by Daniel Gibbs
“General Okafor, my operational plan will be dictated by whatever means we devise to defeat the League mines. As of now, we don’t have a solution to that problem. Every tactical officer, technician, science officer, and engineering contractor we can spare in this fleet is reviewing the data we recorded during the engagement for a solution.”
“If there’s no plan, I must question the wisdom of keeping our fleet so close to major League force concentrations, Mr. President.”
“It would take days to get back to the nearest major shipyards, General Oakfor. Colonel Cohen is right; if we’re taking another bite at the apple, we do it now. If we take the time to have the fleet fall back and effect full repairs, we might never again get this opportunity,” Spencer replied. God, I hope I’m right. If I make the wrong choice here, the Terran Coalition will be screwed beyond all belief. We’d lose the war in one fell swoop.
“Exactly, sir,” David piped up. “The plan is simple; defeat the mines. Simple, but not an easy task. I propose we go to EMCON alpha and contact you all at a predetermined time tomorrow for an updated briefing on the situation.” EMCON referred to emissions control. Setting the fleet to EMCON alpha would disable all communications or electronic transmissions that could give away its location.
“Chief Minister, what are your thoughts?” Spencer asked Obe.
Obe was silent for a moment before raising his head. “Today has been a dark day. But I concur with Colonel Cohen’s assessment. To turn tail and slither away from the League now… no. We cannot. Regardless of the cost, we must press on and destroy the League installation and her fleet.”
“If we take another shot at Unity Station, and we’re wrong about whatever we come up with to defeat the mines, we might lose the entirety of the Terran Coalition and the Saurian Empire’s ships. As a professional military officer for nearly forty years, I can’t in any way endorse this course of action,” Okafor interjected with a raised voice.
“As you were, General,” Fernandez said with a firm voice of command. “Mr. President, what are your orders?”
I’m not sure why anyone would want this job. Because I had no idea how hard it was going to be. “Chief Minister, if you agree, I want the fleet to stay where it’s at, formulate a plan to defeat the League minefield, and check in with us tomorrow at 1600 hours. Do you concur?”
Obe nodded. “Absolutely.”
“Then that’s what we’re doing, General Fernandez.”
“Yes, sir. In that case, we’ll need to brevet Colonel Cohen to brigadier general for the duration of this mission. We don’t have a flag officer on site, and if Admiral Kartal felt he was the right man to lead the fleet, I have no objection.”
“I’m happy to approve, General,” Spencer replied.
“Very well sir. Colonel Cohen, consider yourself breveted to the rank of brigadier general until the fleet returns to Canaan. Formal orders will be transmitted to all ships in the fleet. Before we sign off, is there anything we can do for you?”
“Sirs,” Kenneth began. “I have a request, if I may.”
“Mr. Lowe, was it?” Spencer asked.
“Uh, yes, Mr. President.”
“Go ahead.”
“Well, sirs, I believe we have several mobile raider tenders within Lawrence drive range. I’d like to request they be tasked to jump in and help support the fleet. They’re the closest thing we have to a mobile shipyard.”
Spencer glanced quizzically at Fernandez. “Is that accurate?”
He, in turn, looked behind his chair to the row of colonels and majors sitting in the second-tier chairs. “Major Andrews, do you know what he’s talking about?”
“Yes, sir. He’s right; they’re parked in deep space. If we move them, we’ll disrupt logistical interdiction missions.”
“If they’ll help the fleet in its repairs, that is the paramount objective above all else. General, task them to support our fleet,” Spencer said.
“Aye aye, sir.”
“I think there’s only one thing left before we sign off. Ladies and gentlemen, would you join me in prayer?” Spencer said as he glanced around the room.
Spencer was a devout Christian, and he found himself on his knees daily, begging for God’s intercession on behalf of the entire Canaan Alliance. After he held his hands out, Obe and Dunleavy both took his hand in theirs, while they reached out their hands in turn. After a few seconds, the entire table was holding hands together. He bowed his head. “Lord, please hear our prayer. Today didn’t go the way we thought it would. I can’t know your plan or your will, but I beg you to guide us toward it. Please help us in our battle against the League of Sol. We can do all things through You, who strengthens us. Bless the men and women who go into battle, shield them and help them to defeat this foe. In Jesus name, we pray, amen.” God help us all.
There was a chorus of amens throughout the room and from those on the vidlink. “Godspeed, gentlemen. We’ll see you again tomorrow at 1600 CMT.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, Mr. President, and Godspeed to you too,” David replied.
The vidlink cut out, leaving the room very still. “Thank you for coming, everyone. I’m sure we all have jobs to do, so I’ll let you all get back to it,” Spencer said, standing from his chair. The rest of those assembled stood with him and began to walk toward the exits. Spencer looked toward Dunleavy. “What do you think our chances are, Colton?”
“If General Cohen and his team can figure out a way to defeat the mines, I think they’re even. If not, there’s not a snowball's chance in hell of cracking that nut. This is a game-changer, Mr. President. God help us all if they can make them in high enough quantities to seed the space around our main planets. We’d lose the war in a matter of weeks,” Dunleavy replied.
“Then General Cohen had better succeed,” Spencer stated with some level of false bravado. “Carry on, gentlemen.”
15
“Master Chief, where’s that network specialist?” Kenneth Lowe yelled out of an engineering tube on the CSV Juno, an Ajax class destroyer. He’d taken the last team out himself to help with repairs. It was everyone on deck for the push to repair the fleet.
“She’s on the way, sir,” Harold Billings called from outside the tube.
“I can’t remember how to recouple these relays back together.”
“Ah, for the days we did real work.”
“May they never be departed.”
Kenneth heard another voice, a female one outside of the tube. “Yolanda Cooper, network specialist. Did someone call a nerd?”
“I did indeed,” Kenneth shouted. “Remind me what the pattern for an RJ-813 connection on the tactical network is?”
“Orange, orange-white, green, blue, purple, purple-white, green-white, blue-white, brown, brown-white. Make sure that brown is properly seated… it's always the hardest to get in there.”
Kenneth quickly stripped the cable, slotted into the jack in the proper order, and used a crimping tool to lock it down. A moment later, he snapped the connector into the jack and was rewarded with a blinking green light. “Okay, we’ve got a good connection down here,” he called back.
“Look at that, a manager who can turn a wrench,” Billings yelled.
Kenneth began to scoot back down the tube; his extreme height of over two meters made it challenging to navigate anything on a ship, especially tight engineering spaces. Emerging from it to find Billings and Yolanda standing there waiting for him, he smiled and pulled himself upright once more.
“Thanks, guys. What’s next on our punch list?”
“That’ll be up on the bridge, sir; ensuring that all tactical network nodes are synched up and able to control the weapons,” Billings said.
“Sounds like we could use a network engineer on that one too. Care to follow along, Miss Cooper?”
“Of course, sir. I’m just happy being on a different ship. Getting to the bridge is a bonus,” Yolanda replied, beaming from ear to ear.
As she walked off toward the neares
t gravlift, Kenneth glanced at Billings. “Excited, much?”
“Takes all kinds, sir.”
“That it does, Master Chief.” One problem down… three hundred more to go.
Walking into the shul on the Lion, David pulled his cover on; he didn’t have his yarmulke with him nor was there enough time to collect it from his cabin. However, he had to cover his head in the presence of God. There were more than a few of the ship’s assorted Jewish crewmembers present; as it was past the end of the day for most, and while everyone was pulling double shifts, it made sense that many would come to search God after the terrible events of the day. Rabbi Kravitz was speaking with a small group of crewmembers, behind which David waited patiently. After finishing, the old rabbi turned toward him.
“Colonel Cohen!” Kravitz exclaimed, then did a double take. “General?”
David shook his head in sadness. “Just a brevet rank. I’ve been ordered to take command of the fleet, in the absence of Admiral Kartal.”
“I see. It would make sense to promote you to avoid any squabbles. How’re you holding up?”
“Truthfully, Rabbi? I’m still shell-shocked,” David began, lowering his voice so that those around couldn’t hear him. “It will take some time to process this disaster. I wonder why God would allow this to happen to us.”
“If you ever figure that out, let me know, would you?” Kravitz replied with his trademark wry grin, but he was unable to keep up the brave front. “Truth be told, I thought for sure that today our prayers would be answered and we would smash the League once and for all, all the way back to Earth.”
“Same here, Rabbi. But it’s our job to soldier on, mine especially. I need your help…” David said.
“A funeral for the dead?”
“Yes, but given how many have died, I would like to represent all of our major faiths, including the secular humanists.”
“Of course, General. Any particular order to the service?”
David shook his head sadly. “No, just try to highlight some of the best among of us, those taken too soon. It’s the least we can do for them.”
Kravitz stared at him in a way that felt like he was looking into his soul. “You can’t take the blame of this onto yourself, David. Do the best you can, search for God, and keep the faith.”
“I’ll try, Rabbi, I’ll try.”
Kravitz nodded his understanding. “If I may, there are many more to minister to.”
“Of course, thank you, Rabbi,” David responded, stepping back and allowing Kravitz to move on. He tried to force himself to keep going, one foot in front of the other. David knew if he stopped to start thinking about the events of the day, he’d overthink it and have an emotional response. Of all the things I can afford today, emotions aren’t one of them. He turned and walked out of the shul.
Doctor Benjamin Hayworth leaned over the computer console he was working at and pressed a button to engage another simulation. He’d been at it for six hours already, with no positive results. The cheerful voice of Major Elizabeth Merriweather filtered through the noise in the room. “Doctor, how’s it going?”
Hayworth turned around in his chair to face her, wearing a total scowl. “It’s not going bloody well, Eliza. I haven’t yet been able to determine how to get our sensors to identify the mines before they go active. I wish I had a sample or two to experiment with.”
“I don’t see us getting a couple of deactivated League mines, Doctor,” Merriweather said with a bright smile. “How are you holding up?”
“Oh, about as well as I could on a ship full of theists that are beset by wondering why God didn’t help them win,” Hayworth replied, rolling his eyes at the same time. I do get tired of all the constant God this, God that. Isn’t one of the maxims of Christianity that God helps those who help themselves? Bah, children.
“You don’t have to keep up the constant wisecracks, you know.”
Hayworth grimaced slightly as he replied; he thought of Merriweather as the daughter he never had. “I’m sorry, my dear. I’m not at my best right now.”
Merriweather sat down on a chair at a vacant terminal. “One of my friends died in the outer hull…” she said, a tear forming in her eyes. “I saw her a couple of days ago.” Sadness broke through her cheerful exterior, and she started to cry.
Hayworth stood up and made his way across the room, wrapping his arms around her. “I’m sorry, dear. I’m very sorry. It’s just this damned war.”
“I thought we were going to end it finally, you know?”
“I did too. The damn Leaguers inventing something better than us… I didn’t see that coming.”
Merriweather used her uniform sleeve to wipe her tears. “Where are you stuck?”
Hayworth gestured to his console. “The problem is that in reviewing our sensor logs, without the mines active, there’s nothing to target, and we have limited information about where the minefield is. The stealth plating is fiendishly clever; it doesn’t allow our targeting scanners to lock on. The scanning systems we use to do real science can see them, but those sensors aren’t integrated into our fire control systems. I spoke to one of the contractors about linking them and was told that’s impossible without an overhaul and extensive testing.”
“I wonder if there’s a way to jam the mines… to prevent them from being put into active mode?” Merriweather asked.
“You’re thinking a broad-spectrum jamming field?”
“Yes… the Marines use those on planetside ops to protect against enemy-guided munitions. No different here.”
Hayworth shook his head. “Not a bad idea, but the power output required for it would be incredible.”
“Well, we’re on the only ship in the fleet with a working anti-matter reactor…”
“I’ll run some simulations,” Hayworth replied with a chuckle.
“The funeral service for those lost is going to begin soon. Why don’t you set this aside and join me?” Merriweather asked him.
“It’s not my cup of tea, dear. I respect your views, but I have no place there.”
“General Cohen has invited a secular humanist to speak… so that’s not a valid excuse, Doctor.”
A bit refreshing of him. “Well, if it’s important to you—"
“Yes, it is,” she said pointedly.
“Then I’ll be there. Run along and let me get these simulations going.”
“Thank you, Doctor.”
“Of course, dear,” Hayworth replied with a genuine smile on his face.
16
At the hour appointed for the interfaith funeral service to recognize the souls lost in the battle over the League space station, David and the rest of the senior officers of the Lion of Judah were seated on a stage that had been erected inside of the central hangar bay onboard the ship. The space superiority fighters, bombers, and Marine transports had been moved to secondary hangars and storage areas so they could accommodate as many as possible. He’d insisted that shuttles bring representatives from every ship in the fleet in hopes the service could minister to everyone. The Saurians sent a delegation but had opted to have their own religious service. David was gratified they’d attended in a show of unity.
To David’s right sat several ministers, including Rabbi Kravitz; to his left was Aibek and Ruth. Behind them were other officers including Calvin, Amir, and Doctor Tural. At David’s nod, Kravitz stood. He was to speak first; it was CDF tradition that the chaplain of the commanding officer’s faith was always the first to pray or speak at a religious function.
Kravitz walked swiftly to the podium; while wearing his dress uniform, he also wore a tallit gadol, or prayer shawl, along with his yarmulke. David marveled at how the old rabbi always managed to look the part, even in the most dire hour.
“I’d like to start today by thanking everyone who made the trip to the Lion of Judah to honor those who fell in battle. As a Jew, I believe death is the end of one journey and the beginning of another. That’s little consolation to those left here, e
specially in a time such as this,” Kravitz began. “Today, I’ll speak in English, as this is our common language, and so our non-Jewish brothers and sisters may hear and be ministered to. Let us pray,” he continued.
Nearly everyone in the vast space bowed their heads, and Kravitz pressed on. “Eternal Father, strong to save, may it be Your will, God, our God and the God of our fathers that You should lead us in peace and direct our steps in peace, and guide us in peace, and support us in peace, and cause us to reach our destination in life, joy, and peace.”
David recognized the prayer immediately as the traditional Jewish travelers’ prayer.
“Save us from every enemy and ambush, from snares and from the League, from the punishments that rage and come into Your universe to attack Your faithful. May You confer blessing upon the work of our hands and grant us grace, kindness, and mercy in Your eyes. Blessed are You, our God, who hears our prayers.”
David raised his head along with the rest of those on the platform. Trying to focus on the rabbi’s words, he found doubt attacking his soul.
“I’d like to speak to you today about the twenty-third Psalm. It’s well known throughout most of the religions of our nation and contains many important promises from God to us. I believe those promises count for every human being and sentient alien in this galaxy. You see, David wrote this psalm during a particularly bad season of life. He was hunted, persecuted, and if he’d been captured, he would’ve been killed out of hand. But he was doing what God asked of him, and because of that, God comforted and blessed him. We see this in the text that says the Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. If we are willing to go where God leads, He will care for us, guide us, as a shepherd does for the flock he is entrusted in.”
While Kravitz took a breath, David glanced around the room at the solemn faces with dark circles under their eyes. I doubt anyone here hasn’t broken down in tears.
“The next passage is equally important. He causes me to lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul; He leads me in the paths of righteousness for His name’s sake. As I minister to the men and women of this fleet, I think we could all do with some shore leave on a planet with green pastures and still waters,” Kravitz continued, smiling. “God realizes that our soul requires nourishment as well as our bodies. In this, David recognized that God was constantly walking with him. he continued by saying that even as he walks through the valley of the shadow of death, he will fear no evil, because God is with him, His rod and His staff, they comfort us. All of us have walked through the shadow of death in the last two days. Most of us have walked through it for years —some most of their lives. Death isn’t an abstract thought or something to be thought of once we reach old age. It is a constant risk of our occupation, and a fear that never leaves our sides.”