The final seconds seemed to stretch out for eternity as they came ever closer to the Le Terrible. Levi fought the instinct to brace himself in the CO’s chair. Once we hit, it’s all over anyway, and I doubt we’ll feel anything for more than a couple of seconds. Levi tried to focus on a mental image of his wife and son as the last moments ticked away. The Salamis contained nearly sixty-five thousand tons of mass, and while the energy shields of the League flagship were exceedingly powerful, they couldn’t alter the laws of physics.

  A split second after the bow of the destroyer met them, it began to crumple up, the shield holding briefly as more and more of the old ship’s mass slammed forward. Overloaded, the thin barrier failed, and the molten hull impacted onto the Le Terrible’s armor.

  Burning through the armor in milliseconds thanks to the inertia of the destroyer, what was now a mass of molten metal lay waste to the superstructure of the enemy flagship. Secondary explosions broke out across its hull, and in the brief moment before he died, Levi was able to recognize a final mission accomplished.

  The icon for the Salamis merged with the one for the Le Terrible and disappeared on the tactical plot.

  MacIntosh let out the breath he’d been holding.

  “My God,” Irvine said, watching the holographic tank in real time. “He did it.”

  “Admiral, scans show loss of propulsion, weapons, and power across Master One!” MacIntosh interjected. “She’s disabled!”

  Irvine turned around with the look of a fierce warrior. “That, Lieutenant, is what happens when free men and women are forced to do whatever is required to defend their homes. Never forget it, or the cost.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Irvine turned back and stared at the plot as if she was waiting for something to happen, something she already knew would occur. MacIntosh felt his emotions overwhelm him. Thirty seconds ago, we were all dead. Now maybe there’s a chance.

  “They’re slowing. That’s the problem with extremely hierarchical command structures with no flexibility. Lieutenant, order our line to advance. If I’m right, they’ll crumble before us.”

  “If you’re wrong, ma’am?”

  “You can testify against me at my court-martial or join me in hell.”

  MacIntosh grinned. “Wasn’t planning on going to hell myself, ma’am.”

  “Me either, Lieutenant. Now we hold on another thirty minutes.”

  The screams of wounded and dying men and women echoed around Seville. He found breathing difficult and tried to push himself up, only to discover his legs were pinned beneath something he couldn’t quite make out due to blurry vision. “Admiral, are you alive?” a voice called out, seemingly from far away.

  “I’m over here,” Seville said weakly, coughing as he did. “Help me!”

  Minutes seemed to stretch into hours as the sound of metal being torn away and thrown got closer. Finally, the weight lifted off his legs, and he felt pressure against his eyes. Trying to open them again, Seville found he could see… albeit out of only one eye.

  “Thank you,” Seville said, looking at the faces of those who had come to help him. “What of the ship?”

  “It’s bad, Admiral. Our engines are disabled, as are our weapons. We’re sitting ducks, and the enemy is moving toward us,” a young officer who wore the bars of a lieutenant junior grade replied.

  “The senior officers?”

  “We’re trying to dig them out, sir.”

  “Help me up.”

  A couple of crewmen propped Seville up under each shoulder, allowing him to stand. The bridge was a mess. Fallen deck plating, consoles, and other equipment were strewn across every surface, with wounded personnel everywhere he looked.

  “Admiral, the reactors are going critical! Engineering reports that we must evacuate,” the same lieutenant JG interjected. “We need to get you to the shuttle bay so you can transfer your flag to another ship.”

  He wants to keep fighting. I don’t blame him, but the battle is lost. We must retreat and regroup. “Yes, Lieutenant. That’s exactly what I need to do. Sound the alarm to abandon ship.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  A faint cry for help, from a woman’s voice, caused Seville to pause. “Quiet!” he yelled. The cry became louder, and he instantly recognized the voice as Lemieux’s. Forcing his way closer, he relied on the support of one of the enlisted sailors to remain upright, limping along. “Clear this debris away.”

  It took a few minutes until Lemieux’s head was visible under the wreckage. Her face was smeared with blood, and her breathing was clearly labored. “Admiral… thank you. I can’t feel my legs. Help me,” she said. For the first time, Seville saw a vulnerable emotion in her; the fear of death.

  “The fleet is falling back,” Seville said, anger uncorking within him. “We will lose hundreds of ships, tens of thousands of sailors. All because of your tired insistence that we stick to a plan developed by a man halfway across the galaxy that isn’t here!”

  “I’m sorry,” Lemieux said. “I can’t change any of that now, but I’ll work to help you. To clear your name, so that we can try again.”

  “Oh yes, help me. I think what you mean is pin the blame for this debacle on the Navy and hang as many of us as high as you can.”

  “Admiral,” the young lieutenant JG interjected. “We’ve got to go, sir.”

  “Yes, we do,” Seville said coldly. “Gather everyone who can walk, help the wounded, and get to the shuttles.”

  “What of the colonel, sir?”

  “She was dead when we found her,” Seville said, embracing the anger and hate that had welled up inside of him. “Is that clear?”

  “But, sir…”

  “Is that clear, Lieutenant?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “No!” Lemieux begged. “Please help me. I don’t want to die here. You can’t abandon an officer of the League!”

  “The League exists solely for protecting the state as a whole, Colonel Lemieux,” Seville said, a wicked smile on his face. “It was you that told me any single citizen is worth nothing as long as the whole survives. Well, consider yourself learning how that works on a first-hand basis,” he continued, turning toward the crewmembers behind him. “Let’s go.”

  The cries of Lemieux faded behind them as they walked out of the bridge. Momentarily, Seville felt a pang of remorse for leaving the woman to die, which he quickly banished. She deserves her fate. If that fool hadn’t insisted on following a worthless piece of paper, we’d have beat this enemy. Limping along, he decided that regardless of how long, or much it cost, the Terran Coalition would pay for the lives they’d taken from his men and women.

  8

  “You guessed right, General,” MacIntosh stated, standing next to Irvine in front of the holographic projection tank. “The enemy is having difficulty reacting to our own advance. They’re falling back in disarray.”

  “If you had to boil it down, what did you learn today, Lieutenant?”

  “Superior training and technology will beat masses of enemy forces?”

  Irvine shook her head. “No. Oh, that’s a true statement, but that’s not what I want you to get out of this battle. It came down to two people, on a decades-old ship. Had the Salamis not been able to make its run, or its CO not answered the call when destiny knocked, I doubt we’d have won.”

  “We haven’t won yet, ma’am.”

  “Quite right. But we will.” Irvine flashed a smile. “I want you on my flag-staff going forward.”

  “I’d…” MacIntosh stammered. “I’d be honored, ma’am.”

  Orders from the front of the bridge caused them both to turn and stare. “Emergency turn to port, thirty-five degrees up bubble!” a voice yelled.

  “Conn, TAO, forward shields have failed! We’re taking concentrated fire on our forward quarter.”

  “Don’t worry, Lieutenant,” Irvine said. “This old ship survived the Saurian wars. They used to call it old Ironsides, because supposedly Saurian mag-cannon shells bounced off the hull.”

  MacIntosh snickered, staring at the plot and watching as more red icons blinked out. “The last update is the first wave of reinforcements—six American carrier battle groups and a space action group from the Federal Republic of Brandenburg—are ten minutes out. They’ll be here any minute.”

  Before Irvine could respond, alarm klaxons sounded, and shouts rang out. Looking out the transparent metal windows at the front of the bridge —a typical design on CDF ships— MacIntosh saw explosions spreading across the superstructure of the vessel and quickly moving closer to them. A huge blast hit the very front of the bridge, causing a hull breach and corresponding drop in pressure that made his ears pop. He threw Irvine to the ground as consoles shorted out, sparks and flames flew, and pandemonium swept the area.

  Emergency forcefields snapped on, protecting the area of the bridge used by the flag-staff. MacIntosh got up and surveyed the scene before them. Dozens were dead or wounded, and the control center was no longer functional.

  “I’ve got basic sensors up over here,” an enlisted soldier called out, “showing dozens of wormholes opening. Signatures read as friendly!”

  MacIntosh turned back around to Irvine, a broad smile on his face. “You did it, General. The cavalry is here.”

  Irvine looked up and nodded slowly. “We did it, Lieutenant. Canaan will be saved to fight another day,” she said. It took MacIntosh a moment to realize her breath was labored, and that blood was trickling out of her mouth.

  “Corpsman! General Irvine needs medical attention! Get a corpsman up here now!” MacIntosh shouted at the top of his lungs before he dropped to his knees beside her. Only then did he see a small piece of metal that had somehow missed him and hit her center mass, protruding out from her uniform, red stains spreading out from around it.

  “Make sure they don’t forget the sacrifices made today,” Irvine rasped. “Promise me.”

  “I promise, ma’am.”

  “You’ll make a fine officer, MacIntosh. I’d hoped to teach you more.”

  “Save your strength, General. Help’s on the way.”

  “I’ve been doing this for too long for that to work on me,” she said, a sad smile coming over her face. “Get my crew to safety, Lieutenant. I wonder… what’s it like on the other side? No pain, no suffering, no war? I hope.”

  MacIntosh took her hand and prayed silently. God, please help this woman. I know she was the instrument of Your will today. Please don’t let her die.

  A corpsman appeared at MacIntosh’s side and shoved him out of the way. “General, can you hear me?” she asked, kneeling and running a medical scanner over Irvine’s body. “She’s in full cardiac arrest! Get the defib over here,” the corpsman shouted. Another corpsman tossed a small tool toward her, which she caught in mid-air and applied to Irvine’s chest, causing a noticeable jump in her body as it jerked from the electrical shock. MacIntosh watched as they discharged the device over and over. The woman finally stepped back and shook her head. “I’m sorry, sir. She’s gone. Too much blood loss.”

  It registered with MacIntosh that there was a large amount of blood on the floor around Irvine. She was alive a moment ago, he thought. So quickly can everything be gone. Almost in a stupor, he looked around and realized that everyone was staring at him. Why are they looking at me? Then it hit him. Because I’m the ranking officer that survived.

  “Can we get an open commlink to engineering?” MacIntosh asked, his voice barely above a stammer.

  “Sir, I can’t raise anyone past section eight. Radiation alarms are registering along the entire aft portion of the ship and moving forward, sir,” a young woman who manned an engineering sub-console reported. “All reactors have been SCRAMed.”

  Get it together, Andrew. You know what needs to happen now, a voice inside of MacIntosh said. Somewhere from deep within, he found the will to look up and begin giving orders. “Get me 1MC.”

  “You’re on for 1MC, sir,” another crewman shouted back.

  “Attention, all hands, this is Lieutenant Andrew MacIntosh. I’m the surviving member of the bridge crew and de facto commanding officer of the Victory. Radiation is spreading forward. We can’t reach damage control teams in the engine space.” There was a pregnant pause before he continued. “Abandon ship. I say again, all hands, abandon ship. This is not a drill. Make your way to the nearest escape pod immediately!”

  Those who remained on the half-destroyed bridge stared at MacIntosh in shock. “That applies to everyone here too,” he barked. “Do you have a stretcher?” he asked toward the corpsmen.

  “We do, sir.”

  “Then help me retrieve General Irvine’s body.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  9

  League of Sol Navy Headquarters

  Geneva, Switzerland – Earth

  21 October 2533

  * * *

  Unlike the spartan conditions aboard military ships or those found on the border planets, being back on Earth is an exercise in having all manner of needs met. Seville walked through the halls of the League Navy headquarters in Geneva, Switzerland on his way to an appointment with the admiral of the fleet. I fully expect to be relieved of command and put on trial. There had been signs he was being followed and watched, readily apparent to a military officer with twenty-five years in the service.

  Above all, never show fear. I must never act like I know what they’re doing. He walked through a finely carved wood door that led an impressive reception area replete with an indoor fountain and vines hanging from its sides.

  “Admiral Seville,” a man who appeared to be in his mid-thirties and wore the bars of a lieutenant commander said in greeting. “Admiral Lambert is expecting you.” He gestured toward a double wooden door.

  “Thank you, Commander.” Seville walked to the door and paused for a moment. Fear invaded his mind and made him flinch upon reaching for the handle, but he forced himself to remain impassive and press on.

  The office beyond the door looked like something out of a history book that condemned the excesses of capitalism long ago. Intricate wood paneling lined the walls, while the desk and other furniture scattered throughout was clearly old and equally impressive.

  “Admiral Seville,” Lambert said as he stood, flashing something approaching a smile. “Thank you for coming to see me today.”

  Seville closed the door behind him, and following protocol, came to attention before the desk. “Admiral Pierre Seville, reporting as ordered, sir.”

  “Have a seat, Admiral,” Lambert said gruffly. Once Seville had sat down, he continued. “I’ve read your report, three times.”

  “It is completely accurate.”

  “Of that, I have no doubt. I personally interviewed a dozen surviving ship commanders, members of your own staff, and everyone still alive from your flag bridge. There may be a few details left out, but on the main, I believe every word in it.”

  “Then, sir, when can I get back to the front?”

  “You really think it’s that simple?”

  “There’s an enemy out there that we must defeat,” Seville replied. “Even that they won a battle against us has emboldened capitalist fanatics and counter-revolutionaries within the League. The Terran Coalition must be crushed.”

  “That’s a good line, Admiral,” Lambert said, laughing. “You hung out around your political officer a little too long.”

  Is he testing me? “I live but to serve the state and the party, Admiral.”

  “You will retire from the Navy, Admiral. You will go to a border planet that has some comforts, but where you will have to work on a farm to feed yourself. I will permit your family to join you. This will satisfy the need for a scalp with the Social and Public Safety Committee, and protect you.”

  Better than the noose. “Of course, sir.”

  “Now, as a Frenchman, I don’t like seeing the Russians and Chinese working together against one of my own to cover their own failures.”

  Alarm bells began to go off in Seville’s head. “We are all one League, sir.” What if someone is listening?

  “I have my office swept every morning for listening devices, Seville,” Lambert snapped as if reading his mind. “There will be changes made in the top members of the committee before too long. A new man waits in the wings… Pallis. He’s French, like us. When he gets into power, I will be able to rehabilitate you.”

  Seville’s face took on the appearance of a caged animal. “We cannot speak of such things!” he practically shouted. “I am a loyal officer of the League!”

  Lambert chuckled. “I was like you once. You’ll get over it during the next few years, tending carrots and potatoes, wishing you were dead from boredom. Admiral, this is no trap. I take care of my own, and I know what a loyal, capable officer looks like. If that idiot Lemieux had listened to you, we’d be toasting the fall of these Terrans, as they call themselves. Now we’ve got a protracted war on our hands because sending another thousand ships is out of the question. Worse, we can’t pull what’s in mothballs out and send them because the enemy has such impressive technology. No… this will be a war of attrition.”

  “I just want to serve, sir,” Seville said finally, once his mind stopped racing.

  “I recognize that. Oh, I’ve had you checked out in ways you can’t begin to imagine, Admiral. If you had failed the test today, I would’ve had you executed,” Lambert replied without a trace of irony in his voice. “You have a week to prepare. Anything else?”

  “No, sir,” Seville said, his voice feeling distant and robotic. “Thank you.”

  “One other thing, Admiral. The next time you directly or indirectly kill a political commissar… make sure no one else sees you.”

  Seville’s eyes went wide. Someone must have tried to turn me in. Fear washed over him like a wave.

  “Not to worry. I dealt with the problem. Dismissed.”

  Seville stood and brought himself back to attention, slapping a closed fist to his chest, the salute of the League of Sol. Then he turned on his heel and exited the office. If I stopped to consider this, I’d allow myself to realize that the League is corrupt, indeed our entire system of socialism is corrupt, and I’m just a fool. We must all play the game to stay alive, however. Perhaps someday, I can gain my revenge for the loss of my eye and the loss of my crew. Until then, I’ll nurture the anger within me, feed off of it, and be ready the next time I’m called upon.

 

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