“Good. With your permission, I must now see to my injuries.”
“Permission granted, Zhang. Goodbye.”
Zhang’s visual disappeared, but Admiral Wilson kept the comms open. “The war is finally over,” Carter said.
Admiral Wilson regarded him with a small smile. “Not yet, Ambassador.”
Alexander gaped at the admiral. “You’re planning to fire on a surrendered enemy. That’s against military law, Admiral. They’re noncombatants now.”
Wilson cocked his head. “Military law? Out here I am the law, and I’m calling the shots Captain.”
Alexander looked away from the hologram to address his crew. “Cardinal! Belay those orders. You will not fire on the enemy.”
“Captain, if you disobey that order, you and your entire crew will be tried for treason.”
Alexander set his jaw. “Maybe. Maybe not—Hayes mute that channel.”
“Aye, Captain.”
Carter turned to him, eyes wide and looking shocked.
“Hayes, send an update to the rest of our fleet. Let them know that we’re disobeying orders, and why. Suggest they do the same.”
“Too late…” Carter whispered, pointing to a tactical map he’d brought up from his station. Bright red laser beams lanced out and drew pinpricks of fire from the enemy formation.
Alexander shook his head, stunned that no one else had disobeyed Wilson’s order. “Hayes, unmute the comms. I want to hear what Wilson has to say for himself.”
“Aye-aye…”
“Admiral—”
“Let me stop you before you make things any worse for yourself, Captain.”
“You lied!” Alexander snapped.
“Of course, I lied. I’m sure they lied, too. We were just better at it.”
Alexander shook his head. “They didn’t need to die.”
“Are you a hunter, Captain?”
“No.”
“Then perhaps you wouldn’t understand. If you’re going to shoot a bear, you better shoot to kill, and if you wound one, you better hope you get a second shot. The only thing worse than turning your back on an enemy is turning your back on a wounded enemy.”
“They were already defeated. We could have gained ten warships!”
“We also could have lost ten.”
“You never planned to accept their surrender, so why even bother involving us in the negotiations?”
“Because bringing Carter into things made it look like we were willing to negotiate. Meanwhile, we were busy aiming our guns. There is a reason I’m an admiral and you’re a captain, Captain. War is no place for ethics, and you are an ethical man. Unfortunately, our enemies have no regard for what’s noble or right, only what is expedient and logical. From the start we have been forced to behave in exactly the same way as them and do things which seem terrible to us in order to achieve our ends.
“They bred themselves for war, so it came naturally for them, but we had to learn our killer instincts. It was nature versus nurture and nurture won. There’s a lesson in that.”
Alexander ground his teeth, but said nothing. This entire engagement left a bad taste in his mouth.
“I’m going to do you a favor, Captain. You’ve served your country well, so rather than focus on the one thing you did wrong, I’m going to focus on all the things you did right and pretend that you didn’t just disobey a direct order.”
Alexander nodded, unable to muster a verbal reply. He was still too angry, and he was afraid anything he said at this point would sound insubordinate.
“No apologies necessary,” Wilson said, as if he thought Alexander had been about to offer one. “Hopefully you’ve learned enough from this engagement to make the hard decisions without me having to hold your hand in future. Now it’s time to turn the fleet around and set course for Earth in case they need our help mopping up. Stand by to receive new nav inputs.”
“Aye.” Alexander saluted stiffly as the holo projection faded. He let out a long sigh and switched his focus to more immediate concerns.
“McAdams, what’s our status?”
“Lots of minor hull damage still being repaired, but all sections are re-pressurized. Some noncritical systems remain offline, but otherwise we’re all green.”
“How about the MHD?” he asked, staring at the large, blank screen dead ahead that should have been showing a star-dappled view from the Lincoln’s bow cameras
“That’s one of the noncritical systems, sir.”
“Great. Stone, do we have any fighters in the 61st still alive out there?”
“Just one pilot, sir. Should I recall him now?”
“Please. Who is it?”
“Ryder.”
Alexander was tempted to smile at that, but then he noticed the ragged gash where Davorian should have been seated. They might have won the war, but victory was bittersweet. They’d all lost a lot. He raised his voice to address the crew. “Good job everyone. The war’s over. Time for us to go home.”
A few of the crew nodded silently, and others made unenthusiastic comments. Alexander couldn’t blame them. They’d been gone so long, what did they even have to go back to? Most of them had lost friends and family in the war, and even those who hadn’t, had lost them to the slow march of time and hearts moving on.
Alexander’s gaze fell on the back of McAdams’ helmet, and he wondered what her plans were now that they didn’t technically have to remain in the navy. Maybe it was time he found out. He looked over to Carter, planning to reduce readiness from general quarters to condition yellow and leave Carter with the conn so he could take a break and attend to personal matters, but something about the way his XO was staring fixedly at the blank screen of the MHD made him frown.
“Something on your mind, Carter?”
The man turned to look at him with wide, lifeless blue eyes. He looked haunted. “What have we done?” he asked.
Alexander’s frown deepened. Maybe Carter had taken that last act of betrayal harder than Alexander had thought.
“You wouldn’t be human if you didn’t feel bad, but we took a stand, Commander, so whatever blame there is, it falls squarely on Admiral Wilson’s shoulders.”
“No, you don’t understand. There’s still millions of Confederate soldiers back on Earth, and if they all decide to become rebels and terrorists, we could be in for a lot of trouble.”
“Maybe they’ll surrender,” Alexander suggested.
“Not after they learn what Admiral Wilson did.”
“How would they learn about that?”
“They already have. Admiral Zhang was busy communicating his surrender to the Confederate Chancellor when we destroyed the enemy fleet. President Baker just contacted me from Earth, asking what the hell we were thinking. Previously surrendered Confederate troops back on Earth have begun turning hostile again.”
Alexander blinked. “I thought the president was with the fleet.”
Carter shook his head. “That was just a rumor we spread to make the Confederates believe we were committed to reaching Wonderland.”
“Well… shit. This isn’t good.”
Carter nodded. “It’s going to be a long road to repair the damage Wilson did by pretending to accept Zhang’s surrender. He should have left me to negotiate. That’s my job, but he barely gave me a chance to speak. Wilson’s going to be in for a rude shock when he gets back to Earth. He thinks he’s going back to a hero’s welcome, but he’ll be lucky if the president doesn’t court-martial him on the spot.”
Alexander grimaced. One bad call was all it took to go from hero to villain. He definitely needed to get out of the navy.
CHAPTER 47
Two Weeks Later - March 6, 2793
Alexander watched their final approach to Earth and Freedom Station on the main holo display. Orbit was already secure thanks to the Alliance’s fleet of colony-class destroyers. The planet still looked green, white, and blue, which he thought was a good sign. No doubt they’d see a different story as they flew o
ver the mainland on their way to visit loved ones or pay their respects to the radioactive ruins where they used to live.
“Docking sequence initiated,” Alexander announced as he set the autopilot. He kept an eye on their approach vector in case he needed to make manual adjustments. Of all the ships in the fleet, the Lincoln had spent the most time away, so they were given first rights to shore leave. And despite the on-going occupation of Confederate territories, officers whose terms of service were up, were actually being allowed to leave the navy.
That meant that this shore leave could be permanent if they wanted it to.
Alexander wanted nothing more than to get the hell out. He and McAdams had plans to go settle down in a sleepy little town that would never become a target for terrorists. There they planned to bury their heads in the sand and pretend like this hard-won peace wasn’t just the start of another type of war.
Alexander sighed, watching as the Lincoln’s rear airlock made a successful connection to Freedom Station’s forward airlock, and gravity resumed it’s normal course.
“That’s it, everyone!” he announced. “We’re home.”
A few of the crew cheered and clapped their hands. Everyone unbuckled and went back to their quarters to gather their things. They already had their bags packed, so it didn’t take long. On his way out of his quarters, Alexander bumped into McAdams, and she greeted him with a kiss.
Lieutenants Stone and Ryder came striding down the corridor toward them, and Alexander cleared his throat. “That’s an unusual way to salute your captain,” he said, hoping they hadn’t noticed.
McAdams smiled wryly at him. “I had another greeting in mind, but it’ll have to wait for a more private setting.”
Ryder made no comment as he walked by. Alexander watched him curiously, thinking that it was unusual for him to pass up an opening like that. He was going to need a lot of therapy to get over his survivor’s guilt. He’d lost his entire squadron.
Alexander regarded McAdams with a grim smile. “Technically we’re still on duty, but remind me about that greeting once we’re dirtside.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, saluting and winking at him as she turned to leave.
He watched her go, his smile more genuine now. A welcome warmth began seeping through him, and he hurried to catch up.
* * *
“Let me be the first to welcome you and your crew back to Earth, Captain de Leon,” President Baker said, reaching out to shake Alexander’s hand with both of his. Alexander tried to thank the president, but the deafening report of Anchor Station’s saluting guns drowned him out. Then came the steady thunder of applause from several platoons of naval officers—admirals, captains, commanders, and lieutenants—all of them wearing full dress uniforms, standing in formation to one side of Anchor Station’s flight deck.
To the other side, standing behind a navy blue velvet rope, was a screaming crowd of reporters, their holo cameras filming and snapping holograms. The spotlights and flashes blinded Alexander in the dim light of dusk.
The president turned to face the press while still gripping Alexander’s hand. Alexander took that as his cue to smile for the cameras, all the while his mind raced, trying to come up with an explanation for all the pomp and ceremony surrounding his return to Earth. Why was everyone suddenly so interested in him?
After a moment, the president let go of his hand and gestured for him and the rest of his crew to follow him below decks. The press screamed questions at them as they went, drowning each other out.
Despite the chaos, Alexander did manage to catch a few of the reporters’ questions—“Captain de Leon, what made you stand up to Fleet Admiral Wilson? Did you know he was planning to betray the surrender?”
The president’s security detail shadowed them down the stairwell from the upper deck of Anchor Station. At the bottom of the stairs they continued on, winding along narrow corridors. After a few minutes of that, the president stopped outside a particular door and asked Alexander and Carter to join him inside. Two of the president’s security detail broke away from the group and took up positions to either side of the door. Alexander traded looks with his XO, and then glanced back at the rest of his bridge crew.
“They’ll be debriefed separately,” the president explained.
Alexander nodded. “Lead the way, sir.”
Once they were inside, the president directed them to sit in one of the couches, while he went to sit in an armchair facing them. The room was some type of office, utilitarian, but neat—gray metal walls, beveled metal floors, and a thin brown rug. The couches and chair were old and upholstered in cracked and creased brown vinyl.
Alexander’s gaze found the president’s, and his brow furrowed in question. Why was the president debriefing them personally, and why was he the only one there for the debriefing?
“Captain de Leon,” President Baker said slowly. “You’re something of a novelty here on Earth. A warrior with a conscience. Do you know what that makes you?”
Alexander shook his head.
“It makes you a hero. I’ve got you lined up for at least a dozen different medals and awards. But besides that, there’s a big promotion waiting for you.”
“I’m not sure I understand, sir.”
“You stood up to Admiral Wilson. Not once, but twice. You argued to save the Confederate Colonists, and then you refused to attack the Confederate Fleet after they surrendered.”
Alexander shook his head. “The Confederacy was hiding missiles behind their colony ships. If I had gotten my way and we had spared them, we would have taken heavy casualties.”
The president frowned and considered that for a long moment. “There are no easy decisions in war, Captain, but Admiral Wilson went a step too far when he betrayed the Confederate Fleet after their surrender. They could have been tried for war crimes, and we could have blamed the deaths of all those colonists on them.
“Instead, they’ve become martyrs. I was in the process of negotiating the Confederacy’s surrender when Chancellor Wang Ping learned of the betrayal. He subsequently ordered all branches of his military to dig in and resist capture at all costs because they could expect no mercy from us. Their people are burning our flags and calling us the great evil. Does that sound like they’ll be welcoming us with open arms?”
Alexander shook his head.
“We have to prove to them that Admiral Wilson’s actions were not sanctioned by our government. He’s going to be stripped of rank and publicly tried for crimes against humanity and breach of military law. In fact, he was arrested days ago already, long before he reached Earth.”
Alexander caught Max nodding along with that, as if he already knew of those developments.
“I understand, sir,” Alexander replied. “But what does any of that have to do with me?”
“It has everything to do with you. We need you to be the poster child for the Alliance’s moral character. You have to be a foil for Admiral Wilson and prove that we are not all the same. Prove that we aren’t evil.”
“You need me to run a PR campaign to spruce up our image.”
“Exactly! Commander Carter will use his experience to help you run that campaign.”
Alexander saw Max nodding along again, as if he and the president had rehearsed all of this ahead of time. Switching his focus back to the president, Alexander waited for him to go on.
“In addition to Commander Carter, you’ll have a whole team of publicists and public relations managers to guide you. You do understand what we’re trying to accomplish here, and what’s at stake? We’re talking about the difference between a peaceful transition of power versus another hundred years of war with an enemy that we can’t even find.”
“I understand, sir.”
“Good. The job comes with a promotion from Captain to Vice Admiral. We’re going to hold you up high and push Wilson down low. Hopefully, that will make enough of a statement to repair some of the damage he did.”
Alexander pursed his lips, c
onsidering the offer. He’d already served his country. He’d done his time. When was he ever going to have a chance to live his life?
“Mr. President, grateful as I am for your offer, I’m going to have to decline. I’ve been in the navy for too long already, and if I don’t settle down soon, I might never get another chance. I already lost my wife thanks to these past two years of extra service.” Alexander shook his head. “It’s just too much to ask.”
“I see. You won’t do it for your country then.”
“I’ve already done a lot for my country, sir.”
“Agreed, but before you turn down my offer, you might like to know that your wife isn’t dead.”
“I already know that, sir, but she moved on. I’m happy for her, but not so happy for myself—if you know what I mean.”
“Oh. Well, I can’t pretend to understand all of what went on between you two, but I was simply referring to the fact that technically she’s still missing. Until we find bodies we can’t be sure that—”
“Wait—sorry—what do you mean she’s missing? I received a message from her when we returned from Wonderland. She was living outside Sacramento.”
The president shook his head. “That was over six months ago. She joined the colony fleet, Captain. During the fighting her shuttle was damaged and forced to make an emergency water landing in enemy territory. We confirmed that they landed safely via their emergency beacon, but she and the other colonists from that shuttle are all still missing.”
Alexander felt his entire body grow cold. He shook his head slowly. “Why would she join the colony fleet?”
The president shrugged. “Maybe she didn’t think Earth was safe. Lots of people signed up. It wasn’t hard to fill the shuttles.”
“You filled them with a lie. You never planned to colonize Wonderland.”
“Is that what you think?” the president asked, clearly taken aback. “I’m not sure who told you that, but you’re mistaken.”
“Then why was the colony fleet armed? They’re warships, not transports.”
“They’re both. The Confederacy was sending a fleet, too, so we had to ensure that ours would be able to defend itself once it reached Wonderland.”
New Frontiers- The Complete Series Page 33