in circles. And then, as suddenly as the fear arrived, it was gone. There was still work to do, and he was in charge. “Get on my six and keep me covered. Fangs out.”
Together with George, he raced toward Savanna to rejoin with the rest of SP. The frigate loosed the rest of its payload of warheads at the stream of incoming ships. Having pushed too far forward of the main battle line, Savanna sat unprotected and vulnerable and the enemy made all haste to capitalize. Squadrons of alien bombers, hideous crab-shaped machines, unloaded a relentless bombardment onto the stranded and crippled battleship.
“Come on, George,” Cameron said, hitting his afterburner. “She won’t take much more of this.” He activated a signal beacon to all friendly fighters. “Wolfpack, on my position. It’s hunting season.”
Toronto, Canada
Jonah Blightman stared at the monitor, watching the incredible events unfold. A news orbiter struggled to keep up with the action. Ships from every side burst and crumbled on screen, spilling debris onto the battlefield. Every time a human vessel took a hit, the news anchor would immediately speculate about the loss of life.
“What you’re seeing now is the Savanna, one of our frigates. The warship normally carries a crew of six hundred. We have Andrea Lautner, wife of Lieutenant Edward Lautner, who is currently fighting for his life in the skies over Earth.”
Jonah turned the sound down and focused his attention on a warm lager to his right. He hadn’t felt this good in years. “Brooks,” he shouted.
The bartender waddled over. He was by and large the fattest person Jonah had ever seen, but he was jovial and, most importantly, a sympathizer.
“Whaddaya need, Jonah?”
“A round for the bar. On me.” He slapped down a wad of bills and raised his beer. “To our brave soldiers in the sky. May the gods watch over them.” The crowded bar cheered and raised their own drinks. Jonah drained his glass and gestured for a refill. He felt a hand on his shoulder and spun around.
Victor, his second-in-command, stood at attention. He carried a large tablet and a barely concealed pistol under his overcoat. Numerous craters on his face made him a hard man to miss. “Sir, the operation just passed phase three.”
Jonah pumped his fists. “Yes. I loved phase three. That was a personal favorite of mine. Sorry to see it go, but glad it’s done.”
“You’re drunk,” Victor muttered.
“Yes, just a hair. I don’t know if you’ve been paying attention, but there’s some pretty exciting news on TV. For once.”
“I don’t see how this affects us.”
Jonah lost his buoyant personality. Everything about him darkened at once. He grabbed Victor’s shoulder with surprising strength and drew him close. “Everything that affects humanity affects us, you imbecile. There’s no point in trying to start a revolution if you don’t have the means to defend the population once you’re done.” He pointed at the screen. “Whoever those fuckers are, they just became a big variable in our little scheme.”
Victor regarded his superior coldly, but made no move to break the hold. “So?”
“So? We need to rethink phase four. And especially phase five. I need you to send out the word that everyone moves up the due date by a month.”
That got Victor’s attention. “That’s impossible, Jonah. We’ve planned this out to the detail. There’s no room for change.”
“Any plan without flexibility will break at the first sign of resistance.” Jonah smirked. “The first Blightman said that.”
“I know,” Victor said. He pushed away from his boss. “I was with you when he said it. What I meant is that we’ve planned out the timeline very carefully. Certain things have to happen at the right time. If we move this up, we’re bound to lose more than a few foot soldiers.”
“Sacrifices must be made in a time of war. Right now, the Federate is learning that first hand. We need to use this opportunity. In one month, we teach them their second lesson.”
Vienna
Incorporated States of Europe
The high chancellor sat at the table, a glass of bourbon within arm’s reach. Jerry paced the room with the other staffers, yelling at someone on the other end of the phone. Alexander was reaching for his glass when his aide, Arthur Roden, took a seat in front of him. Arthur was his usual immaculate self, spit-shined and perfectly tailored. Alexander wondered if he’d been up all night grooming himself for his entrance. Probably.
“Midway is taking a beating. We don’t want to lose that ship.”
Alexander nodded. “Who’s commanding her?”
Authur leafed through his notes. “Hiro Osaka. He’s a vet, well decorated. Says here he turned down three promotions to admiral so he could stay with the ship.”
The high chancellor smiled. “I should have done that.”
“Sir?”
“Times like this, I really hate wearing this suit.” He tugged at his shirt and tie. “I used to feel in control, when I wore the other uniform. Now, I’m grasping at smoke.”
Authur choked back his first comment and waited to formulate a thought. “Sir, there’s no one in the universe who could have seen this coming. We can’t kick ourselves for not realizing an intergalactic war was on the rise. All we can do is find the opportunities and exploit them while the timing is right.”
Alexander shrugged.
Jerry stormed over, throwing his phone down on the table. “We’re losing ships, but so are they. And, a small spot of good news, it seems we have friends up there. The silver armada either understood our broadcast or just doesn’t see us as a threat.”
“Broadcast?” Arthur asked.
“We put it out in every language, and a binary print that some scientists thought to use. Basically it said, ‘Stay out of the way.’”
Admiral Gilroy, watching from a large display, coughed loudly. His large, bald head dominated the screen, close enough that the staffers could see the vein bulging in his temple. “High Chancellor, with all respect, I need you to reconsider my request.”
Alexander glared at the screen. “You’re out of your mind if you think I’ll even consider it. Ronin protocol is completely unnecessary.”
Gilroy snorted. “Chancellor, this is only the tip of the spear. Just because you’re scared of a little political fallout doesn’t mean we should risk the whole goddamn planet.”
Alexander rose to his full height. Fire burned in his eyes. “I won’t hear another word about this, admiral. I will see stars fall off your shoulders if I hear it again. Am I understood?”
The officer looked ready to explode, but buried his anger and ended the call with a curt nod. Arthur and Jerry exchanged worried glances.
After a long pause, Jerry said, “He’s not wrong.”
“Are
