Address criticisms to [xazqrten@cox.net] 
 
************************************

In Earthdome, very late afternoon, Friday, 31 August 2266:

   General Leftcourt and the JCS were having an unscheduled meeting called by 
General Gabriel Mendleson. The assignment of General Susan Ivanova-Wayne was 
the topic of discussion. Mendleson was complaining that Susan was running wild 
at the Stockton base. He was arguing that her opening of an investigation into 
the background of Lieutenant Colonel Ira King was completely uncalled for. 
Certainly King had been out of place in his lack of respect, but Mendleson kept 
heatedly complaining that the offense didn’t merit a full-scale investigation, 
especially of events that had already been dismissed in court.

   General Leftcourt’s aide handed him a sheaf of papers. Leftcourt could 
plainly see that certain parts had been marked with a yellow highlighting 
marker pen. He quickly read the pertinent parts while Mendleson was engaged in 
his tirade.

   Leftcourt raised his hand. “Enough, Gabriel. You agreed to her assignment 
when it was brought up just after she deployed with the Ares. You thought it 
was a great idea then. Nothing you’ve said here today warrants rehashing that 
vote. She was nominated by the President and has been confirmed by the Senate 
for her star. It’s a done deal.”

   “Tom, we’re giving a runny-nosed, too-young junior general entirely too much 
power. She’s going to be in a position to order the closing of some military 
bases. That should be left to the Legislature or a committee impaneled by them.”

   “Senator Randolph got to you. Didn’t he?” stated Leftcourt.

   “Of course not, Tom.”

   Leftcourt passed a sheet of paper to Mendleson. “Read the high-lighted part 
aloud, Gabe,” ordered Leftcourt.

   The other three generals sat silently and listened and watched. They had 
heard the rumors too that Mendleson was retiring before the next Senate 
elections. The word was that he was going to be tapped as a replacement for 
Senator Bradford Hodges, who was retiring at the end of his present term. They 
were also well aware that there were three minor military installations in 
Hodges’ area that were only being kept open because of his clout in the Senate. 
When he left those bases would become fair game. General Wayne would 
undoubtedly find good reason to make them go away. She had a reputation for 
being efficient... amongst other things.

   General Igor Gorski asked, “I don’t suppose all the indictments coming out 
of the King investigation have anything to do with you losing faith in General 
Wayne, do they, Gabe?”

   Mendleson reacted to the question by giving Gorski a dirty look, before he 
quickly regained his composure; this momentary lapse was obvious to everyone at 
the table. Whatever inference the other generals and their aides were drawing 
from Mendleson’s slip was going to be left undisclosed until General Leftcourt 
spoke up.

   “Igor’s right, Gabe. You seem a bit too upset by that chain of events. I 
mean... hell, we were all on duty during Clarke’s regime, but none of us 
actively supported him. I even led the final defense against Sheridan’s forces. 
So, what’s really bothering you?”

   Mendleson sat silently and thought for a full minute before responding. “I’d 
rather not say at this time, Tom. Susan Wayne is going to visit destruction 
upon us if we don’t cancel her orders. She is nothing more than a hired gun for 
Lunchenko and those bastards of hers in the Legislature.”

   “Crap, Gabe. You fought for her to be given this assignment. You even crowed 
that since she owed nothing to anyone in Earthforce or Earthdome that she was 
perfect for the job. If you want a political career after you retire, be my 
guest, and you have my best wishes, but Susan is going to stay where she is. 
There’s a very good reason for that decision.”

   “Such as, Tom?”

   Leftcourt passed around copies of several sheets of paper. “First, she never 
signed a new commitment contract, so she can quit on a moments notice. Keep 
that in mind as you read these sheets.”

   Three minutes later, sipping on his umpteenth cup of coffee for the day, 
Leftcourt asked, “Is there anyone at this table who doesn’t understand what 
that information means?”

   Mendleson looked confused. “Whom would she run for?”

   “Anyone who could convince her, Gabe. Her political affiliation is not 
known. She could even make a run for it as an independent. The data show that 
she would cause a run-off, and that she would win the run-off. What’s worse 
from a certain point of view is that she now has a bank account of about 
seventy million credits at her disposal. She could even finance her own run.”  

   “Seems that she has the winning hand, Tom,” admitted Mendleson. 

   “I’d rather think that we have the trump card and it’s she.”

   Mendleson looked around the table. “Are you guys comfortable with letting 
her do this?”

   Gorski smiled, “I am. After all, she is a Russian, and I want to see where 
she takes it. She’s no idiot, even if she is a hard-ass.”

   The other two generals kept whatever feelings they had to themselves. They 
had supported the idea of giving her this assignment when it was first brought 
up and they hadn’t seen or heard anything to make them change their minds. Both 
had unvoiced questions about Mendleson’s concern over the King scenario.

   Mendleson asked, “Have any of you seen the list of people that are now being 
investigated as a result of General Wayne’s instigating the investigation of 
LtCol. King?”

  “Exactly what are you trying to say, Gabe?” queried Leftcourt.

  “I’m led to believe that a number of people are being investigated that had 
nothing to do with Nightwatch and that a number of people who were originally 
exonerated are now being reinvestigated. Just who is arranging all this for 
her?”

  “As near as I can tell, it’s a network that was originally set up to topple 
Psi Corps. There are some really rich, powerful, and influential people behind 
it. The network never went away after Psi Corps fell on its face. It seems that 
one of its original founders; a former chief warrant officer named Michael 
Garibaldi - now head of Edgars Industries - is also a best friend of Susan’s. 
It’s also not illegal for her to associate with them, but it looks like she 
doesn’t have any real contact with them except with one of their operatives, 
for lack of a better term. According to our best intel, Mr. Garibaldi was 
really screwed over by Psi Corps, and he was a part of the rebel forces until 
he resigned, just before Sheridan’s final push started. I don’t suppose he had 
much love for Psi Corps and even less for anyone even remotely connected with 
Nightwatch,” explained Leftcourt. 

   “Where are you getting this information, Tom?” asked Gorski.

   “From Manuel Sanchez and his people. I’ve had them checking up on Susan and 
anyone she interacts with ever since we issued her present orders to her. You 
might be surprised at what she’s been up to. For instance, we’ve learned that 
she is having a program developed to generate a database that will be able to 
tell you what anyone in Earthforce has done in his or her official capacity for 
the last seven years. I mean if you’ve signed a requisition for paper clips, 
she’ll be able to display it on a monitor. She’ll also be able to display 
everyone who handles a requisition and takes or doesn’t take an action on it. 
I’m told that her intent is to identify positions that serve no useful purpose. 
I can see where that might scare the hell out of a lot of people.”

   “That’s my point, Tom. These positions represent real people. To her, 
they’re just positions to be deleted ... no compassion, no feelings, just 
delete them.”

   “We’re going to wait and see how she approaches the task. She was executive 
officer of Babylon 5 for almost five years. She has had to deal with people 
from all over the galaxy and our military too. She managed to do that without 
shoving anybody out of an airlock; so, I’m not ready to jerk her chain just 
yet. Besides, if we do and she quits, we are up the creek. Luchenko wants her 
in this position because she herself and the legislature are prevented from 
doing just this kind of thing by at least a half-dozen of the new laws that 
were rushed thought immediately after Clark fried his brains. Maybe after the 
dust settles and cooler heads are elected sometime in the future, things will 
be different, but this isn’t the future.”

   “Look at the bright side of things, Gabe, she has a reputation for not 
playing favorites. Hell, she’s as likely to hang your enemies as your friends,” 
grinned Gorski

   “What about the civilians who get caught up in her dealings?” asked 
Mendleson.

   “The federal courts will deal with them. We’ll give the Attorney General all 
of our data, and then it’s her ballgame. As I remember it, she has some real 
axes to grind with Nightwatch or anyone associated with its former members in 
any manner,” replied Leftcourt.

   Mendleson was silent for a minute then asked, “Would it be too much to ask 
her to meet with us and discuss her plan for implementing these changes?”

   Looking irritated, Leftcourt responded, “Would tomorrow morning be soon 
enough, Gabe. If we notify her late this afternoon, she won’t have time to gin-
up a snow job for us.”

   “Tom, she hasn’t even had time to be briefed on all the subordinate commands 
in her department, much less have developed a cogent plan for changing it,” 
said George Light, one of the generals who had been silent up to this point.

   “Then I suppose we’ll find out how good she is on her feet,” replied 
Leftcourt. “George, you contact her and tell her to be here at 0800 hours our 
time tomorrow morning.”

******************************

   Stout heard someone in his outer office call ‘attention on deck’ and stood 
up in preparation to go see who it was when Susan entered his office. 

   “Good morning, Colonel Stout.”

   He responded to her greeting, “Good morning, General Wayne. You do know that 
you scared the be-Jesus out of my wife yesterday evening.”

   “I assumed as much. Can we talk about my training with your people?”

   “Of course. Would you care for a tour of our facilities?”

   “Sure, if it won’t inconvenience you.”

   Susan followed Stout out of his office and then out of the building.

******************************

   Susan left her assigned staff car and her driver at Stout’s office. Stout 
had insisted on using his car. “If we use your car, General Wayne, we’ll scare 
the hell out of the people on my flight line. Besides, I know where we’re going 
and I have reserved parking.”

   Susan agreed, and they started her tour. The first stop was the command 
training classrooms building where Susan was introduced to Stout’s senior 
instructor, LtCol. Jeffrey Adams.

  Adams extended his hand to Susan. “I’ve heard a great deal about you, General 
Wayne. How much of it should I believe?” he asked with a friendly grin.

  “Depends on which rumors you’ve heard, col.”

  “I’ve heard that you can kick butt, that you are as hard-as-nails, and you 
can drink a fish under the table. With all due respect, sir, is your call sign 
really ‘Ice Queen’?”

  “Everything is true, col., except the hard-as-nails thing; it’s a rumor. I’m 
much harder than that,” replied Susan sporting a genuine smile.

  As they continued small talk, Adams proceeded to give Susan a complete tour 
of the building, including the large room that held two very large simulators.

  “Number one is a fighter-bomber simulator. We use it for training new A-328 
pilots and for refresher training for anyone who hasn’t averaged at least 
twenty flight hours a month for more than three months in a row. Number two is 
a F-450 simulator. We give the fighter jocks their first taste of what handling 
a high performance aircraft is like. We run them through it for six weeks then 
we transfer them to Twentynine Palms, California for training in the real 
McCoy.”

   “I thought yours is strictly a reserve training command, Col. Stout.”

   “Mostly that’s what we do for both the A-328 and F-450 reserve pilots 
because their civilian jobs don’t give them the opportunity to get enough 
actual flight time in the birds. If that was all we did, this command couldn’t 
justify its existence. By doing what we do, we free up assets for active duty 
and we keep a good flow of people through here. I think when you finally get a 
look at what we do relative to our budget, compared to what it would cost 
otherwise, you’ll find that we are a real bargain. I didn’t mention it, but we 
also train line aircraft mechanics after they complete the formal schooling 
part of their training. The bottom line, General Wayne is that we train new 
pilots, we provide refresher training as needed and we supply real world 
training to the men and women responsible for keeping Earthforce’s birds 
flying. It’s taken me quite a while to get this command to the point you’ll see 
when you take a look at us. I like to think that I’m giving good service for 
the money. Remember, my people and I have to fly these things in combat. It’s 
my ass for real if they don’t function as advertised.” 

   It was while Susan was getting this rundown that a young airman carrying a 
note in his hand interrupted them. “General Wayne. This is for you.”

   Susan looked at the note. “Col. Stout, do you have a vid-phone somewhere in 
the building?”

   “I have one in my office, General Wayne,” responded Adams.

   “Who called, or is it classified?” asked Stout.

   “Beats the hell out of me, Col. Stout. I’m to call General George Light.”

   “He’s on the JCS,” noted Adams.

   “I know, Col. Adams. I wish I had some idea what he wants. Look at the 
bright side of it, Col. Stout, maybe they’re going to cancel my present orders 
and send me back to the fleet. I wish!”

   Stout looked at Susan and realized her last sentence wasn’t meant as a joke.

   In Adams office, Susan put in a call to General Light. It took less than a 
minute for the man to come on the line.

   “General Light. To what do I owe this call?” asked Susan.

   “JCS wants you at a meeting in Earthdome. The meeting is in the main meeting 
room in the headquarters building and is scheduled for 0800 hours tomorrow, our 
local time. Two other things, General Wayne; don’t be late and bring your 
dancing shoes.”

   “Any clue as to why I’m invited, general?”

   “When you get here, General Wayne. I look forward to meeting you.”

   Susan hung up the vid-phone and looked at the two men she had been talking 
to earlier. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think that man studied oblique 
speaking under the late Vorlon Ambassador Kosh.”

   Both men looked at her with questioning expressions on their faces.

   “You know exactly as much as I do, gents.”

   “Dancing shoes, general?” asked Adams.

   “I haven’t the foggiest idea, Col. Adams. I need to make another call. I 
need transportation, and regular transportation isn’t going to hack the load.”

   “0800 their time, is 2300 our time, General Wayne,” said Stout.

   Susan punched up the base operator and asked to be connected to the base 
communications center. In less than a minute, there was a young communicator 
looking out of the vid-phone screen at her. “Yes sir. What can I do for you, 
general?”

   “Open me a channel to the whitestar in orbit overhead.”

   “Sir. We don’t carry the frequency listings for non-Earthforce space craft.”

   “You carry them for this one, corporal. It’s assigned to me. Check your 
listings again.”

   Less than a minute later, a Minbari face appeared on the vid-phone 
screen. “General Wayne, I’m Alyt Donivar of the Warrior Caste Clan Starwalkers. 
How may I be of service?”

   “Alyt Donivar, I need a shuttle down here. I’ve been ordered to Earthforce 
headquarters and that is almost halfway around the planet. The problem is that 
they want me there in just over twelve hours and I have a couple of things I 
have to do a bit later today.”

   “No problem, General. I’ll have a shuttle on the ground awaiting your 
pleasure in less than an hour. If there’s anything else we can do, please let 
me know.”

   Susan hung up the vid-phone and then looked at Adams and Stout. In answer to 
their unspoken questions, she said, “See this green broach; it’s a ranger 
emblem. It identifies me as a member of the IA armed services. In their 
hierarchy, I hold the rank of fleet commander. The Minbari Alyt - their 
equivalent of our rank of navy captain or army colonel - that I just spoke to, 
is the commanding officer of the whitestar that is presently assigned to me as 
my personal ship. Hell, even the members of the JCS don’t rate one of those,” 
said Susan with a twinkle in her eyes.

   Adams and Stout just looked at one another and shook their heads, something 
else for the non-rumor rumor mill. Stout asked, “Are you ready to continue your 
tour, General Wayne?”

   “I am now, colonel.”

   Susan was given a tour of the flight line with emphasis on the maintenance 
areas, especially those used for training new mechanics. It was almost lunch 
when she finished her tour of Colonel Stout’s command. She had her driver take 
her to the mess hall. 

   After an excellent lunch, Susan had her driver take her to the motor pool 
for her driving lessons appointment. There she was turned over to Technical 
Sergeant Raymond Amos, the base’s senior driving instructor.

   “How long has it been since you’ve driven a ground car, General Wayne?” 
asked Amos.

   “Eighteen years, Sergeant Amos, more or less. You don’t have much 
opportunity to drive cars on starships and space stations.”

   Amos handed Susan a small pamphlet. “If you will please read this, general, 
it will familiarize you with the basic rules of the road for driving on the 
highways of California. The other states and provinces use pretty much the same 
rules and regulations. As you will see, it’s mostly just common sense. Would 
you care for a cup of decent coffee?”

   Susan sat down at a student desk, answered, “Yes. Two creams – the real 
stuff, not the powder - and no sugar,” to the coffee inquiry, and then began 
reading the thin manual. By the time Amos returned she had finished reading 
it. “You are correct, Sergeant Amos; it’s pretty much common sense and common 
courtesy.”

   As she sipped her coffee, Amos opened a locked file cabinet and took out a 
very thin booklet and a separate sheet of paper. “Normally, I’d give you the 
written test using a computer and its monitor. Since it’ll take me longer to 
set that up than it will for you to mark a test answer sheet, you get to do it 
the old fashioned way.”

   Susan took the booklet and test answer sheet and the stylus offered by Amos 
and began the test. In less than five minutes, she handed the materials back to 
him. Amos immediately placed an answer key over the test answer sheet and 
checked the answers. It a few seconds he looked at her. You ‘aced’ it, General 
Wayne.”

   “I have an eidetic memory, Sergeant Amos. I’d have been shocked if I didn’t.”

   Amos quickly stowed the testing materials and locked the file cabinet. “If 
you’ll follow me, general, I’ll show you to the driving simulators.”

   The simulator displays were extremely realistic. Amos showed Susan how to 
work it and then sat down in what would in a real car be the passenger’s 
seat. “Start whenever you wish, General Wayne. The simulator will change 
scenarios depending on how you’re doing at each progress checkpoint.”

   Susan started off slow and progressed rapidly to the most difficult 
scenarios the simulator had to offer. At the end of just over an hour, Amos 
stopped the training.

   “You’ve completed everything the simulator can do for you, general. It’s 
time we went out to the driving course and let you do it for real.”

   Amos was reviewing his notes as they walked out of the building and over to 
a very large paved area that was so marked up with different colored lines on 
the pavement it looked like a giant surrealistic painting. Susan noted series 
of signal lights supported on overhead wires and poles. “What are they, 
Sergeant Amos?”

   “We use those to test your reflexes in real time. We give you instructions 
about the test and you drive toward the lights and respond to them. They are 
controlled by a random number generator; the signaling sequence isn’t even 
known to the instructor prior to the test. Makes it hard to help your favorite 
student.”

   Susan thought it was odd that something like this hadn’t been programmed 
into any of the canned training scenarios with which she was familiar. She made 
a mental note to see that it was changed before many more sunrises 
occurred. “How long have you been an instructor, Tech Sergeant Amos?”

   “In fifteen years of service, this is my third assignment to a training 
facility.”

   “Do you enjoy training people?”

   “Yes I do, general, although I occasionally get one who makes me wish 
medieval torture was still legal. Fortunately, they’re very few and far 
between.”

   Susan mentally filed his name and rank away for future reference. Amos 
proceeded to the driving area observation and control tower, located in the 
middle of the test-driving area. 

   The course area was approximately a hundred meters square. Susan drove the 
training car around the perimeter a few times. Amos observed her making several 
severe steering changes using both the normal brakes and the hand brake. His 
monitor showed everything Susan did as she drove. It was part of the training 
monitor system that allowed the students progress to be constantly observed and 
changed to reinforce desired driving behaviors. Technical Sergeant Amos 
couldn’t be faulted for not knowing that Susan was a highly coordinated person 
in the hand-eye department. He gave her ten additional minutes to familiarize 
herself with her vehicle then he radioed her to take station at the large 
red ‘A’ painted on one side of the paved area. Over the two-way communications 
system he explained her first exercise. Then he gave her the signal to commence 
the exercise. This scenario was repeated for the next two and a half hours. He 
put Susan through every exercise that was available on the course. At the end 
of the training session, he admitted to Susan that she had received as much 
time on the course as a normal student would in a full week of training. He 
also explained that she had been given several exercises that were reserved for 
instructors and advanced drivers.

   Susan looked at Amos, “Did I do okay, Sergeant Amos? You haven’t discussed 
my scores.”

   Amos looked at her with a neutral expression on his face and replied, “You 
passed all the exercises, General Wayne. I’d like to take you out on the road 
if you have the time. Providing you do well on the live, over the road 
practice, I can issue you a drivers license this afternoon.”

   “How long will this take, sergeant?”

   “It depends on your driving, general.”

   “Let’s get started.”

   “We’ll use the car you have been driving on the course, general. It’s 
equipped with video and audio recorders and all your actions with the car are 
also monitored and recorded, strictly for training purposes.”

   The next two hours found Susan driving the car onto the high-speed limited 
access highway, through the outskirts of Stockton, and finally into the heart 
of the city itself. It was during rush hour and the traffic was its usual mess. 
She handled every situation like a long-time professional. Situations that Amos 
knew were driving other drivers in the traffic to distraction didn’t seem to 
bother Susan at all. To himself, he admitted that several of the situations 
they had encountered would have had him hovering over the cars horn ready to 
lay on it. As they cleared the rush-hour traffic, Amos told Susan to return to 
the base.

   As he handed Susan her driver license, Amos said, “You told me that you 
hadn’t driven a ground car in almost two decades, General Wayne. With all due 
respect, sir, I don’t like being made a fool of.”

   Susan looked at him showing confusion on her face, “Sergeant Amos, you have 
my word that today is the first time I’ve driven a ground car in eighteen 
years. I don’t know why you think I would lie to you about that, but it’s a 
fact and I can prove it.”

   “Let me put it this way, General Wayne. You drive better than ninety percent 
of the people who go through our advanced course, and you drive better than my 
instructors. Hell, you even drive better than I do.”

   “I can’t help that, Sergeant Amos. I’m the best fighter pilot that’s ever 
served in Earthforce too, and I can prove it. Fortunately, Sergeant Amos, I’ve 
been blessed with phenomenal hand-eye coordination to complement my memory. 
Sometime, when I have the free time, I’ll teach you how to beat your live 
training course. As for the traffic, you just have to learn when to not sweat 
the small stuff. Just drive as if every other son-of-a-bitch out there is 
intent on doing murder and mayhem upon your poor body, and never let yourself 
get into a situation where the other driver’s decision can cost you your life. 
It works for me.”

   Amos went back to his office to review the results of Susan’s driving 
exercises and particularly the live traffic situations. There were several of 
those he was definitely going to incorporate into the training scenarios in 
both the simulators and on the live driving range. He then looked at her 
reaction time scores. They were phenomenal. Looking at those scores he could 
see why she was a top-notch fighter pilot. 

******************************  

   Susan ate a hearty supper, knowing that she wouldn’t be seeing her bed until 
sometime early the following morning, if then. She had several things going 
Saturday starting with lunch with General Sanchez. She just knew that she was 
going to be beat all to hell tomorrow. It was already 1900 hours local time 
when she got out of her staff car, dismissed the driver and boarded the Minbari 
flyer that was waiting on the airfield for her.

   “Good evening, General Wayne. We are cleared for our flight to Geneva, 
Switzerland. I have clearance to land inside the Earthforce headquarters 
compound. We should arrive just before 0730 hours their time. It’ll give you 
just enough time to get a cup of coffee before you have to meet with them. Is 
that satisfactory?”

   Susan looked at the Minbari pilot. “Why are you using English? I speak 
fluent Minbari, all three caste versions.”

   “I know, sir. We use Minbari on the whitestar. I don’t get to practice my 
English very often with someone who is a native speaker.”

   “I hate to disappoint you, but my native language is Russian.”

   “I’m sorry, but I don’t speak Russian; a little Spanish and Italian, but no 
Russian.”

   “What’s your name?”

   “I’m called Ranger Doland and I’m warrior caste.”

   “Well Ranger Doland, shall we get this show on the road?”

   “Yes sir.”

******************************

   The flight went by quickly and Susan learned a lot about her pilot, his 
ship, Whitestar 135, and its crew and captain. What she learned was that there 
were a lot of young warrior caste Minbari joining the Anla’shok lately. It 
seemed that many were looking for a way to prove themselves outside the 
restrictions of their clans. Many were also joining out of shame for how their 
caste elders had behaved during the Shadow War and the Minbari Civil War that 
came after it. She thought that in that respect that the Minbari and Humans 
were very similar. Thinking about Jeffrey Sinclair and his part in the Shadow 
War, she wasn’t surprised by the situation at all. Susan debarked the flyer to 
find a marine major waiting for her. He was to be her escort to the meeting.

****************************** 

   It was 0745 Geneva time when Susan walked into the meeting room. It looked 
like every other meeting room she had ever been in, excepting for size. It 
seemed that all meeting rooms were alike, even those used by the other races in 
the IA - simple, and rectangular, with a table, chairs, a podium, a writing 
board and a large video display screen. This one also sported a coffee mess 
complete with orange juice, and doughnuts of varying types laid out on it. 
There were even the makings for simple sandwiches, lettuce, tomato, onion, 
several kinds of breads and bagels, three kinds of mustard and what looked to 
be at least two kinds of mayonnaise, one of which was labeled fat-free. [Hell, 
I could host a luncheon with all this stuff,] she thought to herself.

   She also found herself looking at General Leftcourt, the joint-chiefs-of-
staff, and their aides – an assortment of officers ranking from major to 
colonel. “Do I start the entertainment phase of this meeting before or after I 
get my coffee, gentleman?”

   “Exactly what did General Light tell you about this meeting, Susan?” asked 
Leftcourt.

   “He told me when and where it would take place, and then he told me to bring 
my dancing shoes. I assume that was his effort at humor. I’m not amused, 
gentlemen.”

   “You have the wrong idea about this meeting, General Wayne,” said General 
Mendleson.

   “Before we become bosom buddies, gentlemen, there is one thing I want to 
make very sure you understand. General Leftcourt already knows this; I told him 
as much in front of President Lunchenko.”

   Leftcourt knew what was coming, but did nothing to stop her. His comrades 
might as well know what she thought of them. It would be interesting to see 
their reactions.

   “What is that, General Wayne?” asked Mendleson.

   “During Clark’s tenure as President of the Earth alliance, everyone of you 
served under him and did nothing to oppose him. That’s a fact. Even when it 
became obvious to the mentally retarded what was happening, all of you sat by 
and did nothing. I’ve already heard the excuse about there being nothing you 
could do because of Nightwatch and the other groups invented to keep Clark in 
power. When the outer colonies broke away from the EA after Clark had the Mars 
colonies bombed and thousands of innocent civilians killed, you still hunkered 
down and did nothing. General Leftcourt even led the last gasp of Clark’s 
military might against Captain Sheridan at Mars. Gentlemen, as far as I’m 
concerned you are all guilty of treason against the constitution of the Earth 
Alliance. Rest assured, if it had been me leading the battle against Earth when 
Clark opted to fry his brains rather that face justice, I would have given 
Earth back to its rightful civilian leaders, but only after I’d had all of you 
and every other senior officer that didn’t stand up against Clark’s illegal 
seizure of power, lined up in front of firing squads and shot, along with all 
members of Nightwatch and the Homeguard. Gentlemen, I’m not a happy camper. You 
want me to be your hatchet-man, but it’s not going to happen.”

   The members of the JCS and their aides sat in utter silence as Susan 
finished speaking.

   “Anyone have anything to say?” asked Leftcourt. 

   “Did you really let her talk to you like that in front of the President, 
Tom?” asked Mendleson. “That’s pure insubordination.”

   “Is it, Gabe. What part of what she said we did or didn’t do isn’t the 
unvarnished truth?”

   “She can’t talk to us like that, Tom,” said General Light.

   “She just did, George. Every damned thing she said about us is true. If not 
for her and Sheridan, we would probably be fertilizing the grass in some 
cemetery by now. Do you think Clark and his henchmen would have allowed us to 
continue?”

   “Probably not,” added General Gorski. “I’m not offended by anything she 
said. All she did was tell us what she thought of us. That’s just being honest, 
not insubordinate. If you expect someone to tell you they think you’re an ass, 
don’t expect them to be too cheerful about it. Anyway, what happened or didn’t 
happen during the civil war isn’t why we called her here. Go on, Gabe, ask her 
about what’s on your mind.”

   “In the first place, General Wayne, it would be hatchet-woman in your case, 
but that’s not what we want. I want you to explain to us how you intend to go 
about reorganizing your new command.”

   “It might help if I had some idea of what you want.”

   “How do you plan to go about reorganizing your new command, General Wayne, 
in order to increase its efficiency and reduce its operating costs,” insisted 
Mendleson.

   “You had better be prepared to accept that those two items do not 
necessarily go hand in hand, gentlemen; however, I’ll explain how it’s going to 
be accomplished.”

   When it was evident that there was no further comment to be had from the 
JCS, Susan picked up one of the colored dry markers. She proceeded to draw what 
looked like a time line on the board. Before she was done the board was full of 
lines, some apparently going two directions at once. Susan Looked at the JCS 
and said, “This is my preliminary plan. Any questions?” As she waited for a 
response, there began to be the first evidence of a wicked smile on her face.

   “That doesn’t tell us anything, Susan,” said Leftcourt. “What’s it all mean?”

   Pointing at the first box she had drawn, She said, “This is my first move. 
The question is, should I determine who the dead wood is first, or should I 
determine exactly what the real mission or missions of the command are, or 
should I try to determine what the economic impact of my actions will be on the 
locales that are sure to be affected. Maybe I should determine just which, if 
any locales are likely to be affected. You can see that just trying to decide 
where to start is going to be a bitch, pun not intended.”

   The senior officers just sat and looked at her. She continued, “If you 
gentlemen thought that I was going to rush in and fire a whole bunch of people, 
you are sadly mistaken. It’s going to take some time and work to even begin to 
get a handle on where to start. I’m having programs written and databases 
developed to assist in the acquisition of the data I’m going to need if I want 
to have any hope of successfully completing this assignment. It’s going to take 
time, gents. My first inclination is to appoint a small working group to review 
the laws that govern how and what my new command is supposed to be doing. After 
I get a handle on that, I want to review the instructions of the various 
subordinate commands that are based on the laws that define my department’s 
responsibilities. After that, I’ll review the subordinate commands and their 
functions in detail. By that time, I should be getting a feel for which ones 
belong within my purview, which ones should be transferred to other 
departments, and which ones need to be reorganized and merged or 
disestablished. That’s just to get the damned ball rolling. We’re going to have 
work with employee unions to determine what our legal responsibilities are in 
the area of retention through transfer to other entities within the Earthforce 
house and as a last resort, transfer to EA entities outside the Earthforce area 
of influence. We will have to provide training of some sort for those who will 
eventually be discharged. It will probably also be necessary to provide 
assistance in job-hunting for the discharged employees. If you disagree with 
anything I’m saying, just jump in at any time, gents.” 

   Susan stopped and stepped over to get her coffee cup. She took a drink and 
looked from one face to the next of her audience. No one spoke. She then 
continued. “Last, but not least, is what approach do I use to close any bases 
that are no longer needed. That’s going to be tough enough even if I don’t 
catch any flack from the politicians. We all know that’s what I’m going to get 
from every political hack starting with the local city council right up to the 
EA legislature and probably from the President herself. All I can say is that 
we’re going to have to look at the economic effects of any base closures and 
develop ways to deal with it. We’ve got to consider how much the base payroll 
pumps into the local economy, as opposed to the taxes the locality loses 
because we’re exempt from paying local real estate and sales taxes. We also 
have to consider what happens to local real estate values for private homes if 
we transfer a large population elsewhere. Property values and the property 
taxes as a function of property value assessments have to be considered too. It 
will be in our best interests to try and aid in the reutilization of the closed 
bases. It can go far in letting the locals know we are sensitive to their 
concerns. Remember, gentlemen, these people pay our salaries, and they are who 
we have sworn to keep safe.”

   As she was speaking, Susan was pointing at various boxes she had drawn on 
the dry white marking board. By labeling the boxes as she went, she now had a 
picture of what she intended to do. She hit the save button on a control panel 
set into the left side of the board. A scanning attachment cycled across the 
board display area. “I’m ready for any questions you gentlemen may have. For 
future reference, you can even have a file with the drawing I made on this 
board.”  

   “You say you have to set up work groups to gather and analyze data, General 
Wayne. How much time is that going to take.”

   “Since none of you saw fit to do any of this preparatory work earlier, 
General Mendleson, I’m going to have to do it now. I really don’t know. You 
see, I’ve never had to tear a major command apart and rebuild it before, so I 
don’t have any experience on which to base an estimate. My best WAG would be 
six months, plus or minus a month or so.”

   “That’s not much of an answer,” complained Mendleson.

   “Why don’t you give me the benefit of your vast experience in that area, 
General Mendleson. Then, maybe, I can give you an answer that satisfies you.”

   “Don’t get wise with me, General Wayne.”

   “With all due respect, General Mendleson, quit asking stupid questions!”

   “Both of you shut up! Now!” said Leftcourt in a dangerously low voice. “You 
junior officers are excused. If I hear about any of this outside this room, 
I’ll personally court martial all of you for disobedience of a direct order. Do 
all of you understand? Nod your heads.”

   The colonels and majors present nodded their heads and then left the room.

   Turning back to the other members of the JCS he said, “You gentlemen will 
ask proper questions, or you can leave. Susan, you answer the questions, and 
leave the smart-aleck responses to me. We’ve given her a damned near, hell, it 
may even be, impossible task. Susan has outlined what I consider a bare-bones 
plan of attack. I’m sure she will flesh it out as she progresses. If this were 
a civilian panel planning this, I’m sure what she hopes to get done in six 
months or so, would take them several years. It’s not going to happen 
overnight, gents. We never gave her any guidance whatsoever. What is going to 
be your focus, Susan? Long term or short term savings?”

   “It’s going to have to be long term, General Leftcourt. There’s no way we 
can escape the up front costs necessary to pay out ‘early retirement’ bonuses, 
training expenses, and shut down expenses for the bases that will need to be 
closed. We may very well be looking at a ten-year timeframe as a breakeven 
point from a cash point of view, even though we might be seeing savings in 
design, construction and procurement within five years. Where we really should 
see savings is after the ten-year point. That is, if our friends in the 
legislature don’t spend the ‘savings’ before they’re even realized. Now I have 
a question. I’m only in this assignment for three years. There’s no way I can 
see it through.”

   “Let us worry about that, Susan. You will be running it, no matter where we 
assign you,” replied Leftcourt.

   “You know you aren’t paying me enough to do this job. No civilian would take 
it for less than five times my present salary.”

   “You see, that’s where you’re wrong, General Wayne,” said General 
Gorski. “We asked a civilian headhunting firm what they would recommend for a 
CEO to do what we want you to do. They gave us a number more than ten times 
what Tom makes.”

   “You do know how to make a person feel good, General Gorski,” replied 
Susan. “Do you gentlemen have any more questions for me as to how I’m going to 
fall flat on my face attempting this endeavor?”

   “I have a couple of questions on another subject, General Wayne,” replied 
Mendleson.

   Leftcourt and the other members of the JCS rolled their eyes skyward. All 
they could think of was that Mendleson was a glutton for punishment. Leftcourt 
had made up his mind that he would not let Mendleson browbeat Susan simply 
because she was a junior flag officer. He was also thinking that he couldn’t 
very well let her kick Mendleson’s ass, no matter how much he might deserve it, 
because it would set a bad precedent amongst the senior staff.

   “Fire away, General Mendleson,” Susan replied cheerfully as she took another 
drink of coffee.

   “I have some concerns about your handling of the situation with LtCol. King 
at the Ashley Company headquarters in Georgia.”

   Susan just looked at him, obviously waiting for him to continue.

   “I’m waiting for an answer, General Wayne.”

   “What are your concerns, General Mendleson? I can’t address them if you 
don’t enumerate them.”

   “Why did you instigate a background investigation into King’s association 
with Nightwatch? That has opened a real bucket of worms.”

   “Yes sir. I believe it has; however, to enlighten you and your fellow JCS 
members, I’m going to tell you exactly how that came about, just as soon as I 
make myself a sandwich and get some more coffee. After all, for me it’s just 
past midnight.”

   Susan made a sandwich and poured another cup of coffee. Then she took a seat 
and began to tell them about her meeting with LtCol. King. It didn’t take long, 
and the anger of everyone except Mendleson was evident by the expressions on 
their faces. “The bottom line, gentlemen, is that it appears that LtCol. King 
was directly responsible for the murder of his executive officer at the time. 
As for my involvement, if I can hang every bastard who thinks he or she got 
away with their illegal Nightwatch activities, you have my word for it, I will, 
and nobody is going to stop me; not any of you or anyone else. I have the means 
of destroying anyone who gets in my way, and I won’t hesitate to use them. If 
you don’t like that, too damned bad. If you think that is being insubordinate, 
that’s also too bad. Is there anything else that you want to know about LtCol. 
King and my part in it, General Mendleson?”

   Mendleson wanted to scream, but one look at his fellow generals told him it 
was a lost cause. He hated it, but General Wayne was correct. King had brought 
the house down on himself, and distant relative or not, he was on his own. 
Mendleson decided he really didn’t want to get into a head-banging fight with 
General Wayne. Unlike him, she didn’t give a damned about anything but what she 
set her sights on, regardless of the personal cost. He admitted to himself that 
he was actually afraid of her and the power she could wield against him, if her 
tried to bully her or use his rank against her. He had dreams of life after he 
retired; this woman could utterly destroy them - and quite possibly him with 
one phone call, and he knew she wouldn’t hesitate to make that call. 

   “No. It’s obvious that LtCol. King is in hot water of his own boiling. You 
have a valid point about using this opportunity to nail as many of those that 
escaped justice the first time around as possible. I have a feeling that the 
ranks, both officer and enlisted will be thinner before this is finally 
finished,” said Mendleson.

   “Susan? What’s this situation with the death of First Lieutenant Paul 
Meyers? I understand you had his body shipped to Dr. Stephen Franklin. Also, 
what’s the story on Captain Freda Ellison and Colonel Jun Sonn Lee? I had lunch 
with Arthur Marsh earlier this week, and he told me he had passed resolution of 
the situation back to you,” said Leftcourt

   Susan took another bite of her sandwich and thought about an answer. Taking 
a sip of her coffee to wash down the chewed sandwich, she looked at each member 
of the JCS trying to judge what their opinion of what she was talking about 
might be. All she saw were poker faces looking back at her. Without further 
delay, Susan began to tell the joint chiefs about how she got involved in the 
situation of First Lieutenant Paul Meyers and the events that had their origins 
there. When she expounded her thoughts about Lt. Meyers’ death, including the 
story about the extinction of the Markab race, the expressions on the JCS faces 
changed. “I still think that having Steven and his people try to find answers 
is justified since they have extensive knowledge and experience with these 
types of disorders; fortunately, whatever killed Lt. Meyers is apparently not 
at all contagious. It’ll take a couple of weeks for Steven’s staff to finish 
all the tests that will have to be conducted; however, if any of my concerns 
are validated, we could be facing a danger that literally scares the hell out 
of me. Not for my own safety, but for the multitudes of civilians that could 
become innocent victims.” 

   They all expressed concern at the possibilities Susan raised.

   General Gorski made a statement at that point. “I’ll accept your involvement 
and follow-up actions, General Wayne. You make a good case for maximum caution 
and lowest profile concerning this situation. I’m more interested in hearing 
about this Captain Ellison and Colonel Lee of JAG.”

   Without hesitation, Susan told them about how she came to be attacked by 
three junior officers and a civilian. She then explained about her first 
meeting with Captain Ellison and the call from Colonel Lee the next day. After 
she finished, the JCS members just sat and looked at one another for almost two 
full minutes.

   “Gentlemen, I know you must have questions,” said Susan.

   Mendleson looked at Susan and asked, “How long have you been back on Earth, 
General Wayne?”

   “Slightly less than four months, General Mendleson. Why?”

   “As I can sum it up, you have been attacked at least five times since you 
have returned. In each instance, someone was trying to kill you. Do you have a 
comment on that information?”

   “Only that in three of those cases I personally killed my attackers. In one 
of them, I have to fly to Georgia to testify in the trial of the perpetrators 
of that attempt. I also have to testify against the junior officers, one of 
them anyway, concerning the attack in Stockton. Is there something about it 
that bothers you, general?”

   “I’ve seen various videos of you protecting yourself against attack. You are 
quite an efficient killer if I may say so.”

   Susan didn’t respond immediately. Instead she just looked at Mendleson for a 
minute. “What’s on your mind, General Mendleson? I’m sure concern for my safety 
isn’t one of whatever it is you’re thinking about, general.”

   “I’m interested, too, Gabe. Just what are you driving at. I think the others 
are as confused as I am,” said Light.

   “I wasn’t driving at anything, George. I was just making a statement. She’s 
right about one thing. I really don’t care about her safety. She’s demonstrated 
that she is more than capable of handling anything likely to come her way. You 
do have to admit that she does seem to be a magnet of sorts for dangerous 
situations. I know, it’s not her fault; I wasn’t intimating that it was.”

   General Cliff Miller, the JCS representative for the EA planetary air forces 
said, “Tom, I’m satisfied that General Wayne has a handle on what is expected 
of her in her new assignment. I personally think more than ever that she is the 
right person to accomplish it. As for the King thing, it looks like it’ll take 
care of itself and personally, if I were her, I would have come down on Captain 
Ellison like a ton of bricks for her attitude. I suspect that Colonel Lee is up 
to his eyeballs in something, and I’m willing to wager it includes or concerns 
Captain Ellison. As a colonel, you have to be pretty damned desperate to try to 
intimidate or blackmail a brigadier general, especially General Wayne. It’s not 
as if she’s someone nobody ever heard of. Hell, her face, her accomplishments, 
and her reputation have been all over the major news networks for the last few 
months - ever since the attack on Babylon 5 - and Lee had to know whom he was 
dealing with. If he didn’t, he is maximum stupid. So, unless there is some 
other pressing need, I vote we end this thing and get out of here.” 

   “That’s what I like about you, Cliff. You’re short and to the point,” 
commented Gorski.

   “Before you leave, General Leftcourt, Here’s some music for you to listen to 
when you get a free minute or two. It also has video,” said Susan handing 
Leftcourt a data crystal. “It’s copyrighted, sir, so don’t go making copies. I 
recorded it night before last at a party at General Zaleski’s house.”

   Leftcourt took the crystal. “When do you start making the recruiting 
commercials, Susan?”

   “I haven’t been notified yet, sir.”

   “She’s going to make recruiting commercials?” asked Mendleson.

   “Yes she is, Gabe. Higher authority, namely the Secretary of Defense, the 
President, and me, has already approved it. We’ve done the numbers and it 
should save us millions of credits. I saw what passed for a screen test of her. 
She’s very good.”

   “I have a meeting with General Sanchez later today my time General 
Leftcourt, and a meeting with my ghost writer after I finish with him. If you 
have no further need of me, I’d like to return to Stockton.”

   “Ghost writer?” asked Mendleson.

   “I’ve dictated my autobiography and sent it to my agent, who sent it to a 
writer, who is going to use that data and some interviews with me to write my 
autobiography. I get final cut on it before it goes to press, so it will only 
have what I want in it.”

   “What might that be, General Wayne?” asked Mendleson.

   “It’s going to be the unvarnished truth about my life, including the Shadow-
Vorlon War, the recent civil war, and the parts various people played in it. In 
other words, all the warts, scabs and everything else I can remember. It’s not 
going to make me look very pretty either. I have a great many things that I 
have done for which I’m very ashamed. They will be in there too, front and 
center. I promise you that’s it’s going to be the rawest book you’ve ever read.”

   Leftcourt looked around the table and got no more questions. “You may go 
Susan. I’ll see you Friday morning. You’re going to have a very special guest.”

   When he didn’t say who it would be, she took a copy of what she had drawn on 
the board and took her leave.

   After she left the room, the generals’ aides came back in. Leftcourt 
operated a selector that showed the landing pad outside the building. “See that 
Minbari transport, gentlemen. That’s her personal shuttle. It goes with her 
personal whitestar that’s in orbit over us. That’s how you know you rate. When 
you have that kind of equipment and personnel at your personal disposal.”

   One the aides asked, “How did she get it, general?”

   “She earned it Fred. She earned it. Are you aware that she holds the rank 
equivalent of fleet commander in the IA Rangers?”

   “Sir?”

   “She holds a commission in the Anla’shok, as the Minbari call them. She’s 
the only Earthforce officer to ever hold commissions in the military forces of 
two different interstellar alliances simultaneously.”

   “Doesn’t that create a conflict of interest, General Leftcourt?”

   “In her case, no. President Sheridan, the Minbari Grey Council, and 
President Luchenko and the various political entities involved have all signed 
off on it. She has demonstrated a unique view of the Alliances and her place in 
them. I wish I could do it, but that’s all it’ll ever be. I’ll give all of you 
gentlemen one piece of advice. Don’t get on her bad side, ever.”

******************************

END PART 28

29

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