T. Harris - The Tactics of Revenge

The room fell graveyard quiet; stunned looks covered every face, even that of the Elder. Seven hundred forty-two Human ships!

“I will be ending this link now. I must make preparations to abandon ship. Any additional forces the Command can authorize to this region must be substantial. The Human fleet is unstoppable at this point.”

The screen went blank; no one spoke for a full minute, and then some of the lower ranking techs moved off to other stations.

When Hydon regained awareness to his surroundings he noticed that all eyes were focused on him. He could feel the muscles in his neck as they twitched, knowing that his anger was on visible display.

He turned to Fleet Marshal Relion, who seemed a half-a-head smaller this day than last. “Gather all the data you can on this battle, Relion,” Hydon growled. “I need the clearest picture of what happened as soon as possible. What assets do we have available between Falor-Kapel and here?”

The Fleet Marshal did not consult any screen or datapad. “None, my Lord — none worth mentioning. All our available forces were already deployed.”

Hydon knew his mouth had dropped open involuntarily. He quickly snapped it shut and firmed his jaw. “Have all — and I mean all — remaining military units dispatched immediately to the outer boundary. We do not know if the Humans realize how vulnerable we are to attack. Their journey could take four months, maybe more. Will that be enough time to fortify Juir, Fleet Marshal?”

Relion appeared on the verge of collapse, yet he did manage to say to the Supreme Juirean Leader, “It will have to be Elder. It will have to be.”

After three hours of fighting, the battle was over. The Humans had lost seventy-four ships, plus another one hundred-two damaged to some degree — including Lee’s flagship. As best they could tell, only three Juireans had managed to escape.

If ever there had been a decisive victory, this was it.

Fortunately — and much to his relief — the section of Lee’s ship that had been struck had been unmanned at the time. It contained berthing quarters and focusing ring arrays — part of the ship’s propulsion system. With all his crew at General Quarters, no one had been in those compartments when the ship was hit. Still, two of his crew had suffered cuts and broken bones simply from the impact. When he visited the injured in the small sick bay, they had both been in great spirits, buoyed by the victory in battle they had all experienced.

Lee still kicked himself for having risked their lives. Others within the fleet were expected to be the tip of the sword — not his command ship. This was something he would have deal with, if possible. During his days of flying the single-seat F-35 Lightning II, if he was hit it would be only he who paid the price. Now he had risked his entire crew on account of his childish recklessness. He was sure his uncle would have more than a few choice words to say about the entire affair when they met for debrief.

Within an hour of the conclusion of the battle, the Humans had begun to locate the Juirean damper field satellites and disable them. Once an opening had been made in the field, the Humans bolted out of the killing field and reassembled just outside the Falor-Kapel system.

A shuttle docked with their ship, and Captain Lee Schwartz, USN, along with Tim Carlson, Second-Generation Human, were transferred to the fleet flagship, one of the KFV-D’s, a large Klin disk easily fifty times the size of their KFV-A.

Lee scaled the last ladder leading to the wardroom aboard the fleet flagship, while Tim followed closely, trying his best to keep up. Lee was operating of pure adrenaline now, having not slept in nearly forty hours. The Captain had confided in Tim, telling him that the thrill of the battle, after all the months of playing nursemaid to an ever-growing shadow fleet, had really brought out the warrior in him. And even though he fully expected to be chewed out by his uncle for having risked his life in the actual engagement, he was ready for anything the top brass wanted to throw at him.

Lee entered the wardroom after a quick knock on the door. Inside were five admirals and two generals, each with wide grins on their faces, either standing or seated — and there was champagne on the long metal table. Also, seated against a far wall was Michael Rittenberg, the senior 2G in the fleet.

Lee’s uncle, Admiral Nate Allen, noticed the young Captain immediately. “Speak of the devil, here’s the man of the hour now.”

Nearly all the senior officers gathered around him, shaking hands and patting him on the back. Tim faded into the background, letting Lee have his moment.

Nate Allen approached and gripped his nephew’s right hand tightly. “I should have you busted you all the way down to seaman-recruit for the stunt you pulled out there. You were in command, not some hotshot jet-jockey.”

“Yes, sir,” Lee said, the light in his eyes betraying the bags that had formed below them. “I couldn’t let the other guys have all the fun. Besides, I didn’t ask for the command, you just kinda laid it on me.”

“That’s true, and that is a subject for another time. But right now, great job, son. Great job. This is a victory for the record books.”

“Yeah, it worked, just like it was drawn up.”

The admiral noticed the young 2G standing against a far wall, looking out of place. “Come over here, Mr. Carlson,” he commanded warmly.

Caught off guard, Tim was embarrassed as all the eyes turned toward him. Everyone in the room was aware that he was a 2G, a Human who was not even born on the planet Earth and who had been raised by the Klin. Most native-born were very stand-offish toward his kind; Tim still had no idea why Lee insisted that he come along.

Nate shook the man’s hand vigorously. “I want to thank you for saving my nephew’s life. He told me all about it. Your quick actions and expert knowledge when encountering that fucking field saved many a life. I will be forever in your debt.”

“Eh, thank you, sir,” Tim managed to say. “Just doing my job.”

“Yes you were and a job well done. I know it hasn’t been easy for you over these past several months, but I just want you to know that you are now an honorary native-born Human, and you will always be welcomed as part of the larger Human family. It’s your actions that define you as a man, not your birthplace.”

Tim had to fight back the emotions after hearing the admiral’s words. His whole life had been a study in contradictions and lies, never settled, never feeling like he was part of — well, anything. Now, he not only had friends, respect and acceptance, he also had a home to belong to. And it was not just a house or a country, but an entire planet.

Lee stepped up to them. “What now, Admiral? Where do we go from here?”

There was a large screen on the opposite wall, displaying a bright and colorful representation of this part of the galaxy. Nate looked over at the display. “I guess that depends on where the next Juirean fleet shows up. I know they have to have more than just the one.”

Tim noticed when Rittenberg rose from his chair. As a fellow 2G, Tim had been watching him for a few moments, wondering what emotions were going through his mind as well in the aftermath of the victory over the Juireans. Now he watched as the older man moved closer to the screen.

“Excuse me, sir,” Rittenberg said. “As you know, I have some knowledge regarding the functioning of the Expansion.”

Nate turned to him and raised an eyebrow. “Of course I know. Please…”

Rittenberg moved to the large display, while all the scrambled eggs and silver stars gathered around him. He pointed to a spot on the display. “This is where we are now and this bright cluster near the center is the galactic core. It is a place of incredible violence and destruction, as our central black hole makes the region very unstable. There are very few habitable planets in the region, and so the galaxy is divided into two distinct sides. From what the Juireans have sent against us so far, I believe the Juireans have depleted all their available resources on this side of the galaxy in an all-out attempt to defeat you — us — here at Falor Kapel. If they had had more resources to contribute, I believe they would have already.”