walked through the tall, genetically engineered pines. They had been grown from seeds brought from Earth and adapted to the slight environmental differences of the planet’s soil. Through a freak of genetic splicing, they had purple needles instead of the usual dark green. They were a thing of beauty and what made the park unique.
Maggie reached out and grabbed a branch as they walked by, pulling some needles off. “Here, Daddy. Take one of these with you for luck,” she said, handing a needle down to him.
He took the offered leaf and put it in his pocket. “I’ll put it in the cockpit of my Sabre.”
“Will you take me for a ride one day so that I can see space too?”
“Someday, we’ll do a family trip together… but this next trip is my last one in the CDF.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ll have completed what I promised I would, Maggie.”
“You don’t want to keep flying? Mommy said you love flying through asteroid fields and acting like a hot dog.”
Justin laughed and set her down. They’d reached the hill she wanted to slide down. “I think she was saying I like to hotdog my fighter, and she’s right. There’s nothing like pulling turns around rocks, dodging ring particles, and putting on a show. One of these days, I’ll rent a shuttle and take us up into the Oort cloud around our solar system.”
“When I grow up, I want to be a pilot just like you!” Maggie exclaimed then grabbed one of the makeshift hard-plastic sleds at the bottom of the hill and took off to the top. When she got there, she hopped onto the device and flung herself down the grass, going faster and faster until it spun out at the bottom. “That was so much fun! Do it with me, Daddy! Please, please, please!”
“Okay, Maggie.” Justin flashed a smile and started climbing up the hill.
She ran, quickly outdistancing him, and he playfully made a show of running faster to keep up. Then Justin lost his footing, and down he went, rolling over and over until he came to rest at the bottom of the slope. He looked up to see Michelle standing over him.
“I leave you for fifteen minutes, and you cake your clothes in mud?” she asked. She made a show of shaking her head. “Oh, come on, you two. We’re going home to get cleaned up.”
Maggie ran into his arms, and he lifted her back onto his shoulders. “Okay. But we’re stopping for ice cream first.”
“Yay!” Maggie shouted.
Michelle just rolled her eyes and walked away.
As she did, Justin felt thankful that he was about to have his last time away from them. When Maggie was born, he’d made the choice to get out after two years of active service, as the possibility of his dying in the line of duty always crept up on him prior to deployments. Life as a midlevel product manager for a software company might be boring, but at least he would come home to his family safe and sound every night. Children. Michelle wants a small army of them. He grinned at the thought and kept walking behind her.
* * *
Tears streamed down Justin’s face at the memory of Maggie riding on his shoulders in the park. More than anything, he longed to hold her and his wife in his arms and tell them everything would be okay and that he would be home soon. But as there was no way to accomplish that goal, he instead tried to force himself to go to sleep. Hopefully, when he woke, the war would be over. Regardless, perhaps he would be rested and ready to fight again.
5
Deep Space
Terran Coalition Inner Core
28 September 2433
Justin barely slept, if the on-again, off-again thirty-minute naps between staring at the top of his bunk could be called sleep. An hour before he was supposed to report to the squadron ready room, Justin finally roused himself from the bed. He took a quick space shower comprising thirty seconds of water followed by lathering from head to toe with soap and another two minutes of water to rinse—barely enough to beat him back into the land of full alertness.
When Justin stumbled through the hatch to the Red Tails squadron ready room, he found several pilots already there. He mumbled a hello, helped himself to a large mug of black coffee, and sat in a chair. The room was arranged like a small theater, with one exception—every chair in the place was leather, and they were extra comfortable. Makes sense. We sit here for hours, waiting for something to happen.
“Hey,” Feldstein said as she glanced up from a tablet she had been studying intently. “Didn’t hear you come in. You look like crap.”
“Good morning to you, too, Dvora,” Justin replied with a crooked grin. “I couldn’t sleep.”
“It was hard to nod off. I’ll give you that.” She set the tablet down next to her. “What’d you do instead?”
“Tried to vidlink my wife. No dice, thanks to the comms blackout. I eventually got two hours, maybe.” Justin took a sip of the hot coffee and burned his throat. “Aaagh.”
The enormity of the events going on around him was overwhelming. So much for wondering what the defining moment of my life will be. A week ago, he was just another cog in the massive wheel of the Terran Coalition, with a regular civilian job and a small family. Now, I’m at the sharp tip of the spear.
Major Whatley striding through the hatch ended the conversation.
Justin sprang to his feet along with the rest of those present and came to attention.
“As you were,” Whatley said as he walked toward the podium directly in front of the large screen at t
he front of the room. He synched his tablet with the interface and turned toward the group of pilots. “Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to start by congratulating you on being members of a rare breed: space-combat command pilots who’ve seen actual combat. The entire squadron acquitted itself well. And for that, I commend you.” He cleared his throat. “Now, on to business. We’re two jumps out from Canaan. Communications have improved to the point that we know who we’re fighting: the League of Sol.”
“The league of what?” Mateus interjected. “That sounds like a cult or something.”
Laughter erupted from the other pilots.
Whatley held up his hand. Not a trace of mirth was on his face. “Earth.”
The laughter stopped as quickly as it had started.
“From what the Coalition Intelligence Service can tell, we’re facing humans from Earth. Details are naturally limited, but it would appear that the World Society survived after the rest of us left.”
Justin and Feldstein exchanged glances. He was stunned. Vague bits of history came back to him from high school. Our ancestors escaped Earth over three hundred fifty years ago from communist oppression. Why now? Anger overcame him. With so many habitable planets in the Orion spur, why attack us here? They don’t need the space.
“The why doesn’t concern me. The only thing that does is defeating this enemy.” Whatley touched his tablet, and the 3-D holoprojector came to life, showing a detailed view of the Canaan system with its moons, orbital space installations, and CDF assets. “The fleet has rallied. The enemy outnumbers us five to one.”
Gasps filled the room.
“Oh goody, a target-rich environment,” Mateus said to raucous laughter.
“Lieutenant, be careful what you wish for,” Whatley replied in his gravelly tone. “Though I appreciate the sentiment.” He scanned the room. “The Red Tails will be on ready five, starting in one hour at our next jump. Get a bite to eat, handle your biobusiness, and get strapped in. I’d strongly recommend taking a ration bar with you for the hours of boredom before all hell breaks loose. Consider it a tip from a professional.” He paused for a moment. “Any questions, pilots?”
Silence greeted him.
“Dismissed and Godspeed.”
Everyone sprang up from their chairs and made a beeline for the hatch.
As Justin got down to the first row, Whatley held up his hand. “A word in private, Lieutenant Spencer.”
Justin stepped to one side. Uh-oh. “Of course, sir.”
The hatch closed behind Feldstein, and they were alone.
As Whatley stared at Justin, he had a feeling that Whatley was sizing him up. The major had quite the reputation as an old-school soldier with a gruff and demanding demeanor.
Finally, Whatley spoke. “I’m allowing you to remain in nominal command of the Red Tails. I don’t enjoy having a reservist as my lead fighter pilot, but”—he shrugged—“I have no other choice.”
Justin stiffened and grimaced. “With respect, sir, I did my duty, and Alpha element held its own.”
“You more than held your own. But it doesn’t change that you’re not a career pilot, and as far as I’m concerned, you didn’t join for the right reasons.”
“Sir?”
Whatley smirked. “Come on, Spencer. You and I both know you got a scholarship out of this, put in the minimum time, took deferral to the reserves as soon as you could, and hoped never to see the inside of another military small craft as long as you lived. That about sum it up?”
For a moment, Justin froze. His cheeks heated, while his mouth opened and closed several times. The truth was undeniable. The way he puts it makes me sound like a coward. Justin briefly felt shame before anger took over. He set his jaw. “Major, I… Look, I couldn’t afford school. I tested high in the CVAB. I’d always loved the idea of flying a fighter in space. So, yeah. I took advantage of the hand life dealt me.”
“In my book, you join the military for one reason, son. That’s defending your country against all enemies, foreign and domestic… in case you don’t remember the oath we took.”
Justin gritted his teeth. “Do you have a point, sir?”
“I always have a point, Lieutenant.” Whatley moved, closing to within two inches of Justin's face. “The moment an active-duty squadron is available to replace the Red Tails, I’m taking it. Until then, do as you’re ordered, stay out of my way, and try not to get the men and women under your command killed. Got it?”
“Yes, sir.” Justin forced the words out through barely disguised rage.
“Dismissed.”
Justin turned on his heel and marched out of the ready room as he struggled to control his emotions. Who the hell does Whatley think he is? I did my duty. A black cloud followed him as he prepared to enter the cockpit once more.
* * *
“Conn, Navigation. Lawrence drive emergence complete, within a thousand kilometers of target,” Mitzner called as she shifted in her seat.
Tehrani gazed straight ahead, past Mitzner and Bryan and out into the black void of space. Seven jumps in ten and a half hours. We’re probably lucky to be alive. She turned to Wright. “Any signs of exotic-particle release?”
“No, ma’am.” Wright leaned forward. “I doubt luck had anything to do with it.”
“And you attribute our good fortune to?”
“Maybe a small touch of divine intervention? I could be charitable and credit our chief engineer.”
Since Tehrani had laid down the law the previous day, Wright and Hodges had seemed to get along much better.
“Both sound plausible to me. What about intel updates?”
“Nothing beyond what we already know. The holonews channels are filled with panicked people and rumors of invasion fleets being sighted across the Terran Coalition. CIS still says there’s one force, and it’s at Canaan. They appear to be going for a knockout blow.”
“It would make sense to decapitate our leadership, primary shipyards, and military installations.”
“Pearl Harbor.”
Tehrani stared at him. “Pearl what?”
“The site of a battle back on Earth. Second World War,” Wright began. “I studied military history during my time at the academy. The Japanese military attempted to destroy the American Navy’s Pacific fleet in one fell swoop. The Americans got lucky and didn’t lose their carriers.”
“I think I remember reading something about that.” Tehrani quirked her nose. “As long as we don’t go down in the history books as losing the war during our first battle.”
“Conn, Communications,” Singh interjected. “Flash traffic from CDF Command.”
“My viewer, Lieutenant,” Tehrani replied. She turned to the monitor as a vidlink image appeared.
“Colonel, this is Lieutenant Andrew MacIntosh. I’m attached to General Irvine’s flag staff.” The young man on the screen was wearing CDF duty khakis. He spoke with a bit of a brogue, which matched the Scottish flag on his left shoulder in the country position.
Tehrani checked the series of authentication codes that came through then nodded. “Understood, MacIntosh. What can we do for you?”
“The CSV Conqueror suffered catastrophic reactor failure while attempting a Lawrence drive jump to the fleet’s muster location. She’s under attack by a small force of League escorts and bombers. The Zvika Greengold is ordered to jump immediately and relieve her by any means necessary then render aid as required to get that battleship back in operation. General Irvine wishes to explicitly remind you that losing any capital vessel will be a severe blow to our cause.”
“Understood, Lieutenant. Will there be any backup?”
“We can’t spare anything beyond your battlegroup. Once the Conqueror is back in action, your unit will receive additional orders. Command out.”
“I’ll give him this—he’s direct,” Wright said. “I see a problem here.”
Tehrani turned her head. “Oh?”
“Our escorts are one jump back. Their drives aren’t as powerful
as ours, and we couldn’t jump other ships through without overly straining our engines. That wasn’t supposed to be a problem—”
“But it is now.” Tehrani closed her eyes. Allah help us. “Four or five thousand soldiers are on that old battlewagon, hoping we’ll ride to the rescue, XO.” Smiling, she said, “Semper tempus,” then pointed toward his ballcap emblazoned with the Zvika Greengold’s Latin motto.
“We should at least check with engineering.” Wright made a face. “I have no interest in dying in a Lawrence drive malfunction.”
“Agreed.” Tehrani chuckled and toggled her chair-integrated intercom to contact the primary engineering spaces. “Major Hodges, can you hear me?”
“Yes, ma’am. What can I do for you, skipper?”
“We need to jump as soon as possible. What’s our current risk level?”
“Too high, ma’am. To get under one percent of failure, I need another ten minutes.”
“Make it five.”
“Ma’am—”
“Five minutes, Major.”
“Aye, aye, ma’am.”
Tehrani smiled as the line clicked off. “I learned a long time ago that engineers always pad the estimates.”
“Ain’t that the truth.” Wright laughed. “We’d better alert flight control. This is going to be hairy. I assume you have a plan?”
“Drop out as close to the Conqueror as possible, launch our birds, and hope it’s enough.” I make it sound so easy. While it’s true that we trained for this, the real thing is far different from training scenarios.
“Ah, the simple plan.”
“Touché, XO.” Tehrani turned her eyes forward. “Navigation, plot a jump course to the coordinates loaded in our tactical computer from command.”
“Aye, aye, ma’am.”
“TAO, raise shields and charge the energy weapon capacitor.”
Bryan nodded. “Aye, aye, ma’am. Shields energized. Capacitor charging.”
Coalition Defense Force Boxed Set: First to Fight Page 5