Coalition Defense Force Boxed Set: First to Fight

by Gibbs, Daniel

  Taylor interrupted David’s thoughts. “Conn, Communications. I have Colonel Demood for you, sir, on the vidlink.”

  “Put him through to my viewer, Lieutenant.”

  A moment later, Calvin’s face appeared on David’s monitor. Blood streaked across it, and his armor was scorched in many places. “Sir, can you hear me?” he asked.

  “Loud and clear, Colonel.”

  “We’ve secured the transport and rescued at least three thousand POWs. Mission accomplished.”

  David sat back. “That… is incredible news, Colonel. Any casualties on our side?”

  “Light, sir. I’ve got eighteen Marines KIA and twenty-three seriously wounded, and I think almost all of us got hit by something.” Calvin cracked a smile. “We gave a hell of a lot better than we took, sir.”

  David nodded. “Good job, Demood. We’ll be back shortly.”

  “One other thing, Colonel. We lost a contractor who volunteered for the mission. One of the finest displays of bravery I’ve ever seen. Without him, none of us would be here. You make sure he’s remembered.”

  “You have my word. No one will be forgotten today,” David said, raising an eyebrow. He decided not to inquire about the clearly broken regulations.

  “Thank you, sir. Demood out.”

  David looked around the bridge and stood to acknowledge the celebration with his crew. “Good job, everyone!” he roared before clapping.

  The result was infectious. Officers, enlisted personnel, and senior NCOs all clapped and cheered. Then as quickly as it had started, the release of emotion was done. The bridge crew went back to their duties, and David stared forward, proud of them for what they had accomplished.

  “Sir,” Taylor said with an unusual tenor to his voice. “I have a message for you from engineering. I think you may want to take this in private.”

  David looked at Taylor quizzically. “I’m sure I can hear anything from Engineering on the bridge, Lieutenant. What’s going on?”

  Taylor gulped. “Sir, Major Thompson was in the forward magazine when it was exposed to vacuum. She was sucked into space, sir.”

  “Our emergency pressure suits only have six hours of air. We need to get search and rescue into space immediately. Contact Colonel Amir on a priority channel, Lieutenant.”

  Taylor looked down. “I’m sorry, sir. She wasn’t wearing a suit.” His gaze rose. “There is no way she could have survived, sir.”

  David was stunned and at a loss for words for a few moments. He ran through any scenario in which Sheila could have survived but found none. As the news started to sink in, his emotions began to fail him. The room spun, and all he could think of was that it couldn’t be true and had to be a bad dream. When the spinning stopped, and Taylor was still staring at him, the enormity of losing his best friend hit him like a ton of bricks.

  “I see,” he said slowly. “Deploy search and rescue. We owe it to her to find her body to bring home for a proper Christian burial.” He stumbled over the final words, not wanting them to be true. His voice broke, and he almost started sobbing right there on the bridge.

  “Yes, sir. Immediately, sir.”

  Ruth and Hammond looked at each other with concern.

  “Lieutenant Goldberg, you have the conn,” David said slowly. He stood and stepped to one side.

  “This is Lieutenant Goldberg, I have the conn.” She moved to the command chair.

  “I will be in my cabin,” David said with incredible difficulty. His objective was to get off the bridge without breaking down in tears in front of his crew.

  As he walked toward the hatch, each step became harder. Every passing second seemed like an eternity. His steps slowed, and tears ran down his face.

  Master Chief Tinetariro saw them and walked to his side. “Let me help you, sir,” she said under her breath. Taking David’s arm, she guided him into the passageway.

  After the hatch to the bridge closed behind them, he said between sobs, “Thank you, Master Chief. I need to be alone.”

  “I know what you’re going through, sir. I’ve had to lay too many friends into the dirt. If you want to talk, I’m here.”

  “I’ve lost more friends than I can count. But this…” David bit his lip. “This is just different. Not her.”

  “If I die in cold space, send my body home to rest, fold my hands across my chest, and tell my mom I did my best,” Tinetariro said, repeating an often-heard CDF marching cadence.

  Slowly growing numb, David gave a slight smile despite the tears rolling down his face. “Thank you, Master Chief,” he said sadly. “Carry on.”

  Tinetariro nodded silently and watched as David made his way down the passageway.

  38

  Several hours later, Ruth still held the conn. Casualty reports were coming in, and the rescue teams combing the wreckage of the League ships had finished their work. Of the twenty-nine fighters and bombers that had been lost, search and rescue had found eighteen of the pilots and brought them home safely. They’d lost another nine personnel aboard the Lion, plus the Marines that had died storming the transport. After entering all the names into the ship’s log, Ruth transmitted the list and the actions of the day to CDF Command.

  Dozens of ships’ worth of reinforcements had arrived, led by the CSV Ark Royal and her battle group. General Barton, however, was conspicuously absent. Ruth hoped he had been relieved of command. I hate defeatists.

  Hanging over the bridge, however, was the death of Sheila. Ruth had grown to count her as a close friend in the seven months they had served together, but Sheila meant far more to David. They’d known each other since boot camp, nearly seventeen years ago. After his exit from the bridge, all of them knew that David’s spirit was crushed. Ruth had prayed for him and dearly hoped he would walk back through the hatch at the aft of the bridge to retake command. At least the rescue teams had located her body. It could be given the proper burial that she deserved.

  “Conn, Communications. I have General MacIntosh requesting a vidlink,” Taylor said.

  “Communications, route it to the command viewer.”

  A few seconds later, General MacIntosh’s face appeared on the viewer. His lips curled up with surprise as he realized Ruth was in the CO’s chair. “Lieutenant Goldberg, I didn’t expect to see you holding the conn. Where are Colonel Cohen and Major Thompson?”

  Ruth swallowed. “Sir, have you received the reports we passed back through the Ark Royal?”

  MacIntosh stared at her in a way that betrayed his impatience. “Nothing detailed, Lieutenant. All I know is that we won. Now, answer my question.”

  “Colonel Cohen is in his quarters, sir. Major Thompson was killed in action.”

  MacIntosh’s jaw dropped and hung there for a moment. “I see. I’m sorry, Lieutenant. What’s the status of the rest of the crew and the ship?”

  “We had light causalities, sir, mostly among our pilots and the Marines. The ship took some armor and hull damage, but we’re fine. Nothing a couple of days docked at Canaan station can’t fix,” Ruth said, focusing her mind elsewhere to avoid any display of emotion.

  “That is good to hear, Lieutenant. When are you jumping back to Canaan?”

  “As soon as we recover the last of our search and rescue craft, General.”

  “Very well. Please pass on my condolences to Colonel Cohen. I’ll be waiting for you all at the Canaan station. Godspeed. MacIntosh out.”

  The viewer shut off before Ruth could respond.

  She turned to Taylor. “Communications, signal our search and rescue unit. Please confirm they are returning to the ship and have completed their work.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Taylor said. A few moments later, he spoke again. “They should be back on board within thirty minutes, ma’am.”

  “Navigation, make ready to jump back to Canaan as soon as they’re fully on board.”

  “Aye, aye, ma’am.”

  The time seemed to pass by quickly for Ruth as the final wave of search and rescue craft c
ame back into the hangar bays. She reviewed the logs from the weapons and defensive systems during the engagement for the fiftieth time and was confident that, in the coming days, she could get better performance out of the ship’s new techology now that they had concrete data on how it performed in actual combat.

  Once the air boss had confirmed that the hangar was secured, Ruth said, “Navigation, are we ready to jump back to Canaan?”

  “Charged and ready to engage, ma’am.”

  “Navigation, engage Lawrence drive.”

  “Aye, aye, ma’am.”

  Hammond triggered the Lion’s massive Lawrence drive, opening an artificial wormhole directly in front of the mighty ship. Flying through the wormhole under sublight propulsion, the Lion crossed several lightyears of space in the blink of an eye.

  “Conn, Navigation. Wormhole transit complete. Emergence within two thousand kilometers of target.”

  “Navigation, put us into orbit around Canaan. Communications, signal Canaan space control, and request a berth at Canaan’s main shipyard,” Ruth ordered.

  Ruth’s commands were acknowledged, and she gave the order to dock at Canaan’s main shipyard.

  The third-watch tactical officer manning the tactical station turned back toward her. “Ma’am, I think you might want to see this.”

  Ruth raised an eyebrow at the young man, who was departing from bridge protocol. “What is it, Lieutenant?”

  “It would be best if I put up on our main viewer.”

  “Very well.”

  A moment later, the holoscreen came alive with images of the exterior of the ship. Dozens of ships—mostly CDF, some national state militaries of the CDF, and even civilian yachts—lined the route the Lion would take to her berth. As the Lion passed, each ship fired a tracer round from their magnetic cannons or a low-power neutron beam.

  The bridge crew watched in fascination as the multicolored salute went on and on. “Communications, transmit a picture of a broom to the fleet,” Ruth said.

  “Ma’am?”

  Ruth smiled. “Something Colonel Cohen did after a successful patrol on the Rabin. It’s the signal for a clean sweep—a completely successful mission in which we swept the enemy out of space.”

  Taylor grinned, as did a number of the personnel on the bridge. “Aye, aye, ma’am.”

  For the next hour, the bridge crew maneuvered the Lion into her berth, after which Ruth informed David that the ship was docked. He was still declining voice communications and remained in his cabin. She worried for him, but knew he needed space and time to grieve.

  * * *

  After the Lion was fully docked and secured, David received several messages from Ruth on his personal tablet, asking him to come to the bridge. Her final plea asked him to join the senior officers in the cargo bay to perform the ceremony to offload the fallen soldiers, as their caskets were the first to leave the ship.

  Staring ahead in a stupor, he ignored her messages. Over and over, he asked, Why? He couldn’t quite wrap his mind around why the one death had utterly wiped him out emotionally. Death knocked on the door every day. It was, as Seville had said, a constant companion to a soldier. But Sheila’s death was different.

  The door chime went off, interrupting his thoughts. When he ignored it, the chime went off again, then again.

  “Open!” he spat finally.

  The hatch to his cabin unlocked, and Calvin strode in. “Colonel.”

  “Colonel Demood.”

  “David, I know what this is like. I’ve led Marines into battle for many years. I’ve seen the horrors of war, and I’ve had men die in my arms.”

  “Sheila was more than just someone under my command. She was my best friend.”

  Calvin made his way over to the couch David was sitting on and took a seat beside him. “Maybe I haven’t had my best friend die under my command. I’ll give you that. Look, Cohen, you can sit down here with the lights off and allow yourself to be swallowed by the pain. Or you can stand up, walk out of here with me, and go show Major Thompson and the rest of those who died today the honor that they deserve.”

  Calvin’s words stung. David’s first reaction was to clap back, but he realized almost instantly that the man was right. Sitting there feeling sorry for himself was unbecoming, and if nothing else, it insulted Sheila’s memory. After a period of silence, he responded, “You’re right, Demood. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll join you in the hangar.”

  Calvin put his hand on David’s shoulder. “I’ll see you shortly, Colonel.”

  David watched Calvin walk out of his stateroom then forced himself to get up. He checked his uniform to ensure it was all properly fitted and within regulation, then he made his way to the hangar deck.

  During his fifteen-minute walk, he passed by hundreds of officers and enlisted crew members. All of them were seemingly energized, and morale was high. Since most didn’t know the XO was dead, nor did any of them have the same kind of connection, David knew their reactions were normal, but it still made him mad.

  The more he thought about the entire situation, the angrier he got. Reflecting on his decision not to fire on the escape pods detaching from the Destruction or to fire on the remaining League cruiser, David realized that he would have killed every last one of them if he could go back and change his decision.

  When he strode into the hangar bay, several dozen caskets were arrayed across the floor near the giant space doors. An honor guard had been assembled, and the onboard band was present. David walked down the four rows of caskets, each adorned with the flag of the Terran Coalition.

  Wondering which one was Sheila’s, he called out to the nearest enlisted crewman, “Corporal! Which one of these contains the remains of Major Thompson?”

  A ruddy-faced young man walked closer to David. “Sir! Please follow me.”

  After a short walk, the corporal gestured to a casket. “Major Thompson’s remains are in this one, sir.”

  Still angry and sullen, David replied, “Thank you, Corporal.”

  He spotted a single casket off to the side, its top uncovered. Furrowing his brow, David asked the young corporal, “Why does that casket lack a flag?”

  “Sir, that casket contains the remains of a contractor. Regulations state that—”

  “Which contractor, Corporal?”

  “Hadi Uzun, sir.”

  “The man that died on the transport?” He’d seen Calvin’s after-action report.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “The one man that kept thousands of POWs from being killed?” David asked, his voice growing louder.

  “Sir, it is against regulations—”

  “Do not quote regulations to me, Corporal!” David shouted. He was so close to losing control that he felt for the sidearm he’d been carrying earlier on his leg.

  “I’m sorry, sir.”

  “You will retrieve a flag and dress his casket with the proper respect it deserves. Are we clear, Corporal?”

  “Crystal, sir.”

  “Why are you still standing in front of me? Get moving, Corporal!”

  The young man scurried off as fast as he could.

  Calvin and Tinetariro, who had been watching the exchange, made their way over to David.

  “Are you okay, sir?” Calvin asked.

  “I’ll be okay, if that’s what you’re asking, Colonel.”

  “You seemed a little wound up there, sir.”

  “The least we can do is honor their sacrifices.”

  “Of course.”

  Calvin and Tinetariro exchanged glances.

  “Sir, I must remind you that Corporal Lewis was simply following regulations and orders,” Tinetariro said.”

  Anger swept through David as he considered her words. Control had begun to return, though, and he bit off the angry comment that had leapt to mind. “Of course, Master Chief.”

  David returned his gaze to Sheila’s casket. More than anything, he just wanted to see her one last time. It should be me in there. I should have gone
to fight the fire and died, not her. I deserve to die for all the pain and suffering I’ve caused through my actions. Not her. Forcing himself not to tear up, he turned and walked away from the rest of the people in the hangar and stared out of the force-shield-protected area where fighters and bombers were launched from.

  He wasn’t sure how long he’d stared out into space, considering the events of the last week. At some point, he was snapped out of his thoughts by someone speaking to him from behind.

  “Colonel,” Kenneth Lowe, the program manager for the contractors said quietly.

  It took David a few moments to process Kenneth’s presence and turn toward him. “Kenneth.”

  “Sir, I wanted to thank you for the respect extended to Hadi. He was a good man. One of my best field-electronics engineers.”

  “He deserved nothing less.”

  “It’s been an honor, sir.” Kenneth extended his hand.

  David shook it firmly. “That feels like goodbye.”

  “You’re not the only one who has a knack for breaking regulations, sir,” Kenneth said with levity.

  “You weren’t supposed to stay on the ship after we put into space?”

  “No, sir. I was specifically ordered not to do that.”

  “If you hadn’t, we wouldn’t be here. Only God knows how bad it would have been.”

  “That doesn’t matter to SSI leadership. I’ve been given a choice between termination or resigning.”

  David turned around fully to face Kenneth. “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

  “No, sir. Don’t worry. You’re in good hands with my deputy. He and the rest of the team will see you through.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Kenneth. How are you going to fight it?”

  “Honestly, sir, I can’t, in good conscience, continue to work for the man I report to. I’m going to resign. That’ll make it easier to find another job. Perhaps someone will want to hire me. I’ll be back on CDF special programs in a week.” At the sight of a frown from David, Kenneth pressed on. “It’s okay, sir. The only thing that counts is the mission.”