by Daniel Gibbs
“I’m afraid I don’t follow. What do pigs have to do with it?”
David chuckled. “A book we all have to read as school children from Earth’s 20th century. Animal Farm by George Orwell. It’s an allegory about the evil of socialism. You should read it… it’s a very eye-opening read pertaining to what happens when a group of people decide they know what’s best for others.”
“I would rather have a society where we surrender some rights than have one like the Terran Coalition where the poor beg for scraps and citizens aren’t guaranteed basic necessities.”
“There’s a job for anyone who wants it in the Terran Coalition, Carl. Unemployment across all of our planets is less than four percent. It’s true… some struggle, but that’s why we have robust charity organizations centered around our religious intuitions. Judaism, for instance, operates Jewish Community Centers across every planet in the Terran Coalition.”
“Are only Jews welcome to obtain help there?”
“Anyone is welcome regardless of what faith you hold, including none at all. The Terran Coalition collectively takes care of our citizens; we just do it without overwhelming government presence. The government has a safety net for the neediest. Private charity does the rest.”
“I find it hard to believe that it’s possible for private charity and minimal government intervention to work across a large scale.”
“Then perhaps once you are released from custody, you’d allow me to give you a tour of some of our planets and not just Canaan… but also our border worlds, which are still quite undeveloped. You can see how it works for yourself.”
Jenner snorted. “While I would gladly take you up on that offer… I don’t think I’m ever getting out of here, Colonel.”
“It will take a while, and you will be questioned repeatedly. But if you tell the truth, they will let you out. We’re more interested in justice than retribution.”
“Do you really believe that?”
“Yes, I do. It’s one of the reasons I get up every morning and put on this uniform.”
“I hope you’re right. I still want to try to bring peace to the Terran Coalition and League of Sol. Despite our differences, we’ve got to find a way to live together. If we don’t, this war will destroy us all.”
A knock on the door informed David that the allotted time for the discussion with Jenner was up. “I’m afraid they’ve come to collect you, Carl.”
Jenner stood as the door swung open and the security detail strode in. “Thank you for coming, Colonel. Please pass on what I’ve asked to your superiors.”
“I will. Good luck and Godspeed.”
Jenner inclined his head and was led out by the security detail. A few minutes later, David was debriefed on his conversation with Minister Jenner. Fumbling his way through the discussion, David just wanted to get out of there and go back to his quarters. The funerals for Sheila and those who had fallen were scheduled for the next day. He had to figure out how to get through that and carry on. The question was how he could find his way back to duty when he was so lost in the pain of his emotions.
41
Kenneth Lowe looked across his desk at the small group of people in his office onboard the Lion, his second in command, Joshua Carter, and several team leads, including Harold Billings. With a defeated tone to his voice, Kenneth addressed his team. “I’m afraid I was asked by Mr. Casey to tender my resignation, folks.”
There was a pregnant pause in the room as the rest of them looked at one another. Helen Thames, the project controller, was the first to speak. “That’s not fair, sir. We all volunteered.”
“Nevertheless, I disobeyed a direct order. I know I’ve said to all of you, more than once, if you find yourself in a position where you lack confidence in your chain of command, the only recourse is to resign. I had been prepared to do so prior to his request.”
“That’s bullshit,” Harold blurted out in his usual no-nonsense tone.
“Regardless, it is what it is. For several years now, we’ve done our best to run this program the right way and take care of those men and women out there fighting for us. For me, at least, that fight is over. I’m sure I will end up somewhere else. I need all of you to refocus your efforts to keep this ship operational, get it upgraded, and help it become the fighting machine we all know it is capable of being. It has been an honor and a privilege to work side-by-side with you these last four years.” Kenneth paused for a moment and turned to Joshua. “Now it’s on you to keep it going, Josh.”
Joshua shook his head. “I have no desire to continue without you, sir.”
“While that means a great deal to me, this program must go on. It’s bigger than any one of us. Even if every person assigned to this project walked out, the only people it would hurt are the crew of this ship, and the citizens of the Terran Coalition, including ourselves. In times like this, we must all sacrifice. One defense contractor’s career is a small price to pay. I’m willing to pay it, with a smile on my face.”
As he finished his statement, the screen he had attached to his tablet began to blink, indicating a vidlink. Briefly looking at the incoming request, Kenneth realized it was from Margaret Lee. This should be interesting. He made a shush sound to the room before accepting the call.
“Hello, Ms. Lee.”
“Hello, Mr. Lowe. How are you doing today?”
“I’m preparing to write my resignation letter, ma’am.”
“I see. At whose request?”
“Mr. Casey requested it before the Lion of Judah returned to space dock, ma’am. Given that I disobeyed a direct order and I have no confidence in Mr. Casey’s ability to lead, I felt it was the best course of action.”
There was a hiccup in the video feed; when it blinked back on, Margaret was smiling, “While I understand your respect for the chain of command, Kenneth…this isn’t the military. Your actions were exceedingly risky, but you made the right call. I don’t want mindless automatons working for me. I want living, breathing, thinking people that are willing and able to make difficult judgment calls when needed. By all accounts, your actions, coupled with that of the military crew of the Lion, helped make good on a nasty situation, and quite possibly saved the Terran Coalition.”
Kenneth shook his head. “Ma’am, all we did was work on some computer systems. Mr. Uzun deserves any real credit for joining the rescue mission for the POWs.”
“Modesty can sometimes be a bad thing in the corporate world, Kenneth. Let me put this a different way to you. You gambled. You won. SSI won too. Now we’re looking at a three-billion-credit contract that won’t even be put out for bid. Consider your resignation rejected.”
Kenneth tried to interject, as he was going to tell her he wouldn’t work for Stephen Casey any longer, but she spoke over him. “I’m also removing you from Stephen’s group. You will now report directly to me, and I am promoting you to director.”
Kenneth was stunned into silence for a moment. “Uh, yes, ma’am.”
“Do you think you could join me for a meeting tomorrow morning? I’d like to go over your new duties, and how I expect you to integrate into my team.”
“Yes, ma’am. Of course. What time?”
“Ten AM would be fine, in my office.”
“Yes, ma’am, I will see you then.”
“Good day, Kenneth.”
“Godspeed, Ms. Lee.”
The connection cut off abruptly, and for a moment, Kenneth said nothing. Deep down, he still thought he should resign because of the death of Uzun. Contractors weren’t supposed to be killed in combat; they weren’t supposed to fight. From a logical perspective, Kenneth knew the man had volunteered, and that his sacrifice saved thousands of lives. That didn’t make it any less hard to deal with the fact that Uzun wouldn’t have been there if not for Kenneth asking for volunteers. Raising his head and looking at his team, he saw smiles and a few happy tears.
Helen was the first to speak. “Score one for common sense.”
“I didn�
��t see that coming,” Kenneth said.
Joshua reached over the desk and slapped Kenneth’s arm. “Sometimes the good guys do finish first, sir.”
Kenneth cracked a smile. “I guess I’d better unpack my boxes and get back to work.”
“Yeah, and then we’re going to go wet down your promotion, Mr. Director,” Kevin said.
Joshua laughed. “Let’s go with El Director. It sounds more ominous.”
Kenneth smirked. “But I’m a teddy bear! That makes me sound like a tin pot dictator from one of the neutral worlds allied with the League!”
There were chuckles throughout the room; Kenneth was silent for a moment. “Thank you all for standing with me. At least we get a few more months to do this right.”
“Here, here!” Harold said.
“Okay, back to work everyone! Gather the team at 6 PM; happy hour is on me.”
David paced around his day cabin, brooding. The funerals for Sheila and the rest of the fallen from the battle would occur in the afternoon, but he couldn’t bring himself to stand watch until then. Better not to be seen on the bridge like this. I don’t want to shake the confidence of my crew. He had a pre-arranged video conference with General MacIntosh to discuss the Lion’s upcoming assignment and her new XO. That last part really got under his skin. Sheila wasn’t even in the ground yet, but the military had to assign a new XO. From a logical perspective, he got it. But from an emotional response perspective, it made him raw with rage.
The tablet beeped, reminding him it was time to connect to the video conference. David pulled up the application and entered his security code, General MacIntosh’s face appearing on his tablet a moment later.
“Thank you for joining me, Colonel,” MacIntosh’s voice rang through the speakers on the tablet.
“Of course, sir.”
“How are you holding up?”
“As best as can be expected, sir,” David replied. In reality, he was a mass of emotion, but that wasn’t the kind of thing he could tell his commanding officer.
“We’re going to be sending you back to the front rather quickly. Is your ship ready for deployment?”
“It will be, sir. We do have some personnel gaps that need to be addressed, specifically in our Marine detachment and embarked fighter wings,” David avoided mentioned the XO position.
“Colonels Demood and Amir will be getting topped off with new personnel before you depart. It is my intention to have the Lion perform around-the-clock shakedown activities for two weeks, then join the vanguard of our drive to push the League out of our space.” MacIntosh paused for a moment. “I’ve also been reviewing potential XOs for you.”
“It will be good to get back into the fight, sir.”
“The Joint Chiefs, SecDef, and President Spencer are unanimous in their belief that the Lion’s XO should be a Saurian.”
“I see, sir,” David said. Great, Sheila’s position gets turned into a PR stunt.
“Look, I get that this is hard. You have to understand that the alliance with the Saurians must stick. Period, full stop. It’s the only way we win this war in anything like a reasonable amount of time. Or for that matter, win it at all. I’m going to send you the best Saurian I can find. The guy I have in mind completed an exchange program rotation with the CDF, so he’ll at least understand how we do things. I expect you to treat him well and integrate him into your crew. Do I make myself clear, Colonel?”
“Crystal, sir.”
MacIntosh leaned forward toward the camera. “David, I know the last few days have been hell for you. I’m not discounting that. But you’ve got to put it aside and get back to work. Try to gain some closure today. We’ve all laid too many good friends into the ground, but there’s a real chance that now we can at least honor their memory by winning this war. You’ve got to take that hope, grab hold of it, nurture it.”
David forced himself to reply. “Yes, sir. Working on it.”
“Good. I’ll see you this afternoon. Take care and Godspeed.”
The tablet video link disconnected, leaving him staring at a blank screen. David sat and thought about MacIntosh’s words; he knew that from a logical perspective, they were on point. Logic however, failed him. The deep depression that swept over him simply couldn’t be brushed away with positive thoughts.
David forced himself to stay on task for the rest of the morning, working through personnel transfers and reviewing requests for additional equipment and supplies that required his signature. When his communicator reminded him it was 1200 hours, he left his office and made his way back to his cabin to prepare for the funerals later that afternoon.
David felt completely lost, gazing across a sea of polished white marble crosses, Stars of David, crescents and stars, and assorted other tombstones. Determined to honor his best friend, he stood with many other mourners, including Ruth, Hanson, Calvin, Tinetariro, Tural, Amir, and Hammond. Sheila had been turned into a Coalition-wide hero, and her funeral was evidence of that fact. President Spencer was in attendance, and many of the Joint Chiefs of Staff were with him. He thought to himself that he couldn’t care less about how much brass attended the funeral. All he wanted to do was honor his best friend and the woman he never allowed himself to express that he loved. Now that it was too late, all he wanted to do was just be able to talk to her one last time, tell her that he loved her, and try to find some way to make it all right again.
The Coalition Defense Force has pulled out all the stops, David thought to himself as a caisson drawn by a team of four horses came into view, coming down the dusty road through the cemetery. A riderless horse, the symbol of a fallen leader, followed it. As the caisson came to a stop, the honor guard approached it, exchanging salutes with the officer in charge and the chaplain. He watched as the casket team removed the casket with slow military precision. The chaplain then led the way to the gravesite followed by the honor guard, then Sheila’s family, and finally, the rest of the mourners.
This was the third funeral David had attended today, the first two being for crewmembers who died on the Lion and Hadi Uzun. There had been tears at those services, but now, David was literally beginning to shut down emotionally. He kept going back to Why? Why her? Logically, he knew that Sheila made a decision not to sacrifice someone else. Part of him wished that she had, but he also knew that the very thing that made her unwilling to sacrifice another was what he loved so much about her.
David’s thoughts continued to wander as the honor guard sat the casket down next to the freshly dug grave. Sheila’s family, including her mother and father as well as her brother, was seated first. David was one of the last to sit after the rest of the Lion’s senior staff had taken their seats on the back row.
The honor guard stepped back and off to the side, coming to parade rest, while the chaplain stepped up and spoke to the mourners.
“We come here today to mourn the passing of a young woman full of life. Not just lost to a random act of chance, but a life snuffed out by an all-consuming war,” the chaplain began.
“I know that looking around the people here today, I’m not the only one that asks why. I’m not the only one that looks up at the sky and asks over and over why God allows the horrible things that happen to continue. The pain and anguish that Sheila’s family, friends, and colleagues are enduring are altogether too common. There is almost no one in our land that hasn’t been touched by this war and by loss from it.
“In the book of Job, when Job finds out that his children have died, it says that Job stood up and tore his robe in grief, then he shaved his head and fell to the ground before God. Job said that the Lord gave me everything I had, and the Lord has taken it away. Praise the name of the Lord.”
The chaplain paused for a moment and glanced from side to side of the crowd. “Many times, we simply move on from our grief, lacking the time to process it, and we make ourselves busy so that we forget. But Job isn’t telling us to do that. Indeed, most of the book of Job is him mourning and challenging God as to th
at all-important question…why.”
Why is the question. Where is the justice in this? Why does God allow so many horrible things to happen? He claims to be just, and that if His people, who are called by His name, will humble themselves and pray that He will deliver them. Why hasn’t that happened?
“Our grief is something we must process. It is something we must endure. Some of us will move on more quickly than others, some will grieve for a long time. Those of us who finish our mourning before the rest must not grow impatient with those who don’t. Grief affects us all in different ways. Today we need to remember that Major Sheila Thompson was many things. A daughter, a warrior, a friend. She modeled the things that are the best in us. And our entire world is a little bit dimmer now that she is gone.
“I know that most of you here today have served, and that you all understand the idea of chain of command. Those of us who have been in the military understand that if we fail to follow orders, communication will break down, battles will dissolve into chaos, and the end result will be more lives lost. The same is true of believers. If we do not follow the orders found in the Bible, so too will our lives descend into chaos, and instead of lives, our souls will be lost. We must remain faithful and dedicated to the cause of Jesus Christ and what is just.
“I charge you all that as you leave this place today, remember the sacrifice of Sheila Thompson. Remember the sacrifice of all those who have gone before, and those that will undoubtedly follow. Some of you here may yet make that ultimate sacrifice. Know that as we stand with one voice, with one spirit, and with one mind, we are part of something larger than ourselves. Our suffering is for those we protect, and it is something that I, and I believe many of those who serve with me, take pride in doing. Not the kind of pride that says, ‘look at me, I did this.’ But the pride that comes from being a part of something bigger and better than yourself. Sheila Thompson had that pride, and she gave freely of herself so that others might live. She should serve as an inspiration to us all.