Echoes of War Box Set, page 106
part #1 of Echoes of War Series
“Admiral, thank you for taking the long journey to Earth so that we could talk to you in the flesh. I feel that sometimes the measure of a person is lost in digital transmission,” Pallis commented.
“I serve at the pleasure of the League, Mr. Chairman,” Seville responded neutrally.
“Yes… yes, you do. Let me start by being direct, Admiral. What happened out there? Where are our ships? Our crews? Our soldiers? Our station?”
“We were defeated, Chairman,” Seville began, his facial features tight with rage. “My fleet did not receive the reinforcements requested in the timeframe required. The Canaan Alliance has ships and fighters that are technologically superior to ours…”
“We gave you the best weapons our scientists have created in decades, Admiral. You had the drop on them, and you showed hesitation in the face of the enemy!” Pallis thundered, interrupting Seville in mid-sentence.
“Mr. Chairman, I must interject on behalf of Admiral Seville,” Strappi piped up from the back row. “I was present and observed his conduct. He’s never showed hesitation in the face of the enemy, and I might suggest that our mutual decision to send part of his fleet to chase down the Terran and Saurian ships may have given them the opening they needed to attack us.”
Seville whirled around, more startled than anything else at the sudden display of spine from his political officer.
Pallis too appeared shocked, with his mouth dropping open. “Is that so, Colonel Strappi?” he asked.
“Yes, comrade. I’ve never seen more tactical acumen from anyone in our fleet than from Admiral Seville. His dedication to the cause is laudable, and an inspiration to the entire League Navy.”
Several of the committee members exchanged glances. Hah, they’d never expect a political officer to defend the Navy so directly. Not that I did either.
“What are your recommendations then, Colonel Strappi? As our representative of the political commissars…”
A voice that Seville didn’t recognize spoke up from the far end of the table. It belonged to a man with striking features that included a scar across his face and a pronounced accent to his speech. “I must agree with Colonel Strappi, and Admiral Seville as well,” he began. “Allow me to introduce myself, comrades. Director Dmitry Borisov.”
Recognizing the name immediately, Seville was shocked the director of the League’s External Security Service was in the same room as the Social and Public Safety Committee. Known as a spymaster and one who lived in the shadows, there was little public linking of the two.
“What is needed now is a new paradigm for pressing our campaign against the Terran Coalition. For far too long, we’ve fought the Terrans’ war. It has bled us dry while playing our weaknesses against their strengths. If it wasn’t for the heroic efforts of our navy, and specifically of Admiral Seville, we would’ve suffered far worse losses.”
Alarm bells sounded inside of Seville’s head like the depressurization alarm on a starship. What’s he setting up, and why am I involved in it? “You’re most kind, Director. I live but to serve our great League,” Seville commented in his best attempt at a humble tone.
“For nearly thirty years,” Borisov continued, “we’ve used hard power in our war to defeat the Terran Coalition. Hard power accomplishes many goals, but sometimes we need to employ soft power as well. The Terran Coalition is a united group of people with many different goals, beliefs, and ideas. If we were to exploit those differences, drive wedges between them… we could destroy them from within.”
“And how do you propose we do that, Director Borisov? We’ve tried spreading the word of our socialism throughout Terran Coalition space, but they don’t seem to be overly interested until we’re able to get them into reeducation centers,” Pallis asked.
“Use their media against them. We already do so to a smaller extent, but there’s far more we can do. If you’ll authorize it, we can work alongside Admiral Seville as he employs hard power to defeat their soon-to-be deployed invasion fleets.”
Aha! There’s the hook. He wants to take over the war effort. Cunning fellow that’ll have to be managed carefully. Seville smiled thinly. “I believe working to weaken the Terrans from the inside has merit, Director Borisov. However, I must caution our last attempt to work together ended in disaster when the sleeper we tried to introduce to the peace conference failed.”
Borisov smiled in return, a look Seville suspected struck terror in the hearts of most underlings. “So it did, Admiral. I’m sure there’s enough blame to go around,” he said while staring directly at Strappi. “We must not dwell on the past in these matters. The Terran Coalition must be destroyed, and we need the resources, population, and technology they possess to continue to advance the cause of humanity across the stars. In two generations’ time, we’ll be ready to begin a campaign to conquer the local alien races. From there, who knows where the sands of time will take us.”
“I see merit in a new approach, Admiral,” Pallis said, glancing about the room. “Do you concur?”
“Of course, Mr. Chairman,” Seville intoned, the only response he could make without encouraging them to execute him, or worse, be labeled as an individualist.
“Then I want both of you to work together for the betterment of our struggle against the Terrans. I expect all parties involved to mimic the ways of our democratic socialist republic, without regard to personal ambition,” Pallis commented while making eye contact with both Seville and Borisov.
“I serve at the pleasure of the committee, Mr. Chairman,” Seville replied, striking his closed fist to his chest, the preferred League salute.
“I’d never have it any other way, Mr. Chairman. The External Security Service’s only goal is the safety of our citizens,” Borisov said with the same thin smile he’d previously used on Seville.
“Good. You may carry on with your duties,” Pallis said with finality.
“What do we have for dinner entrees today, chief?” Ruth asked the steward behind the serving line in the forward officers’ mess. She liked this particular mess because it was close to the bridge and easy to get to before and after standing watch.
“Well, Lieutenant, just about anything you want I can have made, but Salisbury steak with mashed potatoes is the plate of the night for dinner,” he replied.
“Is it real steak? Or some of that stuff made out of vegetables passed off as meat?”
The steward’s face took on a wounded look. “Ma’am, I wouldn’t feed those to my dog, much less officers in the CDF.”
“Point taken,” Ruth replied while laughing. “I’ll take that, with some bread and a salad.”
“Coming right up, Lieutenant. Take a number, and we’ll bring it out…as usual.”
Before Ruth could get out a response, the doors to the mess hall slid open and a group of enlisted soldiers pushing a cart full of beer and what looked like alcohol bottles busted into the room. She immediately recognized one of them as Master Chief Petty Officer Gordan MacDonald, the squad leader for Alpha team.
“Hey, cake eaters, we’re here for the good stuff! Bring out your booze!” MacDonald shouted, while other commandos yelled their agreement.
Ruth stared in amazement as the cart was pushed into the center of the room and the commandos took over a table. She looked back at the steward. “On second thought, I think I’ll take my food to go, chief.”
“Sure thing, Lieutenant,” he said, ducking behind the counter.
While Ruth was waiting for her food, Taylor walked in and approached the food line. “What in the heck is going on?” he asked her, his brow furrowed in a shocked expression.
“It would appear our mess has been commandeered by the space special warfare unit.”
“Hey, I heard someone say space special warfare!” shouted one of the commandos, a voice Ruth didn’t recognize. “If you ain’t spacewalking, you ain’t shit!”
“Hoorah!” another commando yelled while the rest downed shots.
Unable to conceal a smile, Ruth grinned as they carried on. “Well, they did take fifty percent losses,” she said quietly to Taylor. “Maybe this is how they cope?”
“No idea. I’m a comms geek, not a ground pounder… for a reason.”
“I wonder if this has anything to do with Colonel Cohen being off the ship tonight,” Ruth mused.
“No, pretty sure he’s got a date,” Taylor replied.
“Colonel Cohen… on a date? Check your RUMINT source. No way.”
Taylor shook his head and grinned at the same time. “Absolutely one hundred percent accurate. I overheard the air boss give the instruction for his shuttle to drop him off on Canaan at 1700.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“Yeah, but I also connected him in to the receptionist for a restaurant on Canaan.”
“Okay, he could be taking his mother out,” Ruth replied, utterly convinced David wasn’t capable of dating anyone currently.
“The shuttle went to the pad nearest to Angela Dinman’s apartment complex.”
“You’re spying on the colonel?” Ruth asked, her jaw dropping open.
“Nah, an intel analyst pulled that out.”
Ruth just rolled her eyes. “Wait a minute… the colonel is going out with an agnostic reporter?”
“Yup,” Taylor said.
The steward passed a container with Ruth’s food across the counter. “Here you go, Lieutenant.”
“Getting yours to go?” Taylor asked.
“Yeah, not interested in the drinking fest,” Ruth said as the commandos pounded another round of shots, yelling in glee at the same time.
“I guess I’ll do the same. Hey, want to join me in the atrium to eat? I never like to eat alone in my quarters. Seems depressing, somehow.”
Ruth couldn’t believe her ears. What is this, the dating ship now? “Are you asking me out on a date, Lieutenant Taylor?” she said, a bit harsher than she intended.
“Um, no…” Taylor said, clearly flustered. “I thought two friends could break bread together. Sorry.”
Ruth immediately felt ashamed of her behavior as he turned to go. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I’d be happy to eat with you. I’ll find us a spot on the atrium, and you get some grub. Deal?”
“You sure?”
“Positive.”
“Okay, I’ll get something and be right up.”
“See you in a few, Robert,” Ruth said with a smile as she walked out of the mess. Meanwhile, one of the commandos was throwing darts into a portable board they’d set up on another table, and were cheering on one of their members as he chugged a shot before each throw. Boys will be boys. She couldn’t help but to roll her eyes.
43
“For some reason, I expected this to be… different,” Angie said as she walked through the door that David held open for her, taking in the sight of the restaurant they had entered with white linen tablecloths, waitstaff in tuxedo shirts and bowties, and magnificent architecture.
David smirked and walked up to the host stand, which had a small sign on it that said, “Canaan Prime Steakhouse.” “Reservations for two, under Cohen,” David said to the hostess.
“Right this way, Colonel Cohen.”
David grimaced, not wanting to be recognized so readily in public. Forcing it down, he instead focused on Angie, and realized that while she was pretty, she had gone all out on dressing up. “You look beautiful this evening,” he commented to her with a grin.
“Third time you’ve said so,” Angie replied with a grin on her own. “If I’d known this was all it took, I would’ve been getting exclusives out of you for months.”
David rolled his eyes and sat down at the table the hostess had led them to after Angie had taken her seat first. “Thank you, ma’am,” he said to the hostess.
“My pleasure. Please enjoy your dinner.”
After she had left, David picked up from Angie’s earlier comment. “What did you expect to be different?”
“Well, when you think of a kosher restaurant… I mean, what comes to mind for me is a small hole in the wall serving cucumbers and coleslaw with big sandwiches,” Angie replied.
David laughed. “Kosher food is just as high end as any other type of food. It’s all in the way you prep it. That, and don’t try to order a cheeseburger.”
“You think I’d order a cheeseburger at a place that sells high-end steaks?”
David smirked. “Well no, but…”
“Gotcha,” Angie replied with an evil little grin. “You’re so easy to trip up with that Boy Scout routine of yours. I thought it was fake for the longest time.”
David’s eyebrow shot up, involuntarily. “You thought I was fake?”
“I’ve found most people are self-serving. I still haven’t found any evidence you are.”
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I thought you were just another airhead reporter looking to smear the CDF when you showed up.”
Angie snickered. “I guess we each found out the other wasn’t quite what we thought.”
“So true,” David replied. “I was told the bone-in ribeye here is amazing.”
“I might try it. I haven’t had a delicious steak in a while.”
“Steak isn’t served often on military ships. Most of the time on the Rabin, I was happy to get a hot meal.”
“That was the destroyer you commanded, right?”
David nodded at her. “Yes, for all of about seven months. I loved that ship.”
“But now you’ve got a much bigger ship,” Angie commented.
“Yes, but there’s something about the first ship. Walking through the airlock and hearing the computer announce, ‘Commanding Officer, Yitzchak Rabin arriving.’” David smiled. “I know my dad would’ve been proud to see me there.”
“You still miss him?”
“Every day.”
“My mom and dad live on one of the frontier planets. They rough it… eschew as much technology as possible. Heck, my father hunts the meat they eat most of the time,” Angie said.
“Sounds like an interesting upbringing,” David replied before being cut off by the waiter.
“Greetings! Thank you for joining us this evening. What can I start you two off with?”
“I’d like a glass of water, please,” Angie said.
“Same for me,” David finished.
“I’ll be right back with two waters, and some of our famous pickled cucumbers and coleslaw.”
Angie couldn’t help but smirk as the waiter left. “I guess all kosher restaurants serve cucumbers and coleslaw?”
“Pretty much,” David deadpanned. “So back to this frontier planet. No running water or power?”
Angie’s eye’s narrowed. “We had power and water, and a GALnet connection,” GALnet stood for Galaxy Net, a network that ran between all of the planets in the Terran Coalition. “It was just different. They didn’t have normal jobs like you, and I do today. My dad built houses, and my mother cleaned them. I loved my childhood, though.”
“Mine wasn’t quite like that. We lived in the heart of the Terran Coalition, on Canaan. After my dad died, Mom wouldn’t move back to New Israel. She stayed in the same house. Still there, in fact.”
“So a normal childhood, then?”
“Except for Dad never coming back from what was supposed to be his last mission,” David replied.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be insensitive.”
“No, it’s okay. I made peace with it a long time ago. My father did what he needed to do. Funny thing is, I always thought I needed to be a rabbi. Then I ended up being a pretty good soldier.”
“What happens after you’re done with the military?” Angie questioned.
“Well, I hope it’s in time to settle down, have children, and figure out how to use a plow,” David said with a broad smile.
Angie smirked. “Somehow, you as a farmer doesn’t quite work.”
“It’s a metaphor,” David answered, a bit flustered.
“You see life beyond all this, someday?”
David nodded. “Yes, don’t you? I couldn’t go on day in and day out with nothing to look forward to but more combat. Combat is a necessity of our situation, but not something I live for.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“What about you, what do you want in the future?”
“Oh, a decent guy, a few kids, some satisfaction out of my career. Win the lottery,” Angie deadpanned in reply.
David laughed. “That’s quite an impressive list of wants there. We can see about getting Doctor Hayworth to help you win the lottery… on a more serious note, I’ve come to believe satisfaction in our life, which extends to our career, comes out of what we’re focused on. Not saying I have the right focuses, mind you, but I think there’s more to life than whatever career we’re in.”
“Then why are you alone, if you don’t mind me asking?”
David was quiet for a moment. “Because I didn’t want to put another person through what my mother and I had to endure when Dad was killed.”
Angie looked down, then made eye contact with him. “I’m so sorry, David. I didn’t… wow, I’m making this a great date.”
David reached across the table and took her hand in his. “Nothing to be sorry for. It’s something I’ve lived with for many years, and well, in the last few months, I’ve come to realize I’ve been looking at it through the wrong lens. That’s why I fumbled through asking you out.” To David’s relief, she didn’t shrink away from his hand, instead grasping it in hers.
“I’m glad you did.”
“Does that mean I get a second date?”
“You still have plenty of time left to screw this one up, Colonel, sir,” Angie replied with a wry grin. “Don’t get ahead of yourself on the first one.”
Grinning back at Angie, David found himself thoroughly enjoying her company outside of the confines of the Lion of Judah and the war. Over the next couple of hours, they ate and spoke of many topics, exploring life and their mutual interests. All too quickly, the dinner was over and they were walking down the narrow street the restaurant was located on, headed toward Angie’s parked helicar.
