Four days later. October 19th, 2265. 09:35 St. Mary’s Station – Fleet Tactical Theater 2A
John was standing in the center of the amphitheater. For the last hour and a half, he had gone through, in exhaustive detail to the surprise of no one, his task force’s final attack. John noted numerous captains and admirals looked uneasy during the discussion about joining forces with the Folly of Icarus.
“Now at this point, the enemy has effectively been beaten. Thanks in no small part to absolutely terrible tactics,” John said as he showed an image of the Waukesha screaming past the final battlecruiser they had destroyed, “I need to stress at this point the dire state of munitions. I told my first officer at this point that we would turn and run if any more pirates appeared.”
“How dire, the reports I have read suggest they weren’t as bad as you are saying,” Captain Linus Miura asked.
“Six torpedoes were left among the ships that were in combat. No cruise missiles, multi-missiles, or anti-torpedo missiles remained. Just six, the Waukesha normally has at least one hundred. Lances were below twenty-five percent effectiveness; if they were working at all. We had less than three minutes of continuous rail fire left, and had the most rail rounds, per barrel, remaining in the fleet.”
“I presume you mention this to get ahead of why you ordered our fleet to stand down,” Admiral Dufresne said.
John then pulled up a highly detailed schematic of the Folly of Icarus. It had the distinctive look of the old spinner battleships. Though the spinner section was long ago removed and retrofitted. A circular ball with hexagonal armor plates surrounded a large hangar in the center.
“While her DNA is that of a Kelvin class battleship,” John said pointing at the odd ship, “Nothing is left of that original ship. The Folly is nearly two-hundred forty meters longer than a Kelvin. Those old ships also didn’t use dura-ceramic ablative armor or tritanium hull plates or have two rings of class eight rail turrets. They had eighteen railguns that were twenty percent larger than the Waukesha.”
“Your tactical analysis was that you couldn’t win that fight. Her shields were similarly strained as yours. A surprise attack could have been successful,” Rear Admiral Piran said.
“Her kinetic and EM shielding were degraded, that is true. However, despite the beating her shields took, they were substantially stronger than ours. And unlike the Waukesha, her ablative armor and armor plates were in pristine shape.”
“Could your task force have attacked and defeated the Icarus and full strength?” Admiral Dickinson asked.
John nodded, “I believe so, though that’s that is based on simulations I ran afterward. While I do believe we’d wing, we’d lose a third to half our ships. It would be a one-sided slaughter given the sorry state we were in at the end of the final wave of pirates.”
“Firing on one of our own is a bad look,” Captain Miura said, “Was that necessary?”
“It is not the worst look, I can think of worse. And we didn’t fire on the Lagos. Had I intended on striking that ship our volley would have struck true.”
“Do you have anything else to say to refute any of the testimony against standing down?” Admiral Dickinson asked.
“I made the right decision and were I in a similar situation again in the future I’d do the same. Attacking an enemy with no hope of victory while simultaneously accomplishing nothing is not a wise course of action. Living to fight another day is,” John said before taking a sip of water, “I am not above stabbing them in the back. In fact, I strongly suspect that given another opportunity that is exactly how I will be able to take them out once and for all.”
John paused for a moment as if deep in thought before continuing, “Understanding how they were able to modify the ship and with whom they acquired the military-level gear is something we ought to investigate. It wasn’t for nothing; we now know definitively what we’re up against. It is frankly a far cry from what everyone had suspected.”
Several admirals nodded in agreement. Captain Miura and Admiral Piran were the lone dissenters. Admiral Dickinson then shut down the holographic displays and spoke.
“While partnering up with pirates is not something I’d make a habit of doing, I do agree that the Folly of Icarus’ crew doesn’t exactly match our definition of a pirate. And without their assistance I don’t suspect we’d be having this conversation,” Admiral Dickinson, “Lieutenant Lief, I find no evidence that you acted improperly or violated any standing orders. After your leave is completed, you will be transferred to the taskforce command and work as a senior analyst until the repairs on the Waukesha are completed. The Folly of Icarus is still a priority target for the Navy. Everyone is dismissed.”
John stood up and saluted. He spun about promptly and left the room. He was confident that nothing untoward would happen to him. Though he was concerned with how vocal Lieutenant Cohen was about attacking the Icarus. That bothered John in several ways.
He continued walking at his normal brisk pace. He made it two hallways away from the amphitheater, less than two hundred meters from the doors to the First Fleet command center when he heard his name called out from behind. It was a familiar voice. John sighed and shrugged his shoulders as he stopped in his tracks.
“LIEF!” Brady shouted from down the hallway.
John turned and tossed his hands to his sides as he shook his head. His body language was easy to read. Disappointment radiated off of him. Though neither seemed to be read by Brady.
“What the hell? We could have taken her out!” Brady hissed.
“Then you are either a fucking idiot or delusional. Did you not hear anything that was read out? Did you not read the reports? What about the extensive damage each ship suffered?” John sounded exasperated, “You can’t tell me that the Lagos wasn’t seriously damaged.”
“She still had some fight left in her. You gave up.”
“The fight was over. The Folly of Icarus could be better armed and armored than our newest battleships. The fuck you think would happen if we opened fire?”
Brady got up in John’s business, “Then we should’ve died fighting.”
John took a half step back and shook his head, “You are a damned fool if you really think that. Living to fight another day was the right choice. There was nothing to gain by sacrificing our ships that day. Nothing at all.”
“You’re a coward!” Brady hissed back.
John sighed and spoke quietly, “Then you have learned nothing. I gave you a chance to retain your captaincy. Perhaps you hadn’t acted aggressively in the moment, I misjudged you. You have learned nothing.”
Brady took two steps back and looked at John.
“I had more than enough justification to strip you of your command and forcibly stand your ship down. I didn’t do that because I had thought there was some hope of redemption for you. I had hoped it was just the emotion of the situation. You are reckless, and worse yet though, you don’t seem to be able to grasp the situation you were in properly.”
John turned and headed down the hallway to a speechless Brady. Brady’s first officer caught the end of their brief conversation. He seemed to understand what John was trying to teach his fellow captain. Still, in shock at what was said, Brady stayed in the hallway in silence trying to understand the lesson John attempted to impart to him.
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One day later. October 20th, 2265. 13:15 Planet of Manchester. Corner of Tenth and Broadway, Castle, Steele, and Yasmin LLC
Alice was none too happy about John insisting on going to the surface with some of his crew on a drinking excursion. John quickly added that he had to pick up something and meet with some old geezer about business. She knew all too well that John didn’t just meet up with people.
John was most put off by Alice insisting he not murder anyone in cold blood. True, he had done that in the past, but he was still properly hacked off at her insistence. He actually wasn’t there to kill or beat up anyone. Maybe threaten the man moderately, but John sincerely hoped that proper words would get the job done this time.
The cabby was talking about something, honestly, the words went in one ear and out another. John continued to smile and nodded. He looked out the window and took in the city. He checked the pockets of his cargo shorts multiple times to ensure the goods he needed were in their appropriate pocket.
The cab ride ended nearly as quickly as it started. For a busy city, the traffic was surprisingly light this morning. He tipped the cabby well and walked into the lobby of the high-rise. The reception desk was his first stop.
“Good morning,” John said cheerfully, “I have a meeting with a Donald Moore at thirteen-twenty.”
The secretary looked up at John carefully, “That’s an odd time, normally the meetings start at the top or bottom…” she paused as she looked at her screen then looked back at John, “That’s so weird. Well, I do see you on his schedule. Take the express elevator to the fortieth floor. You’ll be looking for the CEO’s boardroom. You can’t miss the signs.”
“Much obliged, have a good day!” John tapped the desk cheerfully as he walked away from the desk and towards the elevators.
The doors to the express elevators opened immediately and quickly whisked him up several hundred feet in the air. There was a noticeable change in acceleration as the elevator began to slow. Chimes were heard and then the door opened to the CEO's floor.
Opulent didn’t do a good job of describing how ornate and expensive things looked. Marble pillars were inlaid with gold accents. The floors appeared to be granite with a brilliant shade of purple running through the stone. Yellow gold shone everywhere.
“Fucking hell,” John said to himself as he looked around after stepping off the elevator, “Feels like I’d be turned poor if I broke anything.”
A voice then snapped John out of his momentary stupor, “Good morning, and you are?”
“Oh, I didn’t even see you. Apologies,” John flashed a smile to the secretary, “John Lief, I have a meeting with Mr. Moore in a couple of minutes.”
“Yes, I can see you are on the schedule. What I don’t understand is how you got there. Mr. Moore was supposed to be booked with other clients.”
“Well, I can’t say I know why that is. But I’m here and I have some very important business. With any luck, I hope we can wrap things up ahead of schedule to give him some time back.”
The secretary sized up John once more before picking up her phone and spoke quietly, “The mystery guest is here. Appears military, and no weapons were detected on him. What do you want me to do?”
“Let him in,” the gruff-sounding voice boomed through the phone.
The secretary pressed a button at her terminal which unlocked the CEO's door. She then gestured to the door. John knocked on the secretary’s desk with his knuckles a couple of times before walking through the door.
“Good afternoon Mr. Moore,” John smiled as he strode into the room, “My name is John Lief, First Lieutenant in the Confederate Navy, attached to the First Fleet and current captain of the CNS Waukesha.”
“Why are we talking?” Donald stared daggers at John.
John casually walked towards the desk and pulled a chair and sat down on it. He rearranged himself a couple of times to get more comfortable. He was about to speak but then felt how comfortable the seat was. His muscular body squirmed around in the chair a little bit to get a better feeling for it.
“Holy hell, this is a nice chair,” John exclaimed as he fidgeted a bit in the chair, “I’m here to discuss your son.”
“And why would you do that? You aren’t in Second Fleet.”
“Very true,” John pulled out a tablet slowly from one of his pockets and slid it across the desk, “Your son can’t seem to understand that he can’t get his dick wet with the crew that he commands. Now if the records I’ve seen are accurate, that makes two ensigns, a second-class petty officer, and a marine lance corporal.”
Donald stared at John before picking up the data slate. He viewed the graphic video. He shut it off and quickly slid the data slate back to him.
“Second Fleet…”
“Is no longer in charge of the investigation,” John interrupted the CEO, “Naval Intelligence is now on the case. As I once worked for them, I was asked if I would play the role of a go-between. They asked me to have a conversation with you about your son’s behavior and give you the deal that you ought to convince your idiot son to take. While I don’t understand why they want to make this quiet that appears to be the direction they are going.”
“You had better be careful with that tone of yours. I’d hate to add you to my list.”
“If I were you, I’d drop the idle threats. I am not the kind of person you want to threaten. Despite my appearances, I am the most brutal sonofabitch you’ve had the misfortune to encounter. Luckily though, I’m not only not here to hurt you, but I don’t even want to do that.”
John then tossed three credit chits onto the desk.
“What’s this?”
“Check the numbers, you should recognize them.”
Donald slid one of the chits over to a scanner built into his desk and looked down at the terminal’s screen. His eyes widened momentarily. The process was repeated twice more with similar results. Donald looked back at John.
“Those…”
“Were part of your bugout package. If you had to use that blackmail on the admirals and captains you have dirt on you know you’d have to get out of town. Your main accounts would be frozen to prevent you from traveling anywhere,” John shook his head, “Now to really blow your mind, I had located not only your chit caches but also your data drops.”
John slid another data slate across the table.
“I did all that during my downtime while we were flying back to Manchester in slip space. If you check your security cam footage, you’ll notice they go out one after another this morning. I was a busy boy going from place to place.”
Donald stared daggers at John trying to understand what the hell was going on.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Two reasons. One to ensure that you aren’t dumb enough to actually try to burn those corrupt officers. Make no mistake Naval Intelligence already has this information and they will be blacklisted from any further promotions. The second is to ensure your cooperation in getting your son to accept NI’s proposed deal.”
“He’s going to be an admiral.”
“No, no he’s not,” John chuckled quietly to himself, “You see, what’s going to happen is your idiot son is going to accept the early separation offer from the Navy. Failure to accept that offer is going to result in him getting hit with at least a dozen charges. Probably more actually. I can’t imagine there being any possibility of rendering a not-guilty verdict. They aren’t going to let him serve those terms concurrently either. What do you think your kid is going to be able to do after twenty years of hard labor and another ten to twenty behind bars?”
“He is…”
John interrupted Mr. Moore, “It’s a binary choice. Leave the Navy and be free or stay in and get convicted. There are no other options,” John paused a moment and grinned, “Ahhhh, there we go.”
Mr. Moore looked at John in a confused way, “I don’t understand.”
“Oh yes, you do. You know about your son’s proclivities. You wanted him in the military to be away from you and out of your hair, so to speak. How’s that worked out? He’s one lawsuit after another if he were to join the corporate world.”
Mr. Moore’s face grew a shade of pink as he broke eye contact with John.
John stood up, “It makes no difference to me what that choice is. But he docks back at his home station in about six hours. I’d suggest figuring that out.”
“If I do convince him to accept this deal, what do I get out of it?”
“That depends on you. If you hand over all evidence, you have on any officers in the Navy to Naval Intelligence and foreswear any attempts at retaliating then you’ll receive those credit chits back. But not until I’m convinced of your sincerity in the matter.”
“How can I be sure that you’ll honor your end of the bargain?”
“When I say I’m going to do something, I do it,” John’s tone got much darker, “Besides, my investment account has enough money in it as-is. I don’t need your money to live more luxuriously.”
“What’s stopping me from moving on you and your wife?”
John walked over to the desk. He placed his hands on it and leaned down while staring menacingly at Mr. Moore. He all but growled the next words he spoke.
“I will make the streets red with the blood of your family tree if you so much as look in my wife’s direction. Uncles, aunts, brothers, nieces, nephews, cousins…” John paused for dramatic effect, “I will butcher everyone related to you. I’ll save that boy of yours for last, I’ll make his death as painful and creative as I can. You’ll be there to watch me paint my masterpiece. I promise you I will destroy everything that you cherish.”
Donald shrunk back in his seat. The look in the young man’s eyes. He’d seen that look before. That was the look of a dyed-in-the-wool murderer. Worse yet, this on standing in his office had been a state-sanctioned one. The threat was received loudly and clearly; John Lief, his friends, and above all else, his family, were to be left alone.
He nodded his head without making eye contact with John.
John’s tone shifted immediately as he rose to his full height, “Excellent, that data slate has the contact information for a buddy of mine that’s handling the case. I hope you make the right decision. And I’d strongly recommend he see a psychiatrist, he’s a fucking disaster waiting to happen.”
John smirked and left the office. He knocked on the secretary’s desk and nodded at her. It was time to meet up with his wife and enjoy the rest of his shore leave. Things were going well.
Donald, for his part, was stunned. At no point had he had any hope of pushing his narrative. Worse yet, it didn’t seem like there was a fight worth having. The young lieutenant gave off a lethal vibe. And he wasn’t lying, Naval Intelligence was now on the case. Try as Donald might, that was a fight not worth having. His son was destined to return to the private world, and that terrified him.