Adrift

The Lost Warship Book One

Daniel Gibbs

Adrift by Daniel Gibbs

Copyright © 2022-2023 by Daniel Gibbs

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This book is a work of fiction, the characters, incidents and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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Also Available from Daniel Gibbs

Battlegroup Z

Book 1 - Weapons Free

Book 2 - Hostile Spike

Book 3 - Sol Strike

Book 4 - Bandits Engaged

Book 5 - Iron Hand

Book 6 - Final Flight

Echoes of War

Book 1 - Fight the Good Fight

Book 2 - Strong and Courageous

Book 3 - So Fight I

Book 4 - Gates of Hell

Book 5 - Keep the Faith

Book 6 - Run the Gauntlet

Book 7 - Finish the Fight

The Lost Warship

Book 1 - Adrift

Book 2 - Mercy

Book 3 - Valor

Book 4 - Justice (Coming in 2023)

Book 5 - Resolve (Coming in 2023)

Book 6 - Faith (Coming in 2023)

Breach of Faith

(With Gary T. Stevens)

Book 1 - Breach of Peace

Book 2 - Breach of Faith

Book 3 - Breach of Duty

Book 4 - Breach of Trust

Book 5 - Spacer’s Luck

Book 6 - Fortune’s Favor

Book 7 - The Iron Dice

Deception Fleet

(With Steve Rzasa)

Book 1 - Victory’s Wake

Book 2 - Cold Conflict

Book 3 - Hazards Near

Book 4 - Liberty’s Price

Book 5 - Ecliptic Flight

Book 6 - Collision Vector

Courage, Commitment, Faith: Tales from the Coalition Defense Force

(Anthology Series)

Volume One

1

CSV Lion of Judah

Lusitania LaGrange Point—Terran Coalition Space

12 December, 2463

Major General David Cohen exited his day cabin and turned toward the bridge, exchanging salutes with the Terran Coalition Marine Corps sentries guarding the double-sized hatch. As he strode into the combined combat information center and bridge, David pulled on his cover—a navy-blue ball cap emblazoned with the Lion's silhouette.

"General Cohen on the bridge," Master Chief Rebecca Tinetariro intoned.

Enlisted crewmen and officers not strapped into their stations sprang to attention and saluted.

"As you were," David said as he returned their salutes. "Got them on their toes, even on our last day out, Master Chief?"

"Of course, sir." Tinetariro grinned in a way that would've made David's blood run cold if he had still been an enlisted soldier.

"Ship's status, XO?" David asked.

The sizeable Saurian officer in the center of the bridge, Talgat Aibek, was a member of the Royal Saurian Navy exchange program with the Coalition Defense Force. He had served with them for three years, and his reptilian form was a fixture.

"All systems nominal, sir. Ready for our final jump." Aibek grinned, showing the extra row of teeth Saurians possessed. Humanoid in appearance, they lacked hair and instead had multicolored scales on their heads.

"Excellent." David walked across the deck to the commanding officer's chair, positioned directly beside Aibek's. "This is General Cohen. I have the conn."

"General Cohen has the conn. Aye."

David dropped into the oversize chair, and his gaze swept the room. An experimental warship, the Lion of Judah held the first antimatter reactor deployed by the Terran Coalition. It was among a handful of vessels that contained the new CDF technology and had been instrumental in defeating the League of Sol. "Navigation, confirm Lawrence drive coordinates."

"Coordinates for Canaan high loop nine confirmed, sir," First Lieutenant Shelly Hammond replied.

"Well, I don't see any reason to delay our homecoming. Navigation, engage Lawrence drive."

After spending his entire adult life in service to his country, fighting the League of Sol in various capacities, David was ready for continued peace. After decisively winning the Third Battle of Canaan—thanks in no small part to his and the Lion's efforts—the Terran Coalition had dictated terms to their defeated foe. After that, the conflict had shifted. Instead of fighting daily battles with the overwhelming numerical superiority of the communist League, the CDF grappled with how to win the peace. Which is why we just spent the last three months flying the flag and delivering humanitarian aid across the Independent Systems Federation.

Ahead of the ship, a vortex began to take shape. The Lawrence drive generated an artificial wormhole between two points in space, allowing the vessel to travel vast distances in the blink of an eye. As the kaleidoscope of colors swirled in the void, the maw of the tunnel opened.

"Navigation, take us in. Communications, signal our escorts to follow. No need for them to waste multiple jumps."

"Aye, aye, sir," First Lieutenant Robert Taylor, the Lion's first-watch communications officer and cryptology specialist, replied.

David had experienced thousands of wormhole transits, ranging from civilian freighters to destroyers, stealth ships, and the largest capital ships in the fleet. As such, he knew in the pit of his stomach the moment they entered the vortex that something was wrong. The colors of the artificial tunnel were off, and the deck seemed to hum with a strange energy that made a sound unlike anything he'd ever heard.

As he opened his mouth to request a status update from Hammond, she spoke first. "Conn, Navigation. Anomalies from the Lawrence drive, sir. Exotic-particle release."

The phrase struck fear in every spacer. Quark-gluon plasma, formed as a byproduct of overuse of the Lawrence drive, could destroy the ship if it hit the wrong thing in sufficient quantities—especially their reactor. David ran through the playbook of what he could do to mitigate the damage. But wait a minute. We haven't jumped in three days. There shouldn't be any exotic-particle release. The why could wait until they'd regained control. "Options, Lieutenant?"

"Drive shutdown, sir." As if to punctuate her words, the Lion heaved, throwing the crew around in their harnesses.

The transit was taking far longer than average. What the heck is going on here? "Shut down the drive. Emergency override," David barked.

"Aye, aye, sir." Hammond turned toward him a few moments later, her brown eyes wide with fear. "No response, sir."

David punched a button on his armrest. "Cohen to Hanson. We have a situation. Cut power to the Lawrence drive immediately."

The voice of Major Arthur Hanson echoed through a speaker built into the CO's chair. "Not exactly that easy, sir. We're working it down here, but I've never seen anything like this before."

In the distance, a white light shone at the end of the swirling mass of color. As blue and green streaks of energy zipped by the transparent-alloy windows at the front of the bridge, the brilliant white in the center of the opening grew closer and more prominent. "Master Chief, sound collision alarm."

"Aye, aye, sir," Tinetariro replied, and almost immediately, a klaxon wailed.

Anyone not strapped into a station took steps to secure themselves.

"Conn, Navigation," Hammond interjected above the din. "Navigational sensors detect no obstruction ahead or solid matter."

"Any conjecture on what it is, Lieutenant?"

"None, sir."

David felt his OODA—observe, orient, decide, act—loop compromised momentarily. There's nothing more I can do or anyone else on this ship can accomplish. Either we come out the other side, or we don't. The realization was sobering, and shock pulsed through his mind. We survived decades of combat against the League to get blown apart by an FTL malfunction? It didn't seem fair.

Then the Lion of Judah flew through the pure-white light that seemed to emanate from everywhere all at once. The vessel bucked like it had been hit by enough weapons fire to reduce the ship to its constituent atoms. The shaking went on for what seemed like an eternity before a final heave, and the blackness of the void appeared in front of them.

"Damage report, XO," David uttered, not quite believing they were still alive. Pain shot through his right hand, and a large bruise had spread across the top of it along with fresh blood from a cut.

"Microfractures across the main engineering hull," Aibek replied. "Numerous secondary systems on auto-shutdown mode, and sustained exotic-particle release detected. Engineering reports no coolant or fuel lines damaged. Injuries sustained by crewmen throughout the ship."

No critical blows. That's a start. "Good.” My God, our escorts. So focused on the Lion, he’d momentarily forgotten the other vessels with them. “TAO, what about the battlegroup? Did they make it?”

“Yes, sir. We’ve got seven contacts at close range, all six destroyers and the Salinan,” Captain Ruth Goldberg, the tactical action officer, replied.

"Communications, get a docking vector from Canaan control."

"Aye, aye, sir," Taylor replied.

"Um, sir," Hammond interjected, her voice quivering. "We're not at Canaan."

David tilted his head. "Then where are we, Lieutenant?"

"I don't know, sir. The navigation system is saying we're no longer in the Milky Way galaxy."

"What?" David sprang from his chair and crossed the distance to her console. "That’s impossible.” Staring over Hammond’s shoulder, he confirmed her assessment. This isn’t happening. His first thought was they were dead and somehow headed into the afterlife. No, that doesn’t make sense. Somehow, I can’t see heaven’s waiting room being the bridge of the Lion.

“The book doesn’t cover this, sir.” Hammond’s voice held fear.

“There are only two options,” David replied as he stood tall and faced the watchstanders behind the tactical and navigation consoles. “One is that our sensors are damaged. The other is we’re a long way from where we’re supposed to be. Master Chief, send a master-at-arms to find Dr. Hayworth and escort him up here immediately. In the meanwhile, Lieutenant, keep working the problem.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

David slid back into his chair and stared into the void. The enormity of the situation hit him like a ton of bricks. He clung to his faith as an Orthodox Jew at such times. “Adonai, if it is Your will, grant my crew the wisdom and ability to determine where we are and how to return home,” David whispered in Hebrew before blowing out a breath. How are we even alive after a forty-five-second wormhole transit? His mind swam with a thousand possibilities, all of them bad. Let’s hope it’s only a sensor malfunction.

CDF Central Space Station

Canaan – Terran Coalition Home World

13 December, 2463

Andrew MacIntosh—four-star general and commander, space fleet of the CDF—no longer had an office in the station's bowels. He sat in the pinnacle of the spire, in charge of the most significant military space force in the local star cluster. While the Coalition Defense Force had been battered by the thirty-year war with the League of Sol, especially by the Third Battle of Canaan, it was making good on its losses at an impressive clip.

After thirty-five years in the service, MacIntosh had planned to retire, but a personal appeal from the president of the Terran Coalition, Justin Spencer, caused him to put off those plans. When the president calls, one must answer. But lately, it seemed all he did was create paperwork and go from meeting to meeting. Ninety percent of my day is spent in some conference room, on a vidlink or a holoprojector. MacIntosh held some bitterness over that. He longed for one more spin around the galaxy. Or to return to my youth when I got to go out and do things.

MacIntosh finished signing a stack of digital forms and had four minutes before the next meeting. Ah, good. I can clear my head.

His mental reverie was interrupted by a buzz from his handcomm. He brought the device up to his lips and activated it. “Yes?”

“General,” his adjutant, Major Melanie Roberts, answered. “We have a situation. The Lion of Judah hasn’t arrived at the jump point.”

“Have you checked with Lusitania control?” MacIntosh’s heart skipped a few beats.

“I think it would be best if you spoke with them, sir. The science was a bit over my head.”

“Patch it through to my tablet, Major.”

“Yes, sir.”

An unsmiling human face appeared on MacIntosh’s desk-mounted tablet device a few moments later. “Good afternoon, General.”

MacIntosh scanned the man’s rank insignia. “Lieutenant Colonel…”

“Davis, sir. PASCORE control.”

What’s the Passive Scan and Observation System got to do with this? “My adjutant said you have an urgent report.”

“Yes, sir.” Davis bit his lip. “The Lion of Judah’s wormhole from Lusitania to Canaan, sir. A nanosecond after the last ship of the Lion’s battlegroup entered, the vortex destabilized. We’re lucky they were as far out as they were when they jumped, because the neutrino levels were off the charts.”

“What do you mean by ‘off the charts,’ Colonel?”

“Sir, I doubt any vessel could’ve survived the intensity of whatever that was. We’ve got a science vessel on the way to investigate further, and our best people are reviewing the data. But suffice it to say there’s no record of the Lion emerging anywhere else in the Sagittarius arm, and my personal guess is that if they emerged at all, it was millions, if not billions of light-years from here.”

MacIntosh choked up. “The loss of that ship and the crew on her are not an option.” Cohen, the Lion of Judah, and all of them… they’re more than a single warship with an experimental reactor. They represent the heart and soul of the Coalition Defense Force.

“There’s nothing we can do, sir.” Davis shook his head. “I’m in shock myself.”

“I want answers, Colonel. I’ll be looping in the Coalition Science Division, CDF Special Projects, and anyone else I can think of.”

“Of course, sir. Standing by to assist in any way we can with PASCORE.”

“Redirect the entire array to search for the Lion of Judah’s unique anti-matter signature.”

Davis’ face blanched. “Sir, that requires high-level authorization.”

“Which you’re getting from me, in my position as COMSPAFOR.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Last thing… I want hourly updates,” MacIntosh snapped. “Sooner, if you get any actionable information.”

“Yes, sir.”

“MacIntosh out.”

The tablet went dark as the vidlink disconnected, and it returned to the standard operating screen.

It took MacIntosh a few minutes to snap out of his shock and make a gold-level request to speak immediately with Justin Spencer. How do I tell the president that the Lion and General Cohen are gone? When he thought of the families of over ten thousand crewmen and officers, between the ships in the battlegroup, emptiness settled into his soul. It’s not fair. They survived the worst war we’ve ever seen to disappear into a spatial anomaly? As the tablet’s screen came to life with the image of Spencer, MacIntosh forced himself to go on.

2

David was poring over a data log from the Lawrence drive when he heard the distinctive sound of the bridge hatch opening. Let’s hope they found the good doctor. A leading scientist, Dr. Benjamin Hayworth had invented the antimatter reactor and revolutionized technology within the Terran Coalition. Attached to the ship as the chief engineering consultant since the Lion’s launch in 2460, he’d become a valuable crew member.

“General, what is the meaning of this?” Hayworth thundered. “I was in the middle of an important miniaturization experiment.”

“We have a situation, Doctor,” David said as he stood, turning. “And you’re the smartest person on this ship.”

Hayworth narrowed his eyes. “What’s going on?”

David gestured to the main holoprojector tank in the center of the bridge. It separated the senior officers from the enlisted watchstanders and allowed for complete freedom of viewing space outside the vessel. “Our navigation system doesn’t recognize the stars, and the error messages are consistent with our no longer being in the Milky Way.”

“I must confess, General, I’m impressed,” Hayworth replied, chuckling. “A bit of an out-of-the-box practical joke, even for you, though.”

“Not a joke, Doctor.” David crossed his arms.

The smile faded from Hayworth’s face. “Seriously?”

“Yes.”

Hayworth gestured toward the navigation console and Hammond. “May I have a look?”

“Lieutenant, pull up our nav array, and let him examine it.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

For several minutes, Hayworth bent down, peering over Hammond’s shoulder, adjusting the controls every so often, and conferring with her.

He pulled himself up abruptly. “There is no evidence of a sensor malfunction.”

“So where the heck are we?”

“I don’t know,” Hayworth said. His usual smugness was gone, replaced by a quiet voice and darting eyes. “I need to get back to my lab and get the scientific sensor suite online.” One of Hayworth’s demands for working on the antimatter project was installing highly accurate long-range science-scanning systems on the Lion of Judah. Unique for a warship, they had proven invaluable.

“Can you reroute them to a bridge console?”

“I suppose so. Why?”

David gestured to a row of consoles behind the holoprojector. “Take over the secondary tactical station, and reconfigure it as you see fit, Doctor. Until we get some clarity on this, I want you on the bridge, working with the senior staff.” He normally loathed having civilians on the bridge, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Without being told, Tinetariro dismissed the rating manning the station David had indicated and cleared the workspace before appearing at Hayworth’s side. “Doctor, if you’ll follow me.”

Hayworth turned to David. “I’d prefer to work in my lab, if it’s all the same.”

“It’s not, Doctor. We’ll get to a solution faster if you’re up here, working the problem with us. You’ve got thirty minutes to formulate a working theory with Lieutenant Hammond. At that point, we’ll meet in the conference room to share ideas and figure out what to do next.”

“You can’t rush science, General.” Hayworth set his jaw. “And I’m not in the mil—”

David held up his hand. “Stow it. Consider yourself drafted for the day. Station now.”

With a snort, Hayworth turned on his heel and stomped to the back of the bridge.

David turned his attention to another thought. “TAO, anything on tactical sensors?”

“Nothing besides the seven Sierra contacts, sir,” Ruth replied. She’d served with David since his first command, the CSV Yitzhak Rabin. He considered her one of the finest tactical officers in the fleet. “As far as I can tell, we’re in deep space and not within the gravity well of a solar system.”

Which means we can jump out quickly in an emergency, assuming our Lawrence drive still works. “Good.” David returned to his seat and pressed the engineering intercom button on his armrest. “Cohen to Hanson.”

“Go ahead, sir,” came the reply a few moments later.

“Status?”

“Performing a complete check of all reactor systems and the FTL, sir.”

“Be at the deck one conference room in…” David glanced at the chronometer above the tactical display. “Twenty-six minutes.”

“Aye, aye, sir.” The line went dead.

Aibek hissed. “Saurians do not feel fear often.” He raised a scale over his right eye. “But I will confess to having some now. As a warrior, I am prepared for battle with no notice. But there is no preparation for an outcome such as this.”

David leaned back. “There could yet be a logical reason for what we’re seeing. A sensor glitch or perhaps some sort of anomaly.” Something deep within his soul told him they were far from home, and good thoughts weren’t going to help the matter, but he pushed the feeling down.

“Yes, old friend.” Aibek returned his gaze forward.

Ten minutes before the senior staff meeting started, David excused himself from the bridge and left Aibek in command. He took a moment in his day cabin, a small office with a bunk, right off the central passageway on deck one. It allowed him to complete paperwork in peace while providing a place to sleep if the Lion of Judah was in danger.

It seems like I’ve spent most of the last three years in either this chair or the one on the bridge. During the war with the League, David had rarely gone below to his more expansive stateroom, which was akin to a small apartment. One of the knickknacks on his desk, an inert hand grenade with a small plastic 1 hanging off it, brought a smile to his face. A small plaque on the front of it read “Complaint Department. Please take a number.” A master chief he’d worked with had given it to him many years ago.

He had no time yet for introspection or self-doubt—only quiet professionalism in the face of the unknown. Yet an hour ago, David had been on top of the universe. With what appeared to be a lasting peace at hand, the idea of no longer having to fight and kill his fellow humans was a weight lifted from his soul. But everything had become a question mark. I must trust my crew and in Hashem to see us through.

He stood, exited his day cabin, and walked the few steps to the conference room to find it nearly full. Aibek, Ruth, Hanson, Hammond, and Tinetariro occupied the seats nearest the head of the table, while Dr. Hayworth and Taylor sat toward the back. They were joined by Dr. Tural, the Lion’s chief medical officer, and Major Elizabeth Merriweather, a CDF special projects officer who ran the reactor-design program. Colonel Calvin Demood, the Terran Coalition Marine Corps MEU commander, rounded out those assembled. The commanding officers of the six Ajax-class destroyers in their battlegroup along with the commander of the CSV Salinan had joined by vidlink.

Tinetariro sprang to her feet. “General on deck!”

The others followed suit.

“As you were,” David said before dropping into the open seat. “Tell me this is a sensor malfunction, and we’re a few jumps from home.”

Hammond and Hayworth exchanged glances as everyone sat.

“I’m afraid not, sir,” Hammond said as she worked the holoprojector controls. “May I, sir?”

“By all means.”

A three-dimensional image of the universe appeared, centered on the Milky Way galaxy, and the lights dimmed to allow ease of viewing. A dot flashed on a different galaxy, off to the side.

“Dr. Hayworth and I have found that the stars currently visible to us on medium- and long-distance sensors correspond within ninety-six percent tolerance to observations of Sextans B.”

“Dumb it down for me, Lieutenant,” David replied with a forced grin. “I didn’t take astronomy at the Coalition War College.”

“We’re four-point-four million light-years from Canaan, give or take a hundred thousand light-years,” Hayworth interjected. He crossed his arms. “For the rest of you who aren’t up on astronomy, that’s a rather long way.”

David blinked. “One jump a day at maximum range would take roughly thirty-five years to get home.” He didn’t bother to ask about communications over that distance—with the Coalition’s level of technology, it was impossible.

“Apparently, you took math.” Hayworth harrumphed. “Your answer is correct. Which means we’re effectively stranded.”

“Let’s not be hasty, Doctor,” David replied. The last thing we need to do is let defeatism set up among the senior officers.

“He’s right, sir,” Hanson interjected. “We only have enough antimatter fuel for two years of normal operation. Our escorts have a lot less than that for helium-3 stores. To say nothing of the wear and tear on our Lawrence drive from that many back-to-back jumps. Food, water, raw materials… There’s no place to resupply in the void between galaxies. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out we’re screwed.”

David let out a breath. “Stow that talk, Major. We got here somehow. Our FTL system doesn’t magically decide to go twelve thousand times its normal range on a whim. Something caused this. That something can be found and harnessed to get us home.” He turned to Dr. Hayworth. “Right, Doctor?”

“Any speculation about a cause for what’s happened here is just that—speculation. In my analysis, as short as it was, I did find evidence of an unusual energy signature present in the last jump.”

“Go on.”

Hayworth shrugged. “Not much more I can give you after thirty minutes, General. Science takes time.”

“You have to have some sort of hypothesis.”

Everyone stared intently at Hayworth, possibly more so than David had ever seen them interested in something the scientist had to say.

“There’re only two possibilities I can think of. One is a natural phenomenon that we happened to get caught up in. The other is an advanced alien civilization, perhaps along the lines of Kardashev type two or even type three, brought us here for some purpose or by accident.”

“A Kardashev what?” David asked.

Hayworth grumbled. “Is basic science knowledge not a requirement in secondary schools anymore?”

“Doctor… humor me.”

“If this is alien technology at work, we’re talking about a civilization that has the ability to harness the full power of a star or even an entire galaxy. We could link fifty antimatter reactors together and not get enough energy to open a wormhole that spans ten thousand light-years, much less millions. To put it into perspective for you.”

“My God.” Hanson’s jaw dropped.

The implications made David feel weak at the knees. “I see. How do you determine which one of those options we’re dealing with?”

“Research and time.” Hayworth crossed his arms. “It would help if I were on a science ship with access to labs, research assistants, and other scientists.”

“Would it be of assistance if we assigned soldiers who have taken astronomy or one of the sciences as a minor in their college education to you?”

Hayworth snorted. “Oh, yes. Because amateur astronomers study advanced particle physics.” He made a show of rolling his eyes.

“Doctor,” Merriweather said sharply. “We’d be grateful for any help.”

“Yes, of course.” Hayworth’s face contorted, almost as if saying the words caused him pain.

“I’ll have the XO and the master chief comb our ranks.” David decided to ignore his antics, as feeding them had never worked before. “In the meanwhile, we have to prepare to be in this place for some time. It could be days, weeks, months… even, God forbid, years.”

“Years?” Calvin leaned forward. “We just got through fighting the worst war the Terran Coalition has ever seen. I’d say eighty percent of my Marines have already put in separation papers. Somebody needs to consider morale here.”

Preaching to the choir, old friend. David licked his lips. “Colonel Demood is correct, but we have little choice. We’re here. Until we get home, our only option is to keep functioning as a military unit. Good order and discipline will stave off other… undesired outcomes.”

“I think the ratings would appreciate hearing the truth from you as soon as possible, sir,” Tinetariro interjected. Everything about her seemed off, from the normal lilt of her English accent to the placement of the African Union flag patch on her left shoulder. “As much as I’m loath to admit a Marine being right… the Colonel hit it on the head.”

“We could tell them they have the opportunity of a lifetime… explore a new galaxy,” Hayworth quipped.

The rest ignored him.

David cleared his throat. “As soon as we have something to say besides ‘We’re four-point-four million light-years from home,’ I’ll address the crew. Until then, I want all department heads to push it down to your team leaders and NCOs, and in turn, have them repeat it until they’re blue in the face. We will figure out a way home. Until then, we’re going to do our best. Now, what’s the situation on consumables? Food, water, fuel.”

“A month of fresh food,” Aibek said, his scales changing hue. “Though there will be fewer choices in a week or two.”

“There’s always the year of combat rations stored in the cargo bay,” Tinetariro interjected. She tried a wry grin, but it didn’t come off. “We can generate our own water and oxygen for at least six months with no resupply.”

David sighed. “Start immediate power conservation, and enforce a no-Hollywood-showers policy, even more strenuously than we do now. That goes for the entire battlegroup.” While all members of the CDF were expected to take a two-minute space shower, someone always went longer on a ship the size of the Lion of Judah.

“Yes, sir.”

“For now, we’ll avoid food rationing, but instruct the enlisted and officer messes to stop serving snacks during the off hours. That’ll conserve something.”

Tinetariro nodded. “I’ll see to it myself.”

“We have a full war load of munitions, including magnetic-cannon shells, Hunter and Starbolt missiles, and consumables for the small craft,” Ruth interjected. “And of course, our energy-based weapons.”

“Which, God help us, if we get into a fight, we’ll use first.” David shook his head. “Let’s hope we can make some friends instead.”

“Or at the very least, have them be technologically less advanced than us,” Ruth replied.

The conservation lulled, and David kicked around what to say next.

Dr. Hayworth beat him to it. “If there are habitable planets nearby, we could take on supplies there. Assuming, of course, the plants aren’t poisonous to us.”

“That would be inadvisable, Doctor,” Dr. Tural spoke up. “It could take years to observe the effects of some types of hazardous flora, and we lack the scientific capabilities to perform the proper tests.”

David nodded. “We need to remember this is a warship, not a science vessel, and we’re not explorers. We’re soldiers, and we’re only doing this until we get back to our home—and the citizens we’re sworn to defend.”

“Bravo, General.” Hayworth made a show of rolling his eyes again. “To Dr. Tural’s point, then we could bring soil aboard, even from a barren world. If it’s properly fertilized, we ought to be able to grow new vegetables from seeds in what’s left from our food stores.”

The beginnings of a plan clicked together in David’s mind. “There’s got to be a few people on this ship who know how to tend a garden, Master Chief. Find them, and start the prep work. Dr. Hayworth, find us some habitable planets while you figure out the energy-signature mystery.”

“I’ll see if I can get you a nice steak and a baked potato while I’m at it. Maybe a new helicar.”

David again let the barb pass. “If you can, no complaints from me, Doctor.” He flashed a small smile. “What’s a reasonable cadence for updates on your research into the phantom energy signature?”

“When I find something… which you won’t accept, so how about every four hours?” Hayworth replied.

“Make it every two, and go through the XO to pull in anything you need.” David glanced at Aibek. “The doctor has carte blanche.”

“Understood, sir.”

“Anything else?” When no one spoke, David gestured toward the hatch. “Then let’s back to work. Godspeed, and good luck with your assignments.”

As the crew headed for the exit, David felt the enormity of the situation start to sink in. He thought of his mother, Sarah. She’ll be heartbroken, because I would wager the CDF thinks we’re dead.

I cannot dwell on this. David decided to make himself useful by returning to his day cabin and going through personnel records, looking for anyone with scientific knowledge. It also dawned on him that he should talk with each CO in the battlegroup separately to gauge their status and provide a morale boost. I’m flying by the seat of my pants here—one step at a time.

3

Later that evening, after standing watch for almost two shifts, Ruth Goldberg entered the officer's mess nearest the bridge, which was the closest thing to a wardroom that General Cohen utilized on the Lion of Judah. But long ago, he’d made it clear that any member of the senior staff was welcome.

She clutched a mug of hot tea and stared into the void. The stars were different from any Ruth remembered, and a distant nebula’s vivid blue and red hues stood out.

“Is this seat taken?” Robert Taylor asked.

She turned and gave him a quirked grin. “It’s only available to one man. Maybe you know him. Comms geek. Likes logic puzzles and codes.”

Taylor chuckled as he slid in beside her. “I’m beat.”

“Me too.” Ruth rested her head on his shoulder. “That sandwich is yours, if you want it. I got an extra, since you weren’t here yet.”

While they’d made plans to have dinner together, he’d gotten roped into helping Hayworth at the last moment. “Thanks.” Taylor closed his eyes for a moment before taking a bite of it. “Ham and cheese. Can’t go wrong there.”

“Any progress?”

“Not really. Hayworth had me run a cryptography analysis on some energy wave he isolated. Said it was out-of-the-box thinking.”

Ruth giggled. “That was a passable impression of the good doctor.”

“Thanks.” He took another bite. “Thank you so much for saving this. I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”

“Anytime. One of these days, I might even make you dinner.”

Taylor turned bright red. “Uh, ah, yeah.”

“Seriously? That’s all it takes to embarrass you?” Ruth waggled the finger with the engagement ring he’d given her on it. “I might remind you cooking together in some shape or form is in our future.” After the end of the war, Taylor had asked her to marry him, and to her surprise, she’d said yes. He’d planned to leave the CDF after the conclusion of the Lion’s goodwill tour.

“Well, it’s not like it's common knowledge. If we start sleeping in the same stateroom…”

Ruth scrunched her nose. “We had to put in the paperwork with General Cohen, so he knows, and so does Colonel Aibek.”

“That’s different.”

“Are you telling me that if we’re stuck here for God only knows how long, we’re just going to date, and that’s it?” Ruth pursed her lips. “You spent a long time courting me, Robert. Now you get to keep me.” He’d better not be suggesting we keep our engagement a secret.

Taylor planted a kiss on the top of her head. Her brown hair was coiled up in a tight bun, in keeping with CDF grooming standards. “You’re right.”

She mimicked holding up a digital recorder. “Say that again.”

He laughed and took another bite of food. “Don’t get used to it.”

“Did you hear anything from the other ships in our battlegroup?”

“Lots of lousy RUMINT. The skipper of the Salinan is the real deal. And a few of the destroyer COs are, well, shaken. Especially Lt. Colonel Savchenko.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean he’s scared shitless.”

“Great. Savchenko commands the CSV Margaret Thatcher, right?”

Taylor nodded. “Yeah.”

Ruth let her gaze wander back out to the void. “I’m scared,” she said softly.

“I know.”

She turned back to him. “Oh? How?”

“Because I am too.”

How did this happen? It’s not fair. We earned something better for ourselves after fighting the League for thirty years. Ruth interlaced her fingers with Taylor’s. “What if we’re stuck here?”

Taylor’s face clouded. “I’m not ready to even think about that. Never seeing my mom and dad or my brothers…” He bit his lip. “That’s a loss I can’t even conceive of.”

“Aside from a couple of cousins I’ve never met, the only people I care about are on this ship.” Ruth squeezed his hand. “You, specifically. And my friends.”

“I think I envy you about now.”

Ruth embraced him suddenly. “No, I’d rather have some people who share my blood and care whether I live or die.”

“Hey, Mom and Dad were over the moon for us.”

She forced a smile, remembering the vidlink between the Taylors, Robert, and her. “Yeah. They did seem like they were happy.”

Taylor grinned comically. “I think they were scared to see what kind of girl would want anything to do with me and very pleasantly surprised when you appeared on the screen.”

“Uh-huh.” Ruth playfully whapped him on the shoulder. “Stop being cute.”

“Can’t help it.”

“At least there’s no one else in here to see us.”

“Yeah.” Taylor finished the sandwich. “We’d better get some rest. Tomorrow’s going to be another day of nonstop work.”

“Do you want to meet here at oh-six-thirty before we report to the morning watch? Maybe have some breakfast?”

“Sure.” Taylor took a drink of water. “You’re being more touchy-feely tonight than you have been in six months.”

“Are you complaining?” Ruth asked sharply.

“No. I just… Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I will be. Once I can accept what’s happened. There will be more prayer than usual tonight.” Below the Terran Coalition flag patch on Ruth’s left shoulder proudly sat the flag of Christianity. She’d had a complicated history with religion but eventually found refuge in its teachings, converting before the final battle the Lion had fought with the League of Sol.

“Say one for me too.”

Ruth smiled. “I will.”

“I’ll see you in a few hours.” Taylor stood abruptly as an enlisted steward walked in. “Good night.” He hurried away, leaving her still sitting at the table.

While Ruth understood why he’d bolted out of the mess, part of her wanted nothing more than to spend the night in his arms, feeling safe from danger. What’s wrong with me? A year ago, I wanted nothing to do with anyone, and my only goal was to kill as many Leaguers as possible.

On the journey back to her cabin, she had an epiphany. It’s not that something is wrong with me. It’s that something is right again. The realization helped her to sleep.

Deep in the bowels of the Lion, Arthur Hanson carried a sealed pitcher of piping-hot CDF coffee through the passageway of deck twenty-six. He’d stuck his nose into Dr. Hayworth’s lab to find both him and Major Merriweather exhausted from ten straight hours of experiments. Being a true engineer at heart, Hanson offered to get them some coffee, since no one was interested in sleep.

As he swung open the hatch to the lab, muttered curses reached him.

“Argh!” Hayworth slammed a piece of equipment down.

“Whoa, there, Doc,” Hanson said as he hefted the pitcher. “I’ve got the good stuff.”

“Put it down, and get out.” Hayworth let out another roar.

Staring in amazement, Hanson dropped the pitcher on the nearest counter that didn’t have delicate electronic devices on it. In the three years since meeting the doctor, he’d never seen him so animated. Sure, he was temperamental, opinionated, and took glee in being as crabby as possible—especially to those who weren’t trained in science—but throwing things was out of character.

“Dr. Hayworth believes he has discovered what the energy signature is,” Merriweather said, as if it explained everything.

“Uh, that’s good news, right?” Hanson asked with a forced grin. “Cause for celebration.”

“Not if it’s a new type of exotic matter with a negative mass.”

“You lost me, Doc.” While exceptionally skilled at engineering tasks, reactor control, and keeping starships running, Hanson was not a theoretical physicist. Nor did he have any desire to be.

Hayworth grunted. “Of course I did. Whatever this new particle is, it has negative energy. In effect, the interaction between normal matter and this exotic matter produces runaway amounts of energy. That’s what got us here.”

“So how do we replicate it?”

“At times, I wonder about the future of our youth. This observation confirms theories we thought could never be proven. That is to say nothing of how to construct a device that would create an energy state that defies the laws of known physics.”

Hanson let him stew for a moment while he let the implications sink in. That sounds like it would take half the research budget of the Coalition to figure out. “Can you tell if it’s a natural process or artificial?”

“I don’t believe something of this power could be natural,” Merriweather interjected.

“And this is why neither of you are scientists. Faith and belief have nothing to do with facts. I deal solely in facts, and I can’t quantify the energy output, much less determine where it came from!” Hayworth thundered.

“Maybe we don’t need to fully understand it, Doc.” Hanson stroked his chin. “Look at this from an engineering perspective.”

Hayworth made a show of rolling his eyes. “My boy, I have little thrift for engineers.” At a sharp glare from Merriweather, he continued, “Present company excepted, of course.”

“All we need to do is construct something that tells us if this exotic energy is present, right? Illuminate its trail, if you will.”

“You make it sound easy.”

After three years of working with the scientist, Hanson had grown impervious to his acerbic expressions. Let’s face it. Hayworth’s more brilliant than any fifty other humans put together. “What kind of charge does the energy you detected have?”

“Negative, of course.”

Hanson grinned. “Exactly, Doc. Think about it. We have a massive positive-charge generator mounted at various points all over our ship.”

As Hayworth stared at him with an inscrutable expression, Merriweather chuckled. “The neutron-beam emitters. Of course.”

“I fail to see what shooting at it will get us, Mr. Hanson.”

“It’s possible to retune the emitters to function as a wide beam and vastly reduce their power.”

Hayworth grinned for the first time Hanson could remember in days. “Now I see, my boy. Positively charged particles will show us the trail of the negatively charged exotic energy. Perhaps my criticism of the engineering field was a bit hasty.” His smile faded. “Though we’d have to stay at sublight speeds to track it. That does little good.”

“A bearing to backtrack on would probably let us pinpoint where it came from, especially if it’s a natural phenomenon from a star,” Merriweather interjected. “This sort of thing moves in a straight line.”

“Under a normal physics model, yes. That’s not what we’re dealing with.”

“Doc, one thing at a time, okay?”

“Yes, yes.” Hayworth walked around the lab and poured coffee into his mug. He screwed the lid back on. “There’s still a lot of math to be done here.”

“Yeah. Why don’t you get on that, and I’ll get the third-watch engineering team on deck to make modifications.” Hanson brought his wrist comm up. “Major Hanson to the command duty officer.”

“This is Lieutenant Kelsey, sir.”

Hanson recognized the voice of Victoria Kelsey, the Lion’s second-watch tactical officer. I guess the watch standing is borked up there too. “Lieutenant, I need you to alert the XO that we’ll be conducting some tests on starboard neutron beam number three, and it will be offline for the next few hours.”

“Understood, sir. Do we need to wake up General Cohen?”

“Negative. Not until I’ve completed the tests.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

The commlink went dead.

“Okay.” Hanson said. “I’ll go get some of my guys and be back in a jiffy.”

Merriweather rubbed her stomach. “Some food would go a long way, since we skipped dinner again.”

“I’ll see what I can get out of the mess.”

“Don’t you remember? General Cohen said no snacks after hours.”

Hanson grinned. “I’m the second officer. That counts for something.”

She snickered. “Not touching that with a five-meter pole, Major.”

“I’ll be back.” Hanson turned on his heel and pushed the hatch open. While thoughts of getting home were present, he felt like a schoolboy again, discovering some essential truth about the universe. I wonder if there’s any way we could adapt this new type of matter to our reactors. The possibilities were endless, as long as they could figure out where it came from and harness the energy.

4

David awoke every morning at 0430 hours, with or without an alarm, though he always set one when aboard the Lion, just to be sure. Like every other morning, as an Orthodox Jew David began by reciting the Shema with his hand over his eyes. An hour later, after completing his exercise routine in the officers' gym, showering, and having a small pastry for breakfast, David arrived at the synagogue in the aft of the mighty vessel.

The Lion of Judah had a crew of nearly ten thousand when the Marine and Aviation contingents were counted. As such, it possessed several distinct houses of worship for the various religions of the Terran Coalition. In addition to the synagogue was a chapel, used by all major Christian denominations, a mosque, and a separate religious space used interchangeably by Sikhs, Hindus, and secular humanists.

He pushed open the hatch to the shul but paused before entering and placed a head covering called a kippah over his tightly cropped brown hair then took out the prayer shawl his mother had given him during his bar mitzvah. Known as a tallit gadol, it was white with black stripes, according to Orthodox tradition. The cloth was one of his most prized possessions. Finally, David strapped a black leather box onto his left arm with a special knot that he wound seven times around his forearm and hand. He strapped a matching box to his forehead. The tefillin fulfilled the call in the Torah to keep God’s words in mind by binding them as a sign upon the hands and between the eyes of a Jew during worship.

David sat down just inside the hatch, at the closest pew. He rarely sat in the front or even the middle, preferring to draw as little attention to himself as possible. After completing the required morning prayers, he added another in Hebrew at the end. “Adonai, if it is within Your will, please help my crew and me return to our homes. Grant us wisdom, help us to do what is right, and show Your purpose in this place.”

Rocking in place, David finished the morning cycle, then he sat still on the pew, his eyes still closed. His Jewish faith was his place of refuge when everything else overwhelmed him.

A week ago, my biggest concern was deciding on new officers for the Lion while trying to convince General MacIntosh to keep us on the sharp tip of the spear.

All manner of different courses of action had gone through his mind, ranging from trying to put the crew into cryostasis and running the ship on automatic back to the Milky Way to finding a suitable planet to create a colony on in Sextans B. Perhaps Hayworth will have some success.

David opened his eyes to find Lieutenant Colonel Erez Kravitz standing beside his pew. A shorter man at 1.7 meters, Kravitz wore a kippah as well. His uniform carried a shoulder patch indicating his status as a member of the Rabbinical corps in the Coalition Defense Force.

“Ah, Rabbi. I didn’t want to disturb you.”

Kravitz squeezed past David’s knees and sat next to him. “It is never a bother to minister to a fellow Jew or anyone who needs guidance.” He let out a sigh. “How are you holding up?”

“Oh, just peachy,” David replied with a bitter chuckle. “There’s something ironic about this… the victorious soldiers, unable to enjoy the fruits of their hard-won success. Tossed millions of light-years from home. That almost sounds like the plot of a holoshow on the nets.”

“So not that well, then?” Kravitz stared at him.

“How does anyone do well with the idea of never seeing home again, Rabbi?” David sucked in a breath. “It’s more than that. I don’t understand why God would allow us to be carried into a different galaxy like this.”

“Because it’s not fair?”

“No,” David snapped. “Everyone on this ship has spent their entire adult lives fighting. Twenty years for me, Rabbi. I am weary of getting up every morning, saying my prayers, asking Hashem to give us peace, and then killing people. Depending on the day, in large numbers.”

“We’ve had this discussion,” Kravitz replied gently. “It is not a sin to kill in war, nor is it murder. As a Jew who studied for the rabbinate himself, you know this.”

“I do. I also know that not having to take a life because the war is over is possibly the best feeling I’ve had. I am weary, Rabbi. Most of us are. The prospect of peace, even if we had to keep one eye open at night and constantly patrol our borders while standing up to League aggression in the neutral planets… was one I much looked forward to.”

Kravitz sat back. “Do you believe Hashem gave us victory?”

“You have to ask?”

“Yes.”

For a moment, David flashed back to the Third Battle of Canaan, when hundreds of Coalition Defense Force and Saurian Royal Navy warships supported by neutrals and civilians in up-gunned freighters had held the line. “I’ll never forget how that Leaguer supply ship lost thruster control and plowed into the side of Admiral Seville’s flagship. In that moment, I knew Hashem was fighting for us.”

“So you see the hand of God in that instance but not in this?”

“I’m more chalking this up to poor luck, Rabbi.”

“We survived a journey of more than four million light-years through a malfunctioning Lawrence drive. Now, I am but a simple man of the cloth, but…” Kravitz chuckled. “Does that not seem a bit miraculous to you?”

“One event was unlikely and extraordinarily positive. The other, while unlikely, is not.”

“Aaaah.” Kravitz tsked. “So you have to see why it's positive for a miracle to have occurred. Now it makes sense. If you can’t see the benefit, then it’s just a highly improbable event.”

“Dr. Hayworth told me repeatedly that the events of our final battle with the League were simply proof that improbable events do occur in the universe.” The realization of what David was saying took him by surprise.

“I can see from the light bulb that appeared above your head just now that you understand what I’m trying to get across,” Kravitz replied with a grin.

David felt sheepish. The rabbi had a way of getting his point across in a simple yet effective method. And it usually stings a bit when I realize what I missed. “Okay. Even if I accept the idea that it was a miracle for us to survive the transit, I still have no idea what our purpose is here. If we even have one. I’ve got to get these people home, Rabbi. That’s my job now.”

“Perhaps. Or perhaps Hashem has something else in mind.”

“In that case, Rabbi, I wish He’d let us know.”

“Careful what you wish for,” Kravitz replied with a snicker. “Try to come back for evening prayers, yes?”

“Alwa—”

David’s handcomm crackled. “Hanson to Cohen.”

Raising his eyebrows, David lifted it to his lips. “Go ahead, Major.”

“Sir, we’ve made a breakthrough. Dr. Hayworth would like to brief everyone as soon as possible.”

“Good news, in that case. Main conference room, deck one, thirty minutes. Assemble the entire senior staff as well as Colonels Amir and Demood. Cohen out.”

“Yes, sir. See you soon, sir.” Hanson sounded almost hyper.

“It would appear you might be getting some of that clarification you’re craving sooner than expected,” Kravitz remarked.

“So it would.” David stood and took off his tallit gadol and tefillin. “I’d better head up there, Rabbi. Thank you for talking to me. As always, it helps to let some of my burdens go.”

Kravitz squeezed his shoulder. “Walk with Hashem.”

David inclined his head in reply before turning on his heel and exiting the synagogue. He removed the kippah and stopped at his stateroom to drop off the religious items before heading for the gravlift with a spring in his step.

Along the way, David reflected on Rabbi Kravitz's faith. Indeed, mine should be just as strong because I was there when I believed that God intervened for us. So why the questions?

He had no answers, only a resolve to meditate on the question later when time and his duties permitted.

Since their arrival in Sextans B, David had been having trouble sleeping. Given the dark circles and puffiness under everyone else's eyes in the conference room, he suspected that condition extended to the entire senior staff, if not the whole crew.

As David pushed open the hatch, Master Chief Tinetariro jumped out of her seat and came to attention. “General on deck!”

“As you were,” David said as the rest of them rose. “Take your seats, folks. I’m sure we’re all as excited to hear what Dr. Hayworth has uncovered as I am.” While an entire group of people was helping the scientist, David had learned to let him take the limelight and give his ego a pass.

Hayworth cleared his throat as he sat down. “It was a group effort,” he said with a sidelong glance at Merriweather.

Long ago, David had figured out she had the doctor wrapped around her finger, though he didn't quite understand why. “I’m glad to hear it. Lieutenant Taylor, do we have the fleet link with all escorts engaged?”

“Yes, sir. All senior officers are connected, and we’re live for two-way communication,” Taylor replied.

Vidlinks from each vessel were displayed along the far wall for all six Ajax-class destroyers and the repair vessel the CSV Salinan.

“I won’t bore you all with the scientific details,” Hayworth replied. “Suffice it to say the wormhole opened by our Lawrence drive was interfered with by negative energy. I can’t explain the exact how or why, but the interplay between positively charged particles and exotic matter from the energy stream hypercharged our transit.”

David narrowed his eyes. “That’s over my head, Doctor. How do we replicate it?”

Hayworth chuckled. “We don’t. To us, negative energy is a hypothesis that we can’t test or prove. This effect was either naturally occurring or made by a species with technology far greater than ours. I believe we’re in luck, though. Arthur and I got a bearing and declination on the source.”

“Would that have something to do with all the neutron-beam test fires last night?”

“Yes, sir,” Hanson interjected. “We didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up until we had concrete news.”

“Probably for the best.”

“The trail leads to a planet in a solar system with a G-type main-sequence star,” Hayworth continued with a harrumph. “Given the exact intersection of the energy resonance to that world, I am reasonably certain it’s the origin of the effect.”

David’s mind swam with possibilities. This points more toward a deliberate act that could be reversed. He was about to interject a question when the doctor continued.

“We completed a long-range sensor sweep of the solar system and can confidently say that this world is in the habitable zone and has the precursors for life, including a large gas giant and an asteroid belt.”

“It can’t be that easy,” Ruth blurted out.

“Even if life exists on this planet, and it has the technology to recreate the effect, we don’t know if they’d be willing to help us.” David set his jaw. “Colonel Amir, what’s the status of our stealth recon fighters?”

The Lion’s wing commander leaned forward. He and David knew each other from a previous posting on the CSV Audacious and had served together for years. Amir was on the short side of human males at 1.7 meters, a common occurrence among fighter pilots, as the cockpits were cramped and not designed for the tall or large. “Ready for all flight modes, sir, including short-range Lawrence drive jumps.”

“Prepare for a recon mission to the outskirts of the system Dr. Hayworth identified. You’ll jump in outside the orbit of its outermost planet and gather intelligence.”

“Are you serious, General?” Hayworth snapped.

“I don’t give orders when I’m not, Doctor,” David replied. “If you have a point, make it.”

“There are procedures for first contact. Showing up on an alien civilization's doorstep with stealthed military vessels isn’t one of them.”

“And jumping a battleship into orbit is?” David shot back. “I’m well aware of our regulations for this situation, Doctor. They all boil down to: get CDF command to send a specialized team from the Far Survey Corps. We don’t have access to them.”

Hayworth snorted. “You need to think like a scientist, not the military.”

It took a moment for David to stuff down the retort that came to mind. “We’re all going to do the best we can in this situation, Doctor. If you have a better idea, I’m all ears.”

“From a cultural perspective, you’d be better off jumping in at the solar system's edge and trying to contact them. Most cultures in the Sagittarius Arm, at any rate, would view that in a less threatening manner than attempting to spy on them.”

David was smart enough to know when he was getting good advice. “If they’ve got the tech to pull us four million light-years off course, they’d probably see through our stealth coatings anyway. Good call.”

Hayworth at least had the good sense not to rub it in. “I believe that will be more fruitful, General. Thank you.”

“Any other ideas?”

“Only that I wish we had a linguist or two aboard.”

“Don’t we all.” David flashed a thin smile.

“General, if I may,” Lieutenant Colonel Savchenko interjected. He commanded the CSV Margaret Thatcher, an Ajax-class destroyer, block II. It had the latest and greatest technological advancements and integrated Saurian magnetic cannons. The tech edge was one of the reasons the ship was the lead escort for their battlegroup.

“Of course, Colonel. Always glad to hear my combatant commanders' input.”

“Let one of the destroyers scout ahead, sir. I’ll volunteer to make it easy. That way, if we’re dealing with a hostile species, you don’t have to risk the Lion. She’s far more valuable.”

The courage displayed by Savchenko moved David. “While I respect and appreciate the offer, no. We’re going together. I cannot believe a species with the power this one has, if indeed they do, would pull us all this way just to destroy us. If that was their objective, we’d already be dead.”

“I agree, General,” Hayworth said as the conversation hit a lull. “It would’ve been easy to destabilize our wormhole with negative energy.”

Ruth grinned. “I thought you said negative energy was some super-difficult-to-reproduce science stuff.”

Hayworth glowered at her. “If one can control such power, it would be simpler to destroy than do what they did. That should be obvious.”

Doc’s in a good mood today. “I think we know what needs to happen here. Any saved rounds, people?”

Taylor leaned forward. “Sir, I’ve got something, if I may.”

“Go ahead, Lieutenant.”

“One of the guys from our intel shop, Second Lieutenant Nathanael Rodell, has a minor in linguistics. It’s a passion of his. Not quite a trained astrolinguist, but…”

A butter bars. Probably his first space duty too. “I see. Better than nothing, right?”

“Exactly, sir.”

“Get him up to speed, and pull him in to support our communication efforts with the aliens.”

“Rodell wanted me to get permission for him to put together a first-contact message based on research he’s done in our library computer system.”

“By all means. Anyone else?”

Silence was the only reply.

“In that case, Colonel Amir… have your recon birds ready, because we’ll nose around the system if we don’t detect superior intelligent life. And, Colonel Savchenko, once we figure out what’s going on, I want you and the rest of our escort COs to join my senior staff and me on the Lion of Judah for a meal.”

“Looking forward to it, sir,” Savchenko replied.

“Okay, let’s get to it. I want to be jumping into the identified system no later than oh-nine-hundred hours tomorrow.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” nearly everyone chorused.

“Dismissed.”

5

Few things delighted Salena Bo’hai more than the simple act of eating her evening meal. When one was thousands of mina away from any sign of civilization and only had one other person for company, small things became the highlight of one’s life. Her plate of fresh greens and anktar roots was filling, and she munched on it happily.

“I can’t believe you eat that,” Niall Hidah said as he stared at a small cooking appliance. He was the other person present at the observatory during their cycle together.

“It is better than kneaded grains with hokar fungus diced on top.” Bo’hai smiled. “But such is what we get for this line of work.”

They were volunteers with Interstellar Life Search, an organization dedicated to finding intelligent alien life in the universe. All the rai the institute held went to pay for the upkeep of the observatory, a small dome near the north magnetic pole of their planet. So for one season out of the year, Bo’hai spent her days staring at readouts of background noise from the cosmos.

Hidah specialized in astronomy and astrophysics. After being with the program for almost a decade, he looked every bit the part of a frumpy researcher, intent solely on his field of study. He took a bite of the grain slice and spoke after chewing. “At least this has some flavor to it. Anktar barely registers as edible.”

“It tastes good to me.”

Bo’hai served as an assistant radio telescope operator, but her actual area of expertise was linguistics. She hoped to be there someday when the project received a transmission from a distant world. In the past thirty rotations, they’d had signals that some believed to be of an extra-solar origin, but none had panned out.

“I’ll take your word for it.” He chuckled. “See anything interesting on the overnight feed from the secondary array?”

“No.” She took another bite of roots. “Though the background music of the universe is beautiful by itself.”

Hidah shook his head. “You haven’t done this long enough.”

“Only my third trip.”

“See what you think after ten.”

Bo’hai set her empty plate down. “I think I’m going to take a walk outside.”

“Do you have a portable thermal heater?”

“No, only a heavy coat and long underwear,” Bo’hai replied. “It’s enough.”

“For you but not for me.” Hidah stuffed the last of the grain slice into his mouth. “I suppose I’ll start reviewing the afternoon’s recordings. See if there’s anything we missed.”

He’s cranky again. She turned to go.

“What’s this?” Hidah asked as a light flashed on one of the many computer panels in the control center. “Hm. Signal strength is far higher than it should be.”

Bo’hai pivoted and walked to where he sat and stared over his shoulder. “Probably an object in orbit or another spy satellite from Zalvot.”

“No. The declination’s not right. Too far above the ecliptic plane.” Hidah toggled a switch, and suddenly, a series of sounds filled the room.

“Is that the signal?” Bo’hai asked.

“Yes.”

Her jaw dropped. The sound was unique, with melodic tones she’d never heard before. Despite not being any language Bo’hai recognized, it seemed to have qualities of intelligent communication to it. “Where is that coming from?”

Hidah fiddled with the controls and adjusted the radio telescope. “I’ve got it narrowed down, but it’ll take a few minutes to lock in.”

The message—if it was one—continued, and Bo’hai thought she heard similar sounds repeating. “That is unlike any naturally occurring sound I’ve ever heard.”

“Which is because it's not natural. The wavelength is above anything we’ve observed in the background of space.” A panel beeped. “Got it. Redirecting an optical telescope toward the coordinates.”

“You can do that?”

“No, but I look at it like this… if this is what I think it is—proof of intelligent life—we’ll be famous. If not, I get to go home to a warmer climate. Either way is a successful outcome.”

Bo’hai giggled and clicked her tongue.

“Visual coming up now.”

A monitor to their left snapped on, going from black to a vibrant image of the night sky, with an unusual feature in its middle. A large metallic object with multiple sharp edges and two giant ramps that led out from its interior stared back at them. Designs of some sort were written on two of the wings, and shapes the likes of which no one from their planet had ever drawn were stenciled under the logo.

Hidah and Bo’hai exchanged glances, even as he seemed to shake.

“That… That is not something constructed by us. Or Zalvot.” He put a hand over his mouth.

“What do we do if we find intelligent life?”

“There’s a manual over here.”

Bo’hai walked to the cabinet he’d indicated and flipped through the contents before pulling out a dusty binder. “This?”

“Yes.”

She opened it to the first page. “There’s a connection address here. It looks governmental.”

“Probably is. By the Maker, this is… I neeever.” Hidah took a deep breath and seemingly tried to calm himself. “I didn’t think we’d find life out there.”

The odds were so astronomical that Bo’hai found it astounding that she was present for such a world-shaking event. Perhaps it is the Maker’s will. “Shall we call them?”

“Yes.”

It took half an hour to connect to someone of high-enough authority that they weren’t brushed off as pulling a prank or a practical joke. Events raced ahead afterward.

In the whirlwind that followed alerting the government to the discovery of alien life in their solar system, Bo’hai’s head spun. First, they’d been debriefed by military officers and intelligence officials and given lie detector tests, and their equipment was ripped apart. Not until military imaging systems positively located the identical spacecraft they’d seen and recorded the same sounds coming from it did the government seem to believe them. She and Hidah had then been whisked away to the capital government complex.

The walls of the underground command center were gray and drab. The sort of place no citizen wants to find themselves in unless it's of their own accord. For perhaps the first time in her life, Bo’hai felt genuine fear coupled with dread. Will they kill us to keep the secret?

When the doors at the end of a long corridor opened to reveal a massive set of monitors and dozens of military officers and civilians in sharp suits, Bo’hai’s fear melted away. It dissipated even more after she realized one of them was none other than the leader of their world, Mishka Vog’t, the zupan.

“Mr. Hidah, Ms. Bo’hai, thank you for joining us,” Vog’t said with the barest hint of a smile. She had been elected six years prior to rule over their world.

Hidah appeared as if he would urinate in his pants at any moment and said nothing.

“Thank you, Zupan Vog’t.” Bo’hai stepped forward and bowed slightly, as was their custom. “How may we serve?”

“When I asked the armed forces to give me the best and brightest to study this… object, they didn’t have much to offer,” Vog’t replied with a glance at one of the higher-ranking officers. “I asked the two of you to be brought here to provide analysis. We’re about to get started. Please, join us.”

Bo’hai felt like she were in a dream or a trance. Is the zupan asking me to guide her? She was barely twenty-six rotations old and had limited practical experience. “We will serve as best as we can.” Somehow, her voice came through strong and sure.

The group moved to a table off to one side of the room, and everyone stood around it. Vog’t gestured to one of the officers. “Where is the object now?”

A screen on the wall came alive with an image of their solar system and the intruder hanging around its edge. An inset picture showed a real-time feed from a space-based telescope. Somehow, it appeared larger and more foreboding than when Bo’hai had seen it for the first time.

“It’s getting closer,” a uniformed officer announced.

Bo’hai wondered what his rank was, as she wasn’t well versed in the ways of the military. Whoever he was, the man had many adornments on his chest. “There appear to be other… things with it.”

“Good eye,” the officer replied. “We count eight total objects. One large, six small and identical to one another, and one that’s smaller than all the others.”

“And do we have any indication as to where they’re from?” Vog’t asked.

Several uniformed officers exchanged glances before a different one spoke. “We haven’t ruled out the Zavolt yet.”

What? Bo’hai nearly erupted as the military people kept talking. During a period of crosstalk, she stepped forward and manipulated the viewer before clearing her throat. “Excuse me.”

Everyone stared at her in amazement, except the zupan, who inclined her head. “Yes?”

“Those spaceships have writing on them.” Bo’hai touched a control, and the blocky script came into focus. “Does that look like anything we or the others would draw?” She avoided calling the Zavolts heretics, which was the usual insult for them. Hatred between the third and fourth planets in their solar system ran deep.

“We thought they might be something to throw us off,” an older male with even more pieces of brass on his chest replied. “The lines look random.”

“No, they’re not.” Bo’hai adjusted the controls again. “See? There’s a similar word on each one. Then a word or several beyond it.” The viewer froze on CSV. “While the language is nothing we’re familiar with, it is obviously something from a higher intelligence.”

“It could be the prelude to an invasion,” Vog’t said. “If they are from another world.”

“If a species can travel across the stars, why would they want to invade us?” someone at the back of the room asked.

“Maybe we have something they want,” the officer replied.

Several people locked eyes.

“Perhaps.” Vog’t crossed her arms. “Yet we cannot act rashly. I don’t believe this is the Zavolt. If they had access to space-faring vessels like that… we’d all be dead right now.”

Sad but true. “There’s also the matter of the broadcasts the object is making.”

“They sound like random background noise.”

Bo’hai affixed the military man with a withering gaze. “There are clear patterns to it. It’s a language.”

“You seem confident of this,” Vog’t observed.

“I have spent my life studying the spoken and written word.” Bo’hai wasn’t sure what had gotten into her, only that her people were balanced on a unique moment in history. “I’d stake everything I have, including my life, on that transmission being an alien language, before the Maker.”

Vog’t pursed her lips. “I’m inclined to agree, gentlemen. Do any of you have a differing opinion backed up by facts?”

Silence was the only reply.

“Very well. Then we need to think about making contact with them, whoever they are.”

“We’re not reading a response to our communications attempts,” the officer with the most chest brass replied.

Bo’hai decided he must be in charge and addressed him. “It’s likely they don’t recognize our attempts for what they are, especially given how advanced they must be.”

He regarded her for a moment. “The linguist is probably right.” His words had a decided undercurrent of disrespect. “We should send out our fleet to escort them in or defend ourselves if needed.”

“It would take months to traverse the system,” Vog’t replied. “And that’s the last time I want to hear of a military solution to this. I’m not starting a war with extrasolar aliens.”

“You may not have a choice in the matter, Zupan. If they came here to make war on us, we’ll have to fight.”

Vog’t sighed. “Perhaps. But we should all pray to the Maker that doesn’t happen. Warm up all our spacecraft. Hold until they’re within a day’s journey.”

“Yes, Zupan,” the military man replied. “It shall be done.”

“As for you,” Vog’t continued, “prepare to join the reception fleet.”

It took Bo’hai a few seconds to process that the zupan had spoken to her directly. “You wish me to go with them?”

“You’re the closest thing to an expert we have,” Vog’t replied with a small smile. “I need you there.”

At that moment, Bo’hai wanted to turn and run. Going into space was something she’d never wanted to do, considered, or even had as an option. Something deep within spoke to her, however. This is my duty. She marshaled the strongest expression she could to her face. “Then by the Maker, I will be there.”

Vog’t motioned to one of her aides. “Get her checked out and cleared for flight.”

“But—”

“There are no buts, War Leader. Simply put, we must make peaceful contact with these beings. See to it that everything is done.”

“Yes, Zupan.”

As Bo’hai and Hidah were ushered out, he finally spoke. “Where did that come from?”

She glanced at him. “What?”

“You’re never one to cause a ripple.”

“It’s not every day that people from other worlds visit us,” Bo’hai replied, as if that explained everything.

6

CSV Lion of Judah

In Orbit of SB-F30102 VII

17 December, 2463

Anticipation radiated throughout the Lion’s bridge as the vessel, along with her battlegroup, edged farther into the solar system identified as the probable origin of the exotic matter that had brought them to Sextans B. Initial scans hadn’t turned up much in the way of technology, and so they went with plan B: stealth recon fighters from their space-aviation wing had conducted several close passes of the planets making up the system. To David’s surprise, not one but two worlds bore intelligent life.

“Spectrographic analysis confirms oxygen and nitrogen atmospheric mix,” Hayworth called out.

Another change to the normal function of the Lion’s control nexus, David had ordered the doctor to man a bridge station for real-time science observations.

Despite the many benefits of having Hayworth around, it still felt odd to have a civilian in the middle of a finely tuned military operation. Then again, we’re far beyond the boundaries of CDF standard operating procedures. “At what levels, Doctor?” David asked.

“Within human tolerance,” Hayworth replied. “However, there’s minimal orbital infrastructure.”

David glanced at Taylor. “Comms, get me Colonel Amir.”

“Aye, aye, sir.” A few moments later, Taylor’s voice rang out again. “I have him tied in, sir. Audio only.”

“Amir, can you hear me?”

“Yes, General. What can we do for you?”

“Our sensors aren’t picking much up in the way of advanced technology in orbit around either inhabited planet. You guys seeing anything we’re not?”

“No, sir. A few module-based space vessels that I doubt have a crew of more than thirty and simple space stations that have no obvious military capabilities.”

“They’re roughly three centuries behind us,” Hayworth interjected. “I fail to see how these beings could’ve generated the power required to create the wormhole that brought us here.”

“Keep searching, Colonel.”

“Yes, sir.”

As the speaker turned off with a click, David turned to the doctor. “Thinking outside the box here, but what if they’re camouflaging it on purpose?”

“Possible. Not probable. An alien species of the technology level required would be so much more powerful than us that it would be akin to comparing an ant to a primate.”

David shrugged. “If anything, the universe has taught me anything’s possible.” He fought to keep his heart from falling into despair. Whatever the aliens were, it didn’t seem like they were the answer to getting home.

“Let us remember this world is on the direct path of the energy pattern,” Aibek rumbled. “That is not a coincidence.”

“I concur.”

“Conn, TAO,” Ruth interrupted. “New contacts around SB-F30102 three. Radiologics detected.”

“Reactors or warheads, Lieutenant?”

“Best guess, fission or fusion missiles, sir. This stuff is so far behind us that I’m having a hard time getting solid readings. The computer doesn’t recognize it.” Ruth glanced over her shoulder with a grin. “Give me a few minutes.”

David nodded. “That sounds like orbital defenses to me.” He furrowed his brow. “If this species has defensive weapons systems, it suggests they’re aware of other intelligent life in the universe.”

“You’re assuming far too much.” Hayworth cleared his throat. “They could easily be pointed at the other inhabited planet.”

The doctor’s more pessimistic take could be right, David conceded, but he chose to believe the cup was half full. We need something positive here, and finding life on this planet is a good step in the right direction. Kicking around the various paths forward, David decided he needed more information. “TAO, would the weapons systems you’ve detected constitute a threat to any vessels in our battlegroup?”

“Negative, sir. I suspect a single flight of four Phantoms could erase everything in orbit without breaking a sweat.”

David chuckled. “That’s what I thought.” He turned to Aibek. “If we had a first-contact team on board, I’d let them do their work and wait a few weeks before interacting.”

“We do not have such a group on this vessel.”

“Exactly. Which is why we’re going to head in system and see if we can get their attention.”

“You can’t do that!” Hayworth thundered as he clumsily disengaged his chair harness and jumped up. “This ship is likely more powerful than anything they’ve ever seen. You could start a panic or a war!”

“Doctor,” David began and stared him down. “First, yes, I can. While the Lion of Judah showing up in orbit might be a shock—I’ll give you that—it will not start a war because we won’t respond, even if someone shot at us. We have no reason to because these aliens aren’t a threat. At least, not that we can tell so far.”

Hayworth stabbed his finger toward David. “This is the problem with you military types. You think you can control everything. We’re dealing with the unknown and not something you can solve with a few well-timed explosions.”

David pushed out his chair and stood, glaring at Hayworth. “Doctor, listen to me very carefully. You have a job to do. Do it, and keep your opinions to yourself. If you want to discuss our tactics and strategy, we’ll do it in my day cabin after making contact. Do I make myself clear?”

A pregnant pause followed as Hayworth’s face contorted. “Yes.”

“Take your station.” When he didn’t move after two seconds, David barked, “Now.” He was willing to entertain the doctor’s opinions in private or a discussion setting, but no one would question who was in charge on the bridge of the Lion. To allow such a thing to stand would invite poor discipline and performance out of the crew.

Hayworth stalked off without another word.

“Communications, do you have the recording Lieutenant Rodell made for first contact ready to go?”

“Yes, sir,” Taylor replied.

David turned toward him as he strode back to the CO’s chair. “Get Rodell up here, and have him process transmission intercepts as we head toward the closest populated world.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

“Jumping out of an artificial wormhole fifty thousand kilometers from their planet might cause alarm, as Dr. Hayworth said,” Aibek hissed quietly.

“That’s a good point,” David replied. “If we jump in at their secondary asteroid belt, they’ll see us coming for a good five or six hours before we achieve orbit. We could go in from here, but I don’t want to spend days crossing a large solar system.”

“What you should do, General, is send a shuttle. That would come off as far less threatening.” Hayworth’s voice carried across the bridge, causing many enlisted ratings to turn to him.

“For the last time, this isn’t the Terran Coalition Far Survey Corps, nor is this a science vessel, Doctor,” David snapped. He felt himself close to verbally ripping the man’s head off. “And since you put it out there, what if this is a warrior culture? If we send something unarmed, they could view it as an insult, and we’d never get anywhere. Since we’re playing the what-if game, it’s also possible this vessel could get jumped at any point by hostile aliens of a different species than these.”

Silence broke out as Hayworth stared him down but didn’t reply.

David made a mental note to deal with him later. I don’t have time for this crap now. “Navigation, plot a Lawrence drive jump for the other side of the asteroid belt, inside the orbit of the fourth planet. Put us five million kilometers away from it.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

The trip through the wormhole was uneventful, especially compared to the transit that had gotten them to Sextans B. After emerging and scanning the surrounding area, the Lion proceeded toward the fourth planet at sublight speed. In the hours it took to close the distance, Rodell reported to the bridge and took up a duty station next to Taylor.

David, meanwhile, spent the time deep in thought—exchanging few words with Aibek or the rest of the senior officers. The Far Survey Corps lives for meeting a new alien species. To me, it’s a foreign idea and something I’ve never done throughout my twenty-year career. He wondered what they might be like, as there were many types of intelligent beings in the Sagittarius arm, where Canaan—the home world of the Terran Coalition—was located.

The foray into pondering exploration of the unknown was something David hadn’t had the luxury of as a career military officer. While the Terran Coalition used to expend plenty of resources on space exploration, that had come to a grinding halt during the war with the League of Sol. It’ll probably kick up again with the war over. I wonder… Had I served during peacetime, would I have wanted to see what was beyond the next solar system? The next star? It dawned on him that absent the war, he would probably have ended up as a rabbi. Take every other factor out, and that was what I wanted to do from a young age. Dad’s death just cemented it. But if he hadn’t perished in the war, who knows where I would’ve ended up?

As the planet grew closer and closer, anticipation built, and David shifted his mind from introspection to focusing on what came next. “Communications, any response to our message?”

“Not yet, sir.”

“Lieutenant Rodell, any progress translating their language?”

“I think I figured out what they use for I, sir,” he answered. “But I don’t know for sure. This language is far different from ours. They make sounds differently, and it involves clicks that, frankly, I’m not sure a human could replicate.”

“Keep working it, Lieutenant.” I’ve tossed this kid into the deep end. David suppressed a grin, remembering all the times he had been in similar situations. He’ll be fine. Just needs to get some confidence.

“A Saurian would establish orbit and demonstrate our strength by destroying an uninhabited portion of their world,” Aibek said as he stared at the sensor readout.

David turned. “It’s a wonder you guys made it out of the stone age.”

“I jest!” Aibek laughed, showing off both rows of teeth. The big Saurian had a decidedly dry sensor of humor.

“Uh-huh,” David replied. “Still got those mice down in your quarters?”

“Only as pets.” For years after becoming the Lion of Judah’s XO, through the Saurian and Terran officer exchange program, Aibek had maintained a cage of small white mice in his quarters. He’d also gone out of his way to convince everyone aboard they were his snack of choice.

“Conn, Communications,” Taylor interjected. “I think we’re getting a response.”

“Video or audio?”

“Both, sir, but the video is broadcasting from primitive equipment, and it’s on a frequency we don’t use. Give me a few minutes to clean it up.”

“Put the audio on speakers.” David gripped the chair’s armrests.

A series of noises that could only be described as screeching followed by clicks and more screeching poured through the bridge’s communication system. It sounded like nails raking across a chalkboard and brought visible pain to many of the enlisted ratings.

David stood and faced Rodell. “Did you get any of that, Lieutenant?”

“Not really, sir. Sorry.”

“What else can we try?”

“Uh, pictograms, sir? Boiled down to stick figures if we have to, showing things that make cultural sense to us.”

“But might not to them.”

“That’s the risk, sir,” Rodell replied.

David glanced at Taylor. “Got anything to add?”

“Negative, sir. I’m a cryptologist, not a linguist.”

“Do it, Mr. Rodell,” David replied, cracking a grin at Taylor’s quip.

“Aye, aye, sir.”

As David slid back into his seat, Ruth called out, “Conn, TAO. Aspect change, new contacts at extreme range, bearing zero-zero-zero, designated Sierra Twelve through Fifteen.”

“Put the detail scan on my viewer, Captain.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

The monitor above David’s head came to life with a wireframe depiction of the vessels on approach. As the seconds ticked by, the advanced computer system filled in the blanks with direct image observations and AI-generated approximations of what the ships should look like. They were unlike anything David had seen before—small pods connected by what looked like umbilical tubes large enough for a human to pass through, with a cylinder in the middle that engines and pods of an unknown type were attached to.

“Threat assessment, TAO?”

Ruth turned her head around. “Minimal, sir. I’m getting some radiologics off those ships, probably from fission warheads, but nothing that would present a danger to the Lion. The one oddity is the rate of closure. These things ought to have chemical-based engines, based on the tech level we’re seeing. But unless they have access to materials we’re not aware of, they’re going far too fast for any known standard-fuel rocket motor.”

“Sir, I realize it's out of protocol, but could I see a close-up scan of the contact’s engines?” Hammond interjected.

David’s gaze snapped to her, and he felt surprised at the comment. “If you’ve got something to add, by all means, Lieutenant.”

Several seconds ticked by before Hammond nodded energetically. “They’re using a nuclear thermal rocket.”

“In English, Lieutenant.”

“Uh, sorry, sir. We never deployed them. The old Freedom sleepers used solar sails and rudimentary ion drives. But I remember reading about this stuff in school. Using an old-school fission reactor to generate thrust by passing a liquid through it and shooting that out of nozzles, just like a chemical propellant.”

Ruth asked, “Would that account for the like five-times-faster speeds I’m seeing here?”

“Yes. That’s about the right thrust vector.”

“They do not pose a threat,” Aibek rumbled. “That much is obvious.”

“Agreed.” David’s gaze went back to the tactical plot. “Navigation, slow us to half. Maintain course. Lieutenant Rodell, now would be a good time for those pictograms.”

“Yes, sir. Sending something now.”

David sat back, staring out of the windows. Whoever you are, please accept our intentions as peaceful and treat us the same. Above all, he hoped for a way to send his battlegroup and the thirteen thousand soldiers on all eight ships home—where they belonged.

7

Salena Bo’hai had never set foot in outer space before, nor had she been on a military installation or shuttled into orbit on a Zeivlot Space Support craft. All those things had happened in the last eighteen hours, and she felt unsettled in a way she never had before. It didn’t help that the only gravity the spaceship she was on was from its engines. She’d thrown up repeatedly until there was nothing left in her stomach. Someone should’ve told me not to eat before this. But they probably had bigger things to worry about.

“How’s it going back there?” Rong, the executive officer of the Talif, asked her. The craft was one of several cell-based space ships the Zeivlots had. They were useful for moving between the two moons in orbit of their planet and not much else.

“Better now that I’m not messing up your instruments,” Bo’hai replied with a weak smile.

Rong chuckled. They were all strapped into their seats, and with the engines firing at maximum thrust, the sensation of weightlessness had abated—for the moment. “As long as you can talk to these… whatever they are.”

Bo’hai hadn’t caught his first name, only the surname printed on his uniform.

“We’re receiving audio from the incoming vessel!” another officer halfway across the cockpit shouted.

“Route it to the linguist,” Cetin, the commanding officer, barked. Unlike the XO, he’d been stern and unyielding the entire trip out to meet the alien ship.

It only took Bo’hai a few moments to play the transmission back on her console before shaking her head. “It’s no use. I have no frame of reference for what they’re saying. Could you bring up video communication?”

“We’re trying, but our hardware doesn't accept the wavelength they seem to be transmitting on. Working on a jury-rigged solution,” the same officer replied.

Bo’hai licked her lips. “Commander, please allow me to transmit video images. I will attempt to send pictograms explaining that we are only interested in nonviolent communication.”

“Do it, but if they close within weapons range of our home, I will use whatever means are required to defend Zeivlot.” Cetin set his jaw, and his tone left no illusions about his seriousness.

Fear swirled about Bo’hai’s mind. She had sensed the commander viewed the extra-solar lifeforms as hostile, but every comment he made reinforced that and made her think that Cetin was only a moment away from a severe miscalculation. The best way for me to help is to establish communications.

Bo’hai tapped away at her viewscreen, composing what she thought was the best way via pictogram to communicate that they came in peace and wished only to coexist. Maker, help us all.

“Time to intercept?” Cetin called out.

“Twenty-five units, Commander.”

“Good. Maintain forward thrust.”

Bo’hai finished her drawing and glanced toward the front of the eight-person cockpit. “I have a series of visual images to transmit, Commander.”

“You may proceed.”

“Conn, Communications, I’m getting static images from Sierra Fourteen, sir. We’re still working on a video link over here.” Taylor shook his head. “I can’t believe how old this tech they're using is. It’s like smoke signals.”

Chuckles swept the bridge, and David figured everyone was glad for a mild release of tension. He certainly was. “Anything, Mr. Rodell?”

After a pause, he replied, “Uh, sir, they’re highly expressive. I don’t know what whoever drew this is trying to say. But that kind of tracks.”

David stood and strode to the comms station. “Dumb it down for me.”

Rodell popped a tilting monitor up and gestured to the drawing on the screen. “Can you make heads or tails of that, sir?”

Staring at the mash of lines, shapes, and patterns, David had no idea what any of it meant. Does it mean anything at all? “These guys could be sending us information on how to place bets at their biggest gambling establishment.” He cracked a grin. “But this looks like abstract art almost.”

“Exactly. As I said, though, it tracks. We’re dealing with an entirely alien culture in a different galaxy. Who knows what is normal to them.”

“Keep trying.”

“Conn, TAO. Sierra contacts continue to close. Estimate fifteen minutes to our weapons range.”

“Speculation on how close they’d need to be to launch missiles?” David asked as he turned back to the front of the bridge.

“That would depend on whether they’ve miniaturized their nuclear-thermal-rocket capability, sir. If so, roughly twenty minutes.”

David furrowed his brow as he sat in the CO’s chair. They’ve got guts. I’ll give them that. Not sure I’d blindly fly out to meet a 1.2-kilometer-long alien spaceship in what they’re in. Well, if I was defending my home, I would. “Navigation, reduce thrust to one quarter.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” Hammond replied.

“TAO, time to weapons range?”

“Twenty-five minutes, sir.”

“You’re on the clock, Mr. Rodell,” David said. “No pressure.”

He flashed a weak smile. “Yes, sir.”

As the range crept closer to the alien vessels, David bounced around going to general quarters and activating the Lion’s defense systems. He leaned closer to Aibek and said quietly, “In a first-contact situation, how would the Saurian Royal Navy handle this?”

“Warning shots from one warrior to another,” Aibek replied in a slight hiss. “We do not… handle this as a human does.”

“I can’t screw this up.”

Aibek raised a scale over one eye. “Might I suggest that our deflectors are likely to repel any weapon they possess?”

David nodded. “I was thinking the same thing. The downside is that whoever’s over there will probably get an energy spike on whatever they use for sensors and ought to see the EM signature from our shield generators.”

“A Saurian would say that they would see our strength and know we do not wish them harm.”

“And a human would probably think it’s a prelude to attack.”

“Yes, as much as we may be alike, we are also vastly different.”

“Took the words right out of my mouth.”

“Letting our guard down does not seem prudent.”

He’s right, of course. In the end, it’s more about protecting my crew and this ship. David set his jaw. “Communications, tie 1MC in to my chair.”

“Tied in, sir.”

David spoke into the mic. “Attention, all hands. This is General Cohen. General quarters. General quarters. Set condition one throughout the ship. All hands, man your battle stations. I say again, man your battle stations. This is not a drill.” He turned his attention toward Ruth. “TAO, raise shields, and charge the energy-weapons capacitor by only enough to power the point-defense grid.”

“Condition one set throughout the ship,” Ruth replied as the bright lights on the bridge dimmed and turned blue. “Shields online. Charging the energy-weapons capacitor to fifteen percent.”

Staring at the tactical plot, David realized none of the alien vessels were altering course or slowing. Onward they plodded, straight at the battleship and her seven escorts.

“Communications, pass on to all ships that they are to assume weapons-safe status and will not fire unless I directly authorize it. This includes any situation in which they are fired upon first. Confirm receipt and acknowledgment of that order.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

“Then order Colonel Amir and his wingman back to home plate at max thrust. I’m not taking any chances here.” David pursed his lips. “Navigation, all stop.” Adonai, please let them see we come in peace. Give me wisdom, because I am out of my depth in more ways than I can imagine.

8

Bo’hai had never experienced sustained g-forces before. She felt as if she weighed a thousand units, and even basic motions took extreme concentration and effort. They’d accelerated as the alien vessel came closer, approaching what Commander Cetin had determined was a purple line not to be crossed.

“Any response from the unknown ship?” Cetin asked.

“Not yet, Commander.” Bo’hai checked her screen one more time and shook her head. “It is entirely possible they have no frame of reference for what we’re trying to communicate.”

“Or they’re here to invade our world and plunder what little we have left. For all we know, they could be Zavlots with new technology.”

While Bo’hai had heard such talk since they found the alien ship, it made less and less sense, the more they learned. How did this man get assigned to lead our first meeting? The more she thought about it, the more it seemed like she was the odd one out.

“Power surge detected in object one,” an officer in the back of the cockpit called out. “It’s off the electromagnetic power scale.”

Cetin cursed under his breath. “Weapons?”

A pregnant pause followed before the tactical officer answered, “I don’t believe so, sir. It appears to be an energy barrier around the vessel.” He sounded scared. “This is so far beyond what we’re capable of.”

“Not Zavlots,” Bo’hai interjected.

“I want a direct line to that ship,” Cetin snarled.

“They won’t understand us.”

“Did I ask you, linguist? This is a military vessel, and I wouldn’t expect a mere civilian to understand. Under no circumstances will I allow this thing, whatever it is, to approach our home.”

Bo’hai’s mouth dropped open, and she was momentarily at a loss for words. “Those… That’s not what the zupan wanted. She said we had to make peaceful contact!”

“Do you see the zupan here? No. This is my ship, and I make the difficult decisions. Now, mind your lane, or I’ll have you removed from the flight deck.”

As orders and replies echoed across the small area, the universe seemed to spin. After repeated calls for the incoming alien vessel to turn aside, Cetin cleared his throat. “Warm up our primary armament and lock that ship. Send to our sister craft.”

“You plan to shoot at them?” Bo’hai practically shrieked. Her brain went into overdrive. This is madness! “These beings, whatever they are, are so much more advanced than we can imagine. We’re like insects to them. Our weapons are useless!”

Cetin jerked his head around. “Shut up. You know nothing of what our best warheads can do. Whoever they are, the basic laws of science apply to them too.” He exhaled loudly. “And the Maker will help us.”

“The Maker says not to kill,” Bo’hai replied. “You can’t afford to start a war with them.”

“Weapons, arm the first pod, and prepare to fire.”

“Ready, sir,” the tactical officer called out.

“Fire.”

Bo’hai held on to the seat in front of her as the ship bucked from the backwash of six missiles launching into the void. She despaired for what was to come. Is this where I die?

“Conn, TAO, confirmed missile launch, Sierra Twelve through Fifteen. Six warheads each. They’ve acquired us and appear to be homing.”

“Time to impact?” David barked.

“Three minutes, sir.”

“TAO, redesignate Sierra Twelve through Fifteen as Master One through Four. Activate point defense in manual mode.”

“Contacts designated as Master One through Four, sir.”

The bridge became as silent as a tomb. David sensed a chill in the air, which was a physical impossibility—yet the feeling was there. “We didn’t come 4.4 million light-years to start a war by accident.” He set his jaw. “Destroy the incoming as it ranges, TAO.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” Ruth replied, tension in her voice.

It reminded David of their days fighting the League. I had hoped never to hear that tone again. “Exercise extreme caution. I don’t want any of the alien vessels hit by accident.” While Ruth would never make such a mistake, it might help to calm the enlisted ratings’ nerves.

“Aye, aye, sir.”

Over the next couple of minutes, the Lion’s point-defense weapons lashed out into the void. Missile after missile was destroyed with pinpoint accuracy, leaving only brief flashes of brilliant white light as the only evidence they’d existed in the first place. As the last one blinked out, Ruth turned her head. “All incoming eliminated, sir.”

“Communications, are we still getting transmissions from the alien vessel?”

“Yes, sir. They’re sending the same images over and over along with audio messages we can’t understand.”

David sprang from his seat and strode to where Taylor and Rodell sat. “Gentlemen, this isn’t happening fast enough.”

“I’m sorr—”

“Listen to me carefully, Lieutenant Rodell.” David held up his hand. “Right now, we’re in a situation that is rapidly escalating, and I’m running out of options. If this were a standard first contact, there’d be an entire team here. We would’ve studied their language for months and shown up being able to communicate properly.”

“I’m trying everything I know, sir.” The younger officer's voice cracked as beads of sweat dripped down his forehead.

“It’s not your primary job. We’re asking a lot of you. I’m asking a lot of you. But all of us are counting on you to help get us home by making peaceful contact with these aliens. Can you do it?”

Rodell sucked in a breath. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Focus, and try again. And think outside the box. Now, we’re at a point where any remotely plausible idea is worth trying in these drawings. Clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

David turned and retook his seat.

“We could always capture these vessels.” Aibek grinned. “There are enough boarding pods and Marines to accomplish the task easily. I’m sure Colonel Demood would look forward to the challenge.”

“So your idea of ‘We come in peace’ is to take the other side’s spaceships by force?”

Aibek shrugged. “It’s what Saurians would do in this situation. Then use the prisoners to understand their language.”

“XO, did I mention how lucky I feel that you’re on our side?” Even though David was slightly annoyed by the banter, he realized his old friend was trying to keep emotions under the boiling point on the bridge. He’s good at that.

“Many humans have mentioned this.”

“I’m sure they have.” David forced a chuckle. He returned his gaze to the tactical display, willing Rodell to figure it out before more hostilities broke out.

“Negative impact. Negative impact, all fusion warheads,” the weapons officer called out.

Cetin cursed. “That was… an energy weapon?”

“Confirmed, sir. Low-yield output. Appears to be designed specifically to defeat incoming threats.”

“Bring us around for another pass. I want point-blank range… so close we can see their eyes.”

Bo’hai struggled with her harness as she tried to stand up. “This is outrageous, Commander. You’re going to start a war!”

“Sit down, before I have you removed!” Cetin thundered. “This is a threat to our world, and I will not let it pass. I’ll ram them if I have to.”

“Please.” Bo’hai stared at the second-in-command. “Do something. You can’t allow this man to doom us all. All we need to do is make peaceful contact. Everything they’re doing is defensive.”

“She’s got a point, sir. We haven’t detected any targeting locks—”

“And you think we would? These creatures have technology far in advance of ours!”

Rong cleared his throat and kept his voice level. “Which is a reason why we should stand down, sir.”

“Weapons, arm the next pod.”

Bo’hai felt as if she were trapped in a nightmare that wouldn’t end. Maker, help us.

9

David was used to nail-biting tension in the numerous battles he’d fought against the League, but this situation was different. The knot in his stomach twisted as each report came in. We have no desire to fight you. David wished he could telepathically project his thoughts.

“Conn, TAO. Master Two closing within thirty thousand kilometers. High-resolution scans show they have at least twenty-four more missiles ready to fire.”

“We should consider the possibility of a suicide attack,” Aibek said with a hiss. “And these vessels have fission reactors.”

“Which in an explosion would turn into giant bombs.” David was painfully aware of what could happen. He also knew if they fired on the ships, they would never get anything out of the aliens. Not to mention erasing God’s creations over what amounts to a series of mistakes.

No, before I let that happen, we’ll jump out. There will be no more blood on my hands this day.

“Navigation, plot a Lawrence drive jump to the outer edge of this solar system, and factor in the rest of the battlegroup for power-generation procedures.”

“Sir, we can’t just leave,” Master Chief Tinetariro said. “This planet, it’s got to be our ticket home.”

David let out a breath. “Yes, it probably is. However, starting a war to get home isn’t on the menu of possible outcomes here.”

“Yes, sir. Of course, sir,” she replied. Fear was etched into Tinetariro’s face.

“We’re going to find a way home, Master Chief.” Again, he forced himself to flash a smile that his heart wasn’t in.

“A suggestion,” Aibek hissed quietly. “They do not appear to possess energy-based weaponry. We do.”

The idea kicked around in David’s mind for a moment. “Warning shot?”

“Yes. Even rudimentary sensor systems should detect the high-level output of our neutron beams.”

A real grin came to David’s face. “Forget that. If we’re looking to make a statement, our particle beams are a far better messenger.” The Lion of Judah had four spinal-mounted energy weapons along the ventral axis that packed enough punch to disable a League battleship in one shot. The revolutionary antimatter reactor on the Lion provided the power to use them in combat.

Aibek nodded. “If they cannot draw conclusions as to our power from that, nothing will persuade them.”

“TAO, firing point procedures, forward particle beams. I don’t want those weapons coming within five hundred kilometers of Master One through Four or any other object. Aim five degrees to port of the contacts.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” Ruth replied.

“Navigation, come to heading three-five-five. Accelerate to half thrust.”

“Aye, aye, sir.” Hammond’s voice held fear as well.

Okay, let’s hope this works. “TAO, match bearings, shoot, forward particle beams.”

Four spears of blisteringly white light raced from the Lion into the void. While they didn’t connect with anything—Ruth skillfully ensured that—the effect was one to be awed by. More energy radiated from the beams than the lifetime power output of all four ships arrayed against them.

Immediately, all four hostile vessels adjusted course away from the spears.

“I think we got their attention, sir,” Ruth said as the particle beams shut down. “New vector turns them away from us on a parallel course.”

“Communications, status?”

“Still working, sir. Close to a vidlink,” Taylor replied.

“Faster, gentlemen.” David interlocked his fingers as he stared at the various status displays. He willed his crew to work the problem and whispered a prayer in Hebrew. This has to work. Period. Without starting a war.

“Conn, TAO. Aspect change, Master One through Four. Missile launch detected. Twenty-four warheads inbound.” Ruth’s voice remained flat, as it had for years as a tactical officer.

Oh, come on. “Knock ’em out of the void, Lieutenant.”

“Maker,” the tactical officer whispered loudly enough to carry across the command deck. “The power output… we can’t calculate it.”

“Whatever that weapon was, it’s strong enough to punch through the crust of our world.”

Bo’hai turned to see the executive officer standing. “Commander, we must cease attacking them. We’re not having an effect. What if the next time, they fire on us?”

“What do you think they just did?” Cetin practically screamed. He stared at the others with wide eyes that gave him an air of madness.

With a quiet voice filled with conviction, Bo’hai returned his glare. “I may be but a humble linguist, but the actions of these beings are not those of an aggressor. They could destroy us at any moment, yet they do not. What is wrong with you?”

The cockpit became even quieter, with only the hum of electronics audible. A sudden buzz got everyone’s attention.

Bo’hai’s heart skipped a beat as she thought the aliens were firing on them.

But then the second-in-command spoke.

“We have a message from Control.” Rong glanced at Cetin. “You are hereby relieved of command, and I am to take over in your place. The zupan orders us to make every effort to cease hostilities and make peaceful contact.”

At first, it seemed as if Cetin would fight. He threw off his harness and balled his fists. As his eyes went to each officer, he must’ve seen the lack of support in their eyes. By the end of that evaluation, Cetin’s shoulders slumped forward, and he shuffled toward the rear hatch without a word.

Rong turned to Bo’hai. “What is your suggestion for ending this?”

“We need video communications. I believe with it, we can communicate our intentions.”

He nodded. “Very well. Strap back in. We’ll plot a parabolic course away from this object and see if they’re still willing to talk to us.”

“Conn, TAO. Aspect change, Master One through Four. All contacts are veering off.”

David had been within seconds of ordering an attack on the alien vessels, as they had continued to close on the Lion in what appeared to be a ramming formation. Thank you, Adonai. “Navigation, all stop.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” Hammond replied.

On the tactical plot, the alien ships continued their retreat, gaining hundreds of kilometers a second. David steepled his fingers. “Something changed over there,” he said with a glance at Aibek. “But what?”

“Perhaps they realized there was no hope in attacking us?”

The possibilities were endless, and David felt he was approaching the situation with one arm tied behind his back. I’m a military officer, not a scientist or a diplomat. This stuff isn’t in my toolkit. It might have to be added if we’re to survive.

“Conn, Communications. We’ve got a vidlink, sir. It’s scratchy, but it's there.”

“On my viewer now.”

The screen above David’s head came alive with what he assumed was the alien warship’s control center. His jaw dropped. “Are you seeing what I’m seeing, XO?”

“Humanoids,” Aibek replied, his tongue flicking.

The figures on the monitor had different skin colors similar to those of humans and contours that, besides the head and face, would pass as human.

“Given the type of star and the composition of the planet these creatures are from, it’s not an impossibility,” Hayworth interjected. “When presented with similar parameters, life often takes the easiest route. And before anyone says it, spare me the ‘God made man in His image’ talk.”

“Doctor, we’ll debate later,” David replied. “Mr. Rodell, do you understand anything they’re saying?”

“No, sir.” The young man stuck his head up. “I’m still trying pictograms.”

“Communications, transfer this vidlink to the main holotank.” David stood and stared at the projector as it filled with the scene from the alien ship. Strange sounds of a type he’d never heard before echoed across the bridge. Intermixed between the spoken words were clicking noises. “Is that their language?”

“Yes,” Rodell answered. “Fascinating, isn’t it?”

David faced Taylor. “Put me on.”

“You’re live, sir.”

“This is General David Cohen of the Terran Coalition. We come in peace for all mankind.” Cheesy, I suppose, but something humans have said to most aliens we meet. “I realize we have a language barrier and propose we work together to solve it.” As he spoke, he gestured broadly with his hands.

“I doubt they’re getting any of that, sir,” Rodell interjected. “You might want to be careful with the hand movements. They could interpret them as hostile.”

“Oh. Ah.” David grimaced. “Figured they wouldn’t get it, Lieutenant, but we still try.”

One of the aliens stepped forward. With long brownish hair that had streaks of purple running through it, the alien extended their arms and dropped their hands down, pointing toward the ground. A new series of sounds and clicks came through the speakers.

“The leader?” David mused.

“Unlikely,” Rodell replied. “That one is shorter than the others and doesn’t have the same clothing on. I’d wager the rest of them are wearing whatever their equivalent to military uniforms are. Probably a civilian or possibly from whatever government they may have. And likely a female.”

David whipped around. “You got all that from a vidlink where we can’t understand a word they’re saying?”

“Females are shorter and smaller than males in every known bipedal humanoid species in the Milky Way. They also typically have more vibrant colors for their hair or scales.”

Staring at the holotank, David saw what Rodell was getting at. His mind is wired up differently from mine. That’s a good thing.

“Ah, a man of anthropological study, I see,” Hayworth interjected. “Didn’t realize we have other scientists on this ship.”

Rodell blushed. “Just a small area of personal study, Dr. Hayworth.”

“Well, keep it up. Your conclusions are spot on to what I can see.”

David paced in front of the viewer. “Anyone got any idea what this hand gesture is they’re making is?”

Again, the alien stuck her hands out and dropped them down, palms inward, while speaking in the undecipherable tongue.

“Is it just me, or did that sound like what they said earlier?”

“Yes, it's very similar.”

“We come in peace,” David repeated as he held his hands up, showing he was unarmed, in the classic surrender pose of any soldier.

As soon as he did, the other aliens became highly agitated. Numerous voices created a cacophony, and it seemed like they were yelling at one another. Finally, the noise quieted, and all of them stood in a line and made the same palm-inward hand gesture.

Rodell started, “I think…”

“Out with it, Lieutenant.” David turned to face the junior officer. “Anything.”

“While it’s counterintuitive to us, maybe that’s what they use to signal surrendering on the battlefield or in a threatening situation.”

David shifted toward Hayworth. “Doctor, thoughts?”

“As valid as anything else we’ve tried. There’s always the downside that the hand gesture is their version of saying, ‘Sod off and die.’”

Tinetariro snickered, and it was if she’d given tacit approval to everyone else on the bridge. From enlisted ratings all the way to Aibek, everyone laughed.

Even David wore an amused smile. “Let’s hope that’s not the case, Doctor.” He faced the holoprojector once more and mimicked the alien gesture. I hope to God this works.

Relief was a universal emotion. As the tension drained from the aliens’ faces, it spread almost instantly throughout the Lion’s bridge as well. Smiles replaced the fear, and the civilian alien brought her hands together, interlocking her fingers over their heart.

Rodell made a brief sound and tried to approximate the aliens' clicking noise. He repeated it several times.

On the last try, the civilian alien repeated the sound and pointed at her chest.

“I think that’s her name.” Rodell grinned. “One down, tens of thousands to go.”

Thank you, Adonai. David felt sure that God had guided their path, and that as usual, his crew had performed above and beyond the call of duty. “I think… we just defused the crisis.”

“Yes,” Aibek said with a hiss. “But what is the next move?”

David cast his gaze toward the communications console. “Comms, mute the feed. Lieutenant Rodell, you’re the closest thing to an expert we’ve got, so… next steps?”

“Build a common vocabulary, sir. Something called a Swadesh list.”

“A what?”

“It’s a list of words that every language has. We’ve validated it throughout the Sagittarius arm. For example, every race has a word for ‘we.’ Once we understand those words, we can branch out. It’s going to take time.”

The mention of time was unwelcome. David had hoped they would find a friendly race that had perhaps accidentally pulled the Lion of Judah into Sextans B. Those hopes were dashed. Instead, a race far less advanced than theirs would need time to understand even the most basic request, and it would take even more time to get to the bottom of what was truly going on.

“I’d like to propose a meeting between the two races, sir. They have their own linguists, I’m sure. If we can get to talking, this should go a lot faster,” Rodell said.

David snapped out of his mental reverie. “That sounds like a plan to me. Use pictures to work out the initial meeting, and keep it very simple. Minimal personnel on either side until we can understand one another.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Lieutenant Taylor, let’s get this off the bridge and down to the intelligence shop on deck six.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

With a final nod to the aliens on the vidlink, who were still smiling and jabbering away in their tongue, David returned to the CO’s chair. I wonder what they’re saying about us. “TAO, status of the alien vessels?”

“They’ve moved beyond maximum weapons range for those missiles they shot at us, sir,” Ruth replied. “No further contacts on approach vector. Lots of satellites of various purposes around their planet, though.”

“Stationary?”

“Yes, sir. Primarily for communications or entertainment purposes. Some have imaging capabilities. Primitive weather prediction aids and spy systems, I’d surmise.” Ruth turned around. “We have single satellites that do what a thousand of these will do. This tech belongs in a museum.”

David chuckled. “Whoever brought us here could say the same about the Lion of Judah.”

“I suppose, sir.” Ruth grinned.

Weighing the risks, David decided that since the aliens appeared not to be a threat any longer and were headed away, he could stand down the ship. “TAO, secure from general quarters, and set condition two throughout the ship.”

The blue lights immediately switched back to white, and their brightness increased.

“Aye, aye, sir. Condition two set throughout the ship.”

“Now, we wait.”

Aibek grunted. “A Saurian warrior does not like to wait.”

David let the comment go, focusing on the tasks ahead. He made a mental note to tell Rodell to put edible food at the top of the list of complex words. We’re only a couple of weeks away from running out of fresh vegetables, bread, and meat. What comes next?

While David had an overriding mission—get his battlegroup home—beyond that, he felt lost in a way he hadn’t since the worst days of the war with the League. The clarity of purpose the peace had brought was gone. As much as possible, he resolved to give the worry to God, as his Jewish faith demanded. Why are we here?

He had no answer.

10

Since the Lion’s arrival at Zeivlot, time had seemed to have a dual track. On one hand, it flew by as Hayworth, Rodell, and Taylor, along with every member of the ship’s company with any modicum of scientific background, worked to deepen their understanding of the aliens’ culture. But when there was little to do, especially in the dead of night, time slowed to the point that it almost didn’t move.

David had spent many a sleepless night tossing and turning in his bunk. As he tiredly pulled on his duty uniform and forced himself out the hatch, he put on the happy mask of command. The day was a special one, as it marked the first time he would visit the planet’s surface. He’d decided the week before to do it, over the objections of most senior officers, because trust was lacking on either side. Let’s hope a meeting with their president—no, zupan—will help build a foundation for something more.

In preparation, David had called a final sit-down for oh-six-thirty hours in the main conference room on deck one. He strode in five minutes before to find everyone already in attendance—even Hayworth. Rodell, Calvin, Taylor, Aibek, Merriweather, Ruth, and Tinetariro were seated around the table. Dr. Izmet Tural, the Lion’s chief medical officer, had joined as well.

“General on deck!” Tinetariro thundered as he strode in, causing everyone to stand.

“As you were.” David gave a smile as he slid into the chair closest to the hatch. “Let’s get started, ladies and gentlemen. Not a lot of time today and much to do.”

Rodell and Taylor exchanged glances before Rodell spoke. “We’ve made a great deal of progress in a short amount of time, sir.”

“Does that mean we can meaningfully communicate?”

“Yes, sir. There are still some limitations among complex words, so I urge you to keep ideas as simple as possible. Our syntax is different from theirs, and it shows. Each landing party member will be equipped with the latest translation matrix.” The Terran Coalition possessed technology for real-time translation of most Sagittarius Arm languages, as did the other major races. Once a dialect was understood and programmed, the devices did a passable job.

“So don’t give them a dissertation on War and Peace?”

Muted laughter rippled across the room.

“No, sir,” Rodell replied with a smile.

Calvin put his hands on the table. “I have some observations too.”

“By all means, Colonel.” David gestured. “The floor is yours.”

“These aliens, the Zeivlots—the closest thing the comms geeks here can tell me they’re called—are smart.” Calvin pursed his lips. “They keep a careful watch on us, and I think they want our military technology.”

“That tracks, especially since they’re in a cold war with the other planet in this solar system.”

“Which is populated by people who look a whole lot like them,” Calvin replied. “It’s uncanny. And while we’re on the subject, why is it that we flew a few million light-years and ended up on the doorstep of aliens that look like us?”

Dr. Tural interjected, “They may appear like us on the outside, Colonel Demood, but the medical scans I was able to obtain from the landing teams tell a different story. The DNA of this species is different from ours in every way.”

“It’s not like humanoid life doesn’t tend to resemble other humanoid life.” David shrugged. “We see that throughout the Sagittarius Arm. In fact, bipedal humanoid species are the norm, while other lifeforms are the exception.”

“Such as the Tash-vakal,” Aibek noted.

David grimaced. They were a race of hexapedal reptilians, primarily nomadic, and preyed upon independent traders, neutral worlds, and any weak species they could.

Before he could speak, Aibek continued, “Devil lizards. We should have dealt with them when they were all on one planet.”

Most other races cared little for the Tash-vakal, as they believed in ritual xenocannibalism.

“The point stands—we shouldn’t be surprised to find humanoid life here,” David said.

“I’m surprised someone hasn’t said they’re made in the image of God,” Hayworth interjected, drawing a few stares. “Because I know you’re thinking it.”

“Perhaps, Doctor,” David replied with a thin smile. “But we’re still not debating that.”

“A shame. I miss our debates, General. So few worthy opponents, especially among the military.”

That’s probably the closest I’m going to get to a compliment out of him, so I’ll take it and move on. David pursed his lips. “I’m far more interested in the object you identified down there, Doctor. After all, that’s the entire point of this meeting. They refuse to let us near it, and the best we’ve got is orbital scans.”

“Which the Zeivlot leader is still sore about,” Rodell interjected. “They feel it was a breach of trust by taking those scans after they explained the religious significance of the obelisk.”

David closed his eyes for a moment. The day after arriving, once the planetary military had stood down, and the Lion of Judah achieved a high parking orbit over the fourth planet in the solar system, they had found the object. It could only be described as an obelisk, yet it was five kilometers tall. “I mean, it’s kind of hard to hide.”

Hayworth made a show of rolling his eyes. “It’s advanced technology, but there’s no religious element to it. A highly advanced race put it here, for some reason lost to the eons.”

“Yeah, and it’s probably why we’re here,” Ruth interjected.

“Don’t draw conclusions without facts supporting them, young lady,” Hayworth snapped. “The only thing we know is that it's made of a material the sensors don’t recognize. That, and whoever made it had a ginormous ego, because why else would you build something five kilometers into the sky?”

Chuckles swept the room once more. David joined in, though his first thought was that Hayworth would know an oversized ego when he saw it. “I’ll do my best to build some rapport with their leader and go from there. Mr. Rodell, do you have any thoughts on these aliens that aren’t in your official report?”

“Uh, like what, sir?”

“What makes them tick? What motivates these people to get up every morning and do whatever it is they do?”

Rodell licked his lips. “As far as I can tell, the same sorts of things that motivate us, sir. They find purpose in family, work, and religion. The linguistic team working with me is pretty tight-lipped, though. Clearly, there’s an attempt to gather more information than they give out.”

“I got that from the reports.” David stroked his chin. “Okay. Dr. Hayworth, any updates?”

“Only to underline that I need direct, on-site access to the artifact. If we’re going to have any chance of getting home.”

David exhaled. “Protocol will be me, Aibek, Demood, Taylor, and Rodell. While I talk one-on-one with their zupan, the rest of you will interact with a committee from their representative body of government and scientific leadership.”

“I should be present.” Hayworth crossed his arms. “As the only scientist representing the Terran Coalition in this galaxy.”

Nice try, but no, Doctor. “Not this trip. There will be plenty of others. Any saved rounds?” David made eye contact with each person.

“One, General,” Dr. Tural interjected. “I want everyone going down to the surface to visit the medical bay before you leave. I have a broad-spectrum antiviral to administer. Just as a precaution.”

“Very well. I’ll come down and roll up my sleeve.” Got to be better than the twenty shots they made us take in boot camp.

“I got one.” Calvin leaned forward. “With respect, I’m carrying a sidearm on this junket.”

“One doesn’t typically carry firearms on a diplomatic mission,” David replied.

“Tell ’em it’s a tenet of my religion.”

Snickers broke out across the conference room.

Ruth could barely keep from giggling as she commented, “What religion is that, Colonel? The first church of Leaguer shooting?”

Another round of raucous laughter ensued.

“Hey, laugh all you want, but if Sikhs can bring a knife, I’m bringing a sidearm.” Calvin was unable to keep from grinning.

“It’s called a kirpan,” David deadpanned.

Rodell held up his hand. “If I may, I don’t think our hosts will have an issue with it.”

All eyes turned to the linguist, and David furrowed his brow. “Really?”

“This is a ceremony to them, and as long as we explain that Colonel Demood’s part is to protect the others, I don’t see it as an issue.”

Calvin narrowed his eyes. “These aliens had better not try any funny business, or it’ll be the last ceremony they attend.”

“The Zeivlot, Colonel.” Leave it to the Marine to keep things black and white. “All right. Anything else?”

Silence swept the room, as did an air of anticipation. Despite being millions of light-years from home, the crew wanted to get on with it, and that gave David reason for pride.

“Okay. We’ve got our assignments. Dismissed.”

As the team stood and headed for the exits in an orderly but brisk manner, David leaned back, deep in thought. Why are we here? He couldn’t shove the question out of his mind. There had to be some logical reason for it, but whatever that was, David still had a hard time coming to terms with the situation. I hope we’ll be a few steps closer to getting home later today. That hope was what kept him going.

The shuttle ride from the Lion of Judah to the surface of Zeivlot was like many such trips David had taken to non-Coalition planets over the years—routine and uneventful. Two Phantoms provided escort alongside the craft, one flown by Amir. An honor guard was there to greet them when they landed, but the public was conspicuously absent. Taking in the trees and mountains on the skyline, he realized they were in a rural area. I wonder if the general population knows we’re here. It seemed that the aliens were intent on preserving secrecy, almost to a fault. Though if a hyper-advanced species showed up at Canaan, I suspect our government would do the same.

The landing party was immediately whisked away to an underground facility. While none of the humans could read the signs, the place screamed “military black site,” given its location and the drab nature of the buildings and infrastructure.

After they descended via an elevator in what seemed like an endless trek, the doors finally opened to reveal a nondescript corridor that reminded David of the CDF’s central command complex.

“This way, please,” their minder said. He was an alien with brown hair and an even more pronounced nose ridge than some of the others.

A few minutes later, the team strode into what appeared to be a command-and-control center. The room was ringed with monitors—old-school technology that reminded David of things he’d seen in museums.

“General Cohen, the zupan will see you now,” the minder intoned.

“See you in a bit, gentlemen,” David said to the others as he turned away. It’s so strange to hear him speak in his native tongue, followed a split second later by the translation in my earpiece. He’d had little call to use the translator system in his career, as practically everyone in the CDF spoke and wrote in English. It was common for each citizen to be fluent in three languages. While the Terran Coalition had dozens of official languages, it had been decided long ago that a common tongue was vital for the military service. Most everyone else David interacted with on a personal level spoke Hebrew—which he did as well.

David followed the minder, who led him to a small office, which wasn’t what he’d been expecting. The door swung open to reveal a short woman seated behind a desk, with a single military-aged male standing off to the side of the room. The whole place seemed spartan and reminded him of a prison.

“Welcome to our humble world, General Cohen,” the woman said as the minder disappeared, and the door closed.

David flashed a smile and extended his hand. “Zupan Vog’t, I presume?”

“Yes.” She stared at his hand for a moment before shaking. “Forgive me, but your customs are still strange to us. Please, sit. We have much to discuss.”

“I’m sure it’s that way whenever two cultures that have never met do so for the first time.” David slid into the offered chair and noted that while different in style from human furniture, functionally, it was identical to what they used.

“We were… suspicious of your story at first, General,” Vog’t replied. The translation device was still half a second behind. “The thought that a highly advanced species would show up on our doorstep was not something my society believed possible. We found it even more improbable that you were peaceful. Especially since your vessels appear to be designed for war.”

David kept his facial expression neutral. “Yet it’s true. We have no enemies here and do not wish to make any. And for the record, I greatly appreciate the hospitality you have shown us.”

Vog’t stared at him and said something the translator didn’t recognize. She tried again. “I did not understand what you said we showed you.”

This thing isn’t perfected yet. I sure hope it’s not messing up the translations too badly. Otherwise, she’ll think I’m threatening them. “Kindness.”

“Ah. Yes. Lieutenant Rodell,” Vog’t replied, peculiarly pronouncing the linguist’s name. “He was most persuasive.”

“Zupan, you know why I’m here.” David allowed a thin smile onto his lips. “I’m a military man, so I’m direct. I’ll come right out and ask—are you willing to help us get home?”

Vog’t stared at him silently with her piercing green eyes. Her facial expression was inscrutable and would’ve lent itself well to playing poker or any other game of skill in which the opponent was the other players. She let the quiet linger for what seemed like several minutes. “We as a people understand what it means to be lost. I would never stand in the way of a weary traveler going home.”

“Then I ask you to give us access to the—”

“Most sacred of all sites in the universe for my people? One where most of us aren’t allowed to go on account of it being holy ground?” Vog’t stared at him.

“I give you my word we would cause no harm. Our scanning systems are passive and wouldn’t harm the artifact in any way.” David met her gaze and held it. “As a Jew, I understand what a sacred site is. My people can no longer worship where we believe God told us to because the planet where that land is… we cannot visit, on pain of death.”

Vog’t leaned back and slowly steepled her hands. “Your linguist told us that there are many different religions among humans. I take it that a Jew is one of them?”

“Judaism, and yes.” David smiled. “There are dozens if not hundreds of types of religious belief within the Terran Coalition.”

“This concept is difficult for us to grasp. How do you not fight with one another?”

David shrugged. “Humans used to fight over a great many things. Religion was one of them along with different political ideologies and economic systems, down to resources and land. We no longer fight, after coming together and overcoming our differences.”

“Yet your Lieutenant Rodell explained to us that the Terran Coalition had recently been involved in a war that lasted for thirty years.”

“Against a different empire of humans called the League of Sol. They tried to invade us, take over our planets, and enslave our people. We resisted and prevailed.” David set his jaw. “We do not undertake offensive wars.”

“We have only your word for this, as you ask for access to the thing most important to my people. What you call an artifact, we believe was created by the Maker and placed on our world to guide us.”

David felt as if every word he spoke, every facial expression he showed, and every action he took was processed by Vog’t and immediately judged. It’s like she’s looking into my soul. The effect was most uncanny and disturbing. “I only ask that you consider our actions. When we made first contact with your species, even in the face of fusion warheads thrown our way, we only took defensive actions.”

“And did not kill any of my people, something for which I am grateful, General Cohen.”

She’s better at this than most flag officers I’ve interacted with. “Please, even allowing us to scan the object from orbit and compare notes with your scientific teams could be enough. It would at least be a place to start.”

“Not everyone on my world is as forward-thinking as I am,” Vog’t replied. “The—” The translator missed a word, and instead, only the alien tongue was heard. “Is our most sacred of places. If I allowed you to access it, there would be extraordinary outrage across all portions of our society. We have…”

David supposed the untranslated word was whatever they called the artifact. “Yes, Madame Zupan?”

“There has been much strife over it.”

Keeping something close to the vest here. The near admission was another piece of the puzzle to David. He was convinced there was more to their planet and the alien species than met the eye—and especially something other than they tried to portray themselves as. “Then let us conduct the scans. No one need know, except your handpicked science team and us.”

“Have you communicated with the—” Again, the translator cut out.

“Do you mean the inhabitants of the third planet?”

“Yes.”

“No. We sent them greetings on various channels, but they’ve not responded to us.” David felt like there was quicksand in the room. “We thought based on long-range scans that the third planet was a colony of yours.”

Vog’t made a sound close to a snort, expelling air rapidly through her nose. “No. They are unclean.”

David forced his face to remain neutral. The last thing we need to do is involve ourselves in some kind of alien war. “I see.” Two can play this game, Zupan.

“In our culture, it is customary for someone who wants something from another to offer gifts.”

It took David a great deal of self-control to prevent a smirk from forming. “In our culture, there’s a saying for something like this. A quid pro quo.” At her quizzical expression, he continued, “A something for a something.”

She smiled. “Yes. Exactly.”

“So what do you want?”

“Your ship is hundreds of rotations ahead of us, technologically speaking. You could teach us much. We could usher in a new age of prosperity and peace.”

And there’s the rub. He’d figured something like that was coming, based on reading between the lines on the many reports Lieutenant Rodell had filed. For a moment, David wished he were back fighting the League. “Suppose for a moment I would be open to such a bargain. What technology of ours are you interested in?”

“We’re still using atom-splitting reactors for power. We gather you have vastly better methods involving antimatter.”

David’s eyebrows shot up. How’d they figure that out? “Our power-generation technology…” He chose his words carefully to avoid both lying and confirming. “Is tightly controlled. It’s not something I could trade if I wanted to, under the laws of the Terran Coalition. To do so would be treason.”

“You are four million light-years from home, General.” A wicked grin came to her lips. “You couldn’t be tried for a long time.”

“Power technology is off the table.”

“What about your defensive force fields or the weapons that destroyed our missiles with ease?”

David narrowed his eyes. “What does a planet that supposedly has no wars or conflict, if what you’ve been telling us is accurate, need with enhanced shields and weapons?”

“We believe in being prepared.” Vog’t spread her hands out on the desk. “You cannot expect to conclude an agreement with us without giving me something, General.”

Silence came over the room as David contemplated her words. A shrewd negotiator. He almost put her in the category of an adversary but refrained from doing so. Vog’t knows we need her, and she won’t be helping us out of the kindness of her heart. I have to give her something. David bit his lip. “Okay. We have medical technology that is far above yours. I will have Dr. Tural, my chief medical officer, work with your leading physicians to replicate our limb-replacement systems along with the artificial prosthetics we use in the interim.”

Vog’t leaned back. “In exchange for?”

“Access to the artifact along with permission to conduct noninvasive scans and surveys. And continued fresh vegetables and meat.” David flashed a grin. “The Lion of Judah marches on its stomach.”

Again, she sat silently.

“What you’ve offered would help many citizens but not my entire world. It is not something I could use to say that your race blessed everyone. The best I can give in return is access to our knowledge and several researchers with whom you can place absolute trust.”

David nodded. “And scans from orbit?”

“We have no way of detecting them.” Vog’t shrugged. “Do as you wish.”

“It’s a good start, but I think we both know without hands-on research, my people are unlikely to find a way to reverse whatever process brought us here.” David held eye contact to the point of making the exchange uncomfortable.

“Are you sure you’re not a politician, General?”

“Absolutely not.” David chuckled politely. “Perish the thought.”

“This agreement will allow both sides to build trust. Many on my planet are disturbed by your presence. In time, they will be placated, and we can move forward.”

Sensing that was the best he could hope to accomplish without handing them a functional fusion reactor or a neutron beam—which wasn’t in the cards—David extended his hand across the table. “As humans like to say, you have a deal.”

11

After David had completed his morning exercise and grooming ritual, he ended up at the officer’s mess. Fresh produce from Zeivlot was on the menu along with remnants of their protein stores. He went in to find the place busier than usual. Probably because everyone wants to check out the new food.

He placed an order then noticed Calvin and Amir off by themselves and strode over to the table. “Mind if I join you, gentlemen?”

“Gentlemen? Where?” Calvin replied with a guffaw.

David chuckled and slid into one of the two open seats. “You need some new material.”

“Nah. Marines don’t get new material. We stick to the tried and true.”

“Yet pilots must always learn and adapt.” Amir took a bite of one of the alien root vegetables. He seemed to force himself to chew before swallowing.

“Not the best taste?”

“It is… an acquired one, sir.”

David bowed his head and whispered a short prayer in Hebrew before slicing off a piece of the strange tuber and shoveling it into his mouth. He nearly spit it out. That is disgusting. Instead, he forced himself to swallow just like his friend had. “Yeah, I see what you mean.”

“Hey, we should probably be glad they’re edible, right?” Calvin shrugged. “I heard Doc Tural saying they’re a staple down on Zeivlot and don’t have anything toxic to humans while supplying vitamins and minerals."

“Who are you, and what happened to my friend?” David deadpanned.

They laughed loudly.

“When in Sextans B, do as the locals do.”

“You guys doing a comedy convention or something?” Ruth had appeared next to the table. “May I?”

“Please,” David replied as he gestured toward the remaining open chair.

“Thanks.” Ruth set her tray down, which had the Zeivlot vegetable on it as well as eggs. They had to be of the powdered variety, given that fresh eggs were expended.

I bet the goat locker still has a few dozen. They always have a special stash. The chief’s mess had the best food on the ship, as it was on any CDF vessel. David wasn’t quite sure how the tradition had started, but in his twenty years of service, the senior enlisted always ate the best. As a prior-enlisted soldier, he always enjoyed being invited to eat with the senior NCOs. “You might want to put some ketchup or something on that potato thing.”

Ruth grinned and took a bite then quickly swallowed. “I kinda like them plain.”

All of them stared at her.

“You like those things?” Calvin asked.

“What’s the matter, Colonel? The Terran Coalition’s misguided children not quite as tough as they used to be?”

David struggled not to spray the drink of water he’d taken all over his plate. Barely swallowing it before bursting into another round of laughter, he joined the rest as Calvin turned red.

“Okay, I’ll give you that one, Captain.” Calvin took a massive bite of the vegetable and swallowed after barely chewing. “How about you come down to Marine country, and we’ll see how brave you are after a few rounds with pugil sticks.”

Ruth grinned. “Only if Taylor joins me.”

“I’ll take you both on. By myself.”

Again, guffaws swept the table before David cleared his throat. “We’ll save that for some point when the ship’s morale needs improvement.”

“Oh, hell, sir… it’s already in the toilet,” Calvin replied. “Most of my Marines were looking forward to either discharge or a few weeks of leave at the very least. Now, who knows.”

What Calvin was saying was the gospel truth, but David had suppressed it mentally for weeks. Sticking to what was in front of him helped. “We need to focus on our duty and getting home.” He glanced between the others.

“It’s easier for some of us.” Ruth set her fork down. “I have no family. Some random cousins I’ve never met, but there’re no Goldbergs left for me to spend holidays with. The rest of you are the closest thing I’ve got.”

“Hey, I appreciate the sentiment, but I miss my wife like you can’t believe,” Calvin replied.

“I pray daily for my wife and children,” Amir interjected. “I wonder every night before I close my eyes whether they have any idea where we are or if they think we perished.”

The comment was sobering and quickly lowered the volume at the table.

David pursed his lips and drew from a well of confidence deep within his soul. “We’re getting home, and we’ll see all of them again. From your wives to my mother, and, Ruth, you can go see your cousins if you want to.”

“Hey, good enough for me, sir.” Calvin set his napkin on his plate. “Meanwhile, I guess we’re getting to explore and see new things, eh?”

“Yeah. I get to go where no Jew has gone before.”

Ruth groaned. “Oh, please don’t ever repeat that again.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” David replied with a grin.

“That line was War Patrol awful.” The holonet show purported to depict what life in the CDF was like. It was reviled across the service for getting almost everything wrong.

Amir snickered. “Our tactical officer does have a point, sir. Are you sure you wouldn’t like some cheese?”

David held up a piece of meat. “Can’t mix cheese with this.” He bit into it and chewed with a smirk.

Sustained laughter pealed across the table as the meal continued. It felt good to unwind and relax with friends. David hoped the day would be a productive one. Until then, I’ve got work to do.

David had little left on his schedule after completing his morning paperwork, which consisted primarily of a few nonjudicial punishment actions. The number of them was going up, which was a concern. Stick thirteen thousand soldiers, aviation ratings, and Marines in the middle of nowhere, confine almost all of them to eight ships, and what do you expect to happen? He suspected that most of the crew would enjoy a spacewalk for a change of pace. So far, the readiness reports from their battlegroup showed all vessels remained combat effective.

However, the referral of three separate cases to a general’s mast left him unsettled. Colonel Savchenko wants to make an example out of anyone trying to set up a black market. That suited David just fine, but it still concerned him that such a thing was springing up.

Though David contemplated standing watch on the bridge, he decided to visit Hayworth’s lab instead. Hour after hour of sitting in the CO’s chair, watching one orbit after another, was boring, but worse, it gave space and time to think about never getting home. He couldn’t afford that.

After a brisk fifteen-minute walk to the lower part of the main engineering hull, David pushed the hatch open to the matter-antimatter research lab, Hayworth’s sanctum. Usually, only he and Merriweather were present. As the hatch swung inward, it became apparent there were more people inside than David had ever seen before.

Half a dozen Zeivlot clustered around several imaging systems, while Rodell, Taylor, and Merriweather were off with several members of the Lion’s G2—the intelligence shop—poring over a device David didn’t recognize.

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen,” he called out as he strode in.

“General on deck,” someone announced, and like a human wave, all the CDF personnel came to attention.

“As you were. How goes it?”

Hayworth glanced up. “This object is beyond even our comprehension. Our new friends here have been kind enough to provide a lot of data, as limited as they are without directly touching it. It’s fascinating. The material that coats the obelisk has an atomic structure unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”

David marveled at how energetic and even happy Hayworth sounded. “Are we making any progress?”

“Right now, I’m getting a baseline established and trying to determine whether the Zeivlot have observed any energy outputs from the object without knowing it.”

“We’ve also discovered writing all over it,” Taylor said from across the lab. “Rather, I should say the Zeivlot found that a long time ago and shared it with us today.”

That notion piqued David’s interest. He took a few steps toward the communications officer. “Any idea what it says?”

“No, sir. The thing is it’s not all the same language. From the analysis I've done so far, I think there are hundreds of thousands of different script types here.”

As Taylor spoke, one of the aliens came over. She wore a simple, nondescript set of clothing and had long hair that seemed evenly split between brown and purple. “This is something we did not realize. Our computers aren’t powerful enough to process all this information.”

David puzzled over her statement. They’ve got spaceships capable of intersystem flight but can’t image the surface of this object? “Forgive me, but you seem to have pretty advanced tech elsewhere.”

She smiled. “We are more advanced in some areas than others.”

The woman seemed familiar to David, but it took him a few moments to place it. Ah, yes. “You were aboard the ship that made contact with us, weren’t you?”

“I was.” She held her hand out. “Salena Bo’hai. I’m our chief xenolinguist. The only one, I might add.”

“We much appreciate your efforts.” David shook the offered hand. “The use of force is the last resort for me, especially in an unfortunate situation such as the one we were in until you and Lieutenant Rodell figured out a way to bridge the communication gap.”

“Yes, the Maker blessed our efforts.”

David flashed a smile. “I assume you’re not part of your world’s military.”

“Why do you make that assumption?”

Her reply wasn’t what he’d expected. “Well, ah… typically, military forces tend to enforce dress and grooming standards, regardless of species. The effect being we all look the same, to promote the idea that everyone is on the same team and exactly alike, aside from job and rank.”

Bo’hai tilted her head to one side, as if she was processing his statement. “I can see that. But I am afraid I still do not understand why it would be obvious I am not in the military.”

“Well, part of grooming standards includes no obviously colored hair. Like, say, purple.”

“You think that… Oh. I see.” Bo’hai smiled. “That is a natural color for my people. It used to be my sole hair color. After twenty-five rotations, many of us experience a second color appearing. That was true for me.”

David felt like he’d stuck his foot in his mouth. “My apologies.”

“Is purple hair not common in humans?”

“Only if you use a pigment to color it.”

Bo’hai’s eyes widened. “You defile your hair with chemicals?”

“Well, I don’t, but some humans do.”

Several alien scientists murmured with Bo’hai in their native tongue before she turned back toward him. “I suppose both of our cultures are strange to each other.”

“That’s often how it works,” David replied, glad he hadn’t offended her. “Do you recognize any of these languages?”

“I do not.”

David frowned. “I would’ve hoped at least some of them were native to your planet.”

“Perhaps they are. I am a linguist, however. Not a…” Bo’hai tried a couple of words until the earpiece picked one up. “Translator.”

“I thought those were the same thing.”

“Not in the least. I study how language is formed and what makes it unique. Others translate.”

“Seems like that might be a common mistake others make about your field,” David replied.

“Yes. What is the phrase Nathanael uses?” She again tilted her head. “A pet peeve.”

“That one was a favorite of my mother’s.”

Across the room, Hayworth let out a squeal and pumped his fist in the air.

David stared at him, jaw dropped. Where’d that come from? “Doctor?”

“We… found a stable superactinide.” The way Hayworth said it sounded like someone saying they’d found the holy grail or won the Galt lottery.

“Care to fill in the nonscientific rubes in the room, Doctor?”

Hayworth gestured wildly. “Imagine a stable metal with a melting point higher than the surface temperature of a blue giant. Without the mass that such a theoretical element should have.”

“So a lightweight—relatively speaking—metal that could withstand extreme punishment?” David’s mind swam with the possibilities of such a material. Even our best armor is heavy and bulky and melts after a few hits from League plasma cannons.

“A decent summation,” Hayworth replied without a trace of snark. “I might also mention it's extremely old, according to this reading.”

“How old?” Merriweather asked as she set a tablet aside.

“Between three and four hundred million years. I’d need to be on site to get closer than that.”

A hush fell over the room as the various researchers and crewmembers exchanged glances.

“That is… astounding.” David crossed his arms. “Two major discoveries in one day, Doctor. Do either of them get us closer to a solution to recreating the Lawrence drive malfunction that brought us here?”

“Well, not these specifically, but I think it all but confirms we’re on the right track. This object did something that interacted with our wormhole and brought us here.” Hayworth seemed downright giddy.

“So what’s next?”

Before Hayworth could answer, Taylor interjected, “Sir, do you read Hebrew?”

David raised an eyebrow. “I do. Why?”

“Would you take a look at this?”

“Sure.” David moved to where the communications officer was fiddling with the console to an imaging scanner mounted to the ship's outer hull.

Taylor gestured to the main screen and a slowly moving video that showed a lot of gibberish. He drew a yellow circle around a particular group of markings and zoomed in as far as the magnification would allow.

David gasped as the computer cleaned up the image. “That cannot be.” His hands shook, and he collapsed into a chair.

“Sir, are you okay?” Taylor asked.

“I’m fine.” David took a deep breath. “That’s Hebrew lettering.”

“What does it say?”

“It’s the Tetragrammaton.”

Every set of eyes in the lab was staring at David with a mixture of anticipation and shock. He realized that every Zeivlot had stopped what they were doing. Well, it’s not every day an alien shows up and claims to see his language on your religious artifact.

The opposite was true as well. How is it possible that the name of God is written in Hebrew, on an object hundreds of millions of years old, in a different galaxy? It seemed ludicrous. Yet here it sits.

“To Jews, the Tetragrammaton is a written version of the name of God. It cannot be spoken aloud.”

Bo’hai spoke excitedly to several of the other researchers, and their voices rose before they abruptly stopped, and she turned to David. “We must return to the surface immediately. This discovery is the most wonderful thing. What is written in your language is the same as what is written in our language. The Maker must’ve touched both of our peoples.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Hayworth rumbled. “And remember that any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic. Whatever species deposited the obelisk clearly transcends the space-time continuum.”

David was shellshocked. “I think taking some time to reflect here would be a good idea,” he finally got out. “Doctor, I trust you have enough data to proceed in your research?”

“For the time being, yes. The next step is really an onsite survey and inspection. I’m especially keen to take readings on the material encasing it. The substance could completely revolutionize our approach to super-heavy metals.”

Time seemed to blur as the aliens said their goodbyes and were escorted out by the masters-at-arms. David went through the motions, wanting to be alone, while he tried to process what happened—until Bo’hai appeared in front of him.

“You seem as if you are far away, General Cohen.”

He snapped out of his mental fog and locked eyes on her. “Much to consider, I’m afraid. This discovery is wondrous and inexplicable at the same time.”

“Think of how we feel,” she replied dryly. “I hope our two peoples can continue to explore together.”

“I’d like that.”

Bo’hai inclined her head. “Good day to you, General, and may the Maker guide your way.”

As she and the last of the Zeivlots departed, Hayworth cleared his throat. “Now, if the rest of you would excuse me, I have research to accomplish.”

David thought of tossing some banter at the doctor but found his heart wasn’t in it. He turned to go and took a stroll through the 1.2-kilometer-long vessel. Taylor and the others, perhaps sensing David’s desire for quiet, did not follow.

The passageways deep in the vessel's bowels, where the cargo bays and storage lockers resided, were typically empty. Being there was as close to being alone as he could manage except in his cabin. Where it feels like the walls are closing in on me as the weeks go on.

What scared him the most about the revelation was how the Name of God from the earliest writings of Judaism could be present on a piece of technology in a different galaxy. The scientific side of his brain examined the possibilities, and the other portion ruled by faith didn’t like the answers. Is God merely a super-powerful alien species? He couldn’t accept that. No. Not with what I’ve seen in life can I ever give that concept credence. Still, it gnawed at him like an unseen phantom.

I must follow this development wherever it leads. If nothing else, it should shake things up with the zupan.

David glanced at his handcomm, which doubled as a watch and many other devices. Almost time for evening prayers. Hashem knows I need them today, more than ever. He set off toward the shul.

Ruth sat alone in the officers’ mess, long after the evening meal. The news of the Hebrew writing found on the obelisk had taken the Lion by storm, and the hubbub of everyone speculating on what it meant and more importantly how it would get them home grew tiresome. She stared into the void, nursing a mug of tea.

The murmur of voices attracted her attention as they grew louder and more insistent. Ruth glanced up to see a mess steward approaching her. I wonder what this is about.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, ma’am, but Private Nussbaum insists you two know each other and would like a word. I realize it's outside of customs and courtesies, but I didn’t want to call the master-at-arms on her without asking you.”

When the chief said ‘Nussbaum,’ Ruth’s heart skipped a beat. She squinted to make out the young woman in the entrance to the mess. No. It can’t be. “Private Susanna Nussbaum?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Please, send her over. We served together a few years back.”

The chief nodded. “Right away, ma’am.” He walked back to where Susanna was standing and gestured toward Ruth’s table.

As Susanna came over, conflicting emotions raced to the surface. It seems like a lifetime ago we retook Freiderwelt alongside Master Chief MacDonald’s crazy commando team. Memories of the tier-one operators brought a smile to her lips.

Ruth stood and embraced Susanna, surprising even herself. “Where did you come from?”

After they let go of the hug, Susanna relaxed into a parade rest position. “I… That is a long story.”

Ruth pursed her lips. “I’ve got time.” She gestured to the table. “Sit with me, and start at the top. The last time we spoke, you were talking about getting married.”

“I know.” Susanna dropped into a chair. “And I came within a few days of going through with it, but I couldn’t. Something about just settling down while the galaxy spun out of control wasn’t okay. You and all the others fought to save us.” Tears formed in her eyes. “You didn’t know us, but still, millions of people sacrificed for my world. It is a debt that can never be repaid.”

Her words brought up wave after wave of emotions in Ruth. She’d grown up on Freiderwelt, what seemed like a lifetime ago when it was under Terran Coalition control. Her parents had been murdered in front of her by a League political commissar, and she’d joined the resistance and later the CDF with one objective: kill as many Leaguers as possible. The road back from being all consumed by hatred had started when she met Susanna. “I didn’t want this for you.”

Susanna brushed away a strand of brown hair that had come undone from her tightly wound bun. “That weighed on me a lot. But… I couldn’t be happy with Jacob. The closer the date of our wedding came, the worse I felt. I’m thankful that my father recognized what was going on and talked to me a few days before the ceremony.”

“I don’t recall your father being the most charitable when it came to the influence of outsiders,” Ruth replied.

“The master chief had an impact on him. You did too. Everyone did.” Susanna bit her lip. “Especially Petty Officer Meissner.”

That’s a name I haven’t heard in a while. Ruth flashed back mentally to trying to save the commando after he’d taken a round that pierced his armor at the chest. Even after such a long time, it still hurt. He was under her command, and she’d lost him. “I know.” She put her hand on Susanna’s. “I miss him too. So… how did you end up on the Lion, of all postings?”

Susanna shrugged. “I don’t know. I asked for it as one of my three preferred duty stations, and here I am.” She forced a smile. “I’ve tried to work up the courage to come talk to you for the last two months.”

“You’ve been on this ship for two months? I… Be glad I care so much about you. Otherwise, I’d be seriously pissed right now.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry. I’m over it.” Ruth glanced at Susanna’s shoulders. The distinctive black-and-blue CDF Intelligence patch sat on the left, while the Terran Coalition and Christian flags were on the right. “No Amish symbol?”

“They didn’t have one.” Susanna giggled. “Not a lot of us serve, I suppose.”

“You’re the first I’ve met.” Ruth took a sip of her tea, which had gotten cold. “How’d you end up in intel?”

“My TCVAB scores were off the charts. I got to pick whatever I wanted. So… I decided to do intel analysis. That sounded interesting to me.”

Ruth grinned. “I knew you had more brains than the rest of us.”

“I’ve spent the afternoon studying imaging from that obelisk. What do you think of it?”

“Beyond that I’m a bit tired of hearing everyone go on about it.” Ruth rolled her eyes. “It’s interesting, and if what I heard Hayworth dated the thing to is true, it means there’s an example of Hebrew writing that’s hundreds of millions of years old.”

“But as a Jew, doesn’t that confirm your faith?”

“I suppose I’m technically still a Jew because if you’re born one, you’re always one.” Ruth paused to choose her words. “But I converted to Christianity right before the Third Battle of Canaan.”

Susanna’s jaw dropped. “Why?”

“It felt right, and it’s what I came to believe.” Ruth shrugged. “What can I say? It’s stuck.”

“I’m glad for you, then. One of the technicians in the analysis unit is agnostic. He made an argument that what they found proves that God is just another alien, with more advanced tech.”

Ruth snorted. “I don’t buy that in the least. Do you?”

“Not really. But being outside my bubble is making me consider new things and viewpoints.”

“That’s good. And how it should be. You’ll do fine.”

“Oh my.” Susanna’s eyes widened as she pointed at the engagement ring on Ruth’s finger. “I just realized. When? Who? I’m so happy for you.” Her jaw dropped. “Oh, I’m sorry… we’re so far from home.”

“No, it’s okay. He’s on the ship. Our communications officer, Robert Taylor.”

“Lieutenant Taylor?”

“The one and only.”

Susanna waggled her eyebrows. “He’s cute.”

Ruth’s cheeks heated, and a silly grin came over her face. “He’s a lot of things and probably the best thing to happen to me.”

“It’s important we all find that someone.”

“And this Jacob you were talking about?”

“Maybe when I’m done with my service.” Susanna bit her lip. “He promised he’d wait for me, even though I told him not to.”

“If he does, that’s a real point in his favor,” Ruth replied. “Though who knows when or if we’re getting home.”

“God will see us through. That keeps me going.”

“Me too.” Ruth glanced at her commlink. “And I had better get some rack time, so I can stand watch at oh-seven-hundred without sounding like a blithering idiot.” The talk of Taylor had made her uncomfortable, though the ever-present lack of sleep mattered too.

“Is there some way we can keep in touch besides my ambushing you like this?”

Ruth laughed. “Send me a message on my fleetlink profile. We can coordinate meeting up there. Maybe do dinner with Robert too.”

“I’d like that.”

They stood and embraced once more. “It's selfish of me, but I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too. And it’s not selfish. My mother always said the more friends we have, the better our lives are.”

“Smart woman.”

They waved goodbye as they exited the mess and went in different directions.

Ruth’s thoughts wandered as she experienced whiplash from the sudden appearance of one of the few people in the universe outside the crew of the Lion of Judah who she genuinely cared about. Maybe it’s one of those God things the chaplain is always talking about. Whatever the cause, she was happy it had happened.

12

Riding in the passenger and cargo area of a CDF shuttle wasn’t David’s preferred mode of transport. I’d much rather sit up front in the jump seat, behind the pilot. Being cut off from the flight metrics left him constantly wondering what the status of the craft was. The curse of a Type A personality, I suppose. The rest of the landing team was seated around the cabin and strapped into the same kind of harness he was.

The shuttle shook slightly, causing Hayworth to pitch to the side. “Bloody CDF pilots. Can’t fly straight.”

Calvin chuckled. “Doc, you ever done a combat drop?”

“Do I look like I have?” Hayworth answered with a withering glare.

“Not really. But that’s beside the point. Because if you had, you’d be paying every last credit you have to the pilot for this wonder ride.”

A few of the Marines in the security detail snickered, and one of them slapped Hayworth’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Doctor. We’ll take good care of you and the other cake-eaters.” Immediately, the young man gulped and glanced at David. “Begging your pardon, General.”

David chuckled. “No problem, Private. If ‘cake-eater’ is the only thing I’m called, then I’m doing my job right.”

Rodell, in a seat across the way, had turned green and pressed a space-sickness bag to his face. Taylor was next to him and kept coaching him in hushed tones. “Hey, in, out. In, out.”

The shuttle flared up after a few more bumps before setting down with a rumble. The harnesses popped open automatically, reminding David of an actual combat drop. How many of those have I done? More than I can count. The rear ramp dropped, revealing the bright light of the Zeivlot sun. It painted the landscape all around them in a harsh shade of orange.

Calvin sprang to his feet. “Honor guard, on me.”

At his command, the rest of the Marines formed up and filed off the shuttle.

David and the others followed closely, pulling their covers on as they exited.

A few meters away, a contingent of Zeivlots stood by impassively. Among them was the linguist who’d helped translate their language into English and vice versa. He recognized her purple hair. Bo’hai. That was her name. She stood next to a male who was in charge, David guessed from the way the others were looking at him. Dozens of other aliens were present. I wonder what their purpose is. Many of them appeared to be military, with projectile weapons of some sort hanging in slings off their shoulders.

“General Cohen, welcome to our world!” Bo’hai called out and motioned them forward.

David nudged Calvin and strode across the ground, which was covered in green vegetation the likes of which he’d never seen. It reminds me of grass, but it clearly isn’t. Most of the planets he’d set foot on had been terraformed by humans over a hundred or more years. I can see why an explorer would be enthralled with finding a new world.

As interesting as the vegetation, the coloring of their star, and the general geography of the planet were, none of it compared to the obelisk itself, as the structure came into the periphery of David’s vision. He turned toward it almost involuntarily, and the sight was breathtaking.

Ascending into the sky as far as the eye could see, the obelisk was the singular feature of the region. The area was unusually flat but covered in different low-growth vegetation, with little infrastructure. The obelisk reminded David of a massive skyscraper from Lawrence City, the capital of Canaan. Except no windows or entryways were visible. Streaks were all over the alloy surface. While he knew they were writing in various languages, there was no way to tell what they were at that distance. “Wow.”

Bo’hai appeared at his side. “Incredible, isn’t it?”

“I’ve never seen a structure like this before. We have space elevators on Canaan and most of the core, long-settled worlds of the Terran Coalition. They’ve got nothing on this… tower.”

She smiled. “So you’ve seen dozens of other planets?”

“At least. More if you count the asteroids, moons, and planetoids.” David chuckled. “There’re a lot of inhabited worlds where we come from.”

“And nothing like this?”

“No.” David shook his head. “Especially when you factor in what’s written on it.”

The other Zeivlot next to her cleared his throat.

“Oh, where are my manners? General Cohen, allow me to introduce you to Lama Busawe Nals. He is one of our chief, ah, ministers.”

David inclined his head and extended his hand. “A man of God, so to speak?”

“Yes, General. That which you walk on is holy ground. We expect that you will treat it with the respect and reverence it deserves.”

“As a man of faith myself, I understand and give you my word of honor that all humans from the Terran Coalition will do so. Are there any specific rules we should abide by that the government hasn’t made us aware of?”

Nals pursed his lips. “Nothing outside of the protocol sheets you were given.”

“May we get started?”

“Yes.”

David motioned to Hayworth and the others. “Gentlemen, get the scanners set up, and move out. We’re on the clock.”

Over the next few hours, the doctor calibrated his equipment and performed a series of background tests. The process seemed painfully slow, but as he loudly and repeatedly reminded the team, real science took time. Most of the religious entourage disappeared, and only the Zeivlot security force remained.

David, rather than stand over the team’s shoulders, took a stroll around one section of the base of the obelisk. While it extended into the ground, it had no visible foundation. The closer he got to the artifact, the more the area seemed to hum with an energy David couldn’t place. But he could feel it. It’s like the hair on the back of my neck is standing up continuously. I wonder what it would’ve been like to stand next to the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem on Earth.

“Fascinating, isn’t it?”

He whirled around to find Bo’hai standing behind him and shut off his well-honed combat reflexes. “Yes, very much so. I can’t see any obvious weld marks. It’s almost as if this is a single sheet or solid block of alloy.”

“I’ve only seen it in pictures before today,” she replied. “I couldn’t help but notice how you flinched when I spoke. Did I offend you?”

David pursed his lips. “No. I’m a soldier, and the way my brain works is to treat anything that I haven’t assessed as a threat.”

“Ah.” She nodded. “There’s lots of… How do humans say it? Spear-rattling. But little actual war on our world.”

“Saber-rattling. A saber is a type of sword.” David chuckled. “But I appreciate the use of our idioms.”

“I find language to be a beautiful thing, General. And yours… by definition of it being from another galaxy, is the most intriguing I’ve ever encountered. I could probably spend my life studying the various human tongues.”

Before David could reply, shouts from twenty meters away drew his attention.

Hayworth was practically jumping up and down, gesturing wildly at one of the pieces of equipment, while Rodell and Taylor huddled around. Calvin and the other Marines wore expressions of bemusement and stared at him.

“Okay. There’s a first time for everything,” David muttered. “I need to see what’s going on, if you’d care to join me.” At Bo’hai’s nod, he covered the distance with long strides.

As they entered earshot, Hayworth rushed up and latched on to David’s arm. “General, this is amazing! I’ve got confirmation that the same power signature we detected inside the rogue wormhole is emanating at low levels from the obelisk. It brought us here!”

“Doctor, I’ve never seen you this animated,” David replied with a grin.

“You should’ve seen me after I got the first stable antimatter reaction.”

Bo’hai and the other Zeivlots within earshot did double takes at Hayworth’s words.

At some point, I’ll have to counsel the doctor on not letting things like that slip. David stepped closer and observed a panel on the scanning device. “Any idea what it’s made of?”

“Not a specific material yet, except to confirm previous findings of a high-atomic-weight metal.” Hayworth’s eyes widened. “If this is right, the structure is solid, but…”

“Doctor?” David prodded.

“The weight of such a metal is astronomical. What we’re observing isn’t possible according to the known laws of physics and reality as we understand them.”

Which is a fancy way of saying whatever technology constructed the object is far beyond our ability to comprehend, at least with the information available. David briefly considered the possibility of divine construction but rejected it out of hand. God doesn’t need spaceships or giant obelisks.

“Sir,” Rodell interjected, breaking David’s train of thought. “You’d better look at this.” He stuck a tablet out.

David took the offered device and stared at the screen. It took him a few moments to figure out what the linguist wanted him to see. Writing on the artifact matched that of two extinct Sagittarius Arm races that had been discovered in archaeological digs. He glanced up. “Are you sure?”

“Positive, sir. This is amazing.”

Amazing. Wondrous. Astounding. Those adjectives describing one of the most significant finds in the history of human civilization flowed like milk and honey. David found it hard not to be overwhelmed.

A loud metallic sound crashed in the distance.

The Marines immediately perked up, and Calvin turned toward David.

Another boom echoed, and the source of it was unmistakable: an explosion. Several Zeivlot security officers drew their weapons and spoke excitedly into headsets.

As the crash of explosives grew louder, one of the officers approached David and the team. “You have to leave immediately. We’re under attack.”

“By whom?” David blurted out, completely taken aback.

The man replied, but the word didn’t translate.

Bo’hai spoke up. “Terrorists. What you would call terrorists.”

David’s mind swam. What is going on here? The particulars would have to wait, but something like that didn’t happen overnight. The zupan has some explaining to do. “Colonel Demood, get our people and equipment aboard the shuttle immediately.” He turned to Bo’hai. “We’re happy to evacuate you and any remaining religious personnel as well.”

As she opened her mouth to reply, the whine of a vehicle engine filled the air, and a hoverbike shot over a small hill nearby. The moment it crested the top, less than two hundred meters away, two figures dropped off the back and brought up weapons.

By the loud reports of the rifles, David assumed they were projectile- and propellant-based firearms, similar in basic design to what the CDF used. Though probably nowhere near as advanced. Muscle memory took over, and he shoved Bo’hai to the ground as he dropped. Three more hoverbikes shot over the hill, each depositing more hostiles.

The enemy forces quickly cut down multiple Zeivlot security troops and seemed to prioritize them over the humans. Several of the friendlies knelt and returned fire, felling an attacker.

“Permission to engage, General?” Calvin shouted.

“Light ’em up, Colonel!” David yelled back. He turned to Bo’hai. “Crawl toward the shuttle. I’ve got to get to the doctor. Do not put your head up.”

Bo’hai grabbed his hand. “Please don’t leave me.”

“I’m heading toward danger. You will not be safe.” David sorely wished he had a sidearm.

“It doesn’t matter.” She stared into his eyes. “Please.”

Oh, good grief. “Crawl behind me. Do exactly as I do.” If I get her killed, I’m going to regret it the rest of my life, but I don’t have time to argue with an alien right now. David turned and crawled on his belly, like he had in bootcamp through obstacle courses.

Hayworth had the excellent sense to flatten himself, as did Rodell and Taylor, using the scanning equipment as cover. A trio of rounds slammed into the device, causing pieces of alloy and plastic to go flying.

“Anyone hit?” David asked as he dragged himself the last meter.

“I don’t think so, sir,” Taylor replied.

David peered from behind the scanner, trying to get a sense for the state of the battle. Several attackers lay sprawled on the ground, though a greater number of Zeivlot security forces were as well. Calvin and two Marines had taken cover behind the shuttle and were suppressing several enemies with accurate rifle fire. He’d thought the situation was getting under control until the familiar whine of a hoverbike preceded it roaring over the hill at full speed.

The bike charged head-on for the nearest group of friendlies—four Zeivlots with stubby firearms that reminded David of a CDF personal-defense weapon. As they poured a stream of bullets into the oncoming vehicle, the driver fell off, and the bike came to a stop. Well, that’s one way to—

A blinding explosion and a loud roar erupted from where the hostile lay. David was flung backward by the concussive wave, which pelted the team and science equipment with shrapnel.

David blinked, trying to restore his eyesight after the momentary flash-blindness. The group of Zeivlots was gone.

My God. Suicide bombers. Such tactics were a shock to him, and not even the League of Sol had stooped to using them. I would give up a body part for a weapon right about now. The sunlight glinted off the barrel of one of the Zeivlot weapons as it lay in the foliage a couple of meters away.

“Everyone okay?” he called out while feeling himself for wounds.

“No,” Hayworth grumbled. “How long that remains true is up for debate.”

More hoverbikes zoomed over the hill, and black-clad combatants jumped off, adding to the enemy force.

David’s handcomm crackled. “Demood to Cohen.”

“Go ahead,” David said as he brought the device to his lips.

“We’re close to being overrun here, sir. Recommend you call in the QRF.”

David had considered it the moment the terrorists attacked but came to a split-second decision not to risk further inflaming relations with the aliens. The situation was also different. “Agreed, Colonel. Hold what you’ve got, and stand by to provide cover fire. I’m going to shepherd everyone over to the shuttle if I can.”

“Roger that, sir. Stay frosty over there. The slug throwers these goons are using seem to be pretty accurate.”

“Something like that.” David tapped his handcomm, switching the frequency to one the Lion of Judah monitored. “Cohen to Lion. Priority-one emergency. Come in. Over.”

A pause followed before the commlink engaged, during which volleys of rifle fire echoed, driving home the mortal peril they were in.

“Lieutenant Bell here, sir. Go ahead.”

“Bell, listen carefully. We’re under attack by about a dozen well-organized hostiles—with an unknown number of reinforcements. I want the Marine QRF to launch immediately along with the alert squadron of Phantoms.”

Static crackled as Bell spoke again. “Understood, sir.”

“Lieutenant, make sure the QRF understands we have hostiles with suicide-bomb vests.”

“Did you say suicide bombers, sir?”

“Yes, Lieutenant,” David snapped. “Get them moving. Now.”

Bell gulped. “Yes, sir.”

“Cohen out.” David eyed the weapon he’d spotted before making the mayday call. “The rest of you, keep your heads down. I’m going for the rifle out there.” Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Bo’hai staring at him with her mouth open as her face was pressed into the ground.

“Let me grab it, sir,” Taylor interjected. “You stay here.”

“Negative. I’m closest.” David waited for a volley of fire to die down and for Calvin to lean out and start chucking rounds toward the remaining enemies, who were bunched up around their hoverbikes for cover. He crouched and, making himself as small as he could, raced toward the weapon, grabbed it, and made for the scanner as bullets slapped the ground around him.

As David dove behind the piece of scientific equipment, he felt a burning sensation on his right arm. A red stain expanded around a rip in his uniform. Great. Fine time to get shot.

“You’re hit, sir.”

“I hadn’t noticed, Taylor,” David deadpanned. When in doubt, defuse a situation with humor. He tore a strip of cloth off his shirt cuff and wrapped it around the wound. “It’s minor. Just a graze.”

The battle had shifted to a stalemate. While Calvin and his Marines maintained good cover and exchanged fire with the Zeivlot terrorists, reinforcements seemed to have stopped coming. But the friendly forces were still outnumbered by three to one.

“Okay. Here’s what we’re going to do,” David said, keeping his tone calm. “I will, in conjunction with Demood, lay down covering fire, and all of you will run as fast as you can to the shuttle. It's about twenty meters, and you should be able to cover it before they poke their heads up.”

“What about you, sir?” Rodell asked.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll take care of myself.” David flashed a grin. As the sounds of gunfire and battle echoed around them, he felt in the element. Not feeling fear in this situation says something terrible about me.

But there would be time for rumination later. He touched his handcomm. “Cal, get ready to join me in encouraging our friends over there to keep their heads down. I’m sending our team over to you.”

“Protect the comms geeks. Got it, General,” Calvin replied, the line crackling with static.

David checked the action on the Zeivlot firearm and hoped it didn’t have a safety. It seemed to work like a typical human ballistic weapon did, with a trigger and some sort of fire-selector switch. “Go!” he thundered while swinging the barrel up, over the scanner, and squeezing the trigger.

A burst of rounds erupted from the alien weapon and pelted one of the bikes the attackers had taken cover behind while all three Marines joined in with sustained fire. With the hostiles momentarily suppressed, Taylor jumped up, grabbed Hayworth by the arm, and propelled him forward. Rodell and Bo’hai scurried behind them.

One of the aliens must’ve been made from slightly sterner stuff than his compatriots, as he rose from behind cover and tried to shoot down Taylor and the others. David sighted down the submachine-gun-like weapon and squeezed the trigger. A flurry of shots rang out, and the Zeivlot attacker pitched backward as a red stain spread across his chest.

At the sight of their comrade dying, other enemies popped up and tried to engage. Accurate shots from Calvin and the Marines put most down hard, with a few having the good sense to drop behind cover once more.

As Hayworth, Bo’hai, Taylor, and Rodell finally made it to safety behind the shuttle, David breathed a sigh of relief. My first duty is attended to. Now let’s see about surviving this one. He cued his handcomm. “Cal, everyone okay?”

“Yes, sir,” Calvin replied. “Nice shooting for a fleet guy, by the way.”

David chuckled. “Glad to be of service.”

“We’re almost out of ammo. I wasn’t expecting a pitched firefight with a bunch of yahoos.”

“QRF’s on the way, and I told them to send Phantoms.” David peered over the scanner, which was riddled with bullet holes. I hope we can 3-D print another one of these things, or Hayworth’s gonna go berserk. Another burst of enemy gunfire forced him back down. “Don’t waste rounds, Cal. We’ll make it through this.”

The words were as much for David as they were for the others. The situation remained precarious, and fear knotted in his stomach.

“Bell to General Cohen” crackled out of the handcomm.

“Go ahead, Lieutenant.”

“QRF is sixty seconds out, sir. Phantoms should arrive on station any moment. Colonel Amir has taken personal command of the flight element.”

“Good. Cohen out.” David checked the magazine in the Zeivlot weapon. As far as he could tell, it had less than a third of the rounds he’d started with. I’ll have to make every shot count.

A series of sonic booms rent the air, and one SF-106 Phantom after another zoomed over the area. They were so close to the ground that the wing markings were easily identifiable. The effect on the remaining hostiles was immediate: several jumped up and ran, sprinting for the small hill and, presumably, safety on the other side.

Bad move. Strange what fear can do. David squeezed off a few rounds, felling one, while the Marines took down the rest. He let out a sigh as he confirmed each enemy was either visibly wounded or not moving. David stood and kept his weapon trained in the enemies’ direction as he walked over to the shuttle.

“So, let me get this straight,” Calvin said in his booming voice. “We fly four and a half million light-years only to get some jokers shooting at us? I mean, come on, General. Plenty of Leaguers still left to shoot at back in the Milky Way.”

David chuckled. “Yeah, I grow tired of it too.”

“Hell, I’m not living unless somebody’s trying to kill me.” Calvin ejected the magazine from his rifle and checked it. “Only got two rounds left. Good timing from our flyboys.”

Out of the corner of his eye, David saw movement from one of the bodies. The Zeivlot climbed to his feet and took off running toward them at a pace that seemed to defy logic. Another suicide bomber. On instinct, David ran as fast as his legs would carry him as he raised his weapon and squeezed the trigger. A single round erupted from the barrel but missed. The action clicked, indicating a spent magazine.

Shouts behind David echoed as he launched himself at the Zeivlot and collided with him in midair, tackling him. As he collapsed on the man, the attacker tried to wrench himself free, screaming in the alien language. A small green wire led to a polymer cylinder with a purple button on top.

The realization that the cylinder was a dead-man’s switch roared into David’s mind as time seemed to slow to a stop. His brain was considering multiple things at once as engrained muscle memory guided David’s hand to close over that of the would-be bomber. Is this where and how I die? He let out a guttural roar as the terrorist punched him repeatedly with his other hand, and held on with all his might.

“Stop resisting!” Calvin screamed from what sounded like less than a meter away.

David didn’t dare take his eyes off the hostile for a moment. “SVEST!” he yelled between grunts.

One moment, they were fighting over the dead-man’s switch, the next, the barrel of a battle rifle was pressed against the terrorist’s head, followed quickly by the deafening thunderclap of a round being fired at point-blank range.

Must hold on. That was the only thought in David’s mind as the sound and pressure wave from the bullets rattled around in his brain, generating extreme pain as his ears tried to process it. As the effect died down, he realized Calvin was holding the dead hostile’s hand shut along with him.

“Miller! Get some hundred-kilometer-an-hour tape out of the shuttle!” Calvin touched David’s shoulder. “You okay, sir?”

David forced himself to nod. “Yeah. I’ll feel a bit better when I’m not holding a bomb, though.”

“That was real some John Wayne shit there, sir.” Calvin grinned from ear to ear. “Almost… Almost reminded me of a Marine.”

The pounding of David’s heart was so strong that he heard it in his ears and took deep, measured breaths. “I figured he’d want to get more than one of us.”

One of the enlisted Marines dashed over with the tape, and between the three of them, they quickly secured the detonator.

David’s entire body shook as he stood and stared at the corpse. “I thought for sure I was a goner there.”

“Nah. Not with the Terran Coalition’s misguided children covering your back,” Calvin replied.

Around them, three shuttles roared out of the sky and set down in combat landings. The rear ramps opened, and dozens of Marines poured out in full combat armor. One power-armor suit was imposing, while a company of them was enough to inspire terror in anything but a similarly outfitted combatant. Medics fanned out to help the injured Zeivlots.

“Let’s get that arm looked at, sir,” Calvin said as a squad jogged up.

“No, take care of the others first. This will keep.” David tried to take in the scene around him. The battlefield was more horrific than usual, thanks to it occurring in the shadow of a religious relic.

“Yes, sir. You heard the general. Spread out, and see who’s still breathing.”

As the group of power-armored Marines moved off, Bo’hai walked up. “Uh, General Cohen?”

David turned toward her. Her face had a deep gash on it, and blood had matted her purple hair. “You need medical attention.”

“As you said, there are far worse out there than me.” Her voice broke. “I don’t… I…”

“You’re not supposed to understand it,” David replied gently. He put an arm around her shoulders. “War is hell. This was a small taste of what it looks like when people decide to use violence to achieve political or religious aims.”

“We… We all know there’re some extremists on our planet, but this…” Tears streamed down her face. “You saved me.”

“Just doing my job.”

“But you’re not sworn to defend us. Only humans in the Terran Coalition, as I understand how your system works. You put your life on the line for me.”

“A solider defends those who cannot defend themselves. That’s my job. Now, if you’ll let me get back to it, I want answers. Lieutenant Rodell will assist you in contacting the authorities as we clean this mess up.”

“Of course.”

Over the next few hours, the CDF medics did what they could and actually saved several members of the Zeivlot delegation. Two terrorists with nonlethal injuries were also secured. Friendly forces from the local constabulary and hospital cadres eventually arrived, and the process of leaving the religious site began.

After two out of the three shuttles of power-armored Marines had dusted off, as an entire squadron of Phantoms circled overhead, David stood in the back of the craft they’d ferried down on, watching as the last of their gear was packed up. While most of it was ruined, Hayworth had insisted on retrieving everything. Perhaps he thinks he can get some data off the data banks. David wasn’t sure, though he didn’t care. The battle had taken everything out of him, and ruminating on what had occurred left him exhausted.

Several armored hovercraft came into view and rapidly closed the distance before stopping less than twenty meters from the shuttle. A side hatch opened, and a dozen armed Zeivlots flooded out. They all wore uniforms and had far more impressive-looking weapons than the security troops. One man with several insignias on his uniform collar marched over to the shuttle and yelled, “Who is in charge here?”

David pulled himself to his full height and squared his shoulders. “General David Cohen.” He didn’t bother extending an arm, knowing where the interaction was going.

“Am I to understand that you removed prisoners from this site?”

“That’s correct,” David replied.

“We will deal with enemies of the state ourselves. I demand you return them immediately.”

“No.”

The Zeivlot stared at him, as if he didn’t quite comprehend the word and was running it through his mind to see if he’d misheard. “This is our world, outsider. Hand them over.”

“They’re already back on my ship, where I intend to interrogate them and get to the bottom of why they attacked us.”

“My troops outnumber you twenty to one. Return them immediately, or I will force the issue.”

David stared at him then took a step toward the alien and put his nose four centimeters from the Zeivlot’s face. “I have a full company of power-armored Marines at my disposal. Any one of them has more firepower than any hundred of your soldiers. So if you want to take them on, be my guest. Otherwise, get off my shuttle, and we’ll be on our way.”

The Zeivlot commander contorted his face with what appeared to be rage. “The zupan will hear of this, human!” he snarled as he turned to go.

As the man receded into several rows of troops, David glanced at Calvin. “I dunno about you, but I’m ready to dust off.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself. My guys report all the damaged gear is stowed. We can leave anytime.”

“Let’s get on with it.”

Watching as the tough Marine started barking orders, David had one thought that repeated over and over. Vog’t has a lot of explaining to do.

Once the ramp closed, he allowed himself the luxury of anger toward her. It quickly grew to blinding rage.

13

David was not a man easily given to anger. Judaism taught that such emotions were a sin before God, and its teachings were rife with examples of the aftereffects of letting anger take control. One such charge came into his mind as he squeezed the tablet on his day cabin’s desk. He who keeps his mouth keeps his life, while he who opens his lips brings ruin. David was about to break the proverb. Such raw rage pumped through his veins that he saw red as he mashed the final button on the screen to connect to Zupan Vog’t. If the device hadn’t been nearly indestructible, it would’ve broken in two.

Her face popped onto the screen, complete with the politician’s trademark smile. “General—”

“Stow it.”

“General—

“You lied to me. You put my entire team at risk, and it’s only by the grace of God that we’re not dead.”

“I did no—”

He leaned forward, getting as close to the camera as possible. “Lies of omission are still lies, Zupan. When did you plan to tell me there’s a well-organized terrorist group on your world? Was it before or after a human being was killed?”

“Gene—”

“If we didn’t damn well need your artifact to get home, I would jump out of here this instant and leave you to all to rot.” David balled his fists then released them. The red in his vision had started to fade as the words poured out.

“Please, General, let me speak.”

David pursed his lips. “Whatever you have to say, say it.”

“I should’ve been honest with you… but our internal security agencies felt there was minimal threat against a hardened target, and that site is our most sacred.”

“Then how did a few dozen terrorists waltz in and start killing everyone?” David spat.

“Because they had inside assistance. Several guards were sympathizers.”

David leaned back, his mind swimming. Inside threats. People wearing suicide vests. This doesn’t add up. “You’d better take this from the top, Zupan. Because I’m one step away from deciding I will use whatever force is required to ensure Dr. Hayworth gets what he needs to get us home.”

Vog’t’s face flashed red, and she snarled before the expression melted away. “You have every right to be angry with us.”

“I’m not angry with ‘us.’ I am furious with you, after you sat across a desk from me, and we supposedly worked out an accord. Not to mention that your people have been lying to mine from day one.”

“Fine. The truth, then.”

“The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God.”

Vog’t nodded. “My world is in the midst of a persistent insurgency based on differing views of our shared religion. What happened at—” A string of unintelligible sounds came out. “Was an affront to us all but unfortunately nothing new. They have gained support over the last two decades and wish to overthrow the elected government.”

“And install fundamentalists?”

“Yes.”

“My own people dealt with such things hundreds of years ago.” David narrowed his eyes. “I fail to understand why you didn’t tell us this.”

“Because of the broader implications. The root cause of this strife is the third planet from our star. The movement wants to wipe them from the galaxy, as they almost destroyed us three thousand rotations ago.”

David’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. My God… we’re in the middle of an internecine battle between two populations that hate each other. “What? And you didn’t think that was something we’d be interested in?” He forced himself to count to three and cool the rage within.

“I’m sorry, General Cohen. We made this up as we went along.”

“Once you start lying, one lie forces another, then another… until no one remembers what the truth was anymore.”

“Yes.” Vog’t’s eyes went to the floor.

“So rewind, and give me the truth from the top.”

“The third planet is populated by a species that is an offshoot of ours. There was a time when we had more advanced technology than either of our worlds possesses currently. At some point, a schism opened between them, and a terrible war was fought.”

“Sending everyone back to the stone age?” David asked.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“Human expression. It means both species were devastated.”

“Yes. It took thousands of rotations to rebuild. We… don’t know how many times this has repeated except that it’s more than once.”

David’s jaw dropped. Hashem, have mercy on them. “And your population knows this?”

“Yes.” Vog’t nodded. “We exist in a perpetual state of hatred for one another. There is no avoiding the subject. The insurgency is in direct response to our lack of military action against the Zavlot.”

“You lack the technology to attack them,” David replied. “It would take your ships a month to get there, and there’s not enough of them to execute a first strike and protect a retaliation.”

Vog’t pursed her lips. “I’m sure you detected our orbiting missile systems?”

“Yes.”

“They’re offensive in nature. We have miniaturized our fission engines and can propel those warheads at high speeds.”

The implication washed over David. They’ve put their entire technology base into finding ways to kill each other in large numbers quickly. The situation infuriated him, yet the history of humanity held similar events. What do I do here? David was a man of the law, and more than that, he believed in the innate nature of right and wrong. He was used to applying black-and-white moral judgments, especially when fighting a defensive war against a communist empire hellbent on interstellar domination, but in the current situation, he felt at a loss. It’s not like I’ve never faced gray areas before.

“I take it both sides have this ability?”

“That’s what our intelligence service believes. Along with kinetic accelerators.”

Mass drivers. Lovely. David sat back, processing the new information.

“What… will you do now?”

“My first objective is to interrogate the prisoners we recovered.”

“Our security—”

“They attacked us. They will answer to us.” And we will gain multiple points of corroboration or a different perspective from the government. David felt additional information was valuable, regardless of its source.

“You won’t get anything out of them without physical coercion, General.”

David blinked. “Is that a euphemism for torture?”

“My translator didn’t get that. Could you repeat?”

Don’t use the five-credit words. Right. “Is that a nice way of saying you have to beat them for information?”

“Yes.” Vog’t shifted as her lips formed a frown. “It’s distasteful but the only way to deal with fanatics.”

“Torture is not acceptable or allowed under the Canaan Convention on Human and Alien Rights, which the Terran Coalition is a signatory to and by extension binds me and every other soldier in the CDF.”

“Ideals are a nice luxury to have.”

David frowned. These people, they have so much to learn. But don’t we all? I shudder to think what an advanced race would’ve thought of humanity four hundred years ago before the Exodus. “Zupan, it’s more than ideals. Torture doesn’t get reliable information. A subject will do anything to make it stop. Trust me. We’ve spent a lot of time interrogating Leaguers the last thirty years, and we did the same when we fought the Saurian Empire thirty years before that. Establishing a rapport with the prisoner and slowly extracting information as you gain their trust is the best method to get actionable intelligence.”

“And when there’s an imminent attack against civilians?”

“There’s always an edge case. I concede in those such cases, perhaps something additional is warranted. But it’s the sort of thing that should be so rare that one could count five instances in fifty years.”

Vog’t pursed her lips. “I sense a great deal of idealism behind those words, General. You should count yourself lucky that even the thirty years of war with this enemy you’ve continually referenced hasn’t bred it out of you or the other members of your race. We weren’t that fortunate.”

“The prisoners are staying here, and we’re going to question them our way.” David set his jaw. “I propose this: if we’re able to extract meaningful information using our methods, you will at the very least promise to consider how we achieved those results and give a hard look to implementing the same techniques.”

Vog’t nodded begrudgingly. “I suppose there is no harm in such a thing, though I do not believe for a moment you will have any success without harsh measures. Setting that aside, what do you plan to do afterward?”

“Once I can ascertain the seriousness of the threat to my ships and their crews, we will meet again. On my turf. Your intelligence and internal security teams will be allowed to brief us, and we’ll go from there.” The seething anger had departed from David, and he was more annoyed than anything.

“I see.” Vog’t bit her lip. “There is something else we should discuss, in that case.”

“Oh?”

“In an attempt to keep our world from spiraling out of control since you arrived…”

As she kept talking, David’s anger returned rapidly. But more than that, he felt shock unlike any he’d faced.

“They think you’re a prophet?” Ruth asked, her eyes wide. “That’s insane.”

David chuckled. “I told the zupan that, among other things.”

After the vidlink with Vog’t ended, he’d immediately called for a senior staff meeting. Everyone, including Hayworth, was in the deck-one conference room.

“Based on an ancient text written twenty thousand years ago?” Aibek asked with a hiss.

“That about sums it up, XO.” David shrugged. “I asked for and briefly read over a machine translation of the prophecy. It’s very rough but has something to say about visitors helping inspire a new way of doing things on Zeivlot.”

Hayworth cleared his throat. “Poppycock. If you write down enough general predictions for the future, some are bound to come to pass. So-called psychics have been doing this for thousands of years.”

“We’re not here to debate the veracity of what they believe or its accuracy. What matters is the government has encouraged this belief across the entire population. It’s divided them into two camps. One that sees humans and the Lion of Judah in particular as saviors, and the other thinks we’re false prophets—and evil.”

Hanson groaned. “Anyone else miss the simplicity of fighting the League of Sol?”

Chuckles swept the room, and several of them hung their heads.

“And it explains why they wouldn’t let us tap into their media,” Taylor interjected. “We finally got that, sir. I’d suggest staying away from it. You won’t be happy.”

“Probably a good idea, Lieutenant.”

Aibek smiled, showing off his double rows of Saurian teeth. “Perhaps you should challenge this leader to blood combat and force her to defend her honor.”

“A pity this isn’t a Royal Saurian Navy vessel,” David quipped. “Doctor, what progress have you made?”

Hayworth frowned and leaned forward, placing his palms on the table. “Not as much as I’d like. There’s likely nothing further to be done without continued access to the artifact.”

“Do you have a hypothesis, Doctor?”

“Only that I believe the artifact is a machine. How it works and, more specifically, whether it was a malfunction or someone on the planet used it to bring us here, I cannot possibly speculate on.”

“So what?” Ruth interjected. “We need to find a control console for it?”

Hayworth chuckled. “It’s not that easy, young lady. Who knows what type of control system the beings who built it used? I wouldn’t be surprised in the least if it used a direct neural interface.”

While David knew Hayworth was right, the dwindling number of options left them facing the idea that it would be months if not years or decades before they could figure out the alien technology. If we can decipher it at all, to say nothing of being allowed to. Though he had threatened Vog’t with military force to gain access to the obelisk, that option didn’t exist. CDF regulations prohibited such an action, as did David’s basic morality and his faith.

“We’ll have to stay the course here. It’s the only path I can see to getting home.”

“Aside from a decades-long trip across the vastness of intergalactic space,” Hayworth said with a smirk. “That’s always an option.”

“Not a serious one,” David replied.

“We could probably cobble together cryotubes for the crew and run with a skeleton staff.”

David turned and eyed the doctor. “You’ve been working on plan B.”

“I’m a scientist. I always have a plan B. And C.”

The idea of putting everyone into cryosleep had occurred to David not long after they’d figured out where the Lion of Judah had ended up. But most of the people we know will either be dead or aged fifty years, even assuming we could make it back that way. They also had the vexing problem of not carrying enough antimatter fuel for such a journey. It’s a moot point.

He decided to switch gears. “Demood, what’s the preliminary report on our prisoners?”

“Extremely hostile, sir.” The tough Marine was in his usual spot at the other end of the table. “We’ve had to stun them on several occasions and drug them just to complete a medical workup.”

“To be expected, I suppose. They think we’re the devil.” David snickered ruefully. “I want you to prepare for an interrogation and loop in the G2 shop.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I will be present.”

“Sir, begging the general’s pardon—”

David held up a hand. “This is big enough that I want to see it for myself. That’s not a request.”

“Yes, sir.” Calvin cracked a grin. “No pressure like the brass breathing down your neck.”

“We all have our orders. Any questions, saved rounds, or good-idea-fairy moments?”

Silence was the only reply.

“Good. Let’s get to it. Dismissed.”

As they filed out, David thought back to the last time he’d pulled an unorthodox stunt and how General MacIntosh had reacted. I can still hear him reading me the riot act. He wished more than anything to be in the general's office at that moment. We will find a way home—somehow.

14

In keeping with the Lion of Judah’s “city in space” billing, she had a full brig and interrogation facility belowdecks. While the ship wasn’t designed to hold prisoners long-term, it could in a pinch. Several cells had been converted to a higher security level with additional safeguards after the first incidents with the Zeivlot prisoners.

David, Calvin, and First Lieutenant Toshiaki Yoshino waited in a secure holding area within the brig area for the first detainee to be brought in.

“Are you sure about this, sir?” Calvin asked for what seemed like the hundredth time.

“Yes.”

“I’m just saying—”

“Hey, we’ve fought Leaguers hand to hand before. You know I can handle myself.” David gave an exasperated shake of the head. “Now, drop it.”

Yoshino held up a stun rod. “If this guy gets out of hand, I’ll give him the business end.” He’d only been assigned to the Lion of Judah shortly before the accident. A country flag with a red circle on a white background indicated he hailed from the Republic of Japan.

Calvin snickered. “You guys really should let me haul him to an airlock. Thirty seconds, and I’ll have some answers.”

Past experience told David that his friend wasn’t entirely joking. While Calvin had done much to recover from mental trauma, he’d spent decades fighting the League in bloody ground combat.

“We’ll pass on that option.”

The hatch to the interrogation room swung inward, and the first of four masters-at-arms strode in. Between them, the Zeivlot prisoner was frog-marched forward in alloy shackles. The man grunted and made every movement a challenge. Once they’d deposited him in a chair, the guards chained his hands to the table and his legs to the chair. Since both pieces of furniture were bolted to the floor, he wasn’t going anywhere—in theory.

As the masters-at-arms came to attention against the back wall, David said, “Corporal, your team is dismissed. Keep a guard of two posted on the exterior hatch at all times.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

Once the hatch was shut, David made eye contact with the prisoner. He was an unassuming Zeivlot of average height and weight. The man’s nose was perhaps a touch larger than others from his species and its ridges more distinctive. Beyond that, he was perfectly normal except for the absolute hatred radiating from his eyes. Staring, David felt as if hell itself could be seen through them. It’s like looking into the abyss. The feeling gave him an involuntary chill.

“Do you understand where you are?” Yoshino asked.

The prisoner spit in his direction. The glob of saliva missed and splattered on the floor. A string of words that weren’t translated by their devices came out.

Other species know how to curse too. David smirked. “I don’t think he’s happy to see us.” He pulled out a chair and dropped into it. “Let’s be very clear about something, Mr. Whatever-Your-Name-Is. Attacking Coalition Defense Force military personnel is an act of war, which is why you’re sitting in my brig and not in a prison back on your home world.”

Again, the prisoner spewed curses and saliva.

“Hey!” Calvin slammed his hand on the desk, causing such a harsh sound that even the prisoner flinched. “You’re talking to a general. Show some respect, or I will personally rip your arm from its socket.”

David raised an eyebrow but was content to play good cop, bad cop. “Since you refuse to give us your name, let’s start with why you attacked our ground team at the monument.”

At the mention of the obelisk, the prisoner grew more agitated. Again, he lobbed saliva out of his mouth, which landed squarely on David’s cheek.

“Get a spit hood in here, and lock this piece of shit down!” Calvin roared at Yoshino.

It took a moment for David to wipe his face. “Do you want to have a conversation, or would you prefer to have Colonel Demood handle your questioning?”

Calvin hulked over the table, just as David hoped he would. “I would really appreciate it if you would all leave me to this garbage.”

“You defiled holy ground,” the prisoner spat. “It is disgusting that an unclean species would be allowed on our world, but for you to go to our most sacred site…” He wrenched the bonds, barely moving them, as he screamed.

“And what makes us unclean?” David asked. Getting anything out of this guy is a start.

“You are not Zeivlot. You were not made by the Maker. Anything not made by the Maker is unclean… disgusting… worthy only of death.”

David sat back and stared at the prisoner. “How do you know we weren’t made by the Maker? Isn’t it possible both of our species were?”

“You are devils!”

This isn’t getting us much of anywhere. Talking with zealots was a difficult task, regardless of whether they wore a League uniform and believed in communism and the Society of the League above all or if they, like the man before him, were religious extremists who wanted only to kill anyone not like them. David had the sudden realization that, but for the grace of God, Earth would’ve ended up populated by people just like the one in front of him. And perhaps the Terran Coalition as well. I need to change this up.

A sudden idea came to David, and he turned to Yoshino. “Lieutenant, your tablet, please.”

Yoshino handed the computing device over. “Of course, sir.”

It took David a few minutes to get the split screen he wanted—a view of the Tetragrammaton on the obelisk and a page from the Torah. He laid the tablet in front of the prisoner. “As you can see, lettering from one of our languages is found on your holiest object. That word is one of our words for God. Our Maker.”

The prisoner stared at the device. His eyes narrowed, and for a split second, David thought he was going to crack. His jaw dropped before he let out a snarl. “Lies! Fakes! You do not come from the Maker! This is the deceiver at work!” Again, spit sprayed from his mouth.

Not quite, but he was close. “Lieutenant Yoshino, get another tablet, and pull a live feed from our imaging system. I’d like our guest to see it. Be sure to zoom in on the area with the Hebrew script.”

Yoshino nodded. “Yes, sir. Uh, sir, a reminder that the intelligence analysis system is considered classified at the top-secret level with the Echelon Five code word.”

David spread his hands out on the table and smiled at the intelligence officer. “And since Canaan is more than four million light-years away, I’m the closest thing to a declassification authority there is out here, Lieutenant. Now, kindly do as I ordered.”

“Yes, sir.” Yoshino gulped and scurried away.

David stared down the prisoner, making no moves. The effect was most unnerving, as the man’s eyes were like a dead codfish’s. David continued to feel as if he were staring into the soul of a monster.

Finally, Yoshino returned. “As you ordered, sir,” he said as he thrust the device into David’s hands.

“Excellent.” He flipped it around and showed it to the alien. “As you can see, this is a live shot.”

The man gaped as the image shifted farther down, zooming past the security troops and clean-up teams on-site, and finally focused on a section of the obelisk and enhanced it until the Hebrew text was readily visible.

“Take all the time you need to compare the images.” David leaned back and crossed his arms. “As you can see, they’re identical.”

In every interrogation, those performing it could tell when their subject had broken. Usually, body language escalated until the detainee finally caved. The prisoner before them was no different. His facade cracked as he glanced at David, Calvin, and Yoshino.

“You worship the Maker? You are people… of the holy book?”

“Yes,” David replied. He recalled his words to Vog’t. Establish a rapport and gain trust.

The prisoner tried to put his head in his hands, but the chains wouldn’t allow it. Instead, he wailed. “We committed a mortal sin, killing seekers of the Maker.”

“You didn’t kill any of us,” Calvin interjected.

Good, he’s on the right track. David directed the most surreptitious of nods toward his Marine commander. “Only Zeivlot security forces.”

“They are of no consequence in the struggle,” the man sneered. “They choose their lot with the unbelievers and heretics.”

“We’re not of this world.” David leaned forward. “So we don’t understand the political situation. Zupan Vog’t has been less than forthcoming. Perhaps you could help us understand.”

“She is the worst!” the prisoner thundered. “She makes peace with the—” Again, the translator cut out. “They are unbelievers who deserve a fiery death. We have the means to strike, yet she does nothing!” Spit flew out the sides of his mouth.

“Are you saying you want a war with the other planet in this solar system?” Calvin asked.

“Not a war.” The man’s eyes narrowed. “We want to cleanse their lands with fire until none are left, and the abomination of their existence is erased.”

David fought down the urges to strike him across the face or vomit. This is what hate looks like, boiled down and reduced to its pure form. He found it disgusting yet kept a neutral expression. “Perhaps we can assist you. The Lion of Judah has weapons far more potent than either of your respective worlds has. With our help, you would have a decisive advantage.”

“You would join our cause?”

“I would. That’s why I didn’t allow you and your compatriots to be taken by Zeivlot security. The zeal of your actions was the mark of a righteous being.” Bile rose in David’s throat.

The prisoner’s lips curled into a smile. “It is such a wonderful thing to meet a like-minded believer.”

“Give us your communications frequency and encryption keys. We’ll make contact and reunite you with them.” Strike while the iron is hot.

“Yes, brother.”

David glanced at Yoshino. “Take our guest down to the intelligence area, and get methods to talk to his friends locked into our system.” He turned back toward the prisoner. “I think now would be a good time to know your name. Such things are important to humans. I am David Cohen.”

The man regarded him for a moment. “Gan’t Adrhut. It is agreeable to know you.”

“I trust that full restraints will no longer be required?”

Adrhut nodded. “I give you my word of honor that I will behave as a child of the Maker on this… whatever this is.”

“It’s a starship with ten thousand crewmen,” David replied before switching off the translation device in the room. “Lieutenant, call the master-at-arms in here, and get this thing out of my sight before I have him tossed out the nearest airlock.”

“Yes, sir.” Yoshino popped the hatch open and motioned in the guards, who unshackled the Zeivlot from the table.

As they were frog-marching the prisoner out, Calvin leaned in. “Strong words coming from you, sir. Nicely performed.”

The hatch slammed shut, and David shook his head. “Not a performance, Cal.” His cheeks heated. “Killing innocent people and claiming God told you to disgusts me more than even Leaguers can.”

“I’ve got no problem with putting either group down.”

David snorted. “I’m serious. Leaguers don’t know better. They’re raised in a society that banishes any ‘wrong thinking’ and puts anyone who strays off the path laid out by the political commissars in a reeducation camp. These guys, on the other hand…” He bit his lip. “Take the word of God and twist it to be a tool of destruction. I feel like I’m on solid ground to say that whatever holy text these aliens have, as long as it does flow from God, doesn’t advocate killing innocents or strapping bombs to themselves to blow others up as they go out in a blaze of glory.”

“Yeah, I guess, sir. I’m not really up on alien religions.”

“Look at the Saurians. Yes, they’re a warrior race. But if one reads the text associated with their Prophet, it’s made clear repeatedly that they should only use their martial prowess against evil.” David shrugged. “Not that they always followed that, but we could probably do a better job following the Torah, the Bible, and the Koran too. The point stands. If we read the text, it’s a guide for our lives.”

Calvin was silent for a few moments. “What are you going to do, sir? Drop us down on these assholes and make a statement?”

“I wish it were that simple.” David grinned. “It would be nice to erase them all from the face of the universe, but for now, I’ll settle for having a bargaining chip to use with Vog’t. We need to get Dr. Hayworth back on site at the obelisk and find a way home.”

“Amen, sir.”

“I’ll be in my day cabin.”

David had decided to sit on the newly gained intelligence a few days and let Vog’t stew. Nothing like putting some pressure on a politician to make them crack at the right time. He cranked through what little paperwork he had as a way to get his mind off the situation.

An hour later, a knock came at the hatch.

“Yes?”

It swung open, and Doctor Hayworth appeared. “Do you have a few minutes, General?”

The doctor’s manner seemed odd, more formal than usual, and David thought an important topic must be at hand.

“Of course, Doctor. Please come in and have a seat.”

After shutting the hatch, Hayworth shuffled over to the chair and sat. He stared straight ahead. “You and I haven’t always seen eye to eye, but I have the utmost respect for what you do, General Cohen.”

This is different. “Thank you, Doctor. I hope you know the same is true in reverse.”

“I do, though I enjoy our debates.” Hayworth’s mouth remained tight. “But today, I feel the need to tell you that you’ve screwed up badly.”

David blinked.

“You and, by extension, everyone else in all seven Terran Coalition vessels here are meddling in the evolution of an alien species. That is not your place or mine.”

“Doctor—”

“We’ve always spoken candidly, General. I must do so now. I should’ve done so earlier, and I regret not being a stronger voice when this race was first discovered. If this continues, we could very well see this entire species destroy itself, either by mass civil unrest and the destruction of their society or by a war with the other planet in the solar system. The entire thing is a powder keg, to use your terminology. And we are the spark that sets it off.”

David leaned back and ran Hayworth’s words through his mind a few times. He chose his words carefully. “Doctor, we’re in uncharted territory here. Alone, cut off from all support, with a ticking clock for consumable supplies. Maybe we should’ve pulled out once we realized the aliens weren’t as technologically advanced as we’d hoped and expected.” He set his jaw. “But it’s too late for that now. We’re involved, and if we disappear now, there is no counter-balance to the upheaval in their society.”

Hayworth narrowed his eyes as he frowned. “This is why we do not involve ourselves with technologically inferior cultures. The more advanced typically destroy the lesser because of the overwhelming nature of our tech. If you want to inject faith into it, our technology comes across as divine intervention or magic.”

“We’re not talking about a preindustrialized or even pre-scientific-method society that views an SF-106 Phantom as the chariot of the gods.” Such a civilization would typically be off-limits, and while a few alien species that fit the criteria did exist in the Sagittarius arm, most had achieved FTL. Even if some were behind the Terran Coalition’s technology level.

“No, they just view you as a god.”

David snickered. “Correction… a prophet. Which is not God.”

Hayworth let out a sigh. “There is a reason why the Coalition has a specialized Far Survey Corps and oodles of experts that deal with xenoanthropology, General. We’re woefully ill-equipped. Couple that with your desire—even need—to fix problems you find along the way, and what we end up with is a recipe for disaster.”

The doctor’s words stung, mainly because David did want to improve every situation he found himself in. That’s why I’m a soldier in the first place. To defend my country and, moreover, do good. Perhaps it was why some of the situations in which he’d acted against orders to do what was morally right were among the things he was most proud of.

“We might be ill-equipped. I’ll give you that. But we can be a positive influence here. Need I remind you that whatever damage has been caused has already happened, and we’re not going home unless we figure out the obelisk.”

Hayworth regarded him for a few moments, thoughtfully stroking his chin. “Yes, the artifact.” His tone turned smug. “I’m surprised that, as a man of both science and faith, as shocking as that combination is, you haven’t seen the obvious conclusion staring at you.”

“And what would that be, Doctor?”

“That it’s proof positive there is no God. Only some race of hyper-advanced aliens that once seeded the galaxy, probably with life as we know it, and hardwired religion into us.” He shrugged. “I would assume so that we didn’t destroy ourselves, though it didn’t seem to work out as they intended.”

Before the Third Battle of Canaan, such a line of attack would’ve caused him, at the least, great questioning. But after everything he’d been through, his foundation was unmovable. “As a man of faith, I take it to mean that an advanced race somehow got their hands on what different cultures—including cultures that didn’t exist yet—called God and wrote it all down. Why, I don’t know. But it doesn’t shake my faith, Doctor.”

“What’s the line between faith and silliness?”

“Something tells me you’re about to explain it.”

Hayworth chuckled. “If the most significant scientific discovery ever made by any species in the Sagittarius Arm isn’t enough to sway you, then I must question what, if anything, would.”

David ran the doctor’s comment through his mind again. I suppose he’s got a point, but it cuts both ways. “And if God appeared in front of you and declared Himself while performing miracles?”

“I would assume it was a hyperadvanced alien capable of doing such acts through technology or evolutionary advancements.”

“Would there be any means that being could use to convince you?”

“Probably not.” Hayworth grinned. “This is where you tell me I’m just as stubborn as you, isn’t it?”

“Well, yes.” David chuckled. “I doubt I could shake your faith, and before you protest, we both have faith. Mine is in Hashem. Yours is in science.”

The older scientist grunted. “I would object to the formation of that hypothesis but will concede you do have a point, on the main. That is secondary, though, to the continued negative effects we’re having on this species.”

When Hayworth had first been assigned to the Lion of Judah three years prior, David had struggled to categorize him as an asset. That had long since passed. Perhaps something to do with being older and wiser. “Do you have any recommendations, Doctor? Besides jumping out five minutes from now.”

“Avoid taking sides in their internal conflict, and if afforded a chance to address this prophet business directly in a public forum, take it—and deny you are loudly.”

David chuckled. “I doubt the zupan’s going to let me anywhere near a microphone that isn’t censored heavily, but I appreciate the thought. My short-term goal is to get us back on the obelisk site, and I think we got enough intel off the terrorists to force her hand. Beyond that, I’m still flying by the seat of my pants.”

“The best ethical course, from my perspective, is to jump out and find a planet where we can build a civilization,” Hayworth replied. “But I confess I have no desire to do so. Instead, I’ll keep working the technology angle as long as it's tenable. Again, I urge you to limit our interactions and try to repair the damage already done.”

“As always, Doctor, I appreciate your insights and efforts.”

Hayworth snorted. “Are you dismissing me, General?”

“Well, I do have things to wrap up, and your point has been delivered loud and clear along with suggestions for improvement. So yes.” David flashed a grin.

“Harumph.” Dr. Hayworth pushed himself to his feet. “I’ll be seeing you, General.”

David watched as he made his way out of the day cabin then went back to his paperwork. While David didn’t agree with all the doctor’s conclusions, he couldn’t argue that the human presence wasn’t disruptive to the Zeivlot species. One thing’s for sure. I’m going to spend some extra time in the synagogue tonight.

15

Zeivlot Secure Research Facility

Southern Continent

6 January, 2464

Bo’hai eased back in her chair. Her eyes were crossing after she’d spent the last three hours staring at a monitor along with Lieutenant Rodell and a few other linguists. They’d been slowly mapping out more advanced words in the English and Zeivlot languages while cross-programming the Terrans’ translation matrix. The work was slow and mentally exhausting. Though I find it quite fascinating and fun.

“I think I’m about beat for the day.” Rodell rubbed his eyes. “Ten straight hours of this, and we’re about to hit words I didn’t realize existed.”

“Perhaps it is time for a break,” Bo’hai replied. “Do you think we can get the rest of the lexicon finished within the next four days?”

Rodell snickered. “Was that a serious question or satire?”

“Both?” She laughed lightly.

“Try four years. There’re over a million words in the English language and probably more like one and a half million. I take that back—try forty years.”

Everyone laughed.

One of the other linguists called out, “Do you think humans will be able to learn our language?”

Rodell grimaced. “I’m not sure. I’ve been trying hard, but my pronunciation is poor, and the required clicking is difficult.” He shrugged. “Humans don’t seem to have the mouth dexterity to talk and click simultaneously. Though… I can talk and annoy people at the same time.”

She’d come to appreciate the human officer’s humor, though some of the concepts he used still escaped her understanding. “That could probably be said for all of us. Well, if we’re done for the day, would you care to have dinner outside the lab compound tonight?”

“Boy, would I ever. I want to try that restaurant that sells those little meat-stick things.”

Bo’hai raised an eyebrow. “Again?”

“Hey, they taste like chicken, and we’re out of chicken up there on the Lion, so I’m craving meat.”

“There are far better places to obtain meat, but I’m happy to take you back there.”

“Great.”

It took some time for the other researchers to clear out and for Bo’hai, Rodell, and their ever-present security minders to reach the outside of the installation. Zeivlot utilized a mix of combustion engine and electrically powered vehicles that had few autopilot capabilities. Even those were limited to major highways and required manual operation everywhere else.

Rodell and Bo’hai climbed into the passenger compartment. The driver doubled as their bodyguard, though it felt as if the agent’s job was to monitor what the human might say more than anything else.

“Don’t forget your head covering,” she remarked.

“It doesn’t do anything about my nose.”

She smirked. “I know.”

“Just pointing out it's still obvious I’m not from this planet.”

“Which is why we can only stay for a few minutes to avoid a mad rush to meet you.”

Rodell shifted in the seat as the vehicle sped through the main gate and out into the city. “Seeing different species on our worlds is so common that I’d say it’s routine.”

“Even if you haven’t seen that particular type of alien before?”

“Yeah. I mean, I might do a double take if I saw a Tash-vakal.” Rodell grinned. “But then again, we travel to different stars routinely. Much like I would expect it’s common for your citizens to travel to different continents, we travel to other planets with ease.”

Bo’hai tilted her head. The analogy was apt. I wonder if there’s a race that travels to other galaxies as simply as the humans move about theirs. “It would be interesting to see another world… another star rising over the horizon on a far-distant sphere.”

“You sound like a born explorer.”

Before Bo’hai could reply, the electric vehicle skidded across the pavement. She glanced up in time to see another car slam into the side of theirs, spinning it around like a top. The inertia drove her head into the window with a sickening crunch as the vehicle came to a stop. Her view went blurry, but she could make out armed men rushing toward them.

The driver struggled to free himself from the safety belt that went across his shoulder and waist. He wasn’t fast enough. Multiple bullets burst through the glass window and into his body.

Bo’hai screamed as blood splattered on her, the adrenaline momentarily pulling her out of shock. The door on her side of the car was wrenched open, and rough, armor-wearing figures appeared. A bright-red burst erupted on the forehead of the first man, and a split second later, she realized the loud bang she’d just heard was from the driver’s weapon.

Rodell held the smoking pistol and squeezed the trigger twice more, felling the attacker. He repeatedly fired at figures just beyond the door. “Get down!”

Scrambling to comply, Bo’hai disengaged her safety belt and threw herself to the floor. “I didn’t realize you could fight,” she mumbled.

“We’re all trained how to,” Rodell replied, his voice tight. He exhaled and inhaled sharply. “I’m going to see if—”

Rodell’s door crumpled inward with a loud bang and threw him to the side, though his safety belt held. The pistol flew out of his hand and skittered across the floor to near Bo’hai’s head.

Before either of them could react, armed attackers pulled Rodell out of the vehicle, beating him with rubberized batons. As Bo’hai tried to get up, another Zeivlot stuck a stun device against her neck and engaged it. Extraordinary pain swept through her body, and as consciousness faded, she was briefly aware of being dragged out of the floorboard.

Vog’t glanced up from her computing device when the door to her office swung open without warning. Several aides along with military personnel rushed in like a wave. This isn’t good. She laid her tablet aside and gave them her full attention as they lined up in front of her desk.

“Zupan, I apologize for disturbing you in this manner, but we have a serious situation.”

“Out with it,” Vog’t replied.

Her lead aide cleared his throat. “There’s been an attack. The same extremist faction that assaulted the humans has kidnapped Lieutenant Rodell along with one of our linguists. Many of our security agents were killed.”

Of all the things Vog’t had expected to hear, that wasn’t one of them. Her mouth opened then closed as she tried to figure out what to say next. Finally, she got her wits back. “How? The facility they’re working at has layers of security. I saw the plans myself. It would take a small army to breach it.”

The two officers exchanged glances. One, War Leader Belgat, the overall military advisor for the planet, focused on Vog’t. “Madam Zupan, I am afraid that much like the last attack, they had inside help, and it occurred just outside the base as the human was being taken to a restaurant. It pains me to admit this to you, and it brings shame on our people.”

Are there terrorists everywhere we turn? Vog’t kept her expression neutral, though she wanted to tear the room apart. “Where are they now?”

“En route to the Tophae Mountains. They’re probably headed to one of the known safe havens in that area. We’re preparing an interdiction mission but want to wait until the aircraft they’re on lands.”

Vog’t held up her hand. “We will take no action.”

Gasps swept the room.

“But… why?”

“Because a human was kidnapped. We must inform General Cohen and the Lion of Judah immediately.”

Belgat spoke up. “Zupan, the humans will not react well to this. Let us save him first, then you can present our having solved the problem. That warship outclasses us in every respect. If they were to turn on our planet…” His face paled. “We cannot hope to stand against them.”

The office became very quiet, and Vog’t ticked off several seconds as she gathered her thoughts. “War Leader, would you say the humans possess better ground-attack technology than we do?”

“Without a doubt.”

“And if the roles were reversed, and it were your man, how would you react if he was killed in a rescue attempt you knew nothing of and could’ve assisted in?”

Belgat gritted his teeth. “I would be furious.”

“Does anyone here want to anger a warship larger than anything to ever grace the oceans of this planet or its skies, with technology hundreds of rotations more advanced than ours?”

Several of them shook their heads.

“I’m glad we can come to a consensus.”

“But—”

Vog’t shook her head angrily. “There are no buts. I will inform General Cohen and ask what he wishes us to do. And pray they don’t hold us accountable for this… abomination.”

“Yes, Zupan.”

“Do we yet know who helped the extremists?”

A civilian at the back of the room, from the ministry of justice, spoke. “Yes, Madam Zupan. We’re holding multiple individuals who provided access and are looking into others.”

“I want them prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. Given that this attack directly impacts our relationship with an alien species… treason appears to be justified.”

The man shifted uncomfortably. Justice issues were typically outside the purview of the chief executive. “Yes, Zupan.”

“That will be all. Have a direct video link between me and General Cohen engaged as soon as possible.”

As her advisors scurried out the door and away from the office, Vog’t put her head in her hands. Can this get any worse? Is the Maker testing us? In the back of her mind, she flagged that hundreds of years of either embracing or coddling extremists throughout their society had gotten them to where they were. It just so happens that I’m the one left holding the bag. Maker help us all.

16

David glanced up to see the intercom on his desk blinking. He’d been reading the latest from Hayworth’s investigation of the artifact for the last hour, repeatedly stopping to look up words he didn’t recognize. The man is nothing if not thorough. Little progress had been made, but Hayworth continued to advance their understanding of the device. He had some rather compelling theories regarding the obelisk being hollow inside. The report suggested the interior might be a special reaction chamber capable of creating the negative energy that had brought the Lion to Sextans B.

I suppose I’d better get that. David pressed the button to engage the link. “Yes?”

Taylor’s voice came out of the speaker. “Sir, Zupan Vog’t is insisting on speaking to you immediately.”

“Regarding?”

“She won’t say, sir. Only that she must get in touch with you.”

“Put her through to my tablet.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

David pulled up the vidlink application and waited. Seconds later, Vog’t’s unsmiling face appeared. Her eyes were bloodshot, and he could see tear streaks down her cheeks. What on Canaan?

“Can you hear me?”

“Yes, Zupan. Please, go ahead.”

Vog’t pursed her lips. “I have just been informed that there was an attack on the research center where our linguists and Lieutenant Rodell were working together.”

David’s heart skipped a few beats. No. Hashem, please, don’t let him be dead. I don’t want another soul I failed to save on my conscience.

“He was captured along with one of our researchers.”

Shock quickly gave way to anger as it boiled up inside David’s chest. At least he’s still alive. “Captured by whom?”

“We believe by the same sect of terrorists who attacked you.”

“Why? What have we done to these people?”

Vog’t looked away. “You’ve done nothing. They view you as… Honestly, I don’t know how they view you. Maybe they think you’re heretics. Perhaps your man was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. We don’t know.”

“Have there been demands?”

“They want several imprisoned leaders released.”

“Of course they do,” David snapped. “That’s how terrorists work back in the Sagittarius Arm too. What do you plan to do?”

“I wanted to ask you that first, General Cohen.”

Part of him was impressed she’d thought to ask for his input, while the other half figured it was a political ploy to gain favor and technology. “Let’s cut the crap. You want us to save Lieutenant Rodell and, in so doing, send a message that there’s nowhere these guys can hide because our technology is so superior. Does that about sum it up?”

Vog’t twisted her face and seemed to nearly snarl. “I’m not so mercenary as you make me out to be, General. My first concern is to get your officer back.”

“And why’s that, Zupan? Afraid we’ll rain hell itself down on your planet?” Emotion began to take over.

“No. Because you came here and have expanded our understanding of the universe. Also, if he isn’t rescued and is, Maker forbid, killed by these extremists, my world will likely descend into a religious war that will shed blood for a decade.”

David leaned back and stared at the small camera port on the top of the tablet. He counted to three before speaking. “You lied to us again. How am I supposed to trust anything you say when you can’t tell me basic facts?”

“It was not a lie, General. We simply did not share the entirety of the situation.”

“Ah, yes… legalism.” David licked his lips. “There’s a reason why our courts have an expansive oath one must take before testifying. You must swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.”

Vog’t was silent.

“I’m surprised your scriptures don’t forbid lying. I can think of dozens of verses from the Torah—the Jewish holy book—that expressly forbid lying and promise judgment to those who engage in it.”

“You speak as if you do not understand the concept of being at war, General,” Vog’t replied.

“The Terran Coalition was at war for over thirty years with the League of Sol, Zupan. I personally fought in that war for twenty of those years, so I assure you I understand the concept quite well.”

“And you would still say that stretching the truth or omitting a fact is always wrong?”

David pursed his lips. Hashem only knows how many times I’ve done exactly what she described, though I’d like to think I could say it was to deceive the enemy with a straight face. “In this situation, yes. I’d have insisted on providing Marine escort for all CDF personnel on the surface… and we wouldn’t be here right now.”

“Did your people face the specter of fusion fire raining down on them at any given moment?”

It took David a few seconds to process her question. “While the Terran Coalition certainly possesses high-yield weaponry capable of, well, glassing the surface of a planet… it is our stated policy that we will never use weapons of mass destruction on civilians.”

Vog’t stared at him incredulously. “Even in the face of certain defeat or an enemy using them on you?”

“We haven’t had to face that. The alien races around us don’t use such tactics, and the League wanted to conquer us for use as forced labor, not wipe out a branch of humanity. Probably because they’re human too.” David pondered his words. I’m not telling her the whole truth. “It’s worth noting that there were those who disagreed with this policy and wanted to, as you put it, rain down fusion fire on the League’s most populated worlds.”

“But they were overruled?”

“Some of them acted against orders and tried to carry out such an attack.” Memories of fighting General Erhart came to the forefront. Firing on my fellow soldiers was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. “We stopped them. My ship was at the front of the battle.”

Vog’t licked her lips. “I see.”

“When one adopts the tactics of their enemy, they become just like the enemy. In the words of Marcus Aurelius… the best revenge is to be unlike him who performed the injury.”

“Who was this human?”

David cracked a smile. “A Roman emperor who lived about two thousand years ago. He wrote a book that is still studied and emulated. I have a copy of it on my tablet.

“If you learn nothing from us but one thing, Zupan, let it be this: blind hatred solves nothing. Whatever has happened between your people and the Zavlot, who I remind you are virtually the same race as yours, must be left in the past. Both planets must find a way to make peace with what happened and move forward. If you can’t do that, you’ll repeat the same cycle until there’s no one left.”

“We can’t even convince our own people not to kill one another because our government is unwilling to launch a full-scale war against the Zavlots, General.” Vog’t shook her head. “I envy you and your people. I wish we were more alike.”

David leaned forward. “You can be. Set an example, and lead them. Now, do you know where these terrorists are holding Lieutenant Rodell?”

“I believe we do. The linguist that was taken with him had a tracking chip implanted in her. It's standard practice for all high-ranking government officials.”

“Would you object to our Marines leading a rescue mission?”

“I was about to ask if you’d like to.” Vog’t smoothed her shirt out. “What’s that saying I’ve heard from several humans about intelligent minds processing things the same way?”

“Great minds think alike.” David pursed his lips. “I’ll need you to send us every scrap of intelligence you have and authorize a full-scale insertion. We will deploy overwhelming force on this operation.”

“Whatever you need, General Cohen. I would like to offer our support in any role you deem it necessary for.”

The anger David had felt at the beginning of the conversation had mostly abated. While gripped with concern for Rodell, he couldn’t help but feel sorry for the Zeivlots. They didn’t appear to be bad people, simply misguided and governed by an irrational hatred for another group. Both parties had committed unspeakable horrors to one another over the centuries, and it would take a universe-shattering event to break that cycle. And beyond telling them they need to improve the situation, I have little to offer in the way of concrete steps I can take to help. The realization brought him shame. “Have your forces guard the perimeter, and we’ll handle the rest.”

“It will be done.”

“Once this is over, Zupan, you and your government have to do something to alter the situation. I will volunteer the services of the Lion of Judah to act as an intermediary.”

“While I welcome that offer, General, the sad fact is we have a larger problem, and that’s our population wants payback at any cost for the last time our world was destroyed.”

David blew out a breath. Hayworth was right—this situation is beyond sticky. “Be that as it may, something has to change. If you’ll excuse me, I need to get the Marines going and start the planning process for an operation. Don’t forget the intelligence transfer.”

“I had a question, if I may.”

“Of course.”

“We’ve noticed that most of your personnel wish each other something called Godspeed at the end of most conversations. The translation matrix doesn’t have a corresponding equivalent in our language, so what does it mean?”

“It’s a human saying that dates back hundreds if not thousands of years. At its core, it’s a wish that God will grant you success. It evolved into something said to a traveler, hoping they would get to their destination safely and speedily. And it eventually became something associated with the Coalition Defense Force. Call it an unofficial motto.”

Vog’t pursed her lips. “Thank you for explaining that.” She let out a breath. “Then I will wish you and your troops Godspeed in the task that lies ahead.”

“Thank you, Zupan.” David tilted his head respectfully. “I wish you Godspeed as well. Until we speak again. Cohen out.”

David leaned back and briefly closed his eyes. I could use a vacation. So could everyone else. He wasn’t entirely sure what would happen next, but Calvin and his expeditionary force were some of the best in the Terran Coalition Marine Corps. But what’s the end goal? We can’t intervene on a planetary scale. The idea to better equip and provide intelligence to the Zeivlots briefly entered his mind before he discounted it. It would only lead to having our boots on the ground. And that was entirely out of the question. David let out a sigh before pressing a button on the intercom. “Get Colonel Demood up here ASAP. There will be an intelligence package coming in from the planet. Send it to me as soon as you have it, Lieutenant.”

“Yes, sir,” Taylor replied as the speaker crackled. “Anything else, sir?”

“Not at this time.”

Staring at the ceiling, David took a moment to offer a prayer in Hebrew before starting to wrap his mind around the tactical problem they faced. It was going to be a long afternoon.

Down in Marine country, Calvin stood inside a weapons storage area that doubled as a planning area. A holoprojector displayed real-time imaging of the terrorist compound, complete with infrared sensing and life-signs detection. Several others, including his senior enlisted Marine, Master Gunnery Sergeant Reuben Menahem, Taylor, and First Lieutenant Yoshino were grouped around it.

Dozens of Zeivlots had been detected around the area, which was in a remote and rugged area of mountains thousands of kilometers from major metropolitan areas.

Calvin stroked his chin. “You know, why is that regardless of whether it’s in the Milky Way or this new galaxy we’re in, whatever it’s called—”

“Sextans B, sir,” Menahem interjected with a chuckle.

“Yeah, that. Why is it that when insurgents or terrorists show up on the scene, they’re always hiding out in the middle of freaking nowhere?”

Amid a round of snickers, one of the Marines in the back yelled, “Because it’s easier to hide there, sir.”

Calvin grunted. “I’m counting thirty-plus hostiles. Anyone disagree?”

“A few of those could be hostages,” Yoshino said.

“Perhaps, Master Guns. But I’m only certain about two of them. That linguist with the tracker and our man Rodell.” Calvin gestured to a blinking gold dot. “Seeing as how there’s another life sign right next to the linguist, Bo’hai, my guess is the other life form there is going to be Rodell.”

“It would make things easier, for sure,” Menahem replied.

“It would be nice if we had access to tier-one equipment and especially those indirect fire drones,” Yoshino interjected.

Several Marines glanced at him.

Calvin replied, “Lieutenant, I’ll put my Force Recon company up against any space walker any day. We’ve got the firepower and the kinetic ability to get this done. You get me?”

Yoshino gulped. “No disrespect meant, Colonel.”

Calvin regarded him for a moment before nodding. “Very well. Master Guns, what do you think about a HALO insertion in power armor, four elements of sixteen Marines each? Two as a blocking force, and two to press the attack.”

“As long as they have overwatch and shuttles standing by, that sounds like a good plan to me, sir. No need to get fancy. We out-tech these guys so badly that it won’t be remotely fair.”

“If I plan a fair fight, I’m doing something wrong,” Calvin replied with a snort.

Laughter rippled across the room.

Taylor cleared his throat. “Don’t we have to assume that when the shooting starts, they’ll kill the hostages?”

“It’s a distinct possibility, Lieutenant.” Calvin pointed at what appeared to be a prisoner holding area at the back of one of the buildings, where Bo’hai’s transponder pinged. “Which is why getting there as fast as possible is our top priority.”

“Rodell’s a damn good officer, sir.” Taylor bit his lip. “He doesn’t deserve to get offed by some crackpot group of extremists from a different galaxy that believes they’re causing Armageddon to start.”

The group lapsed into silence, and most of them stared at the communications officer. Calvin sucked in a breath, first thinking of delivering a tongue-lashing then realizing he would feel the same way if it were one of his Marines. “We’ll get him home. I promise.” Better win this one.

“Thanks, Colonel. What can I do?”

“Well, you’re welcome to pick up a rifle and join in, but I think you’d be better used monitoring comms for us and keeping track of enemy reinforcements. I read over the intel report from the Zeivlots. These guys are well equipped, and there’re a lot of them within the near geographical area, holed up in caves. Personally, I’d be happy to drop a tactical fusion bomb on the entire lot of them the moment we dust off. They want to meet God so badly, let’s arrange a face-to-face meeting.”

“And we won’t be letting you anywhere near the strategic weapons,” Menahem interjected.

Calvin chuckled as he stared at the holoprojector. “Master Guns, set up a kill house in cargo bay five, and start drilling our teams. The general has given me until tomorrow AM to be ready. I want boots on the ground immediately thereafter.”

“Yes, sir.”

“We’ll keep analyzing the imagery, sir,” Yoshino interjected. “Should I send the updates to you or Master Gunnery Sergeant Menahem?”

“Send ’em to the Master Guns, Lieutenant. You’re all dismissed.”

The rest of the team filed out, but Calvin stayed behind, staring at the holoprojector for some time, running through scenario after scenario in his mind and thinking of how the operation could go south. Finally, he put his hands together. Lord, I still don’t talk to you anywhere near as much as I ought to, but I’ve been trying. Ever since we ended up here, though, it’s more complicated than ever. Just watch over us tomorrow, and help my Marines save the hostages. Amen.

17

David had spent most of the evening in his stateroom below decks before getting up at 0430 and going through his morning routine. Even when he was four million light-years from home, the process was so ingrained that he couldn’t stop if he wanted to. Also, sticking to the tried and true would keep his mind focused on what had to be done and not on home.

Aibek arrived on the bridge at 0800 on the dot and dropped into the XO’s chair next to David. “When did you arrive?”

“Oh, almost an hour ago.” David pursed his lips. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“How are the preparations going?”

“Colonel Demood’s about ready. Three shuttles of Recon Marines, overwatch provided by a squadron of Hawker close air support craft. We’ll have additional assets standing by, but that should be more than enough.”

Aibek nodded. “I wish I could join them.”

“Me too.”

“Our place is on the bridge, however, sir.”

“Well, seeing that we’re a very long way from CDF command, technically, we could transfer to the Marines, kit up, and head down.”

“With respect, sir, no, you can’t,” Ruth interjected, turning around. “I would exercise my rights and privileges as third officer to confine you to the ship.”

“You and what army?” David replied with a grin.

Tinetariro cleared her throat. “That would be me, sir.”

David chuckled. “Point taken, Master Chief.”

The intercom on his chair beeped, and he pressed the button to answer.

“Colonel Demood to General Cohen.”

“Go ahead, Colonel.”

“We’re ready to roll down here. Are we clear to engage?”

“Bring Lieutenant Rodell home, and save the rest of the hostages.”

“Roger that, sir.”

“Godspeed, Colonel.”

“To you as well, sir. Demood out.”

The line clicked off, and the sound echoed like a hammer dropped on metal. David let out a breath and stared at his chair’s integrated data panel before returning his gaze to the windows at the front of the bridge. He quietly prayed in Hebrew. Lord, Creator of all things, if it is Your will, please watch over Calvin and those serving under him as they attempt to save Rodell. Please help them complete their mission safely and return home. Amen.

“Conn, Communications,” Taylor said, interrupting David’s thoughts. “The air boss is requesting permission to open the launch tubes, sir.”

“Granted, Lieutenant.”

“Aye, aye, sir. Passing that word back.”

Within a minute, the Lion shuddered a few times as the squadron of stratofighters and Marine assault shuttles roared out of the launch tubes built into the ship's ventral hull. They headed toward the surface and rapidly disappeared from view.

“The Prophet will walk with them.” Aibek sniffed. “Of this, I have no doubt.”

“I hope you’re right, XO.” David had his poker face on, though if he was being honest, he would admit the idea of military action on a planet they knew almost nothing about left him worried for the safety of his people. But he could do nothing about it except watch and wait. And send in the QRF, if needed.

“Conn, Communications. We just got another propaganda transmission from the extremists. They’re threatening to kill all hostages if their demands aren’t met in the next six hours.”

Aibek hissed. “They are about to receive a surprise.”

“That, they are.” David’s gut twisted. This has to work. Period. I’m not losing more people in this galaxy, and I’m sure as heck not losing them to two-bit terrorists riding dune buggies.

Four Terran Coalition Marine Corps combat shuttles streaked into the atmosphere of Zeivlot, burning bright trails across the night sky. Tightly escorted by a squadron of AS-9V stratofighters, the force was locked into the coordinates of the terrorist compound in the remote reaches of the planet’s southern continent.

In the back compartment of the lead shuttle, Calvin sat beside his senior enlisted Marine, Master Gunnery Sergeant Reuben Menahem, as the craft shook, jostling them in their harnesses.

“Feel good to be on the sharp tip again, Colonel?”

“Damn straight, Master Guns. If nothing else, it gets my mind off what my wife is doing back home.”

“At least we’ve got mostly veterans on this op,” Menahem replied. “The drawdowns were scheduled to start when we got back to Canaan.”

Calvin snorted. “Good timing, eh?”

“Something like that, sir.” Menahem closed his eyes and whispered in Hebrew. An Orthodox Jew, he proudly wore the flag of New Israel on his left uniform sleeve.

The shuttle’s intercom came to life with the voice of the pilot. “Thirty seconds to drop point.”

“Time to go, ladies!” Menahem yelled as he disengaged the harnesses. “Two rows! Let’s go!” As he shouted, his voice became a rasp, not unlike every other drill instructor Calvin had known over the years.

After checking his battle rifle one last time, Calvin let the weapon drop into its one-point sling then took position at the front of the second line. It’s been a while since I’ve done this evolution. The back ramp opened downward, giving the entire platoon a bird's-eye view of the dark landscape. With the altitude they were flying—close to twelve kilometers above the surface—no details were visible. Only a few widely scattered lights shone in the night, presumably from buildings in the area.

The rest of the Marines lined up behind him and on the other row.

“Drop, drop, drop,” the pilot intoned.

“Hit it, Marines!” Calvin yelled through his commlink as he stepped forward. Nothing but air greeted him as he spread out his power-armored extremities. He felt a rush that couldn’t be described to someone who hadn’t done it as he hurtled toward the ground at a velocity that wouldn’t just kill him upon impact—it would reduce his body to paste, if he impacted at full force.

“Colonel, it’s been way too long since I’ve done something fun.” Menahem’s voice came through the commlink, which crackled with the sound of rushing air filtering through.

Calvin steadied himself and double-checked his helmet-mounted HUD. Fifty-meters-per-second drop rate. Right on target. Best of all, the entire platoon showed within the drop zone.

“No counting chickens before they hatch, Master Guns. You know about Murphy and his stupid laws.”

Even through his earpieces, with their noise-canceling tech, the whipping wind was loud enough to nearly deafen him.

The ground beckoned as the altitude reading decreased rapidly. “Deploy chute,” a computer voice called.

Calvin waited until the last possible second. “Execute chute deployment,” he ordered while engaging his power armor’s parachute system. A large black rectangular piece of nylon shot out of one of the back panels, and his rate of descent slowed. All around, the other Marines did as well. The HUD did its job, pointing the way toward their objective. “Nice and slow, ladies.”

Swiftly and silently, Calvin hit the ground amid fifteen others and quickly secured his parachute. He double-checked his battle rifle and the suppressor attached to it. Every icon in the platoon flashed green. Outstanding.

“Form on me, Marines. Our target is two hundred meters east. Master Guns, let the Lion know we’re passing checkpoint beta.”

“Roger, sir.”

Darkness surrounded them, but integrated night-vision optics in the Marines' headgear lit up the terrain as clearly as if it were daylight. Calvin marched through the rough mountain pass, sliding down a ravine as the platoon fell in behind him in a double patrol line. For a few minutes, nothing was visible except occasional wildlife.

Suddenly, a group of Zeivlots appeared less than ten meters away. All four carried weapons that looked vaguely like ballistic rifles.

“Tangos dead ahead. Drop ’em,” Calvin whispered as he raised his rifle and sighted down on the nearest hostile. He moved his finger to the trigger and squeezed off a three-round burst. It caught the alien in the chest, killing him instantly. Suppressed battle rifles coughed, and the entire bunch went down hard.

“Where the heck did those guys come from?” Menahem groused as he led a squad of Marines forward.

“Who knows. Probably have little bolt-holes all over the place. That’s what I’d do. Make sure the other platoon leaders know we encountered some resistance,” Calvin replied.

“Yes, sir.”

Calvin picked up the pace, covering the harsh terrain as quickly as possible, with the rest of his men close behind. It took fifteen minutes to get within twenty-five meters of the terrorist compound, as they had to sacrifice speed for stealth.

Once they were in position, with a sniper providing overwatch and the rest of the platoon broken out into fire teams, he cued his commlink. “Demood to platoon leaders. Report readiness.”

Green lights lit up across his HUD.

“Okay, time—”

A series of explosions erupted to the north and were quickly followed by all hell breaking loose. Lights snapped on throughout the compound while shouts in the alien language filled the air.

“Sitrep,” Calvin barked.

“One KIA. Land mines. Antivehicle but triggered by the weight of our suits!” one of the platoon leaders yelled. “Taking small-arms fire from multiple directions.”

“Push up and engage,” Calvin replied.

A roar echoed across the landscape as a group of hoverbikes zipped out of a garage underneath the enemy structure and streaked across the broken ground. Inaccurate ballistic-weapons fire raced from passengers on each bike along with dumb-fire rockets from vantage points across the compound.

Dirt and rocks from an explosion caused by a rocket impact sprayed down on Calvin and a few of the closer Marines. Well-honed combat reflexes kicked in as he brought his battle rifle up, sighted down on the nearest hostile, and squeezed the trigger. A few moments later, one of the drivers fell off the targeted hovercraft, causing the bike to lose control and crash into the ground. The swoosh of a CDF antiarmor missile launch ripped through the air as the warhead blew another craft apart.

“All elements, execute, execute, execute!” Calvin barked. He dropped to one knee long enough to kick in the targeting mode of his HUD. “Demood to Knight overwatch.”

“Go ahead, Colonel,” the commander of the AS-9V squadron replied amid a burst of static.

“I want close-in support immediately, Lieutenant. Engage VTOL mode, and light up anyone without an infrared strobe.”

“Read you five-by-five, Colonel. Charlie flight engaging.”

All around, explosions echoed, and tracer rounds filled the air. The Marines fought back with gritty professionalism, felling their targets while the terrorist force did its worst. The advanced power armor protected against most projectiles, but even it had limits. Unguided rocket blasts and mines wreaked havoc, and two members of the platoon dropped, their life signs flatlining.

As a corpsman rushed to provide aid, Calvin marked targets. Hell was coming, and he would guide it in.

18

The sky went from a pure inky blackness to bright white in an instant as multiple CDF missiles slammed into their targets. Most of the hoverbikes were erased from existence, while several heavy-weapons platforms were destroyed. Calvin maintained overwatch throughout the fusillade, calmly directing the AS-9V Hawker stratofighters in their deadly work.

The flash was replaced by an orange glow from numerous fires as the light faded. Calvin could make out the harsh lines of the compound and some of the building materials. It looks like somebody tossed together a hodgepodge of crap up here. That it wasn’t so different from structures on Terran Coalition frontier planets shocked him, though the architecture, if one could call it that, was different.

“All platoons reporting markedly reduced outgoing fire, sir,” Menahem said over the commlink. He was twenty meters away with a forward fire team.

“Colonel, do you read?” Taylor cut into the feed.

“Affirmative, Lieutenant. A bit busy down here.”

“Thought you might like to know Dr. Hayworth’s calibrated our scientific sensors to assist in imaging. We’ve got a few dozen vehicles of some sort headed toward your position, coming in from all directions. The word’s out about our little party.”

Calvin smirked. “Well, I’ll have to drum up some more party favors, then. Thanks. You and the doc aren’t bad, for comms geeks. Feed that info into the common operating picture, and we’ll let the flyboys deal with it.”

A chuckle came through the commlink, intermixed with a peal of static. “Wilco, Colonel. Godspeed down there.”

Picking through the rough terrain, Calvin crossed the distance between him and Menahem, then he came to a halt as small-arms fire continued to be exchanged between the two forces. “Talk to me, Master Guns.”

“Echo and Gamma platoons are ready to breach, while Charlie has overwatch for any squirters.”

“Okay. We’re going in.” Calvin checked his battle rifle. Realizing he was a few rounds away from an empty magazine, he ejected it and slapped in another.

“Sir, might I suggest—”

“I’m not too old for this shit, and we’re putting the hurt on these guys,” Calvin snapped. “Clear?”

“Crystal, sir.”

Calvin slapped him on the shoulder with his heavy-armored gauntlet before surveying the battlefield one last time. The hostiles had been almost entirely suppressed and were limited to sticking a weapon out of a window and firing wildly. He identified a ground-floor-level door to the right side of the building and marked it as an ingress point. “That’s our entry.”

The fire team moved forward like a human wave, with Calvin and Menahem in the center. They crossed the distance to the door, and one of the power-armored Marines kicked it in. It didn’t so much open as collapse from the impact.

Any illusion of the fight being almost over was shattered by massed weapons fire from within that turned the area outside the opening into a kill zone.

Bullets buried themselves in the cheap structure, while others filled the air like a swarm of angry bees. Calvin assisted the Marine who’d breached the door as he stumbled to one side. None of the Zeivlot terrorist rounds pierced his armor, but he had two broken ribs, according to the internal medical scans.

“Okay, we’re done screwing with these guys.” Calvin plucked a fragmentation grenade out of a recess in his armor, pulled the pin, and tossed it down the corridor. “Frag, over!” A couple of seconds later, it exploded in a violent flash of orange flame, after which came silence.

“Pulse then subdue?” Menahem asked.

“Yup.”

The senior NCO tossed a different type of grenade down the corridor. “Pulse, over!”

A blinding light erupted from the opening in the building, and the Marines charged in. A few defenders tried to engage but were quickly cut down with precision bursts to their center mass. The heavy smell of propellant hung in the air as the friendly forces secured all weapons in view and zip-tied the hands of the enemies on the off chance any of them had survived—so they couldn’t reenter the fight.

“This place is a maze,” Menahem said as waypoints he’d placed throughout the 3-D projection snapped into place on their HUDs. “Echo and Gamma have breached successfully. Lots of tangos down.”

Calvin pursed his lips. “I’m showing six KIA. Too damn many, Master Guns.”

“Hostile rescue ops are the worst. Can’t use overwhelming firepower on structures because of risk of collateral damage.”

“Yeah,” Calvin grunted. “Okay, our squads are showing ready. Let’s finish this. I do not want to fight every nutcase Zeivlot who thinks they can get to heaven by killing us.”

“Yes, sir.”

A moment later, green lights flashed across the entire Marine force’s integrated tracking system, and they rushed forward. Systematically, rooms were cleared by tossing pulse grenades in followed by a quick smash and clear. To prevent more hostiles from doubling back, rear guards were posted at each hallway. It took close to ten minutes for Calvin and the rest of the platoon to arrive outside a set of double doors to the room where the tracker said Rodell and Bo’hai were being held captive.

“Det cord,” Calvin said into the comm as quietly as he could. “The door and two meters down the wall. I want to hit them from two directions at once.”

Reinforcements, consisting of Gamma platoon and twenty-eight Marines, arrived and crowded into the hallway. The explosives expert for Calvin’s unit gave the thumbs-up at last as the final charge was set.

“We’ll take the door. Gamma, you guys hit the wall entry point. Pulse grenades in. Shock and awe, ladies. Put down anything holding a weapon with extreme prejudice,” Calvin barked.

“Sir, yes, sir!” a dozen voices echoed.

“Blow it.”

A second later, both strips exploded with a loud bang, blowing fire and debris outward as the door and the wall crumbled. Training kicked in, and the Marines tossed pulse grenades before rushing in to clear the room.

Calvin was the fifth through the door and took in a chaotic scene. A few Zeivlots still held weapons and gamely returned fire from behind a desk, even as his Marines shot them dead.

One of the terrorists suddenly darted forward, his jacket bulging. The closest Marine didn’t seem to think. Instead, he charged the hostile and gave him a giant power-armored bear hug. The two men grappled on the floor as time seemed to slow to a halt before the suicide bomber was able to trigger his deadly trap.

The resulting explosion knocked anyone not in power armor off their feet, and even the friendlies closest to it fell backward.

Another door popped open at the far end of the room, and Calvin whipped up his battle rifle, ready to kill whatever came through. As his finger itched to squeeze the trigger, a Zeivlot male pushed a female in front of him, holding an oddly shaped pistol to her head.

“One more step out of any of you, and I will kill her.” The CDF power armor’s integrated translation matrix picked up what the alien was saying and relayed it in a disembodied computer voice.

Calvin let his rifle drop and held up a fist in the symbol for stop. He then grabbed his primary weapon and resighted down the optics at the hostile. “You’re not walking out of here.” That’s gotta be Bo’hai, the translator. Where’s our guy?

“I want transportation, and when I am far enough away, you can have the desecrator back.”

Must be Rodell. “I don’t negotiate with terrorists holding a gun to a woman’s head.”

The Zeivlot curled his mouth into a snarl. “Would you rather negotiate with her corpse?”

Engagement at medium range, with an enemy holding a hostage at gunpoint, was among the most challenging shots to attempt. But as would be expected, Coalition technology offered an advantage. Calvin engaged the target-acquisition mode of his battle rifle’s integrated optics, which were linked with his helmet’s advanced computer network.

It only took a second and a half for the system to suggest an optimal firing position, which Calvin adjusted into without drawing suspicion, as it was only a few centimeters from where he was already aiming. “How about we all take a step back, and I’ll see what I can do for you.”

“Transportation. Now.”

As the terrorist’s finger jerked ever so slightly forward, Calvin squeezed the trigger on his battle rifle, and a single round erupted from the weapon. It blew through the alien’s forehead, directly between the eyes. In slow motion, the hostile dropped without firing his pistol.

Bo’hai let out a bloodcurdling scream as blood sprayed onto her face, and she threw herself to the side as other Marines charged forward, clearing the last room. A few moments later, one of them escorted Rodell out. Both hostages were smeared with dirt and blood, their clothes ripped.

“Sorry about that, miss. I don’t negotiate with terrorists.”

Bo’hai’s mouth opened and shut a couple of times before any sound came out. “How… That was… By the Maker, how am I alive?”

“Good old-fashioned Terran Coalition tech.” Calvin slapped his battle rifle’s optical rail. “That shot is easy peasy when you have a computer making the calcs.” He turned toward Menahem. “Get a corpsman up here, and let's get moving.”

“Yes, sir. Enemy ground is ten minutes out. Overwatch is engaging, but there’re a lot of them.”

Calvin reached down to offer his hand to Bo’hai. “No time like the present.”

While the rescue of their citizens as well as the human hostage was welcome news to Vog’t and really the entire Zeivlot people, it did little to quell the growing tension throughout their world. Most of the population had solidly backed the idea that the aliens had been sent by the Maker. Letting it leak that the name David Cohen and his fellow Jews used for God was on their most sacred object had done much to convince any holdouts. Yet for all the harmony the belief promoted, it made the extremists all the more determined to trigger an all-out war. Suicide bombings had swept through several major cities, killing hundreds of civilians.

Despite the destruction, Vog’t felt grateful that the humans had come. Perhaps in some way, the Maker will use them to help us destroy the insurgency once and for all. The confluence of events had allowed her to take the gloves off. In one of the major population centers that had significant support for the main terror group, she’d declared martial law and put hovertanks in the streets. Nothing was off the table to root them out.

But military action had hidden costs, and she stared one of them down as a video monitor in her office snapped on. Known as the Blue Link, it allowed her and the leader of Zavlot to directly communicate with each other. Installed several decades prior, once both worlds had reestablished spaceflight, the link was used to deescalate tensions in the hopes of preventing yet another fusion holocaust.

Adroi Sudabon’s bald head came into focus in front of a row of Zavlotian flags. His face wore a scowl, which was all Vog’t could ever remember him having. “Greetings, Zupan Vog’t.”

“I bid you greetings in the name of the Maker and the people of Zeivlot.”

The scowl deepened. “Let us dispense with the pleasantries. I have a serious matter to discuss.”

“By all means.” She had some inkling of what was coming, but one could never know with them. They had a penchant for throwing unexpected things into the mix.

“We have become aware of military technology transfers and assistance from the alien force to Zeivlot. I thought I made it clear when this threat was first detected that we wouldn’t tolerate you gaining a vast technological edge over us. Yet you conspire with these… humans to do just that.”

Vog’t mentally counted to three. I must remain steadfast but not defensive. “That is not accurate. The humans have only given us small amounts of medical technology, primarily bandages that promote healing and have nanomachines in them to rebuild skin.”

“Of course.” Sudabon laughed bitterly. “Even if that were true… you will reverse-engineer them to gain advantage.”

“I’m willing to share anything equally, as I already promised. We are transparent in every dealing that is ongoing with the humans.”

“Then why did military forces from the Lion of Judah land on Zeivlot? We have multiple points of intelligence that they fought several battles against your extremists.”

“Because the extremists captured a human. I had to allow it or risk an interstellar incident.”

“And you expect us to believe you gathered no technology from these encounters? Or aren’t building relationships between your military and theirs?”

“To what end?”

“To invade and destroy us!” Sudabon thundered. “What possible reason would I have to believe otherwise? Or should I remind you of what’s happened between our worlds for thousands of rotations?”

Vog’t spread her hands out on the desk. “Have I ever lied to you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Have we kept our agreements? Did we allow Zavlot observers into our military facilities and missile-launch sites to confirm we are living up to our agreements in the limited arms control treaty?”

For a moment, it appeared as if the video feed had dropped. Then Sudabon replied, “I suppose you have. At least, we have not discovered any lie. I remind you we allow your inspectors onto our world, as well.”

“It has been my position throughout my tenure that I want to lower the temperature of conflict between our two races and find a way to coexist. If not as friends, at least not as diehard enemies who wish to rain death and destruction on each other.”

“Tell that to the terrorists.”

“I’m doing my best.”

“And it might not be good enough. I’m getting pressure from mainline and radical political parties. If this goes much further, I may not be able to stop them from doing something rash.”

Vog’t set her jaw. “Don’t threaten me, Sudabon.”

“This is not a threat. It is a warning from one person to another who wishes for peace.”

“What do you want?” Her eyes flashed.

“As it stands, this wondrous human vessel orbits Zeivlot solely. Why not allow it to come here? Meet us. Engage with us. Once we see for ourselves that they aren’t hostile, perhaps the Zavlot can establish similar relations, and I will be able to tamp down the most radical elements in our political structure.”

Of course you want them in orbit of Zavlot. That way, you control the narrative and make us out to be the enemy. General Cohen is angry enough with us that he might just believe it too. “I will take your suggestion under advisement. And of course, the final decision is up to the humans.”

“Ah, yes. I’m sure it is.”

“In the meanwhile, do I have your word we will continue on the path of peace?”

“It will not be our world that starts the war to end all wars.” Sudabon laughed bitterly. “I wonder if previous Zeivlots and Zavlots have sat in our chairs, in similar situations, and made the same proclamations.”

“There’s an important difference,” Vog’t replied softly. “There were no aliens in the mix.”

Sudabon nodded thoughtfully. “A true statement, Zupan Vog’t. Perhaps they will alter the outcome, or perhaps they won’t. Only the Maker knows.”

“Truth. When shall we talk again?”

“Seven standard units?”

“Agreed. I will have my aides set it up.”

“In the meanwhile, may the Maker bless you.”

“And also you,” Vog’t replied. “Good day.”

The video feed blinked off. Vog’t didn’t pray often. While she believed in the Maker, she had little time for the trappings of religion. But more so than any other point in her life, Vog’t was certain the coming days would define how both Zeivlot and Zavlot society would exist in the future rotations. And she was terrified of making a poor choice that resulted in the destruction of all. So Vog’t bowed her head and offered a traditional prayer in hopes of avoiding what seemed like a rendezvous with death.

19

CSV Lion of Judah

Low Orbit—Zeivlot

19 January, 2464

A few weeks had passed since the Marines saved Rodell and Bo’hai from the hands of the extremists, and life had mainly returned to normal—at least, as much as it could on a human warship stuck millions of light-years from home, in orbit of an alien planet that held the secret to their being able to return. There had been little celebration of the new year, and even the religious holidays, normally a source of great joy, were muted in their festivities. Access had been restored to the obelisk, with Hayworth leading a nearly around-the-clock effort to unlock its secrets. The crew was entirely focused on getting home.

David had ensured the Zeivlots’ continued cooperation by slowly releasing intelligence from the captives they’d taken while carefully protecting the communications frequency and lockout codes. That would remain his ace in the hole. So as David strode into the Lion’s conference room on deck one, he hoped there was a good report coming.

“General on deck,” Ruth barked.

“As you were,” David replied, even as they all sprang up from their chairs and came to attention quickly before sitting back down.

The entire senior staff was present along with Dr. Hayworth, Merriweather, Calvin, Amir, and Dr. Tural.

David slid into his seat at the head of the table and flashed a smile. “Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. Dr. Hayworth has an update for us that’s positive… I hope.”

All eyes turned to Hayworth, who grunted. “We’ve made some progress in the last week.” He let out a sigh. “But it’s not going as fast as anyone would like.”

The pronouncement from the physicist seemed to let the air out of the room. Grim expressions spread, and a dampened mood injected itself into the atmosphere.

Merriweather nudged him. “We did have a small breakthrough with analyzing the outer shell.”

“Ah, yes.” Hayworth perked up. “I’ve confirmed the alloy of the object is an extremely high-atomic-number metal. Frankly, it shouldn’t be stable and nonradioactive. But it is. The mass of this alloy is such that something the size of the obelisk would weigh enough to sink into the ground. Based on this and repeated sensor and spectrometer readings, I believe there’s enough evidence to think it’s not a solid mass. Instead, I suspect we’re looking at an evolved version of our active camouflage system.”

“How do we get through it?” David asked, his interest piqued.

“Ideally, I’d try to cut a hole through with a plasma torch and progress up from there. No matter how technologically advanced the beings who constructed this thing were, it still has to follow the laws of physics.”

Aibek raised a scale over one eye. “You believe the Zeivlot would allow us to desecrate their most sacred relic in such a manner? Saurians would fight to the death over such a thing.”

“Oh yes, let’s all die over a piece of technology attributed to the man in the sky,” Hayworth deadpanned and rolled his eyes.

“I’ll ask the zupan about it.” David brought his hand up. “But I highly doubt with things as they are now, she’ll allow it. We need a noninvasive approach, Doctor.”

“Maybe there’s a way under it,” Calvin said. “Like, whatever that thing is, it can’t extend to the core of the planet. It has to stop somewhere.”

Hayworth blinked. “That is a… good idea, Colonel Demood. I’m somewhat annoyed I didn’t think of it sooner.”

David grinned. The doctor admitting someone else had a good idea was rare, and that he complimented a Marine was icing on the cake. “We could probably 3-D print some ground-penetrating sensor equipment.”

“Yes—”

Lieutenant Bell’s voice came over the intercom. “General Cohen, I’m sorry to disturb you, sir, but Zupan Vog’t is demanding to speak with you. She says it’s critical to the survival of their species.”

David frowned. “Pipe her in to the conference room.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

A video image of Vog’t appeared on the far wall, as the Zeivlots lacked holoprojector technology. “General Cohen, can you hear me?”

“We read you,” David replied. “What’s the emergency?”

Vog’t seemed to become choked up for a few seconds before recovering. “Thirty units ago, multiple cells of the extremists who attacked your landing party gained entry to a military control center. They’re threatening to launch our missiles against the Zavlot unless we agree to their demands in the next three days. And Zavlot is aware and moving to bring their systems online for a counterstrike.”

“What?” David’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. My God, they’ll kill everyone on both planets. “How many strategic weapons can they launch out of this facility?”

“All of them.”

David’s jaw dropped, and his head hit the back of his chair. “You have an advanced society. Why, in the name of all that’s holy, would you set up a system that allows anyone to fire weapons of mass destruction without codes, countercodes, and authentication by political leadership?”

“Not just anyone can shoot them off. We do have codes, countersequences, and protections. But we underestimated how many people support these terrorists.”

It took at least five seconds—David counted them off in his mind—for him to stop seeing red and clear his vision. “What’s your plan to retake the command center?”

Silence met his question.

“You want us to do it.” David’s anger rose once more.

“We designed the structure to be impervious to bombs and other kinetic weapons. Aside from fission and fusion warheads, we have no way of gaining entrance.” Vog’t pursed her lips. “The Lion of Judah has technology we can only dream of.”

Mustering every ounce of self-restraint still in his body, David avoided tossing his tablet or any other object in range across the room and into the bulkhead. “And you expect me to believe that this happened out of the blue, and your government hasn’t been holding back from us yet again?”

Vog’t licked her lips. “General Cohen, you have no reason to trust me. I understand that. In the name of the Maker, I give you my word that there was nothing to indicate this attack. No chatter among extremists in the usual social media instances they congregate in. Nor were there any other indications, concrete or otherwise, that would’ve suggested any assaults on any military complexes.”

Though he sorely wished otherwise because it would absolve him of any responsibility, he couldn’t detect deception in her voice or mannerisms. “Send us all plans, technical specifications, and schematics for the structure along with precise coordinates.”

“Does that mean you’ll help us?”

“It means I’ll think about it. We’ll be back in touch in two hours. Cohen out.” He nodded for Taylor to cut the connection.

Hayworth leaned forward, past Merriweather and Hanson, his eyes bulging. “You can’t seriously consider this, General. We cannot interfere on a mass scale with this species's evolution.”

“This is far beyond a semantical debate over philosophy, Doctor. There’re billions of people on both these planets. And our being here is probably a direct catalyst for what’s happening on the surface.”

Hayworth’s eyes flashed daggers. “Which is why we shouldn’t be here in the first place, General. I tried to tell you that. I warned you what would happen.”

David bit his lip. I suppose on some level, he’s not wrong. “And I will tell you the same thing I did a few weeks ago, Doctor. We’re on the only path we can be on if we want to get home. The cat’s out of the bag, as my mother likes to say. It’s not going back in.”

“I might be a simple Marine,” Calvin interjected, “but I think this is an easy call. We’re hundreds of years ahead of these guys. We have breaching pods, explosives they can’t conceive of, and weapons that outclass them to the point of absurdity. Not acting would be wrong. Just like it would’ve been wrong to turn aside at Monrovia, where I’d like to remind all of you that we disobeyed direct orders and did what was morally right. That includes you, Doc.”

“Not an apples-to-apples comparison,” Hayworth replied. “The Monrovians were killing fellow humans, first and foremost. Secondly, they were capable of faster-than-light travel and were fully aware of the political situation. These people are not. There are no human lives at stake, and if this were occurring back in the Sagittarius Arm, do you genuinely believe the Terran Coalition assembly would vote to authorize the use of force?”

“Probably not.” David made eye contact with each person at the table. “But we’re out here, on the sharp tip of the spear, and the assembly isn’t calling the shots. I am. The question remains… should we help these people or not? There are purely selfish reasons for doing so, not the least of which is if they drop a few thousand fusion bombs on one another, the ground will be so irradiated we’ll be unable to conduct any operations on the obelisk.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Hayworth snapped. “Wholesale interference with a non-FTL-capable species is out of the question and morally wrong. We do not have the right to force our beliefs and values onto them.”

Dr. Tural, the Lion’s chief medical officer, cleared his throat. “The first duty of a physician is to do no harm. In contrast, the first duty of a soldier is to protect and defend the innocent. By those rules, I cannot advocate any course other than intervention. We owe it to them to help.”

“To me, this is like coming across a hundred-year-old woman being mugged by a bunch of thugs,” Ruth interjected. “If anyone here wouldn’t step into that situation and dispatch them with haste, you’re less of a person than I thought.”

Harsh words, even coming from her. David held up his hand again. “Is there anyone that doesn’t support intervention besides Dr. Hayworth?”

“While it may appear callous, there are plenty of examples throughout human, Saurian, and Matrinid history that support the concept of noninterference. When a highly advanced culture interacts with one significantly behind it technologically, the less advanced society tends to be eradicated within years.” Merriweather sucked in a breath. “I’ll acknowledge there are gray areas here.”

“There’s nothing gray about letting billions of people die,” Calvin snapped.

“And that’s enough.” David set his jaw. “I appreciate all input, and I will make a decision shortly. In the meanwhile, Demood… Amir, start planning for two contingencies. The first is to retake the command center. The second is to shoot down strategic warheads exiting the atmosphere and launching from space-based installations.”

“Yes, sir,” Calvin replied.

“If I may…” Amir spread his hands out on the table. “We must help them, sir. You know from history what my people and yours did to one another hundreds of years ago. It took a world war and the threat of mass annihilation to force Jews and Muslims to work together. This situation might do the same here but only if they survive it.”

The wing commander’s words spoke to David’s soul. There were no further divisions by race, creed, religion, or any other grouping by humans in the Terran Coalition, which was something they took for granted. It simply didn’t exist and hadn’t for hundreds of years. But we all learn what it used to be like, if for no other reason than to ensure we never go back.

“There’s much to consider here.”

“You’ve already made up your mind.” Hayworth crossed his arms. “As evidenced by planning for an operation.”

“Doctor, I want every option open. That is all.” He glanced around the room. “Dismissed.”

As they all leaped to their feet and filed out, Hayworth hung behind and waited for the last person, Master Chief Tinetariro, to close the hatch behind her.

“Yes, Doctor?”

“You can’t intervene.” Hayworth said the words like they were the command of God Himself.

“You’ve made the argument, Doctor.”

“And you haven’t listened, because I can see in your eyes that you want to charge down there and save the day, like a good CDF officer fighting for God and right.”

David blew out a breath. “Doctor, there is no doubt in my mind that the morally right thing to do is to take military action to stop the terrorists and prevent a holocaust.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

“I have to decide if I’m willing to order thirteen thousand men and women who, for the first time in their adult lives, know what peace feels like… back into combat. Most of them have never interacted with this species and are millions of light-years from home. Do I have that right?” David shook his head. “As the commanding officer of this battlegroup, it’s within my purview. But is it morally right? I’ve got thirty minutes to answer that question.”

Hayworth looked as if he wanted to argue and began to gesture before letting his arms drop to his sides. “For what it's worth, General Cohen, I don’t envy you.”

“Thanks.” David stood and flashed a weak smile. “Man the science substation on the bridge. Whatever happens in the next few hours, I’m going to need your help.”

“I’ll see you there,” Hayworth replied and strode out the conference room.

20

David took only a few seconds to decide his next stop would be the shul and a conversation with Rabbi Kravitz on the daunting decision in front of him. He made his way through the ship, almost jogging because of the time constraint. As he pushed the hatch open to the synagogue, which was toward the aft of the vessel, along with other houses of worship for the varying religions of the Terran Coalition, David grabbed a yarmulke from a small dispenser and pulled it onto his head.

No one was present, as no prayers were being offered, and it was well into the first duty watch of the day.

David walked down the pews and stuck his head inside the small office in the back to find Kravitz seated at his desk with piles of actual scrolls and books stacked around it. The display brought a smile to his face because the old rabbi’s workspace always looked the same.

“Ah, David. I expected to see you before too long.”

David tilted his head. “Oh?”

“You face a decision with dire consequences, regardless of the choice made. I’ve known you long enough to realize your first stop would be to ask for advice and, I hope, pray to Hashem for guidance.”

“This really is a small ship,” David replied with faux annoyance as he dropped into one of the small chairs in front of the desk. “The last thing I want to do is drag my crew and the soldiers on the rest of the ships in our battlegroup into combat again.”

“And why is that? Are we not trained professionals? Is this not, in effect, our job?”

He’s right. “Rabbi, it’s not that simple. These people… my people, they’ve been through hell itself. To ask them to run toward the sounds of the guns one more time, to go into combat for the Zeivlots… it seems wrong somehow. They earned some rest.” David hung his head. “At the same time, we’re talking about billions of people on both worlds. I can’t turn aside and let it happen.”

“Perhaps what you mean to say is that you deserve some rest.”

David’s eyes locked back on Kravitz. He took a quick inventory of his feelings and thoughts and realized the rabbi was right. “Perhaps.”

“I told you when we first got here you cannot focus on the negative.”

“And I can’t seem to get past the idea that this entire sequence of events isn’t right.” David gestured with his hands. “All these people separated from their families. Who knows if we’ll ever get home.”

Kravitz leaned forward and stroked his chin. “We’ve experienced a very unusual pattern of events, yes?”

“Quite.”

“Then as you’re an Orthodox practitioner of Judaism, shouldn’t you at least consider the idea that this is Hashem’s will?”

“There you go, using good logic.”

Kravitz laughed. “I’m not letting you off that easily.”

“It’s just… they gave so much. We all gave so much.”

“And perhaps we have still more to give.” Kravitz inclined his head. “Anyone who saves a life is as if he saved an entire world.”

David knew the precept by heart. “And anyone who destroys a life, even through inaction, is considered by scripture to have destroyed an entire world.”

“I don’t think you need me to tell you what to do. You already know what to do.”

“Sometimes, it's nice to hear it from another,” David replied. And maybe I was hoping he’d have a different answer. That thought brought him shame.

“So, what’s the plan then?”

“Retake the command center, and defuse the situation.” David stood. “The rest is in the hands of God.”

“I’ll pray for you, David.”

“Thank you, Rabbi.” He turned on his heel and marched out of the shul. While he still had an uneasiness in the pit of his stomach, at least he had clarity of mind and action. It’ll have to be enough. It dawned on David as he strode through the passageways that having a mission gave him purpose again.

David exchanged salutes with the Marine sentries outside the bridge and pulled his Lion of Judah ball cap on as strode through the hatch. Instead of immediately taking the conn, he went to the communication station. All eyes were on him. They’re eager to know, I suppose. They certainly have the right to be. “Lieutenant, tie me in to the 1MC, and pipe it out to the fleet.”

“Uh, yes, sir.”

“I’ll use the old mic.” David popped open a small metal box mounted to the communication terminal. It held an antique microphone and was tied in to the intercom system to transmit to all spaces and holds on the vessel, which was how the commanding officer of a ship addressed the entire crew at once.

“It’s live, sir.”

David picked up the mic and held it close to his lips. “Attention, all hands. This is General Cohen. Undoubtedly by now, everyone on the Lion of Judah and in our battlegroup has heard about the situation on Zeivlot. I had to answer a simple question. Do we help or not? Morally, it’s a simple matter. We can help, and we should. Yet my duty isn’t solely to morality. It’s to the officers and crew of the eight ships who need to find a way home somehow, someway.”

Everyone on the bridge stared at him.

“The last few months, we’ve known what it's like not to engage in constant warfare. And I’ll be the first to admit it felt good. It’s not easy for me to order you back into combat, but it is what I must do. We’re going to stop the terrorists who have taken over the Zeivlot control center from launching weapons of mass destruction both on planet and in orbit. If it comes down to it, we’ll shoot down anything that’s fired toward Zavlot.”

No sound could be heard beyond the whirring of computer systems and breathing. A few enlisted crewmembers exchanged nervous glances, waiting for him to continue.

“I’m under no illusions that we can cause fundamental change on these two worlds or that our deeds will have an impact beyond tomorrow. What we can do is prevent an extinction-level event and give both planets pause on their next steps. When the time comes, I ask you all to fight as hard for the Zeivlots and the Zavlots as you would for Canaan and our homes. Because there are billions of innocent people down there, and in keeping with the best traditions of the Coalition Defense Force and our creed of courage, commitment, and faith, we will prevail. Fight the good fight, no matter the odds! Godspeed to you all.”

David clicked off the mic and returned it to the metal box. “Did the fleet get that?”

“Yes, sir. All vessels report affirmative.”

From the back of the CIC, at the science substation, Hayworth raised his voice loud enough to be heard across the area. “What part of ‘It is not proper for us to interfere’ did you not understand when I explained how higher-technology species interact with lower-technology species, General?”

David refused to tolerate a few things in life. Disrespect, especially on the bridge of the ship he commanded, was one of them. “Doctor. I have made my decision.”

“It’s wrong.”

“You put your opinion in. I considered it.”

“Reconsider it,” Hayworth snapped.

David took a few steps toward the back of the bridge. “Doctor, let me explain how this works, since you didn’t serve. I will often ask my officers for advice and input. I maintain an open-door policy, but when a decision is made… it’s made. Now, accept the chain of command, and drop it.”

“But—”

“Drop it. Or I will have the master chief summon the master-at-arms with his sidearm and remove you. Do not test me, Doctor.” David’s cheeks heated, and he gritted his teeth. No one talks down to me on my bridge.

Hayworth gave no further challenge and turned to put his gaze back on the console. Everyone else tried to act like they weren’t even in the room and focused on their stations. Like hearing Mom and Dad fight, no one enjoyed it.

David sat in the CO’s chair and cleared his throat. “XO, I have the conn.”

“General Cohen has the conn. Aye,” Aibek replied. He leaned in and hissed. “Thank you for putting him in his place. I tire of the constant psychobabble.”

Deciding not to feed the beast, David only grinned. “Communications, get me the zupan. Tell her office we need to speak.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” Taylor replied, his voice bright and cheery, as if nothing had happened.

As David waited for the connection to be made with the planet below, he prayed silently. Adonai, if it is Your will, please help us save these people and bring the men and women under my command home safely. As he reflected on the nature of conflict, both there and 4.4 million light-years away, he despaired. War doesn’t change. Somebody wants something that another has or stokes anger and resentment to cover up their own issues.

Nevertheless, it’s our job to protect the weak. And we’ll keep doing it until we can’t. David stared out the window into the void. Next came the part he dreaded—the waiting.

21

For the second time in less than a month, Calvin was planning a kinetic operation against hostile insurgents. Usually, he would be enthusiastic about taking the fight to the enemy—regardless of whoever the enemy was. But he felt a nagging warning somewhere in the back of his mind that the op would bring real danger. Probably because these assholes are trying to launch interplanetary ballistic missiles at the other planet and restart their little war.

“Sir?” Master Gunnery Sergeant Reuben Menahem said, jolting Calvin out of his thoughts.

“Sorry.” Calvin cleared his throat. “Thinking about the long-term play here.”

Menahem chuckled. “Marines, thinking about something beyond the next combat? Is that even possible? Maybe we’d better call Doc Tural and see if your brain’s working right.”

“Hah. Hah. Hah.” Calvin made a show of rolling his eyes. “Okay, back to business. This thing’s really far down, into the bedrock. The Zeivlots built it to survive multiple fusion detonations.” He’d already spoken to the construction battalion commander, who’d assured him they could cut through the dense rock formation. “I want to hit them from two sides at once and generate maximum confusion.”

“I take it we’re not going through the front door?” Yoshino asked.

Both senior Marines stared at him. “Not much on infantry tactics, are you?” Calvin asked with a snicker.

“Well, more signals intelligence, sir. Just thinking out loud… With our tech-level mismatch, you could easily punch through the front door.”

“There’s no doubt we could, Lieutenant,” Menahem replied. “But we’re not dealing with rational individuals here. They’ll probably try to launch the warheads, assuming they’ve gained control of them, the moment we attack. What the colonel’s trying to do is cause enough confusion to buy us the time to take the control room without that happening.”

“Yeah, what he said.” Calvin smirked. “You planning to hit OCS or something, Master Guns? Because that sounded like an officer-level explanation.”

Snickers swept through them before Menahem responded, “Nah, Colonel. I just felt like using some of the natural ability I have to dumb things down for cake-eaters.”

Jeers, laughter, and clapping echoed.

Calvin held up a hand. “I know better than to go toe to toe with a master gunnery sergeant. So let’s talk about blowing these shithead terrorists to kingdom come.”

The lights dimmed, and a 3-D image of the Zeivlot base appeared on the main holoprojector, which they were all clustered around. Enlisted Marines referred to the space they were in as the head shed, primarily because it was where operations were planned at a tactical level.

The base was roughly eight hundred meters below the surface, with an extended network of tunnels leading down into it. However, the command center wasn’t as large as might be expected. It had enough space to support thirty personnel or so, across several levels, and even that was limited.

“We’re lucky these idiots took this base as opposed to the main Zeivlot space force center, which is about ten times larger,” Calvin said as he stepped to one side, gesturing at the bottom floor of the underground installation.

“Two platoons of Recon Marines will hit the target in tandem, one on either side,” Menahem interjected. “We’ll train planet-side in a kill house while the engineers dig down. I want everyone in here to memorize this floor plan to the point that you can spit it out in your sleep. Clear?”

“Crystal, sir!” several of the enlisted Marines shouted back.

“The other things we have to watch out for are hostages.” Calvin gestured to the upper floors. “We think they’ll mostly be away from the missile-launch and control center, but who knows. Don’t forget we’re dealing with extremists. These are not Leaguers who will give up when beaten. They will fight to the last man, woman, bullet, and bomb. I’d expect all of them to have an SVEST or some other explosive device.”

“What’s our ROE, sir?” a young Marine called out.

“Shoot the bastards before they shoot us,” Calvin retorted. “Anything holding a weapon is fair game, without having to demand surrender. This is a military operation, not a police action. Also, we’re going in hard with lethal armor-piercing ammo. None of that stun-round bullshit.”

“Hoo-rah,” someone shouted, which quickly turned into all of them yelling it. The reaction was almost ingrained into every Terran Coalition Marine.

“Any questions?” Calvin asked.

“Yeah, what if they launch these weapons, sir? What then?”

Calvin set his jaw. “That’s the fleet’s problem. I’m sure General Cohen has it covered. Our job is to ensure they don’t launch. Clear, ladies?”

After another round of “Hoo-rah!” Calvin held up his hands.

“Okay. Get your people ready. I want everyone kitted up, armed, and waiting for the shuttles in two hours. We’ll continue to plan our exact routes on-site and move from there. Master Guns… move ’em out!”

“You heard the Colonel!” Menahem thundered as the rest of the Marines formed into a line and headed out the hatch.

Calvin and Lieutenant Yoshino were the only ones left in the briefing room.

“So, what surprises are waiting for us down there?”

Yoshino let out a sigh. “Sir, I don’t know. But I’m sure our counterparts in the Zeivlot government aren’t telling us the whole story. They don’t ever seem to.”

“Yeah, a common problem when dealing with people who have something to hide. How are you guys holding up?”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

“We’re in a different galaxy, fighting another war. That’s got to get to you.”

“Sometimes… It’s like a video game, you know?” Yoshino licked his lips. “I hate to put it like that, because I know people are dying, but we’re disconnected from it. I think that’s worse.”

“Eh?” Calvin tilted his head. “Having bullets whip by you is pretty bad, LT.”

“The best way I can explain it is when we’re flying drones around, taking out targets, and feeding targeting information up to the bridge… in those moments, I know I’m helping kill other beings. But there’s no shooting back at us. We just leave after our shift and go back to a nice warm bunk.”

As Calvin pondered the intelligence officer’s words, they clicked for him. “In the field, we’re all in it together, and there’s support from other Marines. I think I get what you’re saying, son. Just maybe don’t broadcast that point of view too loudly.”

“You got it, Colonel.”

“Okay, I’ll brief General Cohen and get his final okay. Keep plugging anything we get out of our alien friends into the tactical planner.”

“Yes, sir,” Yoshino replied. He sounded sharp and alert after what must have been an eighteen-hour workday.

Calvin slapped him on the shoulder on his way out the hatch and headed toward the nearest gravlift. He wasn’t sure he wanted to fight insane aliens that were hellbent on blowing one another to smithereens, but orders were orders. Besides, if the general thinks it’s the right move, I need to honor that. At least there were some targets to take out his frustrations on.

The Lion of Judah was unusually quiet during the third watch. Even though there was no day and night in space, since the dawn of long-haul spaceflight, military planners had kept the crews active on a set schedule to keep sleep from being disrupted. But in the stillness and darkness, David was unable to sleep.

Instead, he went the officer's mess closest to the bridge. Clutching a mug of decaffeinated coffee, David stared into the endless inky black of the void. He pondered the coming of the dawn and Calvin’s assault on the Zeivlot command center. Part of him wished he were down there with them.

“You cannot sleep either.”

David whipped his head around to see Aibek standing there wearing CDF athletic shorts and a white undershirt.

“Didn’t hear you come up, XO.”

“Saurians have stealth abilities when we want to. Thousands of years of hunting prey will do that to a species.” Aibek grinned, showing off his impressive teeth.

“Human females have the same ability.”

Aibek chuckled and sat in the next chair over. “I figured I would find you here.”

“Getting predictable, am I? Yeah, when I’m troubled, I either go to the shul or stare into the wonder of the universe and gain solace from the beauty of what God created.”

“You doubt the rightness of our task?”

“No.” David shook his head. “I’m convinced it’s the only thing we can do. But Dr. Hayworth’s right. I screwed up here. I… should’ve given more thought to jumping into a solar system inhabited by a species that didn’t have faster-than-light capabilities and presumably hadn’t encountered alien life-forms.” Perhaps it was hubris, but I expected to find a way home quickly.

Aibek put a hand on David’s shoulder. “I disagree, old friend. You had a series of poor choices and took the best one. I would have done the same. The doctor has his opinions.” He hissed. “That does not make them correct.”

“Above all, I feel for these people, Talgat. I’ve reviewed some of the comms intercepts. They read like things I’ve seen in our history books. I can’t imagine being so filled with hate.” David bit his lip. “That’s not entirely true. There were days fighting the Leaguers when I did hate. To see it played out for generations is disgusting but sad at the same time.”

“You hope that we can help them see a better way?”

David nodded. “Yes.”

“And this is why I would follow you to the ends of the universe, old friend.” Aibek blinked. “The Prophet taught us that it was our duty and purpose to fight evil in all its forms. It is the calling of every Saurian.”

“Sometimes, I feel the same way. God, for whatever reason, trained my mind and hands for war.”

“Yet you wish this were not so.”

“It’s complicated. There’s not a one-size-fits-all answer, because some days… I hate it. Other days, I’m at peace with what appears to be my calling in life. I won’t lie to you, though—the end of the war was a great day.”

“Some among us mourn the end of a conflict.”

“We do have our differences,” David replied. “But some humans like war too. I should say they relish the glory of war. I do not.”

“At one time, I lived for the hunt. But being around humans and you… has changed my perspective. I am not fully Saurian in my mind any longer.”

While David had suspected that for some time, to hear him plainly say it caused his jaw to drop. “I see.”

“There is no dishonor in it. I like what I have become. My walk with the Prophet has led me here, and down this road, I will continue to travel.”

David squeezed Aibek’s shoulder. The scales felt different from human skin, which he noticed even after four years of knowing each other. “We’d better try to get some rack time. I suspect that events on the ground will move quickly tomorrow, once Demood is in position for his attack.”

“Yes.” Aibek stood. “I still wish I were with him.”

“Me too.”

“Sadly, our place is on the bridge.”

David raised an eyebrow. “Don’t worry—if things go sideways, there will be plenty of action up here too.”

“Let us pray that outcome does not occur.”

“Amen. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Good night,” Aibek rumbled as he walked away.

David sat staring into the void for the next half hour, quietly pondering their odds and working his way through contingency plans. He’d already decided that no matter what, the Lion of Judah would do whatever was possible to save the Zeivlots and the Zavlots. I pray it doesn’t come to all-out war. Eventually, he went back to his bunk and forced himself into a restless slumber.

22

The following morning, David awoke from only a few hours of sleep. As tired and as worn out as he’d been when he finally closed his eyes, it made no difference. But like every other day, he put one foot in front of the other until he beat himself back to life with thirty seconds of scalding-hot water in the shower.

He strode out of the gravlift on deck one to find the two Marine sentries on duty. After they’d exchanged salutes, David pulled his cover on and entered the command center.

“General on deck!” Tinetariro barked as everyone not strapped into their stations came to attention and saluted.

“As you were.” David made his way to the CO’s chair.

The young lieutenant serving as command duty officer for the night shift sprang to his feet.

“This is General Cohen. I have the conn.”

“General Cohen has the conn. Aye,” the youngster replied.

David slid into the chair and pulled up his command panel to check over various ship systems.

The rest of the first-watch officers arrived and took their stations, relieving the previous watch. Aibek, in particular, grunted as he sat. “You are here early yet again.”

“I’m always early. My father drilled into me that one should never be late, and being on time was late. We’ve been doing this together for years now.”

“Yes, I remember these words.” Aibek hissed. “I do not share humans’ love for being early.”

“Well, not all humans. Just this one in particular.”

Aibek snickered, as did Ruth and Hammond.

While a touch of levity was nice, it did little to calm the dread David felt. Every fiber of his being said either they were walking into a trap, or the other shoe was about to drop. The bad part is that Calvin and his Marines will pay for it. We have to be prepared for anything.

The hatch swished open, and Hayworth entered the bridge. He walked to what some had taken to calling the science station, while the enlisted ratings referred to it as the doc slot. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Doctor.”

“I would like to again formally register that we’re interfering with this species, and I do not support deploying military force to aid them. We’re not God, and we’re playing God in this species’ evolution.”

That again. “Noted, Doctor.” David cleared his throat. “I need you to work with Captain Goldberg on ensuring our sensor suite can track outgoing interplanetary ballistic missiles from both worlds. Once that’s accomplished, assist her in recalibrating the point-defense network to automatically engage them, please.”

Hayworth’s nostrils flared, and he gave the appearance of a man ready to argue. Then he seemed to think better of it and licked his lips. “Would you like me to add a ‘Godspeed’ to the end of that?”

“No, just getting it done will do nicely.”

Hayworth harrumphed. “Very well. I’ll do it because you asked politely.”

It took every ounce of self-control David possessed not to send a snappy retort back at the octogenarian or smirk at him. Instead, he forced what he hoped passed for a sincere smile onto his face. “Thank you, Doctor.”

“Do you believe the Marines will fail?”

David steepled his fingers. “I believe in always having a backup plan, Doctor. And I never underestimate the resourcefulness of people who don’t care if they die… which is the very definition of an extremist for any cause, religious, political, or otherwise.”

“And you will intervene further if they do?”

“Doctor, do you have any better ideas? Even if I were to take your position that we shouldn’t interfere with them… we already did. If we were to turn away here, we’d possibly be responsible for the destruction of both worlds. I doubt anyone in this fleet would want that on their conscience.”

Hayworth opened his mouth and seemed as if he was considering his words carefully. “I must admit your logic is sound, even if I don’t like it.”

“Then get started on those sensors.” If we were back in the Sagittarius Arm, I’d probably just bowl him over until I got what I wanted. Here, though, I need even more consensus than usual from my senior officers and advisors. David filed the realization away and directed his focus to the task at hand.

“I believe it is time,” Aibek said with a slight hiss.

David glanced at the chronometer at the front of the bridge. Yes, it is. “Communications, get me a direct link with Colonel Demood.”

“Aye, aye, sir. One moment.” Taylor paused. “It’s an audio-only link, sir. He’s too far underground for video.”

“General, we’re just about ready down here. Call it another hour for the engineers to get the final excavations made.” Calvin’s voice echoed out of the speaker in the CO’s chair.

“Understood.” David set his jaw. “Any issues so far?”

“No, sir. The Zeivlots are a bit miffed we’re not letting them join the party, but I don’t have room in this outfit for folks with three-hundred-year-old tech. We’ll deal with the problem, then you can sort out the politics.”

David grinned, despite everything going on around them. “Gladly, Colonel. Execute at your discretion, but be advised… the terrorists are threatening to launch the weapons if their demands aren’t met. I believe that’s a ruse, as do the Zeivlot security agencies. Use whatever force is required to prevent them from launching a weapon of mass destruction. Are we clear?”

“Crystal, sir.”

“Good hunting, and Godspeed.”

“Godspeed to you, too, sir.”

The line clicked off, and David gulped. He ran the possibilities through his mind. “XO, I’m thinking about putting our fixed aviation wing on ready five. Just in case.”

Aibek raised an eye scale. “For?”

“Reacting to a hostile launch by either planet.”

“Most likely prudent, and unless we have to launch them, such a combat evolution will not tax the fighters and bombers.” Aibek tilted his head. “Which must be a prime consideration now.”

“Unfortunately, yes.” David let out a sigh and toggled the intercom system on his chair to connect to Amir’s handcomm.

A few moments later, the speaker crackled. “Amir here, sir.”

“I’ve decided we need to have the entire wing on ready five status to address any possible contingencies, Colonel.”

“I was going to suggest such a thing to you shortly, sir. You must’ve been reading my mind.”

It’s a benefit that we’ve worked together for three years. One hand always knows what the other is doing. “Great minds and all that. I’ll leave you to it. The Marines are moving in within the next sixty minutes.”

“We’ll be ready in thirty, sir.”

“I pray we won’t need you,” David replied. He still felt guilty for sending his people into combat yet again.

“What’s that line you like to use, sir? Hope is not a strategy.”

“Amen to that.”

Amir chuckled. “I’ll let you know when everyone is spun up and strapped in.”

“Very good. Cohen out.”

David leaned back, closed his eyes, and went through a mental checklist, trying to find any other steps he could take or measures to implement in the hopes of avoiding a critical mistake by either party.

“I believe the human expression is ‘Hurry up and wait,’” Aibek interjected. “Saurians do not appreciate waiting either.”

“Well, I’ve yet to meet a race that does.”

They both laughed, and time marched on.

The Terran Coalition Marine Corps detachment of two hundred of their best Recon Marines plus an engineering platoon had worked nonstop for hours. Calvin feared that the location of the Zeivlots’ command center—deep underground and surrounded by bedrock—would thwart even the best of Coalition technology. But the engineering company had an answer for everything. They’d 3-D printed a number of boring tools from the massive industrial-scale machines in the Lion’s cargo bays, and once those arrived planet-side, progress had been quick.

Calvin stood a couple of men back from the sharp tip of the primary assault force. They’d cut two access points into the bunker, with a final explosive charge from each all that was required to breach.

He checked his battle rifle one last time before cueing the commlink to all Marines. “Okay, listen up. We’re about to get this party started, and remember—there may still be hostages alive in there. So watch your fire. Make sure we’re only putting down bad guys, but… if you get into a situation where you must risk a hostage to stop the launch of strategic weapons, take the shot.”

A few of the power-armored Marines around him turned and stared.

“Yeah, I don’t like it either, but if these guys succeed, a hell of a lot more is on the line, like twelve billion souls on two different planets.” Calvin cleared his throat. “Let’s rock and roll. Godspeed, gentlemen.” He used the integrated blue force tracking system in his armor to trigger the execute command.

Seconds later, the tunnel shook as twin explosions went off within milliseconds of each other. Dust fell from the overhead, and Calvin’s heart skipped a beat as he wondered if the rock would collapse.

The moment the all-clear flashed across his HUD, he spoke into the mic. “Execute, execute, execute! Move it, Marines!”

They streamed through the opening, bursting into a nondescript room that housed numerous pieces of equipment. Two unlucky Zeivlot defenders tried to raise their slug throwers, still dazed from the blast. Marines to Calvin’s front cut both down with three-round bursts to their center mass.

“Clear!” the point man yelled as more Marines fanned out through the area.

“Master Guns, how’s it going over there?”

“Three hostiles down. We’ve got one wounded hostage. Trying to get some intel out of him, but he’s shook up bad. Lost a lot of blood,” Menahem replied. “Ready to proceed on your order, sir.”

Calvin licked his lips as he looked over the schematic in this HUD. The path for both teams to take was clearly marked. “Leave a couple of guys behind to try to get some actionable information on what’s waiting for us and if there’s any traps.”

“Roger that, sir.”

“Move out.”

The first door on their objective list opened normally, and the platoon flooded through. Calvin kept a couple of meters behind the first fire team, not wanting to crowd his men, but stayed close enough to the action to contribute with his battle rifle. They got to the next door, and the point man shook his head.

“Reinforced alloy, sir. It’s locked up tight.”

“Demo team,” Calvin barked. “C26, and make it snappy.”

“Yes, sir!”

It took less than forty-five seconds for one of the Marines to place a ring of the advanced explosive material around the opening, insert a detonator, and the entire force to take cover.

“Fire in the hole!” Calvin yelled.

The door blew apart, taking part of the heavily armored wall with it. Fire belched from the explosion along with a wave of smoke, dust, and debris.

“Push forward!” Calvin jumped up, second in line, as the previous power-armored point man charged through the cloud of dust into the next area, which was marked on their map as a clerical workspace.

As they cleared the opening, numerous hostiles opened up with Zeivlot slug throwers. Multiple bullets slammed into Calvin’s armor. While they weren’t able to penetrate the tough Coalition alloy, the kinetic energy had to go somewhere. He winced in pain. Well, there’s a few more bruised ribs.

Targets registered in Calvin’s HUD, and he brought his battle rifle to bear as he advanced. Two terrorists dropped from head shots before he dropped into cover.

Most of the enemies had adopted spray-and-pray tactics, finding cover wherever they could, and filled the air with lead. It would’ve been effective against the sort of combatants the people of that world were used to fighting but not the Terran Coalition’s finest. More than a dozen Marines poured in, their power armor shrugging off the bullets as if they were mere insects.

“These guys don’t seem to have any heavy weapons with them. That’s a bonus for us.” Calvin grunted. “Everybody ready a frag. I’m through messing around with these mothers.” He counted to three. “Frag, over!”

A dozen small spheres of death arced away from the Coalition force and landed at various spots among the defenders. One of them, who was braver than the rest, picked up a grenade and tossed it back before the rest detonated.

CDF grenades were effective against even armored targets, with the armor-shredding microprojectiles built into them. Against unarmored humanoids, especially in tight groups, they were lethal. Cries rang out after the blasts as the few Zeivlots left tried to organize a defense.

“At ’em!” Calvin yelled as he rose from cover and shot the nearest terrorist.

The others joined in and in thirty seconds had cleared the area.

“Colonel, we’re passing gamma,” Menahem reported. That was a checkpoint fifty meters in and meant the other force was close to the control room.

“Good copy, Master Guns. We just passed lima. Got another door to blow, and it’s twenty-eight meters to our breach point for their launch control.”

“Acknowledged. We’ll see you soon, sir.”

Calvin ejected the magazine from his battle rifle and slapped in a new one. “Okay, ladies. I am not interested in my master gunnery sergeant beating us to the objective. Now, get through that door, and let’s end this.”

“Sir, yes, sir!” echoed from across the commlink net as the Marines rushed forward.

Ah yeah. This never gets old. Calvin adjusted his grip and advanced.

Vi’t Dudjin had heard the explosions getting closer for the last fifteen minutes. He’d ordered almost everyone he could spare to delay the hostile force assaulting their position. At first, he’d assumed they were traitors to the faith from the Zeivlot government. That the humans were fighting against them had come as a shock—not only because they were sorely outmatched by beings with technology hundreds of rotations ahead of them but also from the perspective of faith. Dudjin believed the arrival of the humans was foretold, and they were to usher in a new era in which believers vanquished those who dared to defile the Maker’s name.

Perhaps this is simply another test. The Maker wishes to see how deep our commitment to the cause goes. Yes, that must be it. The plan all along had been to launch the moment they’d decrypted the final set of codes needed to arm the weapons. Thanks to sympathizers in the ranks, which had led to them being able to hijack the command center in the first place, several codes and countercodes had already been provided. Torture of the remaining personnel provided more, but some of the government heretics were made of slightly sterner stuff. They’d been sent off to their punishment in eternal damnation without filling in the needed access.

So Dudjin had waited. He counted each tick of the clock as the technicians performed their vital function, brute-forcing each silo and satellite's launch sequence. Once they’d gotten them all, he planned to conduct a first strike on Zavlot. While the heretics would undoubtedly respond, the humans, as foretold, would stop them. Balance would be restored, and the Maker would give them all a life in everlasting paradise.

“They’re in the next room!” one of his lieutenants shouted as he slammed the heavy alloy door shut. “We can’t hold them. Our weapons do nothing, and they slice through us like the wind.”

Dudjin turned. The fear and cowardice imprinted on O’eg Janard’s face was disgusting. If this has happened to my staunchest believers, what of the rest? “What percentage of the weapons are ready to launch at this moment?”

“We can get three different satellites and two silos online now. The rest are still decrypting,” a technician called out from across the room.

“Do it now, and tie the control into the main console.”

“Perhaps we should surrender,” Janard replied.

“Surrender? To heretics?”

“No, to the humans. What if we’re all wrong? What if we’re the ones committing evil?”

“It is a test from the Maker. Continue the task at hand.”

“I don’t—”

A single gunshot rang out.

Dudjin stared at the barrel, which was still smoking. Part of him felt a pang of regret for killing Janard. They’d been together for a decade, fighting the corrupt and sinful government. Yet nothing could stand in the way of success. Even his death wouldn’t be in vain. “We must launch.”

The rest were either too cowed or too committed to protest. As preparations continued, including some of the remaining members of the sect taking up defensive positions, Dudjin knew they were only moments from the human forces breaching the door.

Red flame and a cloud of dust blew inward along with pieces of the alloy door. Whatever explosive compound the humans used, it seemed to melt the strongest of metals. Dudjin wildly stared at the console in front of him as shouting echoed through the control room. Only four satellites and three silos were armed. It will have to be enough.

Pain seared through his right shoulder then his chest. Out of the corner of his eye, a hulking figure in a metal suit raised an unfamiliar weapon. Right before it belched more bullets in Dudjin’s direction, he used every ounce of strength left in his body to slam the launch button with his palm.

As flashing yellow lights indicated a successful deployment order, his vision dimmed. He collapsed to the floor, aware of impending death. It was all worth it. To earn my place in paradise. As everything went dark, Dudjin could see the control room around his body, like he had a bird’s-eye, third-person view. Then he saw indescribable beings appear. As they carried him away, he realized with one final violent thought that he wasn’t headed to paradise but to a dark and foreboding place of torment.

23

Adroi Sudabon stared at the harsh gray walls of the underground command bunker. Two thousand meters below the surface, the complex served as a continuity-of-government failsafe and housing for five thousand souls and was patterned on previous bunkers that had allowed the elite to survive the last nuclear holocaust. He tugged at his shirt collar, loosening it. Sudabon and the rest of the government had moved there the night before when intelligence intercepts came in that the Zeivlots had lost control of one of their launch centers.

It felt like a tomb. Sudabon shook his head. He’d figured that the culling would happen at some point within the subsequent hundred rotations. But I hadn’t planned on dying myself. All they really did anymore was get through life and hope that the end would be the next generation’s problem.

Alarms blasted through his thoughts and drew his attention to a bank of monitors built into one of the walls. They weren’t the newest technology, but they worked.

“Launch detected… multiple projectiles… space and ground,” a controller called out.

Mo’in Spajar, Sudabon’s war minister, slid in beside him. “It’s not their entire load but more than enough to cause extreme casualties and infrastructure damage.”

“Unacceptable.” Sudabon set his jaw. “Our defensive measures?”

“Even factoring in complete success of our interceptors, we’re looking at twenty-five percent of the population dead or dying.”

Sudabon put his head in his hands. “Dear Maker. Options for a proportional response?”

“We can try to mimic the missile volley as much as possible, but keep in mind they could be targeting our military installations and launch silos. It would make a further response difficult if not impossible.”

“You’re arguing for a full-scale strike.”

Spajar pursed his lips. “It’s the only option that makes sense.”

“The complete fusion destruction of our planets makes sense. That’s a new one.” He blew out a breath. Well, here’s what passing the buck for generations has gotten us. A voice in his head said he should decline the all-out assault and instead aim to inflict as much damage as they sustained. But if Sudabon didn’t go along with the military recommendation, they would probably depose him, and he would die sooner.

“What are your orders, sir?”

“Full strike. Launch everything we’ve got, and activate civil defense. Not that it’ll do us any good.”

“Yes, sir.”

Sudabon stared as the military team went to work, realizing that every moment was another tick toward total destruction. I need a drink.

Vog’t massaged her jaw, trying to will away the pain. Some of it, she was sure, was in her mind, while the rest probably came from talking nonstop for hours. As the situation deteriorated, Vog’t had pulled out everything she could think of, including a direct appeal to the Zavlot leader over the direct communication link the two planets maintained.

It had gone unanswered, even as the interplanetary ballistic missile strike from their orbital systems raced into the void. Ground defense had successfully shot down several of the IPBMs launched from surface silos, but the space-deployed weapons were already out of reach.

“Any word?” she asked War Leader Vycter Belgat, one of the senior military commanders.

He shook his head. “No, Zupan. There is no answer.”

“Alert! Alert! Alert. Launch detected!”

The computer voice caught them all by surprise as the giant monitors wrapping around the command bunker’s control room sprang to life. Vog’t didn’t want to believe it was real. She blinked once, twice, three times, hoping every time that when she opened her eyes, the screens would show nothing except a malfunction warning.

But red and yellow icons indicating launches from planetary and space-based platforms multiplied by the dozens and accelerated into the void. Predictive pathing began to project the impact points across Zeivlot, and nearly the entire surface was engulfed in blast-zone warnings.

Vog’t stared, frozen.

Belgat appeared at her side and gently shook her shoulder. “Zupan, we must launch a retaliatory strike. While there’s still time.”

“What of our people?” she nearly wailed.

“Our limited defense systems will do what they can, but our estimates are ninety to ninety-five percent casualties for anyone caught on the surface.” Belgat set his jaw. “But if we want to prevent the heretics from finishing us off, we must launch now, ma’am.”

“What do you recommend?”

“Strike package Light of Dawn.”

She’d memorized the different fusion warfare scenarios the military had put together. Light of Dawn involved sending everything they had at the Zavlot home world. Vog’t ran her tongue over her dry lips. “How did… They could…”

“Ma’am, we’re out of time,” Belgat said, almost as if he were talking to a child.

Vog’t sucked in a breath. “Go with Light of Dawn.”

“Yes, Zupan.”

Belgat snapped his fingers toward a junior officer. “Full package, Light of Dawn, for immediate launch.”

Orders and counterorders were executed in real time in front of Vog’t as the military officers got to work. The system was primarily automated, with minimal personnel in the underground silos, in a design to allow as many warheads to launch in as short a time as possible in a fusion-based conflict.

We have automated the destruction of two planets.

“Ma’am, we need your authentication code.”

“Perhaps the humans could help us,” Vog’t replied, suddenly unsure of the course of action.

“No matter how wondrous they are with their technology, we cannot leave destruction of the Zavlot to chance.”

Feeling as if she were on autopilot, Vog’t stepped forward and placed her palm on a security scanner that was flashing red. It turned green, and she inputted an extended alphanumeric code into the computer twice. The system then signaled its acceptance. She turned to Belgat. “It is done.”

“It won’t be long now.” He keyed in his security access passphrase and performed a palm scan. The confirmation served as approval to launch.

In short order, warheads erupted from silos and orbital platforms, all headed toward the third planet in the solar system. “At least they’ll have to rebuild again, just like us. Maybe this time, we can get there first and erase these abominations from the face of the universe.”

It took a second to process his comments before a wave of revulsion hit. “There is nothing positive at all about this situation, War Leader. Within hours, billions will be dead.”

Belgat pursed his lips. “The enemy will be dead too.”

Anger and hatred came through Belgat’s voice. They weren’t rational, considering all that was about the be lost, yet that hate came before even self-preservation.

Immediately, the realization brought shame to Vog’t. I’m just as guilty as everyone else. I could’ve tried to change this. Instead, I made peace with bigots and extremists. When Vog’t stared at her hands, all she saw was blood.

She collapsed into a chair. Tears began to flow, and they quickly became sobs that caused her entire body to shake. What have I done? How did it come to this? Bitter recriminations of what should have been raced through her mind. Amid the background chatter and the hum of the computers, she heard others crying along with praying to the Maker to forgive their sins.

“Contact the Lion of Judah.”

“Zupan, the humans cannot—”

“We don’t know what they can or cannot do,” Vog’t snapped as she tried to dry the tears with her shirt sleeve. “Try to contact them while we still have time.”

24

“Conn, TAO. Additional planetary launches detected… one hundred… two hundred… make that four hundred plus missile launches from the surface.”

David’s mouth went dry as interplanetary ballistic missiles and satellite-based warheads arced into courses that would take them toward Zavlot. He did some quick math and determined more than two thousand separate IPBMs had blasted into the void. Each one probably has five to ten individual fusion devices on board. My God, that’s enough to eradicate all life.

The only sounds on the Lion’s bridge were the electronic whirls of the computing systems and a few softly spoken interactions among enlisted personnel passing information between stations.

“They’re going to repeat the cycle,” Hayworth said, interrupting the quiet. “Even with all this firepower, something will survive. Enough of each species to carry on.”

“Not if we can help it.” David stood. His mind was made up: they had to stop it from happening. He’d decided that while the Marine operation was ongoing. What was it my mother used to say? In for a penny, in for a pound. “TAO, what’s our intercept profile look like on the warheads headed toward Zavlot?”

“Not good, sir. They have those silos spread out all over the planet, so we’ve got widely varying launch arcs. They’re all over the place.”

David blew out a breath. “And the IPBMs coming from Zavlot?”

“Mostly contained in a few space-based installations and grouped together on their trajectory toward Zeivlot.”

“I do not suppose either planet has defense systems?” Aibek rumbled.

“Not nearly enough to stop what’s coming,” Ruth replied.

“There’s a reason we never deployed strategic weapons against the League and vice versa… and why the entire local cluster of empires around Canaan has banned them in warfare. War is horrific. Systematic destruction of entire planets is genocide.”

“Will the paths of each planet’s weapons cross, Lieutenant?” Aibek asked.

Ruth shook her head. “No, sir. Entirely different trajectories.”

Aibek peered at David. “This appears to be more difficult than one would think.”

Sometimes, David’s penchant for unorthodox tactical thinking prompted him to take extreme risks in the hope of achieving outsize rewards. This is one of those times. “We leave a destroyer or two here to try to pick off the missiles during boost phase along with our entire complement of combat spacecraft. The Lion and the remaining ships will jump to intercept the different groups of Zavlot warheads.”

“Sirs, I’d like to point out weapons systems like this will probably have decoys and jammers of some sort built in. While the jammers are too far behind the curve to impact our sensors in theory, the decoys will give us fits.”

David kicked the information around in his mind. “So we’ll need every gun we can?”

Ruth nodded. “Absolutely, sir. I’d advise even putting ground-attack shuttles into play. They have energy weapons. The computers can handle targeting, and in the end, we’ll just be filling space with neutron-cannon fire and hoping for a hit.”

The odds were a bit sobering when Ruth put it like that. But they had to try. Maybe we can convince either side to stop the insanity before it’s too late. “XO, get everything we’ve got in the hangar ready to launch, including the Marine stratofighters and shuttles. If it's got weapons, I want it in the void inside of…” He checked the tactical plot. “Fifteen minutes.”

“That may not be achievable with a full war load of munitions, sir.” Aibek raised a scale over one eye.

“Prioritize heat-seeking and LIDAR-tracking missiles, but in the end, tell Amir that as long as a fighter has fuel and its energy weapons, they launch. And get our people off the surface immediately.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

David pulled up the tactical plot on his display and made a number of waypoints before assigning most of the ships in the battlegroup to them. He only left two destroyers and the deep-space repair vessel CSV Salinan in orbit of Zeivlot. The rest of their escorts, led by the Margaret Thatcher, would cover approach vectors for Zavlot. It must be enough. “Communications, integrate my plot to the network, and transmit all orders.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” Taylor replied.

“Now, get me Zupan Vog’t. I have a feeling she might like to talk.”

Aibek hissed, “What are you thinking, sir?”

“I’m praying I can get through to her and get her to self-destruct the Zeivlot warheads.” David set his jaw. Probably wishful thinking too. People who have fought for thousands of years aren’t going to stop because I tell them to.

“Conn, Communications. The zupan is requesting to speak to you, sir.”

“Put her on my monitor.”

Vog’t’s face appeared. Her hair was unkempt, and tears streaked down her face along with a black substance. It took David a moment to realize it was some sort of makeup.

“Madame Zupan, this is General Cohen. Can you read me?”

“I hear you, General.” Vog’t stared straight ahead with glassy eyes. Her voice was flat and soulless.

“We’re aware of the situation and are tracking all incoming as well as outgoing IPBMs from both sides.”

She blinked. “What?”

“Your interplanetary ballistic missiles. We monitored their launch and are moving to intercept.”

“Do you mean you will shoot down Zavlot’s weapons? You can see them?”

“Yes.”

More tears streamed down her face. “Thank the Maker. We’ve been trying to reach you, but our systems are experiencing a great deal of interference.”

“It would help if you could self-destruct your weapons, Zupan. Then I’d only have to focus on the incoming.”

Vog’t opened her mouth then closed it. “I… If I could, I would.”

“Why can’t you?” David snapped. “I give you my word we’ll take out the Zavlot missiles.”

“Our warheads lack a self-destruct. Once launched, they cannot be recalled.”

Unable to believe what he’d heard, David replayed her words several times in his mind. “What kind of—” He forced himself not to call her an idiot. “People design a weapons system that can end all life on another planet with no ability to stop it once launched?”

Vog’t shifted in her seat. “Those who hate one another so much that they don’t care what happens, as long as their enemy dies.”

At least she’s honest enough to admit it. “Your people have much to answer for, if any of you survive. That goes for Zeivlot and Zavlot equally.”

“I know, General.” Vog’t wiped her eyes. “And that you would be willing to put your life and the lives of your soldiers on the line to save us—”

“It’s who we are. No one on this ship could live with themselves if they stood aside as twelve billion souls perished. Not when we have the ability to help. When this is over, and if you survive, Zupan, you and everyone else needs to think long and hard about where you're going.”

Vog’t pursed her lips then nodded. “I hope we will still be alive for that reckoning, General Cohen.”

“Me too.”

“Godspeed, General.”

David paused, taken aback by her use of the CDF’s battle cry. “Godspeed to you as well. Lion of Judah out.” He turned to Taylor. “Order all ships to execute.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

“And our fighters?” Aibek hissed.

“Coming up on time, XO. Colonel Amir will have to do his thing, and we’ll do ours.”

“And the Prophet will bless our hands.”

“I hope so.” David set his jaw and engaged the 1MC from his chair. “Attention, all hands. This is General Cohen. General quarters. General quarters. Set condition one throughout the ship. Man your battle stations. This is not a drill. I say again, this is not a drill.”

The lights dimmed and turned blue, bathing the bridge in shadows. At least it made the screens easier to read.

“Conn, TAO. Condition one set throughout the ship, sir. Battle stations reporting manned and ready. Damage-control parties forming on all decks.”

David gripped the hand rests. Through the deck plates, he could feel the raw power of the Lion surging through the energy conduits and manifesting in the infectious readiness of the entire crew. They knew how to fight, and fight, they would. He closed his eyes and bowed his head. Adonai, please bless the men and women under my command. Guide us, help us, and give me wisdom to do Your will. If it is Your will, help us save the innocents in this solar system. Amen.

“Let’s get to it.”

25

Deep in the Lion of Judah, in a protected part of the primary hull, sat the G2—Intelligence—area. While not as expansive as one on a purpose-built deep-space-recon vessel such as the CSV Oxford, the Lion’s joint operations center floor buzzed with a dozen soldiers crunching sensor data, real-time communications intercepts, and all the SIGINT they could process.

Susanna Nussbaum sat at one such terminal, staring at the bright screen. She’d been there for almost ten hours and had to look away and repeatedly blink from the glare. The machine had been configured to display all signals intercepted from space-based weapons to control stations on Zavlot. She was searching for patterns.

“Still plugging?” Corporal Paul Teague, another junior analyst, asked.

“Something’s bothering me about these power-output readings.” Susanna gestured to the screen. “They have a couple of space stations in orbit that, as far as I can tell, don’t serve a purpose. There’s no commercial spacecraft docked at them, and they’re larger than you would expect to see for this tech level.”

“You mean for humans with this tech level.” Teague shrugged. “Remember, they’re not humans, and we can’t ascribe similar behavior to them.”

Susanna scrunched her nose. “They sure look like humans. I get what you mean, but space-based installations have a purpose. It costs a lot of money, time, and effort to build them.” She let out a sigh. “That’s interesting. The lateral scientific sensor array is detecting a power buildup on those stations.”

Teague narrowed his eyes. He’d been on the ship about six months longer than her and sported the flag of the Irish Republic on his left shoulder. “That is peculiar. Maybe you could get permission for a deep scan.”

“Good idea,” she replied before pressing a button on her console to call the officer in charge.

Lieutenant Yoshino appeared a few seconds later. “Whatcha got, Nussbaum?”

“Sir, anomalous energy reading on two Zavlot space stations. I’d like to deep scan them and see if I can sort out what it is.”

“Okay, but make it fast. I need all hands checking out these mystery accelerating missiles,” Yoshino replied.

“Yes, sir.”

Susanna pulled up the interface as he walked away and configured it to take a narrow-band 3-D image of the two stations and an infrared overlay. This will only take oh, ten minutes. She sat back, watching as the progress bar moved forward. If only my parents and siblings could see me. They’d know I was doing God’s work and that I ought to be here. It might be naive to think in such terms, but it was better than the alternative. She sucked in a breath and got back to work.

“Conn, Navigation. Emergence from wormhole within a thousand kilometers of target,” Hammond called out.

It took a few seconds for the sensors to snap online after a Lawrence jump. David counted them off in his head and breathed a sigh of relief as his tactical plot came alive with the positions of the Lion, her four escorting destroyers, and a whole lot of Zavlot IPBMs. “Navigation, come to heading…” He double-checked the plot. “Two-nine-eight, positive declination ten degrees. All ahead flank.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

The engines purred through the deck plates as the Lion shifted, accelerating through the turn and toward the enemy warheads. The only thing visible was the yellow star at the center of the solar system and the faint dots—one larger than the others—of Zeivlot.

“TAO, targeting status?”

“We should be in maximum point-defense range in thirty seconds, sir.” Ruth’s voice sounded off, as if something was wrong.

“What else, Captain?” David had known her long enough to pay attention to minor details.

“These Zavlot warheads are still accelerating, and my scans don’t show any propulsion units on them.”

David tilted his head and stroked his chin. “That’s mighty odd.”

“As you say, sir.” A few more seconds passed. “Entering max range now.”

“Target point defense at your discretion, TAO. Weapons free.”

The Lion of Judah possessed dozens of small PD emplacements offering three-hundred-sixty-degree coverage of the entire vessel. Typically operated in automatic mode, they were controlled by a shackled artificial intelligence. The ones at the bow sent volleys of particle energy into the horde of missiles.

Many red icons disappeared from the tactical plot but nowhere near as many as David had expected. It also seemed like the rate of closure had slowed dramatically. “TAO, are my eyes playing tricks on me, or are those missiles out-accelerating us?”

“No tricks, sir. I don’t get it. They’re going exponentially faster, without inertial damping fields and with no detectable drive systems.”

“Well, they’re getting speed from somewhere. Find it.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

The farther away the missiles got, the less accuracy the Lion’s point defense had. The barrage ceased with more than half the warheads still on track for Zeivlot, and an uneasy silence descended over the bridge. The situation was proving to be more challenging to deal with than any of them had thought.

David considered his options and cleared his throat. “Navigation, prepare for a micro Lawrence drive jump. I’m sending you coordinates now.”

“Sir, suggest we hold off a few minutes until we can figure out why they’re accelerating,” Ruth interjected.

David raised an eyebrow. “And why is that, Captain?”

“Because toward the end of that engagement, the speed of the hostiles affected our targeting computer to the point that I’m not sure we’ll be able to get them all, even if we do microjump ahead.”

David opened his mouth to reply before shutting it. Ruth is, of course, correct. And the microjump is a trick we can only do once or twice without blowing the ship apart. He turned to Aibek. “Get the G2 team working on this immediately. It’s their primary objective.”

“Aye, aye, sir.” After a moment, he replied, “We could disengage the inertial dampers and accelerate under normal gravity.”

“Not in this ship. The Lion couldn’t handle that for more than thirty seconds before flying apart.”

Aibek hissed. “Saurian vessels are made to do such things.”

“The small ones are. And only in emergencies.”

The XO didn’t reply.

As the seconds ticked away, David sat on the edge of his seat, waiting, praying, and hoping for the information required to complete the destruction of the fusion warheads before time ran out.

26

The void whipped by Amir’s SF-106 Phantom at speeds fast enough to crush any known life-form, were it not for the inertial damping systems built into the space superiority fighter. The Phantom was the current pinnacle of Terran Coalition technology and had been his craft of choice for a decade. Ahead of him was a tiny blue-green dot—Zavlot. Around him, the entire wing pawed the vacuum along with every Marine shuttle, transport craft, and ground support stratofighter they had.

Thanks to the acceleration of the Zeivlot IPBMs, they’d only gotten a few knocked down during the initial engagement. The delta-V of the warheads had taken Amir by surprise, but the friendly craft were close to reentering energy weapons range.

“CAG to all squadrons. Stick to assigned firing lanes, and be careful not to overheat your neutron cannons to failure. Short bursts.”

“Wilco” came a dozen replies.

Green lights lit up across Amir’s wing-readiness display. The targeting reticule indicated he was in range of one of the large and foreboding IPBMs. He squeezed the integrated firing trigger in his flight stick, and a barrage of blue bolts shot from the fuselage of his Phantom, matched almost immediately by those from two hundred other fighters, bombers, and shuttles. The void seemed to glow.

Several small explosions dotted the view. Afterburners kicked in, as the friendly craft had to keep accelerating to keep up with the hostile missiles.

On Amir’s HUD, the IPBM he was shooting at suddenly disappeared, only for more than a dozen new red icons to appear around it. Each shell contains multiple warheads.

“Amir to all squadrons. Hostile units have MIRV capabilities. Redouble your efforts to take them out!” Allah help us. This will not make the task any easier.

All around them, the IPBMs seemed to intelligently respond to the efforts of the pilots to destroy them by splitting apart. Within a minute, what had been a few hundred targets grew to thousands upon thousands.

Grimly determined to deal with the threat, Amir lined up another warhead and squeezed the trigger on his neutron cannons. All around him, the others did the same. A few explosions dotted the void, but Amir quickly realized something was wrong when he hit his target multiple times, yet it didn’t blow apart.

“Alpha Six to Alpha One. No joy. Repeat, no joy,” a pilot in the Grim Reapers called. “Adjusting LIDAR to spike the target. Colonel, there’s no radiologics on most of these warheads.”

Amir narrowed his eyes as he stared at the sensor display overlaid on the HUD. “CAG to all fighters. They’re using decoys. If you hit one, mark it as nonhostile, and switch to the next target.”

“Colonel, we need something better than that. Since those things deployed, we’ve got close to ten thousand contacts out here.”

“It’s the best we have for now. Stand by for additional orders.” Amir toggled his comm channel to Command. “CAG to Lion of Judah. Come in.”

“I read you five by five, Colonel. What can we do for you?” Taylor answered.

“We need an updated targeting package from the Lion, Lieutenant. The enemy warheads have deployed swarms of decoys that are splitting our fire. We can’t tell them apart.”

After a pause, Taylor replied, “Dr. Hayworth and the intelligence team are working on it from multiple angles, sir. General Cohen asks that you continue to engage manually until we have a solution.”

“Acknowledged. Amir out.”

Somewhat annoyed by the situation, he lined up the next contact and was rewarded with an actual explosion. Adjusting slightly left, Amir let loose with another barrage. That time, there was no burst of blue and red, only the unsatisfying feeling of being duped. As they continued to plow along through the void, the tiny blue-and-green dot had grown. It was still far away, but it represented a clock ticking down to doomsday.

Allah, guide our hands, that we may destroy these weapons and save the population of both worlds. With no other option, Amir grimly cycled to the next target and went to work.

Susanna bent over her workstation, with its three separate displays showing a readout from the deep scan of Zavlot. Struggling to make sense of the information, she let out a sigh. It seemed as if there was a continuous energy discharge from dozens of points on each station in orbit of the third planet. They were tightly focused and had more thermal output than she would’ve expected, based on the size of the installations.

“Lieutenant Yoshino, could you come here for a moment?”

“Yes, Private?” he replied as he strode over.

“What do you make of this, sir? Sensor malfunction?”

Yoshino bent over the screen for a moment before shaking his head. “No. Everything else coming in from the array is on point, so this must be too.”

Susanna frowned. “But… the energy curve makes no sense. What does this mean?”

“When you’ve eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. Apply that maxim here, Private. What logical conclusion can you draw that fits the available facts?”

“They could be using thermal energy discharge from a laser to—” Susanna stared at the screen. That’s it. “Accelerate their missiles!”

“Exactly.” Yoshino grinned. “Nice work, Nussbaum. Keep this up, and you’ll get promoted before we get out of here.” He turned to another officer. “Get me the bridge. They’re going to want this info immediately.”

Brimming with pride, Susanna pulled up another display to pinpoint the exact acceleration coefficient. Finally, she knew for sure she’d made the right choice in joining the Coalition Defense Force.

27

“Sir, G2 shop says those Zavlot IPBMs are still accelerating because stations in orbit of the planet are using focused lasers to propel them.”

David jerked his head around to stare at Taylor. “What?” Is that even possible?

“That’s what they’re telling me, sir.”

“It’s plausible, sir,” Ruth said while working the controls on her console. “We’re talking about ancient technology here, but I think I remember something about it from middle school science class.”

“Do we have a target package?”

Almost as if she felt the intensity of his gaze, Ruth turned. “Yes, sir. There are two small space stations in Zavlot orbit. It has to be them because the power-output requirements rule out a satellite. They don’t have miniaturized reactors.”

David kicked it around in his mind. The solution is simple. “Navigation, plot a microjump to Zavlot orbit, and coordinate with tactical to drop us in as close to those stations as possible. Within weapons range, if you can.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” Hammond replied. “It’ll be dicey to jump that close to the Lawrence limit.”

The dreaded Lawrence limit was how FTL systems interacted with large gravity wells, like those around a star or a planet. The larger the object, the farther out the safe distance for a jump. Activating the Lawrence drive within the limit ran the risk of exotic-particle release but could be mitigated by directing additional power to the engines. Which only antimatter-powered ships have the option of. “Draw whatever juice you need, Lieutenant. It’s not like we’re going to need our shields.” He tried to force a touch of levity into his voice but wasn’t sure it was effective.

Hammond was silent as she manipulated the controls.

During the multisecond lull, Aibek leaned in. “Space stations are generally crewed. Killing members of a species in a situation such as this would be considered an act of war where we come from.”

“I’d take the same action if it were the Zeivlots with a similar station. We’ll give them a warning to evacuate.”

“With respect, would you abandon your post in such a situation?”

“No… but I don’t think I’d be in a situation in which I was directly assisting the murders of a few billion people either.”

“To them, they are doing their duty.”

The Saurian’s words made David sit back. He’s right. “That doesn’t change what we have to do.” And we’ll deal with the consequences later.

“I agree, and were I in your shoes, I would do the same thing.”

“Checking to make sure I considered all possibilities?” David grinned.

Aibek returned it, with a display of teeth that would rattle anyone who didn’t know him well. “Yes.”

Such is the nature of armed conflict. With this uniform or any other, the wearer has to understand that at a moment’s notice, someone or something else might try to end their life. When David thought about it, he found he had little regard for the well-being of people who would kill billions of others. I suppose I can debate that with the rabbi sometime. There’s probably some deep meaning in there, because we cast ourselves as the good guys, doing what’s right. That makes fighting and killing right in some way. Even after twenty-two years of being a soldier and killing the enemy—namely the League of Sol—he still felt remorse for each death. It was simply how his brain worked.

“Conn, Navigation. Lawrence drive microjump plotted, checked, and laid into the navicomputer, sir.”

Hammond’s interjection was a welcome reprieve from the mental gymnastics David was going through. “Power up the Lawrence drive, and prepare to jump. The moment we emerge, plot a jump back in conjunction with tactical. I want maximum engagement time with the IPBMs heading to Zeivlot.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” Hammond and Ruth echoed.

While the lights were already dimmed, even those blinked a few times, coupled with a slight shaking David could feel through the deck plates, as the massive FTL generator drew all available energy from the reactor. It indicated they were close to being ready to open a hole through the void.

“Conn, Navigation. Lawrence drive is fully charged and ready for microjump.”

“Activate Lawrence drive, and take us in. Communications, signal our escorts to follow us in.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

A swirling vortex of different colors formed ahead of the ship, increasing in size until it was significantly larger than the Lion. The vessel accelerated and slipped through the maw of the wormhole then exited the other side almost immediately.

David counted out five seconds, the amount of time it customarily took for sensors to snap back online after a jump. “TAO, range to the stations?”

“We’re outside weapons range by about twenty thousand kilometers, sir,” Ruth replied. “Only showing two manned space installations. Designating them as Master One and Two respectively.”

“Navigation, intercept course—” David glanced at the tactical plot to see which one was closer. “Master Two. All ahead flank.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

The Lion immediately responded and accelerated forward. Even through the inertial dampers, David felt the g-force increase before the artificial gravity systems caught up. “TAO, firing point procedures, neutron beams, Master One and Two.”

“Firing solutions set, sir.”

“Communications, transmit a surrender demand, and order the personnel on those stations to abandon ship immediately.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

Aibek leaned in. “How long are we going to give them?”

“Until we’re in range for our neutron beams,” David replied tightly. “We’re running out of time to deal with the fusion warheads headed to Zeivlot. I can’t risk the destruction of that world.” A glance at the tactical plot told him that Amir and the small craft were still engaging the Zeivlot warheads en route to Zavlot. Hashem help us.

The kilometers ticked down rapidly as the Lion of Judah pawed the vacuum at maximum thrust. When they were thirty seconds out from weapons range, David turned to Taylor. “Anything, Comms?”

“No, sir. No response on any frequency.”

“TAO, put a neutron beam across Master Two’s bow.” We’re still out of range, but it ought to get their attention.

“Aye, aye, sir.”

A few moments later, a bright-blue beam raced away from the Lion at the speed of light, attenuating in the void just before it would’ve hit the Zavlot station.

David counted off thirty additional seconds before turning back to Taylor. “Communications, anything?”

“Negative, sir. No response.”

“No pod launches or movement of any kind on sensors, sir,” Ruth added.

“TAO, reconfirm firing solution for Master One and Two.”

“Firing solutions still valid, sir. Energy weapons capacitor is fully charged.”

David set his jaw. Why don’t I want to do this? I’ve been giving orders to kill the enemy ever since I got promoted to Second Lieutenant. But it had felt good not to give those orders anymore. I’ll deal with my emotions later. Now is the time for action. “Match bearings, shoot, forward neutron beams.”

Six bright-blue spears of energy shot from the Lion and eviscerated the two stations. Aside from a brief flash of red as the oxygen supplies expended themselves in a rush of flame, nothing was left except a field of debris.

“Conn, TAO. The missiles have stopped accelerating, sir. That did the trick.”

Unsettled, David shifted in his chair. “Good shooting, Lieutenant.” He pulled up the tactical plot and stared at it. “Communications, order our escorts to maintain position and assist Colonel Amir if any warheads get through his wing. We’ll have to deal with the Zavlot IBPMs ourselves.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

“Nothing gets by the Lion of Judah,” Ruth called out.

“At times, Captain Goldberg, I wonder if you were perhaps switched at birth with a Saurian.”

“I’d say it’s a possibility, sir, except for that whole I-don’t-have-scales thing.”

A few chuckles swept over the bridge, even though they were in the middle of battle. Sometimes, it was good to blow off some stress and frustration.

“Noted, Captain. Perhaps we should have you tested for Saurian DNA.”

Even David snickered at Aibek’s comment. “I’m not putting any bets on the outcome of that particular exercise.”

“Conn, Navigation. Microjump plotted, sir. Lawrence Drive showing green.”

Back-to-back jumps are not the best idea out here. But they didn’t have thirty minutes to wait for a complete cooldown cycle. “Power up the drive, and stand by to engage.”

Ruth turned around. “Sir, we need to do something about the decoys. Our systems can’t tell the difference between live warheads and fakes. And before you say it, yes, we’re three hundred years ahead of these guys, but there hasn’t been enough time to analyze how the decoys function.”

“We might be able to rig the science sensors to pinpoint subtle differences in the metallic composition of the warheads. They’re designed to survive reentry. I doubt the decoys are,” Hammond interjected. “The real problem is that the tactical network and, by extension, our external sensors aren’t designed to interface with the scientific sensor suite.”

David knew a plan when he heard it. The only reason the Lion even had the aforementioned highly calibrated and sensitive scientific sensors was Hayworth had insisted on them as part of him being involved in the Victory project. “Good suggestion, Lieutenant.” He flashed a grin at Hammond. “Think you can rig something up with the doctor, TAO?”

“I’ll try, sir,” Ruth replied.

David cleared his throat. “Navigation, power up the Lawrence drive. It’s time to finish this.”

Arthur Hanson stared at the final set of navigation instructions from the bridge on the central engineering control system as he prepared for a double jump. The jump was risky under the best conditions, but that they’d already jumped twice in the last hour made it all the worse. I remember the last time we pulled a stunt like this. The memory of Doris Hunter’s death saving him and Hayworth from radiation exposure was never far from Hanson’s mind.

“Watch the antimatter intermix ratio!” Hayworth yelled above the din of the vast number of engineering ratings in the reactor space.

“None of it matters if we get an exotic-particle release,” Merriweather replied. “Major, are you ready?”

“Punch it,” Hanson barked as he finalized a series of commands into the coolant system. “Max reactor output… now.”

A few seconds later, the lights dimmed as the massive Lawrence drive generators came online and punched a hole in space to the coordinates indicated by the navigator. The ride through was exceedingly rough, as evidenced by the ship shaking wildly and unsecured materials flying off wherever they’d been placed.

“Transit complete!” Merriweather yelled. “We’re back in normal space.”

“Run a full diagnostic on the reactor housing, and check for exotic particles,” Hanson replied. The problem, of course, was that any release of antiquarks or the like wouldn’t show up until it was far too late.

“Heat buildup in the primary coolant exchange,” Hayworth called out, followed quickly by a klaxon.

Hanson focused on the task at hand despite the earsplitting noise and troubleshot the issue. He quickly isolated the loop and identified numerous antiquarks permeating the area. The primary coolant system cycled over to the secondary backup system, and Hanson’s throat constricted as the seconds counted on.

“Coolant temperature dropping,” Merriweather reported. “We’ve got some damage, but it’ll keep.” As she spoke, the klaxon shut off, leaving them with only the sounds of the engineering space, which were loud enough to harm a human’s eardrums without protection.

“I hope Cohen realizes we can’t just pull into Canaan drydock for repairs or get new parts for our Lawrence drive,” Hayworth groused. “Out here, we’re on our own.”

“Yeah, I think we got that, Doc.” Hanson let out a sigh.

“No need to get snippy, my boy.”

Hanson turned toward the scientist. “You’re right. Just tell me something I don’t know already.”

“Power couplings for the forward and starboard point-defense systems are overloading.” Hayworth’s face lit up in a grin. “Perhaps you should focus on that.”

Chuckling, Hanson turned his attention to the next problem. I hope the general doesn’t want to do another jump. I don’t think the old girl could take it right now. The best way for him to ensure that wasn’t needed was to keep the weapons going. So we can save these people. It hit him that fighting to save the Zeivlots came naturally, which was something to ponder—after the battle.

28

“Reaper One, guns, guns, guns,” Amir called out as he sent a stream of blue neutron-cannon bolts into the path of an IBPM. The warhead exploded with a brilliant flash of white light that, to his good fortune, took out two more hostile contacts. Who knows if they were decoys or another fusion bomb, but I’ll take it.

All around his Phantom, the void was alive with flashes of blue light coupled with tiny explosions. There were far fewer bursts of white or orange flame than Amir would’ve preferred. The decoys built into the multiple reentry-vehicle warheads continued to give their targeting scanners fits. The only way to be sure was to destroy everything in space and headed to Zavlot that wasn’t CDF.

“CAG to Lion of Judah. Come in.”

“I read you loud and clear, Colonel,” Taylor replied. “What can we do for you?”

“Has there been any progress on updating the sensors to differentiate between actual fusion bombs and these infernal decoys?”

“I’m sorry, sir. Doctor Hayworth and the TAO are still working the problem.”

Amir let out a sigh. “Acknowledged. Please impress upon them to hurry. There’s not enough of us to go around.”

“Yes, sir. Lion out.”

Onward, the space-aviation wing chased the Zeivlot missiles. Amir scored kill after kill, though more than half were decoys, and it was painstaking work to remove each dud from the target list then prioritize the next closest contact and close in. All the while, they moved with haste but not fast enough to make mistakes. It felt like mental torture.

Again, Amir squeezed the integrated trigger to fire his neutron cannons like a machine. The blue-and-green dot of Zavlot grew ever closer.

A new problem emerged as the sustained barrage drained fuel from their microreactors faster than he’d ever seen. Several fighters hit bingo status and had to turn around to head back to the Lion or face complete loss of power. By Allah, this is not easy.

He pulled up the squadron stores report and scanned to see how the rest of the wing was holding out. No one had any missiles left, only a few craft even carried dumb-fire rockets, and the fuel problem was growing, especially among the more aggressive pilots. Still, they all pressed on. Even the Marine assault shuttles kept up a constant barrage.

Slowly but surely, the massive number of contacts on the HUD decreased a dozen at a time as the massed neutron-cannon fire kept volleying into the void. By Amir’s estimation, they still had well over a thousand possible warheads to destroy, and there were so many decoys. Only one out of every fifteen targets was a weapon.

Amir lined up and squeezed the trigger for his Phantom’s energy weapons, sending a flurry of blue bolts into the void. A moment later, he was rewarded with a bright-white flash. We’re running out of time. He resolutely pressed on.

“Conn, TAO. Aspect change. Additional decoys deploying from IPBMs.”

David set his jaw. The missiles from Zavlot weren’t making things easy on them. Between their splitting into multiple reentry warheads and the infernally clever decoys, it was challenging to figure out what they were shooting at. He’d ordered Ruth to eliminate everything in space that wasn’t friendly. So far, that was working—but not fast enough. “Any progress on training our sensors to pick out the fakes from the real thing?”

“No, sir.” Ruth glanced back at him. “Taking them down has my undivided attention at the moment.”

“Has Dr. Hayworth gotten anywhere?”

“I don’t think so, sir. He was complaining about the level of technical acumen the aliens have for creating active camouflage systems.”

“Does anyone have a solution?” David replied, holding himself back from snapping.

“I’m afraid not.”

Ruth licked her lips. “Here’s a wild idea, sir. We could try detonating some Starbolts in their paths. Maybe get lucky and take out a few clusters of warheads.”

While David had already considered that idea about fifteen minutes earlier, he didn’t want to expend their precious missiles, if he could help it. He ran some quick math on how fast they were taking out the IPBMs. It’s not going to matter soon. “How many Starbolts to make a real impact?”

“Twenty… maybe thirty, sir?”

“Make it thirty,” David replied without skipping a beat. “Target at your discretion, TAO.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

Close to sixty seconds passed as Ruth let the point-defense system run on automatic while bending over her console, presumably making calculations. “Firing solutions set for tubes one through thirty, sir.”

David pursed his lips. “Make tubes one through thirty ready in all respects, and open outer doors.”

“Tubes one through thirty ready in all respects, sir. Outer doors are open.”

“Match bearings, shoot, tubes one through thirty.”

The Lion shuddered as each Starbolt missile shot out of the forward vertical launch system. With one hundred twenty tubes, it was capable of inflicting severe damage on a small fleet of enemy vessels. One cell array sat to the fore of the ship and one to the aft.

David stared at the tactical plot as clusters of blue icons appeared on the screen, racing away from the center. Before detonating, they formed a rough set of cubes around the two largest groups of IPBMs. White flashes from fusion warheads turned the void from darkness to light. He prayed it would be enough.

“Primary targets eliminated, sir.”

A lot of them, but there’re still stragglers. “Navigation, adjust heading to zero-ten-five. Give me everything you’ve got in the sublight engines.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

The remaining IPBMs were spread out, beyond the largest cluster they were bearing down on, with a couple dozen more ahead of the pack. As the Lion ranged, hundreds of bolts shot out from their point-defense system.

“Conn, TAO. All hostile warheads eliminated except for the stragglers. They’re in small flights of two to four missiles each.”

“Best guess for an engagement vector, Captain?”

Ruth turned around. “I don’t think we can catch up but to a couple of them, sir. Not without another jump.”

David blew out a breath. I already know the answer to my next question. But I still have to ask. He toggled his intercom to the engineering room. “Cohen to Hanson.”

A few seconds later, Hanson came on the line. “Go ahead, sir.”

“Can we perform one more microjump without endangering the ship?”

“No, sir. High probability of exotic-particle release if we jump within the next thirty minutes.”

And there it is. David gritted his teeth. “Cohen out.” He turned to Taylor. “Communications, signal the Salinan, the Magen and the John Manners to prepare to destroy the remaining IPBMs. Instruct them to use any and all force required to accomplish the objective. Those weapons cannot be allowed to impact Zeivlot.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” Taylor replied. A few moments later, he cleared his throat. “Message acknowledged.”

The blue-and-green sphere of Zeivlot loomed in front of them, growing larger by the moment. David could do nothing more except pray and wait. And waiting is my single least favorite activity in the universe. He split his gaze between the tactical plot and the windows. Adonai, please, bless our attempt to save these people.

29

In the command bunker, the atmosphere seemed to go back and forth between abject despair and hope. Some were on their knees, pleading to the Maker for His intercession, while others still manned their posts, monitoring the incoming fusion bombs while coordinating what remained of their missile-defense capabilities. Imaging and sensor satellites in orbit had a clear view of the incoming, giving Vog’t and the rest an idea of what was happening beyond their atmosphere.

While the humans had knocked down most of the Zavlot weapons, more than enough were coming to destroy their civilization or at least set it back a hundred rotations. Three CDF warships stood in the way of that, and on the monitor, two charged forward. Their weapons flashed in the darkness of the void, a wild array of blue beams crisscrossing space that destroyed many fusion warheads.

War Leader Belgat let out an oath. “They’ve almost taken out our entire strike package.”

“I do not understand the issue,” Vog’t replied.

“They should’ve concentrated on what was headed toward us, not what we shot at the heretics.”

As he was one of her most trusted advisors and the leader of their entire military, how the man spoke chilled her to the core. How did we get here? At that moment, she was sure the Maker would cast them all into the fiery abyss and that they belonged there. “War Leader, you’re relieved of command.”

He turned and stared at her, blinking. “What?”

“Whether we live or die is no longer in our hands. The Maker will judge us and, through the humans, either deliver us from death or allow us to perish. But I can still fix something I should have a long time ago. You’re more concerned about killing the Zavlots than you are whether we survive.”

“They’re heretics! They don’t deserve to live. What’s happened to you, Zupan? You knew this when I first agreed to serve under you.”

Vog’t searched her heart. She didn’t think it was true, but she also remembered the word of the Maker, that the heart deceived the mind and soul into believing it was pure. “That doesn’t matter now. What matters is how we go forward with what little time is left.”

“We should prepare our remaining space-based force for a second strike and kill as many of them as we can!” Belgat thundered.

“No.” Vog’t set her jaw and found a reserve of composure somewhere deep inside. “There’s been enough killing for all the remaining rotations in the universe. If somewhere along the way, since taking office, I had done something… anything different, maybe we wouldn’t be here. A long time ago, we should’ve stood up and said no more.” Tears poured down her cheeks.

Other civilians, military officers, and enlisted personnel stared at them in shock.

Vog’t waved her hand at Belgat. “Get him out of my sight.”

Two young warriors put their hands on the former war leader and escorted him out of the bunker’s control room, leaving it in deathly silence. On the giant viewer panels encircling the area, sensor visualizations showed the CDF destroyers continuing to engage the incoming missiles. With the warheads so spread out, each ship had its own area of responsibility.

“We should pray,” Vog’t said. “There is nothing else to be done. Our defenses are depleted, and what comes next is in the hands of the Maker.” She held out her hands. “Please, join me.”

Everyone came forward and made a rough circle, holding hands with their heads bowed. As a group of warheads zipped through the AOR of one of the destroyers, Vog’t despaired, knowing what was to come. Then she realized that the smaller Coalition warship, which had hung back and didn’t seem to have much in the way of weapons, charged forward. Her heart skipped several beats. Please, Maker. Please let them succeed.

While a military vessel of the Coalition Defense Force, the CSV Salinan had a different mission from most CDF ships. She was designated as a deep-space-repair-and-recovery unit, so her primary function was to perform emergency repair and salvage. Also equipped with large-scale tractor beams, the Salinan could tow even the Lion of Judah, if it came down to it. But she was still a military ship and had several weapons at her disposal, including point-defense emplacements, port and starboard neutron beams, and twin missile tubes.

Major John Wilson bit his lip as eleven IBPMs accelerated in their final trajectory toward Zeivlot. They’d been running for the past hour at battle stations, waiting to clean up whatever was left. Wilson figured they might be needed to tow opposing warships from the two planets out of the combat zone, but not in a million years did he envision facing down mass death.

“TAO, ETA to our weapons range?”

“Fifteen seconds, sir.”

Wilson glanced at the plaque on the aft bulkhead, which was emblazoned with the motto Service, Tow, Salvage. He almost thought better of his next order. No, standing in the fight exemplifies the best we have to offer. “Navigation, intercept course with the incoming. All ahead flank.”

“Sir?” the navigator asked incredulously, turning around.

“I don’t repeat the orders around here, Lieutenant,” Wilson snapped. “All ahead flank.”

The Salinan was less than half the size of the Ajax-class destroyers the warheads had blown by, and her shield generators were far weaker, as was the hull plating. Wilson took that into account as he plotted the exact sequence of events in his mind. “TAO, remove the range and overheat safeties from our point defense.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

“Light ’em up.” Wilson leaned forward as streams of blue energy erupted into the void. “Navigation, maintain intercept course, and ram any missile that we don’t take out with point defense.”

“Aye, aye, sir.” That time, the navigator didn’t question the order.

Several explosions bloomed in front of the ship as the Salinan’s point-defense batteries found the Zavlot IPBMs. Five warheads blew apart with sharp pulses of white light as the shockwaves buffeted the salvage vessel and nearly threw it off course.

“Conn, TAO. Point defense turrets are overheating, sir. We’ll lose both emplacements if I keep firing.”

“Noted. Take out as many of those missiles as you can.” Wilson gritted his teeth. I sure hope we’ve got the spares in the cargo bay. An encyclopedic knowledge of the contents of the bay would’ve come in handy.

Two more flashes indicated to Wilson that they’d gotten more than half the final group headed for Zeivlot, and just when he was about to think there was a chance in hell of pulling off the crazy gambit, reality intervened.

“We just lost the forward point-defense batteries, sir,” the tactical officer interjected. “I’m showing power-conduit overloads along the entire system.”

“Steady as she goes!” Wilson thundered as the little ship plowed onward. The first fusion warhead slammed into the fore shields with a blinding white flash followed quickly by two more. Wilson thought the Salinan might shake apart.

At the last moment, the final IPBM adjusted its heading as the navigator tried to ram it. The warhead shot by and headed toward the planet below.

Wilson stared in horror. “Do we have anything left?”

“No, sir. I can’t hit it with a neutron beam,” the tactical officer replied.

Ten out of eleven. Not bad… if we weren’t talking about weapons aimed at civilians. However, Wilson was still fiercely proud of his crew. He’d trained them hard, and the Salinan had taken top honors for her squadron at the Valiant Shield exercises the year before, earning the coveted battle-efficiency award for her class, commonly known as the Battle E. He offered a silent prayer for the Zeivlots below, hoping the warhead would either misfire or fall harmlessly on an unpopulated area of the planet. Even though I know there’s a slim chance of either.

So close yet so far. David stared out the window at the bright sphere of blue ocean and green landmass below. They were close enough that the planet started to fill up a substantial portion of the opening but still too far away for the Lion to engage the remaining warhead. There seemed to be no planetary missile defense response. Probably all used up trying to shoot down the outgoing warheads. He stood as the last few barrages from the Salinan missed.

It seemed as if the entire crew were holding its breath as the fusion warhead entered terminal-impact mode. Moments later, a bright flash appeared on Zeivlot’s southernmost continent. It took a good ten seconds for the flash to fade, replaced by a mushroom cloud visible even from the Lion of Judah’s distance.

David dropped back into his seat, his mouth wide open. He finally gathered his wits enough to speak. “TAO… can you tell what was in the area it hit?”

“Sparsely populated area,” Ruth replied somberly. “Our scientific sensors show almost a thousand square kilometers was impacted. It missed one of the major megacities… but there were still a lot of people down there. Not counting for radiation casualties in the days to come.”

The way she put it bothered David. It should never be that easy to erase so many of Hashem’s creations. He forced himself to lick his dry lips. “TAO, confirm there’s no further incoming.”

Ruth glanced back. “Confirmed, sir. Clear board.”

“Communications, get a link going between the Zeivlots’ emergency response command and Dr. Tural. He can advise them on enhanced decontamination procedures.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

“The devastation is heartbreaking,” Aibek hissed. “Such weapons… should never be used on civilians. It is an abomination before the Prophet.”

“I won’t disagree with you there, old friend.” David adjusted the tactical plot to show Amir’s Phantoms and the surrounding fighters. Hundreds of blue dots raced through the void, chasing down red dots representing the Zeivlot missiles headed toward Zavlot.

Aibek leaned over. “They may yet succeed.”

“They’d better,” David replied softly. “God help us all if they don’t.” Every inch of his being longed to perform another microjump and reenter the fight, but it wasn’t possible. Not for another twenty minutes, and by then, this will be over anyway. David still felt amazed that both sides didn’t have fusion reactors for their people’s energy needs but had invented methods to allow IPBMs to cross the vast distance between the two worlds in times that were impressive by Coalition standards. It goes to show what a species can accomplish when they set their minds to it.

“The Prophet walks with us today.” Aibek faced forward. “I feel it in my bones.”

“What about in your tail?”

Aibek turned and stared at him quizzically before bursting into laughter. “Oh, a joke.”

“Sorry, it was obvious.” For the most part, Saurians had their tails amputated for space flight and ease of interaction with technology. Only a few didn’t. David had never seen one, though he knew they existed.

Time marched on as the blue dots kept gaining on the warheads aimed at Zavlot. With nothing else to do, David waited and prayed.

30

Hundreds of fighters and small craft raced through the void, hammering away at the IPBMs and their confoundingly good decoys as the warheads closed on Zavlot. Amir, as always, was in the thick of the action, scoring kill after kill along with the rest of the Grim Reapers. Bright explosions dotted the inky blackness as other Phantoms got their own shots on target. The Mauler heavy bombers had fallen behind, as had the Marine assault shuttles pressed into service as ad hoc fighter craft.

They’d gotten most of the hostile missiles, but the job became infinitely more complex after they’d split apart into ten warheads per IPBM. About two hundred remaining. Amir rolled to his left and shot off another burst of neutron-cannon bolts. Another down. He pulled up the squadron-stores report on his HUD and muttered a curse. No one had missiles left, and almost all fighters were beyond bingo fuel. Many were so low on energy that they could no longer fire the neutron cannons.

“Amir to Lion of Judah.”

“Go ahead, Colonel,” Taylor replied.

“Any updates on differentiating between decoys and warheads?”

“Negative, sir. Dr. Hayworth is still working the problem.”

“Acknowledged. Amir out.” He blew out a breath. It won’t matter soon. The bright-green-and-blue ball of Zavlot grew larger and larger.

Over the next fifteen minutes, they thinned the herd considerably. The rough math on Amir’s HUD left fewer than twenty warheads.

“Reaper One, guns, guns, guns.” The target in front of him shredded without an explosion—another decoy.

One by one, the rest of the squadron did their jobs. Fusion explosions detonated with enormous flashes of white light, but the vacuum of space attenuated the hard radiation and rendered them mostly harmless. At the same time, dozens of decoys still littered the battle space, and each wasted precious time.

Amir banked toward a warhead that had escaped attention so far, outside his energy weapons range. His HUD blinked a warning as he focused forward sensors on the object.

“Reaper One to all fighters. I have confirmed radiologics on contact eight-one-two, bearing zero-zero-five, range ten thousand kilometers.” Too far away for me to catch up, even at maximum afterburners, before it hits the planet. He ran the math on maxing out his engines, but even that didn’t seem to be enough.

“Bulldog Five to Reaper One,” First Lieutenant Shmuel Kaplan interjected.

“Go ahead, Bulldog Five.”

“I’m just in range, sir. Moving to intercept.”

Amir pulled up the stores report on Kaplan’s Phantom. Not only was it out of missiles, but according to the status screen, it didn’t have enough energy left for energy weapons. “Lieutenant, I show you bingo everything.”

“Don’t worry, sir. That warhead isn’t getting through.”

As the Coalition fighter careened toward the blinking red dot on Amir’s HUD, it accelerated further. He knew instantly what Kaplan meant to do, and he would probably have done the same. At least, I hope I would.

The two dots merged on the sensor display, and Amir brought his hand up in salute as a brief explosion dotted the void on the edge of Zavlot’s atmosphere. Before he could recite a prayer for the dead in Arabic, another voice cut into the commlink.

“There’s another warhead heading down. I can’t read it.”

Amir scanned his HUD and confirmed the report. Dammit. There was nothing they could do—the fusion bomb was in terminal reentry and headed straight down. Seconds ticked by and became minutes. Finally, a single white flash burst against the green-and-blue globe. From five thousand kilometers up, it appeared as if it had hit an ocean. Perhaps that will lessen the destruction. Amir stared at the pilot-status screen for Kaplan, which showed loss of craft in red along with flatlined vital signs. O God, if Shmuel Kaplan was a doer of good, then increase his good deeds, and if he was a wrongdoer, then overlook his bad deeds. O God, forgive him, and give him entry into paradise.

With the screen devoid of hostile contacts, Amir let out a sigh as he relaxed his fingers around the flight stick. He wondered how David and the rest of the fleet had fared. Toggling his commlink to the command channel, Amir prepared to report in.

“Conn, TAO. The last warhead hit the ocean. It's far enough away from land that there should be limited to no casualties.”

David blew out a breath. “Do we have any further hostile contacts on sensors?”

“None, sir. Clear board.”

All at once, the bridge went nuts. Enlisted personnel throughout the CIC area cheered, clapped, and yelled wildly. Even Ruth and Hammond exchanged a high-five. David brought his hands together and clapped loudly, as did Aibek.

After letting an appropriate amount of time pass, David turned to Tinetariro and nodded.

“As you were! Maintain proper bridge protocol,” she barked.

Instantly, the tumult ceased, and everyone returned to their duties. But even so, they all had a glow about them.

“That was an outstanding performance,” David said loudly enough to carry to the farthest recesses of the room. “One we should all be proud of and give thanks to God for the outcome, even if it wasn’t without loss.”

A few claps and muted cheers followed.

What do we do now? David ran through possibilities. The most obvious was to return to Zeivlot and offer assistance to the victims of the missile strike. I doubt they have antiradiation treatments anywhere near as effective as ours.

“Sir, incoming communication from Zupan Vog’t,” Taylor announced.

“Put it on my viewer.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

I wonder what she’s got to say. He felt revulsion in dealing with the leader of either planet, as he found them all directly to blame for the tragedy. And nearly destroying all life in this solar system. That they’d executed the same cycle repeatedly was a fact he could barely comprehend.

Vog’t’s face appeared on the monitor above David’s head. Her face was streaked with tears, while her hair was unkempt and matted. “General, can you hear me?”

“Go ahead,” David replied.

“Thank you. Thank you and every human for what you’ve done for us.”

David wanted to let loose on her. He envisioned berating her for every life lost and each callous calculation along with the absolutely asinine nature of politics on her world and their entire solar system. Instead, he kept a calm expression on his face. “You can show that thanks by honoring the lives of those lost to give you another chance.”

“I didn’t realize—”

“Despite our technology, Zupan, we’re just as fragile as you are. I don’t have an accurate count yet, but I know we lost two pilots.”

She licked her lips. “Again, I am so sorry. I wish we could’ve done more—”

David held up his hand. “Don’t give me that.” His voice rose. “Instead of talking about how you wish things were better… do better. Stop yammering endlessly about being a better leader, and be one.”

Vog’t seemed to take the reproach in stride. “What will you do now?”

“When our Lawrence drive has cooled down properly, I plan to jump the ship to low Zeivlot orbit and assist in treating the radiation patients from the impact site. After that, I frankly don’t know yet.”

“We’ll be standing by to receive you.”

David set his jaw. “Lion of Judah out.”

“General—”

“No. I don’t want to hear it, not until your people find a reason they want to live. This entire thing revolves around both sides having their fingers on a hair trigger to wipe out all life because you’d rather die knowing your enemy is dead than put it aside and live for something.”

Vog’t seemed to struggle to respond, opening her mouth a few times before finally closing it and inclining her head. “Words cannot express my sorrow.”

“Then do something about it.” David slapped the viewer control on his chair, cutting the vidlink off.

He glanced around to see a number of them staring at him. They seemed to get the general message, and nothing more was said. David’s anger cooled quickly, if for no other reason than it was time to help the survivors, not focus on bitter recriminations. They would have an opportunity for that later.

31

Zeivlot Geostationary Orbit

CSV Lion of Judah

24 February, 2464

David stared down the conference room table at Hayworth. He and all the senior watch officers, Dr. Tural, Calvin, Amir, and Major Merriweather were seated around both sides. It had been two weeks since the battles fought to keep Zeivlot and Zavlot from destroying each other, and the battle rhythm had been nonstop as they tried to help as many people as possible on both planets. Acute radiation treatments were nonexistent on either world, and Dr. Tural’s medical teams had worked night and day to save as many lives as possible.

Everyone in the fleet was exhausted. It showed on their faces.

“I think it’s time for us to admit we’ve done all we can.”

All eyes flicked to David.

“If these people want to kill one another in large numbers, we can’t stop them forever. While I hope our actions will cause introspection on both sides, it’s clear that our presence is destabilizing the broader situation.”

“So wait. We’re leaving? What about the artifact and getting home?” Ruth interjected. Her eyes flashed with anger.

“There’s got to be more of them out there somewhere in Sextans B. The good news is that this galaxy is compact enough to move around without overworking the Lawrence drive.”

“I agree,” Hayworth said as he leaned forward, glancing up and down the two rows of officers. “The idea this is the only trace of a hyperadvanced civilization is absurd. I’ve analyzed deep-penetrating sensor sweeps of Zeivlot along with Lieutenant Yoshino for weeks. There are no ruins that predate the Zeivlots and no evidence of other technology on the planet from whatever race that built the obelisk.”

Before David could reply, Hayworth cleared his throat. “I would add it's high time we stopped interfering with the evolution of both these species. The best thing we can do is leave and hope they figure things out.”

“Well, at least they can’t blow one another to kingdom come for a few years,” Hanson quipped.

The joke fell flat.

“The doctor is right.” David pursed his lips. “I disagree with his position on noninterference, but in this case, it seems as if our presence did far more harm than good. We… No, I almost caused a holocaust.”

“Sir, that’s not fair. You had no intention of causing the unhinged reaction we got from those extremists,” Ruth said with a dirty look in Hayworth’s direction.

“No, I didn’t. But a truth I’ve learned in my time in this universe is that humans and, to an extent, all species judge themselves by the intent of their actions. Well, everyone else judges us by the outcome of our actions. This ended up on a knife’s edge, and it cost good people their lives, including sixteen of our own. In the future, I cannot allow a similar situation.”

“Glad to hear it.”

Letting the comment from Hayworth pass, David turned to his left. “Dr. Tural, how is the relief effort proceeding? Specifically our decontamination centers.”

“The medical personnel from every ship in the fleet and our Marine support have performed as well as I could ask anyone to. Countless lives have been saved, though many more were lost. The death toll will reach a million easily.” Both planets took one warhead hit each, though thankfully, neither hit one of the megalopolises that dotted the worlds. If one had, the toll would’ve reached twenty million or more.

The numbers cast a pall over the conference room, and the atmosphere became oppressive.

“I have a report on our provisions and logistical situation, sir,” Tinetariro said, almost as if she was trying to direct everyone to a less depressing subject.

Who says the master chief doesn’t know how to motivate us? “By all means.” David gestured for her to continue.

“Well, I tracked down some enlisted personnel who grew up on farms and drafted them to turn cargo bay four into a large-scale vegetable-and-fruit-growing operation.” Tinetariro flashed a thin smile. “It took some doing, but the officers’ and chiefs’ messes had a supply of organic tomatoes, squash, cucumbers, peppers, and eggplant that wasn’t used up.”

“Why not just use regular vegetables?” Calvin asked. “Seeds are seeds, right?”

“Not quite. Most seeds that are genetically engineered fail to germinate. They won’t reproduce, no matter what you do to them. The organic stuff works.” She shrugged. “The exact how and why is beyond me, but the good news is between those vegetables and some selections from Zeivlot that are edible, we’ll be producing a decent amount of food shortly.”

“Not enough for all of us, though,” David replied. “We’ll still have to find other sources.”

“That’s correct, sir, but it’ll stretch our dry goods stores, and there’s always the C-rats.”

David chuckled. “Let’s hold off on those as long as possible to avoid a mutiny. What about the other ships in the fleet?”

“All of them except the Salinan have set up a cargo bay to do the same.”

“And how are repairs coming on the Salinan?”

Hanson spoke up. “As good as can be expected, sir. All damage from the fusion warheads has been repaired, but she’d need yard time to rework the hull. Patches are in place and will have to do until we get home or find somebody who will let us use their space-based construction facilities.”

Probably the best we could hope for. The specter of damage rendering ships less than ready for interstellar travel was never far away from David’s mind. “Outstanding. Pass my compliments on to Major Wilson.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Colonel Amir, combat air wing status?”

“Ready and accounted for, sir. I had two Phantoms pulled from storage and will undertake training to replace the pilots. There are a few aboard who washed out of flight school. I’m giving them another look to keep our full combat readiness up.”

David nodded. “Very good. Dr. Hayworth, I have a task for you.” He smiled. “I’d like you to examine the local star cluster and pick out the stars that would most likely support intelligent life. While you’re at it, scan for the alloy signature of the artifact. We’ll investigate any planet you can find that meets either of those criteria.”

“Ah, of course,” Hayworth replied, his face lighting up into a bright smile.

He seems unusually excited about that order. David made a mental note to ask about it later. “Well, I think that about wraps things up for today. Except for one thing. Before we depart, I want a system-wide commlink connection that will show up on every device on both Zeivlot and Zavlot. Can we do that, Lieutenant?”

“Yes, sir,” Taylor replied. “Neither planet has the technology to keep us out, though they’ll be able to block the signal manually. I’m not sure when, but the longer we transmit, the higher the likelihood. What do you want to send out, if I may, sir?”

“I plan to speak directly to the citizens of both worlds.”

Hayworth gritted his teeth. “That is the last thing we need to do. You just said it yourself, General. It’s time to move on.”

David held up his hand. “Doctor, if they don’t make some changes, all of this was for nothing. Sixteen soldiers, Marines, and pilots gave their lives. I will not see that wasted.”

“Further interference, especially to assuage your guilt, is unwarranted.”

While David was used to Hayworth’s brisk manner and usually didn’t take anything negative from it, the words stung to the core. Anger welled up within him, and his first instinct was to tear a bloody verbal strip from the doctor. Instead, he fought it down and set his jaw. “Your input is noted.” He turned his gaze to Taylor. “Prepare what I ordered, Lieutenant.”

“Yes, sir.”

The others divided their stares between Hayworth and David, though the room's temperature seemed to turn cold after the doctor’s comment. Everyone sat up a bit straighter and tried to ignore the tension.

“Any saved rounds?” David asked. When no reply came after three seconds, he continued. “Then that will be all, ladies and gentlemen. You’re dismissed.”

As they all filed out of the room, many acknowledged David with a nod or a smile, which he returned. Amir hovered at the back of the line, as if he was waiting for the rest to leave. Once it was just the two of them, he stepped forward and closed the hatch. “Do you have a moment, sir?”

“Always, Hassan.” David gestured to the chair. “What’s on your mind?”

“This will seem strange coming from me, after all we’ve been through… but the loss of Lieutenant Kaplan is weighing on my soul.”

“I think I know what you mean.” David blew out a breath. “The lost soldiers from the Salinan, the Marines… and Lieutenant Kaplan affect me more than battles in which we had many more casualties against the League of Sol.”

Amir crossed his arms. “It doesn’t sound rational, does it?”

“Entirely rational, my friend. I’ve been doing a lot of pondering on the subject. I’d say we’re experiencing the emotional side effects of having won a generational war against an opponent who would’ve destroyed our civilization and massacred billions of civilians. And right when we started to experience a future without daily combat, here we are, four million light-years and change from home… fighting to prevent an alien species from destroying itself.”

“Kaplan chose to give his life, and while I didn’t know him well, I knew him well enough to know he was at peace with the choice.”

“There’s a Jewish maxim that whenever someone saves one life, it is as if he saved an entire world.” David pursed his lips. “It’s one of the reasons I decided to intervene in the first place. Kaplan saved millions of lives. That’s worth something.”

“I respect him for his sacrifice and choice to save others.” Amir put his hands on the table. “I hope this was the last time we have to engage in combat before getting home.”

“Me too.” Though somehow, I doubt it. A galaxy of species we’ve never met. There will be hostiles somewhere here. I’m smart enough to know that. “For now, I’ll be happy to depart this solar system and start putting it behind us.”

“Perhaps we could have a more robust memorial service.”

David nodded. “Of course.” There had already been small funerals for the personnel killed, but the thought of everyone coming together as much as possible to grieve made sense. It’s how we cope.

“Then I will leave you to it. Training new pilots on top of everything else will be a challenge.”

“You sure that’s best, if they washed out of flight school?”

Amir shrugged. “It’s all we have. Don’t worry. I’ll keep them on reserve unless we really need them.”

David offered a small smile. “And here’s to hoping we don’t.”

“From your lips to Allah’s ears.”

They both laughed and stood.

“We’re getting home,” David said. “Somehow.” He slapped Amir on the shoulder. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

“Yes, sir.”

As David made his way back to the bridge to stand watch, he pondered their next steps. Let’s hope Dr. Hayworth will be able to track down some decent planetary candidates for us to investigate further, and maybe we’ll hit the jackpot. Whatever it takes to get my people home. One step in front of the other, he was determined to get on with it.

32

After deciding to move on the Zeivlot system, David had one final mission in mind: addressing both worlds and telling them from an outsider's perspective how close they’d come to utter destruction. Vog’t, to his surprise, had agreed immediately to give them unfettered access to the planetary communication array. All nets and channels would carry the speech live. Zavlot, on the other hand, had rattled off a long string of oaths and hung up on Taylor when he placed the request. With the Lion’s advanced technology, however, it hadn’t taken long to patch into their entertainment systems. There would be no shutting off the broadcast.

Taylor had set up a holocamera in David’s day cabin right off the bridge and checked it twice with test signals before going live.

While used to speaking in front of groups of people, David had never delivered an address to multiple planets. And as such, he had an unusual feeling of butterflies in his stomach as he began to speak.

“Greetings, citizens of Zeivlot and Zavlot. I am David Cohen, a human and the commanding officer of the CSV Lion of Judah and her battlegroup of seven starships. Your normal channel and programming will return… after I’ve had a chance to talk to you. While I’m sure you’ve heard a lot about my species and the wondrous vessels we use to travel the stars, what I doubt you’ve been told is how much alike we truly are.”

David let out a breath and focused on the camera as much as possible. “Humans come in all shapes, sizes, colors, religions, and creeds. And today, the vast majority of us in the Terran Coalition work together for a better society. Like you, we gain fulfillment from our work, we seek to constantly improve ourselves, and I believe we’ve created a republic that’s a shining city on a hill. In our galaxy, it shows the way for others to follow.

“But it wasn’t always that way. Hundreds of years ago, humans fought repeated wars over our differences, including religious differences that today seem trivial and silly. It’s easy to hate what you don’t understand. Moreover, it’s been repeated throughout history. Someone blames their society's problems on an outside group, whips up hostility against that group, and treats them as less than human. Eventually, though, those tactics come home to roost. All of you found that out a few days ago when you huddled in your homes, businesses, and houses of worship while waiting for death.”

He paused and took a sip of water. “You were given something that many people throughout the universe would give anything for: a second chance. Don’t waste it.”

Vog’t had allowed David to deliver the speech he requested because from a technological perspective, they couldn’t stop him, and if it ever got out that the government had tried to prevent him from speaking, she would probably be executed in the streets. The population of Zeivlot had been encouraged to believe the human soldier was a prophet sent by the Maker, and David fulfilled that prophecy when he saved them all from certain doom.

She found his words much like a verbal sword thrust into her chest as she watched from a remote command bunker where the military chiefs continued to insist the government stay.

“Back on our home world of Earth, it took the advent of an ideology bent on world domination to force my people and those who make up the Terran Coalition today to set aside our hate, anger, and bitter recriminations. It wasn’t easy, and it didn’t happen overnight. But in the crucible of combat, men and women learn truths about themselves there is no other way to discover. Biggest among those is that it doesn’t matter what color, religion, or creed the person to your right or left is. All that matters is that you are brothers and sisters in arms.”

Glancing from person to person, Vog’t saw wonder in the eyes of her civilian advisors and military personnel. Do they take these words as from a prophet, from a highly advanced alien species… or simply another life-form making a plea for peace?

“Sadly for us, the lessons we learned were too late. Our branch of humanity had to escape to the stars and run for our lives. We believe it was only a miracle from God—our Maker—that allowed us to keep living and find the planet that would eventually become our new home. What humans called the Third World War cost hundreds of millions of lives. We… still don’t know the full toll. Only that evil triumphed.”

Do they worship the Maker too? Vog’t couldn’t answer the question. A few months prior, the concept of extrasolar life was the stuff of fiction, not serious discussion, and it was still hotly debated as to whether the humans had souls or if they could be considered believers.

“And even as tragic and horrible as the events that cast us into the stars were, there was, as there so often is, a silver lining to the darkness. Because out of the forge where we were all forced to work together while setting aside our petty differences and old hatreds came a new way of doing things. Today, I sit here as an Orthodox Jew in command of the mightiest warship in the Coalition Defense Force fleet. My wing commander is a Muslim, and my tactical officer is a Christian. The scientist who invented the revolutionary power source we use, an atheist.”

Everyone stared, most with their mouths open, at the screen as David continued to speak. Vog’t, too, was mesmerized. I had no idea they had so many belief systems.

“But more importantly, each of them is my friend. Men and women I would give my life for, and they for mine, if that’s what it took.

Man’da Gagne was a simple homemaker in the capital city of Zavlot. Her youngest child lay in his crib while the others were in various stages of completing their homework. She’d taken a short break from the afternoon’s activities to sit down and rest with a fruit cup. Gagne had turned on the entertainment device to watch a few minutes of her favorite reality show when the feed had cut off.

After David Cohen came on the screen, gradually, the entire family clustered around it, watching in fascination. Even her children didn’t make a sound, perhaps sensing they were watching something genuinely historic.

“You have two paths. It would only take a few years to build enough weapons to kill everyone on your respective worlds again. Or you could take a step forward. And work together to set aside hate, bitterness, and a universal desire for vengeance. One thing is certain. If you choose to rebuild those weapons and try again for Armageddon, the Lion of Judah won’t be there to stop you.

“‘We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.’ Those words were written over seven hundred years ago. They still guide us today.”

Gagne stared, captivated, at the alien being. She felt as if he were speaking directly to her.

“Governments exist to express the will of the people they govern. They exist solely to provide a framework for citizens to thrive within. They also should never forget that God has bestowed the fundamental rights of existence and liberty upon every being. Furthermore, governments exist to safeguard citizens from oppression—not to be the oppressor. From a simple reading of your history, it's clear that both worlds in this solar system forgot that a long time ago.”

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she pondered what the human was saying. Liberty was a concept they didn’t truly know. All Zavlots were expected to support the state and perform as instructed.

“Above all, you must learn how to coexist with people who don’t share your beliefs and opinions. In the Terran Coalition, there are dozens of planets with different models. On some, personal behavior is more tightly regulated. On others, the government is almost nonexistent. If you don’t like one, you’re free to move elsewhere. What we do share is mutual respect for every citizen. There have been times, including very recently, when that was tested. We came close to giving in to fear and turning on our fellow humans.”

David licked his lips and took another sip of water. “But we didn’t. When it counted, every citizen, every member world, came together and stood up to evil. That is what you must do today. I’m not telling you that you have to embrace everything the other side does. But for starters, you don’t have to kill one another over those differences.”

Hearing an alien state obvious truth, in such a plain way, seemed to pierce Gagne’s bones. The way he says it. It seems so simple now.

“If none of those appeals resonate, then I ask you to consider one final point. In our religious beliefs, it is regarded as one of the noblest actions for one human to give their life for another. I’ve made a cursory study of your religion, and that ideal appears in multiple places within it. Sixteen human beings paid the ultimate price to keep your two worlds from destroying themselves. They did so without fanfare or question. Those sixteen men and women represent the best humanity has to offer. Consider that as you collectively decide what to do next as a species. I bid you goodbye and wish you good luck and Godspeed. Major General David Cohen, Coalition Defense Force, out.”

Gagne felt as if someone had slapped her repeatedly during a nightmare, and she’d finally awoken. The sound of yelling from outside their apartment attracted her attention. In the streets below their high-rise building, thousands of people streamed into the roadway. Vehicles came to a stop amid a small sea of homemade protest signs. Every moment, more Zavlots exited their apartments and shops. It’s our time to act. To make something better.

“Come, children. We have something amazing to do.”

33

Several hours later, David had returned to the bridge and stood watch with the rest of the senior officers. He felt highly emotional afterward but decided it was best to be around his comrades in arms. Little was said, as David’s body language made it clear that he wished to be left alone. He busied himself with reading readiness reports and scanning lists of spare parts, food, and munitions, the most mundane of all busywork. All the while, the ever-present question wouldn’t leave his mind: Was this worth it? Did we do the right thing?

A nudge from Aibek brought him out of mental revelry, and he found Taylor staring at him.

“Sir?”

“Apologies, Lieutenant. Got wrapped up in a warhead inventory.” David managed a weak smile.

“Of course, sir. There’s a transmission coming across the Zavlot information system. You’re going to want to see this first-hand, sir.” Taylor’s face beamed with a smile so radiant that it seemed to light up the entire bridge.

Exchanging glances with Aibek, David nodded. “Then put it on.”

On the monitor above the CO’s and XO’s chairs, the screen came alive with a blurry image that gradually improved until it was possible to make out large crowds in a central metropolitan area. A graphical overlay contained text in a language that David couldn’t read, but it was reasonably easy to deduce a significant protest was underway. In all directions, a mass of people was on every street, extending as far as the eye could see.

“Lieutenant, can we get a translation?”

“One moment, sir. Ah, the chyron says that it’s a live feed from the capitol of Zavlot, where an estimated three million citizens are marching toward the seat of government.”

The view panned to show thousands of handmade signs, and about then, the translation of the newscaster came through. “We’re seeing calls for the removal of the government, peace between our two worlds, and wild support for the humans.” The image zoomed in. “This placard thanks the humans for saving us and offers some colorful metaphors for our leader.”

“We have a live shot of the palace. Let’s move to that now.” The voice was female and seemed to be another one of the unseen newscasters.

A moment later, a different view came on the screen, showing a massive and ornate building. It reminded David of an abstract art painting mixed with prefabbed plasticrete panels. The effect was interesting while a bit jarring. He wasn’t quite sure what he was looking at. Lines of uniformed personnel ringed the grounds along with armored vehicles and heavy weaponry. Throngs of civilians marched forward in what could only be described as a wave of Zavlots.

“My God,” David said. Staring at the screen, he prayed the troops wouldn’t open fire. Could we intervene? David ran through several scenarios before ruling them out.

“A true warrior does not kill innocents,” Aibek hissed.

“They won’t shoot,” Ruth said as she turned around. “No one’s that insane.”

David gave her a look. “The League?”

“I’d like to believe even the League Navy wouldn’t massacre its own people.”

“No, they just sent them into the meat grinder for us to do it for them,” David replied darkly.

The mob of civilians reached the front lines of the military force, and with an odd precision that David found inspiring, they went around the barricades and simply kept going. The soldiers melted away, and some even joined the protesters.

“We… I don’t know what to say. This is unprecedented,” the newscaster remarked.

Loud shouts and the sound of smashed equipment emanated from the speakers. The camera cut to a view of the studio where the presenters sat as swarms of people rushed in, screaming.

David stared in utter fascination coupled with shock.

One of the women got in front of the camera and shouted loudly enough that her voice carried into the microphones around the stage. “We would’ve lost everything… our children, families, and homes… were it not for the Maker and the humans. The cycle must end! Rise up and refuse to go along with this corrupt regime. General Cohen was right!”

The feed cut off abruptly, leaving the bridge in total silence.

David turned to Taylor. “What happened?”

“Lost the transmission, sir. Some test message is going out, I think from what we’d call a civil defense system.”

“Lieutenant Hammond, you have the conn,” David announced, standing. “All senior officers, report to the deck one conference room. Comms, get Dr. Hayworth to join us along with Yoshino.” His eyes went to Tinetariro. “You too, Master Chief.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” Tinetariro replied.

David strode off the bridge, a million thoughts running through his head. What’s the next move, and should there even be one? He wasn’t quite sure what to do but felt it prudent to take stock of the situation and get advice from as many of his people as possible. Where there is no counsel, the people fall, but in the multitude of counselors, there is safety. The verse from Proverbs brought a smile to his lips as he walked on.

Fifteen minutes later, David took his seat at the head of the conference room table. The atmosphere had an air of anticipation to it unlike he’d felt in quite a while.

“The events of the last hour have… altered my perception of the situation. It would appear we’ve had considerably more of an impact than I anticipated.”

Hayworth let out a sigh. “Unintended consequences, though in this case, welcome ones for now.”

David eyed him. “For now?”

“The Zavlots are riding a wave of emotion. It will fade, and their suspicions of us will grow, as we’re outsiders.” Hayworth crossed his arms. “That’s how these sorts of things go.”

“With respect, Doctor, I’m not sure that’s correct,” Lieutenant Yoshino said as he spread his hands out on the table. “As I walked in here for the briefing, my people were decoding SIGINT from the highest levels of the Zavlot regime. Things on the ground are fluid and happening exceedingly fast, but so far, the entire government has resigned, probably rather than face public execution. An opposition party that’s argued for de-escalation for decades while relegated to the sidelines of the political discourse has stepped up. My assessment is they will form a new cabinet and put their leader in as a caretaker until elections can be held.”

“Or they declare a series of emergencies, and someone becomes a dictator.”

“While that’s a possibility, Doctor…” David steepled his fingers. “I think we have a responsibility here to try to keep it from happening.”

Hayworth stared him down. “And how exactly would you propose preventing it? Perhaps we should deploy a few hundred thousand ground troops and an equal number of civilian support staff?”

“That’s a bit pessimistic,” David replied. “And since when do you know best practices for regime change?”

“Of course it is, General. I’ve been alive for almost eighty years, long enough to know that situations like this are sticky, and we never get out of them.” Hayworth smirked. “I’ve also been on this ship for a few years and picked up your lingo.”

David sat back and shifted. He’s probably right, but we can’t turn aside. Years prior, he’d assisted with an off-the-books invasion of a neutral human-held planet. The incident nearly cost David his career, but it had been the right thing to do then. And this is what’s right now. “I need some ideas on how to engage with both sides, ladies and gentlemen.”

“A meeting. What do you call it? A summit?” Ruth interjected. “Maybe both planets are interested in, you know, not killing every living thing on their respective surfaces now.”

“What would the objective be?” Aibek hissed softly. “Beyond the obvious.”

“Keep them from killing one another,” David replied. “And maintain our access to the artifact. Let’s not kid ourselves. We have a reason to stay here.”

“I disagree.” Hayworth gestured at the holoprojector in the middle of the table. “I’ve already found more candidates for worlds we should investigate to see if there’s advanced and related technology on them. This solar system is not the end-all, be-all, of whether we get home.”

“This is about more than just us.” Hanson leaned forward. “The general’s right. We can help these people. They’ve started the job, and if we stick around, we can help them finish it, and the bonus prize is maybe getting home sooner.”

Nods met the statement, and David was impressed by Hanson’s simple clarity. “I usually expect an engineer to draw something out, but you put that succinctly and accurately, Major.” He grinned.

“Thanks, sir.”

David turned to Yoshino. “How shaky does the Zeivlot government look?”

“Nowhere near as bad as Zavlot,” Yoshino replied with a chuckle. “Vog’t’s a decent leader, and they’ve experienced more freedom over the last few decades. That’s not to say there aren’t loud street protests, and they’re getting louder. So far, she’s only deployed civil police and riot-control forces. We see no evidence of paramilitary types or human rights abuses.”

“Lieutenant Taylor, send a statement to the Zeivlots, acknowledging their respect for peaceful protest, and encourage them to continue down that road if they want any chance of engagement with us.”

“Yes, sir.”

“What’s the plan, sir?” Ruth asked. “I can see the wheels turning.”

David let out a snicker. “I need to work on my poker face, apparently.” The smile disappeared as he adopted a neutral expression. “Whatever we do for one race, we must do for the other. The Terran Coalition—through this fleet—cannot take sides. Honest brokers, down the middle. I’ve got some ideas, but I’ll want to talk to each leader one-on-one before moving forward.”

“I would like to say that while I believe you have the best of intentions, General, our interference with this culture has brought about changes already that were nearly catastrophic. You must acknowledge that. We can’t conceive of what might happen next.”

“Doctor, they would’ve blown themselves up sooner or later,” Ruth said, her face red. “I get you’re all about noninterference, but we saved billions of lives. Doesn’t that count for something with you?”

Biting his lip, Hayworth scowled before softening his expression. “What right do we have to make those changes? Or let me put it a different way that might resonate with you, Captain… Who are we to play God?”

“If you’re going there, how do we know that God didn’t want this exact sequence of events to occur?”

Hayworth shrugged. “If God existed, He wouldn’t need any of us. But that aside, the ripple effects from here… we can’t plot. The more we interfere, the more those will come back and bite us and the universe at large in the rear end.”

“On balance, two planets, billions saved, and both sides seeing the error of their ways is good enough for me,” David interjected, hoping to calm the debate.

“What do you think will happen when the specter of certain death fades?” Hayworth asked.

David let out a breath. “I don’t think it will. Because when you look death in the face, it sticks with you. At least it has for me.”

“Harrumph.” Hayworth crossed his arms. “What do you want me to do to help this endeavor?”

“Find a way home.” David set his jaw. “Let’s get our arms around what’s going on out there, people. Lieutenant Taylor, contact the leadership of both planets, and get one-on-one meetings set up between whoever's in charge and me ASAP.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Everyone else… heads on a swivel. I don’t know what’s next, but it's bound to be interesting.”

CSV Lion of Judah

Midpoint between Zeivlot and Zavlot

16 March, 2464

Since the overthrow of the Zavlot regime, events had moved at a breakneck pace. Daily discussions between Zupan Vog’t and the new leader of Zavlot, Ran’ta Olgsian, had led to surprising breakthroughs between the two sides. While not a diplomat, David felt they had to strike while the iron was hot. Chances like this, when two separate nations hate one another with such animosity that they’ve repeatedly nuked one another over tens of thousands of years, suddenly willing to sit down and talk, do not come often.

With help from his senior staff, other commanding officers from the fleet, and Dr. Hayworth, David had put together a list of points that both sides had been asked to accept. Once they had, David had arranged for a formal summit. To allay fears, it was agreed that the Lion of Judah would host both sets of dignitaries. As a symbolic gesture, the Lion would remain in a static solar parking orbit precisely halfway between the two planets, once taking both groups aboard.

At the request of Vog’t and Olgsian, the summit was to be as informal as possible. Only the two of them, David, and four security officers would be present in the Lion’s deck one conference room. Each leader brought one close-protection agent, and two TCMC Marines stood guard. The only indication a major diplomatic event was about to occur was flags from both worlds and the Terran Coalition festooning the room.

David adjusted the collar of his dress uniform. It felt scratchy, though that was true of the entire uniform. He hated dressing up and it took him fifteen minutes to make sure his campaign ribbons, medals, pins, and insignia were all perfectly lined up. There’s no one out here to grade me, but gosh, perfection in this is ingrained. Also, if he got something wrong, Master Chief Tinetariro would see it. For reasons he couldn’t explain, that bothered him more than anything.

The hatch to the conference room swung up, and David stood hastily as Vog’t strode through, a single male in a sharp uniform behind her. A sidearm was visible on the protection officer’s waist. “Welcome to the Lion of Judah, Zupan.”

Vog’t’s eyes were as wide as saucers. “Thank you, General Cohen. I must confess to being in awe of this vessel. Its advances… are overwhelming.” She gestured to the floor. “How is that we can walk upright, like there is normal gravity?”

“Artificial-gravity generators. Don’t ask me exactly how they work.” He flashed a grin. “I only know that they do. We couldn’t function in space without it. Even limited amounts of time in microgravity are highly disruptive to the human body.”

“Ours as well… which is why we don’t have much of a presence in space.”

Another figure walked through the open hatch. A male two meters tall wore a simple suit that reminded David of something he might’ve seen in generations gone by in the Terran Coalition. The man extended his hand. “Ran’ta Olgsian at your service, General. We haven’t decided on what formal name to give the leader of our government yet. So you may address me however you wish.” His eyes tracked to Vog’t, and there was a moment of tension between the two. “Zupan. An honor to meet you in the flesh.”

David stepped back and gave the two space to shake hands, which they did by grasping each other’s forearms.

“Thank you, Mr. Olgsian and Zupan Vog’t.” His mouth curled into a grin. “I hope that’s okay, Mr. Olgsian. The Coalition Defense Force trains you to call everyone by their surname. You could say it's wired into our DNA.”

Olgsian chuckled politely. “As I said, I don’t care. Frankly, I’m still overwhelmed I was asked to serve. That a series of essays on the danger of religious hatred would cause my fellow citizens to demand I lead them, well, that’s something I’m having a hard time fathoming.”

“Please, have a seat, both of you.” David sat at the head of the table, while they sat on either side. The security details remained standing. “I’d like to thank you for taking this step today. My understanding is it’s the first time in thousands of years that either side has met in person.”

Vog’t nodded. “There are minimal records, but we think our distant ancestors originated on the same planet and, at one time, traveled between both worlds. Since the first war, however, that hasn’t been repeated.”

“I see.” David turned to Olgsian. “Zavlot seems to be at a disadvantage here, as your governmental organization is still quite, ah, murky.”

“We’re trying to get it right this time.” He glanced between Vog’t and David. “For generations, our society has been built around hate for the… Zeivlots and a desire to build up our military to the point of being able to destroy them. It’s left little for other pursuits, and I believe my people are finally ready for change.”

“It’s an admirable goal.”

“We welcome that change on Zeivlot,” Vog’t interjected. “Just as we welcome the removal of your previous government as an impediment to peace.”

David groaned inwardly.

“I would remind you, Madame Zupan, that you gave an order to directly fire thousands of fusion warheads at my home,” Olgsian replied without a missing a beat. He stared at her.

To Vog’t’s credit, she met the stare with one of her own. “I did. After your planet fired on us… because extremists took over a launch center and tried to start another Armageddon. We have much to answer for. The only reason I didn’t resign is because I truly believe I can work to achieve peace.”

“This is going to be extremely difficult for everyone,” David said, thankful neither of them had derailed the discussion. “But I believe you can find common ground.”

“You are clearly more advanced than us, General Cohen. What advice can you offer? Help us to do what’s right here,” Vog’t replied.

David bit his lip. “We might be more advanced than you in terms of technology, but we still fight wars. Humans still struggle with our failures and shortcomings. Just because we can travel between the stars doesn’t mean we’re perfect. That said, I think the best thing both sides can do here is grow your contacts. It’s vital that you view one another as fellow people.” He gestured between the two of them. “By just looking at your faces, I can see you come from very similar DNA, and that backs up the records you have of one planet being colonized at some point in the distant past by folks from the other. Or let me put it this way… Humans have, throughout our history, tended to reduce enemies we’ve fought to something less than us. Call it subhuman.”

“Why?” Olgsian asked.

“Because frankly, it’s a lot easier to kill beings you don’t think of as being on the same level as you,” David replied. “I know something about this because I spent the last twenty years of my life fighting the League of Sol. Other humans who wanted to take over and enslave my people.”

Olgsian frowned. “This is insensitive of me, General, but did you take life in the course of your service?”

“Yes,” David replied unflinchingly. “Through my orders and with my own hands. And while I believe that fighting a war, especially one that is defensive in nature, within the agreed-upon bounds of conduct extended from the Canaan Convention on Human and Alien Rights, is not an immoral action… I have struggled with what I’ve done. So have most of the rest of us in the CDF. One should never become immune to the cost of war.”

“What kind of contacts do you recommend, General?” Vog’t asked.

David felt glad for her question. Discussion of the League war and the tens of thousands of Leaguers he’d killed over the years was not at the top of his list for popular conversation topics. “Governmental outreach programs to start. Lines of communication between different levels of people in your respective governments and a direct line between the two leaders. I’d also recommend military interactions with the aim of building back-channel communications and trust between both sides.”

They both nodded as David continued. “You must also pledge—and enforce it with monitors from both worlds—to never build another IPBM.”

“IPBM?” Olgsian asked.

“Interplanetary ballistic missile. What we call the things you almost ended all life in this system with.”

“If we lack those weapons, how can we ensure our safety?” Vog’t asked.

David let out a breath. “There were times in human civilization when the presence of weapons of mass destruction kept the peace. Your people have proven time and again that instead of deterring war, you’ll use them. The only way to prevent the cycle from starting anew is to not rebuild those weapons. Any assistance from my forces is predicated on that pledge.”

They stared at each other. It seemed neither wanted to be the first to speak.

Vog’t finally cleared her throat. “I will ask the simple question, General. If we do as you ask, will you pledge to keep the peace?”

“My thought on that matter is I cannot keep the peace. While the Lion of Judah and her battlegroup are mighty warships, yes, we lack the numbers to do much on the surface of your two planets. We can be partners to helping all of you keep the peace and grow to trust one another.”

Olgsian shifted uncomfortably. “And how would you propose to do that, General Cohen?”

“Because of your people’s focus on relentless war, you’ve not made a few specific technological achievements needed to grow beyond your solar system. For starters, most of your raw materials are used up. You need to mine asteroids to get those materials. I believe if you focus on lifting the conditions on both worlds, it will greatly help the cause of healing the hatred.”

“We can’t do that because we lack the spacecraft to do so and the tech to haul them back into orbit.”

David flashed a smile. “Which we have.”

“And you would give this to us, without strings attached?” Olgsian asked sharply.

“Not exactly.” David held up a hand. “We have stringent rules around the transfer of technology. Even what I’m about to propose is probably illegal under Coalition law, but since we’re four and a half million light-years from home, I think it’s the right move, and the ayes have it. In short, we’ll help both planets set up a space elevator, orbital infrastructure, and the craft required to mine asteroids in your inner belt. The strings… are that CDF personnel will oversee the construction and operation of everything. Furthermore, while we will build and install fusion reactors in each space station, no one that isn’t CDF will be allowed to touch those reactors. At least, not for the foreseeable future.”

“How will you address the suspicion that humanity wants something from us?” Olgsian asked. “Especially if gifts given will come with limitations.”

David spread his hands out on the table. “I understand your point of view. It’s one that some of my officers and advisors have pointed out, quite forcefully, I might add, to me. But I cannot in good conscience give you free rein of a piece of technology that you could use to kill not only one another but also other life-forms in this galaxy.” He set his jaw. “You want more? Prove to us you can handle it. And while we’re on the subject, integrated crews of Zeivlots and Zavlots would be a good place to start in terms of building bridges between your worlds.”

“I believe your motives are pure and sincere, General,” Vog’t interjected. “But as Olgsian has artfully pointed out, not everyone will share that view. Many will not. You and the other humans must prove to us that there is no ulterior motive.”

“At any point, Zupan, if you don’t want us here, the only thing you need to do is tell us. We will move on.”

Vog’t licked her lips. “I pray to the Maker it never comes to that.”

“No one wants to volunteer to start integrating their spaceships?” David asked. I already know the answer, but it'll never happen if I don’t prod them.

“That is probably a bit too much for us to consider today,” Olgsian replied. “Perhaps after some time has passed. Would you agree, Zupan Vog’t?”

She nodded. “I would. Sometimes rapid change can have undesired side effects.”

“Have you both had a chance to review the Status of Forces agreement we sent last week?”

Olgsian glanced at Vog’t. “I believe we have, though I have a question.”

“Of course,” David replied.

“You propose to leave only three vessels here. Two destroyers and one support ship. That doesn’t seem like a lot compared to what you have.”

David shrugged. “It’s the best we can do. That’ll leave the Lion with only four escorts. I don’t know what we’ll run into out there, but I must safeguard my command. That’s best done together. Two Ajax-class destroyers and the CSV Salinan are nothing to sneeze at, however. They’ll get what needs to be done accomplished, and they’re more than enough to prevent any… rogue elements… from disturbing the peace.”

Vog’t made eye contact with Olgsian, who nodded almost imperceptibly. “Then I have a suggestion to finalize our meeting.”

“By all means, Zupan.”

“I believe that our people may yet find unity in knowing there is more beyond this solar system. While you are proof of alien life, you come from another galaxy. Who knows what else lies beyond. From what I’ve been told, you also suffer from a shortage of scientists, do you not?”

David furrowed his brow. “We do.” Where’s she going?

“Both Zeivlot and Zavlot have plenty. Perhaps we could offer you a complement of trained scientists, botanists, archeologists, and other disciplines as you need them. In exchange, let them tell their stories once they return home.”

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” Olgsian interjected.

They’ve already talked it over. The realization hit David like a bolt of lightning, but he thought it was a good thing. Ultimately, both planets needed to find a reason to work together. If a healthy skepticism of a powerful alien species is the reason, so be it.

“I think we’d be very open to that sort of an arrangement, Zupan, provided there were equal numbers from both worlds, and everyone who set foot on my ship would undergo a vetting process that includes administration of a lie detector examination.”

“I see no problems from my perspective, General,” Vog’t replied.

“We agree as well.”

“Then it’s settled.” David flashed a grin. “I’d say this has made for a productive first meeting. Let’s get to some of the finer points the diplomatic teams put together before we head out to let the press take pictures.”

As the two leaders turned to the minutiae of policy sausage making, David reflected on things going swimmingly so far. This could’ve been far worse. Regardless of Dr. Hayworth’s feelings, I think we can help these people. And I’m going to do everything in my power to try.

Once the leaders had left, David felt deflated. So much work had gone into the leadup to their visit, and once it was over, he wanted to sleep for a week. Not that I can even sleep six hours a night. Instead, he ended up back in his day cabin, examining reports from the battlegroup. The damage to the Salinan had been repaired, at least as much as it could be without a trip to an orbital drydock.

The hatch buzzer went off, and before David could say anything, the hatch swung open.

Hayworth shuffled in, looking like a man who’d run a marathon and was about to collapse. “Mind if I sit?” The hatch closed on its own.

“By all means,” David replied and gestured to one of the chairs in front of his desk.

“Sometimes I forget how large this ship is and how old I am.” Hayworth dropped into the chair and took several deep breaths. “I should probably see about having Dr. Tural give me a physical.”

“Yes, good health is important.” David peered at him. “What can I do for you?”

“I wanted to discuss how things work going forward with the Zeivlots and Zavlots.”

David pulled himself up a bit straighter. He wasn’t interested in another debate on the subject. “Doctor, we’ve both made our positions clear, in triplicate. I doubt they’re changing anytime soon.”

Hayworth frowned. “I was direct and rough on you. That’s my nature.”

“I’m aware.” David cracked a grin. “I appreciate the bluntness, Doctor. It’s not a bug in my book but a feature.”

“Were I in your shoes, I would’ve taken a different tack at first, but… you made the right call, saving them. We wouldn’t be humans if we abandoned our humanity.”

The admission surprised David. He blinked a few times. “I… appreciate that, Doctor.”

“My fear is that you will make a habit out of it.”

David eyed him. “How so?”

“Will we help every alien civilization we come across?”

“I’d hope this was an aberration.” David furrowed his brow. “It stands to reason that there are larger alien empires here, much like in the Milky Way. Perhaps some of them keep the peace.”

Hayworth harrumphed. “I suspect the peace between the Terran Coalition, the Saurian Empire, and the Matrinid Republic is unusual in the cosmos. More likely, advanced civilizations fight until one is left.”

“That’s a depressing thought.” David blew out a breath. I pray he’s wrong. That scenario would be awful for us, and I’d like to believe advanced life everywhere would see that war is an ultimately self-defeating method for resolving political disputes. He realized that was probably too much to hope for but clung to the hope.

“The truth often is. How do you plan to avoid first-contact situations like this one?”

David allowed himself to smile. “Would you say that our primary issue is lacking the science support aboard to do things like decoding an alien race’s language?”

“Among other things.”

“Both the Zeivlots and the Zavlots have offered to provide scientists of all types to assist us. Think of it as an exchange program. The obvious benefit to them is they can explore the cosmos on our ship, and we get their services.”

Hayworth narrowed his eyes. “You want me to oversee them.”

“I do.” David crossed his arms. “You’re the best we have and the only qualified human scientist in the fleet.”

“Do I look like someone who enjoys people management to you?” Hayworth shook his head. “I detest such matters, General. Give me a lab and a problem, then stay out of my way until I’m done. That’s how I’ve worked for the last thirty years and how I intend to end my days.”

“Doctor, I need you, and the fleet needs you to do this. You’re light-years ahead of the folks from either planet, but I have every confidence you can whip them into shape and help us avoid bad situations. This is especially important since we can’t get access to the artifact on Zievlot for now.” Vog’t felt, and David agreed, that introducing a human led science effort around the obelisk would invite too much risk. It will still be there in a few months.

“Would I have carte blanche to organize research as I see fit?”

“Within reason. This is still a CDF vessel, and you remain under my command.”

“I’m not wearing a uniform.”

David knew at that moment that the doctor would do the job. He nodded. “I wouldn’t require you to. But you’ll still need to stand watch on the bridge and attend staff meetings.”

“Fine.” Hayworth raised an eyebrow. “Since when are aliens allowed on the Lion of Judah for more than a tour?”

“Since we ended up four and a half million light-years from home, and I decided I will do everything in my power to get this crew back to Canaan.”

“Touché.” Hayworth smirked slightly. “We’ll need some space for labs and testing areas.”

“Talk to the master chief. She’ll assist you.”

“Will I get a seat at the table, General?”

“Doctor, your input is always welcome.”

Hayworth harrumphed loudly. “I’ll hold you to that.”

“Is there anything else, Doctor?”

“No. Is that my cue?”

“More paperwork awaits.” David gestured to his tablet.

“Ah, of course.” He stood and ambled toward the hatch before turning around. “You realize that this is far from over despite the improvements?”

David felt his face heat. “Trust me, I’m under no illusions. There will be further conflict, and we’ll manage it as best we can.”

Hayworth nodded. “Just making sure you’re still tethered to reality and not buying into the propaganda they spewed about this ship being sent by God.”

“We don’t know if God meant for us to be here or not, Doctor.” David smiled thinly. “I’ll leave that to sort out for another time.”

“Good day, then.” After the physicist disappeared through the hatch, it closed behind him.

Silence engulfed the small office, and David leaned back. This will be a mess. But there was also a kernel of hope and even pride in the Lion of Judah being at the forefront of perhaps bringing a better way of doing things to a galaxy so far from home. If I can avoid screwing up. The words of David’s old commanding officer, Benson Pipes, jumped into his mind. Never let yourself get a big head. He smiled and went back to work.

34

While the reaction of the Zeivlots and Zavlots had been something of a shock to Ruth and, she suspected, most of the soldiers in the battlegroup, it was a positive shock. Trying to knock down strategic weapons headed for civilian population centers was something she’d never done, not even at the height of the wars against the League of Sol. But that’s over now.

Ruth sat across from Robert, out of uniform and in one of the more private officers’ messes belowdecks. Their duty shifts were over, and they’d promised to have a date. It seemed silly, but some level of normalcy amid the whirling mass of chaos around them was needed.

“Ah, that tastes good.” Robert set the glass of red wine down. “I wonder how many bottles the stewards really have back there.”

“Like they’d tell us,” Ruth replied with a grin. “Come on, that’s half the fun. And be assured that the goat locker has a secret stash of everything.”

“You need to get us an invite to the chief’s mess.”

Ruth giggled. “Uh-huh.” Her expression turned somber. “I still feel like I’m in a dream… or a daze.”

“Yeah. Me too. Keep hoping I’ll wake up, and this will have been some crazy nightmare that I could write down and sell to War Patrol as a script idea.” Robert sat back and stretched his neck.

“You seem tense.”

“Somewhat, yeah. It’s been a nutty four months. Frankly, I’m having difficulty coming to terms with where we are. The idea we might not see our family again… It really bothers me.”

“Yeah.”

“You disagree?”

Ruth closed her eyes for a moment. “Robert, I don’t want to come off as insensitive, because I know how much you love your parents, siblings, and that small army you call a family. But I don’t have one. I’ve got a few friends and you.” She forced a smile to her lips. “That’s all I need.”

“Then let's move in together.”

Part of her had been dreading that conversation for a month because she knew it was coming, sooner or later. “Robert… we’re bridge officers. We can’t just shack up.”

“Different departments, and I’m not sure if you’re paying attention, but a good ten percent of the people on the Lion have started seeing each other. That figure will only grow.”

“Well, I don’t really—”

“Honey, the general is okay with it. So are the rest of the ship COs. Everyone recognizes that humans need companionship and that there’s a halfway decent chance we’ll never get home.”

Ruth stared at him blankly. “And?”

“Don’t you see we’re lucky? Instead of having to sit and ponder if, when, or how it's okay to allow yourself to feel something for another when you have someone else waiting at home… we have each other, and we’re both posted to the same ship.”

She blinked. That line of thought hadn’t really occurred to her. “But…”

“Is there something else?”

“Maybe I’m afraid.” Ruth glanced off to the side. “I’m set in my ways, Robert. You might reconsider once you experience living with me.”

“I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? I discover you take two hours to get dressed?”

Ruth made a big show of rolling her eyes. “I’m out the hatch in fifteen minutes just like everyone else on this ship, thank you very much.” A girly girl, she was not. And never will be.

Taylor laughed and put his hand on hers. “Yeah, I didn’t think so. Look, this will be good for us and especially for you.”

“Promise?”

“As much as I can.”

She closed her eyes again. “Okay. We’ll give it a shot.”

“Great. I’ll talk to the master chief about switching quarters. There’s plenty of VIP space open that has a larger footprint.”

Ruth suppressed a shiver. “She’s okay with this?”

“Surprisingly, yeah. It’s mildly unofficial, but that’s what I understand the process is.”

“Okay. One but, though.”

“Which is?”

“I’m not having a baby on this ship, just so we’re clear.”

Taylor gave a grin that was almost a smirk. “I wouldn’t dream of suggesting that, dear.”

“Oh, I know you, Robert Taylor.” She pinched his arm. “I’m being serious. Babies have to wait.”

After a small yelp, he squeezed her hand. “Yes.”

The dinner continued, and despite feeling lost in the middle of a strange land, Ruth knew there was no one in the universe she would rather go through what they were experiencing with, other than him and the rest of her friends on the Lion. The next day would come, and she would rise to face it until David guided them home.

After another long day, David finally shut off his tablet and prepared to leave his day cabin. The dinner hour had come and gone, as had the time for evening prayers. The crush of paperwork, once abated, had returned as the intelligence shop under Yoshino’s direction had extensively examined each of the scientists submitted to join the Lion of Judah under the proposed Zeivlot-Zavlot exchange program. While each planet’s security services had offered background checks, at David’s direction, Yoshino had conducted wide-ranging discussions under a lie detector coupled with independent reviews of each candidate’s social media feeds. It had taken some doing, but they had a pretty decent idea of the potential risk to the ship from each of them.

To David’s pleasant surprise, almost all of the scientists were what they appeared to be: apolitical people seeking to enhance their people’s understanding of the universe. It seemed for the moment that both sides were playing it straight. He was about to stand and leave when the hatch buzzer chimed.

“Come in!” Who could that be at this late hour?

The hatch swung open, and Rabbi Kravitz ambled in. “Good evening, David.”

“Rabbi, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Oh, I wanted to check on how you were doing. Especially since I haven’t seen much of you in the shul lately.”

And that’s his way of gently chiding me for not showing up to prayers. “Forgive me.” David gestured to the tablet, still lying on his desk. “The work never ends.”

“In more ways than one.”

David felt grateful that Kravitz didn’t probe further. Before he could speak, the old rabbi continued.

“If I had to guess, I would say you’re avoiding worship because you remain troubled.”

The words fell out of his mouth, and their frankness made David blink. He pondered them before nodding. “You’re probably right. I… my crew and the entire fleet are stuck out here. I don’t know if I can get them home or not.”

“How’s worrying about that nonstop going for you?” Kravitz stared at him with a hawk-like gaze.

David leaned back. “Not so well. Sleep is difficult. When I do get some rest, it’s filled with nightmares, and… even though we succeeded in what I ordered, I sent more of my people to their deaths.” He let out a sigh. “Rabbi, I’m so sick of that. I thought we were finally done. I really did.”

Kravitz put his hand on top of David’s. “I told you when we first got into this galaxy to consider that Hashem knows what He’s doing, and that we’re following His path for our lives.”

“Perhaps.” If this is Adonai’s plan, I don’t care for it. David set his jaw. “My first duty remains to get this ship and the rest of the fleet home. Safe and sound.”

“And in the meantime?”

“Try to help the Zeivlots and Zavlots as best as we can.” David shrugged. “I’m in uncharted territory, Rabbi. It’s as if I’m flying by the seat of my pants and dragging thirteen thousand soldiers along for the ride.” All his doubts and fears thundered up to the surface.

“So far, so good, I might say.”

“What happens next week, Rabbi? These people, they’re ruled by fear. They’ve given in to fear and anger. It colors every thought, every action they take. They’ve got to want to break that cycle. I can’t make them. There’s also this rather persistent belief of theirs that I’m somehow sent here by God as a prophet.” David shook his head. “For all of Vog’t’s positives, I remain privately outraged she got that going.”

“Perhaps we were all sent by Hashem. It is not for us to know. But the fact remains—you cannot take all this on your own shoulders. Aside from asking God to help and giving the weight to Him, you must also lean on those around you. All of us have a part to play in the events to come.”

David sat forward and bit his lip. “I’m trying.”

Kravitz stood. “I know. Just, ah, come to shul tomorrow?”

“Yes. Bright and early.”

“Good. I’ll see you there.” As he reached the hatch, he turned back. “Godspeed.”

David pursed his lips. “You, too, Rabbi.”

As Kravitz departed, the hatch closed behind him. It left David in total silence while he pondered the situation. He could do nothing more except soldier on. That sounds so easy and antiseptic. One foot in front of the other, once more unto the breach. As difficult as it was for him, David resolved to give what he could to the Lord and focus solely on what was within his ability to alter. He hoped it would be enough.

35

Hall of Justice

Zeivlot

23 March, 2464

While time marched on inexorably, Vog’t was determined not to forget the harsh lessons of the past few cycles. She’d toured the devastated blast zone in the southern continent and seen the horrors of a fusion blast that had left the victims closest to the core reduced to nothing more than a burnt outline on the pavement. After witnessing the destruction firsthand, Vog’t felt as if everyone on both her world and Zavlot should be forced to walk through the area and see what had almost happened to them.

Such were her thoughts as she visited the Hall of Justice, where the leadership of the planetary security apparatus was housed. Under normal circumstances, Vog’t would summon the minister of justice, but she’d decided it was better to engage in the pomp and circumstance of a formal tour. After an hour spent going through different levels and speaking with numerous agents, she ended up in the minister’s office.

Accompanied by a single protective service agent and the foreign minister, Vog’t waited until the door shut behind them then slid into an ornate wooden chair that was one of several to grace the expansive room decorated with numerous antique pieces.

“Your presence is always welcome, Zupan,” Me’tin Gun’ay said. Beads of sweat shone on his forehead.

“I assume you wish to know the true purpose of my visit?”

Gun’ay pursed his lips and nodded.

“There must be significant changes in the entirety of our society, and they begin here.”

“I don’t follow, ma’am.”

Vog’t set her jaw. “Would you agree we have a problem with terrorism?”

“Of course we do. It’s been an issue for decades.”

“Take the gloves off. I want anyone connected with the fringe groups probed for ties with terrorist cells, and you are specifically directed to go after funding sources.”

Gun’ay grimaced. “There are civil liberty concerns—”

“Did you perhaps notice that we came within a few minutes of our world being turned into a sheet of glass?”

“Well, yes. Of course.”

“Did you listen to General Cohen’s comments on the matter?”

“Yes.”

Vog’t leaned forward. “Then I expect you to take concrete action immediately. If that’s not something you’re willing to do, tell me now, and I’ll nominate a replacement.”

“We’ve conducted covert surveillance of every extremist group we can find for years. I’ll personally see to rolling them up.”

“That’s not good enough.”

Gun’ay blinked. “I don’t understand.”

“A small percentage of our population is willing to strap bombs to their chests and blow themselves apart to further the cause. The portion willing to fund such activities is far larger. They hide in plain view, and no matter how many terrorists we put away, it will do nothing if the money isn’t stopped.”

“We’ve always had a… tacit understanding that low-level operatives were fair game, but to avoid violence breaking out in a larger arena, those financiers are off limits.”

Vog’t crossed her arms. “That understanding is rescinded. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Zupan.”

“Good.” She turned to Ergin Tas’ci. “What came of our request for a bilateral summit with Ran’ta Olgsian?”

“They’re unwilling to meet on Zeivlot, ma’am, citing security concerns. Perhaps we could arrange to hold it on one of the human vessels left in orbit.”

We could, but… Vog’t mulled over the idea. No. We must do things differently. “Ergin, I want you to plan for me to attend a summit on Zavlot.”

Tas’ci stood and seemed as if he wanted to jump over the desk. “Zupan, you cannot go to that planet. We can’t guarantee your safety, and… our people can’t lose you. Not now. It would send Zeivlot into chaos and probably end in civil war.”

“So we just accept the status quo?” Vog’t gestured with her hands. “That’s no longer an option, gentlemen. Not after coming face-to-face with the deaths of everyone I hold dear and every citizen on this planet. No. I will stand and take bold, decisive action.”

“And if you’re killed? Who will lead us?”

Vog’t shrugged. “I place myself in the hands of the Maker. His will be done. But I can think of worse things to have as your epitaph than ‘Here lies a woman who fought for peace.’”

Gun’ay and Tas’ci exchanged glances.

Finally, Gun’ay spoke. “There is no changing your mind, is there, Zupan?”

“No.” Vog’t stood. “See to all of this. I expect weekly reports and serious progress, Me’tin.”

“You shall have it, Zupan.”

Turning to leave, Vog’t was sure it wasn’t the last time she would have to visit the Ministry of Justice, but the meeting felt like a start. The days ahead will try me in ways nothing has before. But for some reason, she felt as invigorated as she had during her first political race. A younger version of herself stared back at her from far across the stars, nodding in approval. She’d entered politics to change the world. Perhaps she finally could.

Life had returned to normal on the Lion of Judah, as much as it could in a galaxy millions of light-years from Canaan. Food from both Zeivlot and Zavlot had replenished their stock of fresh vegetables and meats, after they’d figured out what from each world the crew could eat. There were a few items that human taste buds found inedible, but for the most part, the raw ingredients worked.

The morning flag ceremony was a staple on every CDF warship, and the Lion was no different. But David had decided to make it more than a simple unfurling of the colors. It seemed like the best place to rally the crew and remind them of what their service and the last few weeks were all about while welcoming newcomers to the ship.

Standing in front of the double-wide and -tall hatch leading to cargo bay two, David pulled his cover on, as the expansive space was considered outside for the purposes of the ceremony.

Almost immediately upon David’s entering, a senior enlisted soldier barked, “General on deck!”

The milling mass of soldiers came to attention, melting into neatly dressed lines.

David strode down a center aisle between them and reckoned at least two thousand people were in the cavernous cargo area. He was glad to see it, as Master Chief Tinetariro had made a point of ensuring as many as possible showed up. Before him sat a small lectern with a portable flagpole behind it. David came to a stop behind the lectern and waited.

“Attention to colors!” Tinetariro barked into a microphone built into the lectern.

A few moments later, the color guard entered the bay. Consisting of four enlisted personnel led by a senior NCO, the group made its way to the front and ran the Terran Coalition flag up the pole before standing at attention behind it.

Tinetariro turned toward David. “Sir?”

“Thank you, Master Chief,” David replied as he stepped forward and faced the flag, bringing his hand to his brow. “I pledge allegiance to the flag of the Terran Coalition and the republic for which it stands. Many nations, under God, with liberty and justice for all.”

Everyone repeated the words as he spoke.

After counting off a few seconds, he faced the lectern. “As you were.”

David took in the sea of faces staring at him. A few Zeivlots and even fewer Zavlots appeared as a small group next to the neat rows of soldiers. This is going to take some getting used to for everyone involved. “I’d like to thank you all for coming down here, as I know the flag ceremony isn’t something we’re used to doing daily. But I felt it was prudent to do something to remember why we’re here. The Lion of Judah is more than just a ship. She and the soldiers who man her are the embodiment of our ideals. Freedom, unity, our shared belief in a higher power, and the right to believe whatever we desire… including in nothing but science. We find ourselves in a new, unexplored galaxy. And while over 4.4 million light-years separate us from home, there is no separation between us and our ideals.

“I am proud of the dedication, determination, and steadfastness shown by each and every member of our battlegroup over the last few months. It remains the highest honor of my life to serve with you.” David licked his lips. “Home. That’s what we all want to know, isn’t it? When do we get home? The truth is I can’t give you a definite answer.”

As he’d expected, that got everyone’s attention more than anything he’d said. Every eye was locked on him.

“What I can tell you is that Dr. Hayworth is working around the clock to figure out a solution to our predicament and that both Zeivlot and Zavlot are contributing scientists to our efforts.” David gestured to the small group of aliens standing to the side. “We’re going to have to do things outside our comfort zone. Explore new solar systems and find alien life that is advanced or more so than us. Above all, discover a way to utilize the artifact that brought us here to send us back. And hopefully, we can use it to set up two-way travel between our galaxy and here.” Hopefully, in a few months, things will have calmed down enough for us to resume hands-on testing of the obelisk. For now, it was off-limits to avoid more civil unrest.

David made eye contact with one of the Zeivlots. “Because it is my sincere belief that we have much to offer, as do our new friends. To that end, selected members of the engineering teams from each warship in our battlegroup along with Marine elements for security will begin the task of building planetary fusion reactors for both planets and a limited orbital infrastructure—namely, a space elevator. Technology will be shared on a bilateral basis, and no direct military-application tech will be transferred to either party… while Terran Coalition personnel will be solely responsible for engineering. In return, we will be supplied with logistical support and science teams.”

The mood of the crowd was difficult to decipher, but David hoped they’d received the news well. It’s our only choice here and was brought about by the overthrowing of the Zavlot government and Zupan Vog’t’s changes in the name of peace and unity.

His voice turned somber. “We also remember and count the cost. Sixteen Marines, pilots, and soldiers gave the ultimate sacrifice so that these two worlds wouldn’t vanish from the galaxy. While that may pale in comparison to the hundreds of thousands of lives lost on both planets, we grieve each one and mourn their loss. It’s important to remember how they lived up to our credo of courage, commitment, and faith. We must do no less and, in so doing, honor their deeds of valor.”

Emotion swept through the room and, to David’s surprise, was present on the faces of most if not all the Zeivlots and Zavlots. He made a mental note of it as something to explore later. “But today is not a day for sadness. It’s a day to remember who we are, why we fight, and that we will make it home to our families, loved ones, and friends. Godspeed to us all on the journey.”

As David stepped back from the lectern, thunderous applause filled the cargo bay. The aliens seemed to be confused by what was going on at first, until they started slapping their hands on their forearms in what he assumed was how they showed happiness or clapping.

The display carried on for thirty seconds before Tinetariro barked, “Company… dismissed!”

Immediately, the assembled Marines and soldiers melted toward the exits at the back.

David made his way over to where the Zeivlots and Zavlots had gathered. A familiar face stuck out to him—Bo’hai, the linguist. He walked over to her and extended his hand. “Greetings once more.”

She smiled and tilted her head. As her purple hair caught the overhead light, it sparkled. “General Cohen. What an amazing turn of events, yes?”

It took a moment to realize she was speaking English without the aid of a translator. The accent was the most unique David could remember hearing—and every planet in the Terran Coalition spoke it a little bit differently, so that was saying something.

“You seem surprised.”

“I, ah, well, your command of our language is impressive.”

“That’s what I get for being a linguistic expert. Thank you for allowing us to join you on this amazing journey. It’s beyond anything I ever hoped for.” Bo’hai gestured to the others around her. “The same goes for all of us.”

“It will be unique for everyone. And I hope you will feel welcomed here and as one of the team.”

A researcher he didn’t recognize spoke up from a row back. “It would feel more welcoming, as you put it, General, if we were not subjected to lie detector examinations and allowed to explore this wonderful ship.” He was using a translator, creating a lag in his words spoken in Zeivlot before they appeared in David’s ear as English.

“Unfortunately, considering the proliferation of extremists on both planets, that wasn’t an option. I hope it will be someday in the future.”

Bo’hai held up a hand. “Well said, General. It appears the military leader is also a diplomat.”

Grateful for the interruption, David forced a smile. “Not quite. But I’ll take the compliment. My sincere hope is that we can all continue to work together, and both worlds in this solar system can unite to find a lasting peace while burying old hatreds. Trust me—it’s hard. I was lucky enough to be born into a republic where humans, for the most part, don’t even notice the differences between us. It took hundreds of years to get there.”

“A journey, indeed.”

“What will your job be here?” David asked, as he was letting Hayworth handle the science department.

“The zupan asked me to lead our linguistics efforts. If you successfully discover new civilizations, we will do our best to translate their languages, we hope without a skirmish breaking out.”

David chuckled. “Yes, with what we would call a first-contact team, that wouldn’t have happened.” He frowned. “I have to take responsibility for what happened. And learn from it.”

“One of the maxims of my people is that whatever happens is because the Maker wishes it. This thing is difficult to accept at times, but I see its value in the events of the past few months.”

“We have similar concepts.”

Bo’hai flashed a smile. “I hope to learn many of them while I am here. Your people fascinate me.”

As they were speaking, Aibek appeared at David’s side, towering over both of them.

The reaction from Bo’hai was immediate. Her eyes grew wide as she stared at the big Saurian. “You… I…”

“Colonel Talgat Aibek, Coalition Defense Force exchange program by way of the Saurian Imperial Navy.” He extended both arms in greeting. “I take it I am the first of my kind you have seen.”

Bo’hai glanced between David and Aibek rapidly. “I didn’t realize there were other aliens on this ship. Forgive me… I did not mean to imply any disrespect.”

They both chuckled.

“For us, it’s nothing that unusual to see a new species. For you, each one is wondrous. What do you think, Talgat? There’re three dozen or so different races that have been contacted in the Sagittarius Arm?”

“That sounds correct, though many of those lack faster-than-light travel methods.”

“May I?” Bo’hai reached out her hand to Aibek’s arm scales but hesitated.

“Certainly.”

She touched the scales before turning her head back toward his face. “I… This is beyond anything I could have imagined.”

“It only gets better from here,” David interjected. “We’ve gotten used to working in space. It’ll take you a while. Are you and the rest of the scientists settled into quarters?”

“Yes. Your master chief was quite helpful in, ah, showing us the way.”

“She’s quite good at that.” David could only imagine how Tinetariro had enforced her brand of discipline on the civilian delegation. He suppressed a grin. “Well, another day is underway, and we’ve got a lot to do. If you’ll excuse me, Ms. Bo’hai, I have a watch to stand on the bridge.”

“Of course, General. I hope we will be of use shortly.”

“I have no doubt. Good day,” David replied before turning to walk away.

Aibek fell in beside him as they strode through the few remaining enlisted personnel and officers still gathered in the cargo bay. “This feels strange.”

“You’re telling me, Talgat.” David chuckled. “We’re like strangers in a strange land. I’d rather be back in the Sagittarius Arm, staring down the Leaguers.”

“Hmm. Yes. That would be simpler.” Aibek stretched his neck as they crossed into the passageway. “Perhaps the Prophet has something else in mind, however.”

“You and the rabbi hanging out now?” David asked with a snicker.

Aibek grinned. “Saurians work in mysterious ways.”

Their laughter echoed through the corridor as the two of them walked toward the bridge. Despite it all, David felt hopeful for the future, and he was determined to hold on to the idea that they were doing good. It made the men and women being killed under his command worth it. And any loss had to be worth the cost.

Epilogue

The White House

Lawrence City—Canaan

2 April, 2464

Throughout the process of passing through security checkpoints, being scanned for unauthorized weapons, and entering the White House, Andrew MacIntosh felt ill at ease. He’d felt a gnawing in the pit of his stomach ever since he received the science report on the Lion of Judah’s ill-fated wormhole. Delivering it to the president of the Terran Coalition made the feeling all the more intense.

MacIntosh was finally ushered into the Oval Office, where he came to attention in front of the Resolute Desk, an artifact from Earth that had made the trip in one of the sleeper ships that had brought humans to the Sagittarius Arm hundreds of years prior. “General Andrew MacIntosh reports as ordered, sir.”

“At ease, Andrew.” Justin Spencer chuckled and stood. “How often have I told you that’s not needed, old friend?”

“Not enough, sir. Can’t breed it out of this soldier.”

Justin shook his head. “Trust me. I know. Please, join me.” He gestured to the twin couches that faced each other in the center of the room, with a small table in between. The office was empty except for them, which was surprising, since a member of the president’s protective detail usually occupied it.

After they’d sat, MacIntosh steepled his fingers. “There’s no easy way to say this, sir, so I’ll cut to the chase. After nearly four months of analysis, the best minds in special projects believe there was a previously unknown fault in the Lawrence drive. Some sort of power injection that they still haven’t identified overcharged the wormhole. We’re looking at a less than one-tenth of one percent chance the Lion of Judah survived, and even if they did, there is no telling where they are. It’s entirely possible that the location for emergence would be outside our galaxy.”

Justin leaned back and shook his head. “I’ve been steeling myself for a report like this, even while I hoped I’d wake up in the middle of the night to someone excitedly telling me the Lion had returned.”

“Me too.” MacIntosh sighed. “I’m sorry, sir. We’ve exhausted all possibilities.”

“I worry this will embolden the League. I don’t believe for a moment that they’re going to slink off into the void and leave us in peace. Intelligence estimates suggest that we will face asymmetrical warfare soon, if it hasn’t started already.”

“They’ll do that regardless of the Lion of Judah’s status, sir.”

“But the Lion is a symbol. It represented a hope that saw us through our darkest hours. David Cohen was worth more in battle than three hundred new starships. Why? Because when he commanded that ship, everyone expected to win.”

MacIntosh pursed his lips. “I miss them too.” While David Cohen had initially done more to annoy him than most officers he’d encountered, in time, MacIntosh had come to see him as the best space-warfare combatant he’d ever seen. Even if he is one of the most unorthodox Orthodox Jews I’ve been around.

“We all do, Andrew.” Justin stood and walked to the Resolute Desk. He picked up a picture in a frame and turned it so MacIntosh could see it. “Jackson Adeoye. Elisabete Mateus. Christopher Lowell. Dvora Feldstein.”

The names triggered memories in MacIntosh from his days serving with Justin on the CSV Zvika Greengold in the early days of the war. “Your squadron-mates from the Red Tails.”

Justin bit his lip. “Dvora’s the only one who survived the war. The rest perished.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “They’re why I do this job. So their deaths weren’t in vain. I’m sick and tired of losing the best among us. It’s just not fair. Cohen and every other soldier on that ship deserved better. So did my friends, all those years ago.”

MacIntosh had felt the sentiment constantly. “I know, sir. We’ve all lost friends… God only knows how many.” The war with the League had cost millions upon millions of lives over the three decades it was fought. “If it’s any consolation, I know that almost all of them felt the oath they took to defend the Terran Coalition was a solemn one. An oath worth keeping.”

“Patriots, all.” Justin choked on his words and seemed to fight down emotion. “All these years later, it still gets to me. I can remember Major Whatley—our CAG—calmly ordering me to carry on even as his fighter’s reactor exploded.”

MacIntosh stood and put a hand on Justin’s shoulder. “You have nothing to be ashamed of, sir.”

“Sometimes I wonder if I should’ve stayed in. Kept fighting the good fight, instead of…” He gestured to the room. “This. Politics.”

“I’m confident that without your leadership, sir, we would’ve lost the war. My Bible says that the Lord raises up leaders.” MacIntosh licked his lips and fought down his own set of emotions. “So does yours.”

“It does.” Justin smiled ruefully. “And now we have to go on. The League’s still out there, Andrew. They’re searching for any weakness, and they will exploit any opening.”

MacIntosh nodded. “I’d expect them to come at us from the shadows soon. They’ll lack the warships to project power into our space for at least a decade. But as we’ve seen before, soft power and manipulation of our social media can be just as bad as a thousand warships entering Canaan system proper.”

“They’ll never stop,” Justin replied. “Until the abomination known as the League of Sol no longer exists in this galaxy. I look forward to the day it's confined to the dustbin of history, where it and communism belong.” He shook his head and set the picture frame on the desk. “I wonder… is this how it felt when the old Soviet bloc lost the first cold war back on Earth? We know how that turned out. They came back with a vengeance only a few decades later.”

“I hope not, sir. But if they want to tangle with the combined fleets of the Terran Coalition, the Saurian Empire, and our Matrinid and neutral friends… well, I think we’ll be ready.”

Justin was quiet for a few moments, staring past him, out into the night sky. “Perhaps. The real work will be formalizing what was a very informal alliance into something meaningful that has staying power.”

“Your job, sir. Mine is to keep our military in top shape.”

“So it is.” Justin seemed to force a smile. “What of the sister ship we were building for the Lion?”

“Well, after the budget cuts, it was sidelined, as you know. My best estimate is a couple of years out. Especially with the push to refit our fleet carriers with antimatter reactors.”

“Put it at the top of the list. The Sword of the Lord might not be the Lion of Judah, but it’s still a symbol of our might.”

MacIntosh grimaced. “Even I think that name is too on the nose.”

“We have plenty of time to pick a new one.” Justin pursed his lips. “Regardless of what the bean counters will say, I want efforts maintained to find the Lion. Or her wreckage. No matter how long it takes or how outlandish the theory.”

Cohen and his people deserve nothing less. “I’ll see to it myself, sir.”

“Thanks, old friend. Something tells me this isn’t the last we’ll see of General Cohen. I just can’t believe that old warhorse and his crew wouldn’t find a way out.”

“It is a romantic notion, sir.” But one not grounded in rationality.

Justin sighed. “I suppose I’d better shut down here and head to the residence. Michelle and the girls deserve to see me for at least a few minutes before bed.”

“Of course.” MacIntosh sprang to his feet and came to attention. “Godspeed, sir.”

“Godspeed, Andrew.”

As MacIntosh strode out of the Oval Office and through the corridors of the White House, he felt weary. Thirty-seven years of service to the Terran Coalition had taken its toll on him, but he was determined to see it through. Besides, I’m eligible to serve until I’m seventy, which is still a few years away. He would find a way to overcome the obstacles in front of them. And put together a memorial service for the Lion of Judah. His heart was heavy, but there was only one thing to do: put one foot in front of the other and soldier on.

The Lost Warship: Book 2 – Mercy:

When General Cohen and the Lion of Judah encounter a new species that hold justice above all else, the Lion is drawn into conflict to save several of her senior officers. David must use every weapon at his disposal to rescue them, before time runs out.

Now available on Amazon!

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THE END

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Also Available from Daniel Gibbs

Battlegroup Z

Book 1 - Weapons Free

Book 2 - Hostile Spike

Book 3 - Sol Strike

Book 4 - Bandits Engaged

Book 5 - Iron Hand

Book 6 - Final Flight

Echoes of War

Book 1 - Fight the Good Fight

Book 2 - Strong and Courageous

Book 3 - So Fight I

Book 4 - Gates of Hell

Book 5 - Keep the Faith

Book 6 - Run the Gauntlet

Book 7 - Finish the Fight

The Lost Warship

Book 1 - Adrift

Book 2 - Mercy

Book 3 - Valor

Book 4 - Justice (Coming in 2023)

Book 5 - Resolve (Coming in 2023)

Book 6 - Faith (Coming in 2023)

Breach of Faith

(With Gary T. Stevens)

Book 1 - Breach of Peace

Book 2 - Breach of Faith

Book 3 - Breach of Duty

Book 4 - Breach of Trust

Book 5 - Spacer’s Luck

Book 6 - Fortune’s Favor

Book 7 - The Iron Dice

Deception Fleet

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Book 1 - Victory’s Wake

Book 2 - Cold Conflict

Book 3 - Hazards Near

Book 4 - Liberty’s Price

Book 5 - Ecliptic Flight

Book 6 - Collision Vector

Courage, Commitment, Faith: Tales from the Coalition Defense Force

(Anthology Series)

Volume One

Acknowledgments

It is difficult to believe that Adrift marks my 30th novel. What a fitting way to celebrate that milestone, than with a return to the CSV Lion of Judah, and the story’s of her crew.

I hope everyone enjoys the journey as much as I have!

Susie – thanks for the continued rigor in the editing process. I’ve learned more about the English language in the last two years than I had in my entire life to date.

Dad – you’ll like this one – and you know why.

To the others who have helped me along the way, who are too numerous to name – thank you; I am grateful for every scrap of advice, encouraging word, and hand up that’s been offered. You know who you are.

To the servicemen and women of the US military, especially the US Navy and Marine Corps, that I have had the honor of working with for the past 15 years, thank you for your service. Because of you, I can write these novels and say anything I want. All too often, we collectively take this for granted.

Finally, it is fitting (and always will be) to thank God for the ability to write these novels, and bring the universe of the Terran Diaspora to life.

The rest of The Lost Warship will be releasing this year – and rest assured, I’m already outlining the next couple of series set in this universe.

And, but certainly not least - a special thanks to all of my Kickstarter Backers for The Lost Warship, and especially:

Brian Clairmont

Avi Beidani

Lonnie Bristol

Alexander Roth

Christopher Hayes

Lewis Brande

Oridon

Thank you all - and we’ll do it again soon!

Godspeed,

Daniel Gibbs