Criticism is welcomed. Address criticisms to [xazqrten@cox.net]
*****************************
In a passageway on the EAS Ares:
“I think you just dropped a revelation on your CIC crew back there,” said
Sanchez.
“I think in their hearts, they already knew. I’ve made a number of slips
recently. Several times, I almost answered questions before they were asked.
You can’t keep making mistakes with the people who work for me, and not expect
them to notice. These are very sharp people,” replied Susan, thoughtfully.
“It has occurred to me that you are now in the unenviable position of having
defended and saved people who would joyfully cut you up into pieces and feed
you to stray dogs.”
“You certainly have a way with words, general.”
“I don’t understand how you’ve been able to keep it together all these
years. You’ve always known how non-telepaths feel about telepaths. Hell, the
last hundred years of history documenting what has been done to telepaths is a
very black period in human history.”
“No blacker than any number of other periods, general. Humanity has always
managed to justify castigating and persecuting groups or individuals that could
be isolated from whatever was the prevailing mainstream.”
“You seem to handle it very well.”
“What choice do I have, general. It’s not like I can just say, ‘I don’t want
to be a telepath anymore’, and make the ability disappear. It’s like your skin
color or your sex. You’re stuck with it - and whatever that entails - good or
bad.”
“How will they get you to submit to the periodic scans? The former psi cop
said you couldn’t be scanned, not even if you wanted to be.”
“I don’t know. It won’t matter anyway; I’ve tendered my resignation; so, I
won’t have to sweat anything Earthforce dreams up, and if Lyta hires me, I’m
gone from Earth and EA space permanently.”
“That is one hell of a loss for Earthforce.”
“Not really, general. I’m only one officer out of many.”
“The ones out of the many that are as valuable as you, I can count on one
hand and have three fingers and a thumb left over. You’re very unique, and your
being a telepath just makes it more so. There has never been a telepathic
general, or CJCS or President of the EA. You bring experience to the arena that
absolutely none of the others, myself included, have. Your perspective is
absolutely unique. That has to count for something.”
“We’ll see when President Luchenko finds out.”
“Charles, her husband, will keep her on a short leash. She may be President,
but she damned sure isn’t omnipotent.”
“Here’s the wardroom. I have to go and put these politicians in their
places. They aren’t going to like it.”
“I know that really bothers you,” replied Sanchez, with sarcasm dripping
from the statement.
Susan gave him a look of resignation, such as a parent might give an
obnoxious child. Then she entered the wardroom.
Sanchez continued on his way sporting a smile of satisfaction on his face,
secure in the knowledge that Susan would work out just fine, and thinking,
[God, it’s been so long since we had one like her.]
*****************************
1340 onboard the lead breaching pod:
“There won’t be any gravity, men. I want two lines strung behind us as we
go. I want to be able to have rapid movement both to and from the breaching
pod.” Looking at the young telepath, he commented, “Captain Ivanova sent you
for a reason, and that is to get any information from any of the Drakh officers
we may find alive. I want you to stay back behind my men and me. Captain
Ivanova will have my ass if I let you get hurt, and I value my ass. Comprende,
senor?”
“Yes sir, colonel,” responded the young telepath.
A very large marine sitting next to him said, “Don’t worry kid. We won’t let
anything happen to you. Captain Ivanova was supposed to be coming along. By the
way, what’s your name?”
“Rodger Norton,” replied the telepath.
“I’ve sparred with Captain Ivanova. She’s a real kick-ass woman. Kicked mine
anyway.”
“You’re kidding,” responded Norton.
“No he isn’t,” chimed in another marine. “He won the match, but she
fractured his ribs.”
“Like I said, she’s a real kick-ass woman,” said the first marine.
“That’s the only kind of woman he likes,” chimed another marine. This
elicited laughter from the other marines.
“Okay people, look sharp. We’ll be cutting the entryway hole in about a
minute. Close up your suits. There are likely to be a very high radiation
levels in there, and I don’t want any unnecessary casualties!” snapped
Lieutenant Colonel Munoz.
There was a jolt and the breaching pod attached itself to the dreadnought’s
hull and began cutting a hole through it. There was a flurry of activity as the
marines finished putting on their helmets and checking one another’s suits one
final time.
*****************************
1350 hours in Earthdome Earthforce Headquarters:
General Bart Maddy was sitting behind his desk and drinking his third cup of
espresso since lunch. The doughnut on the paper plate was half eaten, and he
was thinking of how long it would take to work off the extra calories he had
taken in, when his communications panel beeped an incoming call.
“General Maddy, I have General Leftcourt on gold channel one. Shall I put
him through?” asked an unidentified voice from the speaker.
“By all means.” If Leftcourt was alive, at least the Ares wasn’t destroyed.
Maybe he could reduce the readiness condition.
“Afternoon Bart. As is obvious, we survived our trip to Mars. The immediate
danger has been removed, but we probably won’t get back until tomorrow or
possibly the day after. You’ll begin receiving reports before the hour is out.
We have a lot of dead and injured people up here, and even though the Ares
fared well, we have some badly damaged ships here. I’m going to work up a list
of things that I need you to get action started on. Let the Vice-President know
that all our political types are safe. I’m going to go now, so I can get the
list started.”
“I know some of the things you’re going to need, so I’ll get people on this
starting as soon as you ring off, general.”
*****************************
1350 hours in the wardroom onboard EAS Ares:
Ivanova stepped into the wardroom and closed the door behind her. “May I
have your attention, please?” she asked over the buzz of ongoing conversations.
An ensign at the back of the room announced, “Attention on deck! Captain in
the wardroom!” This got everyone’s attention.
“I have some information to dispense, gentlemen. Your undivided attention
will be appreciated,” stated Ivanova. Some conversational buzz continued. “I
said I wanted your undivided attention! If you don’t shut up and listen, I’ll
have you removed to the brig!” She continued. “I’m going to lay down the ground
rules for you to observe, until I can get you back to Earth.”
“When will that be, Captain?” Asked Senator Mathers.
“If you will shut up and listen, instead of talking to hear your head
rattle, you’ll learn!” snapped Ivanova.
“Do you know who I am, Captain?” Mathers retorted.
“I don’t give a damn at this particular moment, but if you don’t shut up and
listen, you will get to examine this ship’s brig facilities from the inside!
Now one more word out of you, and I’ll have security remove you! If you
understand, just nod your head!” snapped Susan, right back at him.
Mathers decided that she would do exactly what she said, and nodded his
head, yes.
“Now that I have your attention,” said Ivanova, “I’ll continue. You were
supposed to come aboard the Ares, get a guided tour, a nice lunch and attend
the change of command ceremony that was scheduled for about ten minutes or so
from now. Obviously, that scenario has been discarded. If you don’t already
know, we had to respond to a minor emergency at Mars this morning. We just
finished the first part of the response. If that were all there was to it, we
could be back in Earth orbit in time for you to be home for supper. However,
that’s not all there is to it. Several Earthforce ships were damaged. We are
rendering assistance as best we can, and this will require our remaining in
orbit around Mars. I will try and get your tour restarted as soon as I can.
Because of problems encountered today, we will be changing your tour
accordingly. We are using our hanger decks for medical purposes and they are
off-limits to all unauthorized personnel. This means you and anyone else not a
member of this ship’s medical staff. I can’t tell you how long we will remain
here until I learn more about the medical situation. We don’t know what else to
expect, so the ship is remaining at modified general quarters. When the
situation changes, I will inform you. If you want to try to make other
arrangements to get back to Earth, I will tell you now, Mars is over one-
hundred and twenty-eight million kilometers from Earth at the present time. A
normal space shuttle will take a week and a half to get there. We should be
returning in the next couple of days. I’m sure that General Leftcourt will
schedule a complete briefing about this situation for you, the President and
the news people. You can ask questions at that time.”
“You aren’t going to give us a chance to ask any questions, Captain?” asked
Mathers.
“That’s what I just said. Tell me, Senator, is there something wrong with
your hearing?” Inquired Ivanova. “Mrs. Lukens, you can check on your son. He’s
asleep, or he was asleep in my stateroom. Mary may have already fed him. I have
things to do, gentlemen. Good day.” With that Ivanova exited the wardroom.
Seething, Mathers fumed, “Just who in the hell does she think she is?”
“As near as I can tell, Senator Mathers, she thinks she is in charge of this
ship,” replied Mrs. Lukens.
Egan jumped in and said, “She is in charge, Senator Mathers. I firmly
believe her when she said she would throw people in the brig. After what we
have witnessed, I wouldn’t recommend baiting the good general. It could be
hazardous to your health --- literally.”
*****************************
1405 hours in the main gymnasium onboard EAS Ares:
Susan walked into the gym and looked over the reporters. These people made
her feel sick at her stomach. She had learned the hard way that news reporters
only wanted a story, regardless of any associated consequences. With this
thought firmly in mind, she said, “Could I have your attention for a few
minutes, please?” No one seemed to be paying any attention to her. She reached
for her communications system remote control and set in a number. Then she
repeated her request. This time it blared from the speakers mounted high up on
the gym walls. This got her everyone’s attention.
“I am going to lay out some ground rules for the rest of the time you are
aboard the Ares.” Then she read them the same riot act that she had read the
congressional delegation with a few additions. “There will be absolutely no
picture taking either in the hanger bays or in the vicinity of the hanger bays.
I won’t have the injured personnel be exploited by any of you.” Holding up her
hand at the grumbling that was starting, she continued. “If you violate these
limits that I have set, you will be taken to the brig, and your recording
equipment will be seized and destroyed on the spot. None of these points are
open for any debate. General Leftcourt will be holding a briefing for you
people, the President and the congressional delegation. Save your questions for
the briefing.” With that she departed the gymnasium and headed for the hanger
bays.
The lieutenant who was watching from the back of the gym said, “I wouldn’t
ignore the Captain’s warnings. She means every word she says.”
“She’s not very friendly, lieutenant,” commented one of the reporters.
“Maybe it’s the loss of several thousand Earthforce personnel and the
wounding of a thousand or more of them, along with the loss of the three ships
and the damage to the others. There is something about that much death and
destruction that ruins our day, sir. Besides, I have a feeling you will get to
see the hanger bays before this is all over with.”
*****************************
1415 in Ares’ hanger bay one:
Susan walked into hanger bay one and was introduced to an apparent plethora
of personnel hurrying from place to place in what at first appeared to be
condition of chaos. Closer scrutiny revealed that it was not chaos, but a
fairly well organized effort. Gurneys were being wheeled in and lined up with
racks attached to hold saline and glucose bottles and blood bags. In the middle
of the hubbub Captain Louise Harris, M.D., CMO of the EAS Ares, was watching
the efforts with great interest, occasionally making a comment, or barking an
order to keep things moving.
“Having a good time Lou?” asked Ivanova.
“No. I’m glad you insisted on all the drills while we were on deployment. We
have almost everything we need, Captain. We’ve been building up an impressive
supply of plasma, but we’re going to need a hell of a lot more fresh blood than
we have on hand. Our inventory shows that we have about two thousand pints in
storage. I’ve been going over the numbers of serious casualties we’re expecting
and that isn’t going to be nearly enough. I have queried the other ships. But
even with what we can get from them we are probably going to be short. We have
sent a request to the Mars government, but I haven’t heard anything from them,
yet. What’s worse is that we don’t have any blood to treat the aliens we’ll be
getting from the whitestars. No, Susan, I’m definitely not having a good time.
However, it is going to be very interesting,” replied Harris. “My xenobiologist
is brand new. He just finished his internship. The wounded we’re getting from
the whitestars run the gamut of races that are IA members. He is going to go
nuts. I’m also having security, supplemented by the marines, set up a perimeter
to keep non-medical personnel out of the hanger bays.”
“That’s a good idea. As for getting blood from the Mars government, we have
President Luchenko on board. Let’s have her call the President of the Mars
colonies and see if she is worth her salt.”
“Any efforts will be greatly appreciated, Captain.”
Susan activated her remote communications unit and called CIC. “Locate the
President and patch me through to her.”
As Susan was leaving the hanger bay, the President’s voice came over her
headset. She explained what the CMO needed, and about bargaining with Mars.
Luchenko didn’t seem to too happy about the situation.
Susan apologized for imposing on the President’s time and broke the circuit.
Then she called the communications center and ordered that an unencrypted
circuit be set up between her stateroom and the President of Edgar Industries
on Mars, Michael Garibaldi.
*****************************
1415 in executive officer’s stateroom/office:
Charles Luchenko was reciting the story of the Vorlon/Shadow War to his
wife. He had learned this from John Sheridan, in addition to a great deal of
information about the past misadventures of the indomitable Susan Ivanova,
including her brush with death, and how she escaped the appointment. The only
part Sheridan hadn’t told him about was the part that Jeffery Sinclair had
played, and its repercussions with the Minbari.
“Charles, this sounds like some kind of tale from the Arabian Nights. A
being that is as old as the universe? Give me a break!” retorted his wife.
“It’s not a tale, Susan. I had some discrete checks made into the things I
could, and they all check out. If you want, I will happily show you what was
checked and the results. It is a fact that Ivanova was so badly injured during
the battle with Clark’s advanced destroyer group that even the Minbari doctors
couldn’t help her. They had given her less than a week to live. We found
references to the healing/execution machine in years-old records in the Babylon
5 computer banks, which, by the way, holds the records of all court proceedings
that have occurred there since the station went operational. Doctor Franklin’s
records were especially interesting.”
“I still don’t see any purpose to why you are telling me all this. Do you
expect me to give her a hug, and tell her I’m sorry about how I’ve interacted
with her? No way, Charles. It’s just not going to happen. She is a conceited,
spoiled brat that has been allowed to progress farther up the ladder than she
should have. When I get finished, with her, her career will be nonexistent.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Susan. You’re painting some very good people into
an intolerable corner.”
Sneering at her husband, she said, “Really. Am I supposed to act scared, or
what?”
“That won’t be necessary; however, you might entertain the thought of
updating your resume as soon as we get back to Earth.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“Not at all, sweetheart. I have given you many reasons to reconsider your
situation with Ivanova. Somehow, I don’t think anything I can say at this point
will have any effect on you.”
She considered that his last statement was essentially an admission of
defeat. He never gave up this easily. Something serious was afoot, and she had
no clue as to what it might be, but, somehow, it revolved around Susan Ivanova.
She thought about all that he had told her in the last fifteen or twenty
minutes and had to admit that if it were all true, then Susan Ivanova was one
hell of a lucky person, if luck were the proper term. Somehow, she didn’t
believe that either. Her observations of Ivanova since this morning was that
the woman was extremely competent, even if she did make her want to scream.
Thinking back to how Ivanova had behaved about the attack on Babylon 5, she
began to grudgingly accept that maybe Ivanova would be the type of person who
could stare down a being that could kill you with a stray thought.
“While you’re thinking over what I’ve just finished telling you, you might
as well read this, and pay particular attention to the charts and graphs,” said
Charles Luchenko, getting up off the couch to hand his wife a data pad. She
had appropriated the chair behind the XO’s desk.
President Luchenko had been studying the information on the data pad for
about five minutes when the communications panel signaled an incoming
call. “Who could be calling?” asked President Luchenko, rhetorically.
Charles stepped over to the panel and keyed it to accept the call. “XO’s
office, this is CIC. Is President Luchenko down there?”
“Who wants to know?” queried the President.
“Captain Ivanova is trying to reach you, Ma’am.”
“Put her through,” replied Charles Luchenko.
“Madam President. I’ve conferred with my CMO about our preparations for
providing medical assistance to the ships present. We have everything we need
except a sufficient supply of whole blood. We have canvassed the ships present
and still come up short. My CMO has asked me to request any assistance you
might be able to provide in helping to obtain additional blood supplies from
the Mars government,” stated Ivanova.
“I am afraid that dealing with the Mars government in such a fashion is
quite outside of accepted protocol, Captain. The best I can do is make our
ambassador aware of the situation and let him handle it through the proper
diplomatic channels,” responded President Luchenko.
“I understand, Madam President. My apologies for imposing on your time.”
Then she broke the circuit.
“Do you understand what you just did?” asked her husband.
“I let her know that she doesn’t give all the orders around here.”
“She wasn’t giving orders. She was asking for help. There are going to
probably be more that a thousand casualties come aboard this ship and they will
need all the help they can get. This ship’s records contain virtually every
word and image that has passed over the communications circuits on the ship. I
have no doubts that this last one will be recorded somewhere.”
“So what?”
“You read and studied the information contained in that data pad. Why do you
think our party went to the trouble to assemble it? They did it because we
learned that the opposition had already done one for themselves. They are
trying to find a way to run her against our candidate next election. That
candidate, at present, is surely going to be you. If they manage to convince
her to run, you are out. That’s what those graphs and tables literally scream.
In a contest with Ivanova as your opponent, no matter which way we juggle the
numbers, you’ll get buried. Do you think we will allow that if we can prevent
it? Now you blow the chance to get your name in the headlines by helping with
this blood problem. What are you thinking with?”
“I hate Susan Ivanova, and that’s all there is to it.”
“She hates you, too, but she doesn’t let it interfere with her doing her
job. What’s with you, anyway? You must have a political death wish, so I’m
going to be blunt. Your actions over the last year have some very important
people asking why they ever supported you. It’s no skin off my nose, because
I’m not running for anything, but for what it’s worth, you had better get your
act together. I can’t be any plainer than that. Last, but not least, Susan
Ivanova doesn’t belong to any political party, and if push comes to shove, our
people are not above trying to convince her to head up our ticket. If she runs,
she wins, period. So, whoever gets her is probably going to get both houses of
the legislature to boot.”
His wife looked at him with an expression of disbelief on her face, but said
nothing.
*****************************
1435 in Ivanova’s stateroom/office:
By the time Susan had sat down behind her desk with a cup of hot tea, the
communications panel was signaling an incoming call. “Accept call!”
“Acceptance requires input of commanding officer’s personal decryption
code,” intoned the computer voice from the communications panel.
[What the hell? Who could possibly be calling me using my personal code?]
thought Susan thoroughly puzzled by the situation. After thinking about if for
a few seconds, she began to feel a knot of fear and apprehension start to grow
in her belly. [Only Earthforce headquarters would be calling using my personal
code.] A few seconds later, her apprehension turned to dread. Personal codes
were only used for transmissions that were very private for the recipient only.
It prevented the ship’s communicators from eavesdropping on private
communications. She knew before she entered her code that it almost certainly
had to be about Charles. Hoping against what she knew was coming, and
remembering what always seemed to happen when she got into a relationship, she
said, “Decode using Ivanova code charlie-alpha-five-kilo-x-ray-x-ray-three-
seven-golf-golf-sierra.”
The image of an Earthforce general replaced the Ares logo on the
display. “Captain Ivanova. I am General Bart Maddy... .”
Cutting him off in mid sentence, Susan asked, “How did it happen, General
Maddy?”
The expression on Maddy’s face at the question was shock. Before he could
respond, Susan continued, “Charles has been killed hasn’t he?”
Maddy was at a loss for words. His image just stared out of the display,
speechless.
“General, the only reason you would call me at this time using my private
code would be if it were something very personal. The only thing I can think of
that would meet that criteria at this time would be bad news about my husband.
If he were only injured, you would have simply sent a message. Therefore, I
assume he has been killed.”
If Susan could have seen the officers in the area of Maddy’s communication
system, she would have seen three Earthforce captains with stunned expressions
dominating their faces in addition to the stunned general.
“I’m waiting, General Maddy,” commented Susan.
“Unfortunately, you are correct, Captain Ivanova. Your husband was killed in
an automobile accident at ten-twenty hours your time this morning. I am very
sorry.”
“Thank you, General Maddy. I appreciate the private call. I have my hands
full with casualties from four warlocks and several whitestars, and I really
didn’t need this. This is quickly turning into a typical Susan Ivanova bad-hair
day.”
Maddy’s image vanished to be replaced with the smiling face of Michael
Garibaldi. “Good morning, Susan. What can I do for you?”
Fighting back tears, Susan almost choked when she spoke. “I have some
problems, Mike. My CMO tells me we have too many casualties for the available
blood supply. We’re going to be getting wounded personnel from the whitestars
and those will include any number of non-humans. I was hoping you could use
your influence to scrape up some more blood and maybe even some doctors. I’ll
see to it that everything is paid for, including labor costs of the doctors.
I’m not asking for any freebies. I have three ships destroyed and four more
shot all to hell, not including the whitestars. Several of them have been
destroyed or very badly damaged. The others have all been damaged to some
extent. Even we took some minor damage.”
“I’ll get my people on it immediately. It would help if we could talk
directly to your CMO. By the way, congratulations on your recent marriage.”
“I’ll keep this channel open and have her tied into it.” Then she
added, “Michael, we have President Luchenko on board. Would you believe she
refused to call the President of Mars and ask for assistance? Said it would
breach protocol.” Sneering, Susan continued, “She offered to contact her
ambassador and let him call your ambassador and go through proper channels.”
“You went into combat with the Earth Alliance President on board. I wish my
balls were that big!”
Five minutes later Susan’s CMO was in communication with Robert Bryson,
Michael’s general purpose, do it all, handyman/spook.
“I owe you big time, Michael,” said Susan just before she signed off the
channel.
In his office on Mars, Garibaldi looked at the image of Susan’s CMO as she
gave information to Bryson, and thought to himself, [Like hell you do. We owe
you everything.] He also noted that she had apparently ignored his
congratulations on her marriage. He made a mental note to ask her about it when
he communicated with her again.
*****************************
1445 in the XO’s stateroom/office:
“I need to contact Earthdome, Charles. By now the place must be a madhouse,
what with our sudden departure and now this situation.”
Charles stepped over to the communications panel and very shortly had a gold
channel open with the President’s official office. The press secretary was
looking out of the display at him. “Mister Addley, just the fellow the
President is looking for.”
“If you don’t mind, Charles, I want this to be private.”
Charles left the stateroom and walked down the passageway to the flag mess.
*****************************
1450 in the flag mess:
Leftcourt was talking with Bart Maddy on a gold channel when Charles
Luchenko came into the room.
“Bart, I believe you know Charles. He’s getting an ulcer today.”
“Not really, Tom, but the stomach acid is having a field day,” replied
Charles.
“I don’t have the numbers yet, Bart, but from what I can gather we are going
to have close to two thousand casualties to deal with. I’ll try and get better
figures from the ship’s CMO when she can spare me a minute. I’m not going to
bother her when she’s hip deep in bodies.”
“You’re lucky, general. You have the only combatant in Earthforce that is
fully equipped to handle mass casualties, and you have the most experienced CMO
in Earthforce. She has seen thousands of combat casualties in her time. Some
of us are thinking it’s long past time when she should have been wearing a
star.”
“I know how fortunate we are this time. If the Ares wasn’t here, we would be
losing most of these people. The other ships have been so badly damaged that
their medical facilities are almost unusable, for a variety of reasons. I’m
betting the Sinclair is going to be a total loss. The other three warlocks are
bad, and it may be a week or more before we can get a good handle on them.”
“Nothing personal, general, but better you than me,” remarked Maddy.
“I’ll be calling back as soon as anything changes, Bart. Drink one for me.”
“This is a mess, Tom. The political fallout is going to look like someone
dropped a dirty nuke on the President’s desk,” commented Maddy, as he signed
off.
“It didn’t have to be that way. You know she’s going to try to hang Ivanova
out to dry over this. She knows she needs the points. Her poll figures have
become downright dismal,” noted Leftcourt, after Maddy had broke the circuit.
“It may be worse than that. I showed her this, in the hopes it would cause
her to see some kind of reason for changing her tactics with the captain,” said
Charles.
“Let me see that, please.”
Charles handed Leftcourt the data pad. “I think you will find it interesting
reading.”
Leftcourt spent the next five minutes reading the information from the data
pad screen. Occasionally, Leftcourt looked up at him with a perplexed
expression on his face. Finally he asked, “Would you mind if I showed this to
someone else?”
“Who’d you have in mind?”
“The center attraction of course.”
“I thought you wanted to keep her on active duty. Someone told me you
thought that in a couple of years you could slide her in as your replacement.
I’d think there would be screams of indignation from your brethren about that.”
“Only for a little while. If she does as well as I think she can, at the
assignments I have planned for her, there won’t be much more than a peep, and
that’ll be from whatever Clark holdovers remain on active duty. If I have my
way about it, they’ll all be gone, including me, after she takes over of
course.”
“You know that both major parties, and any other political entity worth a
damn are going to be dogging her. She doesn’t have any known party affiliation,
so she’s up for grabs. Hell, Tom, even an endorsement from her would be worth
five or ten percent of the vote. She might even be able to convince the voters
who would normally not bother to get out and vote. For someone who rarely gets
her name in the news, she surely has a large following. That should tell anyone
with a brain cell something.”
“Ivanova is one of those people who respond to dogging by digging in their
heels. Whoever gets her is going to have to do it on her terms. Do you
seriously think any of the political parties will stand for that?”
“Tom, for a sure win that would have coattails long enough to get control of
the legislature at the same time, any of them would pimp their own mother.
Remember, they are politicians.”
“Don’t let your wife hear you say that.”
“Why not. It won’t be the first time I’ve reminded her of it.”
“Charles, you... are a work of art.”
“Thank you... I think.”
*****************************
1530 somewhere in a passageway on the dreadnought:
“Colonel Munoz,” asked Norton, “Could we capture one of these Drakh alive. I
might be able to pull the location of their command center from its mind. It
would save us some time.”
“You people heard the man. He wants one alive,” said Munoz.
The marines had lost four of their number to Drakh resistance. Three had
been wounded and one killed. The marines had during this time killed more that
a hundred Drakh. In truth, some of the Drakh had been barely breathing. There
had not been much resistance, and what there was had been was sporadic. PPG
type of weapons fire did not need someone in good condition to be able to kill
you. It only required the strength to aim the weapon and pull the trigger.
Within fifteen minutes the marines had captured three Drakh alive and Norton
had scanned them. He had gotten not only the location of the command center,
but had been fortunate enough to get images of the commanding officer and his
first and second in command. Norton began to believe that their objective
concerning the Drakh future plans might actually be achievable.
*****************************
1530 hours in the flag mess aboard EAS Ares:
“Madam President, we planned on you returning this afternoon. The meetings
we have scheduled for tomorrow can’t be rescheduled,” pleaded Luchenko’s chief
of staff.
“We have or are taking onboard in excess of a thousand wounded from the
ships in the area. There is no way General Ivanova is going to get underway
until this crises is under control, and as much as I hate to agree with her,
she is correct. Those meetings are for trade purposes. The Ares is involved in
a lifesaving mission. Do the math Fred. If I manage to make her return to
Earth, everything we are working for is history, as will be my career and quite
likely our party’s hopes in the next election. I’m afraid the right thing to do
is also the politically expedient thing, too.”
“It’s your call, of course, Madam President. It’s just that I would be
remiss in my duties if I didn’t at least advance the point.”
“If things should change, you’ll be the first one I notify.”
*******************************
1600 in hanger bay two:
Doctor Louise Harris was operating on her third patient. They had already
lost four human patients, since beginning to receive the worst of the wounded.
She had been lucky. She had managed to resuscitate her second patient who had
suffered two cardiac arrests during his surgery. Her young xenobiologist had
already worked on members of three different races. He was holding up well, all
things considered.
A young marine in medical garb and wearing a mask, her present connection
with the communications center, stepped in close and informed her. “Dr. Harris,
the first shuttle from Mars just launched. It is carrying one thousand units of
whole blood, including blood for Narns, Drazi, Centauri and Pak’ma rha. They
are bringing eight doctors with experience in treating war injuries.” Doctor
Harris nodded acknowledgment and continued her operating.
*****************************
1630 somewhere in a passageway on the dreadnought:
“Okay men. The command and control center (C&CC) is on the other side of
that door. We’ll try forcing it open manually. I don’t want to destroy anything
with explosives if we can avoid it. Mister Norton, you stay well back until we
have secured the area,” ordered Lieutenant Colonel Munoz.
Norton watched as the marines quickly drilled a series of holes in the door
to give purchase to the jacks and other equipment they had assembled in front
of the door. The manually operated hydraulic equipment had already been used to
force a couple of doors, more for drill than necessity.
It took all of fifteen minutes to force the door open. The marines quickly
moved through the door. There was no evidence of resistance, which meant that
all inside were either already dead or too weak to offer any resistance.
Two minutes after Munoz and his marines had entered the C&CC, Norton was
called inside. The only light available, besides the illumination provided by
the headlamps worn by the marines, was a very low red glow from hidden
emergency lighting. Norton was greeted by the sight of console operators either
already dead at their consoles from the radiation, or from mercy shots to the
head by Munoz’s troops. There were only three Drakh in the space that were
still alive and they obviously wouldn’t be that way for very long. Norton
stepped over to the nearest Drakh and recognized him as the intelligence
officer.
Norton stood in front of the Drakh and reached out and touched the side of
his head. He had scanned several other Drakh for practice and to familiarize
himself with their thought patterns. His experiences had made him aware that if
these Drakh weren’t so close to death he wouldn’t be able to scan them.
Concentrating he pushed into the Drakh’s mind. It was a mess. The fellow was in
the process of dying. Quickly, Norton pushed as hard as he could. He got a
fleeting image of Earth and humanity being destroyed, but before he could get
more than the vague impression he was getting, the Drakh died.
Very quickly, Norton stepped over to the Drakh commander. He didn’t hesitate
to push as hard as possible to scan the being. Once again all he could get was
a vague impression of the destruction of Earth and humanity. However, this time
he got a clear image of the planet exploding. A few moments later, the Drakh
died with what could only be a smile on his lips.
“Did you get anything useful, Mister Norton?” asked Munoz.
“I don’t think so, colonel. They were too far gone. I only got impressions,
but they are enough to give me nightmares,” replied Norton.
Munoz spoke softly into his suit microphone and made a short report to CIC
on the Ares.
*****************************
1645 in Ivanova’s stateroom/office:
Susan’s headset earpiece came alive with a voice from CIC. “Captain Ivanova,
we have just been informed by Colonel Munoz that they have located the Drakh
ship’s C&C and are trying to break into it. They have suffered four casualties
so far with one dead. He says he’ll call again after they capture the C&C. He
also said that adding Mister Norton to his team is turning out to have been an
excellent idea.”
Susan acknowledged the report and immediately made a mental note to make
sure General Marsh was made aware of Norton’s contributions. Making sure
telepaths got all the good press possible wouldn’t hurt their image.
She had spent the last two hours writing reports and making recordings to be
added to the other commanding officer’s messages to the relatives of personnel
who had been killed by her friendly fire. [Odd about calling it ‘friendly’
fire, since it is anything but friendly,] she thought to herself. Her
introspection and thoughts about Charles were interrupted by a knock on her
door. “Enter!”
General Leftcourt entered the room and sat down on her couch. She didn’t
even look up. “Just the man I need. I promised the congressmen and news people
that you would give them a briefing on today’s activities and what they can’t
write about. Now, what can I do for you, general?”
“I thought I might check and see how the report writing is coming along. You
obligated me to give these people a briefing? When did I go to work for you?”
“Tell me another one, general, and remember, lying to a telepath is a waste
of time. When I said you would give them a briefing, I assumed you would have
someone on your staff do it.”
“Are you reading my mind? I can do that. Manuel can see to it. He’s the
resident spook, so to speak.”
“No I didn’t read your mind, I have too many other things to do without
wasting my time doing that. Besides, what makes you think you know anything
that I’d be interested in?”
“I’m glad you are in a good mood.”
“I’m not. I’m in a miserable mood, general. Now, what can I do for you?”
“You might try being civil.”
Susan raised her head and looked at him. He noticed the evidence of crying
in her eyes. “Something is very wrong. What is it, Susan?”
“When was the last time you talked to General Maddy, general?”
“About fifteen minutes ago. He’s handling preparations for meeting us when
we get back to Earth and taking the wounded off our hands. He’s also
coordinating estimates and actions for the damaged warlocks. He’s doing there
what you’ve been doing here, busting ass to make the best of very bad
situation. My hats off to you for the response of the Mars government to our
request for assistance. You obviously know some real movers and shakers there.”
“Do you know what the President’s response to my request for assistance in
getting Mars government to aid us was?”
“Her husband told me. I don’t know what’s happening to her. She used to be a
tough bird and have good instincts about situations surrounding her. He’s
getting very irritated about her behavior.”
“She’s a politician. What’s there to be disappointed about? That’s the
trouble with most people. They really expect politicians to act with dignity
and responsibility,” she laughed. It was not a lighthearted humorous laugh.
“What kind of politician would you make, Susan?”
She looked at him like he was crazy. “I couldn’t be a politician, general.
You have to sell your soul to special interests, and let yourself be ‘handled’
by the ‘pros’. I can’t do that. I do things my own way. I pay the piper, and I
damn well expect to tell him what to play. You don’t last long in the political
arena with that philosophy. Give me a good ten-to-one odds against me in a
shoot-out with the Drakh any day.”
“You only feel that way because it’s what you’ve been trained for. I think
you would make a very good politician, and so do a good many others.”
When he said that, Susan looked up at him again, pushed the data pad away
and asked, “Just what are you driving at, General Leftcourt? I don’t think I
like where this conversation is going.”
“Where is this conversation going?”
Looking thoughtfully at him, she replied, “You tell me.” Then she reclaimed
the data pad and resumed entering data.
Leftcourt stood at the door and turned and asked, “If you think this is the
last you are going to hear about this, you are fooling yourself, because it
isn’t.”
Under her breath, Susan mumbled, “God, get me out of this loony bin.”
As he pulled the door shut on his way out, Leftcourt tossed back, “I heard
that.”
Susan was already lost in what she was entering into the data pad. Later,
she would notice a data pad on the couch, where none had been before.
*****************************
1700 in a passageway on the Ares:
“Captain Owens?” asked George White, catching up with Pat Owens, “If it’s
possible, I’d like to speak with General Wayne. I know she’s been busy, but I
only need a few minutes.”
“Mister White, I just saw and spoke to General Leftcourt. Captain Ivanova is
in no mood to see anyone. However, you impress me as a man who is not easily
swayed from a mission. So, I’m going to take you to her stateroom. Just let me
get a few hundred meters away before you knock on her door.”
“No problem, Captain. There’s no reason for you to catch hell because of
me.”
A few minutes later, Owens pointed to the door to Susan’s stateroom. “This
is it, Mister White. You’re on your own.”
White waited until Owens was well down the corridor then he knocked on the
door.
*****************************
1710 in Ivanova’s stateroom/office:
“Captain Sheraun, I was wondering if I could ask a favor,” said Susan to the
image on her communications display screen.
“If I can do it, just ask.”
Susan was interrupted by a knock on her door. “Enter!” She ordered.
George White opened her door and stepped inside. “If I might have a few
minutes of your time, General Wayne?”
“Who might you be?”
“Your attorney. My name is George White. I represent... .” Susan cut him off
with a motion of her hand.
“In a minute, Mister White. Let me finish with Captain Sheraun first. What I
need is a way of getting President Luchenko and the politicians with her back
to Earth ASAP. They’re in my way, but that won’t be what I tell them to get rid
of them. I have a bunch of news people over here too, but I can’t think of a
really good reason to send them packing.”
“We can carry them back in a shuttle. You load them up, we will transport
them, with them staying in the shuttle. It’s only a short jump to Earth orbit.
We can drop them low enough in the atmosphere to prevent anyone getting a shot
at them. Just give me at least fifteen minutes warning.”
“Thank you, Sheraun.”
Susan broke the circuit and turned to face White. “My attorney?”
“Most certainly. My firm has been retained to represent you in the lawsuit
that the Arklands have filed.”
“Stand up, Mister White, and turn around slowly, please?” White did as she
requested.
“Mister White, I can’t afford your shoeshine expenses, much less pay your
fee.”
“You don’t have to. It’s already been funded by a group of people who only
identified themselves as being concerned friends of yours.”
“You mean, you don’t even know who they are?”
“That’s correct. They set up a blind account in a Mars bank that has a
branch in Earthdome. We submit expense receipts to the bank manager and the
funds are transferred into our accounts. The manager did tell us that there are
about thirty million credits in that account. Whoever they are, money is
apparently no object.”
“Well, tell me about this Arkland lawsuit.”
White handed her the lawsuit papers in response. “This will explain what the
Arklands want. After you read the papers, we’ll talk.”
*****************************
1710 in the flag mess:
“General Leftcourt, I have some meetings tomorrow that I absolutely have to
attend. I can’t reschedule them,” said President Luchenko.
“Have you informed Susan of your situation?”
“She has a problem dealing with her,” commented Charles Luchenko.
“I assume you’re aware that we’re in the process of taking wounded
Earthforce personnel aboard for treatment,” replied Leftcourt.
“I’m aware that I have to get back to Earth immediately, general. There are
three warlock destroyers here that can still get underway,” shot back the
President.
“I’m aware. None of their jump engines are functioning at this time. It
wouldn’t hurt you to inform Susan of your plight. She’s not without resources.
After all, there is a shuttle on its way here from Mars, carrying much needed
blood and additional doctors.”
“She works for you, General Leftcourt. You order her to take us back to
Earth.”
Leftcourt stepped over to the communications station and called Ivanova’s
stateroom.
*****************************
1713 in Ivanova’s stateroom/office:
Susan was engrossed in reading the court papers, White had handed to her,
when the communications panel chirped an incoming call.
“Accept call!”
“Susan, we have a problem,” said Leftcourt’s image from the communications
display.
Studying the image for a few seconds, Susan responded, “Do you have a frog
in your pocket, general?”
Leftcourt looked puzzled by the response. “We have a problem. The President
absolutely has to get back to Earth before tomorrow. She has some meetings that
can’t be rescheduled. After all, she would have already been back if this
situation hadn’t come up.”
“When would be most convenient, general?” Asked Susan.
Her reply had left Leftcourt speechless. His mouth moved, but no sound came
forth. Then gaining his composure, he said, “I don’t understand?”
Ivanova replied, “You said we have a problem. I asked if you had a frog in
your pocket, and you didn’t answer. Then you again said we had a problem, in
that the President absolutely had to get back to Earth. Then I asked you, when
would be convenient. I think that about covers it.”
“What do you mean by when would be convenient?”
“I’ll make it really simple, General Leftcourt. When does she want to
leave?” answered Ivanova. “Also, are you going to arrange a briefing for her
and her entourage before they leave?”
“I’ll get back to you,” he replied breaking the connection.
“Are you always this far ahead of the people around you?” asked White.
“Not usually. I was XO of Babylon for just over four years. During that time
I had to deal with alien ambassadors, their minions and what not for a quarter
of a million beings every day, in addition to the crap Earth-Gov threw at us.
That’s why I asked Sheraun to supply transportation for them. Sort of cut them
off at the pass, so to speak.”
White looked at her questioningly.
“It’s a cliché from old western movies. My friend Michael Garibaldi is a old
time movie buff.” Saying this, she returned to reading the legal papers.
*****************************
1716 in the flag mess:
“I suppose the next question is when do you want to leave?”
“When is this briefing she mentioned?” asked the President.
“Manuel told me he would be ready before 1800 hours. It will take about
forty minutes or so, not counting questions.”
“Questions?”
“I figure the senators and news people are going to have some questions. It
gives us a chance to further define what is out of bounds due to security
considerations.”
“Then, it isn’t asking too much to be headed back toward Earth by 2000
hours, is it?”
“I shouldn’t think so.”
“Just make sure it doesn’t, general.
Leftcourt stopped at the door on his way out of the room, turned and
asked, “Don’t you wonder that she already had arranged transportation?” Then he
closed the door on his way out.
“He has a valid point. How did she know to have transportation already
arranged for, and better yet, how did she arrange it?” asked Charles Luchenko.
“You are smitten by the good general, Charles.”
“I don’t think so. She’s been several steps ahead of the situation at every
turn today. Once and I think luck, twice and I think fantastic luck, more than
that smacks of experience, foresight and extreme competence.”
“Why are all you men so taken with her? Is it simply because she has a nice
ass, or what?”
“A better question is, why are you the only one blind to her accomplishments
and obvious abilities?”
The President fumed.
“Hating her isn’t going to change reality... not in a million years. Your
hatred is something I simply cannot fathom. She has never done anything to you.
You only met her for the first time this morning. It makes no sense whatsoever.”
“I don’t have to explain myself to you. And, I don’t particularly care what
you think about the matter.”
*****************************
END PART 11
part 12
Back to Aubrey's