“It really is a technology race, isn’t it,” David said.
“Our edges are our technology and our training. At least from my perspective, sir.”
The Terran Coalition couldn’t ever hope to match the League’s overwhelming numbers, but they had better technology and highly trained personnel, and their soldiers were simply more motivated. It made sense. People fighting to defend their families and homes were more effective than conscripts forced to fight on pain of death. It had been that way for centuries. He had read in history textbooks in high school that back on Earth, the old Freedom Coalition had a scientist named Dr. Sir James Lawrence, who discovered a method to artificially fold space through a stable wormhole. That key piece of technology allowed the Freedom Coalition to evacuate tens of millions of people from Earth and eventually form the Terran Coalition.
“Agreed. And our training is something that can never be neglected, even in wartime. If we don’t exercise on a nearly daily basis, skills are lost. I can’t allow that on my ship, nor can anyone in the CDF allow it.” David paused. “Is there anything I can do to help your department or anything I can get you that you need?”
Hanson shook his head. “No, sir. Major Najem was great about making sure we had what we needed. All I’d ask is that if I have a request, you do your best to get it for us.”
“You have my word on that, Captain.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Before we adjourn, anything you’d like to talk about?”
“Uh, no, sir. I’m going to avoid the obvious,” Hanson said. “I’m sure you get tired of people asking about it.”
David decided he was really going to like Hanson. Everyone wanted to talk about his father, asking what it was like being the son of a hero. If David had a credit for every time someone asked him that, he would be rich beyond all dreams. Might not have to think about it all the time either. “I appreciate that more than you can know.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, I’d better get ready for the next meeting. Thank you for stopping by.” David stood and extended his hand, and they shook hands firmly.
“Yes, sir. I’ll be down in engineering, sir.”
“Carry on, Captain.”
Hanson turned and left the office, giving David a few minutes to prepare for his next one-on-one meeting with First Lieutenant Ruth Goldberg, who was more of an enigma. The TAO was primarily responsible for controlling the weapons systems on the ship, guided by David’s orders. Few positions were more important on a warship, and David’s goal was to create a seamless working relationship with Ruth. In a battle, it would be vital that she understood exactly what he wanted to occur.
To within almost the second of the meeting time, a knock came at the hatch to David’s day cabin.
“Come in!” he yelled.
The hatch swung open, and Ruth walked in confidently. She came to attention before his desk. “Lieutenant Ruth Goldberg reporting as ordered, sir.”
“At ease, Lieutenant,” David replied. “Please, have a seat.”
Ruth sat down on the chair nearest to her and stared at David with piercing eyes, almost as if they were boring through him. “What can I do for you, sir?” she asked.
“Straight to the point. I like that, Lieutenant. As I just told Captain Hanson, I’ve been through several changes of command over the years, and I always took notes when I saw someone do it particularly well. One thing that impressed me was a new CO that did one-on-one meetings with all the senior staff. So I decided to crib his idea.”
“I see, sir,” Ruth’s face was emotionless and her tone, direct.
David pressed on. “In reviewing your service jacket, I couldn’t help but notice some discrepancies in your dates of service.” He smiled. “You seem to have been in the CDF since you were sixteen.”
An expression that morphed between pride and sadness washed over Ruth’s face. “Yes, sir. My parents and the rest of my family were killed during the League invasion of our home planet when I was fifteen. I joined a resistance cell. After a year, the TCMC retook our planet, and I forged my father’s signature on my enlistment papers.”
“I’m sorry, Lieutenant. I didn’t realize.”
“I don’t normally talk about it, sir. I discovered throughout the course of my service that I have a knack for gunnery control. So I applied for a limited duty officer position at OCS, and here I am.” Ruth smiled ruefully. “I get to stop the Leaguers from doing to another world what they did to mine.”
David felt from the way she spoke that she’d left off, “And I get to make up for what they did to mine.” Revenge could be a powerful motivation but a dark one. David wrestled with it daily. Parts of him simply wanted to kill every last League soldier out there. Yet he also realized that revenge led to a dark place, and if he allowed himself to give in fully to hating the League, he’d be no better than them. Who I am kidding? I hate the League, what it stands for, and its leadership like Admiral Seville more than anything.
“So do we all, Lieutenant. So do we all,” David said. “Is there anything I can do to improve the tactical department or give you the tools you need to do your job better?”
“Well, sir, we haven’t been to the Valiant Shield exercises before, but this year, we were selected to participate before you took command. The ship has never taken home any Command Excellence awards. The crew would love to change that.”
“That sounds like a great goal, Lieutenant. From your perspective, where are we lacking?”
“I don’t think we’re lacking in basic skills, sir. But we need more drills, and in time, those bring practiced muscle memory that doesn’t fail in times of stress. I would recommend that we begin a regimen of random battle drills, and closer to the exercise, we put the crew through its paces constantly.”
“It sure would be nice to have a Battle E on this ship at our first exercise,” David said with a grin. The Battle Efficiency Award was given to the ship that performed the best in a series of exercises within its squadron. They were a source of great pride for the crew, who were allowed to wear a distinctive Battle E ribbon on their uniform if the ship they were serving on won the award. “Work with the XO to put together the battle-drill scenarios. I want them kept fresh and to be scenarios we’d be likely to see in the real world.”
“Yes, sir,” Ruth replied, perking up. “If I may, sir, I couldn’t help but notice you’re from New Israel. Do you practice?”
“I do. I consider myself to be a modern Orthodox Jew. What about you?” Ruth had a Star of David patch under the CDF flag on her shoulder.
“I’m somewhere between Conservative and Orthodox, sir.” She offered a half smile. “I don’t always keep kosher, but I do keep up with my prayers and don’t eat pork.”
David laughed. “I don’t know many Jews, even Reform, that eat pork. I know our chaplain is a Christian, so do we have any services of our own aboard?”
“A group of us gathers for Shabbat weekly, sir. On Saturday, we also gather for a message delivered via subspace radio. Since several of us are Orthodox, we recruit a non-Jew to turn on the feed for us.”
“I see. Perhaps there is room for one more.”
“There’s always room for one more, sir. Maybe you would care to lead us this Friday. I understand you once wanted to be a rabbi.”
“That was a lifetime ago.” I am not going there in my first one-on-one discussion with a subordinate. “But I would be happy to join you all, and if I can contribute in some way, I will.”
“Of course, sir. I’ll send an invite to your account on the ship’s calendar.”
David suddenly felt uncomfortable. Confronting that part of his past wasn’t something he liked to do. Going from a man who wanted to teach others about God to a military officer responsible for the deaths of only God knew how many other sentient beings disturbed him. “Well, Lieutenant, I’d better get ready for my next meeting. Thank you for giving me a few minutes of your time.” He stood.
“Of course, si
r. I look forward to our ship winning that Battle E.” Ruth stood as well.
As he had with his previous meetings, he extended his hand and shook hers firmly. “Carry on, Lieutenant.”
As Ruth left, David wondered what anger and hate she harbored toward the League. He worried that it would eventually consume her and made it one of his goals for his assigned time to the Rabin to try to help her through those emotions. Maybe in so doing, he could help himself as well.
Between planning sessions with the senior officers over the next few weeks, Sheila and Ruth’s random battle drills, and Hanson’s constant tweaks to get just a little more effectiveness out of the main reactors and systems, the ship was more than ready to compete in Valiant Shield.
For two weeks, the Rabin and her crew participated in around-the-clock exercises and simulations. Much to David’s surprise, the Rabin took home not only the Battle E but also the Fast Warfare Excellence award and the Engineering and Survivability Excellence award at the end of the exercise. As she headed back to the front, a gold E, a black E, and a red E were proudly displayed under her bridge, and all members of her crew wore the Battle E ribbon with pride.
Over the next six months, the Rabin also participated in several border skirmishes, including a couple that resulted in disabled League vessels, without taking severe damage. However, it was only a matter of time before a significant engagement occurred in his assigned patrol sector, as the League had been pouring more resources into the area for weeks, building up to a new offensive campaign.
Much like every other day for the last few months, on 16 August, 2460, David got up at 0430, exercised in the ship’s gym, took a shower, and readied himself for the day. Grabbing a cup of hot coffee and a small breakfast before he made his way to bridge, he exchanged pleasantries with most of the ship’s officers. Another thing the CDF had inherited from its wet navy predecessors were customs and courtesies to officers. As such, whenever he first encountered any crewman on the Rabin in a given twenty-four-hour period, enlisted or officer, that person would come to attention. Since they were on a ship, a cover was not worn except on the bridge, and salutes were not exchanged except when covered.
While David respected the traditions, the practice made him feel somewhat out of place. He didn’t believe he deserved the level of attention given, but that was tradition, and an old master chief or two had explained to him that the customs weren’t for him but more for the position he occupied. That was something he could accept far more freely.
As he reached the bridge, he donned his cover and strode through the hatch.
The eagle-eyed master chief announced David’s presence. “Commanding officer on the bridge.”
Those crew members and officers who were not strapped into their stations immediately came to attention and saluted. David returned their salutes and took the CO’s chair.
A junior officer who had been standing watch turned to David. “Sir, are you ready to take the conn?”
David nodded. “This is the commanding officer. I have the conn.”
The rest of the officers on station acknowledged David’s order, and he spent the next few minutes studying the ship’s status displays before settling in to the first watch of the day.
A few hours into the watch, the communications officer interrupted David’s thoughts. “Conn, Communications. I have flash traffic from the CSV Dutiful.”
David’s eyebrows shot up at the mention of the Dutiful. It was another Ajax-class destroyer assigned to his sector, and its CO was a lieutenant colonel who doubled as the overall commander for the space action group David and his ship were assigned to.
“Put it on my personal viewer, Lieutenant.”
A moment later, a video feed of Lieutenant Colonel Dyson showed on the viewer above the CO’s chair.
“Greetings, Major,” Dyson said. “How are those shiny new E’s on your ship doing?”
The mention of the Battle E brought a smile to David’s face, and he beamed with pride. “Still have that new-paint smell, Colonel.”
“Well, we’re about to put them to the test. I’m marshalling a force to interdict a League convoy that’s trying to exit Coalition space. CDF Intelligence believes the convoy contains thousands of captured civilians the League is trying to transport back to their space.”
David’s stomach turned. Captured Terran Coalition civilians were treated as no more than slaves by the League. They were forced into reeducation camps where torture was commonplace, until death came from the back-breaking hard labor they had to endure. “Understood, sir. How can we help?”
“Proceed to the coordinates I’m about to send you as fast as possible. My navigator tells me you’ll arrive after us, but it’s vital we jump this convoy while its Lawrence drives cool down.”
“Aye, sir. Wouldn’t want to miss the party.” David grinned.
Dyson laughed. “You won’t, Major. There are ten League combat ships escorting these freighters. We’ll have three frigates with us, but it’s still going to be a fight.” His expression darkened. “Godspeed, Major. We’ll see you soon.”
“Godspeed, Colonel,” David said before the screen went dark.
The mood on the bridge had gone from businesslike to edgy within seconds of David’s discussion with Dyson. He took note as he ran through what they were about to fly into—a significant fleet engagement where they would be outnumbered though not necessarily outgunned. Terran Coalition vessels, especially the newest classes such as the Ajax, were technologically superior to any League ship of equal tonnage. The problem for the Terran Coalition was that the League greatly outnumbered them. While the League could stand to lose four ships to each CDF ship it destroyed, the CDF had to achieve a ratio of between six and eight to one. Anything less was a Pyrrhic victory.
“XO, take the navigation station. Lieutenant Godfrey, take tactical subcontrol, if you please.”
Lieutenant Godfrey’s face turned ashen. “Sir?”
David shook his head. “Lieutenant, this is no slight on your abilities, but we’re about to fly into our first major fleet engagement, and I want the best helmsman on the ship flying us. No second chances on this one. You’ve only been on the job for three weeks.”
Godfrey nodded stiffly. “Aye, sir.”
David wished he hadn’t had to say that on the bridge, but he couldn’t have a novice taking them into combat for the first time. Sheila was the best pilot on the ship, and he needed her flying.
As she took her position at the navigation station, looking out the bridge windows, David punched up the ship-wide intercom, 1MC.
“Attention, all hands. This is the commanding officer. General quarters. General quarters. Man your battle stations. I say again, man your battle stations. Set material condition one throughout the ship. This is not a drill.”
A moment after David finished speaking, blue light bathed the bridge of the Rabin, and the general-quarters klaxon sounded. There would be pandemonium below as the crew raced to their assigned battle stations. I remember those days.
Sheila turned back from the navigation station. “Conn, Navigation. Course laid in, and our Lawrence drive is ready to engage.”
“TAO, energize our shields and charge the energy-weapons capacitor the moment we exit our second jump. Preload all magnetic cannons with high-explosive rounds. Make missile cells one and two ready in all respects except opening the outer doors.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” Ruth said. “Shields raised. Magnetic cannons loaded with high-explosive rounds.”
“XO, charge Lawrence drive.”
“Aye, sir. Charging Lawrence drive,” Sheila replied.
David punched a button on his chair, activating the intercom in the engine room. “Cohen to Hanson.”
“Hanson here, sir.”
“The moment we secure our Lawrence drive, start emergency-jump-readiness procedures. I want to be on our way the second it’s safe.”
“Aye, aye, sir.”
The only downside of our FTL system
. If we jump too many times in quick succession, exotic particles are introduced, and if they appear in the wrong spot, well… catastrophic explosion and no more Rabin.
The ship’s Lawrence drive started drawing power from the main reactor, building up to what amounted to critical mass, opening a wormhole between two points. As soon as the wormhole was confirmed to be stable, Sheila guided the Rabin through its gaping maw, and they emerged on the other side. Little was said on the bridge as the Rabin went through a fifteen-minute cooldown period, then the engineering staff confirmed that the Lawrence drive was ready to engage once more.
David took a few minutes to collect his thoughts before whispering a prayer in Hebrew. “God, if it is your will, protect my crew and allow them to return to their families safely.” He always prayed before battle but never for victory, only asking that God spare the lives of his crew.
“Conn, Engineering. Safety checks complete. We’re ready to jump.”
“Engineering, acknowledged. Prepare for jump,” David said.
He gripped both sides of his chair, looking around the room. Fighting down the knot in his stomach, he decided that all of them might use a few words of encouragement.
After punching up 1MC again, David said into the mic, “Attention, all hands. This is the commanding officer. We are about to jump into combat against the League. Our objective is to neutralize the enemy force and rescue civilians being held on slave transports. This will be our first true battle together. Remember your training, trust in your crewmates, and say a prayer. We’re going to need all the help we can get. Godspeed. Cohen out.”
David turned forward, toward Sheila. “XO, engage Lawrence drive.”
7
Space tore itself open in Sector 17A, and a wormhole appeared—a swirling mass of color and energy. The CSV Yitzhak Rabin emerged, and its artificial tunnel through the stars closed within seconds.
On the bridge, Sheila was the first to speak. “Conn, Navigation. Transit complete. Emerging from wormhole within five thousand kilometers of target.”
Coalition Defense Force Boxed Set: First to Fight Page 28