by Daniel Gibbs
Seville rolled his eyes. “I don’t have time for this crap.”
“I’ll handle it for you, Admiral.”
“Thank you, Colonel Strappi.”
“Of course, sir. Should I leave you?”
“Yes. I need some time alone to consider how we can draw out the Terrans and inflict a final, crushing blow.”
“Yes, sir,” Strappi said, standing and walking out of the room. Seville watched the hatch close and went back to his brooding thoughts. Once the minefield is fully reseeded, any attack they make will be futile. We need to tempt them into attacking us once more.
19
Three hundred lightyears away from the Lion and the rest of the joint fleet, the CSV Oxford and her merry band of intelligence analysts, led by Colonel Robert Sinclair, continued with their essential work. Striding onto the central operations center floor, with a mug of tea fitted with a spill-proof cover, Sinclair surveyed the team hard at work. He glanced up at the motto of the CDF Intelligence service, “In God we trust, all others we monitor,” which hung proudly from a banner in the ceiling of the cavernous room. Recent reports indicated that the fleet had taken a severe beating at Unity Station, but actual details were scant. First Lieutenant Alon Tamir motioned him over to his workstation with a wave.
“Colonel, do you have a minute, sir?” Tamir asked.
Sinclair slid into an empty chair next to Tamir’s station. “What do you have for me, Lieutenant?”
“We’ve been picking up a ton of League chatter coming into and out of Unity Station, sir. Making heads or tails of it has been difficult with that new encryption protocol they’ve been using.”
Sinclair nodded. The League sure had picked the wrong time to start getting some basic technologies right. “Tell me something I don’t already know,” he remarked in his perfectly British-accented voice.
“The energy associated with some of these transmissions is off the charts. There were at least two communications with Earth that contained real-time video links,” Tamir said, pride imbuing his voice.
Sinclair’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you sure?”
Tamir nodded, tapping some keys on his station and pulling up a chart. “See here, sir? As I said, the power output is off the chart. The only thing it could be is direct video link back to Earth or an equidistant point in space. Earth is the most likely target, especially combined with the vector the signal was going out toward.”
“Conclusions, then?”
“I believe that Admiral Seville was having a direct conversation with someone very high up in the League. Most likely the Social and Public Safety Committee.”
“No decryption of the conversation yet?”
“No, sir, and we won’t have it for several days. I do, though, have decryptions of some loose discussions between League ship captains in the fleet assigned to Unity Station. They constantly make reference to Seville wanting to keep them tied to the station. A group of them wants to hunt for us. This is a guess, which fits the facts, but is still only a guess… I think the Social and Public Safety Committee wants Seville to send out the dogs. Seville rightly believes he’s strongest at Unity Station and is daring us to take another shot at him.”
Sinclair found himself nodding again; Tamir’s conclusions, while taking several steps beyond what they had evidence for, were logical. More than that, over the time they’d served together, Tamir had rarely been wrong. He’d grown to trust him and the at times unique insights he saw in masses of raw intelligence data. “How many more ships has Seville gotten?”
Tamir shook his head. “He hasn’t made up for the ones we destroyed, but he’s received at least a hundred and fifty as reinforcements. Even without the mines, I don’t see how the forces we have are going to be able to win with anything like acceptable losses.”
“We need to get this information to Colonel Cohen. Can you patch us in from here?”
“Yes, sir,” Tamir answered; every station in the operations center had comms capabilities. He tapped a few keys, and they waited. “I’m not getting a response from the Lion, sir.”
“Most likely because they’re at EMCON,” Sinclair said, answering the unspoken question. “And they’re not going to break it, no matter what our message is. What rally point did they transit to?”
“Bravo, sir. The entire fleet is at rally point bravo.”
“Then that’s where we’re going. Keep working on the decryption, Lieutenant. I’ll be on the bridge getting this tub’s location changed.”
“Aye aye, sir!” Tamir replied crisply.
The most senior officers on the Lion, including Aibek, Amir, Calvin, and David, had assembled for a video link back to Canaan. Colonel Ronald Meier and Lieutenant Robert Taylor, in his capacity as David’s flag staff, were also in attendance. The purpose was to brief General MacIntosh on their progress.
David apprehensively looked across the room. While the team had a good plan, he was determined to request reinforcements and try to obtain replacement fighters, bombers, and Marines. “Lieutenant,” he began, addressing Taylor. “For this meeting only, we’ll drop our EMCON status. Punch up General MacIntosh, please.”
“Aye aye, sir,” Taylor replied crisply, pulling up what amounted to a galaxy-wide version of an old-school video conference, and engaging the link.
After a moment, General MacIntosh’s face appeared; it looked from the background to David like the general was in his office.
“Greetings, gentlemen,” MacIntosh began without preamble.
“Good morning, sir,” David replied. “We’ve got an update for you on our progress.”
“Very good. Time is a commodity we don’t have a lot of, so let’s get started.”
“Yes, sir. Our team has been working around the clock on this problem. Bottom line up front is we believe the solution is to use our commando unit to storm the League space station and disable the mines at their place of control.”
MacIntosh stared intently at them through the screen. “Sounds extremely high risk, General. Walk me through it.”
“The plan, sir, is they will breach the control room for the mines, which we have pinpointed with a high degree of accuracy, and use a high energy communication burst to contact us… then the fleet will begin its assault.”
“How many combat-effective ships do you have, General?” MacIntosh asked.
“Over ninety percent of them, sir. We continue to suffer from shortages of pilots, small craft, and Marines. I’m hopeful you can divert some to us to plus up our ranks.”
MacIntosh shook his head. “President Spencer and Chief Minister Obe have been convinced by the heads of their various militaries that we can’t afford to send reinforcements. This happens with what you’ve got or not at all. I’ll transmit our latest and greatest intelligence reports, but one fact concerns me. Seville’s gotten nearly two hundred more ships since the battle. Can you take that kind of force on, even without the mines in play?”
David’s face became ashen as he ran the numbers in his mind. “Sir, the rate of loss would be unacceptable. We’d be on almost equal terms again. Can we go to President Spencer together and argue for the home defense fleet to be sent?”
“Absolutely not, General Cohen,” MacIntosh replied with a tone of finality.
“Sir—”
“It's not happening. The home defense fleet is the only thing standing between an invasion of Canaan and the League if you fail. Politically, it’d be suicide for the president. The press would have a field day. It's out of the question, General,” MacIntosh said in a heated tone.
David furrowed his brow and nodded in return. “I understand, sir. What about fighter pilots and Marines? We don’t have enough to storm Unity Station, especially on the Marine side.”
“At the rate of reinforcement that Seville is getting, there’s not enough time for us to get more pilots, small craft, and Marines to you. What you’ve got is all you’ll get, General. Look, I know it’s a lot of pressure. If we can’t win now, there’s
nothing wrong with telling me that. We’ll pull back and try again later. They can’t move the damn station on us.”
There won’t be a later. At the rate Seville gets new ships, he’ll overwhelm us within a year. “No, sir, we’ll figure it out.”
“I must caution you again, General. We’re running out of time.”
“Yes, sir. We have a scheduled briefing in six hours to the Joint Chiefs of Staff and our two leaders. We’ll be ready.”
“See you are. I’ll warn you right now, there’s a faction in the Joint Chiefs that want to call this off, pull the fleet back, and lick our wounds. I agree with you, the time to strike is right now, and it’ll never be better. Whatever you put together, make sure it can survive having a lot of people trying to poke holes in it. Most of it all, make sure it’ll work to the best of your abilities, General.”
“Aye aye, sir,” David replied crisply.
“Godspeed, General, MacIntosh out.”
A moment later, MacIntosh’s face disappeared from the viewer, and they were all left in silence. Aibek spoke first. “General, perhaps I could convince Saurian high command to send additional resources...”
“No. MacIntosh is right. If we can’t win with what we’ve got, we’d endanger our entire civilization by pulling out our last defensive forces. What sucks about this is it’s a simple math problem. Our resources are finite, his aren’t, and there’s a curve going here that I don’t like. Before too long, he’ll be unstoppable if left to gather strength.” David glanced at the clock on the wall and shook his head. “We’d better get back to it, gentlemen. Colonel Meier, thank you for coming over. Please brief the fleet on our progress, and I’d appreciate it if you could stick around. I’d like you in on our planning meeting later today.”
Calvin cleared his throat. “General, if I may… we need to get additional trigger pullers or we’re not storming Unity.”
“Any thoughts on where we’d get them from?”
“Well, sir, I’d like to ask for volunteers. Lots of ship’s security personnel in the fleet, and there’s more than a few former Marines who’ve transferred to the fleet.”
David nodded his approval. “I like that idea. You may proceed.”
“Thank you, sir,” Calvin replied.
“Any saved rounds, gents?” David asked the room at large; there were no takers. “Alright then, dismissed.” As he stood, so did the rest of those assembled. Walking out of the conference room, he found Calvin right behind him and walking with purpose.
“Mind if I accompany you to the bridge, General?”
“Not in the least,” David replied, though his eyebrow was raised. Calvin typically didn’t go to the bridge unless asked.
“I’d like to use the 1MC to request volunteers.”
“Ah, of course. That would be the best way to reach everyone at the same time.”
Walking together to the nearest gravlift, David tried to engage in a conversation. “How are you holding up?”
“I’ll be fine, sir,” Calvin replied as the doors for the lift slid open.
“Deck one,” David said after they entered the lift and stood back from the doors. “That’s not an answer, Cal.”
Calvin sighed. “I don’t like talking about it. But if you must know, that was the single greatest loss of life under my command I’ve ever endured.”
“I know how it feels,” David began, looking over at him. “It doesn’t get easier.”
“But it gets numb, you know? The daily loss of a life here, a life there. We learn to get over it. It stops affecting us.”
I envy that…it never stopped affecting me. “We have to soldier on,” David replied. “We’re close, Cal. I know we are. This time, we’re taking the station.”
“A lot of Marines are going to die storming that place,” Calvin said with a tinge of regret in his voice.
“A lot of us are going to die, period. But far more will die if we don’t succeed. Right?”
“Damn right, General,” Calvin retorted, and just for a moment, the cocky Marine was back. “We’ll make as many of them die for their country as possible before we start dying for ours.”
David slapped Calvin on the back. “Exactly.” The lift came to a halt, and the doors slid open.
As they walked quickly down the passageway toward the bridge, the two Marines who guarded the door came to attention and saluted; both David and Calvin returned their salutes upon pulling on their covers.
David gestured to the communications station. “Proceed, Colonel.”
“Aye aye, sir!”
David addressed the relief communications officer. “Lieutenant, please patch Colonel Demood into 1MC.”
“Aye aye, sir!” was the prompt reply from the young woman.
Calvin took up position behind the communications station and spoke into the provided microphone. “Attention, all hands, this is Colonel Demood, Terran Coalition Marine Corps. As you may know, the Marines took a lot of casualties in the first attack on Unity Station. As we prepare to assault it again, General Cohen and I have realized our Marine contingent lacks the numbers to have a realistic chance of success. So I come to the men and women of the Lion of Judah, and I challenge anyone who has the courage to put their life on the line to report to cargo bay two at sixteen hundred hours shipboard time today. Regardless of your occupation, rank, or even if you’re a civilian, as long as you’re willing to stand and fight and can operate a standard battle rifle, you won’t be turned away. Do not think this will be easy. Many of us who assault this installation won’t come home, but it’s essential to the success of our mission for us to capture the station. Carry on, Demood out.”
After he finished speaking, Calvin stepped back from the communications station and turned to face David. “Thank you, sir. I hope we’ll have enough volunteers.”
David nodded. “Something tells me, Colonel, there’s no shortage of people on this ship that want a piece of the League, and out of all of the ships in our fleet, we’re uniquely overstaffed, so we can contribute additional personnel.”
“Permission to depart the bridge, sir?”
“Granted, Colonel,” David responded.
Calvin braced to attention before turning on his heel and departing.
David turned toward at the CO’s chair and saw Aibek held the conn. “XO, this is CO. I have the conn,” he invoked formally, walking over to his chair.
“Aye, sir, Colonel Cohen has the conn.” Aibek stood and moved one chair over.
David grinned as he sat down. “Anything to report, XO?”
“We’re doing excellent on the repairs. Ninety-two percent of our ships are now as combat capable as the engineering teams, and contractors feel they can be without drydock time.”
We’re getting there. It’s not perfect, and it won’t be easy, but we’re getting there. Settling back into his seat, he girded himself for the next two hours of watch standing before the next major meeting they had to discuss how to deal with the League’s reinforcements.
20
Three hours later, David was still standing watch on the bridge, watching the various damage reports come in and checking damaged ships off his list as the contractors and engineering staff completed all repairs that they could accomplish in space. Bringing in the Raider tenders had been an inspired idea after all. While it might hurt their ability to take out League resupply freighters, the ships had spare parts and engineering teams that were vital to their efforts. Even better, the tenders had the ability to manufacture parts and entire fighters. This allowed for the repair of large amounts of fighters and bombers that would have otherwise been unusable. So many small craft were now operational, they couldn’t find enough pilots to man them all.
Good problems to have, especially right now. This crazy plan might come together if we could figure out how to overcome Seville’s fleet or get it to move away from the station.
David’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Ruth’s voice. “Conn, TAO!” she shouted. “Wormh
ole forming, thirty thousand kilometers off the starboard bow!”
Immediately on task, David instinctively sat up straighter in his chair. “TAO, set condition one throughout the ship!”
Per the normal combat evolution, the lights on the bridge immediately dimmed to a dark blue hue, while Ruth continued to report. “Conn, TAO! Condition one set throughout the ship! Sir, wormhole signature confirmed as CDF. New contact, designated as Sierra One… CSV Oxford, sir!”
Aibek exchanged a double-take with David. “What in blazes is the Oxford doing here, sir? She’s a deep space spy ship,” Aibek said.
David smirked. “What in the blazes? Your attempts at sounding more human…”
“Are lacking?”
“Well, unless you’re trying to sound like someone from a holomovie of the late twenty-second century.”
Aibek grinned in the toothy Saurian way. “I’ll try harder.”
David laughed. “I suppose we should find out why they’re here. Communications, signal the Oxford on a tight beam transmission. No leakage.”
“Aye aye, sir!” Taylor replied, and a few moments passed. “Sir, I have Colonel Sinclair for you.”
The monitor above David’s head snapped to life with an image of Sinclair standing in the operations center onboard the Oxford. “General, eh, Cohen? Good to see you again.”
“I wish it was under better circumstances, Colonel Sinclair. What can I do for you? We’re surprised to see you off station.”
“You haven’t been responding to communications attempts. When we contacted CDF command, they informed us you’d gone into EMCON status. So I decided to come to you. We have vital information you need to hear. Permission to come aboard with one of my analysts?”
David glanced at Aibek, taking in his puzzled expression, before turning back to Sinclair’s image on the monitor. “Granted. I’ll get my senior staff together, and we’ll meet in the briefing room as soon as you dock.”
“Excellent, Colonel. We’ll see you in fifteen minutes.”