Birthright: Battle for the Confederation- Reprisal Page 15

  The Admiral stopped his pacing for a bit and returned to his seat, relaxing a bit as he sat down. “All the details are of course in your briefing materials, but our mission is pretty simple: we are tasked with rescuing the only known free member of our government from possible capture by our enemies. If we are to maintain support from our own people as well as those other entities and civilizations that are watching us, we must show them that the military is not going to take over and try to run this Confederation.”

  The Admiral then nodded to his aide, a Commander from the Intelligence branch of the navy.

  “I have some very last minute intel to pass along to all of you as well, which definitely falls under the heading of “News of the Weird”. It does not directly pertain to this operation, but it’s better if you get a briefing from official channels.” The man paused to make sure everyone was paying attention, then continued. “Two days ago, a number of Enkarran ships made contact with a Task Force centered around the Sabre class carrier Dauntless. On behalf of themselves and several dozen other ships who were not there, the Enkarran captain who was acting as spokesman for the group offered to join with the Confederation in our fight against the Primans.”

  The officers around the table were all seasoned professionals, but the response was immediate. Murmurs, grumbling, and hushed curses floated around the room but died down quickly.

  Captain Elco gathered himself and spoke first. “Is this a surrender?”

  “Not exactly, Captain,” the Commander continued. “The captain of the ship, a Josias Krent I believe his name was, was speaking only for the ships that had pledged to follow his lead in talks with us. He claimed that since their government was in shambles, he could only act on behalf of those with him.”

  “We’re going to let them do this? Their government is destroyed, much like ours, because of their part in the invasion!” This from a Qualin captain across the table from Elco.

  “There has been no decision from Confed HQ. That matter will be among the first items resolved after our upcoming engagement in the Delos System. But I can tell you they are considering under what terms, if any, they would agree to this.”

  “To what end, then?” asked a Trin CAG from one of the carriers. “Do they want immunity? Compensation? Forgiveness?”

  “I won’t guess at their motives. But they have offered to join the fight, and have stated that they will do so under almost any terms. And right now, as outnumbered as we are, I do think we should prepare ourselves for the possibility it might go through. It won’t happen tomorrow, but it might be sooner than you think. We also have to consider whether the Confed side has cooled down enough to work with the Enkarrans and not frag them the first chance they get.” There were more than a few grim laughs at that, but it was obviously on the minds of many at the table. “In any case, as I said, you won’t need to worry about this for a bit, but we did feel that you should be briefed in case this spreads around the fleet.”

  With that, the briefing concluded, though there were obviously many questions left unanswered about the Enkarran development.

  Elco and Stone left together and traveled in silence all the way to the hangar levels of the big ship. Finally, alone in a lift on the last leg of their journey to the hangar space, Elco broke the silence.

  “Josias Krent. Captain of the Union.” He all but sneered. The captain of the ship that had been responsible for the worst damage Avenger had yet received, as well as the death of their mutual friend and fellow officer, Executive Officer Delgin Marks, the man whose job Loren was filling in for.

  Loren’s hand unconsciously brushed against the SSK holstered low on his right hip. He also knew that he was most likely the only person on Avenger or otherwise that Elco would have let that slip to. The captain was supposed to be in control, always focused, and only complain up the chain of command. But sometimes you just had to say something, and Loren was glad that Elco trusted him with his comments. “I hope I don’t ever run into him,” Loren said. “I just don’t want to test myself in that way.”

  “A lot of things can happen before that. I doubt Confed would put them anywhere near units with history like we have.”

  Loren looked at the captain and simply nodded once. Any words describing his reactions to the Enkarrans and their part in his friend’s death would be inadequate. Emotions would describe his state of mind better. Anger. Loathing. And maybe a little bit of anticipation. Maybe he would get to confront this Krent fellow. It would probably be better if he didn’t, though.

  An hour later, Loren was running a scaled-down version of the Gallant briefing in the C3 of Avenger. Captain Elco was up on the bridge, leaving Loren to fulfill the XO’s duties as he briefed various department heads and critical Avenger personnel.

  “And so as you can see on the holo, after some initial maneuvering designed to take advantage of Avenger’s stealth systems, we’ll be rejoining with Torino’s formation for the run-in to the upper atmosphere for her extraction of the ground forces and her potential surface bombardment. All our fighters will rejoin at that time and fold back into the fighter screen composed of elements of the various ships in the formation. We head out to Phase Line Gray, and from there we’ll get our orders, which will only go one of two ways. Either we stay in-system because Fleet thinks we can take and hold it, or we head back to our programmed rendezvous points and regroup at the indicated coordinates. Any questions?”

  Loren fielded ten minutes’ worth of Q&A about the finer points of the attack plan, from gunnery targets to enemy sensor and weapons capabilities to contingency plans of every nature, but eventually everyone was happy and he dismissed them. Cory, Merritt, and Web hung back to catch up with Loren, and the four sat back down at the briefing table.

  “You know, I must say, this XO thing seems to suit you ok. You aren’t nearly as inept as I’d have thought.” Merritt joked, hoping to keep the mood light.

  “Giving briefings is easy enough,” Loren responded with a grin. “Even you could do it.”

  “Still,” Merritt continued, “it’s a nice box to check off on the resume. Nice cushy job, I hear. I have to ask, though, have you gained weight?”

  “Have you gotten uglier?”

  “Ouch, now that cuts deep. I must take my time in preparing a suitably scathing and witty comeback.”

  “Might want to be gentle, Merritt,” Cory chimed in. “Earlier, Loren told me he was going to send you out in front of the fleet alone as bait.”

  “With you by my side, Cory, we could take on the entire Priman Navy!”

  “Are you kidding? He said alone. I told him it was a great idea.”

  Loren pored over the attack plan and all other manner of data in his cabin, alone with his thoughts. He had for a while yielded to the temptation to darken his cabin and set a brooding atmosphere by using only desk lights and low intensity directional lighting, just like in the holo videos at that point in the production where the hero goes through the dark phase before the inevitable retribution against those who have done wrong. He quickly discovered that not only was the mood not working for him, but the dim lighting hurt his eyes as he strained to focus on the details of his holo projections and panel displays.

  So Loren sat in his fully lit but silent cabin, mind only half on the attack plan. He knew what was bothering him and why; he didn’t need a ship’s doctor or psych team to tell him what was wrong. He was worried sick about his wife, stuck on occupied Toral. He felt like there was nothing he could do. Every fiber of him cried out to do something, anything, but helping the Confederation Navy beat back the Primans was the most effective thing he could think of. And that left him here, not able at times to fully concentrate on the job at hand but realizing it was his responsibility and that he was also good at it. He prided himself on his skills as a pilot, knowing intuitively how to fly his Talon or anything else he sat in, but was also coming to realize that maybe he could do more from another position such as XO. He had never wanted to do anything other than f
ly, but if giving up his seat in a fighter got this over with and got him his life back, he could live with it. Besides, he knew that with Cory as acting CAG, his pilots were in good hands.

  Loren silently wished for something to happen- an alert, hyperspace countdown, call for the XO, anything. He needed something to set his mind to, lest he fall back to worrying about what he could do to stop the Primans again. He could compartmentalize things better than most, and when he was occupied, he could focus on that task at hand to the exclusion of all others if need be. He realized that he was hungry, but didn’t feel like eating. Merritt had joked about Loren gaining weight, but the opposite was true. He had lost a few pounds since Toral fell. When he was engrossed in work, he often forgot to eat. When he was left with just his worry and imagination, he didn’t feel like eating. Loren had taken to just eating protein ration bars- they provided all the nutrition his body needed, and he could get it over with and choke them down quickly. He had lost most of his interest in food, but still knew he had to eat, which left him with the option he chose and not much else. He supposed he could bring it up with the flight surgeon who would probably prescribe something low-key to help, but he knew the woman was already busy and would just tell him what he already knew. If nothing else, it gave him focus- he was this way because of the Primans, and every time he started thinking about his own worries and fears, it was easy to remember who was to blame.

  Wanting a distraction, he let his mind wander to the night he met Cassie. It was on Toral, and he was home visiting family and friends after finishing his first tour as a fighter pilot on a Sabre class carrier. He had been out with a small group of friends, not being rowdy, not even wearing his uniform, just out for dinner and a couple of drinks. They had ended up sitting in a table right next to a group of attractive women at the restaurant, and after being busted enough times sneaking glances at the ladies, Loren had taken it upon himself to introduce himself and his friends to them. They had chatted for a while, but Loren had been drawn to the one who was sitting back and studying more than participating. His buddies had pegged her for an ice queen, but Loren was intrigued and struck up a conversation. She was not exactly looking for company, but Loren had become mesmerized with everything about her and kept after her until he got her to talk. Long after his friends and the other women had tired of their conversations, Loren and Cassie had left their tables to go sit at the bar and talk alone. He learned that she was an engineer who worked on spaceframe design, an independent type who wasn’t hoping for some man to come along and try to impress her.

  He didn’t break it to her that he was a Confed pilot until the second hour of the conversation. It was inevitable- his knowledge of spacecraft design and operation impressed her, and eventually she asked what he did. Being gone as much as he was as a new pilot, he worried that all bets would be off when he told her, because what woman wanted to invest time in a guy who was gone as much as he was home? Things continued to go well, however. Fast forward a few happy years, and here he was, sitting alone in his cabin, wondering if her would get to continue writing the story of their lives…

  Josias Krent sat in the briefing room with his second in command, Officer Nestin, wondering if things were really taking this long or if he was just being made to wait in an attempt to make him uncomfortable and more amenable to bargaining with the Confed representatives. He had been sitting here for the better part of an hour while the Confeds had retired from the discussion to send the latest round of negotiation talking points up their food chain for review and comment.

  He had to at least admit that he was being treated well. After an escort by a sizable number of Confed capital ships to one of their mobile shipyards, Krent and Nestin had shuttled over to a Sabre class carrier for the preliminary negotiations. The Union and the rest of the Enkarran ships were orbiting together under the watchful eye of hundreds of trigger-happy Confederation crewmembers who were no doubt locking their targeting computers on the Enkarran vessels and imagining what it would be like to let fly with a volley of torpedoes.

  It had been several days now, with a schedule that repeated itself over and over. Krent had a grim picture of himself and Nestin conducting meetings here on this ship decades from now as the vessel floated dead in space, still with no progress having been made.

  Krent and Nestin would start the day with breakfast, served in a small wardroom that was off limits to any other of the carrier’s crewmembers other than the handlers who saw to the Enkarran’s needs and security. After that, they would have their first meeting of the day with the Confederation negotiators, which would end with Krent making a progress report to the rest of his fleet from the privacy of their cabin. He had even been allowed to being a private communication device whose encryption would in theory allow confidential conversations. After he conferred with the other Enkarran captains, it was back to the briefing room for another round. Eventually, the day would mercifully end and he would see if progress had been made. The food was good, their quarters were outfitted to host dignitaries, and they were treated well by the crewmembers they met, but Krent knew how the average Confed crewmember felt; he couldn’t blame them one bit.

  He had entered the negotiations with the hopes of aligning themselves with Confed in some sort of loose, mutually beneficial alliance that didn’t require the Enkarrans to join the Confederation or be persecuted as some sort of war criminal. So far, it seemed like his hosts might be receptive to the idea of letting Enkarran ships work their way into Confed fleets. It seemed their greatest concern, however, was whether the Enkarrans would be fired upon first by the Primans or the Confed vessels they might sail with. He had the feeling that something was going on with Confed’s Navy, and that his counterparts were dealing with some particular timeframe, which would also serve as a nice cooling-off period for the Confed troops to let their feelings about the Enkarrans simmer down. All he wanted was a chance at a redemption of sorts for the Enkarran people, to make up for their being used as tools by the Primans. And from a practical standpoint, once this was over, if the Enkarrans wanted to avoid the wrath of the Confederation and Talarans should they win, his people needed to do everything they could right now to build some bridges. His own feelings on his part in the invasion were less clear- he had relished doing his duty and serving his people, but now knew that he had to be the first to try and repair the damage that he and his fellows had done.

  His greatest area of concern that he repeatedly asked about during the sessions was the Navy’s authority to broker this deal in the first place. If their civilian government was gone and the military was running things, what right did they have to enter into such a sweeping arrangement? Would the deal be dissolved once civilians were put back in power?

  Unlike traditional diplomatic style negotiations, this meet was being conducted at face value, on the clock, between Krent and the Confed negotiators. Krent and the lead Confed man went back and forth, debating the merits and perils of the offers each other made. Ideas were traded, discussed openly, and notes were taken to relay to comrades for debate later. Usually, when diplomats met, there were too many people as well as media types present for any truly groundbreaking changes to be made. Nobody was going to offer up something grand and be denied or have their offer picked apart in the public eye, with the resultant loss of face. Statements were made and remade, and not much was really accomplished during formal sessions. It was after hours, during social events and dinners, and through the use of their aides as messengers that the diplomats routinely accomplished everything. Aides could send messages that their bosses were willing to compromise on this or that item, and at dinner later the diplomats themselves would quietly come to terms. That way, the next day in front of the media and with everyone present, they could make and accept prearranged and rehearsed offers in front of everyone.

  Krent looked up at the noise of the briefing room doors sliding open. The Confederation team of three briefcase-carrying officers entered the room and approached the table.
Krent and Nestin stood, and handshakes were dealt out all around.

  The lead Confed negotiator, a Drisk Commander, sat down and gave as much of a smile as Krent ever seen a Drisk let out.

  “I have good news. We feel we are close to final agreements on many of the issues we discussed this morning and would like to lock some items in. Are you ready for a long afternoon?”

  The briefing was a small and personal one conducted in Captain Elco’s cabin on Avenger. Loren, acting as XO, was there, as well as Cory, Merritt, Web, and two Intelligence officers who were responsible for processing much of the information that passed through Avenger.

  It had been called on short notice, and Loren had been dragged away from some issues that he was fairly engrossed in. He hoped it was important.

  As soon as all of them were present, Captain Elco asked them to sit down, having ordered a few extra chairs sent to his cabin for this purpose. The captain’s cabin was fairly roomy, with a space that was intended to serve as a briefing or work area, depending on the personal tastes of each captain. Loren noted with approval that the Captain’s cabin was noticeably cleaner and more organized than the last time he had stopped by. How the captain had managed to tidy up his quarters while at the same getting his ship ready for a major fleet action was something Loren made a note to ask him someday.