Coalition Defense Force Boxed Set: First to Fight

by Gibbs, Daniel

  “I’m making a career out of it.”

  “Why?” David asked.

  “I might change my mind later, I suppose, but it’s what I feel I need to do with my life. My parents want me to go to law school, but I’m completely uninterested in doing that.”

  “You could be in the military and be a lawyer. That’s what the JAG Corps is, right?”

  Sheila rolled her eyes. “I’m not joining the military to be a lawyer. I want to be on the sharp tip of the spear. I tried out for the flight academy, but I didn’t score high enough on CVAB. I only got seventy-fifth percentile.”

  “Only.”

  Sheila laughed. “You’re not half bad once you crawl out of that shell, Mr. Cohen.”

  David smirked. “Do I look like an officer to you?”

  “No, but I will be in a couple of years,” Sheila said with a grin.

  “How’s that?”

  “I already have my degree. I did most of it in high school and finished up the last year while on draft deferment. I want to serve as an enlisted soldier for two years then go to officers’ candidate school. Eventually, I want to command a starship.”

  “I’d say you have it all planned out.”

  “I think I do. But I doubt my plans will survive first contact with life.”

  “So do you just sit around reading books about the military? Because I recognized that one. Some general once said that ‘no plan survives first contact with the enemy.’”

  Sheila rolled her eyes again. “As a matter of fact, yes. I’ve read many books about the military.”

  “It shows. We’d better get these clothes finished before the DIs come back in here and make us do push-ups again.”

  “Look who’s suddenly being responsible and not trying to annoy the drill instructors.”

  “Hey, I know good advice when I hear it.”

  * * *

  David smiled at the memory as he pulled out his tablet and went to the vidlink function then keyed in Sheila’s name. Her icon showed active, much to his relief. He pressed the button to start a long-distance link, and a few seconds later, her face popped up.

  “David, is that you?” she asked with a huge smile on her face.

  “David Cohen, the man, the myth, the moron… at your service.”

  “I told you to quit making fun of yourself.”

  “Old habits die hard. Besides, if I make fun of myself, I’m less likely to be made fun of for my dad’s heroics or whatever it is I’m a target for this week. When I was first assigned to the Artemis, I got sent around the ship for two hours, looking for a cable stretcher.”

  “A cable stretcher? It took you two hours to figure out that was a prank?” Sheila asked with an arched eyebrow.

  His cheeks heated. “Well… for some reason, it made sense at the time.”

  “If it makes you feel better, they got me with hydraulic blinker fluid.”

  David laughed. “That’s great.”

  “Watch it, Mr. Cohen.”

  “I’m still not an officer.”

  “Yeah, but somehow you got to Corporal before I did.”

  David shrugged. “Yeah, I’m not sure why.”

  “Might have something to do with you going all John Wayne and taking out half a League combat brigade.”

  David gave her a hard look. “One… I was promoted before that. Two… I’m still not okay with killing those people.”

  “I know. What’s on your mind?”

  “We were in another battle today.”

  “You wiped out another League combat brigade?”

  David shook his head. “No. Our XO was killed in action. Along with the navigator. She died right next to me after helping me move the ship to safety. All she cared about was saving the rest of us… even with a metal bar going through her chest.”

  Sheila frowned, pursing her lips. “I’m so sorry, David. I didn’t realize.”

  “It’s war. I get it. It’s not going to be the last time I see someone die when I’m posted to the front lines.” He paused for a moment, wrinkling his forehead. “I’m beginning to think that maybe Major Pipes was right.”

  “You mean in asking you to go to OCS?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why? When we talked about it last, you were really adamant that you wanted out of the CDF.”

  “I know. I’m… I wonder if maybe I’m just running away. It’s easy to run away. It’s not easy to stand up and fight. My father used to say that there are three types of people: sheep, wolves, and sheepdogs. He’d say that sheep are the majority of people, good and moral, without a capability to commit violence. Wolves, though, have a thirst for violence and prey on the sheep. Sheepdogs, on the other hand, have the ability to commit violence but only do so to protect the sheep from the wolves. Dad… was a sheepdog. He ran toward danger and served for twenty years, and I don’t think he feared anyone or anything.”

  “So now you’re feeling that it might make sense to stay in?”

  “If Major Pipes is right, and I do have what he calls natural leadership ability... maybe there’s a way I can help win the war. If we win, that stops the killing. Right?”

  “David, if you’re looking for absolution, I can’t give it to you. I can only tell you that I know a life of service in defense of my country is what I need to do, at least today and for the foreseeable future. You’re the only one who can decide whether it’s what you need to do.”

  “Good advice, as always.”

  Sheila smiled. “I ought to charge you for it.”

  “We did promise to stay in touch… after spending boot camp looking out for each other. Especially the final exercise. That thing was brutal. Forced march throughout the night, live fire obstacle course… The League has nothing on our drill instructors.”

  Sheila laughed. “Yeah, I’ll give you that. Hey, no matter what you decide, David, you’ve got nothing to prove. It’s your life. Your choice. Okay?”

  David nodded. “I guess I’ve just got a big choice to make.”

  “It sounds like you do.”

  “Okay, I’m going to get off this thing before I burn up an entire year’s worth of communications credits.”

  “Take care, David. Be safe. Shalom.”

  David cracked a smile. “Shalom.” With the press of a button, her face disappeared.

  David put the tablet away and stared at the top of his bunk, repeatedly running through the decision he faced. I’ve got to do this. I don’t know exactly why, but I can’t turn away from it. He pulled out his personal pad and brought up the mail application. Quickly composing a message to the acting XO, he requested a follow-up meeting with Major Pipes. Then he turned over and went to sleep, finally finding rest.

  * * *

  The next day, David went about his normal duties, and as the hours crept by, he wondered if he’d blown his chance with Major Pipes. Perhaps he had closed that door when he rejected him the first time, but as the end of the day neared, he was in the middle of his daily rounds, checking on work orders, when his personal communicator buzzed. He opened it to find a message from Major Pipes, ordering him to the CO’s office posthaste.

  David raced back to his locker and deposited his tools inside. He walked to the gravlift and took it to deck one, which housed Major Pipes’s office and day cabin. When he knocked on the closed hatch, he heard Pipes’s distinctive voice.

  “Come.”

  After opening the hatch and walking in, David brought himself to attention in front of the major’s desk. “Corporal David Cohen reports as ordered, sir.”

  “Corporal, I was surprised you asked to see me after our last conversation.”

  “Sir, I’ve been thinking a lot over the last few weeks about what you said the last time we spoke.”

  Pipes stared at him for a few moments. “Have a seat, Corporal.” After David sat down, the major continued, “You seemed to make your feelings known the last time we sat together in my office. What changed?”

  “Last week on the bridge, s
ir.”

  Furrowing his brow, Major Pipes nodded. “What about it?”

  “The navigator died in front of me, sir. Her only concern was the ship and getting it to safety. That had an impact on me. I know I’m young and have much to learn, but I also know to the very core of my being that the League of Sol is evil. I believe that evil must be opposed. I can’t run from that, and I can’t run from what I’m good at. You were right. I’m good at this in spite of my desire not to be.”

  “Are you sure, Corporal? I don’t want you to do it for a year then get cold feet. If you’re going to make a commitment, you’ve got to stick with it.”

  David nodded. “I understand, sir. I’m all in on this.”

  Pipes let an uncomfortable silence fill the office.

  “It’s not an easy life, David. At all. There are days when you will regret it and wish you had chosen a different path. Especially on the days you go to bed alone in your bunk with no one at home waiting for you.”

  “Sir, I’ve spent a lot of time considering just that. Even though I don’t like to admit it, I get tunnel vision in combat. I act. I’m able to focus on the problem at hand and logically think it through, even with the chaos around me. It seems like that might be a useful trait to bring to combat.”

  “It’s possibly the most useful trait, to use your words, son. I knew you had it when I read the after-action report from the boarding.”

  “I’m sorry I rejected your offer the first time, sir.”

  “There’s nothing to be sorry about. This decision isn’t one to be made lightly.”

  “Why’d you do it, sir?” David asked.

  “I’d already joined the CDF prior to the Battle of Canaan. I thought it was going to be a place where I figured out what I wanted to do in life and gained some skills, and since I’d joined the reserve officers training cadre, they paid for my degree. Frankly, it seemed like a good deal at the time. After that dark day, I first wanted to get even. When that passed, I wanted to be sure it never happened again. So here I am, twelve years later. Promoted to major and commanding a frigate. If you apply yourself, David, you can do the same. I think you could go far in the CDF, but most importantly, you’ve got something to offer. Don’t get a big head, always learn new things, and stay focused.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Above all, never stop trying to bring your crew home. Aside from defeating the enemy, that is your most important charge.”

  “Yes, sir,” David said again.

  “I’ll put in your application and sponsor it. Once I get word back, you’ll be the first to know.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “All right, Corporal, I’m sure you have duties to attend to. Dismissed.”

  David stood, braced to attention, and departed his office, mind racing about what he’d gotten himself into.

  6

  CSV Audacious

  Patrol Sector 62E—Terran Coalition / League of Sol Active Combat Zone

  5 February 2460

  Sixteen years later, David Cohen walked into his cabin on the CSV Audacious, a Thane-class escort carrier. He paused to strip off his rank insignia—that of a major—and ribbons before taking off his khaki uniform shirt. Two and a half years into my tour as the XO of this ship, and it seems like I’m just learning how to do the job well. He took a seat on the small couch that occupied most of the tiny living room space and pulled up his fleetlink to review his personal communications. Scanning quickly through the videos and text messages he’d received during the day, he noticed a note from his detailer, the person assigned to place him and other officers into positions they would hopefully excel at.

  That’s the idea anyway. I’ve always found my postings to be a bit random. I’ve gotten some good assignments, though—XO on this carrier among the best so far. Remembering his first days on the carrier, David thought he was a good leader coming into the role. Being forced to find creative solutions to problems he’d never encountered before, he’d learned how to work through issues in a manner that allowed the crew to thrive and the ship to remain in tip-top shape.

  After he pulled the note up, he had to read it twice for the full meaning to set in.

  David,

  How’s the Audacious treating you? Your recent FITREP was exceptional. It’s opened many doors for the next posting in your career. I’ve got a unique opening for you to consider. The CSV Yitzhak Rabin, one of those next-generation Ajax class destroyers, is in need of a CO. Her current CO is retiring after twenty years in service, and the previously selected CO is suddenly not available. So… your name is at the top of my list. What do you say? I realize it’s out of the blue, but I need an answer by 0800 CMT tomorrow morning.

  – Ronald

  David sat back on the couch, absorbing the request. The circle is now complete. Once I take command of this ship, I’ll have effectively traveled the same path my father did. Does that make me my father? The idea that someday he would command the same class of ship had occurred to him over the years, but to finally have it happen caused deep and latent feelings to roar to the surface. How far I’ve come from a ruddy-faced teenager to this. Dad would be proud.

  Over the years, he’d been able to compartmentalize the emotional side of his mind and had seen counselors after each major engagement, as mandated by CDF medical personnel. Always making a conscious effort to internalize most of his feelings, he didn’t want to show what he perceived to be weakness. It led to a calm and focused exterior, but when the night was quiet and he lay in bed, he couldn’t stop seeing the faces of the people he’d been forced to kill in the discharge of his duties or those he couldn’t save. It was an ever-present reminder of the cost of war.

  He cross-referenced the name of the ship, the CSV Yitzhak Rabin. An Ajax-class destroyer, she was one of the newest ships in the fleet. The Ajax class had been introduced three years ago to much fanfare. They packed the shield generators and weapons of a previous generation light cruiser and had performed exceptionally well against the League since their introduction. Rumors around the CDF said that the Matrinids, another friendly alien race in the local sector, had provided advanced shield technology, but David typically found RUMINT—the slang term for “rumor intelligence”— to be highly unreliable.

  As he began to compose his reply to his detailer, he paused, considering the tremendous responsibility of starship command. Even his posting as the XO of the Audacious was not the same. On the Audacious, while he ran the various departments of the ship and kept it humming along, the CO made the final decisions. For just a moment, he thought, Do you really want to decide life and death for four hundred fifty people? Can you handle that? But he was sure and confident. I’ve got this. After seventeen years of preparation, I’m ready to lead. Ultimately, he believed he had a duty to fight the good fight, using every talent he had to defeat the evil that was the League of Sol.

  David finished his reply, thanking the detailer and accepting the assignment. He’d known for a while he was on the command shortlist, but being offered command of a destroyer after one tour as an XO surprised him. Then again, the war wasn’t going that well. The joint chiefs were careful not to say it in public, and the military and government officials continued to play up the victories while downplaying the defeats. But everyone on the front lines knew they were being dragged kicking and screaming to the gallows by the League’s overwhelming superiority in numbers. The CDF still had a lot of fight in it, and they won more engagements than they lost... but it was only a matter of time.

  David continued to hope that a new ally or new technology would help shift the tide of the war. The Terran Coalition had far superior shields, weapons, and propulsion technology, but it was only a generation or so better than the League’s. It needed to be three generations ahead to truly turn the tide, as superiority of that magnitude would render League ships virtually unable to target, damage, or destroy CDF vessels in meaningful numbers. Throughout the military, people had been talking about the Victory Project, a top-se
cret program to create a new ship class. Command probably let that leak to keep up civilian morale more than anything.

  Setting those thoughts aside, David hit send on his reply then pulled up the crew roster for the Rabin. He immediately noticed that the XO’s position was unfilled. Well, well. I wonder. Sheila had been deep-selected by the promotion board for command as well. Maybe she’d be interested in serving with me again. David viewed her as a “fire and forget” missile. Whatever needed to be done, just give it to her, and she would make sure it happened. It would be good to see her again for more than just a quick lunch or dinner when travel plans happened to overlap every couple of years. He pulled up his mail application and started to compose a letter to her, a smile creeping onto his face.

  Sheila,

  I hope this note finds you well. It’s been a couple of weeks since I had time to write, but things have been so crazy. I was just offered command of an Ajax-class destroyer, the CSV Yitzhak Rabin. Are you sitting down? I hope so. The XO slot is open, and I know you’re the second officer of a guided missile cruiser, but the XO on the Rabin was reassigned on an emergency basis just a couple of weeks ago. My detailer asked me if I could recommend someone, and you were the first and only person that came to mind. Would you like me to send him your way?

  – David

  * * *

  Captain Sheila Thompson walked into her stateroom aboard the CSV Stromboli, a Lepanto-class guided-missile cruiser, after pulling a double shift on the bridge, covering the first and second watch. Both the CO and the XO were down with nasty cases of the flu, and as the second watch officer, she had to pick up the slack. She was ready for a hot shower followed by a private dinner and a good night’s sleep before taking first shift again in the morning. As she ran the hot water for her bath, her tablet’s flashing alert light caught her attention.