Benjamin Gold

Location: Orbit, Earth, United Commonwealth of Colonies

“Can we reroute, possibly through this junction here?” Ben suggested as the holographic circuitry floated in the air in front of him. An SP2, an electrician’s mate, stood beside him, scratching his head. Ben didn’t take that as a good sign.

“I don’t know, sir,” the SP2 finally sighed. “Everything should be working properly. This is probably software. I don’t know fixing the hardware will do anything.”

“Will it hurt anything?” Ben countered.

“No, it shouldn’t. Signal might be a little weaker since the reroute has to go through this junction, which can’t handle the load. Call it ten percent power lose, but that’s better than what we have now,” the SP2 shrugged.

“Do it,” Ben ordered, and the SP2 nodded and went to work.

It was busywork. The skipper and XO were ripping their hair out trying to figure out a way to get messages to the other ships of the fleet without relying on short-range, tight-beam lasers and communications panels mounted on hulls. It was a miracle ships even had those redundancies anymore. They were the remnants of a bygone area of signal hacking, malware, and compromised crypto-security. A time that everyone thought STRATNET and TACCOM had ended.

Ben returned his attention to the holo-tank at the center of the operation’s CIC department. It showed pretty much the same picture, although, imagery coming in from Mars was a little over three minutes old. It was still a hell of a lot better than nothing.

“What’s our fix?” the XO didn’t even bother to call Ben’s name.

Ben detailed the plan and the XO nodded his approval, which was enough time for Ben to get some breathing room before the fix inevitably failed. Techs were busy combing through work stations as well, looking for any compromised code. ADM Duvall wanted the fleet at one hundred percent readiness, and with each passing hour, that reality looked less and less likely. Whatever fight they were going into, they weren’t going to be in tip-top shape.

Ben thought for the hundredth time, but the suggestions of a meager LCDR wouldn’t tickle an ADM’s ear. Hell, with his reputation, Ben had trouble getting the XO to listen to his suggestions.

“I’ve got movement,” the CPO at the holo-tank announced. Everyone froze for a second before a mad scramble ensured.

“Are they heading our way?” a tinge of fear was evident in the XO’s voice.

“Negative. We’ve still got ships in orbit covering the major cities, but they still aren’t firing. I’m showing dozens of ships moving away from the planet toward Phobos.

Phobos was the closer of Mars’s two moons; the other being Deimos. Named for the personification of fear in Greek mythology, the moon was only about eleven kilometers across, but only six thousand kilometers from the surface of Mars. It was the closest orbiting moon in the solar system, and had been home to defensive batteries. Those had been shattered when the enemy crushed Second Fleet. It was just another rock in space now.

“Get me a count,” the XO ordered.

Slowly, the next half hour showed the enemy move half of its remaining strength between Mars and Phobos. Ben watched it all happening while scratching his head. It was a poor angle to launch an attack on Earth. They weren’t hiding behind the moon, or trying to throw off First Fleet’s count of their strength. There was no tactical value either.

He thought along with every other spacer in the fleet.

That was about the time the electrician’s mate returned with a shake of his head: mission failure. That didn’t help the XO’s mood, and he took it out on the CIC, especially Ben’s section, since it had been their plan.

if morale and nerves among the fleet matched the CIC, things weren’t good.

After the XO’s chewing out, Ben entered some limits for the AI to work within, and sent it to work on the problem of what the hell the enemy was up to. It could churn through probabilities infinitely faster than he could even think of them.

Apparently, someone out there had the same idea, because orders came through not too long later.

“The fleet is advancing?” Ben read in confusion. None of the ship’s issues were fixed, and if Jack Frost was still hobbled, so was everyone else.

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“Not everyone,” the XO countered. “The admiral is leaving a token force to guard the planet if the rest of the fleet fails. It looks like the Euros and Blockies are sending contingents as well, but we’re staying put.”

Ben knew being one of the handful of battleships ordered to stand down from the assault was a grave insult, but he still breathed a sigh of relief. “What did we do to earn this honor?” his tone was laced with irony.

“Skipper must have pissed in the admiral’s champagne at some fancy reception or something,” the XO answered the rhetorical question, clearly fuming at being left behind. “Let’s make the most of the extra time we have and get these issues fixed. If we get it done quickly, we can transmit the patches and the fleet will be ready to take down those fuckers.”

Ben tried not to raise his eyebrow at the XO. He’d noticed this mentality since being assigned to First Fleet. It was considered a prestigious assignment, but they hadn’t seen combat in a century. Not since the last great war with the Blockies had units been pulled from First Fleet for combat duty on the front lines. Second Fleet had handled that duty. Now, the fleet’s lack of combat veterans was showing. Everyone was ready to jump into it with an unknown enemy force that had just literally smashed a commonwealth fleet to dust. Having seen a few fights, and fired some shots in anger, Ben wasn’t so gung-ho to jump into something he didn’t understand. The XO should be the same way, but he was chomping at the bit like everyone else.

The Euro and Blockie contingents didn’t help Ben’s nerves. The Euros were only supplying two squadrons of ships, one of battleships, and the other of cruisers. The Blockies were sending more, Ben counted twenty-five, and all battleships, but they were moving at a safe distance from the main body of the fleet. They’d be able to join the fight, but they were out of position and vulnerable to enemy attach without the support of the much larger Commonwealth-Euro contingent.

Ben left the thought unfinished and reviewed what was being left behind. The Blockies now owned the space around Earth in terms of numbers, but Ben’s contingent and the main Euro fleet would still give them a hell of a fight if they decided to press the advantage. Doing so would be suicide if the enemy fleet turned their eyes on Earth, but Ben had seen people do stupid things during his time in the fleet. There was no guarantee common sense would win out.

The AI beeped behind him. He almost missed it with everything else going on. He didn’t catch it until the third chime. He left the crowded holo-tank and peeked at the results.

His jaw dropped, and he prayed to every mythical power in the universe he was wrong. Now, he could guess why ADM Duvall was running off to fight half-cocked.

***

Mark “Coop” Cooper

Location: Assembly Area Kansas, Earth, United Commonwealth of Colonies

Coop stood like a bouncer in front of the hastily erected, public comms booth. He’d done the job back when he’d been stationed on Mars, and his skills had been honed through several more battles. He saw how the agitation was growing among the men waiting to use the booth.

When the government had shut down the local nets to contain what was happening with Second Fleet around Mars, that included cutting off the deploying soldiers from their families and loved ones. With all his time away on missions, Coop was used to this. The reservists suddenly called to duty were not, and their inability to do so was affecting morale. It was such a problem that the FOB commander had set up a few shacks with half a dozen comms booths. Two dozen secure, monitored lines were nowhere near enough for the tens of thousands of troops sitting out in Kansas sector, waiting for orders, so it wasn’t improving things much.

They were of a singular use to Coop. It allowed Eve to place a call to Bethesda and see what the hell was being done to protect their unborn child.

“Hey…” one guy finally seemed to have grown some hair on his nuts, but Coop’s focused stare checked him. “…uh, never mind.” He took a few steps back and started to get shit from his friends.

Coop focused his attention back on the group in general. He could have dealt with the guy, and the dozen that came after him, but after that he didn’t know. He, and the rest of his squadron, had been in their MOUNTs for forty-eight hours before the local commander realized the enemy wasn’t going to show up on their doorstep anytime soon. With that realization, the order came down to dismount. They’d rotate through having one MOUNT on the FOB’s QRF, but other than that, they weren’t going to go through the uncomfortable process of synching back up unless missions started coming down from higher.

“About time,” Camila had commented when they stepped out of their armor. “I was getting an itch I couldn’t scratch.”

Coop didn’t reply to that imagery, but he had headed straight over to Eve’s squadron, and together, they’d commandeered the first comms booth they came across.

Finally, a tap on his shoulder indicated Eve was done with the call. “All yours, gentlemen,” Coop nodded to the gathered crowd, and stepped away from the incoming flood of bodies.

Eve waited until they were both a ways off before filling him in. “I was able to get in touch with the on-call doctor and the hospital’s chief of security. The doc couldn’t give me any details about the defense of the campus, but she was able to check up on the baby’s vitals. Everyone looked good, and we’re still a go for all the pre-natal enhancement procedures.”

Coop scoffed at that. He doubted anything would go forward if Earth was attacked. The look he got from her shut him up quick.

“The chief of security had more details on the defensive setup, but he sounded pretty exasperated. Apparently, everyone with enough rank is calling in to discuss the security precautions, and I’ve got to say they look good.” Her statement allowed Coop to release a sigh of relief he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “They’ve got a full battalion digging in around the perimeter. This isn’t some weekend warriors either, this is a solid outfit. I looked them up. If things get hot, it is a priority site for heavy reinforcements, and they have an evac plan with Spyder’s and other transports on site already. If things go sideways, they’ll call someone like us for help, or evacuate the place. Neo-natal is near the top of that list, and I might have dropped a hint that the one marked Berg, the Chief of Naval Intelligence’s granddaughter, might need to be at the top of the list.”

“That’s my girl,” Coop grinned and pressed a kiss to her forehead. That got a few looks from people headed toward the booth, but he didn’t give a shit.

“Now we just need to make sure if they do call for backup, that one of our squadrons gets the call,” she stated, and was already breaking away from him.

He’d leave the convincing to her. If he asked for it, it would come off more as a threat than request. He was better at taking than asking.