Ares Chronicles: What Comes After - Chapter 5: Theirs Not to Reason Why

What Comes After

Chapter 5: Theirs Not to Reason Why

"Sir, there's an incoming transmission from Earth. It's the president." reported the lieutenant.

"I'll take it in my office," ordered Admiral Gray.

"Aye, sir."

Gray left the bridge and entered his office.

"Computer, lock the doors. And hold all other transmissions except the one from the president."

"Acknowledged."

Gray proceeded to activate the console on his desk. On the screen was the image of the president.

"I'm just checking with you to see when you leave."

Of course, Gray knew that his schedule was being updated live to the president. Still, he answered:

"Just a few more minutes. Our engineers are still going through an inspection of the engines of the UNS Sevastopol."

The president nodded. Then he said:

"Do you trust them?"

"No. But this is the only way to find out for sure."

The president nodded again. Then he added:

"We've begun negotiations with the Ishimans regarding the possibility of them transfering gate ship construction technology."

"What do they think?"

"Well, their ambassador is reserved on this matter and their military adviser promised to relay our request to their government. We'll just have to wait and see."

Gray nodded and said:

"We can't be stranded in our own star systems."

"Agreed. Now, we've begun constructing jump gates. But each of them will take years. Not to mention the fact that we are still restricted to traveling only to other star systems equipped with jump gates."

Gray nodded again. For a moment, both of them were silent. Finally, it was the president who broke that awkward silence:

"Well, this is unusual. The first time when I stay behind and you're the one who will be leading the troops."

"Well, you're the president," and with a twinkle in his eyes, Gray added: "Sir."

The president smiled.

"Good luck, my old friend."

"You'll hear from us soon."

The transmission ended. Gray deactivated the console and re-entered the bridge.

"Sir," a lieutenant reported. "The UNS Sevastopol reported that it's ready."

"Very well. Signal all ships."

"All ships report ready and standing by, sir."

"Signal the Ishiman gate ship."

"The Ishiman gate ship is beginning to form a jump stream."

"All ships are in position," reported another lieutenant.

"Set course for the jump point."

"Aye sir. The fleet is under way."

"Countdown?"

"35 seconds to jump point."

The admiral sat silently in his chair, his eyes focused on the point in space where the jump stream has weakened normal space. There was a fluctuating motion on that point. The captain leaned over and whispered:

"I don't know which kind of travel I'm less used to: light speed or jump stream."

"25 seconds to jump point."

"Sometimes I feel as if my ship may be torn apart."

"20 seconds to jump point."

"10 seconds to jump point."

"5, 4, 3, 2, 1-"

The carrier rocked a bit. Instead of a field of stars, the image on the screen is now replaced by streaming photons.

"We have entered jump stream. Next stop: Vekeryn System."

"How much of an alert will the Cantharans get?"

"7 seconds, sir. 7 seconds between the time they detect a jump point forming till the time we jump in.

"Good."

"The entire fleet is now within the jump stream, sir. The jump stream has terminated. Estimated time for the next jump stream: 5 minutes."

"ETA?"

"21 hours, 13 minutes, 33 seconds."

"Very well." The admiral stood up and said:

"Captain, you have the bridge."

"Aye, sir."

***

The admiral went back to his quarters. He picked up a book to read but soon laid it down again. Then he walked to his desk, sat down, and began reviewing the battle plans. After that was done, the admiral asked the computer to run a simulation.

"The simulation will take 11 minutes and 47 seconds."

"Proceed."

While the computer was occupied by the simulation, the admiral inspected his walls.

Not much to look at. The color is beige. No paintings or murals of any kind. Standard quarters. There are no luxury quarters on board UNS warships.

The admiral got up and walked to the window and pulled open the shade.

Streaming photons. Walking them race one another is about as exciting as watching the water boil. The admiral pulled down the shades and turned to look at his computer console.

10 minutes and 39 seconds.

The admiral walked toward the door. He wanted to get something to eat. Then he stopped abruptly,

He was not hungry.

"He never told me about this damned waiting," muttered the admiral.

He decided to rest for a few minutes on his bed. He didn't think he was tired so he laid down with full uniform, staring at the ceiling,

Also beige.

He tried to find something on that ceiling that looked the slightest bit odd. A small imperfection. A dent. A bug, perhaps.

Nothing. Nothing of interest.

Watching the ceiling is even more boring than watching the water to boil, he thought.

He picked up the book again.

One Hundred Years of Solitude

The admiral sighed and put it back down. The he remembered something about that book.

He picked it up for the third time. Brown cover with white letters. Just like the one he once owned.

No, not the same book. What happened to the one he owned?

His house was among those destroyed during the initial Cantharan bombardment.

It must've been destroyed along with the rest of it, he thought.

The rest of what? His life, of course...

***

"Your world is owned now by the order from the system you call Cantharis."

Commander Gray of UNS Apollo missed the next few sentences.

Thoughts were racing through his mind: Cape Canaveral...his wife...General Sherwin, the man who promoted him to commander of the Apollo , the man who once noted that the neatly trimmed Gray looked like a chihuahua he once had...the president? He liked him when he first shook hands with him even though he didn't vote for him. That strong handshake almost implied military background. Yet the president's broad smile gave it away. A career politician.

"We have a new world for you. It is far away from Cantharis. We will take you there. You will live there. Respond."

Shock, dismay, fear were immediately replaced by outrage.

Who the hell are these people to tell them where to live? There is only 1 Earth!

The captain's eyes polled the crew and were answered by the eyes of his men. The answer was clear:

"Unacceptable."

***

By now, the admiral was so mired in his thoughts that he didn't notice the screen of his console was blinking the results of the simulation. But it didn't matter. Like the 129 simulations ran before it, the results came back as very much positive: 87% success rate.

***

From there followed some painstaking negotiations. The Ishimans always seemed to know what was best for them and the captain had to fight each step of the way to convince the Ishimans to give them greater leeway.

The attack against the Gaitori convoy? One cruiser against so many?

The attempt to rescue Obish hostages? A waste of time and resources.

The attack against the Aeneas System? Too dangerous, they said. The flak drone is right beside the planet. You'll never succeed.

Of course, the job only got harder.

The mission into Palyos Belt? You'll be smashed into pieces!

The attack against Admiral Mek Het? 1 carrier against 2?

The Heshac operation was particularly troublesome. The captain had to bypass his Ishiman contact and directly appeal to the Ishiman Combined Military Command to get authorization. At first, they even wanted to "minimize losses" by sending them in a heavy cruiser! This time it took an intervention by a sympathetic member of the Ishiman legislature to finally get authorization for a heavy destroyer.

But you can't blame them. Being careful is always a virtue. Besides, without the Ishimans, who could they turn to?

***

It's now late, on Earth that is. The admiral got up in the middle of the night. Although the lights in his room were dark, he did open the shade to let in the light of the photons. He found his shoes, uniform, belt, all through his owl-like eyes, trained by those darkness trainings that the Ishimans claimed were so important.

Well, they were. After all, if not for those trainings, he and his team could've died when they were trapped in those caves after that avalanche with that legion of Cantharan troops in the Bokleo System. They were-

"Sssss," the doors slid open and the admiral walked into the hallways. They were dimly lit to conserve energy. However, the admiral can still see very clearly the personnel shuffling through the hallways. He didn't want to alarm anyone so he simply tiptoed his way around the ship.

Occassionally, some did recognize him. However, he simply waved them off and continued his pacing throughout the ship. He inspected the officers' lounge, the mass hall, the engine room, the reactor, and finally the bridge.

"Admiral on deck!" saluted an officer as soon as he stepped off onto the bridge. The entire bridge crew turned in his direction and saluted.

"Carry on," he commanded. Then he walked to the commander and immediately said:

"I'm sorry, sir. I am not aware there is an inspection."

"No, no inspection, commander. I was just trying to wear off my insomnia which is probably being caused by my pre-battle jittery."

The commander had a strange expression on his face but remained silent.

"What?"

"It's just that I never thought you would have those jittery, sir."

The admiral smiled and replied: "I never knew anyone who doesn't have pre-battle jittery, commander."

The commander asked curiously: "And the president?"

The admiral smiled: "That's a classified matter, commander."

The commander also smiled. As they both sat down, suddenly, a lieutenant reported:

"Sir, I think there may be a problem."

"What kind of a problem?" asked the commander.

"Well sir, it's the Sevastopol ."

"What about it?"

"I think there's something wrong with it."

The commander was irritated.

"Be more specific, lieutenant. What's wrong with it?"

"Well, the ship shook a bit. But it seems stable for now."

The admiral and the commander looked at one another.

"Send me the sensor data."

"Aye, sir."

The admiral and the commander read the data in increasing alarm.

"How long till Vekeryn System?"

"7 hours, 21 seconds."

The commander shook his head.

"I don't think it-" The commander was interrupted by the admiral.

"Send message to Sevastopol . Read: 'Inquire,' 'structural integrity.' Send."

"Message sent, sir."

"They should receive it almost instantly," murmured the admiral.

The commander nodded and added: "But it'll take them time to send a reply due to the jump stream."

"Response, admiral."

"Transfer to my console."

The admiral and the commander read the response and they became even more concerned.

"Do you think they can last 7 hours?" asked the commander.

"They have to," replied the admiral. "They have no choice."

***

Nerve-wrecking minutes went by. Instead of focusing on the path in front of them, the admiral ordered the viewscreen to focus on the Sevastopol .

But what good will that do other than watch it get destroyed by the jumpstream? They can't extend so much as a finger to help. If a ship's structural integrity is unstable, the fall back procedure would be to synchronize the shield frequency with the jumpstream and hope that nothing goes wrong.

Unfortunately for the Sevastopol , it's a Human ship and like all Human ships, its shield generators aren't sophistocated enough to synchronize with the jumpstream. Nor does it have the computer software required to do such a thing. Ishimans and Human engineers are still busy trying to translate Ishiman software to Human systems.

As a result, now it becomes a question as to whether the minor fracture will remain minor all the way until they reach Vekeryn. If not, the jumpstream will tear the ship apart. By then, the best the admiral could hope for was that the jumpstream won't collapse. The danger grows with each minute as the jumpstream gradually weakens as it reaches its destination.

The admiral was angry. Angry at something he couldn't control, predict, or remedy. He's torn by 2 conflicting thoughts. On one hand, he wants the Sevastopol to reach the Vekeryn System. However, if the ship explodes right before they reach the system, the jumpstream will surely be disrupted and the entire fleet would be lost in hyperspace, forever. Perhaps it is better that the ship explodes, now. Perhaps the jumpstream still has a chance of enduring an explosion. When the jumpstream nears Vekeryn, it certainly wouldn't be strong enough to endure an explosion.

The Ishimans described looking for a lost ship in hyerspace as a blind man trying to find a needle in an ocean. It simply hasn't been done successfully.

"Sir, Captain Brewhitt is a loyal officer. He'll understand," advised the captain.

"No, I won't order it."

"Sir, I'm afraid I must agree with the admiral," said the commander.

"Sir, if you don't order it and if it explodes right before we get to Vekeryn-"

"I'm aware of the implications, captain!" snapped the admiral.

"I don't think you do, sir!"

The captain's loud voice and defiant tone shook the crew.

"Are you questioning my authority?"

"No sir. I'm simply pointing out that we can still succeed without the Sevastopol ," replied the captain.

The admiral was silent.

"Sir, we are in desperate times. You've ordered men to die before-"

"I'm killing our own even before the Cantharans begin."

"Sir, if you don't, the Cantharans don't even have to begin."

The captain's blunt words woke the admiral.

He stared at the entire bridge crew. Some turned away.

"Understand," said the admiral, loudly. "This order is undertaken by me alone and as fleet commander and commander of the entire mission and this entire operation, I bear sole responsibility!"

"Sir!" shouted the commander.

"Send to Sevastopol : 'self-destruct authorized.'"

The entire crew was stunned. Nobody made a move.

The admiral stared at the communications officer.

"You've been relieved."

The lieutenant was shocked. He was about to protest but the captain held out his hand to silence him. The admiral walked to his console and sent the message himself.

The entire bridge crew stared at the screen. Someone suddenly ran off the bridge. Another turned his head. Someone lowered his head and murmured a prayer.

The image of the Sevastopol was suddenly replaced by a dot. A yellow dot with red, irregular outlines. In a flash, it was gone, too.

The bridge was silent. Finally, a lieutenant reported:

"Sir, the jumpstream is steady."

The admiral screamed: "To hell with the jumpstream!" but only in his head. His lips uttered:

"Very well."

The admiral looked at his entire crew. This time, it was him who is having trouble meeting the eyes of the crew. It was as if those were the eyes from the crew of the Sevastopol . So obedient. So compliant. With not a word of complaint.

The admiral walked off the bridge into his office.

"Admiral's Log: Let it be noted that the crew of the UNS Sevastopol served the United Nations of Sol with distinction and honor."

-htjyang

Special thanks to Sargatanus

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