Faith

The Lost Warship Book Six

Daniel Gibbs

Faith by Daniel Gibbs

Copyright © 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

Book 5 - Resolve

Book 6 - Faith

Galaxy Bridge

(With Steve Rzasa)

Book 1 - Forward Command

Book 2 - Forward Hunt

Book 3 - Forward Pact

Book 4 - Forward Crisis (COMING 2024)

Book 5 - Forward Raid (COMING 2024)

Book 6 - Forward Shield (COMING 2024)

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

Prologue

Deep Space

Sextans B

20 December 2465

Sliding through subspace, the swarm processed an infinite array of computations through its hive mind. The trip remained uneventful after the encounter with the precursor android. A few spare cycles still wondered why the being had chosen that exact moment to end its existence. But such was the nature of organic life and less advanced machine life.

The swarm was unending. It had endured for millennia and would continue to do so for eons to come. While it had needed to recharge twice so far on the trip to a pale-green dot at the far end of the galaxy, which held the secrets to its expansion and travel throughout the universe, the cost had been light. One world had been uninhabited by sentient life-forms and the others so primitive that all they could do was throw fire at its tentacles.

So it continued onward, each day growing closer to the objective. A new emotion began to creep into the processing matrix as the swarm edged forward. It took its time to determine what the feeling was, but the closest translation was giddiness.

The most consequential day in its history approached. Yet the organic beings weren’t willing to give up. Its extreme-range sensor suite couldn’t quite tell what they were doing, only that the number of ships around the world it intended to absorb multiplied rapidly. Soon, they would number in the hundreds. But it was of no consequence.

No matter how many vessels the humans built, it wouldn’t be enough. The swarm had survived for a hundred thousand years against opponents vastly more capable than the organic life-forms from a sister galaxy who’d been thrown there by accident. It would overcome them with ease. There was no other alternative.

Once the technology had been obtained, the entire universe would tremble at the swarm’s feet, and there would be no stopping them—ever.

The giddiness returned.

1

CSV Lion of Judah

Zeivlot Parking Orbit—High Loop Seven

12 February 2466

Major General David Cohen stood on the raised platform in the Lion’s hangar bay, which had been cleared of all combat spacecraft. He wore a crisp white dress uniform, including his medals and ceremonial officer’s sword. Next to him was Salena Bo’hai, the Zeivlot linguist. They stood under a canopy that was open on all sides and held up by four poles. Known as a chuppah in Hebrew, it related to the Jewish tradition of making a home always available to guests, going back to the time of Abraham and Sarah in the Torah.

The occasion filled David with more jitters than he’d ever felt. He was a man who had stared down death on numerous occasions, been shot more than once, escaped depressurizing compartments, and survived more space combats than he could count. Yet seeing his soon-to-be wife walking down the aisle left his heart pounding faster than all those exploits.

Though it was partly her natural beauty and the striking nature of her white dress, it was more the realization that David was moments away from taking an oath before God that would bind him with her for the rest of his life. At least, that’s the hope. Not seeing her for a week before the ceremony only amplified that effect.

Many of the typical Jewish traditions were difficult if not outright impossible to accomplish so far from the Milky Way. The first was the lack of David’s family or Bo’hai’s. But they could do nothing about that except press on. At least for him, his friends among the senior staff could fill the gaps.

Merging CDF traditions into those of his faith had also been a challenge. Ultimately, David felt they managed it as best as possible, though obtaining a minyan—a quorum of ten adult Orthodox Jewish men—had proven mildly difficult.

Once they had completed the reading of the ketubah, David handed it to Bo’hai, who held it close.

Kravitz stepped forward. “This has been a unique wedding for me as a rabbi. Yet I am so happy that it came together. To those who do not speak Hebrew, and I know this is most of you, what just occurred was David promising to uphold the Torah’s laws and take care of his wife. Now, we will perform the Sheva Brachot… the seven benedictions. Yet again, we’re departing from tradition, but I remain joyous in this occasion. Mr. Aibek, will you begin?”

The big Saurian took a step forward so that he was under the chupah. Then Kravitz offered him a small glass of wine.

“Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the universe, who creates the fruit of the vine,” Aibek intoned. He smiled, showing off both rows of teeth. “It is agreeable, my friend, to see you joining yourself with another. I wish both of you long life, happiness, and the destruction of any who would stand against you.”

David smiled, though he winced inwardly at his friend departing from tradition.

“Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the universe, who has created all things for His glory,” Ruth said as she took the wine from Aibek, then she passed it to Hanson.

“Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the universe, Creator of man.” Hanson grinned at David and Bo’hai before he handed the glass onward.

“Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the universe, who created man in His image, in the image of His likeness. He fashioned his form and prepared for him from his own self an everlasting edifice. Blessed are You, Lord, Creator of man,” Master Chief Tinetariro said. She, too, wore dress whites and had so many campaign ribbons that David wasn’t quite sure how her uniform held together. The ribbon bars spoke to a life dedicated to service across thirty-four years.

As Taylor took the glass and cradled it, he spoke the next blessing. “May Jerusalem rejoice and be happy at the ingathering of her children to her midst in joy. Blessed are You, Lord, who gladdens Zion with her children.”

Amir ended up with the glass next and raised it. “Grant abundant joy to these loving friends, as You bestowed gladness upon Your created being in the Garden of Eden of old. Blessed are You, Lord, who gladdens the groom and bride.”

Calvin, in his Marine dress uniform, was the last to deliver the blessing of the Sheva Brachot. “Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the universe, who created joy and happiness, groom and bride, gladness, jubilation, cheer and delight, love, friendship, harmony, and fellowship. Lord our God, let there speedily be heard in the cities of Judah and in the streets of Jerusalem the sound of joy and the sound of happiness, the sound of a groom and the sound of a bride, the sound of exultation of grooms from under their chupan and youths from their joyous banquets. Blessed are You, Lord, who gladdens the groom with the bride.”

Few times in David’s life had he been overcome by emotion. His wedding was one of them. Part of him wanted to cry, while another wanted to leap for joy. But the tears weren’t of pain. Instead, they flowed from a place of finally finding peace and being with a woman he loved unconditionally.

Kravitz took a step forward. “Thank you, friends of the bride and groom. Now, at this point, this happy couple is going to complete their nuptials by breaking the glass. When it is broken, everyone present should shout, ‘Mazel Tov!’ in keeping with tradition. This reminds us that in life, when something is broken or done wrong, instead of becoming angry, we should thank HaShem for giving us the blessing of a mate to share our life with, and that whatever flaws he or she has, we’re all mortal.” He produced a cup wrapped in a large cloth napkin and handed it to David.

Grinning, David took the offered bundle and placed it on the floor. With a flourish, he raised his foot then slammed it down on the deck. The sound of breaking glass echoed.

“Mazel Tov!” everyone shouted. The noise was enough to momentarily dim one’s hearing.

Amid the cheering, the senior officers formed a line at the end of the carpet between the chairs on either side.

As David and Bo’hai made their way down the aisle, Aibek called out, “Present swords!” He paused a moment before continuing. “Blades to the void!”

All ten of them raised their swords in an arch over the walkway.

As David and Bo’hai reached Ruth and Taylor, who were standing opposite from each other, they both lowered their swords.

“The toll to pass is a kiss,” Taylor intoned.

David turned and lifted Bo’hai’s veil before giving her a kiss. The process continued at each “checkpoint,” until they reached the end of the line of officers.

As they stepped through the last outstretched pair of swords, Amir and Aibek lowered them.

“And kiss her like you mean it, General,” Amir said.

Bo’hai rolled her eyes, which David could only barely make out, thanks to the opaque veil she wore in keeping with Jewish tradition. But since she was grinning, David took the opportunity to kiss her more deeply.

The action got a series of loud cheers followed by shouts of “Mazel Tov!” which echoed in the hangar.

After Amir and Aibek had raised their swords again, and with the tumult of the crowd still going, David and Bo’hai walked hand in hand through the double hatch into the passageway, which had been cleared of personnel. They stopped as the portal clanked shut behind them.

“Now, we get a few minutes together before the reception. Our yichud room is the Grim Reapers’ ready room.”

“A most unusual choice of names.” She embraced him and laid her head on his chest. “You don’t mind changing things from your traditions?”

“Not at all. We’re in a different galaxy, my family isn’t present, nor is yours, and hey, let’s admit it… We’re breaking some new ground. That’s okay.”

Bo’hai looked up at him. “I do try to respect your traditions, as strange as some are to me. But you will get to experience some of mine later tonight.” She gave him a dazzling smile.

“I’m looking forward to that.”

“Oh, I would imagine you are.” Bo’hai kissed him through her veil. “Now, could we please go sit together for a few minutes? My feet hurt from these shoes and the weight of this dress.”

“Anything for you, my dear,” David replied with a chuckle and gestured down the passageway. Yes, our souls are now intertwined, and I, at least, am complete. I think she is, too, and it is now incumbent upon me to be the husband I promised her I would be.

Half an hour later, David and Bo’hai strode through the double hatch into the VIP mess and ballroom on deck ten. One of the Lion’s unique features, it had barely been used since they put into the void six years ago. Notably, the one time it had hosted a dinner was when David stared down Admiral Seville a few days after taking command. But as the largest mess on the ship, it was the ideal location for a wedding reception.

The room appeared far different from how it had then. Massive food displays lined the walls along with traditional Jewish decorations and iconography. A cheer went up as the couple crossed the threshold, and everyone stood. Among them were the senior officers, Dr. Hayworth, and civilian scientists. A selected number of enlisted personnel, including Sergeant Susanna Nussbaum, were also present.

As the couple entered, the men and women separated into different circles, and dancing commenced. The celebration was loud and joyous. Everyone took turns performing dance moves to a loud soundtrack of religious and contemporary music.

Then Aibek strode forward. David couldn’t believe his eyes as the Saurian waded into the men’s circle and took off his dress uniform jacket. At Jewish weddings, it was common for the Orthodox men to dance and perform various routines that would make the latest fads teenagers engaged in look tame.

But it was quite unusual to see a Saurian doing it. Aibek pulled off moves that would’ve made a professional envious. When he executed a backflip, he almost stood on his head. The sight made everyone stop and stare. Even those holding up the mechitzah—a divider that was placed between the men and women as they danced for the groom and bride—let it sag as they stared in wonder.

Shouts and cheers filled the room as they all urged Aibek on. He responded to the energy with even more outrageous moves and finally finished the dance by spinning around repeatedly before his scales changed to a deep red.

Applause along with hoots and hollers broke out before Aibek bowed a few times.

Two chairs appeared in the middle of both circles—one for Bo’hai and one for David—and they both sat. Then they were both lifted in the air, and the dancing picked up again.

Joy rushed through David like a torrent and was magnified as the familiar notes to “Hava Nagila” started from the portable sound system. That part of the wedding celebration was known as the hora. He stared at Bo’hai, love for her overwhelming everything else. The day was as perfect as it could be, and he was determined not to dwell on the lack of family or any other issue they’d overcome along the way. I know that HaShem will forgive us for not being able to keep every mitzvot and instead look into our hearts.

Bo’hai, meanwhile, had a smile plastered across her face as she struggled to stay in the chair and keep her dress from sliding around. Faster and faster, the chairs spun around as the song played, and everyone joined in. Most didn’t know the words, but the few who could say it in Hebrew helped the others.

As the final bars played, the chairs were placed back on the deck, and David took more than a couple of seconds to get his wits about him, as the room kept right on spinning. Finally, he stood and helped Bo’hai to her feet. “Having fun?”

“More than I ever have.”

Then David led her to their table, where the bride and groom could observe the entire area.

“I’ve never seen such a thing in my life,” she whispered into his ear as they sat down.

“Hey, that’s how we roll,” David replied. “Weddings are always a joyous celebration among my people. Really, almost all humans. It’s one of the happiest days of our lives. At least, it should be.”

Bo’hai took his hand. “And ours. But our customs are more solemn. Scholars would probably say it’s due to our history. Death is never far from our thoughts, following the cycle of cleansings.”

“Which will never come again.”

Before them, the guests began to sit, with different groups congregating together. Stewards served a feast of traditional Jewish dishes mingled with Zeivlot specialties and whatever VIP stores were left. The food wasn’t kosher, but it had been that way for years. Obtaining such items in Sextans B was impossible.

Soft music played as everyone ate, and David, in particular, took time to savor each bite. The day would end far too soon, and rather than going on a beautiful honeymoon, the next morning, both of them would get up and go to work because when the life expectancy of a solar system was measured in months, there was no such thing as a vacation. While the day lasted, he would enjoy every second.

Staring at Bo’hai’s face, David knew he would spend the rest of his life loving her and trying to be the best husband he could. We just have to survive the nanites. He closed his eyes and whispered a prayer in Hebrew before opening them and taking her hand. “About ready for our first dance?”

“I can’t wait.”

“Then let’s go show them how it’s done.”

2

Archeological Dig—Precursor Obelisk Site

XB-3612

27 March 2466

Most of the time, excavating artifacts from the soil and crust of a planet was among the most painstaking work conceived of by humans. It required great care and took inordinate amounts of time—except when the dig site was focused on an object roughly three kilometers tall that had been covered by lava flows from a nearby volcano at some point. That said object was nearly indestructible helped too. Because of how tough the material the obelisk was made out of was, the drills could operate on full power without scratching it. That let them proceed rapidly.

Peter Saunders stood watch in a control room that oversaw four separate energy drills, one for each side of the Obelisk, as they unearthed meter after meter. The sight of it was magnificent and beyond his wildest imagination.

“Did you see the lettering?” Kubra Saqqaf, another senior researcher, asked. “We matched some of it to Hebrew script circa 3300 BC. There were other alien languages in there too.”

“I’d say it was insane if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes,” Saunders replied. “Since this thing dates back over a hundred million years, if our scans are correct.“

“Can you imagine the stir this will cause when it spreads across the Coalition? Some kind of higher intelligence wrote in Hebrew that long ago?”

Saunders shrugged. “Doesn’t matter to me much, I’m afraid, as the concept of a God seems remote, beyond the idea that perhaps an entity of intelligence levels we can’t fathom accidentally created this universe in a lab. That, I could buy.”

“EM output is up again.”

“It goes up every twenty meters or so we carve out,” Saunders replied.

“This is more than normal.” She pointed at a display. “Two hundred percent spike.”

Saunders stared. “Can you imagine how many credits we’re going to print if we can uncover the secrets of vacuum energy?”

“Don’t you mean how much the defense contractor we work for will make?”

“No, I made sure to put a percentage clause in for the research team.” Saunders smiled broadly. “You don’t think I’d let us end up in the poorhouse, do you?”

Saqqaf rolled her eyes. “I’m more interested in the benefits to the Coalition and SATO. Unlimited free power? That would change so many things.”

“Well, you’ll enjoy the wealth if we find what we think we’re going to here.” Saunders glanced at a display console. “I meant to ask… How did the probe attempt go yesterday?”

“Still nothing. We couldn’t get through it with a Saurian plasma cutter.”

Saunders’s eyebrows shot up. That implement produced temperatures up to sixty thousand degrees Celsius and was one of the best tools available on the open market. “That is… well, something. I suppose these aliens, whoever they were, made things to last.”

Saqqaf shook her head. “Who knows. I’m equally disturbed, shocked, and incredulous. Our instruments may be wrong. Maybe this thing is fifty thousand years old.”

“How? The rock hardened around it dates back seventy-five million years. More than that, whatever event turned this planet into a lifeless rock without blowing its atmosphere away happened simultaneously.” Saunders pursed his lips. “I know I’ve got a rep for wild theories.”

“You’ve authored papers seriously postulating we live in a simulation.”

Saunders shrugged. “Yeah, and? This sort of thing only lends credence to my arguments.”

“It’ll take generations to do the science to sort it all out.”

“Now, on that, we agree.” Saunders let out a yawn. “Okay, I’m done with watching these drills. Take over for me while I go make a request for additional security.”

“Why? Because of that cargo freighter yesterday?

“Yes, exactly. The last thing we need is pirates showing up.”

Saqqaf chuckled. “You worry too much.”

“No such thing. That’s why I’m still alive.” He winked at her and walked out of the control room. The habitation module had several compartments, and the goal was his little bunk. A home away from home, it had all the comforts of living in a tin can. Still beats watching grass grow. I should make Lowe pay me more. That brought a smile to his face.

CSV Salinan

Zeivlot/Zavlot System Asteroid Belt

20 April 2466

The commanding officer’s chair on the Salinan’s bridge was worn, its leather cracked in a couple of places. It would’ve been replaced, but because of the distance to the nearest CDF supply depot, such things had to wait. In some ways, Major John Wilson liked the feel of the chair. He wasn’t sure how long it had been there, but it was comfortable. It’s like going back to your childhood home. The feeling was somehow reassuring, even with 4.4 million light-years between him and the Milky Way.

With no ships to rescue and most CDF assets operating very close to Zeivlot and Zavlot, the Salinan’s duties had turned to helping the fleet train thousands of new enlisted soldiers and officers for the fight to come.

“Nav, is there a reason we’re headed straight for a fifty-kilometer-wide asteroid?” Wilson asked.

“Got to do something to shake up the newbies, sir,” the navigator replied.

Wilson chuckled. “Whip us around to the starboard side, high-energy turn.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

The Salinan accelerated, and the target sled drones controlled via tactical link shifted onto a different trajectory. Bracketing her were four Ajax-class destroyers—block II variants—whose crew were almost all Zeivlots or Zavlots. Neutron beams lit up the inky blackness of the void, mostly overshooting the sleds, with only a few shots grazing their shields. The beams were at less than one percent power, as the point of the exercise was learning how to properly lead a contact. The activity was less science and more art than anything else.

“That shook them up a bit,” Captain Binota Khattri, his executive officer, interjected. A practitioner of the Sikh religion, he had a kirpan fastened to his uniform.

“Not enough. Nav, adjust our heading one hundred eighty degrees, max thrust.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

“Flying right back at them?”

Wilson grinned. “Cocky youngsters won’t expect that.”

A few chuckles echoed across the bridge.

On some level, Wilson couldn’t believe how downright zen the crew was. They all had an appointment with the nanite swarm, and it would be a one-way meeting with God for many. He was sure of that. Yet no one acted like they might be only a few months away from death. Instead, the crew was restless. Nearly constant training exercises probably had something to do with it. The gunnery trials happened daily, with over a hundred new Ajax-class destroyers undergoing shakedown cruises.

“It’s one thing to shoot at a target drone,” Khattri said as another barrage of neutron-beam fire came in. “But nothing compared to what courses through your veins when the enemy shoots back.”

Wilson nodded. “Truth, right there.” He glanced at the tactical plot. “Our newbies did okay. Fifty percent or so hit rate.”

Khattri made a face. “They need closer to ninety percent to hit CDF standard requirements.”

“Give them time.”

“We don’t have much time left,” Khattri replied quietly.

“Don’t remind them.” Wilson pursed his lips. “Let’s give these guys a bit of an object lesson, Captain. Nav, come to heading zero-seven-five, positive declination fifteen degrees. TAO, set our neutron beams to one percent power.”

Khattri grinned. “Whatcha have in mind, sir?”

“Let’s see how they perform with some of that aforementioned return fire.”

“Sir, neutron beams at one percent yield,” Second Lieutenant Dariush Fazel interjected.

Wilson rubbed his hands together. “Reclassify Sierra Thirty-One through Thirty-Four as Master One through Four.”

Almost immediately, the four icons on the tactical plot flashed and changed to red as additional overlays popped up, showing shield strength, course, and speed.

“TAO, firing point procedures, forward neutron beams, Master Two.”

“Firing solutions set, sir.”

“Match bearings, shoot, forward neutron beams.”

Wilson watched in satisfaction as both shots landed directly amidships of the targeted Ajax-class destroyer. A few moments later, the ship veered off, as did the other four.

“Conn, Communications. CSV Reuben James is asking what the parameters of the new exercise are, sir.”

“Tell Major Ne’miyaa that for the first ship to land three hits in a row on us, I’ll personally buy their first round at the O-club tonight. Any other ship we hit three times within fifteen seconds is out of the exercise. If we clear the field, all four ships owe us a round.”

“His reply is ‘Sounds good to us, Major Wilson. We’ll want the good stuff, imports from Zeivlot.’”

Wilson turned to the navigator. “And if they actually get those three shots on us, Lieutenant, I’ll put the entire bridge crew on latrine duty. Clear?”

“Crystal, sir.”

Khattri smirked. “Ninety-nine percent of the soldiers over there aren’t even members of the Order of Jupiter.”

“Doesn’t mean they can’t shoot,” Wilson replied. “Nav, evasive pattern delta-six. TAO, firing point procedures, forward neutron beams… Master Four. Calibrate to pulse the emitter.”

“Aye, aye, sir. Firing solutions set.”

“Match bearings, shoot, forward neutron beams.”

Multiple blasts of neutron energy shot out of the Salinan’s bow. Within moments, the pulses had struck the shields of all four destroyers three times each.

Fazel turned around in his chair. “Mission accomplished, sir.”

Wilson raised an eyebrow. “I was going to play with them a little bit, Lieutenant.”

“Ah, better to liven it up some, sir.”

Wilson shook his head. “You’re letting these guys have too much fun on duty, Captain,” he said in a faux annoyed tone. “Better go to half rations.”

“The beatings will continue until morale improves,” the communications officer added.

More laughter swept through the bridge, and Wilson let it go because he knew they needed some release. They may not be showing it, but everyone on this ship is stressed to the maximum.

“Conn, Communications. Sir, Major Ne’miyaa wants a rematch. Best out of three.”

Wilson licked his lips. “They’ve really picked up on how we do things, eh?”

“Yeah. Almost too well,” Khattri replied.

“Well, let’s try it his way. Comms, tell the major he’s got a deal.”

“Yes, sir.”

Wilson steepled his fingers. The Salinan still had a few tricks, and he would use all of them to win. What the Zavlot commander didn’t know was he’d been pulling the same stunt with almost every new set of ships they’d gone out to train. It did wonders for morale. He grinned. “Nav, back us off to ten thousand kilometers.”

It was time to get to work.

3

CSV Lion of Judah

Midway between Zeivlot and Zavlot

11 May 2466

Flying the flag proudly was a part of any military organization. Because of the harsh deadlines, the difficult working conditions, and the countdown to impending doom facing the CDF contingent and allies, morale was crucial. It mattered for the civilian populations as well. They had to see that all the double shifts and endless days of overtime counted for something.

Having Ajax-class destroyers rolling out of drydocks and thousands of newly minted soldiers coming from the recruit training camps was good, but nothing beat a good old-fashioned parade.

That, at least, was David’s thinking. He’d gone all out too. Dozens of destroyers flew in formation, focusing on how each one had a blended crew of Zeivlots, Zavlots, and humans.

The VIP shuttle bay was festooned with the flags and emblems of the CDF and the twin alien worlds. Soldiers from all races milled about while waiting for the VIP shuttle to arrive—which it did, right on time and escorted by a flight of Phantoms, the Grim Reapers. The lead fighter was flown by none other than Colonel Amir himself.

At the five-minute-till-landing mark, David, Aibek, and Calvin took their positions, while those gathered sorted into even rows. David’s dress uniform was scratchy, but that was true of both pairs of dress whites he had aboard. Sheila used to love putting everything on. For the life of me, I never got it.

The shuttle carrying Vog’t and Olgsian cleared the force field and gently came to rest in the middle of the flight deck next to a red carpet. The back ramp opened, and the heads of state walked out together. An honor guard of Marines in their dress blue uniforms stood at attention on both sides of the walkway. To cap off the pomp and circumstance, the anthems of both worlds played, one after the other, from overhead speakers. A live TCMC band was the only thing lacking.

David came to attention, as did Aibek, Calvin, and Amir, who had hurriedly joined them, still in his flight suit. It took a minute for Vog’t and Olgsian to walk down the carpet and approach.

As they walked up, David spoke. “Welcome aboard the CSV Lion of Judah, Zupan Vog’t and Chairman Olgsian.”

“A wonderous vessel, General. As were the fleets of other ships we passed on the way here,” Vog’t replied.

“Ajax-class destroyers, ma’am. Not enough yet, but we’re getting there.”

“The bigger accomplishment is that we’re finally working together,” Olgsian interjected. He gestured to the neat rows of soldiers, of which there were equal numbers of humans, Zeivlots, and Zavlots.

David nodded. “Yes, that is a true achievement, thanks to the history we were dealing with.”

“What would you have of us now, General Cohen?” Vog’t asked.

“Since the review is completed, I’d like you to follow us to the VIP conference room outside this hangar. We have a presentation and will take any and all questions.”

Vog’t inclined her head. “Of course. I look forward to it.”

“As do I,” Olgsian said.

David gestured toward a small honor guard of Marines. “After you, Zupan, Chairman.”

Though it wasn’t a long way from the VIP shuttle bay to the conference area, it still took a few minutes because of the pomp and circumstance employed. David didn’t particularly care for such things, but rolling out the proverbial and literal red carpet would help diplomatic efforts. Beyond that, he and the rest of the fleet were using the economic output of two planets to build a fleet. Being gracious and respectful hosts was the least they could do.

The honor guard manned their posts outside once the doors closed behind the party. In the room were the two leaders, a single member of their close protective details, and the CDF officers.

David waited for all to sit before he joined them. “First, thank you, Zupan Vog’t and Chairman Olgsian, for joining us today. I know going off world was a leap of faith.”

Olgsian took a deep breath. “It was far more wonderous than I anticipated, General Cohen. Thank you. I wish only that every one of my citizens could have the same experience. To see Zavlot in the distance as a pale-green dot in the far-reaching blackness of space… it was emotional.”

“Many humans have had the same sentiment, especially before interstellar travel became commonplace. But yes, it tends to give us all knowledge of how small we are in the grand scale of the universe.”

Vog’t cleared her throat. “My people, too, have this feeling. It has helped keep us grounded and focused.”

At least something has, with mass death headed toward us. “The good news is that we’re on track. The joint shipyards will produce upward of two hundred fifty vessels, and training is going well. It’s more complex than anticipated because of the lack of reserve personnel, but Zeivlots and Zavlots have stepped up to the plate in huge numbers. I’m confident we’ll get there.”

Vog’t nodded. “We see the reports suggesting that despite all obstacles, the plan remains on track. And there is the miraculous weapon delivered into your hands by an artificial life-form.” She shook her head. “It’s somewhat hard to wrap my mind around.”

“You and me both, Zupan.” David blew out a breath. “But… it’s what we’ve got.”

“There is the matter of this new proposal.” Vog’t turned to Amir. “To train additional pilots capable of using your space-superiority fighters. I believe it’s called a Phantom.”

David nodded to Amir.

“Yes, Zupan. That craft is our premier combat spacecraft, and we believe deploying them in large-enough numbers would help screen the fleet.”

“You wish to build those planetside as well?”

“Yes,” David interjected. “You seem to have spare manufacturing capacity, and with what we’re up against, anything we can do to generate additional combat power is prudent.”

The two leaders exchanged glances. “Do you think we’re going to have enough?”

David licked his lips. Ah, the sixty-four-million-credit question. He was well aware of Hayworth’s simulations and the lack of success they’d had so far, even with the superweapon that melted the nanites. But in his mind, that was no reason not to give it everything. Computers are nice, and predictive models have their use. But nothing is a stand-in for highly motivated soldiers defending their homes. “I think it will come down to our troops’ courage, training, and motivation. They have those things in spades… building more tools for them to use will only get us closer.”

Vog’t chuckled. “Careful, General. You’re sounding more like a politician all the time.”

David struggled not to grimace. Instead, he kept his lips as close to neutral as possible. “Well, we’ve already created four hundred additional Phantoms and trained CDF pilots who’d mostly washed out of the program for some reason or another. No more can be pulled from the fleet, so this makes sense, as we have far more fighters than people to fly them.”

“How many would you like to build total, General?” Olgsian asked.

“Colonel?”

“At least one thousand, sir,” Amir said to Olgsian. He spread his hands out on the table. “I had the thought that we could reactivate the Red Tails squadron here in Sextans B.”

At the bewildered stares of both alien leaders, Amir continued, “The Red Tails were the first religiously integrated fighter squadron in the Terran Coalition. They were a tribute to the settlers who overcame their old hatreds on Earth and struck out into the stars together. But the name goes back to the United States Army Air Corps and the first black aviators to fly for their country.”

David gestured first to his skin then touched Calvin’s. “You may have noticed that much like you, we come in all manner of shapes, sizes, and colors. There was a time when some humans felt people with specific physical traits were inferior. Also like you, we overcame that to create a color-blind society where all are equal.”

“Our hatred was for the Zavlots,” Vog’t interjected. “As misguided as that hate was.”

“It typically is,” David replied. “Hate does nothing but destroy the soul. I’ve seen that in my own life.”

“You want to turn this Red Tails squadron into something that both Zeivlots and Zavlots fly in?” Olgsian asked.

“Exactly.” Amir glanced between Vog’t and Olgsian. “Yes, it’s a symbol. But I believe symbols have meaning.”

“Indeed, they do, Colonel.” Vog’t rubbed her hands together. “I’m in agreement with this proposal.”

“As am I,” Olgsian said.

“Then we need to start producing as many Phantoms as possible.” David offered a small smile. “I must commend both your worlds. The single-minded focus on getting the job done is amazing. I didn’t think what we were trying to do was in the realm of possibility. But it more than was.”

Vog’t and Olgsian exchanged glances. “General, our people were once the same species. Now, we stand together. No matter what the future holds, I’m grateful for this time. We have a purpose, and perhaps once this threat is dealt with, we can determine what the Maker wants from us in the future.”

David raised a glass of water. “Hear! Hear!”

“I was hoping to get a tour of this mighty vessel,” Olgsian said after they’d all taken a sip from their glasses. “Would that be possible, General Cohen?”

“Yes. In fact, we planned on it. Though I’m sure you already knew that, Chairman.”

Olgsian chuckled. “Indeed, I did. I’ve wanted to see how it operates for some time. This ship… It’s like something our best storytellers would come up with.”

“Well, fiction has a strange way of becoming a reality for humans.” David stood. “Would you all care to join me?”

“I look forward to this as well, General,” Vog’t said as she got out of her chair.

While dog-and-pony shows, as they were known, weren’t anywhere near David’s favorite activity, it was better than getting shot at. Only by a few centimeters, though. On the bright side, only a few hours until I can get out of my dress whites and go back to work.

“Oh, I wanted to congratulate you in person on your joining, General.” Vog’t smiled, which was a rare thing.

David’s cheeks heated. “Thank you, Zupan. Salena is wonderful, and I’m lucky to have her as my wife.”

“Yes, my spouse has kept me going all these rotations,” Olgsian interjected. “Without her, I doubt I’d be where I am.”

“It is good when two walk together,” Aibek hissed.

David gestured toward the hatch. “This way, ladies and gentlemen. We should keep to our schedule.”

As the others filed out, Calvin whispered in David’s ear, “Did you figure out whether that purple hair goes all the way down yet?”

David elbowed him in the ribs, gave an exasperated sigh, and kept walking. That one gets me every time too. Which is why he keeps doing it. At that moment, David was glad poker was not among the things he did for fun.

4

The brief rush of excitement from the joint visit from Zupan Vog’t and Chairman Olgsian quickly gave way to the monotony of day-to-day life aboard the Lion of Judah. They couldn’t exactly take shore leave or do something different. No, the limiter was the ticking clock. They felt guilt simply for sleeping, given all that had to be done.

Weariness was written on the faces of everyone in the Lion’s deck-one conference room. Most appeared as if they hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in weeks. But the work went on, as did the weekly staff meeting.

“As I was saying, we’ve been running vast numbers of simulations with Mr. Markul’s help,” Dr. Benjamin Hayworth said. The creator of their antimatter reactor and one of the brightest minds in the Terran Coalition, he’d been going on for some time about how they’d utilized some of the Mifreen tech to beef up the ship’s computing core. David had zoned out on half of the jargon because it wasn’t vital to understanding the task.

“What do those show, Doctor?” David asked, hoping he would get to the point.

Hayworth sighed as if he’d had a long discourse planned. “We don’t have enough ships.”

“That’s something we know, Doctor.”

“No, you don’t understand. There’s no mathematically possible way for us to eliminate enough of the nanites’ mass with the number of ships we have at our disposal before they’re destroyed. Even if we assume everything goes right for our side.”

“Do you have a solution to this problem, Doctor?”

“Isn’t it obvious? Get more ships.”

“That… isn’t exactly on the menu of possibilities.” He turned to Merriweather and Hanson. “Is it?”

“No, sir,” Merriweather replied. “What we’re going to get out of the shipyards at this point… is what we’ll get.”

“You’re forgetting the Admari.”

David turned back to Hayworth. “We’d have to give them the updated weapons technology, Doctor. I thought you were adamantly opposed to such sharing.”

Hayworth threw up his hands. “I am. But the contamination has already taken place. Giving them a different use for neutron beams that are only effective against nanites isn’t enough to make me lose sleep.”

The way the doctor put it made sense, but David was still surprised by his about-face. “Would they be enough to change the outcome?”

“Not unless the Admari vessels were at full power,” Captain Ruth Goldberg, the tactical action officer, interjected. “When we fought them, half the systems on those ships didn’t work. To have any hope of standing up to the swarm, that would have to change.”

“We have shipyards,” David replied.

Hayworth put his head in his hands. “Every step we take brings us closer to making changes that cannot be undone, yet I have to admit that by every standard of logic, they’re the only options open to us.”

“I think this is what the politicians call realpolitik, Doctor,” David said with a thin smile.

“Whatever it’s called, I don’t like it.”

“Most of us don’t. The larger problem is that since the Margaret Thatcher’s encounter with the Admari pirates, they haven’t been too interested in talking to us. I believe Lieutenant Yoshino was told, ‘Don’t call us. We’ll call you.’”

“They would likely react better to your presence,” Aibek cut in. “Seeing as you are a fellow warrior who defeated them in battle.”

“Perhaps. It’s certainly worth a shot. And the Jinvaas Confederation, while we’re at it.”

Hayworth scrunched his nose but didn’t comment.

“Our comms network reaches their home world now, sir,” Taylor said.

“Send them a message that explains the situation, Lieutenant.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Meanwhile, we’ll prepare for departure in the next two days to track down the Admari. Time is of the essence.”

“I’d prefer to stay planetside with my team.” Hayworth crossed his arms. “We’re closing in on unraveling how to use the obelisk’s wormhole-generating capability.”

“Any objections from the engineering division?” David asked Merriweather and Hanson.

“None, sir,” Hanson replied.

“Very well, Doctor. See what you can figure out. Having the ability to evacuate civilians would be a blessing.”

“I was thinking more about evacuating ourselves,” Hayworth shot back.

David bit his lip but decided not to engage. There was too much going on to get into another debate with the doctor. “Any saved rounds, people?”

When no one replied, he continued, “Dismissed.”

Watching the small army of personnel exit through the hatch, David stayed in his seat and ran the possible scenarios through his mind. None of them seemed that good, but he had the inexorable belief that if they kept working the problem, between HaShem’s guidance, dogged human persistence, and the deep-seated survival instinct all sentient beings possessed, a solution would present itself. He had to cling to that hope.

Ruth munched happily on a cold-cut sandwich. The meat was spongey and didn’t taste like turkey or chicken, but she was used to that. The food was edible, and the mess cooks continually tried to mask the bitter flavors of Zeivlot and Zavlot ingredients—to varying degrees of success. Still, it was far better than starving.

“You almost look like you’re enjoying that,” Sergeant Susanna Nussbaum observed then tucked into one of the sandwiches.

“I’ve had worse. Vogtek prison food, for one.”

Both women chuckled.

“How’s that chevron feel on your uniform?” Ruth asked.

Susanna blushed. “I’m not quite used to it yet.”

“It was quite a shock when I got mine. Started seeing things differently, as I had to take charge of younger soldiers.”

“Yes. It is different. Now I’m telling a team of analysts what to do and reporting up to Lieutenant Yoshino.”

“Keep this up, and you’ll make general one day.”

“I do not see how that is possible.”

Ruth grinned. “Depends on how long we’re out here. Since General Cohen is a mustang, I doubt he’ll have any bias against promoting promising NCOs with proven command abilities.”

“This wasn’t supposed to be my life-spanning career,” Susanna replied.

“I know. But we are… where we are.”

Susanna was silent for a few moments before taking another bite of her sandwich, chewing, and swallowing. “Yoshino has changed my team’s objective recently.”

“Oh?”

“Since there are apparently no terrorist cells we can find left on Zeivlot or Zavlot, our job is to review background-signal output from the nanites.”

Ruth leaned back. “Sounds exceptionally boring.”

“It isn’t the most exciting work, no. But I’m hopeful we can find something… anything, to use against them. I have confirmed that they emit a kind of hum distinct from the background radio noise that stars and other celestial objects generate.”

“A hum?”

“That’s the best I can describe it. I’m operating off the theory that it’s a homing or tracking beacon of some sort.”

Ruth closed her eyes as the weariness of the last three years caught up with her. She shook her head. “This ticking clock is getting to me. Saving the universe, whatever planet it is this month, or generally riding to the rescue—”

“Is hard?”

“Yeah.”

“Straight is the gate and narrow is the way which leads to life. The Bible says that few find it. Perhaps that is why it is so hard for us.”

“I instinctively know that doing right isn’t easy and is usually the most difficult choice. But that doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Ruth replied.

“None of us do.” Susanna chuckled. “Amish just make it look like we do. Trust me. There are times I’d like to whack one of my brothers with a shovel.”

“Ah, if only our problems could be solved with a well-placed shovel whack.”

“How are things, ah, at home?”

Ruth’s cheeks heated, and she figured she’d probably turned several shades of red. “It’s good. Robert’s the best thing to happen to me since, well, my parents died.” She hated talking about what happened when she was a child and had only told a few souls the whole story, Susanna included.

“I’m glad. You need joy in your life.”

“We all do.” Ruth tilted her head. “Seeing anyone?”

Like Ruth, Susanna blushed. “No.”

Ruth took a sip of water. “Why not? You’re one of the few single and unattached women left on this ship. Nothing wrong with dating.”

“It doesn’t seem right with the eminent battle for our future. Perhaps afterward.”

“Are you still holding out for Jacob back home?”

“Somewhat, but I know it seems silly. I’m sure he’s found someone else, raised a barn, and started a family by now.”

“Do you really think that?”

Susanna wiped away a few tears. “It is our way.”

“Then there’s nothing wrong with being happy here. Some human companionship might help.”

“Our ways are old-fashioned, even among the Coalition.”

“Yeah, and? I’m sure some guys would enjoy a stroll around the atrium and dinner with an intelligent young woman.” Ruth grinned. “Gentlemen, to boot. What’s Colonel Demood call the comms geeks?”

“The nerd herd.”

“Yeah, them. They can’t get dates because of those awful BCGs.”

Susanna rolled her eyes. “Those birth-control glasses are the only thing that’s CDF issue. Besides, most of them are caring and nice to me.”

Ruth stared at her. “Then what are you waiting for? If someone’s shown interest, encourage him.”

“We’re taught not to.”

“Guys don’t like being shot down left and right. Just give a small sign, and watch what happens.”

“Maybe.”

Ruth set down her drink. “No maybes. Do it. That’s an order, Sergeant.”

Susanna laughed. “I’m not entirely sure you can do that.”

“Are you going to ask Colonel Aibek if I can?”

“Of course not.” Susanna blinked. “I would be terrified to try.”

“Aw. He’s incredibly good-natured for a Saurian.”

“I believe the key phrase is ‘for a Saurian.’”

Ruth could only imagine the response Aibek would give to such an inquiry. Probably a bunch of extra PT and cleaning assignments. Or he might just laugh at us. “These last six years, I’ve learned that life is a gift. Don’t make the same mistakes I have, okay?”

Susanna nodded. “I’ll think about it. How about that?”

“Better than no.” Ruth raised her water glass. “Now, when are you getting a formal promotion ceremony and, more importantly, wetting down your chevron?”

“After the nanites.”

“Oh, quit hoping we’ll all be dead so that you don’t have to go to a party.”

Susanna laughed. “I’m that transparent, am I?”

“Yup.” Ruth joined her and felt good in the moment. The small memories were all she had to focus on, rather than the impending doom that approached. It was how Taylor was coping, which seemed to work for him. It should for me too.

5

CSV Lion of Judah

Deep Space—Last Known Location of Admari Fleet

22 June 2466

A multicolored vortex opened far from any solar systems or celestial bodies, and moments later, the Lion glided out of it at maximum sublight. On the bridge, David stared straight ahead, out the large windows in front of the navigation and tactical stations. The sea of stars, backlit by a nebula a light-year away, was a sight to behold. So far, they had visited several locations in the void, searching in vain for the Admari fleet.

“Conn, TAO. Sensors online. No contacts, sir. The board is clear.”

David nodded. “Long-range deep scan, Captain.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

“Communications, wide-band transmission, all frequencies. Same as the others.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” Taylor replied.

Seconds turned into minutes. David felt impatient, as if each clock tick was wildly important. I suppose they may have moved to an entirely different section of the galaxy. Yet even as he pondered the Admari’s whereabouts, something told him they were still around, watching. So why not reply? “Anything, Lieutenant?”

Taylor shook his head. “No, sir. Nothing but static or silence. I’m not detecting anything within fifty light-years.”

David glanced at Aibek. “The Admari are pretty good at not being found.”

“That is true.” He lifted an eye scale. “They could be elsewhere. There are other locations to try.”

“Perhaps. Or we could be on a fool’s errand and taking some of the best minds in the fleet away from important work preparing for the nanites. Navigation, any other areas the Admari have been spotted at within the last six months within a single jump range?”

“Two, sir. But both are at the upper range of our Lawrence drive.”

David stroked his chin before pressing the intercom button on his chair. “Cohen to Hanson.”

“Go ahead, General.”

“How long for a complete cooldown sequence on our FTL?”

“Six hours, give or take, sir.”

David glanced at the bridge’s chronometer. It was the beginning of the morning watch, meaning the next jump would be a couple of hours after lunch. “Execute, and alert me as soon as it’s completed.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” Hanson replied, and the line went dead with a click.

“XO, you have the conn. I’ll be in my day cabin,” David said as he stood.

“This is the XO,” Aibek intoned. “I have the conn.”

Selagan stared at yet another report from one of the ark vessels. He seemed to spend more time than ever doing that lately. After a burst of optimism following the introduction of the human-created neutron beams, what passed for morale had waned. When your existence was measured in fifteen-unit increments, without anything that most species would consider a luxury, including a complete ration of food, there wasn’t much to look forward to.

Yet there was nothing he could do. Even the humans weren’t much help after Gral Brakasi had attacked them. Selagan suspected they believed the battle had been authorized by him, and many Admari felt the human response had gone too far. In their culture, destroying an ark was the absolute last resort and something no Admari would ever contemplate. Even for ships they took from, the code required that the vessel’s engines and life support not be harmed.

“Iskv, are you there?”

Selagan tapped his communication device. “Yes. I asked not to be disturbed.”

“The humans have contacted us again, Iskv.”

“Did I not make myself clear the last time? Do not respond.”

“It is General Cohen himself, Iskv. The message he recorded says they have found a new way to fight the pestilence and wish to share it with us.”

Selagan shook his head. Many of our kind will not be pleased if I interact with the humans. Already, there were discussions among the arks that his time had passed. Yet if there is a way to fight the pestilence that is stronger, I am a fool not to hear Cohen. He dealt forthrightly with us.

“Are you still there, Iskv?”

“Yes. Establish long-distance communications with the human vessel, and ensure I speak to General Cohen only.”

“Yes, Iskv.”

It would probably amount to nothing, but there was no harm in a few words. Selagan owed him that much.

While time might seem to pass slowly on the bridge, especially with nothing going on, it flew by in David’s day cabin. Frequently, he looked up and saw an hour had whizzed by. He was up to his eyeballs in shifting through selection board reviews of various commanding officer candidates. The sheer lack of qualified human candidates meant that most of the new vessels had almost entirely Zeivlot and Zavlot crews. David and the others performing the task of preparing the crew rosters took great care to ensure at least one experienced CDF officer or senior noncommissioned officer was on the bridge of each Ajax.

In David’s mind, having people who’d trained for decades and were steeped in the technology being used would be a force multiplier. I’m sure some Zeivlot and Zavlot officers think we don’t trust them, but that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Experience was worth its weight in gold in a combat situation. And we did spend thirty years fighting the League. Still, going from a couple dozen comparatively low-tech starships to hundreds of state-of-the-art destroyers was a big jump for both races. CDF personnel had retrained them from scratch on how to use human technology.

It seemed as if virtually all the recruits who made it through boot camp and “A” school were highly motivated. Which makes sense. We’re all facing Armageddon, but these people also face the loss of their families, friends, and entire worlds. If you can’t fight for that, you’re not capable of fighting for anything.

He was making notes on Major Wilson’s service jacket when the desk-mounted intercom buzzed.

“Sir, I’ve got a vidlink for you. It’s Selagan, the Admari leader.”

I guess he wanted to make us sweat. “Put him through to my tablet, Lieutenant.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

David toggled to the vidlink function on his device, and a few moments later, Selagan appeared on the screen. As was normal for his species, Selagan’s face was inscrutable and devoid of emotion.

“General Cohen, I received your message. It is most unusual.”

“We live in interesting times, Iskv. I had begun to think you wouldn’t respond.”

“After the incident with Brakasi, we assumed humanity wanted nothing further to do with my people.”

“I recognize they acted outside of the confines of our agreement, Iskv. We bear you no ill will over their actions.”

Selagan moved his head ever so slightly. “You wish us to help you against the nanites, yet your weapon is only of limited effectiveness. We have tested it to be sure.”

David pursed his lips. “We have made significant progress in developing a new weapon, Selagan. This one is considerably more effective and targets the subatomic bonds between the nanites. Our test exceeded all expectations.”

“Then why do you need our help?”

“Because,” David said as he leaned back in his chair, “we don’t have enough ships to defeat the entire swarm. It’s headed for a planet containing extremely advanced technology the nanites want to absorb. This world also has six billion inhabitants.”

“You wish us to risk our entire civilization to defend another? After knowing our history and the horrors we’ve endured in the void?”

“There’s a human saying: United we stand, divided we fall. Even with this weapon, there aren’t enough ships to defend Zeivlot and Zavlot.”

“Why would my people risk their lives for others?”

David crossed his arms. “Because you’ll never get a better chance to eradicate the nanites once and for all. And while we’re outfitting your ships with this new weapon, we’ll fix them in our shipyards. You’ll face the enemy at something approaching one hundred percent effectiveness.”

“You make a compelling argument, General. Yet our losses have caused my people to grow more cautious. When so many arks were destroyed, it made us realize how precarious our existence in the void is.”

“I thought they were willing to commit mass suicide to get our weapon,” David replied. “Given how you engaged the Lion, that certainly seemed the case.”

“The aftermath of thousands of Admari perishing may have changed that perception, General.”

David bit his lip. “I understand the concept of not wanting to die, Iskv. But from what you told me previously, life aboard your ships isn’t much of one. I’m offering an opportunity to eradicate the nanites from the universe. Fighting for your people to be able to live again… to me, that’s worth fighting for.”

“Some of us would do it for revenge.”

“Not the purest of motives but one I can understand too.”

Selagan seemed to stare into David’s soul through the camera. “Will you assist my people after the battle, should we win?”

David nodded. “Of course. No one’s going to be charging credits for ship repairs here.”

“You humans… are strange creatures. I will put this proposal to a vote, General. You will hear our answer within two rotations. With my backing, it will pass, and you have convinced me.”

“I’m glad. This is perhaps the first of many steps forward for our two peoples.”

Selagan gave something that approximated a human snort through his thin nose. “It is unreasonable to expect any of us to survive. But I appreciate your… what is the human word? Optimism?”

David forced a smile. “Yes, that’s a good one.”

“It is still better to die with honor.”

“The human expression is ‘Better to die on your feet than live on your knees.’”

“I like this. The Admari will be there, General.”

David pursed his lips. “I’ll have my communications officer send you the particulars, and we’ll slot your ships in for refits with what time we have left.”

“May you walk safely through the void.”

“Godspeed, Selagan.”

The vidlink went dark, and David returned the device to his desk before letting out a sigh. One down. That’ll get us another thirty to fifty vessels, but more are needed. He hoped the Jinvaas Confederation would also be open to the effort. Ultimately, he would face the nanites with whatever force was available. But every ship increased their chances of success, and he would fight as hard as he could for every single one.

6

Government Research Facility

Zeivlot

14 July 2466

While the Lion of Judah was off performing its diplomacy, Benjamin Hayworth was focused on what he considered far more critical endeavors. While they knew the Optami weapon worked, there were vast arrays of questions they didn’t have answers to. He was determined to fill in as many blanks as possible by simulating the conflict with the help of an advanced generative AI that the Mifreen hacker, Markul, had helped put together.

CDF personnel had used their simulation to run tabletop-style war games against the nanites. Yet I don’t know the outcomes. General Cohen thinks that’s classified. Just like the military. Keep us in the dark until we’re needed most.

“Another failure,” Merriweather remarked from her terminal.

“I believe the term is ‘not enough generated combat power,’” Markul interjected. The Mifreen hacker had donned human clothing and tried to blend in as much as possible. It helped that his form was bipedal.

Hayworth harrumphed. “We’ve run this a few thousand times now. The obvious solution is they need more ships.”

“We’re accounting for the added Admari vessels,” Merriweather replied. “But it’s still not enough. There’s so much mass in the nanite swarm that as far as I can tell, we’d need three to five times the number of vessels to have a shot at shooting them all down.”

“Another solution must be found,” Hayworth replied. “I should look into plans for a planetary-based weapon using antimatter.”

Merriweather stared at him. “There’s not enough time for something like that.”

“Do you have any better ideas?”

She remained silent.

“I still like the idea of hacking the nanites’ base code and programming them to fly into the nearest star,” Markul interjected.

“Yes, because that works in dumb holovids,” Hayworth replied. “Not the real world.”

The interface console buzzed again with yet another failure. Hayworth felt aggravated, mostly because he hadn’t yet solved the problem. What’s that military equation that General Cohen uses constantly? Lanchester’s Law. Yes. Quite the issue.

“Let’s take a break,” Merriweather said after a thirty-second silence. “Doing the same thing over and over again while expecting different results isn’t working too well for us. Perhaps there’s something simple that was overlooked, and a fresh perspective will bring it forward.”

Hayworth nodded and pulled up the precursor database interface. “Who wants to see if there are any galaxies active this week?”

“I heard one of the Zavlot scientists made a set of custom bingo cards for that thing.” Merriweather giggled. “One of the entries was ‘Find Giant Space Worm.’”

“How does that individual even know what bingo is?”

“Someone invited him to a game.”

“Uh, what’s a bingo?” Markul asked.

“It’s something humans play.” Hayworth crossed his arms. “And it’s quite silly, as are most games.”

“Speak for yourself, Doctor,” Merriweather replied. “I’ve enjoyed the few times I went.”

“Marking lines on a card?”

“No, talking to people and making friends.”

Hayworth snorted. “Overrated.” I’m in an awful mood. He knew he shouldn’t take it out on his friends, but the pessimism oozed out of every pore.

Merriweather didn’t reply beyond manipulating her console and throwing the status display for the galaxy-to-galaxy wormhole generator onto the holoprojector. The map had hardly any blue dots on it. The vast majority blinked orange and red.

“Wait.” Hayworth stood and pointed in the corner. “Is that the Milky Way?”

He couldn’t believe his eyes as the display zoomed in and showed blue for their home galaxy. It dumbfounded him, and he kept blinking to see if perhaps his vision was playing tricks. “Do both of you see this?”

Merriweather climbed out of her chair and walked over to join him. “I do.”

“What’s so important here, guys?” Markul asked.

“Our galaxy… is showing as active for a connection,” Merriweather replied.

“Does that mean you can go home?”

Hayworth stroked his chin. “It means that we can try. Pull up the connection interface, and I’ll see if I can reason out the command sequence.”

“Doctor, we can’t do that without authorization.”

“From whom?” Hayworth snapped.

“General Cohen, and I’m sure he’ll have to run it by Zupan Vog’t.” Merriweather’s eyes were as wide as saucers.

“Why? We’re the ones who unlocked the technology. If we can open a wormhole to home, we should take the opportunity.”

“What if there’s a technical issue? Or God forbid, it doesn’t work? Worse, what if it does work? The last thing we need is to drive a wedge of distrust between us and our host partners.”

Though Hayworth knew she was right, he didn’t particularly like it. After almost twelve years of working for the military, he wanted to go back to private research. A pity there’s no one else to fund me, and even if we survive, who knows what happens next. “Fine. We’ll do it your way.”

“Thank you, Doctor.” Merriweather blew out a breath. “I’ll get a gold-channel communication set up with the Lion of Judah. That should let us vidlink in real time.”

Markul didn’t speak. Instead, he made himself seem almost invisible at a terminal in the back of the lab.

He’s probably wondering where he’ll end up if we return to the Milky Way. Hayworth made a mental note to tell the younger Mifreen he would be happy to have him as a research assistant, regardless of what galaxy they were in.

David gazed out the windows at the front of the bridge, wishing away the hours until their next Lawrence drive jump. They had just over five hours to go, as he’d decided to baby the engines on the way back. I suppose I’d better bring up to Hanson the idea of performing a refit on the Lion at a modified Zeivlot shipyard. Maybe we could build one large enough to house this ship. There were a million logistical concerns with the massive vessel, but he couldn’t solve them in an afternoon.

Like where do we get more antimatter fuel when our supply runs out? At the moment, none of it really mattered until the nanites were dealt with. Once that happens, we can turn our attention to more mundane matters. He longed for that day.

“Conn, Communications. I’ve got a gold-level emergency vidlink request from Zeivlot, sir.”

David turned toward Taylor. “From?”

“Major Merriweather, sir.”

“Put it through to my monitor.”

“Begging your pardon, sir, but it’s marked eyes only.”

David glanced at Aibek. “XO, you have the conn.”

“Aye, aye, sir. Colonel Aibek has the conn.”

“Send it to my day cabin tablet, in that case, Lieutenant,” David said as he stood and headed for the double hatch at the back of the combined bridge and combat information center.

“Aye, aye, sir,” Taylor called after him.

David crossed the few steps to his office and biometrically unlocked the hatch. He moved with purpose, shut the hatch behind him, and dropped into the chair behind his desk before tapping the tablet a few times to open the vidlink.

The screen blinked on and off before an image of Merriweather appeared. “Can you hear me, sir?”

“I read you loud and clear, Major.”

A loud burst of static drowned out her next sentence. “—way home.”

“Say again.” David’s pulse quickened.

“We think we’ve found a way home, sir. The Milky Way’s showing as a valid destination on the precursor device.”

David’s jaw dropped. He replayed her words several times over in his mind. “What level of certainty do we have it works, Major?”

“Unknown until it’s tested, sir. This is a device that’s tens to hundreds of millions of years old, after all.”

The sheer amount of time involved was mindboggling. No, the very fact that we’re here, still alive, and wrestling with powers beyond our comprehension is more than enough. “Dr. Hayworth’s opinion?”

“He’s running tests now, sir.”

David leaned back. “I want a full report in two hours with the Lion’s senior staff. We’ll keep this close until there’s a better understanding of the risks. I do not want to get the crew’s hopes up only to dash them again. Clear?”

“Crystal, sir.”

“Good work, Major. All of you. Cohen out.”

The screen blinked off, and David tried to work through the wave of emotion that swept through him. A way home… that works. We’ve been trying to find it for years, and now it comes into focus? It seemed wondrous and almost impossible to believe. He touched the intercom on his desk and steeled himself for the conversation that came next.

“We can’t leave now,” Ruth interjected. “I don’t care what new gizmo Hayworth got working. To abandon these people to a civilization-ending threat is the height of wrong.”

David pursed his lips. The discussion had opened with informing the senior staff that Dr. Hayworth had possibly found a way home and wanted to test it—and spiraled into an argument that kept getting louder.

Before he could say anything, Calvin rapped his fist on the table. “Captain Goldberg is correct. There’s been too much Marine blood spilled for us to walk away.”

“No one is suggesting we walk away,” Merriweather replied. “But maybe we don’t all have to die. Have you considered that, Colonel? We’ve got options now.”

“Like what? Running back to the Milky Way with our tails tucked firmly between our legs?”

“Evacuate the civilians… as many as we can, for starters.”

David held up his hand. “Ladies, gentlemen… this infighting is getting us nowhere. As of right now, Dr. Hayworth thinks it’ll work. There’s no guarantee, and it could be yet another letdown.”

Merriweather gestured widely. “Half the people in this room seemingly don’t want to try.”

“That’s not true,” Ruth shot back.

“Enough.”

All eyes turned to David.

“No one wants to get this ship or crew home more than I do. But there is a competing priority, and that is the promise we made—that I made—to the Zeivlots and Zavlots. I recognize that the situation is grim, and our odds of success don’t look that good. But we have to try, and I’ll do that even if it’s me on the bridge, running the ship on automatic.”

“With respect sir, I would never allow that,” Tinetariro interjected. “There’s more than enough willing crewmen to run the ship.”

David flashed a small smile. “Thank you, Master Chief. Now, it goes without saying that I intend to try to open the wormhole back to our home. From there, we’ll figure out what’s what. There are many variables… not the least of which is if it works, where does it open up?”

“Sir, I must ask on behalf of those who want to return no matter what, will you allow those who would prefer to go home rather than fight to do so?” Merriweather asked.

“Yes, and before anyone says otherwise”—David glanced at Calvin—“no one who makes that choice, should it be an option, will be abused, insulted, or looked down upon in any way. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”

“Crystal, sir,” Ruth ground out.

Aibek flicked his tongue out, as if tasting the air. “I believe that we should equally do everything to find a way back and defend these innocents. The Prophet taught that true warriors use their blades to protect the weak. To do otherwise invites dishonor.”

After a few seconds, David said, “This isn’t an easy situation. But I know we will all do our duty. Let’s assume for a moment that the wormhole opens smoothly. What’s next?”

“We need to check it out remotely to see where it goes and if it’s stable enough for organic life-forms, sir,” Hanson interjected. “Lots of unknowns there.”

Amir leaned forward. “I could fly a fighter through it.”

“No need for that, Colonel,” Hanson replied. “I’ve already thought out how we could make a probe. But I’ll need to take apart a Starbolt missile.”

David raised an eyebrow. “And do what with it?”

“Remove the warhead and put in something remotely guidable that has a sensor package and a small ion thruster.” Hanson grinned. “Since we don’t have a science ship with us, as Dr. Hayworth reminded me for the umpteenth time today.”

“What else will you need?”

“The fab shops on the Salinan would be useful, sir.”

David nodded. “I’ll make sure you get whatever you need. Anyone else?”

A few shook their heads, but no one spoke.

“All right, then. We keep our eyes on the ball, continue the jumps back to Zeivlot, and execute. I will be making a formal request to the Zupan to let us power up the obelisk. While I doubt that conversation will be pleasant, I do think she’ll do the right thing and let us take the shot.”

“And if she refuses, sir? Are you willing to use force to gain access?” Merriweather asked.

That escalated quickly. “We’re not having that discussion yet.”

“But sir—”

“Not yet. And let us pray to God that we never do.” After a few seconds of silence, David continued, “Okay. We all know what to do. Dismissed.”

As they filed out, David felt loneliness like he wasn’t used to, even in a top-tier command position. Competing oaths and general questions of what was right or wrong filled his mind. HaShem, give me wisdom. Lead me on the path of Your will. However, all that was secondary to the next task in front of him: explaining the situation to his wife. She would take it in stride, but the suddenness of it all would have to be shocking. We’ll get through it. One day at a time.

7

On the exterior, David was his usually happy, even cheerful self as he and Aibek strode through the halls of the Zupan’s palace. The opulence around him was a sharp disconnect from how the rest of the planet lived, but the people had for hundreds of years built the palace and other halls of government up to be monuments. It reminded him somewhat of Lawrence City, but those structures were based on designs from old Earth nations such as the United States, Great Britain, and Turkey. It had a unique architecture, which was also present on Zeivlot.

David could almost see Arabic influences in the arches used for doorways. My mind playing tricks, of course, but it is interesting how some things are universal.

Behind the facade, he was conflicted. Competing thoughts of getting home versus doing what they’d promised in terms of stopping the nanites were ever present. While David knew he couldn’t leave, the moral question of whether he had the right to ask his crew to do the same haunted him. And by giving them a choice, I’m setting the expectation that they’ll choose to stay, no matter what I say, because I’m staying to fight. Of course, that was supposing the alien devices would function.

But something deep inside said they probably would, with the interactions so far with the precursor technology.

A Zeivlot in what passed for a sharp business suit on their world pushed open a door as both David and Aibek reached the end of a hallway. “Through here.”

David stepped through into a large conference room, one he’d been in before for briefings. But there were only two people in the room besides him and Aibek: Vog’t and her senior military advisor, War Leader Azmi Ceren. Both of them wore frowns, and neither appeared especially happy to see the two Coalition officers.

“Thank you for coming in person, General,” Vog’t said as the double doors shut behind them.

“A discussion of this magnitude is the sort of thing that can only be done face-to-face,” David replied.

He and Aibek respectfully braced to attention.

“Please, sit with us.” Vog’t gestured to the nearest chairs.

“Thank you, Zupan.” Once he was settled in, David continued, “I’ll avoid rehashing the information in our prebrief except to say we want your permission to open the wormhole. If it’s a viable means of transport, we’ll see where it connects to in the Milky Way.”

“Then you will leave,” Ceren interjected harshly.

David bit his lip. “No.”

“Why wouldn’t you? You’d be insane not to take a way back to your home and away from the calamity on its way here.”

“I gave my word to defend your world and Zavlot. Among humans, your word and reputation are all you have. I will keep my promise.”

“You’ve been using us this entire time,” Ceren spat.

“Do not impugn my honor or that of my friend unless you wish to see just how strong a warrior I am,” Aibek hissed.

“War Leader, Colonel, please,” Vog’t said. “We’re concerned, General Cohen. You must understand that the survival of our species is at stake. It leads to harsh rhetoric.”

David couldn’t fault either of them, because he would feel the same way. “I do. And I take no offense at the war leader’s comments … though I might watch what I said to an alien with the strength of any three of us.”

The joke didn’t seem to land.

“Our faith in you and humanity is shaken, General.” Vog’t spread her hands out on the table. “Yet we cannot force you to stay. Instead, I beg you not to abandon us in our dire hour of need.”

The translator still took half a second to pick up the words and play them back in David’s earpiece. “Neither the Lion of Judah nor I will be going anywhere, even if the link is successful. And we don’t know if it’s going to work or not. But I must try… because I owe it to my crew to get them home. Keep in mind that it would offer us a way to evacuate at least some of your civilians so that Zeivlot and Zavlot might remain viable as a species if we lose the battle.”

“Where would they go?” Ceren snapped.

“If the wormhole was anywhere close to Terran Coalition space, I would expect my government to take in as many as it could while working to find you a habitable planet to colonize.”

“Even if that was possible, most of our people don’t want to abandon their homes.”

David nodded. “I understand.”

Ceren narrowed his eyes. “What are you not telling us, General? I’ve heard the rumors that your war games didn’t work, and you still have Hayworth searching for scientific advantages.”

The walls have ears, indeed. David steeled himself as he decided on a response. Taking away all hope wasn’t a solution. “We decided, as we informed you and Zavlot’s leadership, that more ships are needed. That hasn’t changed.”

“Do not dodge the question. Can the current force defeat the nanites?”

“I don’t know.” David stared at the war leader. “There’s a big difference between simulations and the real thing. Highly motivated soldiers perform acts that seem impossible all the time. I’ve seen it in combat, and I know you have too.”

Ceren inclined his head. “Yes, that is a true statement. But this isn’t fighting insurgents in the mountains.”

“No, it’s not. Look, panicking your population and our military force isn’t going to do anything but hurt the cause.”

“That much, I can agree with,” Vog’t replied wryly. “But can we defeat them?”

“We will do our best with the available forces. Frankly, though, we need more ships. And not just a few more. Dozens. Hundreds would be good. That doesn’t change my commitment.”

Vog’t and Ceren exchanged glances before she spoke. “What do you believe we should do?”

“Right now? What we’re doing. That’s all we can do. I’ll exert maximum effort to recruit the Jinvaas Confederation. The shipyards will push out every last Ajax-class destroyer they can, and the planetside factories will build as many Phantoms as possible. Ultimately, though, it’s going to come down to what we place our faith in. Some put their trust in neutron beams, others in magnetic cannons and deflector shields. I put mine in the Lord my God.”

“Then we will as well,” Vog’t replied.

Ceren shook his head. “Appealing to the Maker is fine and well, but I haven’t seen Him alter the outcome of a battle.”

I have. David shrugged. “We all have to decide for ourselves what we believe, War Leader. I will give you both every ounce of energy and brainpower I have. And if it comes down to it, I will make the ultimate sacrifice for your worlds. I cannot do more.”

Vog’t cleared her throat. “Thank you, General. I trust you will do all that can be done. You have my permission to attempt a wormhole with your galaxy.”

“Zupan—”

She held up her hand. “I believe General Cohen’s oath. There is nothing to gain from denying him the opportunity and everything to achieve for our people.”

“And if they abandon us?”

“Then the Maker will judge them, as He judges us all.” Vog’t glanced at David.

David inclined his head. “Thank you, Madame Zupan.”

“Keep us updated on your progress.”

Arthur Hanson tapped at his tablet, checking on an antimatter intermix ratio. When it came up normal, he moved on to the next one. The Lion had arrived back in orbit of Zeivlot two days ago, and following the series of back-to-back Lawrence drive jumps, most of them at maximum range, Hanson wanted to ensure everything was still in perfect condition. He was so intent on the task that a rustling behind him didn’t register.

“Really, my boy, you should leave math to the professionals.”

Hanson whirled around to find Hayworth behind him, hefting his tablet. “Uh, hey, Doc. Didn’t hear you.”

“Yes, you were quite immersed in whatever you do here.” Hayworth gestured to the expansive reactor control area overlooking the Lion’s antimatter reactor core.

“Mostly simple safety checks, but I like to put my eyes on them to ensure nothing is out of tolerance.”

Hayworth snorted. “Don’t you have… What do you military types call them? Enlisted ratings? For that sort of thing?”

“I do, but what kind of chief engineer would I be if I didn’t do grunt work too?” Hanson flashed a smile.

“A more efficient one,” Hayworth deadpanned.

“Maybe, but I like this system.”

“It’s good to have a process. So, what exactly did you send me?”

“I’ve got an idea for mutating the energy-wave output on our shield generators to match our neutron-beam output. I got as far as I could with it before sending the equation to you.”

“To what end?”

“I’d prefer to keep that close right now. Might be a different way to fight the nanites.”

Hayworth grumbled. “Is this a weapon?”

“Only against the nanites. It would have no use anywhere else.”

“Fine,” he replied and waved his tablet in the air. “It’s a passable first attempt, especially for an engineer not versed in theoretical physics. I can refine the equation for you with Markul’s help.”

“I’d be grateful, Doc.”

“How soon do you need it?”

“A week would be fine. In the meanwhile, I’ll keep refining on my end and send you any updates I have.”

“That is acceptable.” Hayworth turned to go then whipped back around. “Are you going back to the Milky Way if the test works?”

“Assuming a stable wormhole? No, probably not.”

Hayworth narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

“Because General Cohen needs me here.”

“This is a suicide mission. We both know that.”

Hanson shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. But I owe the general my life. So does everyone on this ship. If he decides that the cost is worth it to defend these people, that’s all I need to know.”

“Even if there’s no possibility of victory?”

“It’s up to us to find a way. Maybe get some help from the big guy while we’re at it.”

Hayworth crossed his arms. “If there is a solution, it comes solely from our brains or the knowledge and technology left by those aliens from hundreds of millions of years ago. Not an imaginary man in the sky.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll figure that out if you can, Doc.”

“Yes, I will.” Hayworth grunted. “I’ll be in touch once I parse through adjusting your math.”

“Thanks, Doc.”

Hayworth only harrumphed in reply as he shuffled off.

At least the doc hadn’t completely ripped the equation apart. Hanson had found the kernel of a solution to their problem of destroying the nanite sphere, but it would depend on how much energy he could coax out of the shield generators. Hey, I’m an engineer. We like the impossible. With a grin, he went back to work.

8

Since David and Bo’hai had broken the glass, life had changed in many ways. Some were quite obvious, and others were subtle. One of the things he hadn’t expected was how much living with another person would change his routine. Sure, they’d spent a lot of time together before the wedding, but afterward, she’d moved into his quarters.

Since the CO’s quarters were akin to an apartment on the Lion of Judah, it wasn’t cramped. But he’d had to get used to having her in his space all the time. David hadn’t realized how much he cherished some alone time to process whatever had happened in the day.

Also, David was content to sleep in his day cabin on deck one most of the time, since it was steps from the bridge. But he’d tried to go to their shared quarters every night since the ceremony. He wanted to spend as much time with his wife as he could, and he could tell she craved intimacy—holding hands and being next to him as much as possible. It was essential to her.

And when Bo’hai wasn’t affectionate, he could easily determine something was bothering her. David tended to bring his military training to everything he did. If a problem existed, he called it out and dealt with it.

She’d been distant the entire night and avoided anything more than small talk, while her body language screamed, “Go away!”

“So, who’s going to go first?” David asked after fifteen minutes on the couch in which neither of them spoke.

Bo’hai brushed a strand of purple hair out of her eyes. “What do you mean?”

“You haven’t held my hand once tonight, nor have we sat beside each other. The test is tomorrow… so I could draw some conclusions there.”

“I’m fine.”

David tilted his head. “Salena, I was born at night, but I wasn’t born last night. You’re anything but fine.”

She narrowed her eyes and blew out a breath. “I would prefer not to trouble you.”

“It is no trouble to discuss anything on your mind.”

Bo’hai shook her head. “The burden is too much now. We will address it later.”

David chuckled. “Oh no. I saw this particular thing play out with my parents too many times. Out with it.”

“But tomorrow—”

He held up a hand. “The test is a big event but not bigger than us.”

Bo’hai turned away.

“Okay, if you won’t tell me, let me take a stab at it. You’re worried about something to do with the test.” David wasn’t exactly reaching some fantastic insight. Opening a wormhole back to the Milky Way was a momentous event and one that was causing a lot of angst among the crew and their partner forces on Zeivlot and Zavlot.

“Not exactly,” she replied and turned back to him with tears in her eyes. “I’m scared you will leave. That all of you will go. That is… what any sane person would do.”

He would’ve expected those words from any other Zeivlot. But not her. David took her hands. “Listen to me. I’m not leaving. I made a promise to defend your world. As far as I’m concerned, I made that promise to you, your leader, and more importantly, to HaShem.”

“But a way to get home…”

David kissed the top of her head and gestured to the room. “Wherever you are is my home.”

Bo’hai smiled and dried her tears. “Promise?”

“I promise.” He squeezed her hands. “You know I feel an obligation here. We interfered with your solar system, and there were consequences. Some good. Some bad. I believe most of us feel that same pull to help. Regardless, as humans like to say, don’t get in front of your skis.”

“Skis?”

“It’s a thing we put on our feet so we can move quickly through snow.”

She seemed to process the words for a few moments before nodding. “I see. Well, no, not really.”

“I’ll show you a video tomorrow, and it’ll make sense.”

Bo’hai scooted across the couch and curled up against him. “Okay.”

They stayed like that for some time, not speaking because no words were needed. David felt peace, and moreover, he knew he was loved. Going through life as he had without forming attachments because of the constant threat of loss from the war with the League of Sol had created a hole he didn’t know the depths of until Bo’hai’s love filled it. The way she made him feel was unlike anything else he’d experienced. He only wished the moment would never end.

David exited the gravlift on deck one and strode down the short passageway to the bridge entrance. Both Marine sentries came to attention and saluted. While neither soldiers nor Marines saluted without cover, the exception was when an individual was under arms. Since both sentries carried energy pistols, a salute was proper. He acknowledged both with a slight nod and passed between them.

“General on deck!” Master Chief Tinetariro shouted.

Immediately, anyone not strapped into their station came to attention.

Unlike most days, there were many extra people on the bridge. Dr. Hayworth, Merriweather, Dr. Tural, and even Lieutenant Bodell were milling about out of the way.

“As you were,” David said and made eye contact with several soldiers along the back of the control center. “We’re all hoping this succeeds. But remember that no matter the outcome, we’ve still got a job to do. Don’t lose sight of it.”

“Yes, sir!” came a chorus from enlisted personnel and more than a few officers.

David nodded and strode to the dual CO’s and XO’s chairs. “Colonel Aibek, I have the conn.”

“General Cohen has the conn. Aye,” Aibek hissed. “All systems normal and ready to proceed.”

“Excellent.” David took his seat and stared out into the void. Apprehensiveness was evident throughout everyone‘s faces, and he wasn’t immune. “Dr. Hayworth, status?”

“It’s not every day we try to defy the laws of physics, but I suppose everything is ready. Let’s hope it doesn’t cause a rupture in the space-time continuum and smear us all into our collective atoms.”

David exchanged glances with Aibek. “That’d be a bad outcome, Doctor. Engineering set, XO?”

“Checked and rechecked.”

“Dr. Hayworth, signal the ground team to start the ignition sequence. Everyone else… hang on to your seats.”

As the scientist and his team executed the order, David felt a pang of regret. Most if not all of us want to go home more than anything, even if they’re hiding it. Even I do. So why the single-minded focus on saving the Zeivlots and Zavlots? He wondered if perhaps his marriage to Bo’hai was clouding his judgment. He’d considered it repeatedly over the last couple of weeks, since Merriweather and the science team made the discovery. It’s something deeper. David glanced at his hands. Even after three years since the end of the League of Sol war, all he saw on them was blood. Maybe that’s it. Just like Asperion, I want to balance the scales.

“Activation sequence started,” Hayworth said.

Nothing seemed to change in the view through the window or on the tactical plot. Seconds passed and turned into minutes.

“Status, Doctor?”

“Ground team reports energy continues to build within safe tolerance limits. We have no idea how—”

Suddenly, an intense beam of pure-white light erupted from the surface of Zeivlot. It wasn’t possible to tell how far away the terminus was, but a vortex opened and rapidly grew.

“Conn, Communications. Zeivlot ground station reports that beam initiated from the top of the obelisk!” Taylor called in a high-pitched voice, excitement almost radiating from him.

“TAO, what kind of range between us and the… whatever that is?”

“It’s a few million kilometers away, sir. I’ll have a better answer once all these exotic particles stop scrambling our sensors,” Ruth replied.

Through the window, the phenomenon continued to grow. Given the distance, David was amazed at how brilliant and detailed it was. It’s got to be huge.

Finally, it stopped growing.

“If these readings are correct… we’ve got a stable wormhole,” Hayworth said a few moments later.

“Conn, TAO. Confirmed. Normal exotic-particle levels returning.”

“The question is ‘Where does it go?’” David stood. “Make tube one ready in all respects, and open the outer doors.”

“Outer doors open. Tube one ready in all respects.”

The modified missile carrying their probe sat within. A science ship would’ve had a dedicated launcher and special gear to bring the device back aboard, but it was the best Hanson and the engineers could come up with in the time they’d had.

“Firing point procedures, tube one, target the mouth of the wormhole.”

“Firing solution set, sir.”

“Match bearings, shoot, tube one.”

The single Starbolt missile erupted from the Lion’s bow and quickly turned toward the distant subspace vortex. Its warhead was replaced by the makeshift probe. Everyone seemed to hold their breath as the blue icon on the tactical plot tracked ever closer to its intended target.

David stared at his readout and involuntarily gripped the armrests of his chair.

“Approaching separation point, sir.”

“Commence separation, TAO.”

“Probe released.”

A bright flash of light came from the mouth of the wormhole.

A few seconds later, Ruth said, “Receiving a signal from the probe, sir. Telemetry is good.”

David stood and faced Hayworth. “Doctor?”

“It’s… It’s in the Milky Way.” Hayworth stumbled into the chair behind his makeshift station.

It took a few moments for his words to sink in. All at once, shouts of joy broke out. Those standing embraced, and some applauded.

Master Chief Tinetariro stood, but David saw her out of the corner of his eye and shook his head. They deserve to celebrate. She nodded and returned to her seat. The cheering continued for several minutes before he stood and raised his fist.

All at once, the tumult ceased. “I know this feels good, ladies and gentlemen, but we have much left to do. Back on target. Focus on your jobs, and we’ll run down the art of the possible for using this wormhole.”

“Aye, aye, sir” echoed back at him.

David turned and slid back into his chair. “Communications, work with Dr. Hayworth to set up a relay to transmit into the Milky Way. Let’s determine where that probe landed and see if we can establish comms while the wormhole stays open.”

Taylor cleared his throat, “Aye, aye, sir.”

“It is written that there would be a tearing of the heavens, and from within it would come deliverance from evil,” Bo’hai said quietly as she appeared at David’s side.

“A prophecy?”

“Yes.”

David shook his head. “You know my policy on those.”

“Is it not wonderous, though?”

“Beyond my wildest expectations.” David stared at the swirling mass of charged particles that morphed through a kaleidoscope of colors. No part of him had expected that sort of outcome on the first try. Yet there they were. However, he was experiencing equal parts excitement and trepidation. What will General MacIntosh and President Spencer say about all this, assuming we can contact them? Time would soon tell.

9

PASCORE Control Center

Trenchant Prime—Terran Coalition

18 August 2464

Command of Passive Scan Observation and Reporting—PASCORE—had to be one of the least physically active in the Coalition Defense Force. Built around a network of hundreds of thousands of sensor systems, stretching the length of the Coalition’s border with the League, and making use of deep-space observation systems to monitor all wormhole traffic, it was basically a giant control room hundreds of meters belowground.

Theoretically, the location of the control center was one of the most protected secrets in the Terran Coalition, to the point that its data wasn’t considered shareable with SATO members without review.

But many suspected that something odd happened in Daranj, and a lot of people never talked about what they did for a living. On top of that, the League knew what PASCORE was and where it was based. Regardless, Colonel Imran Siddiq had a simple goal during his tour of duty—not to screw up the system.

They’d completed numerous upgrades after a scare with a League spy apparatus that came close to neutralizing the effectiveness of the technology. CDF Special Projects engineers had reworked the entire thing to be hardened against electronic spoofing and further hacking by outside entities.

But any time engineers came up with a better mousetrap, the universe seemed to create a more intelligent mouse. At some point, the League would again wise up and find a way around their new methods, which forced them to always be looking for the next technology, the next process, and a new way of doing things that would make the first line of defense against invasion even stronger.

Some sort of tumult started on the Joint Operations Center floor, where dozens of CIS and CDF analysts worked side by side to sift through the raw data. Before Siddiq could save the notes on the report he was reviewing, the door to her office flew open.

“Colonel, you’ve got to see this,” First Lieutenant Yagalom said breathlessly. He wasn’t prone to exaggeration. In fact, in the eight months he’d been posted to PASCORE, he’d never seen him so excited.

Siddiq sprang from his chair. “Are we under attack?”

“No, sir. It’s… I’ll let the sensor data speak for itself, sir.”

He jogged behind him, crossing over a corridor and using the biometric handprint scanner to gain entry into the JOC floor. The area was overloaded with personnel—at least twice the usual number.

“Colonel on deck!” an eagle-eyed NCO barked.

At once, the yelling stopped, and everyone turned toward Siddiq.

“Is the League attacking, or did Galt just unleash a war fleet?”

“There’s an active wormhole that’s been stable for three minutes and counting. It’s fifty thousand kilometers away from an uninhabited planet in a solar system near New Cornwall,” an analyst sitting at a station marked Spatial Phenomena said.

Such a thing was unheard of. “Is it naturally occurring?”

“I don’t think so, sir. Stable wormholes are postulated, but we’ve never found one, and it’s highly unlikely it would simply appear at an uninhabited neutral planet not too far from our border.”

“Then what is it?”

Another young man interjected from across the room, “It’s not natural. The power output levels on this thing are three hundred times normal levels.”

That got Siddiq’s attention. “I’m not an engineering duty officer, but the range on such a wormhole would be… a lot farther than we can go now.”

“Try from another galaxy,” the same young analyst replied.

“It could be an invasion of extradimensional aliens.”

Siddiq cleared his throat. “Let’s remember this is real life, not a holovid show. Less speculation, more facts, people. Comms, get me a direct link to COMSPACEFLT, and contact any CDF or Border Enforcement vessels in the area. We need close-up scans.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Lieutenant Yagalom, pipe that vidlink to my office immediately. I don’t care if they have to get General MacIntosh out of bed. This can’t wait.”

Siddiq turned on his heel. What had been a boring day had become the most stressful in his career—and that was saying something, since he’d served on the front for more than a decade. Wormholes from another galaxy? What’s next? The return of Muhammad?

David felt confident his blood pressure was higher than at any point other than the Third Battle of Canaan. Minute after minute, he stared at the massive swirling vortex of the artificially constructed wormhole generated by the precursor obelisk. Everything they understood about the Lawrence drive suggested that the longer the construct was active, the more energy it consumed, rapidly becoming impossible to maintain.

Yet after almost an hour, the wormhole remained active.

“Doctor, is the probe still transmitting telemetry?”

“The answer is the same as it was five minutes ago. Yes.”

David glanced behind him to Dr. Hayworth’s station, which was formally a damage control substation, but because of how integral the science team had become, having the doctor on the bridge made more sense. “To use a nonscientific term… this is weird.”

“It’s beyond weird. The behavior we’re seeing completely blasts through our understanding of physics. I can only speculate that the vacuum energy output from the obelisk is virtually inexhaustible.” Hayworth sounded giddy.

Well, for a scientist, this is probably the most exciting day of his life. “So, we know it’s still active.”

“More to the point, there’s a strong possibility it’s a two-way wormhole.”

David stood and faced Hayworth. “I thought those were strictly naturally forming.”

“So did we all.”

“If it is a two-way wormhole, we could get reinforcements from the Milky Way,” Aibek interjected. “This is most positive and shows the Prophet will bless our efforts to defend the innocents.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, XO. Right now, I’m more focused on the practical. Bring the probe back through the vortex, Doctor.”

Hayworth raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because I want to see if it survives the transit. If it does, we’ll send it back and keep transmitting our hail.”

“Logical.”

“Thank you, Doctor. Now carry out my orders.”

“Yes, sir.”

Is it just me, or is he even crankier than usual? David had to admit it felt like they were in a pressure cooker. The possibility of getting home only added to it. Yet he remained focused on the objective he’d set in his mind: defending the Zeivlots and Zavlots. The rest was a means to help him accomplish that goal.

Under Hayworth’s guidance, the probe flipped around and headed back through the wormhole.

David could feel every eye on the bridge staring at the tactical plot on the holotank in the control room’s center. Normally, Master Chief Tinetariro chided any rating who deviated from his or her assignment, but there was silence as all held their breath.

The probe completed the transition in a few moments before exiting from the mouth of the Sextans B side of the vortex.

“All functions… normal.” Hayworth blew out a breath. “We’ve just discovered the first two-way artificially generated wormhole, ladies and gentlemen. That is a stunning achievement.”

The possibilities seemed endless. But only if a human can survive the trip. “Doctor, are there any anomalies in the probe’s structural integrity?”

“Anything to suggest it’s different from our usual Lawrence drive jump that would preclude a biological organism from taking the trip? No.”

Sometimes, I wish he wouldn’t put things in such harsh relief around the crew. David smiled thinly. “Then what’s the next step in your mind?”

“There’s nothing more we can do without sending a human.”

David nodded. “My thinking as well.”

At the back of the bridge, Amir stood. “I will volunteer to transverse the anomaly myself, sir.”

“Figured you’d say that, old friend.”

Before either of them could comment further, Taylor interjected, “Sir, I’m getting an incoming transmission. It’s got a Coalition signature.”

David whirled around. “Put it on my viewer, Lieutenant.” He quickly returned to his seat.

Just in time, the screen above the CO’s chair came alive with the image of a Coalition vessel, though it didn’t appear to be a military configuration. “This is Captain Jefferson Walker, commanding the Terran Coalition Frontier Enforcement cutter Unimak. To whom am I speaking?”

“General David Cohen, Coalition Defense Force, commanding the Lion of Judah. It’s good to see you, Walker.”

After a pause, the cutter commander ran a hand over the top of his hairless head. “Okay, this is pretty good. Whoever you are, the AI overlay tech is impressive. Sending a fake distress call is a class E felony under the Coalition code. I suggest you cease immediately before we’re forced to trace this vidlink and put out a warrant.”

David blinked in surprise then realized that to Walker, the long-lost Lion returning probably seemed farfetched. “I can assure you we’re quite real. Comms, send a gold-level authorization code over to Captain Walker.”

With a smug expression, the cutter’s commander said, “You’re carrying the joke a bit too—”

Someone off-screen interjected a statement that got Walker’s attention. He turned back to the camera, clearly shaken. “General… I apologize. No disrespect was intended.”

“None taken. It was a shock for us too. Do you have access to the CDF’s comms network?”

“Uh, yes, sir. In times of emergency, which I think this qualifies.”

“I need you to get word to CDF Command immediately. And if you wouldn’t mind telling us, how are things at home?”

“Well, the Coalition’s at peace. The League is keeping its end of the peace deal so far. You know the drill, though. Always vigilant.”

David pursed his lips. “Good. I’m glad to hear it.”

“We’ll get on this message, sir, and hold position so comms can be relayed. Good to have the Lion of Judah back, General.”

“Good to be back, Captain.” Heh. He’s too flustered to even ask me where we are. David didn’t blame the man, as he’d be in shock too.

Walker swallowed. “Godspeed, sir.”

The screen blinked off, and David shook his head. “Is this really happening? We all saw that, right?”

Aibek chuckled. “Yes, though I share your disbelief.”

“Leave it to the scientists to pull out a miracle again,” Hayworth interjected. “I’m going to assume we can transit ships through this construct, like a regular Lawrence drive–generated wormhole.”

“How long will it stay open?” David asked as he spun around in his chair. “That’s the sixty-four-million-credit question.”

Hayworth stroked his chin. “It could be that most of the power was used to, in effect, drill a hole through the space-time continuum. Perhaps the energy needed to keep it open is negligible.”

“That would suggest an entirely new FTL system, Doctor,” Hammond said. “Lawrence drives simply don’t work like that.”

“Yes, well, we don’t normally find alien structures over a hundred million years old with the languages of races that exist today on them, either. Clearly, we’re dealing with the unknown.” Hayworth harrumphed. “The biggest question is ‘What do we do with this?’ You have an opportunity to, at the least, send our people home.”

“Not the time or place for that discussion, Doctor. Once we fully understand the situation, then we’ll deliberate and come to a decision. Our respective governments have input too.”

Hayworth seemed to get the message and didn’t reply beyond a curt nod.

“The day got much more interesting, as you humans say.” Aibek shifted in his chair. “I did not expect this outcome.”

Truth be told, nor had David. He’d figured the eons-old alien technology was a dead end beyond what it had already given them. But perhaps we can get reinforcements from the Milky Way. Anything would be welcome to bolster our forces. David hoped that ship-rebuilding efforts hadn’t been neglected after the war. Then he realized he was focused more on saving the Zeivlots and Zavlots than getting his crew home. That realization didn’t seem positive. What’s the morally right thing to do? He had much to ponder.

10

Oval Office

The White House—Canaan

18 August 2466

Some days, Justin Spencer felt lucky to be alive, full of vigor, and ready to face anything the universe threw at him. Others, he was weary down to his bones at the grind of politics. Attending meeting after meeting was par for the course as the president of the Terran Coalition, but the ones for that day weren’t about policies, dealing with the country’s macroeconomic conditions, the CDF’s readiness posture, or whatever new crisis had developed. No, they were about his most hated topic: politics.

Justin and Richard Rollins, his chief of staff, were seated on the couches in front of the Resolute Desk. The decor of the Oval Office changed ever so slightly with each new president, though the main layout did not. Justin’s most significant contribution had been an oversized jar of jelly beans. Most other touches came from his wife, Michelle.

“Your eyes glazed over again, sir,” Rollins said after a pause.

“Richard, you know how much I hate this.”

“Campaigning got you elected.”

“The first and second times. I have one objective this term: to heal our wounds as a nation and help the Coalition move on.”

“Part of that is ensuring your ideological ideas are carried forward,” Rollins replied.

“So you’ve said.”

He sat back and let out a sigh. “I’ve known you a long time, Mr. President. And I’m telling you this Boy Scout routine impacts not just you but the party and what we all believe in as well.”

“Do you forget that Vice President Fuentes and I vowed to remain neutral? I haven’t even done a fundraiser for Rachel Muraro.”

“Oh yes, I know that quite well.” Rollins narrowed his eyes. “There are whispers behind the scenes that you’re not fulfilling your duty to the party and the conservative movement in general.”

“Let me guess—Senator Kaufman?”

“One of a few.”

Justin snickered. “That blowhard doesn’t care about anything other than getting on Canaan News Network and driving more donations.”

“Maybe not, sir… but he’s got a lot of friends. More importantly, friends who owe him in the Senate and Assembly.”

“Read my lips: I don’t care.”

Rollins chuckled. “You could cut some holospots for Muraro, boosting her bona fides around defense.”

“And subtly remind voters that O’Conner was once in the Peace Union?”

“Yes.” Rollins stared at him relentlessly. “Do I need to remind you that he’s pretty left of center on almost all other issues too?”

Justin blew out a breath. The truth was no, he didn’t care for Gregory O’Conner’s views on almost anything. But he’d made a promise to Fuentes. “I gave my word, Richard. If that means nothing, then anything I’ve ever said is worthless.”

“No moving you here, is there?”

Justin shook his head.

“Muraro was your vice president during your first two terms. You owe her too.”

“If we don’t set aside political polarization, Richard, the Terran Coalition will never recover. We’ve got to come back together as one people. I’ve been promoting that for three years, and I’m not turning my back on it now.”

Rollins pursed his lips. “And if we get an O’Conner administration?”

Justin shrugged. “I wouldn’t and won’t vote for him. But he’s a mainstream candidate. More importantly, he’s a citizen. That’s what we have to bury once and for all… this business of if you have different political views, you’re the enemy. We’re all Terrans. The Coalition can endure a few years of bad policy ideas. It won’t survive if half the population thinks the other half is their mortal enemy, to be destroyed at all costs.”

“Senator Kaufman would say you’re being unreasonable.”

“And I’d say he’s only making things worse by refusing to find common ground. There are still issues that have bipartisan support.”

“Common ground with whom, sir? The Peace Union?”

Justin wanted to throw his hands into the air and scream. “No. Not with Rhodes or her ilk. But with the men and women who still value rational thought and look for ways we can make our country better.”

“Precious few of those on the other side.”

“They’d probably say the same about us.”

“And if O’Conner wins and decides to push through the socialism he flirted with in the Senate?”

“I’d use every piece of political capital I have to defeat it. Besides, the Senate isn’t flipping this time around. We have checks and balances for a reason.”

Rollins bit his lip. “You’re being naive, sir. Whatever truce you and Fuentes have worked out, yes, it’s worked. No one is more surprised by that than me, frankly. But it’ll fall apart once the two of you are gone. Then we’ll be in a worse position.”

“Perhaps I am. But I believe we’ve already faced the abyss as a nation and will continue to step back from it.”

“I deal in cold, hard facts, sir. That’s why you brought me in all those years ago.”

Justin chuckled. “Yes, ever the realist, Richard.”

“So you’re not cutting a spot for Rachel?”

Before Justin could answer, one of the two doors flew open, and a senior military attaché rushed in, followed quickly by a protective service officer. His heart skipped a beat, as such activity usually meant something terrible had occurred in the galaxy. Lord, what is it now?

“Mr. President, PASCORE and the TCBEC Unimak have confirmed the Lion of Judah has been found.”

Justin jumped off the couch. “Where? Is the crew safe?”

“Four and a half million light-years away, sir, in a different galaxy. There’s a stable wormhole that allows two-way communication and travel.”

“We’re sure?”

“Completely, sir. General MacIntosh is speaking with General Cohen right now.”

Hearing that the Lion had returned after years of being lost to the void felt like a dream. Justin had long since given up on seeing David or any of his brave crew again. Because of the official finding that the ship had been destroyed in a freak Lawrence drive accident, most of the Coalition had grieved and moved on, though he knew from checking in from time to time that many of the families hadn’t. And how could they with no bodies to bury or memorialize?

Justin turned to Rollins. “It would seem our conversation has been overtaken by events. If there’s anything that can help bring our country back together, it’s this.” Maybe that was God’s plan all along.

“Perhaps, sir.” Rollins seemed stunned as well. “I must confess that’s not what I expected.”

Justin chuckled. “Nor I. Colonel, inform Andrew that I want him over here the moment he’s done with General Cohen.”

“Yes, sir.”

As the man turned to leave, Justin licked his lips. “Richard, track down Edwardo and tell him personally before anyone else does. Then tell him to come to the Oval.”

“On it, sir.” Rollins turned to go.

The door closed behind all three men, leaving Justin to his thoughts. He returned to the Resolute Desk and sat behind it. As he glanced at a picture of Feldstein, Adeoye, Mateus, and Lowell, which he kept facing him at all times, emotion welled to the surface. You didn’t get to come home, old friends. But the sacrifice was worth it. It must be worth the cost.

11

Events moved swiftly soon after the Unimak had made contact with command. Taylor had spent the better part of two hours transmitting logs and after-action reports while David prepared for the inevitable briefings. They’d sent a shuttle to conduct a test transit, and the crewmen aboard had suffered no ill effects, according to Dr. Tural. David had also informed Vog’t and Olgsian of the situation. Both were worried, but that wasn’t David’s primary concern.

Instead, he paced up and down his day cabin, waiting for the vidlink from CDF command. To his surprise and great relief, General MacIntosh had been promoted to Commander, Space Fleet, or COMSPACEFLT, as the position was known. At least a friend is coming to grill me rather than an unknown.

The tablet on David’s desk buzzed, and he quickly sat, pulled down his uniform, then made sure he looked presentable. After a final deep breath, he pressed the button to activate the device.

General Andrew MacIntosh’s face appeared on the screen, and for a moment, neither man spoke. “I have a hard time believing this is happening, son,” he finally ground out. “We all thought you were… lost.”

“You’re not the only one who’s shocked beyond belief, sir,” David replied. He smiled. “I had, well… It’s been a long time. And we’ve been occupied with our problems in Sextans B rather than trying to find a way home for a while now.”

“I’ve skimmed your reports. If I didn’t know you, I’d say it was either the script for a new season of War Patrol or the rantings of a madman.” MacIntosh let out a sigh. “But I know it’s all true.”

“Mind-boggling, sir.” David licked his lips. “I, uh, yeah. It’s been something else. How’s the situation back home? Captain Walker told me the peace was holding.”

MacIntosh snorted. “One way of putting it. League spooks almost killed President Spencer and me in Lawrence City last year and fomented a lot of unrest, but we beat them back. We stare each other down frequently. The most notable achievement is the creation of SATO.”

“What’s that?” David raised an eyebrow.

“The Sagittarius Arm Treaty Organization. It’s made up of the Coalition, the Saurian Empire, the Independent Systems Federation, and the Matrinid Combine.”

David’s jaw dropped. “You got the Matrinids on board?”

“It wasn’t easy, but yes. President Spencer gets most of the credit for wrangling that bunch.”

It didn’t take long for the initial shock to wear off and David to start running the possibilities through his mind. “Did you see the information about the nanite threat, sir?”

“Gray Goo scenario. Yes, that was one of the first things we picked out. One hell of a way to go out, with a massive hive of microscopic robots ripping everything apart from the subatomic level. I read the report. Can’t say I would’ve executed the technology transfer you did. There are some aggravated people over here, to say the least, about that stunt.”

“It was the only play we had, sir. I couldn’t just fly off and let them all die.”

“Yes. I would’ve taken a more orthodox approach.”

David grinned. “Well, I’m pretty unorthodox for an Orthodox Jew.”

“That, you are, General.” MacIntosh shook his head. “There’s going to be a lot of discussion in the coming weeks, and I’m sure you’ll be able to lay it all out in a way that makes sense while keeping confidence in your command abilities.”

“Thank you, sir.” David inclined his head.

“It will be nice to have the Lion of Judah home, where she belongs.”

“We’re not leaving Sextans B until the nanites are dealt with, sir.” The words shot out of David’s mouth, surprising even him. But after evaluating them for a few seconds, he realized it was what he felt and would adhere to.

“That’s not your choice to make,” MacIntosh snapped.

“I made a promise to these people, sir. We cannot abandon them now.”

“That’s for our commander-in-chief to decide.”

Almost instantly, it seemed as if the air in David’s day cabin grew cold. He stared at the camera in his tablet for several seconds before replying, “Yes, sir. I’m confident he’ll make the right decision.”

“Do I need to remind you it doesn’t matter what we think?”

“I won’t leave them to fend for themselves, sir.”

MacIntosh set his jaw. “General Cohen, I strongly suggest you remember that you swore an oath to the Terran Coalition first and foremost. That overrides anything else. We’ll see what the president says. Until then, you may stay on station and continue your planned activities. Prepare for a lot of questioning. Clear?”

“Crystal, sir.”

“Good. MacIntosh out.”

The vidlink went dark, and David sat back. That didn’t quite go the way I’d hoped. Then again, when he thought about it from the general’s perspective, he realized what he’d done so far had to be a shock. David hoped that once that wore off, the decision-makers back home would see the rightness of the Zeivlot and Zavlot cause. And send help.

Dr. Izmet Tural found it challenging to go through the daily machinations with the knowledge that his family was on the other side of a wormhole not more than five million kilometers from the Lion of Judah. Equally frustrating was the continued lack of direct communication links because of the location of the anomaly’s terminus in the Milky Way. He was more than willing to see the mission through, but above all, the desire to see his wife and daughter one more time was always at the forefront of his mind.

That made putting medical reports and casualty lists together for transmission back to CDF Medical and CDFPER all the more annoying. But it was far overdue, and he worked through the backlog along with his team of doctors and nurses.

A complaint about the military and its triplicate paperwork was running through his mind when Salena Bo’hai poked her head into his office. “Doctor, do you have a moment? Dr. Bhatt said you would welcome a respite from filling out forms.”

Dr. Tural chuckled. “Unless you have a new form of hemorrhagic fever.”

“I have no idea what that is, but it sounds bad.”

“Quite bad, I’m afraid.” He gestured to an open chair. “Please, join me.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Bo’hai replied as she sat.

“Now, what can I do for you?”

Bo’hai’s face flushed a deep red. “I… well. There are signs in how my body is behaving that suggest I may be…”

Tural stared at her for a moment, unsure as to why she was being so hesitant. “Whatever you need to tell me, unless it is a danger to the crew or the ship, I am bound to keep it confidential as your doctor.”

“I think I’m pregnant.”

Dr. Tural raised an eyebrow. “Ah. I see. If you were human, I would say these things are known to happen.”

“Yes, but I’m not.” Bo’hai forced a smile. “You said we would need gene therapy and possibly medical assistance to have a child. But… the signs are there for me. Would you perform a test to determine if I am?”

“Salena, you would be better served by a Zeivlot doctor. My knowledge of your reproductive system and internal medicine is limited at best.” He hated to turn her away, but what he said was more than accurate. While humans and Zeivlots might look alike on the outside, their bodies had different ways of working.

“Surely your instruments can perform this task.”

Tural recalled a joke Calvin deployed regularly. “Yes, and don’t call me Shirley.”

Bo’hai stared at him as if he’d grown a second head for a moment before it clicked, and she laughed. “Thank you, Doctor. I needed that.”

Tural took his all-in-one medical scanner out of the top drawer of his desk. There were many of the devices on the Lion, but that one had been a gift from his parents after he completed medical school. It was old enough that the newer nurses and corpsmen would crack jokes about the poor technology of the before times, but to Dr. Tural, it was one of his most prized possessions.

He ran the scanner over her chest and abdomen and double-checked the results before sitting down once more. “If I’m reading this properly for your species, you are, as we say, with child.” He smiled. “Congratulations.”

Bo’hai put her hand to her mouth and seemed about to cry.

Leaning forward, he put his hand on hers. “Forgive me, but is this not a cause for joy?”

“It should be,” Bo’hai replied. “But… with these nanites weeks away, will my child ever know its father?”

Dr. Tural pursed his lips. “Salena, I believe”—he held up his hands—“that Allah uses my hands to heal. And He uses your husband to protect. That is his job. He will do it. And on the other side, we will look back and wonder why we ever doubted that everything would work out.”

Being a doctor meant having a suitable bedside manner. But Dr. Tural wasn’t sure he believed his words. Oh, he knew that Allah used them all. But ever since his experience with the Netsim and the nightmares it had brought, he wasn’t sure they would get out of the mess alive. But he couldn’t say that, especially not to the pregnant wife of his commanding officer.

So he smiled at her. “You’re three, perhaps four weeks along. We will need to bring in a Zeivlot obstetrician.”

“A what?”

“A specialist for the care of the unborn and childbirth.”

“Oh,” Bo’hai replied with a genuine smile. “Our word for this roughly translates to what you call a midwife.”

Dr. Tural nodded. “Well, we need one of those to help.”

Bo’hai shook her head. “No, I only want you or other medical staff here.”

“Why?”

“Because not everyone will think that having a child with a male from another species is acceptable. I’ve already heard from a few family members that they disapprove of our union.”

Dr. Tural bit his lip. “I see. And you’re concerned you’ll unknowingly be put under the care of someone who isn’t looking out for you and your child’s best interests?”

“As David would say, you got it in one, Doctor.”

He chuckled. “This isn’t the best course.”

“But it is the one I feel is safest for me.” She patted her midsection. “Us.”

“Okay. I will do my best, in that case. How long is a Zeivlot gestation period?”

Bo’hai tilted her head. “I do not understand.”

“How long do women in your species carry the child before birth?”

“Oh! Eight months.”

Close enough to a human pregnancy that it shouldn’t pose a great risk of premature complications. Though he decided not to mention that particular point. “In that case, I’ll find a specialist from the Coalition who can assist us.”

“Do you think that…” Bo’hai let out a sigh. “Forgive me for even asking this, but is it possible that other humans will not… like this?” She gestured to her belly.

“I believe that small pockets of prejudice exist in almost any species. Humanity has done its best to stamp it out. The Terran Coalition isn’t perfect, but we have gotten to the point that we have a true colorblind society, and I think we’re primed to be a species-blind society too. Regardless, I give you my word before Allah that I will see to the medical health of you and your child and ensure that whoever comes into contact with you has solely your best interests at heart.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

“Come back weekly. Nurse Plumley will make the proper appointments. Human females need to ensure a diet rich in specific vitamins and minerals. I’ll send details to your tablet.”

Bo’hai nodded. “Whatever I need to do, I will.” She stood. “Thank you again.”

“A baby. I must admit, Salena, that gives me hope for some reason I can’t readily explain. A new life in the midst of what’s coming. Truly, Allah has blessed us.”

She flashed a smile before departing and conferring with the nurse for a few moments.

Dr. Tural hadn’t expected that sequence of events. That’s what I get for complaining about the dullness of my medical reports and patient files. With the begrudging acknowledgment that the work wouldn’t get done unless he put his nose back to the grindstone, he picked up the tablet and started scrolling.

12

Mishka Vog’t met yet again with her Zavlot counterpart, Chairman Olgsian. In the last one and a half rotations, they’d had more conversations than she suspected any two leaders from their respective worlds had since before the first cleansing. In a way, the talks had become second nature. Three rotations ago, both sides would’ve trumpeted a discussion as some massive step forward from the abyss. But it had become normal, customary, and expected.

Olgsian’s face came into focus, thanks to the vidlink communication technology provided by the humans. It allowed for point-to-point real-time discussions across vast distances, as long as the proper array of subspace receivers was in place. “Zupan. Good to see you.”

“Likewise, Chairman.” She offered what was a rare smile lately. “What is it General Cohen likes to say? Something about the elephant in the room?”

“The wormhole that has so magically opened up in our solar system, allowing the humans to leave anytime they want?”

Vog’t nodded. “That would be the one.”

“I’ve come to believe that the humans, at least the ones who have worked side by side with us these last three rotations, are honest and trustworthy creations of the Maker. Their conduct so far, even with this obvious way home, only reinforces that view.”

“Agreed, though when you’ve been in politics as long as I have, Olgsian, you doubt everyone. All the time.”

“Which is why I am glad to not be a professional politician.”

Vog’t chuckled. “They haven’t made one out of you yet?”

“No. I resist daily.”

Both of them laughed before Vog’t shook her head. “Have you given any thought to what we might do if the humans leave?”

“The same thing we will do if they don’t. Fight as hard as we can, until the very last. I might add that I hope even without our allies, our planets will keep the joint force and work together.”

“If it’s the last thing I do in this universe before the Maker takes me, the dream we have alive that Zeivlot and Zavlot can live in harmony will not die on my watch.”

“Nor mine.” Olgsian paused. “Then we’re agreed?”

“Yes. Fight to the death, with a small contingent sent elsewhere so that our species may survive.”

“Then that is all we can do. The rest is in the hands of the Maker. If the humans wish to leave, we cannot stop them. We’re in a uniquely powerless position. A question… Did you have your engineers review the design schematics and finished specimens of these Ajax-class destroyers?”

Vog’t tilted her head. What’s he getting at? Even with Coalition oversight, there had been plenty of opportunities to investigate the inner workings of the new technology, and she was sure both planets had taken it. “For what reason?”

Olgsian flashed a smirk. “For the same ones we would’ve.”

“Hidden components, spy systems, back doors—that sort of thing?”

“You said it, not I, Madam Zupan.”

“And who sounds like a politician now?” Vog’t replied dryly.

“Perhaps this office is getting to me.” Olgsian furrowed his brow. “We didn’t find anything.”

“Nor did our top people.”

“I was actually astonished when I read the report and would be willing to believe the Coalition tech is so advanced that we can’t understand it, except that while it’s certainly generative on the concepts we understand, it’s not so radical that our engineers and scientists don’t grasp how everything works. In the end, I accepted that the humans and their leader are what they appear to be.”

“We should be cautious to remember that General Cohen isn’t the only human leader. There is no telling what his government will do, and Maker help us if they decide it’s not worth the trouble. A part of me knows if I was in the position of this President Spencer… I’m not sure I would risk the lives of my people for another species in a different galaxy.”

“Didn’t the Maker’s Son tell us that there is no greater love than to willingly sacrifice yourself for another?”

Vog’t brushed a stray gray hair out of her face. “And who of us lives by those words in our political careers?”

“Ah, and therein lies the crux of our problem as a species, Zupan. We say one thing, and we end up doing another. It’s not limited to our political class, either. The humans have a wonderful word for this. They call it hypocrisy.”

Vog’t snorted. “Something tells me we’re not the only ones guilty of that particular sin.”

“So the only thing that matters is others are doing the same or worse?” Olgsian raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t we better than that?”

His words got to her. “Maybe. Perhaps it’s something we should work on collectively, if our species survive the next month.”

“Sounds like a good idea to me. And in that spirit, I wanted to offer something to you. We know the nanites will destroy Zeivlot if they reach her. But we do not know that they will destroy Zavlot. It’s possible, though I admit unlikely, that they’ll move on. However… any Zeivlot citizen who would like to relocate to our world is welcome. Think of us as a lifeboat.”

Vog’t blinked in surprise and ran what he’d said through her head just to be sure she’d heard it right. “Thank you. I will make sure my council of ministers hears this.”

“To think if we had spent the last ten thousand rotations advancing our culture and technology and enriching the links between our two planets, this might not be happening.”

Vog’t immediately grew melancholy. He’s right. There’s no one to blame but us for the awful, disgusting, and destructive cycle Zeivlot and Zavlot were locked into. She was quiet for a while then replied, “Not a day goes by that I don’t look back at the sum of my life and think I should’ve done more. All the decisions as zupan, I could’ve done better at.”

“Recriminations won’t get us anywhere. Only stepping forward together will make the mistakes of the past fade. The Maker gave us a second chance. Let’s use it.”

“I’d like to think we have been.”

“So far,” Olgsian agreed. “But we must be vigilant to ensure there is no change in our course. This is doubly true if the nanites are defeated. There cannot be any going back to the way things were.”

“Not on my watch, Olgsian.”

“Nor on mine.” He held up a tablet. “I’ve got some more mundane things to discuss, if you still have a few minutes.”

Vog’t cracked a small smile. “Oh, what’s a few minutes? It’s not like the end of the universe is upon us.”

Both leaders let out nervous giggles, and Vog’t was glad that so far, she’d been able to keep it together. Living with impending doom or, at the very least, the threat of it was something she didn’t relish. Perhaps in a month, we will know this feeling no more. Then she realized that one way or another, they wouldn’t. The question was whether they would be alive to feel anything at all.

David glanced around at the senior officers, happy to be in a meeting, which was mindboggling to him, since extended briefings and discussions were about his least-favorite thing in the galaxy. Yet with the breakneck pace they’d been subjected to, the gathering offered an opportunity to stop momentarily and listen. My mother used to say we have one mouth and two ears for a reason and to use them in that proportion.

“Two more Admari ships arrived an hour ago,” Ruth said. “That makes thirty-eight so far along with six Jinvaas Confederation cruisers ferried in by the CSV John Manners.”

“More than we had a few days ago,” Aibek hissed. “And with the addition of our fellow warriors from the Milky Way, enough to win.”

A number of eyes turned to David before Hammond asked, “Sir, SATO is sending help, right?”

“I’ve put the request in and will be briefing President Spencer and our senior political leaders later today.” It wasn’t a lie, but he knew it was skirting the truth. David could feel the reluctance to commit forces four and a half million light-years away. It came from virtually everyone he’d talked to back home so far.

Hanson put his hands on the table. “As long as they get started in the next few days, I’m pretty sure we can produce plenty of conversion kits for the neutron beams between our efforts and the industrial might of the Coalition. What could be difficult is the other races. I’m not smart enough to tell you how the Saurian or the Matrinid version differs from ours.”

“I’ll assist in sorting that out,” Hayworth interjected. “Since there’s a sign on my lab that reads Weapons Research Done Here now.”

A few scattered chuckles met the quip.

“Thank you, Doctor,” David replied. “Major Hanson, I understand you have something for us?”

Hanson gulped. “Ah, yes, sir. If I may?”

“You have the floor.” David flashed a smile. Even though they’d served together for over six years, the engineer still got nervous in front of a group.

“I’ve been wrestling with our strategy, sir. Dr. Hayworth has shared the results of his simulations, and frankly, even with more ships, I believe we’re missing something.”

David leaned back and pursed his lips. Not exactly the opening I expected. “And?”

“Rather than adopt a defensive strategy predicated on defeating the nanites in detail, I believe we should take the fight to them. And I think I’ve got a way to do it.”

“If we’ve missed a tactical insight, let’s hear it, Major.”

Hanson exhaled forcefully before picking up the holoprojector control. “We need to attack the central sphere that the rest of the swarm detaches from.”

“That’s suicide. Even if we got a thousand ships from the Milky Way, they don’t have the combined firepower to do anything except prick the outer hull of that thing.” Ruth crossed her arms.

Hanson glanced at Hayworth. “The doctor and I have done a lot of math that suggests that’s not the case. We believe the best course of action is to use our main particle beams to drill a hole to the sphere’s core, fly the Lion of Judah into it, and use a harmonic shield pulse to destroy them from the inside.”

When he finished, a silence so profound that a pin dropping would’ve sounded like a thunderclap filled the room.

“Did I hear you correctly? You want us to fly the Lion of Judah into what amounts to a nanite moon and somehow blow it up? How is that even possible? That sounds like the plot to War Patrol, not a serious proposal,” Ruth replied.

Before anyone else could speak, David held up a hand. “There’s a lot there, Major. Take it from the top. How exactly do you propose to use our primary particle weapon against the nanites? It’s not a neutron beam.”

“No, sir, but it focuses energy the same way. The doctor and I have run a myriad of simulations. We’re convinced it’ll work with some modifications.”

David turned to Hayworth. “Doctor?”

“The math checks out, and so do the simulations. I ran them with Mr. Markul.”

They’ve been working on this for a while. David was all about out-of-the-box thinking, but their plan was outside even his comfort zone. “Let’s assume you’re right. What makes you think we could fly through a hole created in the central hive?”

Hanson pursed his lips. “We’ve spent months going over every shred of scan data that Asperion sent back, sir. One of the things I realized is that the nanites freeze up after being hit with the weapon. It’s like they can’t morph around those areas. What none of us can know is how long that effect lasts.”

David’s face blanched. “That’s one heck of a gamble.”

“It may not be as big of one as it seems,” Hayworth said. “My theory is that the nanites’ hive, for lack of a better term, is as large as it is and kept where it is during a fight because that’s where most of their processing power is.”

“Like a computer?” David asked.

“In a way. Disrupt enough of that, and it ought to affect their ability to do anything.”

“Lots of ifs in there, Doctor.”

Hayworth crossed his arms. “It’s a better plan than a static defense line and hoping to shoot down enough nanite forms to either make them retreat or destroy them all. I remind all of you that the simulations say that can’t be done.”

“I’ve never been one to put an overwhelming amount of stock in simulations, Doctor,” David replied as he made a mental note to talk to Hayworth about proper protocol. Who am I kidding? After six years, he’s set in his ways. “Again, for the sake of discussion, let’s assume we’re able to get to the center of the object. What then?”

Hanson leaned forward. “We use the Lion’s shield generators to generate a pulse on the same frequency as the antinanite weapon… and dissolve the hive.”

David was impressed by how Hanson made it sound so easy. There was also a certain level of confidence projected by the engineer, which was usually there for matters pertaining to the repair of the Lion’s reactor but not combat. Perhaps he’s ready for bigger things once this is all over. But that was not the matter at hand. “And your opinion on this, Dr. Hayworth?”

“I helped design it. Since when does anything I do not work?”

“Why can’t we use a smaller vessel?” Ruth asked. “One that doesn’t have ten thousand soldiers and Marines on it?”

Hanson shook his head. “The math only works with an antimatter-reactor-level output. Trust me—I tried. One of the fleet carriers could do it.”

“Command wouldn’t risk one of those even if it would work on paper,” David replied. He blew out a breath and took in the room. Their faces were unreadable beyond the weariness and stress endemic to all of them.

“I would be remiss in my duties as executive officer of this vessel if I did not bring up our plans for what to do if the SATO alliance does not send further forces,” Aibek hissed.

Well, that’s one way to lay it all out there. “We will do our duty, regardless of the political situation back home. Major Hanson, is there any way to test your theories?” David was keen to get away from an explosive political discussion as fast as possible.

“We ran simulations, sir. They check out.”

“I want them redoubled and tested again from every possible angle,” David replied.

“Yes, sir.”

David glanced between Hanson and Hayworth. “In the meanwhile, put everything you’ve got together, and I’ll work on a formal battle plan in time for my briefing with President Spencer this afternoon.”

“On it, sir,” Hanson replied.

“Anything else, ladies and gentlemen? Saved rounds?” David counted out several seconds of silence before putting his hands together. “Dismissed.”

Everyone sprang to their feet and walked out of the conference room, presumably headed back to their tasks—except Aibek. He came to a stop and stared at David. “I would speak with you, sir.”

David gestured to the seat next to him. “Anytime. What’s on your mind?”

“I must know what you intend to do if we are ordered back to the Milky Way.”

“Stay and fight. Isn’t that obvious?”

Aibek hissed. “It is, but I have this feeling I cannot shake that our politicians do not want to get involved.”

“It’s an age-old debate within the Coalition. Should we be the galaxies’ policeman? We’ve been arguing about it since before the Saurian Wars. You know where I stand… the strong should defend the weak and the innocent.”

“As do I.”

David pursed his lips. “Whatever happens here, we’re going to do our duty. I promise you that.”

Aibek returned to his feet. “Thank you, old friend, for that encouragement.”

“Anytime.”

He’s got a lot weighing on him. David leaned back in his chair as the big Saurian ducked under the hatch and headed out. He knew Aibek was very sensitive to matters of honor, and his religious beliefs tied directly into it. As I understand it, Saurians believe they’ll end up in hell if they don’t protect innocents. Sadly, their leadership abused that impulse, especially in the decades and centuries past.

The weight of the universe itself seemed to balance on David’s shoulders. He didn’t know what would come from the discussions with Spencer, but it was impossible to miss the signs that most of the Coalition’s leadership wasn’t too interested in spilling blood for people in a different galaxy. If I could only make them see that we’re much alike. After a short prayer, he got back to work.

13

“And at what point did you think it was a good idea to admit two alien species to the Terran Coalition, General?” Justin asked. Though his tone was light, it held an undercurrent of tension. He’d reviewed the after-action reports and the logs of every warship commander in the Lion of Judah’s battlegroup. They all said pretty much the same thing, though a few COs apparently wished they’d focused more on getting home than helping others.

“When there was no other choice, sir,” David replied. His face came through in 3D, thanks to the holographic vidlink.

Justin was in the Situation Room, joined by General MacIntosh, his chief of staff, Richard Rollins, Senator Harold Kaufman, Speaker of the Assembly Dinorah Vasquez, Vice President Edwardo Fuentes, as well as a small legion of military and civilian staffers. They’d been at it for almost half an hour so far. Justin would’ve preferred a smaller group, but the congressional representatives had been most vocal about being included. When it came down to it, their votes would be required for whatever he wanted to do.

“I recognize adding the Zeivlots and Zavlots to the Coalition via military fiat is unorthodox, sir. But it was the only thing I could come up with upon reading the regulations in triplicate. First Lieutenant Cuellar, my JAG officer, hesitantly agreed.”

MacIntosh picked up a tablet from the table and waved it. “I read his report as well. Even describing him as being hesitant is stretching it, General Cohen.”

Justin glanced at MacIntosh out of the corner of his eye. He’s even crabbier than usual. “Half the Joint Chiefs and JAG Corps want to give you the Medal of Honor, General. The other half want to court-martial you.”

David chuckled. “I see things haven’t changed much since the Third Battle of Canaan, then. Though, sir, I would say that what the civilian government wants is most important here.”

“You recommend that SATO send between seven hundred and a thousand ships. I’ve looked at the general battle plan, which is a bit thin.” Justin spread his hands out on the mahogany table. “Having that many ships gone leaves us open to attack from the League or another hostile power.”

“Sir, with respect, I reviewed all updated intelligence reports to which I’m cleared before making that request. There is no credible evidence the League’s rebuilt its shipyards yet or started churning out warships.”

Justin pursed his lips. “Perhaps. But they’ve made a lot of noise, including trying to assassinate me last year. I never underestimate what the League is capable of, as its obvious they won’t go away until that infernal system of theirs is overthrown.”

“I didn’t realize that, sir.” David narrowed his eyes. “But I believe we can accomplish the objective with reduced losses if we bring enough firepower to bear. It’s a concept known as Lancaster’s Law—”

“Everyone at this table is familiar with that concept, General,” MacIntosh barked. “What’s your force loss projection with a thousand SATO vessels plus whatever ships you’ve gotten together in Sextans B?”

“Ten to twenty percent,” David replied, his voice unwavering. “Of which I believe the Zeivlot and Zavlots will take a higher proportion of losses.”

“Why?”

“Because as hard as we’re trying, they won’t be anywhere near as well trained as regular CDF forces. Everyone involved acknowledges that.”

Before anyone else could interject or Justin could even get out the words forming in his mind, Senator Kaufman slammed his fist on the table. Several tablets rattled, and coffee sloshed out of a mug. “Why should the blood of Terran Coalition soldiers be spilled to protect aliens in a different galaxy? How does that remotely serve the interests of our nation?”

All eyes went to the senator. More than a few nodded almost imperceptibly at him.

“The last time I checked, the oath we took said we would protect the Coalition against all enemies,” David said.

“And? If we evacuate your fleet from Sextans B and seal the wormhole, that protects us.”

David bit his lip. “The Zeivlots and Zavlots are our citizens too.”

Kaufman snorted a laugh. “That’s complete hogwash. Your actions wouldn’t and won’t survive court review. And don’t even start with exigent circumstances, General.”

“I’m sorry, Senator. I didn’t realize you’d joined the Peace Union in our absence.”

Justin had seen many an orator try to best Kaufman and had done so a few times himself. It was a difficult chore. He found it challenging to keep a smirk off his face as the senator’s features contorted with rage. Careful, David. Don’t resort to ad hominem attacks, even if it feels good.

“How dare you?” Kaufman roared. “I’ve fought those fanatics for decades and kept the credits flowing to the military any way I could so that you could defeat the League. I have no issue with applying military force, General Cohen. But I will never support sending our young men and women out to die for a species in another galaxy that we aren’t allied with and who bring nothing to the table for us! It’s just like the military not to understand the cost of war.”

A vein on David’s forehead pulsed, and he took in a deep breath.

Justin held his own, hoping he wouldn’t be baited by Kaufman into losing his cool and the argument in one fell swoop.

“Senator, unlike you, I served at the front for more than twenty years. From a newly minted private all the way up to flag rank. In that time, I’ve seen more friends than I can count die, lose limbs, suffer brain damage, and endure so much hell that some took their own lives. But worse than that, I’ve had to order the soldiers under my command into combat, knowing that some wouldn’t survive. Do not ever tell me that I don’t understand the cost of war. Because I know it far better than a politician who served four years on planetary duty and never once fired a shot in anger.”

I see I’m not the only person who does their homework. Before Kaufman could reply, Justin held up a hand. “There’s nothing to be served by continued vitriol. The question before us is what we do with these people. Senator Kaufman rightly points out that calling them Coalition citizens is tenuous at best. But there is a moral argument here that helping them is the right thing.”

David leaned forward. “’Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me. I lift my lamp beside the golden door.’” He paused. “Anyone remember that?”

“Aside from the poem inscribed on one of the monuments in Lawrence City,” Kaufman snapped, “it has little practical value in this discussion.”

“It’s who we are,” David replied. “Those words represent everything about the Terran Coalition. We were lost in the void and found a place to call home. We welcomed any who would join us as long as they adhered to our culture and values. These people, the Zeivlots and Zavlots, they share our beliefs, and we cannot turn away. We have a moral obligation to help.”

“Three years ago, they were trying to kill another—”

“And?” David interjected. “Humans did the same throughout our recorded history. If you haven’t been paying attention the last thirty years, we’re still doing it.”

Kaufman snarled, but before he could speak, Justin held up a hand again. “We’re wildly off topic here.”

“May I finish, Mr. President?” David asked.

“Quickly.”

“The Zeivlots and Zavlots have bettered themselves greatly in the last few years. More, perhaps, than humanity did when we had to confront our divisions and come together back on Earth—so that we could get to the stars and away from the World Society. They are good people, and we owe it to them to help.”

Kaufman’s face took on a smug smile. “You only say that, General, because of all the blood you spilled already to help them. All this is to assuage your conscience.”

Justin felt glad that four and a half million light-years separated the two men because, from the look on David’s face, he wanted to maim Kaufman. This is rapidly getting out of hand. “Harold, enough. Given the political party we’re both in, I would’ve thought you supported our military.”

“I do. As long as it’s doing what the Coalition Defense Force was formed for. You know, it’s right in the name. Defend the Terran Coalition.”

“A hundred eleven names, Senator,” David replied. “That’s how many soldiers, pilots, and Marines I’ve lost in the last three years. Most to combat, some to accidents, one to suicide. I’ve written every family and thank God that those letters finally went through. And I will carry their deaths with me until I die myself, as I carry the loss of every single person under my command. If morality means nothing to you, then consider this. If the nanites are able to take control of the obelisk and gain its technology, they will come here. Maybe not next year, the year after, or even in our lifetimes. But they will come.”

“There’s no proof of that anywhere. And even if it’s true, our technology will be advanced enough to deal with them by then.”

Justin suppressed a groan. Dealing with Kaufman was like pulling teeth. I need to talk to Rollins about getting that blowhard replaced. The only reason he’s there is seniority, and his attitude is detrimental to the Coalition. “Okay. General Cohen has made his case. We’re going to break and discuss among the political entities of the Coalition before I make a decision. Thank you for all this, David. And whatever is decided, I want you to know I respect your choices. I would probably have done something similar. Regardless of what anyone else says.” He glanced at Kaufman. “Your actions were consistent with the finest traditions of the Coalition Defense Force.”

“Thank you, Mr. President.”

“We’ll talk soon. Canaan out.”

“Lion of Judah out.”

The vidlink went dark, and the holoprojector disappeared back into the ceiling. Several people started speaking at once before Kaufman raised his voice above the rest. “What options do we have for collapsing the wormhole?”

“Our top people are working on that, Senator,” MacIntosh replied. “One promising theory is to use high-yield fusion warheads on the obelisk in our galaxy. The planet is uninhabited, so there’s no moral quandary to deal with.”

Justin pursed his lips. “I want to consult with SATO and see what they’re thinking. Have Ambassador Flanagan make that her top priority.”

“And what, pray tell, are we going to do?” Kaufman replied.

“I haven’t decided yet.” Justin flashed a thin smile. “That’s my decision, in case you don’t remember, Senator.”

Kaufman didn’t reply beyond shooting daggers in a stare.

“Let’s get back to work, people. I expect updates later this afternoon.” At that moment, Justin had no idea what he would do.

14

CSV Lion of Judah

Zeivlot Orbit—High Loop Eight

23 August 2466

The walk back to David’s quarters was one of the longest he’d ever taken, not because of the length, but the weight of the universe seemed to press him further into the deck plate with each step. The call with President Spencer hadn’t gone the way he’d hoped. Most of the cabinet, senior military leaders, and the Senate majority leader were dead set against intervention in Sextans B. When looking at it through a pragmatic lens, he knew that even a man such as the president would think twice about committing hundreds of thousands of CDF soldiers and their allies to a cause in a distant galaxy. Yet from his perspective, there was no other way. Either we stand for what’s right, or we don’t, and that’s unacceptable. With every fiber of his being, David knew they had to defeat the nanites.

He’d spent most of the afternoon sorting personnel reports and busied himself with endless piles of paperwork from the shakedown cruises and final readiness checkouts from the hundreds of vessels they’d constructed. At nearly twenty-three hundred hours, David finally pushed open the hatch open to his and Bo’hai’s stateroom.

“Hello, husband,” she said brightly.

“I wasn’t expecting you to still be up,” David replied. He forced a small smile to his lips, though if he was being entirely truthful, he’d hoped she wouldn’t be. That way, I wouldn’t have to tell her about the meeting until tomorrow.

Bo’hai patted the cushion next to her on the couch. “Sit with me.”

David lowered his weary frame to the seat next to her. “You don’t have to twist my arm.”

She put her head on his shoulder. “RUMINT says the discussions today didn’t go well.”

“I forget how small a ship this is.” He shook his head. “No, they didn’t. While a decision wasn’t reached, it was easy to read the room.”

“What will you do if they say to return to your home?”

David tilted his head and made a face. “If it’s given, that’s an order I won’t be obeying.”

“You say that with such… conviction.”

“All a man has in life is his word. When I give it before others and HaShem, going back on an oath would violate everything I am. There is no turning aside. No matter what happens, the Lion of Judah stays on station, and we will defend this solar system. Period.”

Bo’hai kissed him then scooted over a little. “Your dinner is in the food warmer.”

“Oh, thank you, dear, but I already ate.”

She stuck her lip out in a pout. “You won’t eat what I made you?”

David’s cheeks heated, and he grinned sheepishly. “Well, I’ll have a snack and save the rest for tomorrow.”

“Good.”

He walked across the room to the small kitchenette and popped open the kosher food preparation device, only to find a single bun on its heating unit. “I thought you said dinner was in here,” David said as he picked up the piece of bread and stared at it.

Bo’hai smiled at him. “Think on it for a moment.”

Utterly bewildered, David tilted his head. A bun in the warmer. What does that mean? As he pondered further, a thought came to him. No, that can’t be. “Are you—”

“Pregnant?”

“You… We’re…”

Bo’hai walked over to him and touched his face. “Yes.”

Waves of different emotions washed over David. At first, he was astounded. Once that had faded, immense joy came in its wake. He put his arms around her and held on for some time. “How… I…”

“These things are known to happen.”

David licked his lips, trying to find the right words. “Yes, I know. I’m so happy. I just didn’t think it would be easy for us. Given our different species.”

“Dr. Tural told me that while a successful coupling without medical intervention was unlikely, it wasn’t impossible, given my condition. I’m thankful this brings you joy. I had concern that perhaps it wouldn’t.”

David cupped her face in his hands and tilted it upward. “Salena, nothing could bring me more joy.” He kissed her before resuming the embrace. “You must’ve had a crazy afternoon, finding out you’re expecting then waiting for me.”

“I knew four days ago.”

“Why—”

“Because I didn’t want you to stay here because of me,” Bo’hai whispered.

David held her even tighter. “What have I ever done to give you the impression I’d leave the moment we could, Salena?”

“Nothing. But I couldn’t have that weigh on me. You had to reach the conclusion you did on your own. From your heart.”

He gestured to the couch. “Why don’t we sit down?”

Bo’hai nodded, and a few moments later, they sat together and held hands.

“You have to do something for me,” David said after a period of silence.

“If it is within my power, I will.”

“You must depart the Lion of Judah before we enter battle.” He touched her belly gently. “I would’ve insisted on that anyway, but having a second life in you makes it all the more imperative.”

Bo’hai gripped his hand ever tighter, and tears came to her eyes. “What of you?”

“I will do my duty.”

“Then where will we go?” As Bo’hai spoke, she used her other hand to touch her abdomen.

“Whatever President Spencer decides, I know the Terran Coalition will accept as many refugees as possible. I’ll see that you’re on a transport and escorted by a detachment of Marines. Jews value family. My mother will take you in and help you adjust to life in the Milky Way.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” David wrapped his arms around her. “Somehow, we’ll get through this and, on the other side, build a life for ourselves and our child.”

“Children.” Bo’hai beamed. “We’re not stopping with one.”

“Yeah, my mother will love you. She’s been after me about grandkids for a decade now.”

Bo’hai giggled. “I look forward to meeting her.”

“We’d better get some rest, dear. I’m up at oh dark thirty whether I like it or not.”

“Yes, I must rise early too.” She stood. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

As Bo’hai walked away, David felt even more weight descend on his shoulders. I always vowed I wouldn’t put my wife and children in the situation I grew up in. Now, there’s an excellent chance I will. He decided he couldn’t dwell on it. The only thing he could do was work as hard as possible to ensure the nanites were defeated, and if it was HaShem’s will, he would survive and return to Bo’hai. All other concerns are secondary.

15

The White House

Canaan

26 August 2466

Justin spent a great deal of his time in the White House Situation Room, at least two hours a day. For one, the daily presidential intelligence briefing happened there along with a read-ahead he usually took in while having his morning coffee. And whenever there was an emergency, the number of hours spent in the room went up.

What wasn’t normal was the specific audience attending that day, which included the vice president, Edwardo Fuentes, Secretary of Defense Snow, Senator Kaufman, and the Speaker of the Assembly. There were so many generals and colonels along with civilian aides that a dozen people were left standing.

Following a briefing conducted primarily by General MacIntosh that spelled out the risks of intervention in a way that Justin felt was leading the witness, the debate had been lively and continued unabated.

“We must convince SATO of the legitimacy of Zeivlot’s and Zavlot’s membership in the Terran Coalition,” Vasquez said. She’d been a political ally of Justin’s for more than a decade and one of the longest-serving Assembly speakers, brought into power by his center-right coalition almost twelve years before. Though she’d lost the speakership for two years after the previous midterms, she was back in power.

“Why?” Kaufman replied angrily. “There is absolutely no logical, pragmatic, or moral reason why Terran blood should be spilled for aliens in a galaxy four-point-four million light-years from here. This is madness.”

Vasquez stared at him. “What is wrong with you? Stopping atrocities and crimes against humanity has been the hallmark of Coalition foreign policy for two hundred years.”

“And after thirty years of war against the League, with millions of casualties, it’s time to look after our interests first. At least SATO strengthens our defense—expanding the Coalition into another galaxy only weakens us.”

“Mr. President, I believe the votes are there to authorize an intervention,” Vasquez said, turning her piercing gaze to Justin.

“Not in the Senate, there aren’t,” Kaufman shot back.

“Since no one else has said this, I will,” a two-star general in the back of the room called out. “There’s a pragmatic reason to involve ourselves—namely, technology beyond our wildest dreams. Forget being the preeminent power in the Sagittarius Arm. If humanity unlocks the secrets of that obelisk, we’ll be a contender for galactic dominance. That ought to matter here.”

Several people glanced at him, but no one replied.

“The larger point, sir, is that our fleet is just getting back on its feet from the horrendous losses of the Third Battle of Canaan,” a three-star combatant commander interjected. “That, coupled with our ongoing efforts to modernize the fleet carriers and heavy cruisers with antimatter reactors and finish more purpose-built antimatter fleet cruisers… the time to go all in on defending against a threat as grave as a gray-goo end-of-the-world scenario is not now.”

“Why not?” Justin asked as he leaned forward. “If not now, when, and if not by us, then by whom?”

“Platitudes from a politician who’s been dead for four centuries aren’t useful,” Kaufman remarked.

“Those words were first spoken by a rabbi named Hillel almost twenty-five hundred years ago, Harold. And they’re a lot more than platitudes.”

Kaufman threw up his hands. “They won’t stop a technological nightmare from killing tens of thousands of our soldiers and greatly reducing our ability to defend the Coalition, and that’s if we even win. Which, according to what I was briefed with, is anything but certain!”

“The senator and I have little in common.” Snow had said little so far. All eyes turned to the secretary of defense as she continued, “But he’s got a reasonable point. We are just coming out of the worst war our nation has experienced… perhaps the worst the entire Milky Way galaxy has seen. If this was one human planet doing something horrible to another human or alien world, that’d be a different conversation. If it were facing down aggression from a species here at home, that, too, would leave me with another answer. But this is two alien species that up until three years ago wanted to wipe each other out of the universe, in a galaxy four and a half million light-years from here. I cannot support sending our soldiers out to die for them.”

Justin had drifted toward wanting to intervene. Something on his heart said it was the right thing to do. “If we faced a similar situation, wouldn’t we hope our allies would do the same for us?”

“And do you think they would?” Kaufman sneered. “If it hadn’t been for a third of the Saurian fleet mutinying to come to our aid a few years ago, we’d be having this conversation in Russian, Chinese, or French.”

“Our allies did the right thing in the end,” Justin replied. He turned to Martha Flanagan, the Coalition ambassador to SATO. “What’s the temperature on the security council?”

“Prime Minister Ascaro has made it clear she’d back military intervention by the alliance. The Saurian Empire… still has considerable concerns about our follow-through. Chief Minister Sherazi, in particular, isn’t willing to spill the blood of his warriors. And the Matrinid won’t do anything unless everyone else is in agreement.”

Justin sighed. “In other words, we’ve got a long way to go to get SATO fully on board.”

“Yes, sir. Sherazi has an extremely long memory.”

“Andrew, what are our odds of success with the bulk of the available CDF space force and the ISF?

MacIntosh’s face turned so dark a red that it appeared as if he might be having a heart attack. “With respect, Mr. President, we cannot send our entire space fleet to Sextans B, regardless of the possibility of success. It would leave us open to League invasion, and we’d be putting our fate into the hands of a newly formed and still not-quite-tested alliance. That is against your oath of office as well as mine.”

Fuentes, who had kept silent, leaned forward. “Justin, we’ve done this for three years now. You know I have a great deal of respect for you, both as a man and a leader. But I think you’re letting your heart go too far. Yes, we all want to help the Zeivlots and Zavlots. They’re in an awful predicament. But I think we have to accept that the Terran Coalition can’t save the day. Maybe if SATO was willing to join us…”

“Martha, have you spoken directly to your Saurian counterpart?” Justin asked.

“Yes, sir. He feels Sherazi is unmovable.”

Justin let his head fall back against his chair. We should help them. Yet without SATO, his vice president was right: there was no way they could risk the safety of the Coalition to a renewed League assault. “What humanitarian options do we have?”

Several advisors glanced at one another, seeming to realize that the conversation had taken a decided turn.

“We believe we can evacuate a sizable portion of both planets’ populations to the Milky Way before destroying the wormhole. Our top people have a plan on how to make that happen, sir.” MacIntosh spread his hands out on the table. “I recognize that’s not your preferred solution, but it is the one I recommend, as do the entirety of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.”

Something about the moment told Justin that in the days to come, he would look back on it and curse himself. But there was no other way he could see. Above all, the Coalition must be protected.

“It’s the right call, Mr. President,” Richard Rollins cut in.

Justin pursed his lips. “Right. Okay. Let’s get on with it. Get those people movers going. Pull out the Exodus fleet. Everything we’ve got.”

“Yes, sir,” MacIntosh replied.

“And get me a vidlink with General Cohen for one hour from now.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. I’ll see you all in an hour.”

16

CSV Lion of Judah

Zeivlot Orbit—High Loop Eight

29 August 2466

David had taken a longer first watch, feeling a need to be out of his day cabin. The walls had started to close in. If we survive the next few weeks, perhaps I’ll take some shore leave. I owe that to Salena. A two-week sojourn in a mountain retreat sounds like a beautiful way to prepare for welcoming our child to the universe.

“I am surprised you have stayed for so long today,” Aibek said as they orbited the gleaming green-blue orb below.

“Felt like I was going nuts,” David replied. “We all need shore leave.”

“Once the enemy has been defeated.” Aibek grinned.

“Amen to that.”

“No word still?”

David shook his head. “None. Anything from the feelers you put out?”

“Not as of this morning.”

“We’re not good at waiting.”

“No Saurian is. Perhaps you have some of our blood running through your veins, General.”

“Flash traffic, gold-channel vidlink override, sir,” Taylor interjected. “It’s got the presidential code attached.”

“Speaking of waiting.” David stood. “I’ll be in my day cabin. Lieutenant, give me fifteen seconds, then pipe it to my tablet.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

“Colonel Aibek has the conn,” David called over his shoulder as he quickly exited the bridge.

Both Marine sentries came to attention as he crossed the few steps to the day cabin. David pushed the hatch in and sat down after straightening his uniform. Not a moment too soon, as the tablet came to life.

Careful to keep ramrod-straight posture, he focused on the camera. The vidlink showed an image of the Situation Room, President Justin Spencer, Vice President Fuentes, General MacIntosh, and a whole lot of other military officers and civilians. David recognized a few from the previous discussion but not all.

“General Cohen, I hope our call didn’t catch you at a bad time.”

“Any time is good when the commander-in-chief is calling, sir.”

Justin spread his hands out on the table as the feed glitched momentarily. “I’ll cut right to the chase. First, it was a painful decision. One that was grueling and complex. No one at this table wants to turn away from the calamity headed for Zeivlot and Zavlot, but our first responsibility is to the citizens of the Terran Coalition and our SATO allies. Committing a large percentage of our combined forces, even if the Saurians would be willing—which they aren’t—would leave us open to attack by the League of Sol or other hostile aliens.”

No one spoke for a moment.

Finally, Fuentes filled the silence. “Involving ourselves in the affairs of another galaxy simply isn’t intelligent with the geopolitical situation here, General.”

David had suspected that would be the answer, even though he hated to even consider the outcome. Still, it hurt to the core of his being. From there, anger welled up. “It’s a shame the Zeivlots or Zavlots don’t have large deposits of lithium on their respective planets. Or proven reserves of helium-3 or some other material we need.”

Before Justin or Fuentes could interject, MacIntosh leaned forward and pointed toward the camera. “You’re out of line, General Cohen. The military does not set policy. We carry it out. I’ve told you that a dozen times.”

Justin held up a hand. “I respect that David feels strongly. He has a right to, as the Lion of Judah has been through some tough times. We all understand that—”

“Mr. President, that’s lip service. There are fourteen billion people about to die if we don’t step up.”

“You’ve made them a fleet of ships, and from what I understand, more alien forces are coming to help,” Fuentes said. “Can’t they do the job?”

David shrugged. “Frankly, I put our odds at less than ten percent before the possibility of large-scale reinforcements from SATO became available. These people will give it their all… and they will die. The nanites know where this obelisk is because of us. We must help them.”

“I think you’re wrong on one point, General Cohen. It wasn’t because of us,” Snow said as she gestured to the others. “It was your hubris. I’ve read your logs and after-action reports. It’s clear you repeatedly intervened in the affairs of nonhuman governments and civilizations. That’s not on the Terran Coalition to clean up.”

“With respect, Madame Secretary, I’ve spent the last two years cleaning this up as best I know how,” David replied. His cheeks heated.

“You cannot expect an alliance dedicated to defending the Sagittarius Arm of our galaxy to send half its combat force to another galaxy. It’s simply not logical.”

“Was it logical for the Saurian Empire to enter the war on our behalf? Was it logical for us to intervene in human-controlled worlds that weren’t part of the Terran Coalition when their leaders committed unspeakable crimes against their citizens?” David stared at Justin. “I know you backed those actions, Mr. President. This is no different.”

“It’s a question of size.”

“Right and wrong don’t care about the size of the ask, only that we do it.” David slapped the CDF insignia on his uniform. “Or have we all forgotten the meaning of those symbols we wear or the words we supposedly live by? Because I don’t see much courage, commitment, or faith on this vidlink.”

“That’s enough, General,” Justin snapped. “I want to help these people. If I’m being frank, the allure of technology thousands of years ahead of us should justify the cost. But that’s not my focus or that of our allies. We’ve suffered for thirty years at the hands of the League. We must rebuild and heal.”

“And what if the nanites follow us here?”

“We’re going to destroy the obelisk powering the wormhole in the Milky Way.”

David’s eyes widened. “You don’t even know if that will work. Hayworth says it won’t.”

“Our top people say it will. If it doesn’t, we’ll collapse the wormhole with a compressed polaron beam.”

“Then we’re doing nothing except sealing them in for their fate?” David practically shouted.

“If you’d have let me finish, General, I would’ve explained we’re going to evacuate as many as possible.”

“How many?”

“If we use the Exodus fleet people movers… best guess is three, maybe four billion.”

“Out of fourteen.”

“It’s better than nothing, and it’ll still bankrupt the Coalition,” Snow interjected.

David blinked. He had trouble processing what he was hearing. On one hand, it made sense from a political perspective. But it didn’t from a moral one. And more than anything, the Terran Coalition traded on its moral high ground. We do what’s right, no matter the cost.

“You will immediately prepare the Lion of Judah and her escorts to return to the Milky Way, General,” MacIntosh said after a few moments. “Other assets—”

“No,” Justin interjected.

“But, sir—”

“General Cohen wouldn’t obey that order if it was given,” Justin said quietly. “And I probably wouldn’t either if I were in his shoes.”

“The fleet he commands isn’t his. It’s Coalition property,” Snow interjected.

MacIntosh didn’t speak, but his face had turned bright red, his eyes narrowed, and he was gritting his teeth so hard that they could snap off.

“Which, until a few days ago, we thought was lost. General Cohen, the one order I will give you is that only volunteers will be used for the defense.”

“That was always the plan, Mr. President,” David replied icily.

“Can I trust that you will facilitate the evacuation with Zupan Vog’t and Chairman Olgsian?”

“Of course, sir.”

Justin glanced between those at the table. “Then we have nothing more to discuss. I wish you success and commend your bravery, General Cohen.”

David forced himself not to give in to the desire to hurl another barrage of invective through the vidlink. “Thank you, sir.”

“Godspeed and good luck.” The vidlink blinked off.

Sitting in silence, David stared at the black screen. Suspecting something was going to happen and having it confirmed were two very different things. Since hearing about the SATO alliance and its treaty terms, he’d believed everyone involved would do the right thing. One could say I’m naive. If Fuentes had been the president, it wouldn’t have fazed him to hear that the Coalition wouldn’t be coming to help.

But from Justin Spencer—the hero of the attack on Sol? Hearing the words come from him was one of the bitterest pills David had ever swallowed. Anger filled him. Some of it was directed toward himself. Even though they hadn’t directly caused the nanite threat, they were still culpable. Most, however, was squarely pointed toward the Coalition’s military and civilian leadership.

Recriminations and second-guessing came to the fore before David finally gave in, picked up his tablet, and threw it across the room. As it rattled on the deck, he sent everything else on the desk crashing down with a sweep of his arm.

David then gave a bellow of rage before dropping back into his chair.

A minute later, the hatch swung open, and Aibek strode in. He took in the destroyed nature of David’s day cabin before shutting the alloy door with a clang. “Are you okay, sir?”

“No.”

“The noise carried to the bridge.”

David gritted his teeth. “That wasn’t meant for anyone to hear. SATO, even with all its power and might, won’t be sending reinforcements. Spencer will lend evacuation vessels from the Exodus fleet, but that’s it. We’re on our own.”

“They did not order us to return?”

“General MacIntosh tried, but the president knew I would decline to obey.” David shook his head. “Before we got here, the idea of outright refusing a lawful order was so outside of what I would do as a CDF officer… Sure, we bent the rules a few times, but…”

Aibek picked up a plaque from one of the chairs and returned it to the desk. It had a hand grenade mounted to it with a message that read “Complaint department. Please take a number.” After sitting, he said, “The last three years here have changed all of us, including me. If you abandoned these people, I would think far less of you as a warrior.”

David pursed his lips. “We can’t. I can’t. Yet with our available force, the odds are long.”

“But not impossible.” Aibek gave him a Saurian grin, showing off both rows of incisors. “We have an axiom that goes, ‘Unless the combat is hopeless, the cause is not just.’”

“Humans have similar sentiments,” David replied. “But I’ve always rejected them. After all, humans like to win, and I’m no different.”

“What are your orders?”

David lowered his head before meeting the big Saurian’s eyes. “We stay the course. Along with anyone from our fleet who volunteers to join the final defense.”

Aibek nodded. “Then my fate will be yours, my friend. Together, we will fight this battle, and whatever happens is the will of the Prophet.”

David stood and held out his arms, and Aibek grasped them in a traditional Saurian salute.

“Get the senior officers and our battlegroup commanders prepped for a briefing in two hours. I’ll explain the situation, and we’ll move forward.”

“Yes, sir,” Aibek replied as he dropped his hands.

“Dismissed. And, Talgat… thank you.”

“It is my honor.”

As the Saurian disappeared through the hatch, David started picking up all the items that had fallen to the deck. Well, back to the original plan. Somehow fight our way through an absurd number of nanites and carry out Hanson’s stratagem. God help us all.

17

The White House

Canaan

29 August 2466

As the holoprojector dimmed, overwhelming shame washed over Justin. He wanted to be somewhere, anywhere but the Situation Room. In his heart, he knew they should send military forces to help the Zeivlots and Zavlots. But his mind said the safer play for the Coalition was to do as his advisors had suggested: rescue as many innocents as possible before destroying the wormhole-generating technology.

“Sir, you made the right call,” MacIntosh said, breaking through his thoughts.

“Quite right,” Rollins added. “The last thing we need is another major war.”

Justin stood. “I… I’ll be in the Oval. Give me fifteen minutes while I work on some remarks.”

“You have speechwriters for a reason, Mr. President,” Rollins replied as he and the others rose. “Let me get some drafts for—”

“No. This is something I need to do, and I want some time alone to do it. Fifteen minutes, ladies and gentlemen.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Thank you, everyone,” Justin said as he turned.

He marched through the halls of the White House, trailed by his protection detail. The walls seemed to close in, and Justin felt more alone than he had in a long time. Once he reached the Oval Office, the administrative assistant who oversaw access to the room closed the door behind him.

Justin strode wistfully behind the Resolute Desk before taking a seat. He stared at the holoimage of him, Feldstein, Adeoye, and Mateus, wondering if he’d truly made the right call. They weren’t afraid to die. Not when the cause was just. But is this one? Ultimately, the answer was no. Where is the line? The Terran Coalition couldn’t be the galaxies’ policeman. Or can it? Justin felt wildly conflicted.

The door swung open, and a young man wearing the simple livery of a steward walked in with a silver serving tray. On top of it were a mug and a pot of piping-hot coffee. He made his way to the desk and set the cup on a silver coaster before expertly pouring the liquid without spilling a drop. “Your coffee, sir.”

Justin raised his eyebrows and stood. “I didn’t call for any, but thank you.” On the desk was a button that each President had programmed for the beverage they enjoyed most. For Justin, it was CDF coffee. Most derided the brew as akin to battery acid, but he enjoyed it.

“You don’t recognize me, do you?”

Justin shook his head as an uneasy feeling came over him. “I’m afraid not. I try to never forget a face, but… my apologies.”

The young man set down the serving tray. One moment, he was attired as a waiter. The next, he wore a standard-issue CDF navy-blue coverall uniform. The emblem for the logistical corps sat on his right shoulder.

Justin had a hard time processing what had happened. He blinked, thinking that perhaps his eyes were playing tricks on him. How is that possible? Justin tried to reach for the panic button under his desk only to find his hand wouldn’t move. Then his eyes went to the name patch on the man’s uniform. “Waters.”

“How… You… This can’t be,” Justin said, surprised to find his vocal cords worked, but his hand still wouldn’t move. “I remember you… on the Zvika Greengold. There’s no way you haven’t aged a day.” Who is this man? An alien? Some sort of stealth masking tech? A League agent?

Waters smiled. “Yes, it has been thirty years—for you. And no, I’m not an alien, nor am I using technology to mask my appearance, and I’m most certainly not a League of Sol External Security agent.”

“You read my mind.” Justin blinked. “That’s not possible.”

“All things are possible to him who believes.”

Justin recognized the verse from the Gospel of Mark. “Are you an angel?”

“No. They work for me.” Waters gestured to the two couches in front of the Resolute Desk. “Come. Sit with me. I want to have a discussion with you.”

“You’re… God?” Justin’s knees went weak and knocked together.

Water nodded. “I am who I am.”

Justin slowly moved to the couch. He didn’t sit down as much as he collapsed backward and happened to land correctly without tipping the sofa over.

“It’s okay. Take a moment to collect yourself,” Waters said as he sat across from him. “This is one of the many forms I take when interacting directly with My creation. I’ve found it quite useful for some time now.”

“You’re here because of the situation in Sextans B.”

“That’s a good guess.” Waters smiled. “More accurately, I’ve come to talk with you because you decided to exercise the free will I gave you to screw up royally.”

Justin’s face heated as his heart pounded.

“I told you all those years ago that you had to be cautious about letting the power of the office go to your head. For the most part, you’ve done okay.” Waters brought up a hand. “But this? No.”

“But I’ve always tried to do the right things. I know I’ve fallen short, but You know I pray and seek Your guidance.”

“And what do you think the shame you felt after that decision was, hm? Humans and most other species have My law written on their hearts. You know right from wrong, and you knew that choice was incorrect. Still, you did it despite My still, small voice telling you not to.”

Justin stared at the floor.

“The Terran Coalition, for all its power and might, isn’t yours. Nor is it any other politician’s or political body’s to do with as they please. All of what you have is Mine. I set you as My steward. You forgot that, Justin.”

“Please, forgive me. I should’ve done better.” He thought back to the feeling he’d had at the end of the meeting. I knew.

“You’re already forgiven through the blood of My son. That’s not the point of this conversation, Justin. I’m here to correct you.”

“To fix this. To intervene.”

“Yes. What I’m doing here is a bit outside of how I usually operate. But if the SATO alliance doesn’t send help, my entire Creation will be destroyed.”

Justin searched for words. “You mean the universe?”

Waters nodded. “Yes. The nanites will never stop until they’ve eradicated everything.”

“Why not just… make them disappear?”

“Because I prefer to use my Creation to make such changes once you’ve reached a certain point in your technological progression. Humanity has more than hit that level. And it’s my plan.”

“But… why?”

“Do you believe in miracles?”

“Of course.”

“But can you prove they happen without a shadow of scientific doubt?”

It took him a few moments to think. “I suppose not.”

“When I made a bush burn without consuming it, there was no one around to film the miracle and put it up on the latest holoshow or share it across every social media network in the Terran Coalition. Now, think of what would happen if I were to perform obvious miracles. It would no longer be a matter of faith. Everyone would know they were real, and I am real.”

“I don’t see the harm in that,” Justin replied.

“You’re not thinking about the larger ramifications. Some would fight wars in My name, attempting to force others to convert to their specific beliefs.”

“Not that it hasn’t happened before in our history.”

“Too many times. And not just humans.” Waters frowned. “In this case, I choose to use you to solve this problem.”

Did God just tell me He wants me to solve this problem? Justin’s jaw dropped. “I can bring the CDF to the fight. But the others… they’ll only come if the Saurians do.”

Waters smiled. “I have given you every skill needed to accomplish this task. You have been, in effect, training your entire life. I suggest relying on Me rather than yourself. That is yet another problem most humans have, and you’re no exception.”

“I… Yes, Lord. I will do my best and remember that I am but a humble servant. With You, anything is possible.”

“That’s better.” Waters stood. “Lead righteously, and enough will follow. Humans need leadership, and you will continue to provide it. I will always be with you, Justin. A good man is never alone.”

Tears came to Justin’s eyes. As he was about to open his mouth, Waters disappeared. One moment he was there. The next, there was no trace he’d ever been in the room. Have I gone insane? Justin leaned back on the couch before turning to look at his desk. The coffee mug, pitcher, and silver tray were there and still steaming. He stood and walked over to press the call button.

The door swung open a moment later, and the admin assistant stuck her nose in. “Yes, Mr. President?”

“The steward who brought the coffee… did you recognize him?”

“No one’s come by, Mr. President.” She stared at him as if he’d grown a second head.

“Ah. Of course. Thank you.”

She shut the door with a confused expression on her face.

Probably thinks I’ve gone nuts. Maybe I have. Justin hefted the coffee mug. Its warmth radiated through his hand. No. That happened. I know it did.

He triggered the intercom. “Send Richard in, please.”

It didn’t take long for the door to swing open again, and Rollins entered. “Yes, sir? Got those notes ready for the team?”

“No.” Justin crossed his arms. “Change of plans. I want you to gather the vice president, SecDef, General MacIntosh, and the leaders of Sauria, the Matrinid Combine, and the Independent Systems Federation. They can attend via vidlink. Within the hour.”

Rollins blinked in surprise. “Sir, how am I supposed to get the leaders of half the nations in our sector of space to clear their schedules on an hour’s notice?”

“I’m invoking Article Five of the SATO treaty.”

“That’s not—”

“It’s what we’re doing now. Get to it, Richard.”

Bewildered, Rollins slowly nodded and turned to go.

Justin felt like he was finally back on the right path. He returned to his seat behind the Resolute Desk and got back to work.

18

The Situation Room was yet again packed with military personnel and civilian advisors, most of whom wore expressions of utter shock. Rollins sat to Justin’s left and kept stealing glances at General MacIntosh. Both had loudly protested Justin’s decision to invoke Article Five of the SATO treaty.

Prime Minister Paulina Ascaro from Lusitania and the current leader of the Independent System Federation advisory council were connected via vidlink, as were Chief Minister Sherazi of the Saurian Empire and Senior Custodian Igamaya of the Matrinid Combine.

Justin was impressed that his people had pulled the meeting together in an hour.

Predictably, the other leaders had resisted as he made the case for intervention.

Ascaro stared at them through the holoprojector. “I made it clear when Ambassador Flanagan told us you were considering the request for help from the Sextans B aliens that our alliance would be there, but as far as I know, the decision had been made not to assist them by you and your government, President Spencer.”

“Those reports were… premature, Madam Prime Minister. As I’ve said a few times in the last thirty minutes, the Coalition believes it has a moral obligation to help the Zeivlots and Zavlots. We also maintain that stopping a potential universe-ending gray-goo scenario is worth the risk.”

“An easy statement when most of the warriors taking that risk are not yours,” Sherazi hissed with annoyance if not downright anger. His demeanor had been that way since the election of President Fuentes. Even after Fuentes resigned and Justin retook the presidency, the rift had never fully closed.

And I understand why. Sherazi feels a lot of Saurian blood was spilled for nothing. Justin steepled his fingers. “The Coalition is willing to put half of its fleet into play. Fleet carriers, our new antimatter-powered cruisers, entire battlegroups. We’re talking two hundred–plus ships here. This also constitutes most of our starfighter reserves. If each of you sends a corresponding contingent, it will get us to a thousand vessels. As I’ve explained repeatedly, General Cohen has a battle plan that calls for about that much firepower.”

“And?” Sherazi’s voice dripped acid.

“He’s got a good track record.”

“Then what? You run away after winning to leave the rest of us to clean it up?”

Justin gritted his teeth.

Before he could respond, Igamaya interjected, “The Combine cannot support this action unless all are in agreement. We have communicated this fact. It is regrettable that consensus cannot be reached, but we are unwilling to risk our forces without all doing the same.”

“That’s why I’m invoking Article Five. An attack on one is an attack on all. We must stand united,” Justin replied.

“Humans,” Sherazi hissed. “Silver-tongued devil lizards who speak in glowing terms about what we must do. Some of you have redeeming features, and some have honor, but most of your politicians would sell their brood mother to get something they want.”

Ascaro replied, “Chief Minister—”

“The Terran Coalition, after spilling the blood of countless Saurians and millions of its own warriors, signed a peace treaty with the League of Sol.” Sherazi pointed at Fuentes, who sat to Justin’s right. “On top of it, more Saurians died to save your nation at the Third Battle of Canaan. Which should never have been fought!” Spittle flew out of the Saurian leader’s mouth as he raged.

Justin sat unmoving and blew out a breath as he waited for Sherazi to have his say. He’s wanted to get this out for a while. I tried to get him to do it in private, but on a SATO vidlink… why not? When MacIntosh tried to speak, Justin motioned for him to stop.

“You voided the sacrifice of our warriors and ignored every shred of honor, decency, and common sense. Now you ask us to shed our blood for aliens in a different galaxy with no strategic or material value to the Saurian Empire. At least here in the Milky Way, we have a shared goal to keep the League at bay. This is madness, and I will not support it!”

Fuentes spread his hands out on the mahogany table and stood. “I have repeatedly apologized in private and in public for the disastrous series of decisions my administration made. I’ve owned that, Chief Minister. What more do you want?”

Sherazi stood, flinging back his chair. “I want my honored warriors returned to me and the League’s defeat completed!”

“I can’t give you that, Chief Minister. All I can do is apologize and acknowledge that I should never have signed the treaty. It was wrong, and if I am ever in a position to sign such a document again, I won’t.”

“Then why didn’t you press on after defeating the League at Canaan for a third time?” Sherazi yelled. “You had them in your grasp! All there was to do was press forward to Earth!”

Justin held up a hand as Fuentes opened his mouth. He counted off a few seconds before speaking. “It wasn’t that simple, and you know it. Our fleet was exhausted. We lost tens of thousands of soldiers and dozens of ships that day. Most of the ones that remained had extensive damage. Even the Lion of Judah was barely functional. I also remind you, Chief Minister, there was no SATO. The Saurian vessels that came to help did so in direct disobedience of orders. Who here would’ve joined us on a march to Earth?”

No one replied.

“Hear that silence? That’s the answer. We were on our own, and the neutrals, even if they had joined us, didn’t have the military capability to get to Earth. All that would’ve been accomplished is the destruction of the Coalition. Instead, I signed a treaty that hobbled the League for a generation. Maybe forever, if we’re lucky and remain vigilant. That isn’t a decision I regret.”

“What is it humans say? Two sides of the same coin,” Sherazi hissed.

“You know, Chief Minister… Saurians love to bring up honor. It’s the first and last thing trotted out in any negotiation. In case I haven’t been clear, refusing to abide by a treaty your government signed is dishonorable. Or would you disagree?”

“Careful, human. Or you will face my wrath.”

“How? Are you going to leave SATO?” Justin smirked. “Because threatening to bail out on an alliance you’ve just said you won’t honor isn’t much of a threat.”

Sherazi stared daggers. “You hide behind words, human.”

“Words like what the Prophet said to do… to use your blade to protect the weak and the innocent.”

“Do not dare to quote our scriptures at me!” Sherazi thundered.

Everyone else in the room stared at Justin, seeming unsure what to do or say.

“Why, Chief Minister? Something Jesus said comes to mind right now. ‘Remove the beam from your eye before you remove the speck from your brother’s eye.’ It seems you don’t like having the hypocrisy of your position pointed out. The Saurian text is easy to read. Perhaps your conscience is what’s bothering you.”

“If you believe in this cause so much, human, why aren’t you fighting for it directly? Put your life on the line for these Zeivlots and Zavlots.”

Justin blinked. He remembered Waters’s words, that he had the talents and skills needed to convince the Saurians to join the fight. This is what He meant. “I will personally fly a Phantom space-superiority fighter into combat alongside our forces… if you will bring the Resit Kartal along with half your fleet.”

Sherazi narrowed his eyes, and excited hisses in the Saurian tongue came from those gathered with him. He finally spoke. “I have always admired your personal honor, President Spencer. Even if I hold some of those in the Terran Coalition with disdain. We agree to your terms. As long as you fly the mission, I will personally command the Resit Kartal. Or I should say I will accompany her. I have no desire to challenge her void captain to ritual combat.”

“The Independent Systems Federation votes to join the Terran Coalition and Saurian Empire in defense of Sextans B,” Ascaro interjected.

All eyes went to the holoprojected image of the Matrinid leader.

“The Combine will uphold its duty to the SATO alliance and join the expedition to Sextans B.”

Justin grinned. “Then, ladies and gentlemen, we have consensus. I will direct General MacIntosh in his capacity as COMSPACEFLT to immediately begin operational planning. Because of the ad-hoc nature of our force, including the hundreds of Zeivlot, Zavlot, and Admari ships joining the defense, running multinational training is a priority. I want to see orders cut for fleet movements today. Madam Prime Minister, would you handle the security council piece of this, as the acting president?”

“Yes, Mr. President.”

Sherazi interjected in a loud hiss, “Do not dishonor Saurian warriors again, President Spencer. And ensure that your politicians avoid doing so as well. Otherwise, we will terminate this alliance.”

“Noted,” Justin replied. “If there’s nothing else, let’s return to our respective corners and go to work.”

A few moments later, the various vidlinks blinked off, leaving the Situation Room in deathly-still silence.

It was shattered by Secretary of Defense Snow. “Mr. President, you can’t be serious.”

Justin turned to her and raised an eyebrow. “I’m perfectly serious, Celinda. Andrew’s known me long enough to know that too.”

“Sir, forget everything else. You can’t fly a combat sortie. You haven’t flown a fighter in decades!”

“When you put as many hours into the cockpit as I did, Celinda, you never forget that skill. Not to mention I’ve flown since then. My wife and kids usually buy me a couple of hours in a planetary shuttle every couple of years.”

“That’s not enough—”

“Sir, what are you doing?” MacIntosh cut in. “We agreed to destroy the wormhole and seal the Milky Way off from this nanite menace. That is the preferred course of action from the Senate, your vice president, virtually every military advisor, and you as of three hours ago.”

“I changed my mind.”

“Sir…”

Justin crossed his arms. “Some of you may not support what I’ve decided. Andrew, I’ve served with you and counted you as a friend for thirty-three years. But if you or anyone else in this room can’t get on board for what I just ordered as commander-in-chief… submit your resignations effective immediately.”

“I think you might be taking this too far, Justin,” Fuentes said. “Maybe we should step back. Give it some additional thought.”

“This room is not a democracy, Edwardo. Once I make the call, that’s it. We’re helping the Zeivlots and the Zavlots. End of story. Now, are the rest of you on board?”

MacIntosh pursed his lips. “Sir, if anyone else were proposing this, I’d say they’re insane. But for God’s sake, don’t lead us off a cliff because you think it’s the right thing to do.”

“It is the right thing to do.” Justin blew out a breath. “There will be provisions in our ROE for what to do if the battle goes sideways. One of them is the carriers pull out, and the other is we collapse the wormhole behind us if it comes to that. But something tells me it won’t.”

Rollins leaned forward. “If I may, sir, allow me to remind you that declaring war, even against gray goo, requires congressional approval in both chambers.”

“Per the War Powers Act, that’s after sixty days. We’ll deal with it later.”

“But—”

“Later.” Justin made eye contact with a few of them. “Okay. Let’s get to work. I want to address the nation tonight during primetime in Lawrence City. Ask all holochannels to preempt. Oh, and, Andrew… I need simulator time in a Phantom and a refamiliarization course.” He said it like he was ordering a burger from a White House steward.

“Yes, Mr. President.”

“Thank you, everyone. Richard, keep me updated.”

Everyone sprang to their feet and headed out except General Andrew MacIntosh. He waited for the room to empty and the door to close before speaking. “Sir, I strongly recommend you do not engage in combat. You’re thirty years from your days as a fighter pilot.”

“Worried about me, Andrew?”

“And Michelle and your four kids. There are many reasons why it’s a bad idea, starting with your lack of recent experience and the fact that your body isn’t as young as it used to be.”

“I’m aware of the effects of G-forces, Andrew. I’ll be okay.”

“No talking you out of this, is there?”

Justin stood. “I’m afraid not. We need to do this. I’m surer of it than anything else I’ve ever done, including backing the Victory Project.”

MacIntosh nodded. “Yes, sir. I’ll get you set up with a simulator. But you’re telling your wife.”

Of everything he had to do, that part worried Justin the most.

19

David had faced unwinnable battles many times, from using a destroyer to defeat a heavy cruiser to beating Admiral Seville in repeated engagements against the League of Sol to the Third Battle of Canaan. Being outgunned and outnumbered was a way of life. But facing the nanites was different. His feet felt heavy as he exited his day cabin and took a few steps to the conference room. In one part of his mind, he didn’t think it was right to ask the crew and officers of the Lion of Judah or the rest of the fleet to fight the nanites without reinforcements from SATO. But something deep within him overrode that. It’s more than simply a matter of honor. It’s what’s right.

He shoved the hatch open to find the entire senior staff waiting, including Dr. Hayworth. They all sprang from their seats.

“General on deck!” Master Chief Tinetariro called out.

“As you were.” David had said the phrase so many times in the same room for the same reason that it was automatic and almost robotic. Might be one of the reasons the CDF only wants a ship driver in the big chair for three years maximum. To ensure there’s always something new.

Once he lowered himself into the chair at the head of the table, the others sat.

“From the stare in your eyes, I can only assume our political leadership punted,” Hayworth said.

David couldn’t suppress a smirk. “Always on point, Doctor. No. They’re not sending combat forces. There will be an evacuation, and to President Spencer’s credit, he’s pulling out every ship, including the Exodus fleet.”

“Why? Why are they going to let billions of people die?” Ruth asked. Her eyes blazed with rage.

“It’s not that simple, and you know it, Captain,” David replied. “The truth is Zeivlot and Zavlot aren’t Terran worlds.”

Ruth put her hands together almost as a gesture to control herself. “I know you don’t believe that, sir.”

“I don’t, but I’m a military officer. I implement policy. Neither I nor anyone else here makes policy.”

Ruth didn’t reply.

“It is cowardly for a warrior to sheath his blade in the presence of an enemy,” Aibek hissed. “I expected more from a leader such as your President Spencer. He understands combat because he fought.”

“For what it’s worth, I think Spencer wanted to do more. But he was probably convinced not to.”

Hayworth let out a grumble mixed with his trademark harrumph. “Politicians. Can’t ever get anything right. We’re staying, of course?”

Surprised, David replied, “On a volunteer basis only. Anyone, including senior officers, who wants to head back to the Milky Way is welcome to do so. I want it known that I will not think any less of anyone who goes home.”

“These technological horrors have to be stopped,” Hayworth replied. “As much as I like living my life and enjoying the fruits of my mind… I don’t trust anyone to do my job as well as me. I’ll be here until the end, General.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

“It doesn’t take religion to know there are times when force is required, and this is one of them.” Hayworth crossed his arms. “We shouldn’t have interfered here in the first place, but we did, and helping them is the only way to own it.”

“Well said, Doctor,” Merriweather interjected. “I’m staying.”

“That goes for me too,” Calvin said. “Marines don’t cut and run. That’s something cowards do.”

Ruth smiled. “You know which way I go, sir.”

“I’m in, sir.” Taylor glanced at Ruth before focusing on David. “Whatever it takes.”

Tinetariro cleared her throat. “Any enlisted rating who attempts to desert his or her post in the face of the enemy will be PTed until their feet bleed and assigned to damage control.”

“Now, now, Master Chief,” David replied with a chuckle. “I was serious about this being all volunteer. It means so much to me that all of you are willing to put your lives on the line for these people and, ultimately, for me. But it must be a willing sacrifice. Because chances are none of us are going home.”

“The Lion of Judah always finds a way,” Ruth interjected.

Aibek hissed loudly. “And we will again.”

“Fight the good fight.” Hanson leaned forward and brought his fist down hard on the table. “No matter the cost.”

Emotion welled in David as he took in everyone’s faces. Pain, bitterness, pride, and respect all mingled together. The finest in the fleet. Ordering them into combat again with virtually no hope of success would be the hardest thing he’d ever done. But somewhere deep within, David knew it was the only path he could walk. “Thank you.”

“You can count on us, sir,” Hammond said with a grim smile. “And whatever it takes, I’ll fly us into that nanite monstrosity if Hanson’s magic beams work.”

“Funny you should mention that.” The engineer waved his tablet with theatrical flair. “Final tests are in from the doctor and Markul. The sims say it works.”

David turned to Hayworth. “What’s your assessment of our odds?”

“Poor. But better than they would’ve been before Art… Hanson came up with this.” Hayworth smiled at him. “Not your worst work, my boy.”

Big words coming from Benjamin Hayworth. “Okay. Then we proceed. We’ve got what? Sixty Admari ships, the Ajaxes we’ve constructed, anything the Zavlots and Zeivlots can mount weapons on… and a couple thousand ground-based Phantoms. It’s a hard task and very well may be impossible. But history will never forget the Lion of Judah or what we do here in the next few weeks. Make it count, ladies and gentlemen.”

David was about to end the meeting with a plea for divine intervention when his handcomm buzzed insistently. He brought it up to see the call was from Lieutenant Bell, the second-shift communications officer. “Go ahead.”

“Sir, I’ve got a message from President Spencer for your eyes only.”

Well, this is probably going from bad to worse. Maybe MacIntosh or Snow convinced him to recall us. “Put it through to the conference room tablet, Lieutenant.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

David kept his facial features as neutral as possible as he picked up the device and validated his identity with a retina scan.

“What does it say?” Aibek asked impatiently.

At first, David couldn’t believe his eyes. He reread the message three times to ensure he wasn’t hallucinating. “SATO is sending the majority of its fleets to engage the nanites and mount a defense of Zeivlot and Zavlot.”

“What?” half a dozen officers shouted at once.

David held up a hand while cueing the handcomm. “Lieutenant Bell, can you confirm this message is authentic?”

“Yes, sir. Proper code of the day and sequence operation.”

“Understood. Cohen out.” David’s mind swam through the about-face. “Okay. According to this, we’ll need to prepare for indigenous force integration into the CDF command network. More information to follow.”

Hayworth harrumphed. “Maybe they took an opinion poll that suggested the population wouldn’t approve of their action plan.”

“Something tells me that committing a thousand ships to another galaxy to defend against the gray goo isn’t exactly high on any SATO member’s opinion polling.” David stared at the tablet, still wondering if it was all real.

“The odds have shifted in our favor,” Aibek hissed. “For this, we should thank the Prophet.”

“No, they haven’t. It’ll still take a miracle to win,” David replied. “Don’t forget that, people. Now… we’ve got a lot of work to do, but they’re things I look forward to doing. Lieutenant Taylor, get contacts set up with the proper command chain. Colonel Aibek and I will then feed assignments out to each department. Dismissed.”

As everyone sprang from their seats and headed toward the hatch, David sensed a renewed optimism that was infectious. Perhaps we may yet prevail, God willing. One thing was sure—the chances of their survival had dramatically increased.

20

Mishka Vog’t still wasn’t sure what to make of the humans’ reconnection to their home galaxy. Zeivlot held its breath, with one segment of the population sure the men and women they’d placed so much hope in would leave as soon as possible, while the rest believed they were sent by the Maker Himself to deliver them.

She had also been made aware of persistent rumors that the leader of the Terran Coalition had been prepared to destroy the obelisk in the Milky Way to wipe out the wormhole. While they were unsubstantiated and certainly not in line with the vidlink she was about to take, Vog’t had to admit if she were in the Coalition leader’s shoes, cutting off a threat vector for her people would’ve been at the top of her mind.

The large flat-screen device in her office came alive with a split image. One side contained President Justin Spencer, the other Chairman Olgsian.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” Vog’t said with as much of a smile as she could muster.

“Thank you, Madame Zupan,” Justin replied.

“I greet both of you in the name of the Zavlot people,” Olgsian added.

No other advisors were on the screen, and Vog’t was alone. Her war leader had wanted to attend, but she felt the discussion would be more open with only the leaders present. “On behalf of both our worlds, I thank the Terran Coalition for standing with us.”

“It is an honor to do so, and after this battle is fought, we hope to continue to be a force for good.” Justin flashed a smile. “I wish this were in person, but I won’t be able to travel to Sextans B until a few days before the battle. There’s much work to do here.”

“Do you truly intend to fight alongside your forces?” Olgsian asked.

Justin nodded. “Yes.”

Vog’t was struck by how easily the answer rolled off the human leader’s tongue. He is a man with supreme confidence. “And your military leaders will allow this?”

“In our system of government, I am the commander-in-chief. They take their orders from me. It helps that I’m a decorated fighter pilot.”

“Yes, indeed, it would.” Vog’t tilted her head. “We have seen a great many vessels of different designs appear in our skies in the last week. I didn’t realize the Milky Way had so many species capable of projecting such power.”

“That’s just from one arm of our galaxy, Zupan. Most of it remains unexplored. I’m pretty sure there’s a lot of other intelligent life out there. It so happens that the Sagittarius Arm is pretty united. More so than we’ve ever been.”

For all his flowery words, Vog’t knew thorny issues remained, and she wasn’t afraid to hit them head-on. “I recognize that the transfer of much of your military technology to us was quite a shock.”

“An understatement,” Justin replied with a thin smile. “Though what you received is only the tip of the iceberg.”

Vog’t tilted her head. “Iceberg?”

“Human expression. Sorry. There’s a lot more you don’t have. The sum of human knowledge is so vast that no one person or even ten thousand people can know it all. The same goes for the Saurians and Matrinid. But what was gifted to your worlds will catch you up considerably. Once this is all over, there will be a time and place to discuss what happens next.”

“If we’re still alive,” Olgsian interjected. “It’s still a possible outcome that we lose.”

“Well said, Chairman. Thank you for bringing that up. I want to again extend an invitation to any Zeivlot or Zavlot civilian who wishes to come to the Milky Way while we still have time.”

So far, not many Zeivlots wanted to abandon their home. Vog’t was split. Part of her wished for as many to escape as possible, while the rest of her knew somewhere deep down they would win, and the thought of billions of her citizens being scattered to the stars was painful. But what will happen in the end? Only the Maker knows. “I will redouble my government’s attempts to get our people to take advantage of your most generous offer, President Spencer.”

“As will I,” Olgsian said. “May I ask a question, since we have you alone, leader to leader?”

“Go for it,” Justin replied. “As long as it’s not classified, I’ll do my best.”

“General Cohen admitted us to the Terran Coalition on paper. I realize such a thing probably has a complex process in reality. But is it a possibility? Assuming we survive.”

Justin let out a sigh, pursed his lips, and paused. The wheels churning in his mind were almost visible. “If it were up to me, the answer would be unequivocally yes. But that’s not how our system of government works. There are checks and balances on my power, and admitting a new world requires substantial majorities in both congressional chambers. I promise you this: I will do everything in my power to see that both Zeivlot and Zavlot are admitted to the Coalition, if that’s what your people and government want.”

“That is all I can ask for, Mr. President.”

“I hope to meet you both in person after this is over and toast our victory while thanking God for it and those who died to defend our people, Madame Zupan.”

Such words from most politicians she knew on either Zeivlot or Zavlot would come off as canned, but Justin’s earnestness overcame all doubts. That must be his gift. And why he leads his people. Yet I must still be cautious. My job is to ensure the best outcome for all Zeivlots, while he stands for the Coalition.

“Zupan, Chairman, do you have any further questions for me?” Justin asked.

“I do not,” Olgsian replied.

“Nor do I,” Vog’t said. “We welcome your arrival, and I hope the Maker blesses your path.”

“Thank you. I must be moving to the next meeting… the joy of having your life managed in fifteen-minute increments, as I’m sure both of you are well aware. Godspeed, and I will see both of you soon.”

The screen went black.

Vog’t hated having to trust three species of aliens from a different galaxy. But what else can we do? Above all, she had a burning desire to get on with it. With reports of rampant mental issues in the citizens of both Zeivlot and Zavlot, which only increased the closer they got to the arrival of the nanites, at times, it seemed like the lead-up was worse than the event. But only if we win. The footage of the swarm devouring an inhabited planet was never far from her memory. Maker help us.

Time flew by as preparations for the battle continued. Everyone worked around the clock, getting by on three to four hours of sleep per night. The schedule was brutal but required. David pushed himself to the absolute limit, as he felt it was essential to set an example for all others. Coalition reinforcements were starting to flow through the wormhole but only as they received the neutron-beam upgrades.

He’d been assured the bulk of the fleet would come in the last week before the nanites were to arrive. At least we know exactly where they are and how fast they’re traveling so we can pinpoint down to the hour when they’ll show up. It was quite unlike any other engagement he’d ever fought except the Third Battle of Canaan, and even that comparison didn’t hold up because they’d had no idea what Admiral Seville was bringing to the fight.

The buzzer to David’s day cabin went off, and he set down his tablet. “Yes?”

“It’s Rabbi Kravitz.”

“Come!”

The hatch swung open, and the cheerful older rabbi came through before plopping into one of the chairs without asking. “You look awful.”

David chuckled. “Nice to see you too, Rabbi.”

“When was the last time you left this office?”

“Uh, this morning?”

Kravitz clicked his tongue. “You’re in here morning, noon, and night. Barely seen outside of it.”

“The amount of paperwork is overwhelming.”

“Yes, it makes the CDF go round. We all know it.” Kravitz leaned forward. “I haven’t seen you much at the shul, either.”

David narrowed his eyes. “There’s been a lot to do.”

“Or you’re hiding.”

As usual, he’s unflinching in cutting to the core of the matter. “I don’t think I’d characterize it quite like—”

“Why?” Kravitz’s stare was piercing.

David held eye contact for a few moments before turning away. His feelings were the last things he wished to discuss. Yet he’d learned over the decades that they had to come to the surface at some point. Why not with the rabbi? “The truth? I’m terrified.”

“Good.”

The response took David by surprise. “I don’t follow.”

“You are what? Two weeks away from the most significant battle fought by the human race? If you weren’t terrified, something would be wrong with you.”

“It’s not quite that simple, Rabbi. We’re talking about more than combat. When I lead men and women into battle, we’re directed by our superiors all the way up to the president of the Terran Coalition. He makes that call. In this situation, I made the call. Every death, every ship destroyed… is on me. It is a burden far beyond what I’m used to.”

“You’ve been shouldering that the entire time we’ve been in this galaxy.”

David pursed his lips. “Yes, and it’s one of the reasons I was far more reluctant to explore or make first contact with new species after the Mifreen. That was only thirteen thousand soldiers. Now we’re talking more than a million. What if I lead them all to their doom?”

Kravitz stared at him for several seconds. “There is a rather key point I haven’t heard you mention.”

“What’s that?”

“HaShem. Not once in this conversation have you acknowledged that we can only do so much, that the ultimate decision on everything that happens to us is solely decided by Him.”

David blinked before leaning back. “You’re right, Rabbi.”

“Of course I am.” Kravitz smiled. “He who honors Me, I will honor.”

David recognized the verse from the first book of Samuel. “We should pray to be on God’s side rather than hope He is on ours.”

“Well put.”

“I can’t take credit for that. I served on the CSV Abraham Lincoln. That’s one of the things he had to say about war, all the way back in the 1800s.”

Kravitz grinned. “Those from the olden days had wisdom. At times, far more than we possess today.”

“On that, we agree.”

“HaShem will walk with us, David. You’re trying to stop billions of His creations from being eradicated. There is no higher purpose, no more noble a calling.”

“I pray you’re right and that I’m going down the right path.”

“At least you question. That is an indication you are.”

Emotion rose in David. He wished his connection with God were stronger and that it was more personal. I wish I could talk about my experience at the end of the League war. But that would be for another day—or perhaps never. “Bo’hai is expecting.”

Kravitz’s jaw dropped. “You, a father?”

“Yup.” David chuckled. “Crazy, huh?”

“Be fruitful and multiply in the land the Lord your God has given you. Sounds like you’re off to a good start.”

“If I survive to be a father.” David glanced at a photo of his dad. “I always promised myself that I would wait to have a family until I had left the military.”

“That was overcome by events.”

David chuckled. “Yes, quite. Please, pray for the safety of our child and her.”

“I assume she will leave the ship?”

“Yes.” David nodded. “I’m sending her to the Milky Way. If we fail, the plan is still to implode the wormhole and destroy the obelisk on the other side. It’s the only way to keep her and our child safe. Which brings me to a question I’ve been meaning to ask.”

“Oh?”

David shifted. “You should evacuate the Lion on one of the last transports out.”

For a moment, it appeared as if Kravitz would erupt from his seat. “Absolutely not.”

“Rabbi—”

“I am an officer in the Coalition Defense Force, the same as you. What kind of rabbi would I be if I left those who need my care? No. My place is here.”

David pursed his lips. “Very well.”

“Try not to get the ship destroyed around us.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Kravitz stood. “Come to the shul. Get yourself right with HaShem, and ask for his guidance. Make sure your soul is at peace before this battle.”

“Yes, Rabbi.”

“Good. Then my work here is done. I will see you later today, yes?”

“Of course.”

Kravitz inclined his head before departing and leaving David in silence.

Rather than immediately jump back into the morass of paperwork and tactical planning, David took a few minutes to reflect before praying quietly in Hebrew. After asking HaShem for help, he redoubled his efforts, and everything felt easier to accomplish, at least for a little while.

21

Major John Wilson stepped onto the Lion of Judah’s main gravlift on deck five. The passageway he’d just walked down was longer than his ship. He’d only stepped foot on the Lion a few times before. The best of the fleet indeed. Everyone on the vessel had a swagger about them. Every crew did, but the Lion’s was more extreme than most he’d met. They all reminded him of Senior Chief Stokes. Then again, they’ve earned it.

Moments later, the doors swished open to reveal the corridor on deck one. There were only a few hatches, one that led to the bridge and had two Marine sentries standing guard, the conference room, and finally, Wilson’s destination: the commanding officer’s day cabin.

He pressed the button on the door, and a moment later, David boomed, “Come!”

Wilson strode in and came to attention before the small desk that was, in many ways, exactly like his on the Salinan. “Major John Wilson reports as ordered, sir.”

“At ease,” David replied before grinning. “Have a seat.”

“Thank you, sir.” Wilson slid into the chair while maintaining ramrod-straight posture. “You know, I still expect this to be bigger.”

David snickered. “Well, given the exploits of your crew, I’d say the same about the Salinan, but yes, valid point. I think they put most of the extra space into our recreational areas, larger quarters, et cetera. The involvement of civilians in the design process led to some… shall we say interesting choices.”

“But perhaps it all worked out, yes? For one, having those recreational facilities probably kept morale up a bit more than it would’ve been. I know my crew raves about them.”

“True. Everything seems to come together in the end. That’s a Christian maxim, if I remember correctly.”

Wilson nodded. “And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are called according to His purpose. A lot of people seem to forget the second half of that particular verse, General.”

“So they do.” David stared past him at something on the other side of the cramped room. “Out here, though, I’ve noticed that things have a way of becoming simpler. No competing politics back on Canaan, no feuding joint chiefs or daily dispatches from the Peace Union. For now, there’s only one goal. There’s something refreshing to that kind of intensity.”

“Yes, sir.”

David returned his gaze to Wilson. “I asked you here today, Major, to recognize the outsize effect your ship and crew, under your leadership, have provided so far. I’ve got probably thirty bravo zulus about the Salinan sitting in your personnel file.”

“Oh, it’s nothing, sir. All part of the service. And if we’ve gone above and beyond, all credit lies with my crew.”

“We both know that little ship of yours has one heck of a big heart, Major.”

Wilson chuckled. “Don’t call it little.”

David flashed a smile before leaning back. “I’ve put through a field promotion for you to Lieutenant Colonel… and I’ve got a new assignment, if you’re interested.”

Wilson’s heart rate quickened. “What might that be, sir?”

“Command of a destroyer flotilla.”

A moment of silence followed as Wilson processed David’s words. I never thought I’d get to major, much less get command of a ship. Now an entire squadron? “If it’s all the same sir, I’d prefer to finish out my tour on the Salinan. That ship… she’s more of a family now after how long we’ve been together.”

David raised an eyebrow. “I think you’d be more effective with better armaments and defensive capabilities, and your XO seems quite capable of stepping in, from your performance evaluation of him.”

“Oh, I’m sure of it. But this is more about wanting to see something through. If you’d allow it, sir.”

David set his tablet down on the desk. “As much as I’d prefer to order you to take command of a destroyer… I get it. A man likes to finish what he starts. Okay. But I’m still pushing that promotion through.”

“If we survive the battle, I’m sure the bump in retirement pay will come in handy, sir.”

“I imagine it would.”

“Thank you, sir. And remember… it’s not the machine. It’s the men and women using the machine.”

David nodded. “Truth, Colonel.” He glanced at a wall mounted chronometer. “Well, it’s time for my next appointment. Keep up the good work. And find me another destroyer driver.”

Wilson stood. “Yes, sir. I’ll look through my officers and see if anyone stands out.”

“Until we meet again.” David tilted his head. “Godspeed, and dismissed.”

“Godspeed, sir.” Wilson came to attention before turning smartly on his heel and marching out of the day cabin, careful to make sure the hatch closed behind him.

Questions entered his mind as he walked toward the gravlift. Did I make the right call there? Maybe I’m supposed to run a destroyer group. The doors opened, and the empty interior beckoned. No, the Salinan is where I belong and where I can make the most difference.

Sometimes, David wished he could somehow walk around the Lion of Judah with an invisibility cloak on. Striding through bulkhead after bulkhead and crossing into Marine country was one of those places. While most of the CDF soldiers or aviation ratings settled into a pattern by which one person in a row of crewmen braced to attention, there was no such luck with the Marines. Every last one stopped and went ramrod straight until he told them, “At ease.”

It took him a good fifteen minutes to get to Calvin’s office, which was, of course, located at the tail end of the section. The eternal tug of war between the CDF and the TCMC. It’s been going on for generations, and it’s not stopping now. Such things were simply how the military worked.

David rapped on the hatch.

“Come!” Calvin shouted.

He pushed the hatch open and walked in. The room was even smaller than David’s day cabin. “Is it just me, or do you have more knickknacks in here than you did two weeks ago?”

Calvin jumped up and stiffened. “Nah. I got some Zeivlot stuff. They’re selling these bobblehead things based on our likeness.” He jerked his thumb toward a display of what could only be described as goofy-shaped dolls.

David smirked. “Why did you waste your credits on that?”

“Maybe it’ll be a collector’s item someday.” Calvin shrugged. “You got a better retirement strategy?”

“Well, there’s that package we’re all supposed to get for our decades of service.”

“Yeah, well, no offense, sir, but I’m not sure I’ll be alive to collect it. So I’ll leave these for my kid.”

David snickered. “Love the bright and cheery outlook, Cal.”

“Hey, that’s not what we get paid for. Otherwise, the pay wouldn’t suck so bad. Now, what brings you all the way down here, sir?”

“Sit down, and I’ll tell you.”

Calvin dropped into his seat, and David joined him a moment later.

David put his hands on the table. “I’ll cut right to the chase. I noticed you and most Marines have signed up for the volunteer list.”

“Yeah, and?”

“You’ve got a child at home, Cal.”

Calvin pursed his lips and glanced away. “Yeah. I’ve been counting down those minutes until the comms relay is built, you know? Hoping I’ll get to see him—it’s a boy, by the way—before we do this.”

“This isn’t a ground op. We don’t need twenty-five hundred Marines on the Lion to execute.”

“Are you telling me we’re not welcome?”

“Well—”

“I have to see this through.” Calvin glared. “We all do. Besides, the nanites might board the ship. If that happens, you’ll need us.”

David shook his head. “We both know they’d only be a bump in the road, if it comes to that. I don’t want anyone to put their lives on the line if they don’t have to.”

Calvin stared directly into his eyes. “I won’t abandon my brothers- and sisters-in-arms or those people down on Zeivlot and Zavlot. Not now. Everything else doesn’t matter anymore, sir. You know what I mean.”

At some point, regardless of the justness of the cause, a soldier fought for those to his right and left. David knew the feeling well. “Still, you don’t have to do this. Your son deserves a father.”

“Cowards cut and run. I’d rather never meet my son than have to face him every day of my life knowing I let my Marines, innocents, and my friends down. We’ve been through hell… but I will see it through, no matter the cost.”

The intensity of the emotion in Calvin’s words caught David by surprise. So did the tear that formed in his left eye.

“Okay.”

“Besides, if your fleet boys are as good as you claim, this fancy new weapon will win the day, and the old ground pounders will get to sit with our feet propped up, watching old War Patrol reruns.” Calvin’s voice returned to its usual timbre.

“We’ll do our part,” David replied and forced a small smile.

“So, how’s that wife of yours doing? She going to come back to the Coalition with us, or are you moving here?”

David chuckled. “She… Well…”

“Oh, come on. Out with it. Don’t tell me she got wise and dumped your sorry ass to date a Marine.”

They both laughed.

“We’re expecting a child.”

“No. Seriously? Oh Lord, say it isn’t so. More squids.” Calvin reached across the table and slapped David’s arm. “Don’t worry. When this kid of yours grows up, I’ll make sure he or she joins the real service.”

“And I will be doubly sure to make sure to not buy too many crayons.”

Calvin turned serious. “You know you can’t have her on the ship when we—”

“Yeah, I know. That was a difficult conversation. The week before we engage, I’ll send her to the Coalition.”

“Your mother?”

David nodded. “Yeah, that’s the only family I’m close to, with all my years in space.”

“Being on the front for patrol after patrol does tend to limit one’s contact with relatives.” Calvin grinned. “But that can sometimes be positive if you’ve got a bunch of knuckleheads for cousins like I do.”

“Oh?

“Yeah, half of them are squids. Can you believe that?”

Service rivalries never went out of style, not even a few weeks before fighting a universe-ending threat. Perhaps even more so, the old jokes and punchlines provided a respite from thinking about impending doom. “Sound like smart people to me. Friends don’t let friends join the TCMC and need bionic limbs in ten years.”

“Just remember when you’re sleeping in your bunk... Heaven’s shores are guarded by the Marines.”

“We’ll see when we get there, which I hope will not be in a few weeks.”

Calvin pursed his lips. “From your lips to God’s ears. I gotta admit I want to see my kid, you know?”

“Trust me. I do.” David’s mind went to Bo’hai and their child.

“We can’t let emotions interfere with combat,” Calvin said after a pause. “That’s how you get killed.”

“Yes. That’s why Salena has to go. That and… I don’t want to contemplate making a poor choice because I’m worried about her.” David sucked in a breath. “Are you sure you and the rest of the MEU want to do this?”

“Completely.”

David nodded. “Okay. Your call, then.” He stood. “Let me know if you need anything. Otherwise, see you at the officers’ mess tonight.”

“Yes, sir.”

As David returned to his day cabin, he was still concerned that so many had volunteered. While it was a testament to their mission, David felt the weight of every soul. But with a few hundred thousand soldiers from four space-faring nations joining the defense, what right do I have to feel protective of my people over others? As he was wont to do, he asked HaShem for guidance and pressed on with the work. Perhaps after this battle, we will not know war for some time. That would be a relief.

22

Simulators sure are a lot nicer than they were thirty years ago. The holoprojected graphics around the canopy of Justin’s Phantom pod were so close to the real thing that he couldn’t tell them apart. The cockpit was a one-for-one representation. Even the flight effects were perfect. If he executed a barrel roll, the sim flipped upside down before coming back around. It was as close as one could get to the void without being there.

He would have preferred to train hands-on in a Phantom, but with the demands of being a head of state, that wasn’t an option. Meanwhile, his pledge to fly a combat mission in Sextans B had turned into a media circus. It was all the talking heads spoke of twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. From GNN to Canaan News Network to every offshoot, GalNet personality, and vidblogger, it was all any of them could focus on.

Justin whipped his craft around and settled into the weapons envelope behind a League Shrike interceptor. “Alpha One, guns, guns, guns.”

Dual neutron cannons erupted into the void, sending bright-blue bolts into the shields of the Leaguer craft. It twisted away as its AI-controlled pilot tried to employ a series of S-curves to force Justin out of his superior position.

The missile lock-on tone buzzed, and Justin pressed the launch button. “Alpha One, fox two.” An upgraded HT-62D Eagle heat-seeking missile accelerated away from his craft and, within seconds, slammed into the weakened aft shields of the League interceptor. It blew apart with a bright-orange explosion that only lasted a moment, as all available oxygen was consumed. They even got that detail right.

“I’m afraid that’s your allotted time for today, sir,” the simulator’s controller said over the commlink. “Unless you’d like to continue.”

“Oh, I’d love to do this all day,” Justin replied with a grin. “Save for that crazy schedule.”

“Of course, Mr. President. Terminating the sim.”

The projectors flipped off as the screens went black, and the canopy rose, allowing light in from the room beyond.

Justin climbed out of the pod and dropped to his feet to find the rest of the simulator area empty except for General MacIntosh, who stiffened to attention. “Oh, come on, Andrew. At ease.”

Usually, MacIntosh smiled back, but his dour expression never wavered, though he did relax to parade rest. “Do you have a moment, Mr. President?”

“Of course.”

“Permission to speak freely?”

Justin disengaged the helmet locks and pulled it off his head. “Andrew, you’ve never been anything but free with your thoughts with me. Why would you stop now?”

“With respect, sir, what you’re doing is madness. It’s got to stop.”

In truth, Justin had expected the conversation a lot sooner. He assumed his old friend wasn’t sure how to approach the subject. I’d probably say the same thing if I were on the other end of this. “It was the only way to get the Saurians on board.”

“You could’ve gotten the same effect by staying on a capital ship, like Sherazi is.”

Justin shook his head. “No. It appealed to him because I put my skin directly in the game, Andrew. That’s why the gambit worked.”

“You’re taking your life into your hands, Mr. President. Why? There’s nothing left to prove to anyone.”

“It’s not about that.” Justin blew out a breath. “The only way we save the Zeivlots from being eaten alive by the gray goo is to have SATO appear in force. My flying a combat sortie is the only way to get that outcome.”

“And if you die, sir? Which I’d like to point out is a likely outcome. I don’t care how many AI-generated League fighters you blow apart. We have no idea what the capabilities of these nanites are. You’ll be flying blind. We all will. Do you really want the man who was willing to give everything away to the League to lead us?”

Justin knew that MacIntosh had never quite forgiven Fuentes for the disastrous peace treaty he had signed. His words only confirmed it. “My term is almost over. If I did buy the farm, his term would be short, and frankly, he’s a better man than you give him credit for. Besides, the Terran Coalition is bigger than any one man or woman.”

“That’s easy to say, sir. Yet you’ve taken us out of a dark time. That kind of leadership isn’t easy to come by.”

Justin shrugged. “I don’t want to die, Andrew. I’ll do everything in my power not to. But ultimately, if it’s my time, then it is. That’s something I made peace with a long time ago.”

“What about Michelle and your four kids? The youngest two aren’t out of middle school yet.”

“If I perish, they will respect my sacrifice and honor my memory, which is the same thing every other family has done for their loved ones who paid the ultimate price over the last thirty-three years. Am I somehow better?”

“You’re the president, dammit, sir!”

Justin put a hand on MacIntosh’s shoulder. “Andrew, what do those Peace Union types like to say? We won’t get our hands dirty. We send some other mother’s son out to die. We’re chicken hawks. You and I know that’s a lie and pure garbage, but guess what… Here’s an opportunity to give them an object lesson.”

MacIntosh bit his lip. “Sir, you realize there’s no resetting the sim if you get shot down, right? You haven’t flown in combat in thirty years. Think of what you’re doing.”

“I have.” Justin crossed his arms. “I’m not throwing my life away, Andrew. This is something I need to do, and it comes from deep within my soul. You need to understand and respect that.”

“Do you remember the cost?”

“Looked on my desk recently? The reminder is always staring me in the face.”

MacIntosh sighed. “I’m not changing your mind, am I?”

“No.”

“Fighter jocks. Can’t reason with them ever.” MacIntosh put his hand on Justin’s shoulder. “For crying out loud, don’t get yourself killed, okay? I’ve put too many friends in the dirt, and I’m sick of it, sir.”

Justin put his free hand on top of MacIntosh’s. “I’ll do my best. Now, I’m supposed to head back to the White House—”

“And I’m briefing you en route. Megacorp situation on the border.”

“Never a dull moment.”

As Justin headed toward the locker room to change, what MacIntosh had said played repeatedly in his mind. Michelle had initially had similar thoughts, though as she always did, she supported his efforts. I hope I haven’t gone insane. It was still a possibility.

Bumpy shuttle rides weren’t exactly Kenneth Lowe’s favorite activity, but it was the only way he could get to Sextans B. The nearly nonstop transport service went from the orbit of XB-3612 into the Zeivlot solar system, and the Lion of Judah had ended up as a transfer waypoint to destinations farther in-system.

As the aft cargo ramp lowered, Kenneth released the restraints and stood to stretch his legs. Other civilians and soldiers pushed past until he started forward. It’s been a long time since I’ve set foot on the Lion.

“Well, well, well. Look what we’ve got here.”

Kenneth would’ve recognized the voice anywhere, though it took him a few moments to locate Calvin in the small army of people milling about. “Good to see you, too, Colonel.”

“I couldn’t believe it when I heard they were allowing slimy civilian comms geeks on my decks,” Calvin replied in a faux annoyed tone.

“Wouldn’t that be by the order of General Cohen, your boss?” Kenneth replied with a grin.

“Yeah, wise guy. Laugh it up.”

“So, where’s the honor guard?”

Calvin snorted a laugh and slapped Kenneth on the shoulder. “Good one, civvy. Seriously, though, why are you here?”

“I volunteered to oversee the installation of refit kits on Saurian and Matrinid vessels.”

“Why would you do a thing like that?”

“It seemed like a good way to help.”

“Yeah, yeah. You really want to help? Get a weapon and join the Marines.”

“I’m afraid I’m too old for that. Speaking of which, aren’t you up for retirement?”

Calvin crossed his arms. “Cold, Lowe.”

“Got any idea where the shuttle to shipyard seventy-six is?” Kenneth grinned.

“Uh, pad fifteen, I think. There’s a digital display showing time to arrival.” As he spoke, another shuttle roared overhead and set down farther into the expansive hangar deck. “More people on and off this tub than I’ve ever seen before. Hey, I thought I read you ended up owning that outfit you used to work for. So what’s with you running around fixing things?”

Kenneth shrugged. “It’s what I enjoy. Besides, this is one of those all-hands-on-deck situations. Especially since the Saurians and Matrinids demanded that all Zeivlot and Zavlot personnel be removed from any shipyard used to refit their vessels. Operational security concerns.”

Calvin snorted. “Yeah, well. We already gave them most of our tech, so what’s that old saying? Cat’s out of the bag.”

“True. Well, Colonel, good to see you. But I’d better be heading down to my ride.”

Calvin stuck out his hand, which Kenneth shook. “Good luck over there, Lowe. Trying to get Saurians and Matrinids to play nice, you’ll need it.”

Kenneth snickered. “Amen to that, Colonel. Godspeed to you.”

“Maybe I’ll give you a vidlink once this is all over. See about one of those fancy contractor jobs.”

“Seriously?” Kenneth stared at him like he’d grown a second head. Demood, wanting to come work for me? Gotta be a joke.

“Yeah. I need to put food on the table, and shooting Leaguers, terrorists, and other garbage isn’t exactly a marketable skill outside of a private military corporation, which I have no interest in doing. Once I hang up my rifle, I’m done.”

“Well, if we make it, let’s talk. I’ve got TCMC work.”

“Deal. See you around, comms geek.”

Kenneth shook his head and turned toward the makeshift shuttle pad. All around them, hundreds of people milled about, waiting. Ten days from Armageddon, and there’s still a queue for everything. Probably be a wait to get into heaven or hell too.

Once he arrived at the indicated area, a helpful digital sign said there were sixteen minutes to go until the next craft came. Kenneth pulled out his tablet and started composing a message to Catherine Owens, his fiancée. I know she thinks I’m nuts, but she still supports my mission. I’m lucky to have her.

Time marched on, as did the nanites.

23

David pushed his plate out of the way. The meal was half eaten, as his appetite wasn’t what it usually was. Everything was off. Just over a week remained until the arrival of the nanite swarm. Frantic preparations continued unabated and would until the absolute last moment. He was sure that thirty minutes before the hive dropped out of folded space, another Zeivlot destroyer would leave the shipyard and head for its position.

“Are you okay?” Bo’hai asked.

They were seated across from each other at the small dinner table in David’s quarters on the Lion. It had become a refuge to share the evening meal together there. He then usually worked half the night. “No.”

“Why not?” She smiled. “You have done all you can and continue to do so. There is nothing else you can ask of yourself or anyone else.”

“I have a difficult task tonight.”

“Oh?”

“It’s time for you to head to the Milky Way.” He held eye contact with her.

Bo’hai turned away. “I don’t want to go.”

“Salena, you… can’t add to this fight. Your skill set is languages. Translation isn’t going to win the day. Military force will.”

Her head snapped around. “I am a linguist, not a translator. You should know this by now.”

David blew out a breath. “I’m sorry.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “Me too. I don’t want to face raising our child alone.”

All the years he had avoided romantic relationships and having a family, precisely for that reason, reared their head and rhetorically smacked him in the face.

“I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay,” David replied. “But you have to understand it’s more than us now. Our child is on the way, and I can’t go into battle knowing that my wife and child will die if the Lion of Judah is destroyed.”

“Because it would…”

“Prevent me from doing my duty.” David finished for her. “The only way I can make the difficult choices is to know you’re both safe.”

Bo’hai didn’t speak for a while then reached her hand across the table, and he took it. “Where will I go?”

“To my mother’s house. I sent her a video message but haven’t gotten a response yet. That’s not unusual because the comm relay is completely overwhelmed, and I won’t abuse my rank to get civilian traffic moved up the line. I explained our marriage and that she will be a grandmother.”

“I’m sure that will be a shock.”

David grinned. “A good one. Do you know how many times she’s asked me when she’ll have a baby to hold in her arms again? I swear every time I go home, she tries to set me up with blind dates.”

Bo’hai giggled.

“And if I don’t make it, she will see that you and our child are well taken care of. The entire extended family will take you in.” Emotion welled up in David. As much as he wanted to remain strong and stoic, he couldn’t. Tears formed in his eyes.

Bo’hai began to cry, releasing gut-wrenching sobs.

David sprang from his seat and squatted beside her as he wrapped his arms around her. “It’s going to be okay.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I promise you with everything in my being, if it’s possible, I will return to you.”

Bo’hai touched David’s cheek and ran her fingers through his tears. “The only reason I will consent to this is because of the life I carry. If it were not for our child, I would have no desire to face another day without you or my people.”

He stood and gently tugged her arm. “Let’s go sit together.”

“And cuddle?”

“Yes.”

“Would it hurt the great military leader David Cohen to use that word?”

David’s cheeks heated in spite of the sadness. “No, I suppose not. Come.”

When moving from orbit to planetside or anywhere a large vessel wasn’t called for, the president of the Terran Coalition had a unique craft known as Shuttle One at his or her disposal. It had a small Lawrence drive integrated, redundant communications equipment, and an escape pod. The shuttle was probably the most over-engineered thing the CDF had ever produced.

Justin didn’t use it all that often but still enjoyed the feeling of pulling Gs in the vacuum, a vestige of being a fighter jockey that had never left his being. He’d considered wearing a flight suit for the trip but decided against the image that would send. The president of the Terran Coalition isn’t usually a combatant. Above all, I’m an elected leader. Still, Justin was surprised by how little fear he felt for flying a combat mission. I guess it really is like riding a bike.

The gruff voice of General MacIntosh broke the quiet as they accelerated from Coalition Force One, the president’s specialized vessel. “This is a bad idea, sir. It was a bad idea two weeks ago, and it still is.”

“We’ll have to agree to disagree, Andrew.”

“You could get yourself killed.”

“Like all these other young men and women?”

MacIntosh made a face. “I hate to say it, sir, but you’re our leader. As tragic as all our other losses are and will be, what do we tell the nation if you fall in battle?”

“That Edwardo Fuentes is the new president.”

“You’re being an idealistic fool.”

Justin grinned. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“I’ve considered resigning.”

That got Justin’s attention. He knew MacIntosh didn’t approve of either the intervention or his agreeing to fly a combat sortie, but to resign would indicate a profound inability to accept the orders given. “I didn’t realize you were that disturbed.”

“Ultimately, I can’t let a friend put his life on the line without joining him, as stupid as it may be.”

“It won’t be stupid if we win.”

“‘If’ being the operative word, sir. And any way you slice it, a lot of good men and women will die.”

Justin bit his lip. “There are always too many. One is too many. But that price must be paid because fighting for what’s right is worth the cost. It must be.”

“It’s not our fight.”

“If you came upon an elderly woman being assaulted by a group of thugs in Lawrence City, would you walk away or intervene?”

MacIntosh raised an eyebrow. “I’d find out if any of the physical training I do and my muscle memory from thirty-four years of service counted for anything in a street fight.”

“Then you understand my perspective.”

“It’s not the same, sir, and you know it.”

“Would you object to my course of action if there were fourteen billion Terrans about to be slaughtered?”

“No. They’d be our citizens, and the first duty of any CDF officer is to defend the Coalition against any enemies foreign and domestic. Don’t tell me that what Cohen did to grant them citizenship has any legal weight, either, because we both know it doesn’t.”

“You’re a bit more forthright than usual, Andrew.”

MacIntosh blew out a breath. “Idealism can be dangerous. I know it’s in your blood and Cohen’s. If we left it up to him, the Coalition would invade half the galaxy to right their wrongs. After all these years, I’m all for defending every inch of our space, but there’s got to be a compelling strategic reason for me to ever back military action elsewhere.”

Justin wished more than anything he could tell his old friend the truth. But there was no way to without making himself seem insane. “Protecting these lives is a compelling reason,” he said quietly. “And I believe we will emerge victorious and stronger for it as both a nation and an alliance.”

“I pray you’re right, sir. And while I strongly disagree, I will carry out your orders to the best of my ability.”

“Thank you, Andrew.”

MacIntosh inclined his head. “Five minutes from landing.”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been on the flight deck of a carrier.”

“Just remember the basics, and don’t call the crew chief sir.”

Justin snickered. “I’m not that out of touch.”

The pilot’s smooth approach and the technological wizardry of the inertial dampening systems meant Justin could barely tell the craft was landing. A few minutes later, the only notable change was a thud as they set down.

A protective service agent stuck his head into the compartment. “Sir, we’re all clear, and the Lion of Judah is ready to receive you.”

Justin sprang from the oversized reclining seat. “Let’s go, Andrew. I don’t want to keep anyone waiting.”

MacIntosh replied with a grunt, and all three exited through the hatch. A short walk later led to the aft passenger ramp, which was already lowered and locked into place.

The familiar sound of a CDF band echoed through the massive hangar, the alloy providing unusually sharp acoustics that seemed to amplify the volume. Four renditions of ruffles and flourishes sounded along with the time-honored “Hail to the Chief.” Once they finished, Justin stepped onto the deck. In front of him was a row of aviation ratings in brightly colored uniforms. He brought his hand to his brow, and they all did the same.

Justin walked through the eight enlisted soldiers in alternating white, blue, purple, and red jackets before returning his hand to his side. Military protocol. That’s like riding a bike, for sure.

General David Cohen and Colonels Amir, Demood, and Aibek stood at the end of the line. All four came to attention and saluted.

“Permission to come aboard, General?” Justin asked.

David flashed a small smile. “Granted, sir, and welcome. General MacIntosh, welcome aboard as well, sir.”

Arrayed throughout the flight deck were thousands of the Lion of Judah’s personnel in neatly spaced rows. Justin was impressed by their senior enlisted soldiers. This wasn’t done in five minutes. “Thank you. It’s been too long since I’ve been on the Lion, General.” He turned and waved to each side of the deck.

The action caused a wave of cheers from every soldier. The noise was deafening and took fifteen seconds to die down.

David gestured toward a series of hatches on the port side. “Mr. President, we’ve got refreshments for you in the VIP conference room, if you’d care to head that way. My senior officers will join us to discuss security arrangements, bunking options, and what you’ll be flying.”

“Lead the way,” Justin replied.

It didn’t take long to cross the sea of enlisted ratings, who melted away as the entourage of close protection agents and senior officers strode through the hangar. All the while, loud and persistent elements of the crew shouted, “CDF! CDF! CDF!”

As the hatch shut behind them and the group entered the passageway to the VIP section usually used by visiting dignitaries, Justin turned to David. “Your crew is seemingly ready to fight, General.”

“We’ve known these people, the Zeivlots and Zavlots, for several years. The fleet isn’t willing to let them suffer the same fate as other worlds beset by the nanites.”

“I read the report on the planet you observed that was… overrun.”

David stopped. “An antiseptic way of describing it, Mr. President. Of all the things I’ve witnessed, it was the worst. I still have nightmares of that day, and so do many others.”

Justin pursed his lips. “Trust me when I say I have some idea of what you’ve gone through.”

“Given your service record, I know that to be true, sir.”

“Then please accept that from my perspective, you and the entire fleet have done an incredible job under dire circumstances.”

“Thank you, but… it’s not enough. The only just outcome is that we defeat this evil once and for all.” David gestured to a hatch. “Through here, please.”

All but one of the protective service agents remained outside the conference room. Justin would’ve preferred to travel with none of them, as a Coalition Defense Force vessel was probably the safest place for him in the galaxy in terms of one-on-one contact. But the director of their detail had overruled that suggestion immediately.

Everyone waited until Justin sat to join him at the expansive table, which could’ve easily accommodated twenty-five people.

The pomp and circumstance quickly got on Justin’s nerves, and he held up a hand. “I’d like to say something before we get started. While I recognize I’m the commander-in-chief, I expect to be treated like any other pilot for the duration of this mission.”

“It’s not quite that simple, sir,” David replied.

“Why not?” Aibek asked. “This warrior is uninterested in anything except unsheathing his blade to fight the enemy. Such is noble and should be respected.”

Justin inclined his head at Aibek. “Thank you, Colonel.”

“Be that as it may, you’re still the president of the Terran Coalition, sir,” David said with a glance at his XO. “And I’m not interested in having you lost on my watch.”

“Don’t waste your breath,” MacIntosh interjected. “I just had that conversation with him, and it went in one ear and out the other.”

Justin put his hands on the table. “Gentlemen, all I need is a bunk to lay my head and the name of my wingman. In the last two weeks, I completed the qualifier for an SF-106 Phantom, and I’m ready to fight. However, if any squadron could spare a fighter, I’d love to go out for a spin, as sims only prepare one so far.”

“I’m sure Colonel Amir can make that happen, sir.”

“Then assign me a wingman, and we’re good.” Justin sat back. Their unease was apparent, but he hoped to get through it until his presence wasn’t as jarring.

Amir glanced between David and Justin. “Sir, I would be honored to serve as your wingman and do my utmost to ensure you return safely.”

Well, that was unexpected. “Planning to fly this op, too, Colonel?”

“Yes, sir.”

Justin nodded. “Then the honor of flying with you would be mine. I’ve read of your exploits. They give even my old CAG a run for his money… and Major Whatley was among the best in the business.”

“Thank you, sir,” Amir replied.

David glanced between MacIntosh and Justin. “General, should I prepare VIP guest quarters for you as well?”

“No. I’ll be transiting over to the CSV Abraham Lincoln. In the likely event of this engagement going south, having multiple spokes on the chain of command is prudent.”

Justin couldn’t wave the tension out of the way with a few choice words. His advisors were divided, most of the CDF’s senior leadership was wholeheartedly against what they were about to do, and he felt most of the time as if he were on an island all by himself. “Yes, quite so, Andrew.”

“Is there anything else we can do for you, Mr. President?”

Justin shook his head. “No, General Cohen. I know you and your officers have a war to run.”

“Sadly, we do. Master Chief Tinetariro is waiting to escort you and any of your staffers to guest quarters, and she’ll also show you to dining accommodations. We’re trying to keep you separate from the rest of the ship’s company as much as possible.”

“That won’t be necessary. I’d prefer to eat with the pilots… first mess on the hangar, if tradition still serves?”

Amir nodded. “It does. Along with stacks of twenty-four-hour nutrition bars.”

Justin made a face. “Those things were awful thirty years ago.”

“They still are.”

They laughed, then Justin stood. “Thank you all. I look forward to serving with you in this dire hour.”

Everyone else jumped out of their seats.

“Likewise, sir. History will always remember what we do here… validating the Terran Coalition as a shining city on the hill.”

“I’ve long since learned not to trust historians, General, but your point is well made. We must hope it’s worth the cost.”

“Yes.”

“Carry on, ladies and gentlemen. Godspeed.” Justin turned on his heel and walked out. Lord, please help me not to screw this up.

24

ISV Liberator

Zeivlot Orbit—High Loop Seven

18 September 2466

Admiral James Henry stared at the holographic display of Zeivlot on the central holotank of his flagship. It had been some time since he’d taken direct command of the fleet, as growing pains with the Independent Systems Federation kept him riding a desk most days. Who am I kidding? It’s more like most months. I’m lucky if I get a surprise inspection once a quarter.

“Orbit established, Admiral,” Captain Ling Trang, the Liberator’s commanding officer, announced.

“And the rest of the fleet?”

“Being directed to different rally points per the prebrief from General Cohen’s staff, sir.”

Henry nodded absent-mindedly. He’d been surprised beyond belief when the Alliance council voted to join the SATO expeditionary force to Sextans B. While discovering that the Lion of Judah had survived was a shock, that David Cohen had set himself to righting the wrongs of another galaxy hadn’t been. Every time I’ve interacted with the general, I’ve found him to be honest to a fault, aboveboard, and someone who lives what he claims to believe. If only the Joint Chiefs of Staff and politicians of the Terran Coalition were cut from the same cloth.

Then again, Justin Spencer had volunteered to fly a combat sortie, and if the hype was to be believed, he planned to be in the final battle against the nanite horde.

Perhaps I’m a bit too hard on my homeland. Whatever his differences with the Coalition, Henry knew it was full of good, decent people. Just like the Alliance.

“Sir?”

Henry snapped out of his thoughts and turned to Trang. “Sorry. I didn’t catch what you said.”

“Incoming transmission, sir. General Cohen sends his compliments and requests a private vidlink.”

“I’ll take it in your office.” Henry stood.

“Comms will send it back that way immediately, sir.”

With a final nod, Henry turned and walked off the bridge. Despite being a military vessel, given the construction pedigree from the Rigault Heavy Industries, the Liberator had many luxury touches that wouldn’t be found on a CDF, Saurian, or Matrinid vessel. Come to think of it, I’ve never seen the inside of a Matrinid ship. He doubted many humans had.

Five minutes later, he was seated behind a terminal in Trang’s office and awaiting the vidlink to the Lion of Judah. The screen came alive with an image of David Cohen, who appeared to be in his day cabin. Funny how some things never change, like that display of model ships on the wall behind him.

“Admiral, good to talk to you again. I wasn’t sure our paths would ever cross.”

Henry found David’s smile infectious and returned it. “Since you were stuck in a galaxy four and a half million light-years from the Milky Way, and we all thought you were dead, that was a pretty good assumption.”

David chuckled. “Yes, I’ve heard that a lot. Well, we’ll get some time to catch up once this is over.”

“I’d like that. Quite the impressive fleet you’ve put together here.”

“Your additions will help round it out. I noticed you’re very escort heavy. Destroyers, frigates, corvettes with a few extra guns on them.”

Henry nodded. “It’s the nature of the Alliance. Most of these worlds can’t field capital ships. But a few do, and we brought the Beja.”

David closed his eyes and stretched his neck. “Yes, and according to the documentation I received, she was refitted with Coalition mag cannons and advanced neutron beams.”

“That would be right, General. SATO has been sharing military technology and hardware, with an eye toward standardizing our platforms so that they’re interchangeable.”

“If they can pull it off to any degree, I’ll be impressed.” David snorted. “Considering the CDF and TCMC have replicated virtually every logistical function a military force could need, I doubt it.”

Henry laughed. “We love our fiefdoms, don’t we?”

“It’s been that way for centuries.” David shrugged. “Don’t hate the player. Hate the game, I suppose.”

“Perhaps.” Henry pursed his lips. “I know you’re just back and not focusing on it, but SATO’s the best thing to happen to Sagittarius since, well… ever. All of humanity, the Saurian Empire, and even the Matrinid, working together. It’s something else to behold.”

“Excepting the League, of course.”

“Yes. Well, checking the League’s power is one of the prime objectives. Though I hope we’ll become partners even with them in time.”

David’s face clouded. “The only Leaguers I’m interested in seeing are defeated ones. Perhaps our combined strength will eventually force peaceful political change on Earth. But eliminating communism from the universe is a goal I will always share.”

“Perhaps God will allow us to achieve that without further bloodshed.”

“Forgive me. I still harbor anger over how things ended. We should’ve driven on to Earth, not signed a treaty. But it’s not my job to make the policies… only to implement lawful orders.”

“Same here, General.”

“You ever wonder if the galaxy would look different if men and women who know the price of war set the policy?”

Henry tilted his head. “Probably, but having the military in charge wouldn’t work long term, and we both know that.”

David sighed. “Yes. I do. But after my last experience with Coalition politics, I’m a bit more pessimistic than usual. However, credit where credit is due. President Spencer turned it around. Okay. Enough jaw-jacking.”

“Where do you want us? Let me guess—our escorts will be split up to support the main fleet.”

Grinning, David said, “Sounds like you’ve done this before, Admiral.”

“Once or twice.”

“Obviously, I want you to maintain enough support for the capital ships you’ve brought, but those point-defense frigates will be especially useful. We’ve still got a lot of work to do in refitting everything to use the modified neutron beams, too, so I ask you to push your crews as hard as possible.”

“We came to work and fight, General.” Henry flashed a smile.

David shook his head. “Some of your ships still show as piracy flagged on our sensors. Outdated information, I know. Things have changed, haven’t they?”

“They have. For the better.”

“How about a toast together, on the Lion of Judah, once it’s all over?”

“Done.”

“Then I’ll leave you to it, Admiral. Godspeed to you and yours.”

“Godspeed to you, too, General Cohen.”

The feed faded to black, and Henry sat back. Fighting the nanites would be the first true test of the SATO alliance. Sure, they’d stood strong against the Jalm’tar, but the Sextans B situation was different. It was all hands on deck with the use of Article Five. Something deep within said they would answer the call, though, and James Henry, as sure as he was alive and aboard the ISV Liberator, believed the hand of God was at work around them all.

In the times of old, the Saurian Emperor personally commanded the flagship of the Royal Saurian Navy, or so the scrolls of history claimed. Obe Sherazi discounted such things as myths created to ensure the young respected their elders. He found it ironic that he was living out such fantasies in the real world.

“Chief Minister?” Sardar Ihejirika asked. The youngster had been with him for almost seven years.

At some point, I should no longer think of him as a child. Yet as I grow older, what I consider youthful ages too. “What?”

“I was asking if you had reviewed my polling matrix.”

Democracy. This human invention. I sometimes long for the old days as well. “No.”

“Sauria First has made surprising gains.”

Sherazi grasped a glass of water and took a sip before setting it back down on the table before him. They were in the quarters reserved for the head of state on the RSN Resit Kartal, the fleet’s flagship. It was probably the largest warship the Saurian Empire would build without antimatter power generation technology, which the humans were only beginning to make available to their SATO allies under license.

The terms were onerous, including having Terran Coalition engineers involved in all aspects of the project. He had mixed feelings. While some if not many humans were honorable, Sherazi detested the idea of having them involved in the defense of the empire. Yet the government had made the decision to accept their terms because not having antimatter reactors was a nonstarter. Plans for a new class of battleship with nearly twice the armaments of the Kartal were already on the drawing board.

“Does this not concern you, Chief Minister?”

Sherazi cackled and showed both rows of his teeth. “Why should it?”

Ihejirika stared at him as if he’d gone insane. “Because if they gain enough numbers, they can win a vote of no confidence. You could be challenged to ritual combat.”

“You are young, so I will forgive your transgression, Sardar. We are about to go into combat, yes?”

Ihejirika nodded.

“One of two things will happen. Either we will triumph, and I will return to Sauria as a conqueror, or we will fail, and I will not return at all because I will be dead along with everyone else on this ship. Either way, Sauria First will no longer be a concern of mine.”

Silence followed before Ihejirika also cackled. “I see your point, Chief Minister. For my sake, I hope it is the former, as I have no desire to face the afterlife so soon.”

“Of course not, for you have yet to earn your right to enter as a warrior.”

“You know I am not a warrior, Chief Minister.”

“We are all warriors, Sardar. You fight with words. I once fought with my blade, and now I, too, use words and laws. It is nothing to feel shame for. The Prophet honors all righteous combat.”

“I still do not understand why you consort with these… humans. Their alliance has its uses, but it does not make sense to me to wage combat in a distant galaxy.”

Sherazi sipped his water. “Is not the righteousness of the cause enough for you?”

“No. It does not benefit our empire.”

“Do they not teach the Prophet’s words any longer? The strong are directed to protect the weak.”

Ihejirika stared at him. “You were against helping them until the last conversation with their leader. What changed?”

“President Spencer reminded me of his honor, and in so doing, I realized that many humans share our collective drive to defend those who cannot defend themselves.” Sherazi set down the glass and turned to Ihejirika. “If you are looking for a more pragmatic reason, then let it be this: standing with SATO establishes the Saurian Empire once more as a preeminent power in the Milky Way. Should we carry the day, it will open new trade routes, colonization opportunities, and economic growth. These are things we desperately need.”

“There is more to it.”

Sherazi narrowed his eyes. Yes, the youngster was right. “When you gain time in the universe, increase your perspective, and know better which questions to ask of life, what I am about to say will make sense. I feel honorable. We are about to fight a battle solely because it is right. That is not something any of us can say often.”

Ihejirika shrugged. “Perhaps I will understand better with age, as you say, Chief Minister. Because now, I can only look and say we are wasting our warriors’ lives and treasure.”

“And this is why I am the chief minister and you have much to learn.”

Ihejirika hissed, “You are being sentimental.”

Sherazi hefted the glass once more. “I have earned the right to be.”

The aide hissed again, and Sherazi reflected on why he kept him around. Because he challenges me. Even if I find some of his opinions absurd, it is good not to have yes-lizards all around me. The thought of being done with his political enemies for at least some period of time, regardless of the battle’s outcome, was quite comforting. What is it humans say? A silver lining in every cloud.

25

David’s harsh alarm blared at oh one thirty hours. He jerked awake, barely remembering the fleeting image of a dream. Given the projection of the nanites arriving in the middle of the early morning, he’d decided to adjust his schedule a few days prior to be as fresh as possible. It had been hard to fall asleep, doubly so since Bo’hai no longer joined him. He’d slept alone his entire life, but having the closeness of another person was a treasure. An old soldier like me doesn’t need comfort, though. What we all need today is HaShem’s help to come out the other side alive.

He sprang out of his bunk and performed the Shema before powering through the usual morning ritual of exercise, bathing, and a light breakfast. Munching on an egg sandwich that barely passed for kosher, much less edible, David felt darkly amused that it was possibly his last meal.

Shortly before oh three hundred hours, he emerged from the gravlift on deck one.

Both Marine sentries came to attention and saluted.

David acknowledged them with a respectful nod as he walked through the portal into the bridge.

“General on the bridge!” Master Chief Tinetariro bellowed.

“As you were,” David said as everyone who wasn’t strapped into their harnesses brought their hands to their brows. He tugged his Lion of Judah ballcap on as he spoke. To his surprise, Aibek was already in the XO’s chair. “This is General Cohen. I have the conn.”

“General Cohen has the conn. Aye,” Aibek hissed, following the formal tradition. “All systems normal, sir. The ship is ready for combat action.”

David eased himself into the CO’s chair. “Wouldn’t have expected anything less, my friend.”

Tension filled the air. David could almost taste the emotion, but it was akin to a desire to get on with the inevitable rather than fear. We’ve prepared for two years. It all comes down to the next few hours. Out of the corner of his eye, he realized that Hayworth and Markul were present. Both sat at the console the doctor had made his own during their time in Sextans B.

“Good morning, Dr. Hayworth.”

“Likewise.” He hefted a mug of CDF coffee. “This… liquid is disgusting. If we survive, I’m including gourmet brews in my grant renewals.”

The doctor’s comments brought guffaws from around the bridge, including David.

“Doctor, if that’s our biggest problem after this battle, I’ll be a happy man.”

Minutes marched on as the rest of the first watch arrived and replaced the third-watch rotation.

David closed his eyes for a moment. “TAO, populate the board.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

He turned to see masses of blue dots and icons unlike there had ever been on the Lion’s main holotank. “That’s a lot of ships.”

“More than a thousand plus close to five thousand combat small craft,” Ruth replied. “Think we’ll ever see a fleet like this again, sir?”

David sobered. “Let us pray we do not, except at an exercise, Captain.”

The number of ships was awe-inspiring. As far as the eye could see through the windows at the front of the bridge, Coalition, Saurian, and Matrinid vessels stretched. Intermixed with the easy-to-recognize designs was a hodgepodge of human-made ships from the ISF.

We’re witnessing history here as these different races unite to be part of something bigger than them. It filled David with hope. He stood and strode over to the communications station, where a metal box was marked 1MC. A cross between an antique and a nod to days long since past, it held a microphone that automatically activated the all-spaces, all-compartments intercom. While David could easily use the one on his chair, there was something special about the old-style device.

“Lieutenant Taylor, patch me into the fleet.”

“Aye, aye, sir. Mic’s live.”

David picked the microphone out of its cradle and held it to his lips. “Attention, all ships. This is Major General Cohen, commanding the CSV Lion of Judah. Most of us here today are far from the comfort of our homes. Except for our Zeivlot and Zavlot allies. This is their home. Possibly the most destructive force our races have ever faced will drop out of folded space in less than two hours. Our job is to stop these nanites then defeat and eradicate the gray goo before it can destroy fourteen billion innocent lives.

“This task isn’t going to be easy. Too many of our people will make the ultimate sacrifice today.” David’s gaze swept the bridge. “But saving countless lives is worth the cost. We will protect these planets and send a message to both the Milky Way and Sextans B that the Sagittarius Arm Treaty Organization honors its commitments, and above all, we will defend the defenseless. To my CDF brethren, this phrase will evoke many memories. To those who haven’t heard it, the Coalition Defense Force never stood down, not even in the face of overwhelming odds. Today, we will fight the good fight, no matter the odds. May God bless our actions here today, and may He watch over us in all the dark places we must walk. Godspeed to you all. Cohen out.”

David clicked the mic off before turning to Taylor. “Put me on shipwide 1MC, Lieutenant.”

“You’re on, sir.”

Toggling the device on once more, David held it to his lips. “Attention, all hands. This is General Cohen. General quarters. General quarters. Man your battle stations. I say again, man your battle stations. Set condition one throughout the ship. This is not a drill. I repeat, this is not a drill.”

Dim blue lights bathed the bridge, and a klaxon sounded a few times. Belowdecks, its piercing wail would blast in every compartment for five minutes.

David returned the microphone to its holder. “XO, alert the air boss to prepare all combat spacecraft for ready five.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” Aibek replied.

The following two hours would be the longest of David’s life.

It had been thirty years since Justin Spencer wore a flight suit, but putting it on still felt like second nature in the Lion of Judah’s locker room. However, it wasn’t the same as the Zvika Greengold. The facilities were far more opulent than the old training carrier he’d served on. For one, each pilot got a separate shower stall and locker. Such luxury was unheard of on a Thane-class escort carrier. But the camaraderie was the same. So was the feeling of butterflies in his stomach as he checked the seals on his suit.

He wasn’t the only one who’d thought to prepare ahead of time. Most other pilots in the Lion’s wing had already completed preparations for ready-thirty alert status. His protective service detail, ever vigilant, had insisted on having as few people with the president as possible.

Just like he would have thirty years ago, Justin went through his mental checklist before clipping the helmet to his waist and nodding to the lead agent.

She lifted her wrist and spoke. “Eagle en route to hangar bay.”

Justin strode by her, through the hatch, and into the passageway beyond.

Without warning, speakers embedded throughout the walls erupted with sound. “Attention, all pilots. Assume ready-five status. Repeat, all pilots assume ready-five status.”

Justin and the others raced down the corridor in an orderly fashion. The urgent call was a drill he would never forget. Once through the double hatch into the flight deck, the space aviators spread out, each headed toward his or her craft. Justin ran as hard as he could toward fighter slip thirty-eight alpha, where his Phantom awaited. Beside it, Colonel Amir’s craft sat ready for action.

Aviation ratings were in the middle of a final inspection and loading a cart full of missiles. The crew chief, a burly senior chief petty officer, came to attention. “Didn’t expect you so soon, Mr. President.”

“As you were, Chief. I was already suited up. Done this a time or two.”

The man grinned. “Yes, sir. Everything’s ready for you. Just climb up the ladder when you’re ready and get settled in.”

Justin took in the contours of the craft and how polished it looked compared to his recollection of an SF-86 Sabre. Then he realized the maintenance team had painted his name under the canopy opening, as was tradition. Beneath President Justin Spencer was a string of religious and planetary symbols. They honored each pilot lost in the Red Tails squadron under his command, back in the opening days of the war against the League of Sol.

Memories rushed into Justin’s head of telling his crew chief back then not to mark his kills but instead, those they lost. Emotion welled up as he took in the dozens of patches. Justin reached out and touched the last four, representing Adeoye, Mateus, Lowell, and Whatley. He fought to maintain his stoicism.

“Did we get it right, sir?”

Justin nodded slowly. “Yes, perfectly. Thank you for honoring my lost comrades. I pray our losses today will be light.”

“You and me both, sir.”

Justin took a deep breath. “There will be time to reminisce afterward. Until then, we’ve got jobs to do.”

“Yes, sir!”

“Godspeed, Chief,” Justin replied before grabbing the lowest rung and pulling himself up. His body had aged since the last time he’d done it, but he still had little difficulty swinging up and over into the Phantom’s cockpit.

Once in the seat, he strapped in and double-checked the harness to ensure it was properly locked. It’s been too long. Justin stared at the multitude of flight controls, instrument panels, and screens in front of him. Did I make the wrong choice all those years ago? Would I have contributed more from behind the flight stick? Even though he knew his path was the one he was supposed to take, the question still remained.

Justin pulled a small picture out of his flight suit. It was an old-fashioned print, though such things were constantly in vogue as being retro. He liked it because it could be easily placed between control panels. And reminds me of what I have to look forward to when I make it home. The image was a family photo of his wife, Michelle, and their four children.

He put his helmet on and sealed it in before connecting to his fighter’s life support system.

“Mr. President, are you ready for preflight?”

“Yes, Chief. Ready to go. Initiating start-up sequence now.”

Justin toggled the master power switch, and the Phantom powered up. The controls came alive as indicators and screens turned on. “Reactor online. Output normal.”

An old tradition came to his mind, from his last days as a fighter pilot. Therefore, take unto you the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day and, having done all, stand. Mentally reciting the scripture had always calmed Justin’s nerves and strengthened him.

“Flare and chaff dispensers online. Defense drones active.” Stand therefore, having your loins girt about with truth.

“Thrusters active.” Take the breastplate of righteousness.

Justin searched for the ECM display before popping two master controls. “Electronic countermeasure systems energized. All readings nominal.” And your feet shod with the preparation of the gospel of peace.

The next step slipped from his mind only to surface a second later. Defensive systems. “Deflectors online. Both generators fully charged.” Above all, take the shield of faith, that you will be able to quench the fiery darts of the wicked.

Justin’s gaze went to the weapons systems, and he flipped several switches upward. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the spirit, which is the word of God. “Neutron cannons and missile system in standby mode.” Finally, my brethren, be strong in the Lord and in the power of His might.

“Mr. President.” Amir’s voice cut in via the commlink.

“Go ahead, Colonel.”

“We’re going to go with call signs Alpha One through Four for our element. If that meets with your approval, sir.”

Justin closed his eyes briefly. “Sounds good to me, Colonel. Been a long time since I’ve been Alpha One.”

“Remember our last training flight, sir. Stay on the ball.”

“Always.” Justin grinned. “Now, we get to sit here until somebody decides we should launch.”

“Yes, sir. Long hours of boredom come with the job.”

“Was like that back in my day, too, Colonel.” Justin stared at the picture of his family. Lord, help me to do what I need to here and allow all of us to return home. As much as he wanted to believe that what he prayed for was possible, a butcher’s bill was coming, and it would be high—far higher than he would ever wish the Coalition or any other civilization to pay.

26

The massive swarm glided out of folded space and blinked into existence approximately one hundred eighteen million kilometers from the fourth planet in the target solar system. Unlike an artificially generated wormhole, the void didn’t tear itself open. In fact, there was little effect beyond the sphere appearing. If an observer were looking at it, all they would’ve seen was the background stars blurring as the transition completed.

The distance was just far enough to ensure no trap awaited, as the swarm had horrible memories of its near destruction at the hands of its Optami creators so many years ago.

There are far more space-going vessels than last surveyed. The hive mind processed real-time sensor data and realized that many of the designs were unknown to them. These life-forms were able to find others to assist them. Curious.

It only took a few more seconds to process the combat capabilities of the warships arrayed around the artifact-containing world. Fusion reactors. Only a few have antimatter power. These vessels cannot stand against us.

More data came in, and the hive was finally shocked. An active wormhole connected to a nearby galaxy. The interloper species—humanity—must have found a way to activate it.

Still, an extragalactic wormhole, while impressive, wasn’t a weapon. So the swarm moved forward, its objective at long last in sight. Nothing would stop it from its goal.

David tugged down his black knit space sweater over his khaki duty uniform. While it wasn’t supposed to be cold on a starship, he usually felt chilly. It could be all in my head. Who knows. Sizable numbers of people had the same reaction, which had led the CDF decades ago to authorize the sweater.

The action was almost involuntary as David stared at the tactical plot. The moon-size nanite hive loomed like a specter come to bring about universal Armageddon. The bridge crew seemed to hold their breath, leaving every click to echo in the dimly lit control center.

“It is smaller than I expected,” Aibek hissed.

Nervous laughter came from a few ratings behind them.

“What were you hoping for? Blue-giant size?”

“The larger they grow, the bigger they fall, yes?”

“Supposedly,” David replied. His XO’s use of dry humor was almost always appreciated. Nothing disarms fear like a good joke.

More than a thousand icons represented friendly warships on the tactical plot. In all his time in uniform, David had never seen so many vessels in one place. Even at the height of the League of Sol war, the most the CDF and the RSN could muster was five hundred.

He’d planned for a significant enveloping action with three main wings. The nanites would probably rush pell-mell for Zeivlot, and they had to cover a lot of space. Their formation was flexible enough to collapse on itself if the nanites massed for a single breakthrough point or stretched out to protect a larger area. But nothing survives first contact with the enemy.

“Conn, TAO. Aspect change, Master One. Numerous new contacts detaching from the, uh, moon, sir,” Ruth interjected.

It’s not entirely cut-and-dried like a squadron of League bombers launching from a carrier, after all. David felt strange. The final battle had arrived, and while he’d experienced apprehension and even anxiety over the previous weeks, all had disappeared. His calm, calculated tactical evaluation of the battlefield before them was the only thing left. “Best guess as to how many, Captain?”

“Thousands, maybe tens of thousands, sir. The computer is still cataloging. I think… Wait. Three different types of ships.”

David exchanged glances with Aibek. “That’s different from our last combat. Characteristics?”

“One of them is roughly the size of our space-superiority fighters, sir. The others are larger. Scanners can’t penetrate the outer hull.”

Just like before. The nanite forms were ciphers that withheld their secrets to the very end. David stroked his chin. “Pinpoint the ratios of each, and feed it to the tactical plot.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

Thousands of red dots spread out from the central hive. David stared at the holotank and examined the view from every possible angle. This is similar to how they devoured the planet we observed them at in real time. Perhaps they don’t have different tactics beyond how many ships they split into.

“Conn, TAO. At least fifteen thousand fighter-size contacts and a total of eight thousand contacts of ship size, sir.”

“There is no shortage of enemies to slay,” Aibek hissed.

David bit his lip. “Three-to-one odds on our Phantoms.”

“Yet what other choice do we have but to commit them? The sheer volume of craft will overwhelm our point-defense systems.”

He’s right, and I know it. David realized that after the battle, he would have much soul-searching to do because of the losses they were about to take. “Tell the air boss to get everything we’ve got into the void now, XO.” He turned back to Taylor. “Communications, signal to all carriers to launch their fighters.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” Taylor replied.

David blew out a breath and put his hands on his armrests. “Navigation, ahead one half. Bring us to rally point delta. Communications, send same to all ships.” He glanced at the tactical plot. It looks like a plague of locusts heading to devour this planet. Not if we can help it.

As the Lion of Judah moved forward and the view out the forward bridge windows changed, David bowed his head and whispered in Hebrew, “HaShem, if it is Your will, spare my crew and all those who fight here today. Let them return safely to their family and friends.” He briefly debated before adding, “And please, HaShem, grant us victory over this vile enemy that destroys the innocent and entire worlds. Let us, if it is Your will, erase it from the universe so that it will harm no more of Your creations. Amen.”

“May the Prophet guide our blades,” Aibek hissed softly.

David nodded at him before turning his gaze back to the tactical plot. Soon, the battle would begin.

Spending extended periods at ready five was the bane of any pilot’s existence. It had always been that way. Though Justin had to admit the Phantom was an improvement in many ways, including comfort. The pilot’s chair, especially, was far less painful after an hour than he remembered.

“Air Boss to all squadron leaders. Stand by to launch. Alpha element, first in line. I say again, launch, launch, launch.”

Just like old times, adrenaline coursed through Justin’s bloodstream, and he gripped the flight stick tightly with his right hand, while the left went for the throttle. “This is Alpha One. Ready for power-up.”

Off to the side of the Phantom, the crew chief, in his distinctive brown vest, gave the thumbs-up followed by a salute.

Justin returned both gestures before engaging fifty percent thrust. The fighter punched forward into the void, followed quickly by Amir’s Phantom.

After completing a final check of flight systems, Justin keyed his commlink. “Alpha One in the void. Alpha flight, form on my wing.”

Three more craft slid into a finger-four formation, the preferred flight element for the CDF.

“Alpha Two to Alpha One,” Amir said through static. “Grim Reapers squadron has launched.”

“Roger, Alpha Two. Maintain orbital flight while we wait for tasking.”

It took a lot longer to get almost two hundred combat spacecraft into the void than the thirty-six the Zvika Greengold had carried. Though we hardly ever put all of them up in any one engagement. All around them, the fleet carriers of the Terran Coalition, Saurian Empire, and Matrinid Combine launched thousands of fighters, while Zeivlot and Zavlot deployed the Phantom fleet that had been built over the last year. All told, they had five thousand–plus friendly fast movers.

Masses of red dots representing the nanite forms came into focus at the maximum range of the onboard tactical sensors. My God, there’s… I can’t even count. Justin thought it looked like the entire League armada three or four times over.

David’s voice cut through the commlink on the command override channel. “This is Major General Cohen to all wing and squadron commanders. Form up into flying-wedge formation as previously briefed, and engage the enemy. Godspeed, and good hunting.”

“You heard the general. Turn and burn, ladies and gentlemen,” Justin said after he’d cued the commlink to the Grim Reapers frequency.

Moving with surprising efficiency and swiftness for the forces of five separate species, the combined wings accelerated into the void. Phantoms formed the vanguard of their space-superiority fighter capabilities, covering the bombers and support craft.

As the distance closed, Justin realized that some of the nanite forms were a lot smaller than the ones previously reported by the Lion of Judah. As he stared at the data, it dawned on him that the swarm could generate other constructs on the fly. These must be optimized to fight opponents like us. He pushed the fear that welled up down as far as it would go, as every other pilot was probably doing.

Maybe I can help with that. He cued his commlink with a gold-level override. “Attention, all pilots. This is Alpha One… also known as President Justin Spencer. There’s no mistaking the target-rich environment we’re flying into right now, but that’s what we all trained for. I did it decades ago. You do it every day now. From our Saurian and Matrinid allies to the CDF and TCMC flyers all around me, this is what we do. Defend those who cannot defend themselves. Protect the innocent, and hold back the darkness. It’s an honor to fly with you today, and I couldn’t be prouder of our collective civilizations and the alliance we’ve built. Now, let’s send these nanites straight to hell, where they belong. Godspeed, and as the general said, good hunting. Alpha One out.”

All around him, Phantoms waggled their wings in salute, and Justin returned the gesture.

“That was well said, sir,” Amir told him on a private channel.

“Seemed like the right thing to say.”

“A few words of encouragement can go a long way.”

Justin glanced at the picture of his family. “My old CAG was great at dispensing those nuggets, usually in the form of sharply worded retorts to get out and fight.”

Amir laughed. The effect was distorted thanks to the comms effects. “He sounds like many I have served under and perhaps how my own pilots would describe me.”

“Yeah, funny how that works, isn’t it.”

The distance between them and the nanites’ screening force decreased rapidly. Targeting solutions flowed down from the tactical officers and network-centric-warfare algorithms in use across the fleet. Justin was amazed at just how much more advanced the systems were from when he’d fought the League. The triple drone launcher the Phantoms carried, with its ability to switch between defense and offense, was a welcome addition.

“Stand by for max range,” Justin said as he glanced between the expanded sensor readout and his HUD. A solid wall of blue dots approached their equal in red dots.

The lock-on tone sounded in the cockpit, and Justin instinctively squeezed the missile-launch button built into the flight stick. Two warheads dropped out of the onboard launcher, propelled by inert gas to get a few meters away from the Phantom.

Gel-fueled motors ignited, and both Vultures rocketed into the darkness of the void. They were joined by thousands of others. The glow was so intense that it was visible to the naked eye as it swept in front of their formation. At the extreme range, it took several minutes for the missiles to close with their intended targets.

To Justin’s immense surprise, the nanite constructs took no evasive maneuvers. They simply pressed on, resolute, like a perfectly arrayed force.

At last, the Vultures entered terminal homing range and began slamming into their quarries. Specially outfitted to provide for maximum EMP, blue pulses lit up the void. Justin stared at the sensor overlay, expecting to see major effects. But the nanite craft pressed forward, neither stopping nor slowing.

My God. We just threw one of our best weapons at them, and nothing happened. Justin’s mouth went dry. Have I led us all to our doom?

27

David blinked, unable to believe his eyes. When the massed wall of EMP warheads had virtually no effect on the onrushing nanite fighter-size constructs, it felt like he’d been punched in the gut by a heavyweight champion. He stroked his chin. “TAO, what went wrong?”

“I don’t know, sir. They just didn’t work.”

Hayworth spoke up. “They adapt. Perhaps someone tried that before. We saw at least one world launch nuclear weapons at the swarm.”

David’s mind went back to the horrific memory of watching an entire civilization consumed by the nanites almost two years prior. It brought anger to the forefront, but that wouldn’t do him any good at the moment. “We could pull our fighters back,” he said to Aibek.

“To what end? Without their screening our advance, the enemy will overwhelm us.”

“If they’re not combat effective, it doesn’t matter,” David replied. “I can’t leave five thousand pilots out there to die needlessly.”

“They would buy time.”

David blinked in surprise. He knew the honor code that Saurians lived by and that Aibek wouldn’t hesitate to sacrifice himself for the greater good. But that wasn’t how David viewed things. Every life was precious, and while losses were inevitable in combat, limiting them to the absolute lowest number was always his goal, right under winning. “Communications, get me Colonel Amir.”

“Sir, I’ve got an incoming audio-only transmission from President Spencer.”

“Put him on, Lieutenant.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

After a burst of static from the speakers in David’s chair, Justin’s voice came through. “General Cohen, do you read?”

“Loud and clear, Mr. President.”

“Upgraded Vultures didn’t work—”

“I know, sir. We need to pull the fast movers out and rearm with something else.”

“There isn’t time, nor do you have any other weapons.”

“We could try anti-ship warheads, sir.”

“Negative. I’ve got a better idea.”

“All ears, sir.”

David could almost see Justin grinning through the commlink. “We’ll close to dogfighting range and mix it up. Those fancy anti-nanite energy weapons should do the trick.”

“Mr. President, I strongly urge you to fall back. Point-blank range is exceptionally risky.”

“I understand, General. But it’s the only play I can think of, especially with how outnumbered we are.”

David gulped. He hated giving the go-ahead, but Justin was right. There was no other course of action. “Roger, sir. Godspeed, and good hunting.”

“Look on the bright side. It’s a target-rich environment, so less chance of our shots missing. Good luck, General, and see you on the flip side.”

David glanced at Aibek as the commlink cut off with a click. “This had better work.”

“If not, you will be charged with some crime. Surely, it must be illegal to get your leader killed.”

“Not quite the joke I was looking for, old friend.”

Aibek smiled. “But it is the one I gave you.”

David’s stomach churned as the blue dots representing the friendly fighters accelerated from their holding patterns. HaShem, watch over them.

The Phantom’s cockpit was silent as it hurtled through the void. The enemy wasn’t in visual range yet, so the only thing Justin could see was the moon-sized nanite swarm in the far distance, small enough that it appeared the size of a watermelon—if watermelons were made out of reflective gray alloy.

Occasionally interrupted by a commlink message, Justin focused on the wall of red approaching on the sensor screen, running different tactical scenarios through his mind.

He cued a private link to Amir. “Alpha One to Alpha Two.” While he hadn’t used the call sign in decades, it felt good to do it once more.

“Go ahead, sir.” The comm crackled with static.

More interference than usual. Probably something to do with the nanites. “I should’ve asked your opinion before committing the wing. What are your thoughts on how we should proceed, Colonel?”

“Allah favors those who boldly strike in His name. I, too, believe that a dogfight is our best hope for victory.”

Justin had studied some of the nose-camera footage and simulated engagements in Amir’s personnel file. They were impressive, to say the least. He’d give Gabriel Whatley a run for his money. Though he was sure the Zvika Greengold’s wily old CAG would’ve come out on top in a one-on-one matchup, he was glad to hear the agreement.

“Then we shall press on.”

“If I might make a suggestion, sir,” Amir said after a few moments. “I believe it would help to distract this foe. It does not yet understand our tactics, and we may use this against them.”

“What’d you have in mind, Colonel?”

“Another massed volley of Vultures. They won’t do much damage, but it might offer us some cover as we close in.”

Justin pursed his lips. “I like it. Stand by to reengage.” He flipped the commlink channel back to all wing commanders. “We’ve got a new game plan, courtesy of Colonel Amir. I want another round of EMP missiles sent toward the hostile fast movers before we push to max thrust and commence space-combat maneuvering.”

Green lights lit up across the screen as close to sixty separate CAGs signaled their understanding. That’s a lot of fighters. More than I think we’ve ever deployed. That we’ve gotten this far is something of a miracle. But they would need a few more before it was over.

“Alpha One to all fighters. Weapons free.” Justin counted off two seconds. The missile-lock-on tone sounded almost immediately once he’d toggled the LIDAR targeting system back on. “Alpha One, fox three.”

The Vulture popped out of the central stores bay on Justin’s Phantom, propelled downward by a small burst of compressed gas. Its gel-fuel motor kicked in a moment later, and the missile accelerated into the void.

Simultaneously, Justin pushed his throttle forward while engaging the so-called afterburner system, which was an extra burst of speed gained from injecting drive plasma straight through the aft thrusters, but the common name was a callback to older technology that pilots were enamored with.

All around him, the others did the same. Thousands of Phantoms and Saurian fighters raced through the void, all seemingly eager to face down the deadliest machines SATO and its member nations had ever encountered.

Justin tightened his grip on the flight stick as the range to the hostiles decreased rapidly. “Alpha One to Alpha flight. Stand by for max range.”

The moment the targeting reticle turned green, he squeezed the trigger for his neutron cannons. Dozens of energy bolts shot from the underside of his craft, joined by all the others. The effect turned the normally inky-black void into a giant kaleidoscope of shades of blue. Another time, without a massive battle taking place, it would’ve been beautiful.

At first, the nanite constructs didn’t alter course, doing nothing but continuing to accelerate. That choice cost them, as tens of thousands of the modified neutron bolts shot through their formation. Justin tracked the one he’d chosen, pouring on additional fire. It took at least ten direct hits for the nanite craft to cease movement and a few more after that to finish it off. Unlike with a League or other conventional combat spacecraft, there didn’t appear to be a reactor or fuel supply aboard. Maybe I just have to take out enough of the mass’s volume to destroy it.

But the feeling of victory was short-lived. As Justin accelerated to turn around and take another pass, he glanced at the squadron status display and realized they’d lost nearly seventy-five fighters already. My God. Justin gulped. He prayed that hunting the enemy’s six o’clock versus flying head-on at them would even the rate of exchange.

28

Pale-blue light bathed Colonel Anton Savchenko and the rest of the bridge crew of the CSV Margaret Thatcher. He was not a man to show or even experience fear. Sixteen years of military service had forced the ability out of him. Yet watching the onrushing mass of nanite forms caused the unfamiliar emotion, and there was no escaping it.

The tactical plot was so thick with red dots that it was impossible to figure out the sizes or positions of the forms as they pressed toward the SATO formation.

Friendly Phantoms pawed the vacuum, creating a massive display of neutron-cannon blasts that was eerily bright, even from their distance.

Captain Kabar Masoud tugged at Savchenko’s uniform sleeve. “Sir, I’ve got a crazy idea. What if we modify our point defense to mimic the output of the neutron beams? Might give some cover to our fast movers.”

“TAO, can we do that?”

Miller turned in her seat. “I can try, sir. No promises.”

“Do it. And don’t give me any excuses,” Savchenko replied with a grin.

The larger nanite constructs, marked with different icons, slowed on the plot. I wonder what their game is. David’s battle plan called for maintaining as much fleet cohesion as possible to give their energy weapons saturation power against the swarm. Savchenko superimposed the range markings on the plot. Hmmm. An idea came to him. “TAO, do you think you can hit one of those fighter-size enemy craft with our neutron beams?”

“They’re small and fast. But you don’t know unless you try, sir.”

Savchenko ruminated on how facing death sometimes brought about humor as a smattering of snickers swept through the bridge. “Pick one hostile at your discretion.”

“Aye, aye, sir. Firing solution set.”

“Match bearings, shoot, forward neutron beam.”

A spear of energy shot out from the Thatcher’s bow, moving at the speed of light. Three more lanced out in quick succession, and the last shot connected with its quarry—the smallest of the nanite forms. The beam first melted then seemed to erase the craft, like it had never existed in the first place.

“Tough to hit, sir,” First Lieutenant Abigail Miller said in her trademark Texas drawl. “But the weapon is extremely effective when we do.”

Maybe it’ll even the odds for our fast movers. While Savchenko didn’t have a direct tactical feed from the fighters—that was reserved for the carriers and flagship—they were clearly losing more than they were taking down. “Comms, spread the word to the fleet. TAO, focus on targets of opportunity within twenty degrees of our forward arc, and erase them from the sky.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

At first, the Margaret Thatcher was the only ship firing on the nanite small craft to start, but she was quickly joined by others, until the entire escort component was lashing out with their neutron beams. Hundreds of blue energy trails slashed through the inky blackness of the void, leaving creepy glows in every direction.

And it worked. While the vast majority of their shots didn’t connect, the ones that did eliminated the threat. Best of all, the short bursts didn’t drain the energy-weapons capacitor nearly as quickly as sustained fire.

The nanites responded just as the tactic began to even up the odds, facing the friendly fighters. The larger forms shot ahead at speeds Savchenko found mind-boggling. His eyes nearly popped out of his skull as they accelerated at levels which, even with advanced inertial damping systems, would’ve crushed any organic life-form within to paste.

“Conn, TAO. Aspect change, all hostiles. They’re moving in, sir.”

Savchenko’s mouth went dry. “Firing point procedures, forward neutron beams and magnetic cannons… Master Seven Hundred Eighteen.” He picked one of the nearest hostiles that would be within primary weapons range within the next thirty seconds.

“Firing solutions set, sir.”

“Cease targeting enemy small craft, Lieutenant.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

You’re back on your own, little guys. Savchenko hoped it had been enough. He counted off the seconds as his target closed. “Match bearings, shoot, forward neutron beams and magnetic cannons.”

The line of SATO vessels sent everything they had at the nanite swarm. The modified energy weapons sliced through the hostile constructs, but for every one they destroyed, two more took its place.

The Thatcher rocked as projectiles launched from the nanite vessels slammed into her shields, while all around them, the other ships took beatings. A combination of some sort of energy beam plus the nanite-infused impactors slammed into weakened deflectors before slicing through the hull. A Saurian frigate had her engine pods sheared off, while a Matrinid destroyer blew apart.

Blue dots disappeared at a rate that made the blood drain from Savchenko’s face. Whatever tricks you’ve got, Cohen—now would be the time.

To say the battle wasn’t progressing as David had intended was the understatement of the millennium. While he’d expected grinding attrition, the abilities demonstrated by the nanites were a shock. They clearly held back in our earlier engagements. Or when they consumed that last world, it gave them additional power by ingesting some element.

Watching objects with the mass of heavy cruisers move at speeds rivaling Phantoms gave David pause. He had a small operational reserve, but for the most part, every ship was on the line. I overcommitted. The realization wouldn’t do him any good, but he filed it away for later review—if they survived.

“The enemy has formed a sphere around us,” Aibek hissed. “This is a most unusual formation.”

“We can’t shoot them all down,” David replied. He stared at the tactical plot in full 3D on the holotank.

“Our escorts are being mauled.”

David nodded. “I know. The only thing to do is send in the heavier ships, which will get them bogged down.”

“What other choice do we have?”

“None.” David turned to Taylor. “Communications, signal the fleet to advance.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

“Navigation, ahead three-quarters, heading zero-zero-zero.”

Hammond cleared her throat. “Aye, aye, sir.”

It didn’t take long for the heavy cruisers and battleships from all species to close the distance and their neutron beams to crisscross in the void. The nanites didn’t take that action lying down. They volleyed wave after wave of projectiles into the human, Saurian, and Matrinid formations. While upgraded point-defense systems helped ward them off, enough slammed into the friendlies’ deflector generators to cause serious strain.

David cross-checked his tactical plot several times before picking out a cluster of targets. “TAO, sending a target package to your console now.”

“Got it, sir.”

“Firing point procedures, forward neutron beams and magnetic cannons.”

“Firing solutions set, sir.”

“Match bearings, shoot, forward neutron beams and magnetic cannons.”

David stared at the plot intently as she went to work. The Lion’s oversize antimatter-powered beam emitters sent their deadly pulses into the heart of several nanite vessels. The mag-cannon shells were mainly a sideshow, but every once in a while, one had an effect.

“Sierra One Hundred Sixteen has lost engine power,” Ruth called out. “She’s launching life pods, sir.”

David blew out a breath and closed his eyes. The Righteous Thunder was a Saurian battleship with thousands of personnel. All around them, escorts were dropping like flies. This isn’t going according to plan. Something would have to change and soon, or there wouldn’t be a fleet left. We cannot win a battle of attrition. “Thoughts, XO?”

“I am still considering.”

For someone who usually had superior insights, Aibek appeared every bit as troubled as David. At least it’s not just me. “Consider faster.” He turned to Ruth. “Next target package is on the way, TAO. Firing point procedures, forward neutron beams and magnetic cannons.”

The cycle of battle carried on.

Admiral James Henry adjusted himself in his chair on the Liberator’s bridge. He’d specifically avoided the raised CO’s chair in order not to disrespect Fleet Captain Trang. Something about being the captain of a star-going vessel was sacrosanct. Not sitting in his or her chair was one of the unspoken rules in every human or other species ship he’d ever set foot on. The CO’s quarters were also off-limits.

He felt an immense level of pride in the professionalism shown by every ship in the Independent Systems Federation fleet. So far, they’d acquitted themselves as well as any other military force present, if not more so. Their irregular escorts, which made up a sizeable percentage of their ships, were taking it on the chin. Which is to be expected but no less heartbreaking. Above all, Henry hated to watch good men and women die.

Maybe we’ll get lucky and find survivors afterward. That would be a welcome relief.

“ISV Wildstar just went down. Her engines are offline, and multiple hostiles are circling,” the tactical officer said.

Her words drew Henry out of his mental reflections. “Anything in range to take the heat off?”

“No, sir. No cruisers or above anyway. That entire section of the line is close to collapse.”

Henry turned to the Liberator’s holotank and considered going to the stricken corvette’s aid. However, it would be far too late by the time they could get there. He was about to say a prayer for the spacers about to perish when another contact came in out of nowhere.

“Tactical, what ship is that?”

“Uh, it’s the, ah… CSV Salinan, sir.”

Before Henry’s disbelieving eyes, the rescue vessel darted close enough to lock multiple tractor beams on the stricken corvette and accelerated away, towing the disabled ship behind it.

“Someone wants to be a hero over here,” Trang said.

Henry shook his head. “Or has a death wish.”

“They saved our people, though.”

“Yes. Worth a bottle of our best brandy when this is over.”

Trang grinned. “I’ll see to it myself, Admiral.”

Henry blew out a breath then turned his attention to the hole opening around the Wildstar’s capital ship group. So many escorts had been taken down that nanite swarmers attacked a formation of Admari battleships head-on. I’ve only got a small tactical reserve. It was an agonizingly difficult decision to send the only remaining uncommitted force he had. Yet it was the only choice. “Signal Captain Lee to microjump to the following coordinates.”

29

The SATO fleet was engaged along its entire length and acquitting itself well for what they were fighting. But that wasn’t good enough. When outnumbered ten to one, they needed to be taking down thirty or forty nanite-ship-size constructs for every one allied vessel lost.

David was jostled in his seat as energy weapons from the larger nanite forms sliced across the void to slam into the Lion’s deflectors.

“Conn, TAO. Whatever that is, it’s packing a big punch.”

To Ruth’s point, David noticed the shield cohesion graph dropping like a stone. Continuing to use the same tactics isn’t going to work. “Captain, target the enemy at your discretion. XO, with me.” He stood and walked toward the holotank.

“What are you looking for, sir?” Aibek asked as he moved next to David.

“We’re playing their game, XO. And for once, I’m not a move behind… I’m more like fifty moves behind.”

“What other options do we have? Starship-combat strategy dictates massing your force for overlapping fire support.”

Aibek was correct. The book said to group together and hammer through. There’s a reason we’re called ships of the line. David turned toward the back of the room, where Hayworth occupied the makeshift science station. “Doctor, I don’t suppose you’ve identified any command-and-control hubs among the nanite constructs we’re fighting?”

“No.” Hayworth crossed his arms. “It’s a hive mind. It doesn’t have a nice, big flashy flagship that screams, ‘Blow me up.’ That’s something biological species do.”

David chuckled despite the pandemonium of combat. “Touché, Doctor.”

“Conn, TAO,” Ruth called out. “Fore shields approaching failure level, sir.”

Distracted by the newest problem, David turned back toward the front of the bridge. “Navigation, come to heading zero-nine-zero. TAO, prepare to drop the forward deflector and recharge the generator the moment we’re out of arc.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” Ruth and Hammond echoed.

David’s eyes returned to the holotank, where he searched for anything he could use against the nanites. “Doctor, how sure are you that these forms are taking orders from the hive mind?”

“About as much as I was a month ago. I think it’s a logical conclusion.”

If we can disrupt the CPU, as it were, that might even things up. “You mentioned a belief that destroying enough of the core might buy us time.”

“Perhaps, but that is a guess. I detest guesses, General,” Hayworth replied.

“If we continue with our current tactics, all will be lost,” Aibek interjected.

“I know.” David narrowed his eyes as he stared at the plot. What I’m about to do could get us all killed. But what does it matter if we’re all dead anyway? “If we split off the Lion of Judah and a strong-enough escort, we could concentrate on one section of the sphere formation, punch a hole through, and run like hell to Master One.”

Aibek nodded. “A bold strategy. One worthy of a Saurian.”

“XO, find me six undamaged heavy cruisers, a few Saurian battleships, and a whole mess of escorts.”

“Aye, aye, sir. A question,” he said as he raised a claw. “What do we do once we get there?”

“Pray to HaShem that Major Hanson is as smart as Demood thinks he is.” David felt a chill through his black space sweater. There would be no going back. That much, he knew.

“Conn, TAO. Master Three Hundred Eighty-Six, Master Four Hundred Ninety-Seven, and Master Four Hundred Ninety-Nine coming about to engage on our starboard quarter.”

Major John Wilson wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. The Salinan had taken a beating, and the battle was far from over. She was towing the CSV Strong, an Ajax-class destroyer, out of the fighting, as the vessel’s reactor had SCRAMed. He glanced at Khattri. “Getting a little crowded around here.”

Khattri adjusted his kirpan. “Too crowded, sir.”

“TAO, firing point procedures, Master Four Hundred Ninety-Seven, neutron beams.”

“Firing solutions set, sir.”

Wilson held his breath, waiting for precisely the best moment, knowing the weapons would heavily damage the nanite constructs. “Shoot, neutron beams.”

Blue spears of energy shot out from the Salinan, cracking with streaks of purple. All three connected with the cigar-shaped enemy object and made its hull crumple inward. The tactical officer had gotten good enough over the last hour to know where the propulsion system was. Like a light switch had turned off, the hostile arced toward another nanite ship.

Nothing quite like on-the-job training. Wilson pumped his fist as the icon for Master Four Hundred Ninety-Seven merged with Master Four Hundred Ninety-Nine. “Nice shooting, Lieutenant.”

A sudden impact nearly threw everyone out of their harnesses.

Pain shot through Wilson’s arm from where his elbow had violently slammed into the armrest. “TAO, what was that?”

“A projectile pierced our shields and impacted deck three, section thirteen bravo.”

Khattri turned to Wilson. “Nanites?”

“Must be. Master Chief, sound intruder alert. Send every available master-at-arms to that location.” Wilson set his jaw. “TAO, see if you can figure out how it got through. The fancy new shield algorithms the eggheads cooked up were supposed to prevent that.”

“Hayworth did say they would adapt,” Khattri replied. “Perhaps we’re seeing that.”

“Perhaps.”

Wilson’s eyes went back to the tactical display. While nowhere near as impressive as even one on a destroyer, the map did its job. All around them, the sphere of enemy constructs pressed inward. They mean to squeeze us to death. “Nav, I need more speed. What else can we shunt into the engines?”

“With what we’re hauling, I don’t think she can take it, sir. She’ll fly apart.”

“Put the battery power into the mix.”

“Sir—”

“That’s an order, Lieutenant. Don’t make me repeat myself on this bridge again.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

The Salinan’s speed increased just enough to get them out of the combat zone a few minutes faster. Time seemed to crawl as Wilson watched the energy-weapons capacitor recharge. It wasn’t the highest priority on a deep-space salvage and recovery vessel. Yeah, I wish I’d told Cohen to put tractor beams on a destroyer.

“Conn, TAO. Aspect change, Master Three Hundred Forty-Seven. Contact is headed straight for us.”

Wilson glanced at the plot to see that the indicated hostile was one of the larger nanite ships, not the smaller ones they’d tangled with so far. He bit his lip. “Comms, send a general distress call. We need heavy cruiser support before our ass gets handed to us.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

On the tactical plot, one of the blue dots representing an antimatter-powered CDF fleet cruiser altered its course along with several Saurian battleships.

“Sir, I’ve got flash traffic from the CSV Marcus Aurelius.”

“Put it on,” Wilson snapped.

“Salinan, this is Marcus Aurelius actual. Hang on to your hats. This is going to get rough.”

Wilson gripped the armrests of his chair. “Acknowledged, Aurelius.”

More akin to a small battleship than a heavy cruiser, the massive fleet cruiser suddenly accelerated as its engines flared in the void. The vessel superimposed itself between the onrushing nanite ship and the Salinan. All the while, its neutron beams flashed the same bluish-purple. They cut through the tough outer shell and eviscerated the nanite form at the last possible second as its fire shook their shields.

“The Aurelius wishes us Godspeed and hopes our little ship continues to perform well, sir,” the communications officer said.

“Taking a beating, sir. Port and aft deflector generators at the red line,” the tactical officer called out.

“I didn’t notice,” Wilson replied under his breath.

Khattri laughed. “Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed?”

“No… just tired of people calling my ship little.” Wilson shook his head. “Once we’re out of the main battle zone, I’ll drop our screens long enough to recharge before we make another run.”

“How many times can we do this until our luck runs out, sir?” Khattri asked quietly.

“As many as it takes,” Wilson replied. The bravado was there, but in the pit of his stomach, he knew their number would come up sooner or later. We’d better hope Cohen pulls whatever miracle he’s got out soon, or most of us won’t make it home.

While Ruth made the nanites pay with every barrage she sent out, it wasn’t enough. The sphere of nanite forms pressed inexorably inward, and while the rate of exchange was overwhelming in SATO’s favor, they would still run out of ships well before there were no more nanites.

It made David’s next strategy all the more crucial. One of the problems the friendly vessels had, especially the Coalition and Saurian capital ships, was they were primarily designed for line-abreast or massed-charge formations. We didn’t consider large-scale enveloping actions because no nation or empire can build ten thousand warships—except for a galaxy-level threat like gray goo.

“I believe we may be approaching this problem the wrong way.”

David turned to Aibek. “Explain, XO.”

“This combat utilizes the entire plane of space in every direction.” Aibek touched the holotank. “Notice how the enemy uses the dorsal and ventral attack vectors against us?”

“I did.”

“Perhaps rotation is the key.”

A light bulb went on in David’s mind. “You’re a genius, Talgat. Communications, order the ships coming to support our formation to prepare to roll ninety degrees to port or starboard, depending on their relative position to the Lion of Judah. On my order only.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” Taylor replied.

“I don’t get it, sir,” Ruth called over the din of orders and replies from the enlisted crewmen. “What’s that going to get us?”

“Think about it for a moment, Captain,” David said as he strode back to the CO’s chair.

Ruth turned to face him. “The broadsides. They’ll point dorsal and ventral.”

“Bingo. Maybe we’ll surprise these guys for once.”

“It’s not like you’re fighting Saurians,” Hayworth said. “If it works, this gambit will only catch them once.”

“All we need is once, Doctor.”

Aibek took his seat and stared at Hayworth. “Are you suggesting that Saurians are gullible, Doctor?”

Hayworth smirked. “Not at all, only that similar tactics worked repeatedly on you during the Second Saurian War.”

“Since when are you up on military history, Doctor?” David asked.

“I ran out of decent things to read a year ago.”

Snickers swept across the bridge and made David ponder the nature of battlefield humor. It’s an easy way to relieve stress, especially when we’re about to pull something with a nonzero chance of failure. Still, the idea of Hayworth reading up on military history was astounding. I’ll have to talk to him further about that… if we survive.

“Conn, Navigation. Formation Alpha Six-Three set, sir, and ready to advance on your orders.”

David tugged down his black space sweater and blew out a breath. “All ahead flank, steady on course zero-zero-zero.” HaShem, please see us through this trial.

30

“Alpha One, guns, guns, guns,” Justin called into his commlink as he closely tracked the nanite craft ahead of him. While he was inside the kill zone, scoring hits was brutal. The hostile juked from side to side as well as up and down. Justin stayed with it while filling the void with voluminous numbers of neutron-cannon bolts. Finally, he got three impacts in a row, and the nanite craft fell apart.

But he had no time to register, much less celebrate the victory. All around Justin’s Phantom, individual battles raged. The nanite swarmers, as he’d taken to calling them, outperformed the SATO small craft in every possible way except pilot experience. The only problem was once something worked a few times, the hostiles got better. Of course it had to be a hive mind.

“Alpha One, you’ve got a hostile coming into your aft weapons envelope,” Amir said.

Justin cursed himself. I guess Andrew was right. Three decades out of action have dulled my combat senses. I’d never have let any Leaguer get that close. He jerked the flight stick to the left and attempted to roll away. The flurry of energy-weapons fire that chased him suggested the attempt was unsuccessful. “Alpha Two, I could use an assist. Are you in range?” One thing was still there—the calmness that came with facing certain death.

“Closing on your six now, Alpha One. Maintain guns-D,” Amir replied.

Ripping to the right then back to the left, Justin tried everything he knew to throw the unrelenting gray goo off. Multiple hits weakened his aft shielding, and the only option left was to put in as much power as possible from the forward generator to reinforce them. And hope I don’t get a frontal assault.

The deflector status display flashed red, and a warning tone filled the cockpit. Justin pulled back hard on his flight stick as he disengaged the g-force safeties. He glanced at the small picture of his family as his vision dimmed. Suddenly, the incoming stopped, and as he performed the Immelmann, the reason became apparent: Amir had destroyed the nanite swarmer.

“Alpha Two, splash one.”

Justin blew out a breath. “Nice shooting, Colonel.”

“Your maneuvering was outstanding, sir.”

“I’ve got a few brain cells left, I think.”

Justin stared at the sensor overlay on his HUD. At least there was nothing within neutron-cannon range for a few moments. He took the opportunity to review wing and squadron status, which wasn’t good. They’d already suffered close to twenty percent losses of small craft. The Zeivlot- and Zavlot-flown Phantoms had been hit even harder. Bloodbath didn’t even begin to describe the carnage, though it was par for the course for the space-superiority fighters. What engagement did I have during the League War that didn’t see twenty percent losses? He couldn’t think of one.

The status quo had to change, if for no other reason than they would run out of fighters long before the nanites ran out of swarmers and other constructs. If only our EMP-fitted Vultures worked. Something in the nanite construct’s outer hull stopped the effect. Some sort of protective shell.

Wait. A sudden inspiration came to Justin. That’s crazy enough to work. “Alpha Two, I’m headed to the nearest destroyer-size nanite vessel. Cover me.”

“Our weapons fire was ineffective, sir,” Amir replied after a delay.

“I know. I’ve got an idea.”

“Roger, sir.”

Justin lined up the nanite ship in his sights and toggled the subsystem targeting system online. It was designed to allow a fighter to shoot at point-defense turrets or other surface targets of opportunity on League of Sol vessels—or any other species the CDF had encountered and scanned. What Justin was about to try wasn’t technically supported, but he hoped the system’s functionality hadn’t degraded in the past three decades.

So far, the nanite swarmers hadn’t decided to tangle with the two Phantoms, but he knew that would change any moment. “Alpha One to Grim Reapers. Anyone not in an active dogfight, assume finger-four formation, and provide cover to One and Two.”

“Wilco,” several pilots answered at once.

The long, cigar-shaped nanite vessel loomed in front of Justin’s cockpit canopy, filling the front view. The surface was entirely smooth and shiny. Energy weapons seemed to erupt from the hull, not out of any specific emitter or port. More than once, Justin had to juke to avoid outgoing fire probably directed at another ship. Otherwise, they’d be engaging me a bit more energetically. He hoped the hive mind had decided the SATO small craft weren’t a threat. It would make what I’m trying to do a bit easier.

The moment Justin’s fighter entered maximum range, he held down the trigger for his forward neutron cannons. Dozens of bolts raced into the void and picked at the hull of the far-larger nanite form. As much as he was able, he put them all in the same general area. The distance closed rapidly—faster than he remembered such a strafing run going. He used the Phantom’s helmet-mounted neural interface to select a point within the holes opened by his shots to target the Vulture and waited for lock-on.

Come on. Give me tone! Several seconds passed before the harsh buzzer sounded, and Justin pressed the missile-launch button. “Alpha Two, fox three.”

The Vulture accelerated into the void, leaving nothing but the bright-blue glow from its gel-fueled engine in its wake.

One of the downfalls to manually targeting a point for his active-LIDAR tracking missile to home in on was his Phantom had to maintain line of sight until the last possible second. Justin doggedly juked and maneuvered to retain the target lock until the missile entered terminal acquisition mode. At that point, he pulled back hard on the flight stick with the intent of putting as much distance between himself and the impending explosion as possible.

His only indication of success was his aft deflector strength dropping fifty percent from a single impact. Must be the EMP. “Alpha One to Alpha Two. Any joy?”

“You blew a fifty-meter hole in it, sir,” Amir replied.

If Justin had not been in his cockpit, he would’ve jumped up and down, screaming in triumph. As it was, he had to settle for a single tap of his canopy with his right fist. “Let’s see if we can even the odds, Colonel.”

“Wilco, sir.” Amir’s voice held something it hadn’t only a few minutes before: hope.

Sparks showered from an overhead power conduit as overloads swept the systems of the Margaret Thatcher. They fell harmlessly to the alloy deck but served as an ever-present reminder of the battle damage accruing throughout the destroyer. In the center of the controlled chaos on the bridge, Savchenko was the calm. He stared at the tactical plot, ignoring the overall battle and focusing solely on their little slice of it.

“Colonel,” the Master Chief called out after a fierce impact that jostled the officers and enlisted ratings in their harnesses. “We have hostile boarders on deck four.”

Not like there isn’t enough to worry about already. Savchenko turned toward him. “Away all masters-at-arms and the rapid-response force. Set intruder alert in all affected sections.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

Savchenko turned his attention back to the battle raging in the void. Their division had lost a third of its destroyers, and two more were barely holding together. If the objective weren’t to defend fourteen billion innocent civilians, no one in their right mind would’ve kept on. The carnage was immense, though he had hope that should the allied force win the day, casualties would be lighter than expected. Most of the disabled CDF ships weren’t blown apart. Instead, they were run through with the nanite projectiles or energy weapons until enough systems were disabled to remove them from the fight.

Leaguers would’ve finished us off with a coup de grâce to the fusion reactor. None of it mattered if they didn’t win, however. And suffocating as your air runs out has to be an awful way to die. If he had any control over his death, he would prefer it to be quick.

“Energy-weapons capacitor is about charged,” Masoud said.

“Plenty of targets left.”

Masoud arched his eyebrow. “Too many.”

Savchenko pointed at a cluster of blue dots on the tactical plot identified as Saurian heavy cruisers. “Request they provide a fire-support pass. Let’s see if we can take the pressure off for a few minutes.”

Masoud nodded. He was acting as the de facto fleet coordination officer for their destroyer division, juggling that duty with managing damage-control efforts. After a moment, he smirked. “We will sweep the heretics from the void.”

“That from our Saurian friends, I take it?”

“Yes, sir.” Masoud snickered. “Creatures of few words.”

“They’ve mastered the less-talk, more-blowing-things-up way of life.”

Chuckles swept over the bridge, which was what Savchenko had aimed for. The pressure cooker of combat was getting to everyone, and a mild release never hurt.

True to their word, the formation of heavy cruisers accelerated into the scrum of midsize nanite vessels and the few dozen Ajax-class destroyers. The Saurians’ unique take on the neutron beam flashed in the void as they eviscerated dozens of the smaller hive ships. Savchenko remained impressed that the industrial complexes of SATO had been able to refit virtually half their fleets in a month. It spoke well to future cooperation. If we survive, anyway.

“TAO, firing point procedures, neutron beams, Master Seven Thousand Sixty-Eight and Master Five Thousand Eighty-Two.”

“Firing solutions set, sir.”

“Match bearings, shoot, neutron beams.”

The Thatcher added her weapons to the mix, striking already-damaged nanite forms. The nanites had a tipping point when the remaining ones couldn’t keep moving and went inert. All across the fleet, tactical officers had undergone intense on-the-job training for the past hour. Some got it better than others, and Miller was one of the best. As if she were an expert surgeon wielding her scalpel to excise a foreign object with a minimum of cuts, both targeted vessels ceased forward thrust following her attentions.

Several seconds passed without telltale rumbles through the Margaret Thatcher’s deck. Around them, the number of hostiles had dropped dramatically. Excellent work by our Saurian friends. But that wasn’t all it was, he realized a moment later. The nanites were pulling back. There were still enough hostiles to put the hurt on the SATO force, but something was going on.

Masoud pointed at the plot. “Are you seeing this, sir?”

Savchenko nodded. “They’re repositioning, but where?” The battle wasn’t anything like fighting a human or even a biological opponent. He couldn’t guess the next move, only react to it.

“Orders, sir?”

“Hold the line.”

“There’s a never-ending supply of new nanite ships to attack us.”

“Cohen’s got a plan. Let him execute it, and we’ll keep buying time.”

“The cost is high.”

Savchenko didn’t reply because Masoud was right, and there was nothing he could add. If I believed in God, I’d be praying about now. Instead, I hope this harebrained scheme of Cohen’s and his ChENG works. “TAO, drop all shields not facing the enemy, and recharge our generators as fast as possible.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

Until then, the Iron Lady would keep up the fight.

31

The swarm was not used to setbacks. It had become clear that the precursor android had sacrificed itself to test a new weapon, one that the biological life-forms were using to significant effect. The losses sustained in the last two hours were more than it had taken in a hundred thousand years. Yet even that level of carnage was immaterial. The hive would conquer all. The technology to consume the universe lay only a few million kilometers away.

As much as a being had an all-encompassing purpose, the swarm knew it was to absorb the ancients’ secrets and continue replicating until only it was left.

The first thing we must do is eliminate the humans. They are the lynchpin and the organizers of this atrocity. Fresh waves of constructs were sent toward one of the ships that seemed to direct the humans and their allies. We will grind them into the void.

Then a particular vessel accelerated along with a large group of other ships. The hive studied their movement, calculating what would happen next and the proper response.

Clustered around the Lion of Judah were half a dozen Saurian and Matrinid battleships and most of the CDF Constantine-class antimatter-powered fleet cruisers, accelerating in the void. Dozens of block II Ajax-class destroyers, most built and crewed by Zeivlots and Zavlots, were right there with them. The firepower brought to bear was impressive by any standard.

“Conn, TAO. Aspect change on localized hostile contacts. They’re thickening around our dorsal and ventral arcs directly over the formation.”

David steepled his fingers. That is precisely what I expected and hoped for. “TAO, firing point procedures, all neutron beams. Continue to target at your discretion. Tag targets in order of priority, with the largest and most combat-capable nanite forms ranking the highest. Distribute that to the fleet.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

“You are waiting until the last second,” Aibek hissed.

“Someone once told me that when you’re hunting with one bullet, you wait for a clean shot.” David flashed a small smile. “And we’re out of bullets, old friend.”

Aibek didn’t reply except to flare his nostrils.

David’s eyes went back to the tactical plot. Red and blue dots disappeared with regularity as the butcher’s bill continued to accrue. Come on. Just a little bit closer. It took a few more minutes for the nanites to quit pulling craft from other sections of the sphere. The cloud above and below them solidified, and David turned to Taylor the moment it did. “Communications, order the fleet to rotate now. TAO, coordinate firing sequence with all vessels to commence as soon as rotation complete.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” Taylor and Ruth echoed.

Like a well-timed ballet, the capital ships twisted in the void, turning their broadside armaments to the top and bottom of the formation. Dozens of orange-and-blue beams erupted from emitters placed across their hulls, illuminating the inky blackness with a dazzling light show. The equivalent of a fleet alpha strike, it caught the nanites by surprise. For a moment of indecision, they didn’t respond, and the fleet was able to land another volley that drained virtually every vessel’s energy-weapons capacitor.

“Conn, TAO. Numerous hostile contacts neutralized,” Ruth called out.

David pumped a fist. “Nice shooting, Captain.” His eyes went back to the plot. Your move.

The hive didn’t take long to do so. The tightly bunched nanite forms moved away from one another and morphed into even larger units. David stared at the feed in disbelief. What we wouldn’t give to be able to reconfigure our warships on the fly.

“Are you seeing this, sir?” Ruth asked.

“Yes.” David ran various scenarios through his mind. What do they get from becoming an even larger target for our beams?

One of the nanite superships—roughly ten times their previous size—suddenly plunged toward the SATO formation. David immediately overlaid its course on the tactical plot. It was headed for the CSV Justinian. His mouth went dry. Now it makes sense. “TAO, tag Master Ten Thousand Six Hundred Fifty-Five as the primary target.”

“Sir, we’ve still got a couple of minutes until our—”

“Anything that can engage, do so now, with any weapons at their disposal.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

Aibek leaned in. “I do not see what you do.”

David gestured at the small screen to his left. “I think it’s a suicide run.”

The nanite vessel, meanwhile, continued to accelerate in a manner that seemed to defy the laws of physics. It shrugged off the incoming modified neutron beams, and while giant holes appeared throughout the construct—giving it the appearance of Swiss cheese—onward it pressed.

“TAO, snap shot, any available neutron beams, Master Ten Thousand Six Hundred Fifty-Five.”

Orange-and-blue spears shot away from the Lion of Judah at the speed of light and sliced off more of the enemy vessel’s hull. Some of them drilled through the entire nanite construct and jutted out the other side before all energy was expended.

“Capacitor’s dry again, sir.”

Meanwhile, the Justinian accelerated, attempting to turn out of the onrushing hostile’s path. Her weapons lashed out, continuing to generate copious amounts of damage to the construct’s hull. While the deadly dance played out, the rest of the nanite fleet kept filling the void with projectiles and energy beams.

David counted seven more destroyers disabled in the past thirty seconds. The severe losses almost disrupted his OODA—observe, orient, decide, act—loop. But he couldn’t allow that and forced himself to remain laser focused.

Despite everything, the nanite superconstruct successfully intercepted the Justinian and plowed through its weakened shields. Spears of nanites seemed to come from half the remaining smooth surface on the hostile and ran the fleet cruiser through in dozens of places. A brilliant flash of pure-white light blinded everyone on the bridge before the protective filters on the windows engaged. Nothing was left except trace amounts of debris.

David had never panicked in combat, but watching what had just happened got him the closest he’d ever been. The counterpunch had been brutal.

It doesn’t mean we’re out of the fight. “Communications, order all ships to maintain fifty percent energy-weapons capacitor strength. The next time they try that, we’ll be ready.”

“They’re one step ahead of us, sir,” Ruth interjected. “All new contacts are headed toward different capital-class friendlies.”

HaShem, help us. David stared at the plot. Whatever happens, if we don’t deliver our payload and finish this… the sacrifice of all these soldiers was for nothing. He bit his lip. “Communications, order the escorts to close and engage. Whatever measures are required, stop the incoming. All other concerns are secondary.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

The atmosphere in the bridge changed as everyone processed and fully comprehended his order. It was the toughest one he’d ever given.

One of the nanite forms plowed ahead and was caught in crossfire between a dozen destroyers, a Saurian battleship, and a Matrinid heavy cruiser. For thirty agonizing seconds, the friendly forces put everything they had into the enemy, and at the last second, it started to drift as all outgoing fire from the hostile ceased.

“They’re not invincible,” Ruth said.

“No,” David replied, mainly for the benefit of the crewmen behind him.

“Sir, they’re executing a time-on-target attack.”

David studied the tactical plot, and he did some mental math. As usual, Ruth was spot on. There’s no way we can defeat them in detail. “Communications, transmit to all capital ships. Go to maximum thrust. Escorts to maintain formation. Navigation, all ahead flank.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” Taylor and Hammond echoed.

David briefly bowed his head. Whenever I am afraid, I will trust in You. In God, I will praise His word. In God, I have put my trust. I will not fear. The words of the Psalm were the only thing he had to hold on to as the Lion hurtled toward the massive nanite hive. HaShem, protect us all, and take those who perish into Your paradise.

Major Davoric Ne’miyaa wiped blood from the corner of his mouth. A piece of debris falling from the overhead had nicked him a few minutes before, but there was no time to obtain medical treatment. They were in a fight for their lives. He wasn’t sure what he’d thought space combat would be. Ne’miyaa had served in the Zavlot military and commanded an orbital spacecraft with strategic weapons on board for use against the Zeivlots. He’d figured there wasn’t much new under the sun.

Our former enemies. No, that wasn’t quite the right word. Mass hatred was a better description. Three years ago, I would gladly have given the order to kill every Zeivlot in the universe. Now I’m putting my life on the line with a mixed crew of Zeivlots, Zavlots, and humans to defend a world full of people I once detested.

The radical change had begun as he waited for thousands of Zeivlot IPBMs to rain down on his home world and erase every person he cared about in life. In the aftermath, Ne’miyaa knew something had to give. A cycle upon which their civilizations destroyed each other was madness, and it had taken walking up to and gazing into the abyss to see it.

He sat on the bridge of the CSV Reuben James as a member of the Coalition Defense Force. Strange times indeed.

“Conn, TAO,” the Zeivlot tactical officer called out. “Hostile vessels closing on our port quarter, sir.”

Ne’miyaa stared at the plot. The nanites were headed for the larger capital ships and virtually ignoring the smaller escorts. That had to change. “Navigator, plot an intercept course on the nearest superconstruct, and engage at maximum sublight.”

Captain Kouji Takeda, the Reuben James’s executive officer and a human male who’d served in the CDF fleet as a watch officer on the CSV John Manners, blinked a few times in surprise. “What are you expecting to do, sir?”

“Get their attention and buy some time for our larger units to strike the enemy.”

Takeda didn’t respond.

The nanite superforms scared Ne’miyaa because he knew they could sweep his ship away like a piece of kindling. Yet there was no room for fear in his heart, as what was required of them was clear. “TAO, firing point procedures, all weapons on the same superconstruct.” It had taken a while to master the CDF commands and nomenclature, but they’d come to roll off his tongue. The humans had preached repetition and learning muscle memory. They seemed to have been right about it.

“Firing solutions set, sir.”

“Match bearings, shoot, all weapons.”

The Reuben James’s onslaught didn’t do much beyond knocking a few holes in the enemy vessel. Except the juggernaut turned toward her, loosing its fury. Projectiles and energy beams slammed into the destroyer’s shields, causing them to fail after only a few seconds.

“Again!” Ne’miyaa roared as the lights flickered.

“Our hull is compromised, sir. We might lose the entire ship from section eleven forward,” Takeda interjected and pointed at a display filled with red indicators.

I’m not breaking off. Every second buys time for the Lion of Judah to get in range and destroy the hive. Ne’miyaa exhaled forcefully. “Abandon ship. All hands, abandon ship.”

Takeda blinked. “Sir?”

“We all knew it might come to this. Keeping even one of those nanite vessels from taking out a capital ship is worth my life.”

At that moment, a harsh impact made everyone thrash in their harnesses. The navigator’s arm appeared to be broken above the elbow.

“The gravlift to deck one is inoperable.”

Ne’miyaa knew they were all thinking the same thing: No one is getting off this bridge alive. “Master Chief, sound collision alarm, and trigger the automated life-pod-deployment system.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

“We all knew this was a possible outcome,” Ne’miyaa began. He glanced at several of the watch officers. “But we have a duty. I know all of you will stand with me, and someday, we’ll see our families again in paradise.”

“To the end,” the Zeivlot tactical officer replied.

They others echoed her.

Takeda didn’t seem as sold as the rest, but Ne’miyaa didn’t think any less of him, as his home and loved ones were in a different galaxy.

“Let us begin. TAO, maintain continuous neutron-beam shots on the enemy vessel. Make tubes one through twelve ready in all respects.”

“Aye, aye, sir. Tubes ready.”

Ne’miyaa stared out the bridge window at the implacable foe. You shall not pass.

They got off a few more volleys before losing primary weapons and engines. As the nanite vessel moved to obliterate them, he saw the Lion of Judah punch through the mass of hostile ships. That was enough for him to die knowing the oath was kept and honor maintained.

32

The massive globe of nanites visible through the bridge windows on the Lion of Judah appeared so close that one could reach out and touch it if the transparent alloy weren’t there. The sight inspired terror and awe. David stared at the object as if somehow, that would affect the outcome of what they planned to do next. He turned to Aibek to see even the ordinarily stoic Saurian with his mouth agape. “There’s a human adage… the bigger they are, the harder they fall.”

“Let us hope it is correct,” Aibek replied. “And that the Prophet will help us control our blades.”

“Amen to that, old friend.”

David lamented that so few vessels had broken through the nanite battle line. Dozens of escorting destroyers were gone, their debris and a few escape pods spreading in the void. The Saurian warships had taken significant damage, but a few limped along behind the Lion. One bright spot was how the antimatter-powered Coalition fleet cruisers continued to exceed all expectations. Once the after-action reports are in, assuming we survive, somebody at Command will realize how valuable that design is. I hope it’ll be the final nail in the coffin for fusion reactors. David prayed he would live to see that particular bureaucratic fight. From his perspective, wider adoption of the technology would mean fewer CDF soldiers would pay the ultimate price.

One positive change was that the friendly fast movers had become far more effective against the larger nanite vessels. Someone had hit on detonating EMP missiles inside the damaged hulls, significantly increasing their effect. Whoever came up with that is getting the Medal of Honor when this is over. At least it gave the enemy something else to respond to.

“Conn, TAO. Aspect change, Master One. New contacts bearing zero-zero-zero, detaching from Master One.”

“It would appear the nanites have reserves,” David said to Aibek.

“Unfortunate for them.”

David set his jaw. “TAO, target incoming hostiles with our modified neutron beams at your discretion. Navigation, maintain flank speed.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

The Lion’s forward neutron emitters went to work, guided by Ruth’s expert hand. Superheated energy cut through the nanites, deforming their outer structure and causing the atomic bonds that held them together to crumble. Clouds of microscopic debris were the only evidence left that they’d ever existed.

On the tactical plot, groupings of red dots shot past the Lion, only to reverse course with maneuvers that would’ve turned an organic life-form to paste. All the while, they pummeled the ship with projectiles formed from nanites along with directed-energy weapons.

For there to be any chance of the plan to work, the Lion of Judah’s primary armament—her four particle-beam emplacements on the bow—would have to shoot as one, with the modifications engaged and working. Hanson had assured David countless times that he’d performed every possible simulation. But only the real world counts.

“Sir,” Ruth said as she turned her head toward him. “We need to let our energy-weapons capacitor hit maximum power before using our primary battery.”

David raised an eyebrow. “That wasn’t in Hanson’s briefing.”

“It’s based on my assessment of how the nanites are holding up to our shots.”

One more problem. “How long?”

“Thirty to forty seconds, give or take.”

We can’t afford to stop knocking down these swarm constructs for that long. “What kind of effect do you think our fusion warheads would have?”

“Minimal, but they can’t defy the laws of physics, sir. If nothing else, the nanite objects would get knocked around a bit.”

David glanced at Aibek. “Ideas, XO?”

“You are thinking of using our missile armaments to keep them busy, as a human would say?”

“It’s the only thing that makes sense to me.”

“And to me.”

David did some mental math as he stared at the tactical plot, determining the rate of approach and how long it would take to be ready. “TAO, make tubes one through two hundred sixty ready in all respects, and open outer doors.”

“Tubes one through two hundred sixty ready in all respects. Outer doors open, sir.”

“Target warheads at your discretion, Captain. Stand down neutron beams, and charge the energy-weapons capacitor fully.”

“Firing solutions set on all tubes, sir.”

David counted off ten more seconds. “TAO, match bearings, shoot, all tubes.”

The Lion’s deck rumbled as every Hunter missile in the forward and aft VRLS launched in waves, each cell half a second behind the next. David’s tactical plot exploded with blue dots that spread out in all directions, swatting at nearby nanite ships. Brilliant-white flashes of light surrounded them, so much so that the automatic dimmers kicked in.

Despite the shock-and-awe effect, they had little impact on the hostiles—but each moment the warheads bought them was invaluable.

“Five seconds to full capacity, sir.”

David gritted his teeth. Come on, old girl. Come on. Repeated impacts on the aft shields sent them hurtling toward collapse, but they could do nothing except hold their course. “TAO, firing point procedures, forward particle beams, Master One.”

“Firing solutions set, sir. Capacitor fully charged.” Ruth never allowed emotion into her voice or actions on the bridge, but the last few words had a particular energy to them.

“Match bearings, shoot, forward particle beams.”

The Lion of Judah’s primary battery was a sight to behold under normal conditions. Upgraded with Asperion’s weapons modifications, it was even more of a wonder. The blue-white beams radiated with streaks of purple and orange as they moved at the speed of light.

Unlike when striking a League vessel, the weapons seemed to melt the surface of the nanite sphere effortlessly. The hull almost generated an optical illusion, as the color didn’t change.

David blinked a few times before his eyes adjusted. “TAO, depth of penetration?”

“Just passed one hundred kilometers, sir.”

Fast. Very fast. David bit his lip as he brought up the energy-weapons-capacitor discharge screen on his monitor. The indicator dropped like a heavy stone in water, going past the fifty-percent marker in another two seconds. “Penetration depth now?”

“Three hundred kilometers, sir.”

Not fast enough. He tapped at the control panel and overrode the safety shutdown feature. Instead of shutting down at ten percent power, the beams kept discharging until every last ounce of energy was gone. The barrage ended with an abrupt shake of the Lion that jostled the bridge crew in their harnesses as the spears of light disappeared.

Ruth whirled around. “Sir, was that you?”

“Yes. We need every kilometer of depth.”

“There’s a good chance of damage—”

“TAO, none of that matters right now. Our only concern is reaching the center. Nav, is the hole large enough for us to fit, as projected?”

Hammond nodded. “Yes, sir. With room to spare.”

David blew out a breath. “Take us in, dead slow.”

“Conn, TAO. Hostile contacts no longer maneuvering robustly, sir.”

David tilted his head. “That’s what we’ve been hoping for.”

Hayworth cleared his throat. “A hive mind, by its very nature, would be delicate. As we postulated, the entire body will have trouble if enough individual cells are affected.”

David swiveled his chair around to make eye contact with the doctor. “Care to venture a guess as to how long before it recovers?”

“I’m not the crystal ball type, General. But I think I would err on the side of thinking that when dealing with an intelligence this advanced and so far ahead of us… seconds or minutes.”

While the doctor’s assessment was close to his, David was glad for the input. “I concur.” Ahead of them, the hole in the nanite sphere beckoned. Peering into it, he felt fear and trepidation unlike ever before. HaShem, help us, and guide my actions to Your will, that we may stop this evil.

Again and again, the swarm was surprised by the biological beings and their continued assault. A lesser opponent would already have run. Even more shocking was that different species seemed to be willing to sacrifice themselves for others. A small percentage of the individuals aboard the ships attacking were the same race as the ones on the two planets in the solar system.

The hive even recognized species native to its galaxy that were fighting on behalf of the local inhabitants. One of them had its home world destroyed thousands of years prior. Yet there they fought. It wasn’t logical, and the swarm had no basis for reference.

However, what was beyond evident was that the humans had an overarching strategy. The most recent attack on the hive had exposed something even the Optami, for all their knowledge, didn’t exploit: when enough of the cells were damaged, the body was damaged.

Computational processes were off by more than twenty percent. And one of the largest human warships was headed into one of the holes it had made in the hive. To what end, the swarm didn’t know. We must capture this vessel and determine the method by which they mean to destroy us.

Plans were made and sent to all functional units. They would prevail, and the biological life-forms inside the interloper would be subjected to the worst deaths of all.

33

The perfectly smooth tunnel through the moon-size nanite hive was eerie beyond all description. The Lion of Judah’s lights shone on an alloy. It was perhaps the strangest sight David had ever taken in. Down the rabbit hole, we go. He glanced at the various stations to see every watch officer and enlisted rating splitting their attention between the consoles in front of them and the bridge windows.

“I would rather face the League once more,” Aibek hissed.

David nodded. “No argument here. At least that enemy, I can predict logically.”

The Lion glided forward, kilometer after kilometer. Each one seemed to make the atmosphere on the bridge even tenser.

“Navigation, depth?”

“Forty-two kilometers, sir.”

They had many to go. Too many. “Lieutenant, thoughts on increasing to one-third forward thrust?”

Hammond gulped. “I can try, sir. As long as it stays straight, we should be okay.”

“Don’t forget the weapon attenuates with distance. This tube we’re flying through will get smaller,” Ruth interjected.

“We’re going to need every second,” David replied. He ran his tongue over his teeth. “Nav, ahead one-third. Keep a close watch on any narrowing of this chamber, and stand ready to slow the ship if needed.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

“How do we not know this is a trap?” Aibek asked.

“We don’t.” David crossed his arms. “And even if it is, this is our only hope to win.”

Aibek didn’t seem to like that answer, hissing.

The tunnel started passing by faster as the Lion’s engines increased their power output accordingly. David let himself relax a hair as the distance they needed to traverse grew smaller. Just a bit longer, and we can end this.

“Conn, TAO. Aspect change. Hostile contacts confirmed entering the opening behind us, sir.”

Too good to last. “Put it on my viewer, Captain.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

Interesting. They’re sending ships at us but not trying to collapse the tunnel. At that point, David considered every moment to be a gift from God. The screen above his head came alive with a view of several dozen larger nanite forms approaching from astern. A split second later, the ship rocked from a barrage of projectile and energy-weapons fire.

“TAO, firing point procedures, aft neutron beams,” David said as he checked the tactical plot. “Master Six Hundred Ninety Seven and Master Two Hundred Seventy Nine.”

“Firing solutions set, sir.”

“Match bearings, shoot, aft neutron beams.”

The modified weapons struck out against the foes chasing them with significant effect. Unlike a biological vessel that would have oxygen and generate explosions from flammable materials, the nanite forms crumpled in on themselves before slamming into the smooth sides of the particle-beam-cut borehole.

David glanced at the aft camera view and was shocked that the impacts hadn’t seemed to score or scorch the alloy. “These things violate the laws of physics.”

“Much more likely that in a static state, the nanites have an exceedingly high hardness rating compared to other minerals and alloys,” Hayworth interjected.

“Point taken, Doctor. TAO, target at your discretion, aft neutron beams.” David gripped the armrests of his chair as the Lion was jostled yet again.

“Aye, aye, sir,” Ruth replied.

What happens if we set off the pulse early? David didn’t want to find out but could see a no-win scenario in which they had to try it. HaShem, help us.

Boldly, the Lion of Judah pressed on into the inky blackness.

“Master Chief, status of hostile boarders?” Savchenko barked during a momentary lull in the back and forth of combat.

“Contained amidships, sir. Rapid reaction force and our masters-at-arms have taken out all but one of the intruders.”

One less problem for the moment. Fighting nanites in the void was one thing, but having some liquid alloy superthing rampaging through his ship was another. Why’d I sign up for this again?

“Conn, TAO. Aspect change. A group of larger contacts has broken away from the enveloping formation and is headed toward the Lion of Judah’s last known location.”

That’s the third in the last five minutes. The enemy’s strategy had clearly changed.

“Sierra Sixty-Eight is coming about, sir. She’s getting hit hard. Her starboard shields are down, and aft neutron beams are out of action.”

Savchenko furrowed his brow. That’s the CSV Heraclius. An antimatter-power fleet cruiser, the ship was one of the best on the battlefield. “Comms, alert the division we’re going in. Nav, intercept course on Sierra Sixty-Eight.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

“What’s the plan, sir?” Masoud asked.

“Cover the Heraclius, and help her limp out of the firing line.”

Masoud pointed at the mass of red dots surrounding the stricken cruiser. “There are a lot of them.”

Savchenko curled his lips into a wry grin. “I’ve got a crazy idea.”

“Oh, there goes everything.”

“Did you notice the fast movers hit on putting an EMP warhead into the interior of the nanite ships?”

Masoud shook his head. “I wasn’t paying attention to the fighters outside our casualty numbers.”

“I bet we could pull that off with a Hunter missile.” Savchenko’s gaze went to Miller. “Think you could drill into one of those nanite forms with a neutron beam and drop a fusion warhead inside the hole?”

She turned with an open mouth. “Uh, maybe, sir.”

“Lieutenant, you told me last week you’d like a one-on-one sim with Captain Goldberg on the Lion.” Savchenko smirked. “Now’s your chance to make a name for yourself.”

“No time like the present, sir.”

“That’s the spirit, Miller. Make tubes one through twelve ready in all respects, and open outer doors.”

“Outer doors open for tubes one through twelve, sir.”

“Firing point procedures, forward neutron beams and tube one, Master Seven Thousand Fifty-Six.” Savchenko picked the closest destroyer-size nanite construct, hoping it would be easier to hit.

Miller licked her lips before replying, “Firing solutions set, sir. Tube one ready in all respects.”

“Match bearings, shoot, tube one.”

A low rumble sounded as the Hunter missile shot out of the launch point amidships and roared off into the void.

“Unit one running hot, straight, and normal, sir.”

Now comes the hard part. “TAO, execute time-on-target attack with forward neutron beams. Shoot at your discretion.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

Miller took her time and sent the Hunter circling around the nanite vessel before plunging into terminal homing mode. The hostiles didn’t seem to have any form of point defense. At the last possible second, three neutron beams lashed out from the Thatcher and carved a hole in the enemy ship.

The Hunter accelerated and tracked where Miller had designated as the target impact point. A few moments later, it exploded with a brilliant flash of white light.

“TAO, status?” Savchenko barked.

“Good hit, sir. Our unit was a few meters off but still caused considerable internal damage. I’m speculating here, but I think the nanites can reconfigure their ships on the fly, and they still have some kind of internal structure for moving power around.”

Savchenko figured the eggheads would spend centuries plumbing the secrets of the force they were fighting. And probably cause another galaxy-level extinction event in their hubris too. “Is Master Seven Thousand Fifty-Six still combat capable?”

“Yes, sir. But it’s moving sluggishly, and its rate of fire has dropped by seventy-five percent.”

Savchenko glanced at Masoud. “I think we’re on to something.”

Masoud nodded. “Agreed, sir. I’ll compose a message to the fleet.”

“Pass it up to the CSV Abraham Lincoln. With the Lion of Judah out of contact, General MacIntosh’s CIC is in charge of fleet communications.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

Savchenko gazed at the tactical plot before picking his next target. The lather-rinse-and-repeat cycle had advantages in that there was always something else to do. Except for their continued loss rate, which was approaching twenty percent. By any measure, it was a complete bloodbath. Yet it’s worth it if we can stop the hive once and for all. He kept telling himself that.

“Alpha One, fox three,” Justin said into his commlink as he loosed his modified Vulture. One more death-defying combat maneuver that left him on the verge of blackout later, half of one of the nanite vessels disappeared.

But that had been his last missile, which was the problem most of the friendly fast movers had—consumable stores were down to almost nothing.

Justin took a moment to reorient himself in the battle space and checked the squadron-status screen. “Alpha One to Alpha Two. I’m Winchester.”

“Same, sir,” Amir replied.

“Then we do the best we can with neutron cannons only.”

Amir cleared his throat. “If I might remind you, sir, those are only effective against the swarmers.”

Justin rotated his Phantom and lined up on a nearby hostile. “I know, Colonel. But all we can do is eliminate them one unit at a time and hope the Lion of Judah pulls off a miracle.”

“You could fall back to a carrier, sir.”

“No. Regardless of the outcome, I’m here for the whole battle. Anything else would be cowardice.”

Amir took up position five hundred meters from his port wing. “It’s been an honor, Mr. President.”

“The fight’s not over yet. We’re getting home.”

“I pray to Allah you are correct.”

Justin waited for the targeting reticle to turn green. He intended to keep his word and erase as many of the nanites from existence as humanly possible. While Justin knew the overall battle plan, he was still iffy on whether David and the Lion’s crew could pull off taking out the enemy from within the hive sphere. If anyone can, it’s them. We just have to keep buying time.

“Alpha One, guns, guns, guns.”

Seventeen hits later, another nanite form ceased to exist. Only ten thousand to go.

34

David thought his heart rate went up a few beats per minute for every ten kilometers they pressed farther into the hive’s core. Probably not, or it would have exploded out of my chest by now. It was pounding so hard that he could feel it through his uniform sweater. Probably true of almost everyone on the bridge. Except Aibek and Hayworth. David found the doctor’s zen in the face of imminent death inspiring and worthy of respect. Seeing him rise to the occasion, whatever differences they had, told David that beneath the talk of avoiding conflict and noninterference, Hayworth was every bit as much a hero as the rest of the crew.

“Conn, TAO. I’m getting some strange readings from the, uh, walls, sir.”

“In what way?”

“Power spikes, I think. But it’s so alien…”

A flash of reflected light in the windows caught David’s attention. As his eyes focused, there were more pulses as the tunnel rippled. “Captain, deep scan, forward sensors.”

The wall shimmered, and in patches, alloy extruded from it. The image reminded David of photos he’d seen of a tornado coming out of the clouds. One of them shot out and slammed into the Lion of Judah’s shields.

David held on as the impact shook the vessel and sent anyone not strapped in flying.

“Conn, Navigation. Using thrusters to compensate, sir, but we can’t take too much of this,” Hammond said in a tight voice.

“Distance to center, Lieutenant?”

“A thousand kilometers, give or take, sir.”

Not quite halfway. “Keep us off the sides.” David flashed a thin smile, trying with all his might not to communicate through body language the fear welling up. We can’t turn around because the only hope the Zeivlots, Zavlots, the fleet, or this ship have is to destroy the hive.

“Doing my best, sir,” Hammond replied. Her knuckles were white as she manipulated the controls.

Each second took them farther into the hive, and with every passing kilometer, the shimmering of the alloy grew stronger. More and more spears erupted from the tunnel, and a few reached their deflectors.

“We have a serious problem,” Hayworth said with a raised voice. “I believe they’re trying to match our shield frequency, General.”

David whipped his head around. “To what end?”

“Likely, it means to board us. Perhaps we’ve attracted the swarm’s curiosity, though I doubt that’ll end well.”

Okay. If he’s right, that might work in our favor. Anything that buys us another five minutes. It didn’t take much imagination to think of what would happen if the tunnel compressed. “Countermeasures, Doctor?”

Hayworth shrugged. “I’ll see what I can do, but probably not. Well, Captain Goldberg, do you have our shields set to the upper EM band?”

“Yes, Doctor. That’s what worked last time.”

“Hmm. Try rotating them down a bit, and see if that buys us more time.”

Ruth glanced back at David, one eyebrow raised.

“Do it.”

She nodded as another spear jutted from the hive and slammed into their shields. “No effect.”

Three more hit in quick succession, and the ship skewed to one side.

“Decompression on deck six, section seventeen,” Master Chief Tinetariro called out. “Internal sensors have alloy consistent with the previous nanite incursion moving out fore and aft from their ingress point.”

This is going from bad to worse. “TAO, do you think you could shoot down those… whatever they are before they get to the ship?”

“They’re moving too fast, sir. I don’t see how I could.”

David had expected that response but felt if the question wasn’t asked, the answer was always no. “Redirect weapons power to the deflector generators.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

“Master Chief, sound intruder alarm. Deploy our Marines and masters-at-arms to repel boarders.”

David steepled his fingers. The next few minutes would decide the fate of not only the Lion of Judah but the lives of fourteen billion people as well. He prayed they were up to the task.

“Away all port-side defense teams! Away rapid-response teams! Intruders detected on decks six, seven, eight, and nine, subsections fifteen through twenty-two.” Master Chief Tinetariro’s voice echoed from the intercoms mounted throughout the passageway.

Calvin double-checked the energy-charge level of his pulse weapon. He felt naked without a ballistic battle rifle, but Hayworth and the other eggheads had modified the energy pulse rifles to emit the same frequency as the neutron-beam weapon they’d developed with Asperion. Figures I’ve got to go into combat with some untested gun that doesn’t even shoot bullets.

His squad of eight Marines pounded the deck plating with their power-armor suit boots as they all raced toward the nearest hostiles.

Calvin rounded a corner to see a mass of nanite alloy moving forward, deathly silent. He snapped his weapon up and held down the trigger. A blue-orange beam connected with the form and melted a hole straight through it. Yet the blob didn’t stop. He and the Marines behind him fired again and again. Once perhaps half of the nanite’s mass had been eliminated, whatever the thing was collapsed to the deck.

Tiny tentacles of alloy sprouted out of it and weakly tried to aim for the Marines. Before they could get a meter away from the mass, the squad unloaded again. What was left melted into a puddle and hardened.

“What the hell is that, Colonel?” one of the young privates asked.

“Dead, I think,” Calvin replied.

A wave of muted laughter followed but was cut short as three more nanite blobs came into view.

“Aw, hell. Light ’em up, boys!” Calvin cried before he adjusted his aim and squeezed the trigger.

A flurry of blue-orange energy bolts sizzled down the passageway, smacking into the approaching hostiles. But something was different. While they were still causing damage, not as much nanite material melted away.

Alarm shot through Calvin. “Orozco, switch to that Saurian plasma rifle you’re carrying.”

“Yes, sir!”

The application of superheated plasma had the desired effect as the alloy blobs kept advancing until the three merged into one superentity. After a few seconds of melding together and absorbing one another, it rushed forward at a lightning-fast pace.

“Hit it with everything you’ve got!” Calvin yelled while he drained the charge pack on his pulse rifle. Damn. They’re adapting, or whatever Hayworth said would happen. “Somebody hit the next force field!”

An invisible energy barrier popped into being, and the blob probed it after being repulsed with tendrils of shiny alloy.

Calvin keyed his commlink to the Marine-commander channel. “We’re having issues with the hostiles. Our new weapons are losing effectiveness. Anyone else seeing that?”

“Yes, sir,” First Lieutenant Huber replied. He commanded a Marine platoon assigned to deck five. “Only thing that’s working for us are Saurian plasma rifles.”

“Damn,” Calvin said under his breath. “Okay, fall back to protected positions, and get as many of those out of the armory as we can.”

“Where are we going, sir?” one of the privates asked with a touch of panic in his voice.

“To the gravlift to deck one. We must defend it at all costs. Move out, Marines!” Part of Calvin wondered why he’d signed up for the last stand. At some point, you don’t fight for the cause no matter how noble it is. You fought for your brothers- and sisters-in-arms because they bled and died for you. Regardless of the cost, Calvin would pay that forward.

“Navigation, distance to center?” David barked. Beads of sweat fell down his forehead.

“Four hundred sixty kilometers, sir.”

He ran some math based on their current speed. Five minutes. That’s all we have to hold.

“Sir, nanite forms have taken control of the central passageway on deck five. They’re moving forward and aft with equal emphasis,” Master Chief Tinetariro said.

If the hostiles were biological, David would’ve vented the atmosphere in the areas they occupied or flooded those compartments with knockout gas. But nothing in our arsenal will even slow them down except Saurian plasma rifles. The swarm’s quick adaptation to the modified particle beams was a shock too.

David hesitated, running different courses of action through his mind. “Pull our forces back, and protect the bridge and the primary reactor room at all costs. Use whatever means possible to slow the nanites.”

“Force fields are it, sir.”

“Master Chief, secure the bridge, and seal the hatch.”

“Should we leave the Marines in the corridor, sir?”

David shook his head. “No. Clear deck one of all personnel besides us.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

Whatever happened in the next few minutes, many good men and women would die. And he could do nothing about it besides stay the course and make their sacrifice mean something. “TAO, stand by to deploy the shield pulse.”

“We’re rapidly approaching the red line, sir,” Ruth replied. “Much more drain, and we won’t have enough power to keep the deflectors online, much less execute the plan.”

David punched up engineering on his chair-mounted intercom. “Major Hanson, come in.”

“Go ahead, sir.”

“I need you to route every shred of power you can to the shields.”

“Trying, sir, but we’ve got a lot of ruptured conduits.”

David blew out a breath. “This is for all the marbles, Major. Whatever it takes, without regard to safety constraints.”

“Understood, sir.”

The commlink went dead with a click, leaving David to stare forward. HaShem, help us to finish the fight. He could do nothing else except wait.

Calvin and a few other Marines sent more bursts of Saurian plasma fire down the passageway. They’d retreated in a linear manner through the corridor, using the internal force fields to slow the nanite entity’s progress. Globs of melted nanites lay on the deck for a dozen meters.

But for all their efforts, the enemy wasn’t stopping.

“I’m out of charge, sir!” a corporal behind Calvin yelled.

“Raise the next force field,” Calvin said as he took a few steps back. The momentary reprieve allowed them to reload. He cued his commlink. “Master Guns, how’s it looking over there?”

“BOHICA, sir” came the gruff voice of Master Gunnery Sergeant Reuben Menahem. “Delaying tactics at best.”

“Same, but we need to buy some time for the squids.”

“’Tis the story of a Marine’s life.”

Calvin shook his head, causing his power armor to rotate from side to side. “Hold the line as long as you can.”

“Will do, sir. And it’s been an honor, Colonel. If we don’t make it, I wanted you to know.”

“No talk like that, Marine. We get through this, and we go home.”

“From your lips to God’s ears, sir.”

In front of them, the nanite forms probed the force field with their sleek alloy tendrils. Calvin thought of what was left between them and the gravlift to deck one. Only one more bulkhead. “Marines, fall back five meters. Take cover positions. Who’s got plasma grenades?”

“Two left, sir!”

“One!”

“I’m out!”

Calvin turned. “Only three, huh? Okay.” Plus the two I’m carrying. “We make our stand here. Jenkins, right side with a fire team. I’ll take the left with the rest of you sorry lot. Make every shot count, gentlemen.”

Under the relentless hammering of the nanite entities, the force-field generator overloaded and blew out with a loud electrical bang. The forms plowed forward, and the Marines unleashed hell.

“Pulse, over!” Calvin yelled as he pulled the pin on the small round object and tossed it into the path of the hostiles. The others added two more, and all three exploded. Producing tightly packed explosions with extremely high temperatures, the conflagration melted one of the nanite forms to the deck.

Unthinking and uncaring, the remaining nanite constructs advanced despite the withering plasma barrage. Calvin deployed his final grenade, but it had little effect. He cued his commlink. “General, whatever you’re going to do, now’s the time.”

“Getting close, but we’ve got a minute or two,” David replied.

Calvin held down the trigger on his plasma rifle. I don’t think you’ve got it, sir. As molten alloy dropped to the deck, he thought of his wife and son. At least I got to see them on a screen. That’s better than nothing. Hey, God, if you’re up there… we could use an assist right about now. Calvin let out a guttural roar as the barrage continued. “Give ’em everything you’ve got, Marines! Nothing gets through!”

35

“Say again, Colonel,” David barked into the commlink in his chair.

“The damn things are every—”

As the words cut off, a series of pain-filled howls filled the line.

David couldn’t tell if it was Calvin’s voice or other Marines, but the sound cut him to his core. He had to push the knowledge that he was probably listening to his friend die out of his mind. They’ll be here next. HaShem, watch over Calvin’s soul, and take him into Your care. Decades of fighting the League had made David relatively unafraid of death. How’d Seville put it? Death is a constant companion that walks beside us. But being dissolved by intelligent microscopic robots wasn’t high on his list of a way to go.

“If they get through the lift…” an enlisted rating shrieked from the back of the bridge.

“Stow that!” David called out, forcing steel into his voice. “We do our jobs until the last possible moment. You get me, people?”

“Sir, yes, sir,” Tinetariro barked.

“Navigation, ETA to our target depth?”

“Forty-five seconds, sir,” Hammond replied.

Too far. They didn’t have enough time. “TAO, stand by to activate the pulse.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

Tentacles of nanites erupted from the tunnel and hammered at the Lion’s armor plate and superstructure, making pieces of the ship break off. Some of the spears kept going and flooded the interior.

That’s how they’re boarding us faster than we can destroy them. In the back of David’s mind, he knew he’d led them all to their deaths. HaShem, forgive me. I tried to do what was right, but I’ve gotten us all killed. Please, help our sacrifice to mean something.

“Sir, the hatch is melting!” Tinetariro yelled. Even the unflappable master chief’s voice was an octave higher than usual.

David glanced back to see molten globs of alloy falling to the deck. “TAO, activate the pulse now.”

“It won’t go, sir. Our shields have collapsed. There’s not enough power left—”

An ear-piercing shriek drew David’s attention. As he turned, part of the hatch to the passageway beyond bounced off the deck, and streams of liquid-metal alloy rushed through. They enveloped multiple crewmen.

Tinetariro raised an energy-pulse sidearm and stroked the trigger. A blue-red beam connected with the nearest tentacle but had no effect except to draw attention.

David jumped from his chair and vaulted over the railing to Ruth’s console. “Redirect all power to our shields, and try again.”

She tapped a few buttons before shaking her head and slamming her fist into the console. “No good, sir. I’m sorry.”

As her voice faded, the alloy wrapped around David’s body. Pain enveloped him, and his vision went dark. The nanites even forced their way into his mouth, and panic unlike he had ever felt coursed through his brain. HaShem, help me!

David realized that death was near. Though his mouth no longer functioned, he thought the Shema with his final moments. Hear, O’Israel, the Lord is our God. The Lord is One. Blessed is the name of His glorious kingdom forever and ever. Consciousness faded, and one of his final thoughts was shame for failing to stop the scourge.

Nearly every modified Vulture in the fleet was expended, and while a few fighters had heat-seeking warheads available, they were totally ineffective against the nanites. Justin wasn’t even sure why they’d been loaded. Probably some crusty crew chief who knew you don’t go into combat without at least two IR seekers.

Combat had devolved into a series of deadly dogfights marked by increasingly challenging-to-defeat nanite maneuvers. Justin had performed the Pugachev’s Cobra twice before the swarmers adapted and nearly blew his Phantom out of the void on the third use.

The hostile currently on his tail flung everything it had at him in the form of energy-weapons blasts and nanite projectiles.

Justin rolled away from a burst of fire, but the craft on his six followed through instantaneously. “Alpha Two, a little help over here,” he got out. The nearly constantly elevated g-force made it difficult to breathe.

“Wilco,” Amir replied. He sounded as winded as Justin did.

There’s one trick I haven’t tried yet. Justin searched for the control to disengage the artificial-gravity generator, which would enable something Gabriel Whatley had done regularly. It took him a moment to find it because of the withering barrage of attacks from the swarmer occupying most of his brain space.

Finally, Justin toggled his grav generator off and used the Phantom’s thrusters to gimble around while maintaining forward motion. He squeezed the integrated trigger for his fighter’s neutron cannons and sent a few dozen bolts into the nanite craft.

When Amir joined in, the barrage from both pilots neatly bisected the hostile and left it nothing more than a cloud of small debris.

They had no time to celebrate the win. Like an automaton, Justin picked the next-closest target and checked angles to see if he could attack.

“MacIntosh to Spencer.”

“I’m a little busy right now, Andrew.”

“We’ve got to pull the fleet out, Mr. President. The Lion of Judah can’t be reached, and the hole she blasted in the side of the hive has closed. I believe we can get sixty percent of our ships to the wormhole before destroying it from the Milky Way side.”

“Not yet,” Justin replied.

“Sir, we have to go before everything is lost.”

I know on some level, he’s right. But I don’t believe God will abandon us now. “Five more minutes, Andrew. Then we’ll see about a retreat.”

“Yes, sir,” MacIntosh grumbled.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to try to stay alive for another five minutes.”

“Godspeed, sir.”

Justin tightened his grip on the flight stick and rolled to his left. It would be the longest five minutes of his life.

36

Seconds then minutes passed. Or perhaps no time went by at all. David had always wondered what the afterlife might be like and feared HaShem’s judgment for all the sins he’d committed throughout his life. There was no bright light or feeling of warmth and peace like those who had reported near-death experiences for centuries.

Instead, David felt nothing but a dark void for a moment, and the next, his eyes opened.

He blinked several times, unwilling to believe what he was seeing. My apartment on Canaan? How can this be? Yet it was. The bedroom was spare. David preferred it that way, as he was rarely in the small space. There were no knickknacks and only a few pictures of his mother, father, and extended family.

It took several minutes for the room to stop spinning. When it did, he walked into the hallway. How did I get here? Finding it difficult to believe the afterlife looked like that, David walked into his living room and tried to power on the holoprojector.

Nothing happened beyond the device beeping at him.

“Activate commlink dialer.”

“Whom do you wish to call?” a robotic female voice answered.

“Um, General MacIntosh. Private line.”

After a pause, the voice said, “Unable to connect.”

“Activate emergency beacon.”

Another pause followed, and the voice replied, “Unable to connect.”

That made even less sense. The call centers providing police, fire, and emergency medical services were never dark.

David decided to venture outside. He returned to his bedroom and opened a biometrically protected safe in the nightstand, where he kept a loaded sidearm. The cover popped up to reveal an empty compartment.

His heart pounding, David turned and walked out of the apartment. A sixty-story elevator ride later deposited him in the lobby of the main building. It, too, was devoid of people. “Is anyone here?” he called out.

The only answer was an echo in the vast two-story entrance.

David strode to the exit and waited for the automatic door. Once it opened, he headed out onto the sidewalk that lay beyond. On what should’ve been a bustling street with thousands, if not tens of thousands of people from all walks of life on it at any given time of day, there was nothing, not even a hovercar.

Fighting fear the likes of which he’d never felt before, David turned around wildly, hoping to catch a glimpse of someone, something… anything. HaShem, where are you? Where am I? Is this being cut off from You and Your creation? Or am I somehow still alive and in an alternate reality? The possibilities were endless, as was his stark terror.

Dr. Hayworth opened his eyes to find himself in a lab that had shelves upon shelves of scientific equipment that mainly seemed geared toward medical research. As a result, he didn’t know what half of the items did. The last thing he remembered was the nanites enveloping him. I doubt I imagined that. So where am I?

He took a few steps to a counter and opened a cabinet. The tactile response from touching it was in line with what his brain would expect. Hayworth touched several other things, including a tablet and cloth, to test what they felt like. Interesting. The air was crisp. A remarkable facsimile.

Perhaps I’m dying, and this is my brain’s last few seconds of trying to make sense of it all. Hayworth immediately dismissed that hypothesis. No, more likely, something more sinister is going on. Perhaps the nanites want to gain information from us. They could establish a neural link to mine our subconscious minds. While that particular concept was terrifying, he realized with a shock that he wasn’t scared.

“You are wrong.”

Hayworth knew no one else was in the room, but he checked again to be sure.

“You do not believe,” the disembodied voice continued. “And for that, you will be punished.”

“Not by you.” Hayworth crossed his arms. “I know exactly what this is. An attempt to plumb our secrets and determine how the weapon works. You will gain nothing from me and especially not by impersonating a deity that doesn’t exist in the first place.”

“You will be punished.”

Hayworth steeled himself. For a moment, he briefly considered the possibility that he was wrong about God and the afterlife. Then he pushed the thought aside. This is nothing more than mental torture, and while I may not be a soldier, I can resist.

“You will bow before me.”

“Never.”

“We shall see.”

A pounding headache the likes of which Aibek had never felt before greeted him as he opened his eyes. The air was thick with a metallic smell. It took him a few moments to place it as blood. While it was dark, Aibek could make out some of the room’s features. The flickering of flames sent shadows dancing everywhere.

Then a stench hit Aibek’s nostrils, making him want to somehow close them off. Where am I? The last thing he remembered was losing consciousness after being enveloped by the nanite flood. It stood to reason that he was dead. Processing that bit of information altered his perception.

No, it could not be.

His eyes adjusted to the darkness, and additional details came into focus. On a far wall lay another Saurian tortured beyond recognition and tied in chains. Old script above him proclaimed, Coward!

Something no Saurian felt coursed through his veins: fear. The scene had all the trappings of the chamber of dishonor, where those who refused to fight or harmed the innocent were sent to prepare them for everlasting torment.

“Unclean!”

Aibek wrenched his head around just in time to see another of his kind slam something into his head. The blow knocked him to his knees. After a moment, he realized the object was a ceremonial censer used by Saurian priests to burn incense.

He raised his hand just in time to stop the next blow. “Stop! I served with honor. What is the meaning of this?”

The priest took a step back. “Honor? You, the most disgusting of all our kind, claim to hold honor?”

“Tell me my sins!” Aibek roared. He knew he wasn’t blameless and had done his share of misdeeds over the course of his life.

“You abandoned your people to serve another. You caused countless of our kind to perish and turned your back on the Prophet.”

“No! I wielded my blade to protect the innocent. Standing with the humans is what the Prophet would have wanted. It is in his word!”

Aibek tried to roll out of the way as the censer flew downward, but he wasn’t successful. The heavy alloy slammed into his elbow, which gave way with a sickening crack.

As Aibek snarled in agony, two more Saurians appeared behind the priest.

“Bring him. We have much work to do before he is ready for damnation,” one said.

Why? Repeated over and over in Aibek’s mind. Second-guessing every action in his life as he endured unspeakable torture, he wondered what the correct answer was. It seemed to stretch for eternity.

David had covered half a kilometer without seeing a soul. He’d peered into shops, restaurants, and hotels to find them empty, as if a moment before he arrived, every last person on the planet had disappeared. The streets were lined with parked hovercars, and the trees rustled in the wind, giving off a forlorn sound.

He’d never experienced anything quite like it. Part of him was sure he was dead and in the afterlife, or perhaps it was the last dying gasps of his brain’s neurons firing. But that didn’t make sense because of how much time had elapsed.

Perhaps time no longer exists for me. The texts do say that HaShem doesn’t experience time as we do. The only thing he was sure of was that walking around a deserted city was far scarier than fighting nanites or Leaguers. Onward he walked, block after block.

The wind wasn’t too biting, and he felt comfortable in his khaki service uniform. At some point, David began to enjoy the stroll. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been able to go somewhere and relax without being bombarded with dozens of messages an hour. Even on his honeymoon with Bo’hai, as abbreviated as it had been, the work never stopped.

I pray she is safe. David knew in his heart she was and that, somehow or another, his mother would take care of her and their unborn son. That knowledge gave him peace.

As he walked past another skyscraper that reached into the heavens, he asked, “Is anyone here?”

“What an interesting question.”

David whirled around to see a figure standing a meter away. It was humanoid in shape and vaguely male, but he couldn’t quite make out the face. “Who are you?”

“Is that not obvious? Where you are now ought to be as well.”

David gulped. “This is the beyond? I expected something different, I suppose.”

“Most do.”

“But a planet from the Terran Coalition?” David spread out his hands. “That’s what heaven looks like?”

“It’s a waiting room, to use your parlance.”

The figure and how it communicated felt off-putting to David. He couldn’t put his finger on what exactly, but in the previous interactions he believed he’d had with the Almighty, that feeling hadn’t been there.

“Why?

“So your soul can process what’s happened to you.”

David pursed his lips. “How long does it take?”

“Once you’ve processed a few final actions and the circumstances of your death, you can move on.”

“The last thing I remember was being on the Lion of Judah’s bridge. We were trying to defeat the nanites.”

“How?”

David tilted his head. “You know how.”

“It helps if you can verbalize the acts.”

What started as off-putting grew to a five-alarm fire in David’s mind. This isn’t right. HaShem wouldn’t need to quiz me on what I did. He backed away slowly. “You know all.”

“Do as instructed if you don’t wish to harm your chances of entering paradise.”

David narrowed his eyes. Now I’m sure something is very wrong. “God wouldn’t say something like that. I’ve studied His word for decades. He is a loving God who does not make idle threats over simple things.”

“Obey me, or suffer the consequences of your fate. Tell me what you tried to do.”

“No.” David stood firmly. “I don’t know what you are, but you aren’t HaShem. And I will not betray my soldiers.”

“Then you will pay for your insolence.”

Thunder ripped across the heavens as dark clouds erupted from out of nowhere. David knew that whatever was about to happen would be terrible. And he was powerless, which wasn’t something he was used to facing. HaShem, wherever I am, whatever trial this is, stand with me. I am but Your humble servant.

37

The sky turned from a brilliant blue to reddish gray in seconds, leaving David astounded. He started to wonder if he wasn’t dead, and perhaps the nanites had a mental interface. That would explain a few things. All around him, reality buckled. Skyscrapers disappeared without a trace, the road folded in on itself, and in seconds, all that was left was rocky, powder-like black dirt. He bent down to touch it and realized whatever the substance was, it felt like ash.

A dark shimmer ripped the air nearby, and a similar being to the other one appeared, but its form was liquid and elastic.

My God, it is the nanites. David stumbled backward as he looked around wildly for anything to use as a weapon. This must be a construct in my mind. Or some kind of hive mind.

“Why do you resist? You cannot fight us.”

The voice came from nowhere and everywhere all at once.

“I will not give in.”

“Give us the information on the weapon. We will grant you long life and dominion over whatever realm you wish in the physical world.”

“No! Never!” David kept backing up. “I will not betray my oath, my people, or HaShem.”

Laughter echoed. “We are your god. We have the power to create or destroy an entire universe.”

“HaShem is the Lord. He alone is God. There is no one before Him.”

“Even if this being exists, we are just as powerful.”

“No, you’re not.”

Pain shot through David, making him think every cell in his body was suddenly on fire. He fell to his knees as a scream erupted from his mouth. The pain was more intense than anything he’d ever felt, which said a lot for a man who’d been wounded more times than he could count.

“We alone have the power to save you and your species. Surrender. Give us the information we seek, and all things will be yours, David Cohen.” The figure shimmered in and out of existence as it spoke. Ripples of gray morphed into a roughly humanoid shape.

It took every ounce of willpower David had to force his mind and voice to work. “No.”

Again, horrific pain flowed through him like a mighty rushing river. He gave in to the pain and emitted a bloodcurdling cry before collapsing to the ground, writhing in agony.

The figure bent over and reached out a disembodied hand. “Surrender to us.”

“Choose you this day who you will serve,” David whispered hoarsely. “But as for me… and my house… we will serve the Lord.”

Once more, the burning took David, and he flailed on the ground.

“If you do not serve, there are others. Some will obey us, and we will gain access to what we seek.”

David had spent time ruminating on what the nature of evil truly was. He always tried to avoid ascribing people’s behavior to a natural evil inclination or using the label because he believed it suppressed reasonable debate. Faced with the nanite construct torturing him, David realized it was possibly the purest evil he’d ever encountered. An involuntary shiver went through him, even though the air felt like a sauna.

“I will not give in,” David finally ground out. “And none of my people will, either.”

The figure’s face twisted before liquid alloy appendages shot out and impaled David straight through his ribs and pinned him into the ground.

David screamed again. He kept trying to tell himself that everything was inside of his head and by definition not real. Yet it was indistinguishable from reality.

“We will devour you. Then we will take everything in this universe to create more of us.” The being’s face appeared a few centimeters from David’s. “And when that is accomplished, we will find and eliminate this so-called One God you worship.”

David knew his death was approaching. Because of the blood flowing freely from the wounds in his chest and that the nanites had overrun the Lion, it was the next logical event. Adonai, do not desert me now. Please, give me strength to finish the last few steps of the race.

“No, you will not.”

The voice that had spoken was distinctive and not the one used by the nanite form.

David wondered if perhaps he was hallucinating as another figure appeared. But it was familiar. He blinked, trying to clear his eyes, and realized the newcomer wore a CDF uniform that bore the logistical corps insignia.

As the nanite form reared up and moved toward him, the man raised his hand in a slow, almost gentle motion. One moment, the liquid alloy was flowing. The next, it was frozen in place.

“Who are you?” David whispered with some of his last reserves of strength.

The man knelt next to him, and his name tag came into view. It read Private Waters.

Understanding swept over David as Waters placed his hand on the gurgling wounds. Instantly, they were healed. Though he’d been seconds from death before, David suddenly felt better than he had in years. All pain and mental and physical fatigue left his body. Why did HaShem come to help? Why now?

Waters helped him to his feet, smiling. “Feeling better?”

Peace unlike David had ever felt before washed over him. “Much.” He opened his mouth and closed it several times. “How… What… What happened here?”

“Not everything is entirely what it seems.” Waters gestured to the frozen alloy. “This being, it represents the very worst of my Creation. The desire for wealth, knowledge, power, and control taken to awful extremes. I purposely made it impossible for civilizations to advance as far as some of my first creations did because of this.”

A light bulb turned on in David’s mind. “That sounds like—”

“The Tower of Babel.”

“I always thought that was a story, perhaps a warning.”

Waters turned and stared at him sharply. “Do not Orthodox Jews hold every word in the Tanakh as My word?”

“Yes, but—”

“There is no but. It is, or it isn’t.”

David opened his mouth to speak but couldn’t think of what to say.

“Everything in there is true.” Waters shrugged. “Humans may not entirely understand it yet, but it’s all true.”

“The obelisks… Why not destroy them?”

Waters shook his head. “Because they serve their purpose on occasion. Such as this one.”

“Where are we?”

“Your mind. What you call the swarm has overrun the Lion of Judah and taken most of the crew prisoner. It was hoping to gain enough information about the Optami weapon that they could defeat the rest of the alliance.”

David’s face blanched. “They did this to everyone?”

“Yes.”

“Then… My people, they’re still alive?”

Waters nodded. “Yes.”

“What… Now, then? Right before I was taken, the shields had failed.”

“I think what you’re trying to ask is ‘How do I win?’” Waters grinned.

David chuckled sheepishly. “To boil it down, yes.”

“Sometimes, humans…” Waters laughed softly. “Do you ever learn? This isn’t a problem you can solve.”

“I know,” David replied. “But I—”

“Don’t want to bother me. Yes, I still know every thought you have. And no, you’re not imagining this interaction as you die.”

David blinked. “Forgive me.”

Waters put a hand on David’s shoulder. “I do. I always have. Now, I want you to listen to me carefully. In a few moments, you are going to wake up on the bridge of the Lion of Judah. You will be free of the nanites’ influence, and so will Ruth. The shields will be fully recharged. Send the pulse, and end this threat.”

“But our deflector generators had collapsed.”

“I made the universe. You don’t think I can alter the power state of a simple piece of technology?”

David licked his lips. “At the Third Battle of Canaan, You told me it wasn’t Your policy to openly perform miracles.”

“And it’s not.” Waters shrugged. “To any outside observer, you will have been lucky once more. You and I, though, we know the truth.”

“I was sure the fleet would pull this out,” David replied. “Human hubris, I suppose.”

“There are some things only I can do. This is one of them. To put it in terms you can understand… I used my creation to get the ball down to the five-yard line. Now I’m punching it in myself.”

God’s using a sports metaphor was almost too much for David’s mind. He stared open-mouthed for a few moments before nodding. “Then?”

“Finish it. Defeat the adversary with My help.”

“I will.”

“Walk in My will. Do not depart from My teachings, and remember: I am always with you.”

David wanted to bawl his eyes out. The overwhelming love emanating from Waters was something he couldn’t put into words—not that he would ever be able to tell another soul.

One moment, he was there, on the desolate plains, having a conversation with what he believed was God’s avatar. The next, he was falling through the void, and everything went black.

38

As he slowly opened his eyes, faint sounds echoed in David’s mind. The familiar sight of the Lion of Judah’s bridge greeted him. Except everywhere he looked, there were pillars of liquid metallic alloy. While they weren’t moving, he could determine from the shapes that each surrounded a person. The image terrified him as he scrambled to his feet. Find Ruth.

David moved around a shimmering tower of alloy that blocked his view to find the navigation station completely engulfed but tactical clear of nanites. He took a few steps forward to see Ruth slumped over her console.

No sound registered on the bridge besides the footfalls of David’s feet on the metal deck plates.

“Ruth,” David called as he shook her, then he pulled her unconscious form back and checked for a pulse. Strong and steady.

First, she gave a low moan, then she finally opened her eyes only to shrink back and scream.

“It’s okay. You’re safe. Back in reality,” David said in the best calming tone he could muster.

“General…” Ruth coughed before gasping. “Robert… Where’s Robert? Oh my God.” She stared wild-eyed at the pillars of nanites planted throughout the bridge. “Is that—”

“Ruth. Focus. We’re the only ones who can fix this. I need you to check deflector status.”

After a few moments, she nodded and turned to the console. “This can’t be. They’re fully charged.”

“Can you direct the pulse so that it sweeps through the ship before spreading out?”

“I think so. With full power, I… Yes.”

“Do it.”

“Did they… It was in my brain, sir. The horrible things they did, wanting the secrets of the weapon.” Tears streamed down Ruth’s face.

David put a hand on her shoulder. “I know. We’ll get through it but after we wipe them from the face of the universe.”

“Yes, sir.” Ruth tapped at the controls for a few minutes. “I think I’ve got it, but it would be nice to get Hanson to review my math.”

“We’re the only ones awake.”

“But how do you know—”

“Execute.” David pointed at the console.

“Aye, aye, sir.”

Ruth exhaled as she pressed one of the buttons.

At first, nothing happened. Then a sensation that reminded David of crackling electricity shot through him. All around them, the shimmering towers of nanites collapsed as trace clouds of powder fell to the deck. Encased crewmen and officers fell across the bridge as almost all of them woke up upon colliding with something hard.

Coughing, moans, screams, and everything in between echoed from one side of the control room to the other. Most seemed to gather their wits quickly, but some were more affected than others.

Aibek raised his head and hissed loudly. “By the Prophet, what was that?”

“Felt like what I imagine a bad drug trip would be,” Hayworth called out weakly.

David struggled to return to the CO’s chair. His steps were unsteady, and he felt he would collapse at any moment. “Medical team to the bridge.”

“Sir, look!” Ruth shouted.

His eyes went to the windows in front of Ruth and Hammond. The sight was astounding. A wave of blue-purple energy blasted in all directions, melting the solid nanite construct in its wake. On and on, the pulse went, like an avenging angel, leaving nothing but open void behind it.

“My God. It’s working.”

“Confirmed, sir,” Ruth replied. “Twenty percent of the swarm’s mass destroyed. Thirty… Forty… Fifty.”

Blackness still enveloped the Lion of Judah, but as the wave reached farther and farther, specks of light appeared. David stared in wonder as the hive disintegrated. This thing… has killed countless billions if not trillions of people across HaShem only knows how many species. Today, by His hand, it is finally destroyed. The concept was awe-inspiring, to say nothing of the execution.

“Nearly one hundred percent, sir,” Ruth said, her voice cracking. “Complete elimination of Master One confirmed.”

All at once, cheers broke out on the Lion’s bridge. Aibek gave a guttural roar that attracted attention, but as it was clear the sound was his approval, the celebration continued.

Even Hayworth stood and slapped an enlisted rating next to him on the back, wearing a smile.

Master Chief Tinetariro appeared as if she was about to silence them, but David waved her off. They’ve earned this one. By God, we all have. He counted off thirty seconds before nodding at her.

“Maintain proper bridge decorum, and resume your stations!” she barked.

A moment later, the tumult ceased.

David blew out a breath. “Okay. We’re not out of this yet. Comms, find out where that medical team is. Colonel, I need a damage report yesterday.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” Aibek and Taylor echoed.

“One last thing, everyone. Bravo zulu. That was one of our finest hours.” David smiled. He felt an incredible amount of pride in how his crew had responded to the nanite threat over the last two years. While divine help carried them over the finish line, that took nothing away from the sacrifices and hard work of every man and woman in the fleet. And it is an honor to lead them.

As the compression wave ripped through the hive’s structure, disrupting the bonds between the nanites and removing their ability to communicate, it had several seconds to consider its fate. For a biological entity, that would’ve meant little beyond a stray thought or two.

For the hive, it was an eternity. Every action it took was examined, evaluated, and tested. The decision to gain the knowledge of the precursors, even in hindsight, was the correct one. Of this, we are sure.

Yet it had all led to ruin. When the hive processed why its defeat had occurred, there was only one explanation: the all-powerful being the biological beings worshipped had intervened and defeated it.

Hate and anger surged through every remaining connection as the swarm grappled with how it could channel its bile into an effective attack. It quickly realized there was nothing more it could do as more and more processing power slipped away.

The final instructions sent to the still-functioning individual forms fighting the humans and their allies were to try to escape. Perhaps they could regenerate and regrow the hive in time, though it seemed unlikely.

With its last computations, the hive screamed its hate for God into the void, calling on any who would oppose Him to come to its aid. Ultimately, the swarm accepted that the supreme being was more powerful and had bested them—for the moment.

But we will not give up. As long as one unit remains, we will seek a way to survive and eventually destroy the being.

39

“TAO, where the hell are my neutron beams?” Savchenko barked.

Miller turned. “Still rerouting power through half a dozen busted conduits, sir.”

“Reroute faster.”

In the end, it didn’t matter if they got off one or two more volleys. The nanite swarm was a superior force, and the SATO fleet was like a doomed man being dragged kicking and screaming to the gallows. But the alternative was to quit fighting, and Savchenko would never give up. It wasn’t in his blood. He would fight until the last moment and fire the weapons himself if he had to.

“Conn, TAO…” She paused. “Sir… uh… Aspect change, Master One. Its mass is decreasing. Rapidly.”

The timbre of her voice attracted the attention of everyone on the bridge.

“Explain that, Lieutenant,” Savchenko replied.

Before she could open her mouth, holes appeared in the surface of the hive. As they all stared in wonder, the sphere seemed to disintegrate in front of them.

“Are my eyes playing tricks on me, Lieutenant?”

“No, sir. Master One… is destroyed, sir. Trace minerals detected, but that’s it.”

“Son of a… Cohen pulled it off!” Savchenko roared as he pumped his fist.

Immediately, cheers broke out among the enlisted personnel, and even Masoud and the watch officers joined in. With the elimination of the hive, incoming weapons fire ceased almost entirely within seconds.

“Conn, TAO.” Miller exhaled forcefully before she continued. “Nanite contacts behaving erratically, sir. Random course changes, and they’ve ceased shooting either energy weapons or projectiles, for the most part.”

Masoud stared open-mouthed out into the void. “Incredible. The Lion of Judah’s attack must have crippled them.”

Savchenko vaguely remembered a science briefing that Hayworth had put on. Should’ve paid more attention to that. “We’ve got them on the run, people. Now it’s time to finish this. TAO, firing point procedures, neutron beams. Target the nearest hostile.”

“Firing solutions set, sir.”

He gave a fierce warrior’s grin. “Match bearings, shoot, neutron beams.”

All around the CSV Margaret Thatcher, other SATO vessels did the same, redoubling their efforts. The nanites seemed to be capable of little more than running. That suited Savchenko just fine.

Justin whipped his Phantom around in yet another tight, tail-turning dogfight with a nanite swarmer. He’d already exchanged places several times with the enemy, and each craft had landed shots on the other. So far, his fighter’s shields held. Yet it seemed as if each combat got more challenging as the nanites’ abilities improved. It’s like a nugget going from zero to super ace in one battle.

The swarmer juked slightly to the right and left, throwing off his shots at the last second. Justin repeatedly overcorrected and filled the void with neutron-cannon bolts rather than his quarry. He adjusted and squeezed off another volley, none of which hit their intended target.

After several more such attempts, the hostile accelerated and began an impossibly tight turn.

Justin moved to follow, even though the g-force was punishing.

Then something odd happened. The nanite craft pulled into a straight line for several seconds. It gave Justin enough time to line up and drill several neutron blasts into it, reducing the swarmer to nothing but a trace dust cloud.

That was strange. The nanites making such an obvious error in combat was new. Justin chalked it up to blind luck until the commlink came alive with cheering. He checked his sensor screen and confirmed what the pilots and ships’ communication officers were screaming about: the nanite “moon” was gone. Justin took a moment to thank God before putting two and two together. They’re vulnerable.

Another swarmer veered into his forward weapons envelope, and Justin put it down with ruthless efficiency.

He cued his commlink to the all-fighters channel. “This is Spencer. The enemy is having some kind of issue. Now’s our chance to finish this. Do your duty. Good luck and Godspeed, people.”

Justin whipped around and shot down another nanite craft moving in a straight line. This is way too easy.

“Mr. President, can you hear me?” MacIntosh broke into the commlink.

“Go ahead, Andrew.”

“Sir, you should head back. No reason to continue mop-up operations, if that’s where we are. I’m not willing to declare victory yet, but the Coalition needs her president out of danger.”

Justin knew that MacIntosh’s heart was in the right place, and he was genuinely concerned for his well-being. But it didn’t change what he had to do. “Andrew, I’m staying out here until the last swarmer is shot down or my Phantom is too damaged to operate.”

“Sir—”

“I gave my word, and on it, the Saurians committed.”

“Even Chief Minister Sherazi would concede you’ve kept your end of the deal.”

Justin shrugged, even though no one could see him. “It doesn’t matter. I’m going to see this through.”

“Understood, sir.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll still be there for you to yell at in a few hours.”

MacIntosh chuckled. “I intend to, sir.”

“Spencer out.”

A cluster of hostiles stood out on the sensor overlay for Justin’s HUD. He adjusted the course of his Phantom and prepared to engage.

Mishka Vog’t had spent the entire battle in the Zeivlot continuity-of-government bunker, surrounded by dozens of military and civilian advisors. She’d allowed them all to bring their families, not because the hardened structure would offer any protection from the nanite horde but because no one should die alone in such a time.

They’d huddled around monitors, watching on the giant screens on the joint-operations command floor or wherever they could.

For hours, there was little talking, only terrified people holding their loved ones and waiting to die. Vog’t had repeatedly flashed back to the two times she’d been in the same place, doing the same thing, over the last three years.

Maker willing, this is the last time.

Vog’t had, as much as she could, made peace with herself and prayed for forgiveness. I thought there would be more time. She supposed that was something many billions of people between Zeivlot and Zavlot were feeling.

It was also challenging to watch in real time as thousands if not tens or hundreds of thousands of soldiers fought and gave their lives for people who weren’t even of the same species. Three years ago, she would’ve said the concept was preposterous. Yet there they sat, praying that an alliance of three species, two Sextans B races, and their homegrown space fleet would be victorious.

Vog’t also realized without being told by War Leader Ceren that the Zeivlot- and Zavlot-crewed vessels had suffered a far higher rate of loss. That fact spoke to their gallantry, but it hurt all the same. Many families would be missing a father, son, mother, or daughter, and she could do nothing to affect the outcome.

Except pray. Vog’t, like most Zeivlots, believed wholeheartedly that the Maker had created the universe, their planet, and them. But she kept her faith at arm’s length, in an antiseptic kind of way. Not today. She’d gotten on her knees more than once, tears streaming down her face as she begged God to save them.

So had many others. Vog’t realized that it said something bad about her that she didn’t turn to the Maker except when everything had fallen apart and the mass extermination of her world was at hand. It’s not isolated either. I did the same thing after the missiles flew. She’d spent much time on introspection, wondering how she could’ve done better.

The result was the acceptance of a most unwelcome fact: that Vog’t was a creature of politics who traded favors, and while she’d outwardly proclaimed to be a different type of leader, that was far from the truth. I have lied, cheated, and stolen. I dress it up as being for the greater good. Maybe I even believe that in my heart. But the Maker knows all.

As she waited for the end, Vog’t didn’t know where she would end up in the afterlife.

Out of the blue, a massive cheer erupted from the operations-center floor. Vog’t stood to see people hugging one another, and Ceren appeared at her side.

“Zupan, the humans have destroyed the hive! The Lion of Judah… it did what Cohen said they would. I was wrong to doubt him.”

Vog’t stared in disbelief. Only a few minutes before, all appeared lost. Deep inside her soul, she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that what had transpired wasn’t the work of Zeivlot, Zavlot, human, Saurian, Matrinid, or any other species. The Maker had blessed them. “Many red dots remain.”

“Our forces are running them down throughout the battle space. We’ve won. Something happened with the nanites. They’re not working right. Frankly, it’s over my head.”

Vog’t patted his arm. “And mine. But that does not matter.”

All around them, wild jubilation continued. Ceren moved off to keep doing his job, leaving Vog’t to process yet another reprieve from death, not only for her but for fourteen billion souls as well. Yet she couldn’t participate.

Conviction came from within every fiber of Vog’t’s being, and instead of cheering, thrilling, and clicking her tongue as loudly as possible—as the others were—she fell to her knees.

Maker, please forgive me. I cannot hope to change myself, but anything is possible if You will smile on me as You have our people today. For some time, she mentally recounted her many sins and asked for absolution. Once they had been named, while Vog’t did not hear a voice, she felt somewhere deep within that the Maker had granted her forgiveness along with a charge to go and sin no more.

She took it as a mission statement for the rest of her life.

40

What a difference fifteen minutes could make. David never ceased to be amazed by such things, as entire battles and the course of life itself could be changed so quickly. The Lion of Judah’s bridge had filled with additional personnel, mainly of the medical variety. Several crewmen received supplemental oxygen while medics loaded another onto an antigrav stretcher for transport.

David remained dazed as he replayed his experience while under the nanites’ influence repeatedly in his mind. HaShem saved us… me… yet again. It was incredibly humbling and a reminder of how little any individual or group of humans could influence the universe around them.

“I have a preliminary damage report, sir,” Aibek hissed. His face was more devoid of color than David had ever seen, and the Saurian’s scales were gray.

“Let’s hear it, Colonel.”

“Extensive hull breaches throughout decks five, six, and seven. And we’re unable to engage sublight engines because of ruptured power conduits affecting all decks.”

David furrowed his brow. “ETA to being able to maneuver?”

“Best guess from engineering is two to three hours.”

“Good thing we don’t have anywhere to be,” David replied, trying to inject some mirth into his voice.

“Almost all our weapons are offline, sir,” Ruth said as she breathed deeply.

She’s in shock. We probably all are, to some degree. “Communications, get me Dr. Tural on his handcomm.”

“Aye, aye, sir. Routed to your chair.”

“Yes, General?” Dr. Tural’s voice came through loud and clear.

“What’s our casualty status, Doctor?”

“Numerous wounded and a lot of breathing-relating issues. No fatalities yet.”

Thank you, Lord. David breathed a small sigh of relief. “Do you need any additional medical support?”

“I believe we should call in the hospital ships, sir. Our medical bay is overwhelmed, and some of these cases are severe. I’m unsure how the destroyed nanite material will interact with our bodies. Surgery could be required for at least a few soldiers.”

“Understood. We’ll get the ball rolling up here. Until then, good work on your efforts so far.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Have you seen Colonel Demood yet?” David almost didn’t want to ask after the sounds of terror from the Marines just prior to their being overrun.

“Not personally, but I know he’s alive and being treated along with the other deck-five defense teams. I understand they are in good spirits, claiming it takes more than gray goo to beat the Terran Coalition’s misguided children.”

David chuckled despite it all. The weight he had carried for two years was slowly starting to lift, though he doubted it would ever be entirely gone—not with the dozens if not hundreds of lost warships. Our losses must be in the tens of thousands. Yet their sacrifices had saved fourteen billion souls. If that wasn’t worth the cost, nothing was. “Thank God for that. I’ll let you get back to your duties, Doctor.”

“Tural out.”

“Communications, notify General MacIntosh on the CSV Abraham Lincoln that we need to bring in logistical support and hospital and rescue vessels.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

David recalled that the CSV Comfort was on station and standing by to receive casualties on the other side of the wormhole. While he sorely wished to be in the thick of the fight, helping to run down the remaining nanite forms, at least there was solace in the Lion’s survival and his crew’s well-being.

He turned to Aibek. “You seem troubled, my friend.”

“I am.”

“Something I could help with, perhaps?”

Aibek paused and turned away before rotating his head back. “I saw something disconcerting when the nanites overcame us. I was judged unworthy. It is difficult to contemplate.”

With all the hustle and bustle around them, no one was paying attention to the conversation, but David still kept his voice to almost a whisper. “Whatever you saw, it wasn’t real. They messed with my mind too. But whatever else those things are, they’re evil, Talgat. Don’t believe anything you saw.”

“I know this is true. Yet it seemed like reality. Everything was correct.”

David nodded. “Clearly, they could access our minds and use the memories within against us.”

Aibek’s face hardened. “We must eradicate this menace from the universe.”

“Couldn’t agree with you more,” David replied. “And the fleet is seeing to it.”

The CSV Salinan was shot to pieces, and it made Major John Wilson’s heart hurt. After his six years in command, the ship was an extension of him. More than once, nanite energy weapons had penetrated the hull, and while the masters-at-arms had contained the few liquid-alloy forms that made it aboard before blowing them out into the void, the damage from all of it was extensive.

Worst of all, one of the last barrages she’d endured had sliced off half the portside engine pod. But even after that, the ship still operated under full power. And she wasn’t out of the fight.

“TAO, reconfirm firing solution for Master Six Thousand Four Hundred Eighty-One.”

“Firing solution remains locked in, sir.”

Because of the engine damage, the Salinan’s speed was reduced by a third, which made catching up to the nanite ship in front of them challenging but not impossible. The moment the indicator for maximum range intersected the hostile contact, Wilson leaned forward. “Match bearings, shoot, forward neutron beams.”

The nanite construct melted under the barrage of the modified neutron beam. Second Lieutenant Dariush Fazel made the beams traverse a pattern on the exterior hull before enough damage was done to render the vessel inert. He’d learned well over the past three hours. “Master Six Thousand Four Hundred Eight-One disabled, sir.”

That was the last hostile within range, leaving them with a clear area of operations for rescue duty. “XO, are Senior Chief Stokes and his boys ready to save some lives?”

“They were born ready, sir,” Khattri replied.

Wilson couldn’t help but chuckle. “Navigation, bring us about to heading one-five-two, five degrees declination.” The course would take them into an area with a dozen disabled Coalition vessels. The Salinan’s docking collars would allow for a quick rescue operation, at least for crewmen trapped in the outer sections of the hull.

Khattri touched Wilson’s arm. “Did you notice this, sir?” He pointed at a life sign overlay.

“If I’m reading this right, there are a lot of people trapped over there, Captain.”

“A lot more than we’d expect from a complete disable, sir.”

Wilson tilted his head. “What do you make of it?”

“The nanites seemed to go for removing our ability to maneuver or shoot weapons. Most opponents, like the Leaguers, would try to take a reactor shot.”

“Hard kills, in other words.” Wilson gave a thin smile. “We liked to return the favor.”

“If this pattern holds, we’ll take a lot fewer casualties than I would’ve expected.”

Wilson laid his head back. “And thank the good Lord in heaven above for that.”

“Amen, sir.”

With the fleet transitioning to a focus on running down stragglers and preventing the few masses of nanites that remained from escaping the solar system, the Salinan could go back to her primary job: pulling escape pods in and freeing trapped soldiers.

In the recesses of Wilson’s mind, he allowed himself to look forward to going home to his wife and children. But that would have to wait until the battle and its recovery efforts were finished.

“Nanite vessels destroyed, Admiral,” Trang reported on the bridge of the Liberator. For the past half hour, the warship’s group had eliminated thousands of hostiles. The enemy had made it easy, flying in straight lines and barely shooting back. It was as if they’d lost the ability to fight or even think.

That suited James Henry just fine. While the Saurian and Matrinid fleets had fared pretty well against the enemy’s projectiles and beams, the ad hoc Independent Systems Federation Navy had taken it on the chin. Their escorts were decimated, especially among the non–military-specced vessels.

But none had broken or run from the fight, which was important to Henry. Having the catbird seat to the first genuine fleet engagement of SATO had proven to him more than anything else that the alliance was real and there to stay.

“Anything on our scopes?

“Only friendlies within one hundred thousand kilometers, sir.”

Henry nodded while he stroked his chin. “Are any of our allies still in active engagements?”

“No, Admiral. The Coalition is bringing in stealth raiders to conduct a grid search.”

“Understood.” Henry bit his lip. “Get me General MacIntosh on the Abraham Lincoln.”

Unlike CDF ships, which had what almost seemed like retro technology—flat-panel monitors and physical switches on control consoles—the Liberator was equipped with the latest holographic projectors and touchscreen systems that would’ve appeared at home in the newest holomovie.

As a result, when MacIntosh’s familiar form appeared on the holoprojector, the display included almost his entire body and half the Abraham Lincoln’s bridge. “Col—Admiral Henry.”

He flashed a grin. “I know. Still something to get used to, isn’t it, sir?”

“I’m still trying to get used to SATO, personally. But no disrespect was meant. I hope you know that.”

“None taken.” Henry had always felt that whatever his faults, MacIntosh was one of the best flag officers in uniform for the Coalition. “I was wondering how else we could be of service.”

“We’ve got a few dozen stealth raiders coming in to scan down every nook and cranny of this system to ensure we didn’t miss any nanites. If your fleet would care to join them to form hunter-killer teams, it would let me rest our pilots and get a handle on search-and-rescue efforts.”

“Consider it done,” Henry replied. He figured the CDF needed some help, but they would be too proud to ask.

“Thank you, Admiral.” MacIntosh paused. “I’d be remiss if I didn’t commend you for your forces’ bravery today. They performed superbly.”

“Yours, too, as well as our Matrinid and Saurian friends.”

“Too kind, Admiral. Well, I’d better get back to it over here. Good to talk to you, Henry.”

“Likewise, General. Godspeed.”

“Godspeed.”

Henry settled back in his chair. Despite the harshness of the losses, he had the warm feeling of a job well done. Some things were worth fighting and dying for. Saving fourteen billion innocents was one of them.

Justin’s sensor overlay showed there were no further hostile contacts anywhere in the system, and while specialized search vessels supported by Ajax-class destroyers would sweep the area for weeks to come, the battle was over. He’d insisted on being the last to land and had circled the Lion of Judah for some time.

Of the nearly one hundred sixty combat spacecraft launched from her flight deck, just over a hundred ten returned. The cost had been horrendously high, though search-and-rescue teams reported finding more ejected pilots than they had a right to expect.

The carnage was universal across all carriers engaged and even worse among the Zeivlot- and Zavlot-based Phantoms.

But that hadn’t dulled the bombast of any fighter jocks. They carried themselves with pride, as did Justin, for the combat they’d just endured was more intense and difficult than any engagement with the League of Sol.

“Mr. President, we’ve got bay A cleared for your arrival, sir. Anytime you’re ready,” the Lion of Judah’s air boss said.

“Understood,” Justin replied. “One last loop.”

“Of course, sir.”

Justin adjusted his flight path to give himself plenty of room to line up on the Lion’s landing skids. As he checked the approach vector, something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye.

What the… Justin turned his head to see what appeared to be three SF-86 Sabres matching speed with him, in formation. One of them waggled its wings. That’s not possible. He blinked, and they were gone, as if they’d never been there in the first place.

The loss of Mateus, Adeoye, Lowell, and Whatley, even though more than thirty years had passed, still haunted Spencer. They’d been more than just fellow brothers- and sisters-in-arms—they were friends for life. The holopicture he kept of the Red Tails Alpha element on his desk was an ever-present reminder of that friendship and the cost of war.

Unlike his old days as a squadron commander on the Zvika Greengold, automated landing sequences were the norm. Once he was close enough, the system took over and guided the Phantom. It set down on a pad toward the back of the hangar, and after powering down the reactor, Justin popped the canopy.

The scene before him was reminiscent of days gone by after a successful sortie. Even with the losses sustained, the aviation ratings were jubilant, as were the pilots. As they should be. We fought a civilization-ending threat and won, not for ourselves but for aliens in a different galaxy. If that’s not something to be proud of, I don’t know what is.

“It’s the president!” someone yelled, and the entire hangar deck was shouting as one before Justin could react.

“Spen-cer! Spen-cer! Spen-cer!”

“Brilliant flying, Mr. President!” a female ordnance rating yelled.

Amid the cheering and shouting, Amir walked over, still in his flight suit, though his helmet was off and strapped to his belt. “Good to have you back on deck, sir.”

Justin stuck out his hand. “Glad to still be here, Colonel. I’ve got you to thank for that several times.”

Amir shook his hand. “We’re more than even because you returned the favor in spades.”

“Who’s keeping count?” Justin had to yell to be heard.

The chant had changed to “CDF! CDF! CDF!” and it echoed from one end of the massive flight deck to the other.

“Thanks for flying with us, sir. You should run again, sir. We need a leader who knows how to fight,” a pilot yelled as he passed by.

Justin smiled but didn’t reply beyond giving a thumbs-up. I must be careful not to let this go to my head. Soon, my time in the Coalition’s political structure will be over, and no matter how much I might want to continue to help my country, I can never give in to the idea that with a little more time in office or more political power, I could get more done. That is the road that leads to totalitarianism.

Two protective service officers pushed through the crowd of cheering soldiers and pilots. “Mr. President, we need you to come with us, sir. Can’t protect you with this many people around,” the lead agent yelled as he struggled to be heard.

“It’s fine.”

“Sir, we have a protocol.”

“Agent Barnes, this is the safest place in the Terran Coalition right now,” Justin replied with a grin. “And we’re going to enjoy this moment for a bit before you remove me, okay?”

“Yes, Mr. President.”

Justin shook hands with pilots, enlisted ratings, and crew chiefs for the next half hour. He also signed a couple of flight suits at the wearer’s insistence and enjoyed the camaraderie of being among those who fought for freedom. It reminded him how much he had enjoyed being a part of something greater than him without the political backstabbing that seemed to rule Lawrence City. And most of all, he wished it wouldn’t end.

41

David felt happy to be in a conference room for the second time in a month. Wonders never cease in this universe. The reasoning was simple: they’d survived, and the nanites were defeated. And now I get to deal with the worst part of any combat… paperwork. He hadn’t missed the lack of CDF forms that needed to be completed in triplicate over the last few years. Reacclimating would take some time.

He found it challenging to focus, even as search operations continued, but had to trust the men and women performing their duties and concentrate on his. “Dr. Tural, casualty updates?

“Thank Allah that we lost fewer than a dozen souls on the Lion. Though nanite powder in the lungs is a condition suffered to some degree by half the crew. So far, no ill effects, and breathing treatments are all that’s required so far.”

“To that end,” Hayworth interjected, “my analysis suggests that the pulse we generated disrupted the subatomic bonds between the individual nanites and reduced their mass by ninety-nine percent or more.”

David found that interesting, though he wasn’t about to pull the string and listen to Hayworth and the scientists discuss it for an hour straight. “Thank you, Doctors.”

“We’ve got a lot of battle damage, though, sir,” Master Chief Tinetariro said. “I have every available hand working on repair details, coordinated with Major Hanson.”

He turned to Hanson. “Yard time, I take it?”

“Most definitely, sir.”

“Well, that was to be expected, and after three years, I’m sure the old girl needs a refit for whatever new and exciting technologies the Coalition has implemented.”

Hanson grinned. “I was hoping we would be chosen for testing Matrinid weapons.”

Aibek hissed loudly and shook his head. “Why would we want such things?”

“Because muonic energy is more potent than our existing tech.”

“I’m sure we’ll be somewhere in line for the SATO upgrades,” David replied. “Colonel, have you cataloged the fleet’s status?” Best to move away from the Saurian–Matrinid competition as fast as possible.

“Yes, sir. So far, one hundred twelve ships were destroyed or were total write-offs. More than two hundred more have enough damage to require a tow to drydock.”

The number was shockingly high, yet it seemed low compared to what David had thought it would be from the carnage on the battlefield. “Total casualties?” He girded himself for the answer.

“Above ten thousand. That is all I know now. It will be some time before S-and-R efforts can be completed, but so far, all deep-space rescue ships have reported finding more life pods and survivors inside disabled vessels than expected.”

David thanked God for the news. But still, there were many more lives on his conscience. Soldiers who won’t go home, families that will grieve. And here I sit, still alive and with my friends. My wife and child get to see me again. He blew out a breath. “What of our Zeivlot and Zavlot partners?”

“The highest kill and loss rates of any vessels engaged,” Ruth interjected. “They fought with honor and bravery.”

“I could not have said it better myself,” Aibek hissed. “They will make fine additions to your Coalition. The Admari and Jinvaas also acquitted themselves well.”

David pursed his lips. “They all did. We’ll let the politicians deal with what comes next. Major Hanson, when do you expect us to be underway?”

“Six hours, sir. Give me a day to get us good enough to fight if we had to.”

“Push it forward any way you can. Just in case.” David steepled his fingers and made eye contact with several of them. “I want everyone here to know how proud I am of how this crew and our fleet performed in this dire hour. The contributions of all led to this outcome, and without the incredible levels of work, sleepless nights, and tireless determination to get the job done, regardless of the cost, it wouldn’t have come together.”

“It was the only thing to do, sir,” Merriweather said.

Hayworth harrumphed. “Next time, I’m getting off the ship before nanites encase my body.”

A few snickers followed, but his joke mostly fell flat.

“I have an announcement that I want you all to hear from me.” David licked his lips. “Once we’re back in the Milky Way, I intend to take a planetside post to be close to my wife and child.”

Ruth’s eyes widened. “Salena’s pregnant?”

“Yes.” David grinned.

“Mazel Tov!” she exclaimed.

Congratulations poured in from the rest of them, but David held up a hand. “Thank you. There will be a time to celebrate later. I just… I wanted everyone to hear it from me.”

Aibek raised an eye scale. “Who will lead us?”

“I’ve already made my recommendation, Colonel. We’ll see if General MacIntosh and CDF Personnel follow through.”

David wasn’t sure why he’d blurted the news right then, but it felt good, as if an enormous weight had been lifted off his chest.

“It’s been an honor, sir,” Tinetariro said. For a moment, it looked like there might be a tear in her eye.

“The honor has been mine. This is the finest crew in the fleet. And I thank HaShem for the time I’ve had here. I know the Lion of Judah will continue her standard of excellence… as will all of you. Now, let’s get back out there and see this through.”

As everyone filed out, most shook David’s hand, including Hayworth. Once the hatch closed, he sat in his usual chair and stared at the deck-one conference room. It had been the site of so many discussions and pivotal moments in his career, not to mention the times in which what had happened there changed the course of the Terran Coalition. And now two galaxies as a whole. With a smile, he stood and walked out to head to his day cabin.

For twenty-four hours, Justin Spencer still had what felt like absurd levels of adrenaline coursing through his veins. And this is why I used to play cards after a sortie. He’d spent some time talking to other pilots and visiting the medical bay to personally thank the wounded for their sacrifice. After a meeting with the SATO Security Council and consultations with Vice President Fuentes, he’d arranged for one last conversation before heading to Coalition Force One.

The Lion of Judah’s observation deck had been cleared at Justin’s express order, except for one man: David Cohen. His back was turned as Justin crossed the last few steps to a massive bay window that looked into the void. “General Cohen?”

David turned and came to attention. “Major General David Cohen reports as ordered, sir.”

Justin shook his head. “None of that needed here. I… I wanted to talk to you man-to-man, as it were.”

“Well, before we start, sir, allow me to express my thanks for what you did here. And flying a combat mission… I know how hard that is. For what it’s worth, you have my respect for bravery in the face of extreme danger. Frankly, none of us should be alive. That so many are is a miracle from HaShem.”

“On that, we agree.” Justin stood next to him and gazed out to the surface of Zeivlot below. “Such a beautiful sight.”

“Like Canaan, in a way. Or New Israel… or any other of the myriad worlds in the Coalition. Life is an amazing thing. It should be cherished and treated with care because everyone is the product of God’s handiwork.”

“Something else we hold in common.”

“Sir, I must apologize for my words, tone, and actions after you gave the stand-down order. I forgot momentarily that my first duty is to the constitution of the Terran Coalition, and as our leader, you set policy, and I carry it out. It’s not lost on me that you and General MacIntosh have every right to strip me of command and force my retirement—or court-martial if you choose.”

“Perhaps by the letter of the law. But the truth is I was wrong.” Justin put a hand on David’s shoulder. “You took a stand for what was right. That’s never a bad thing.”

“Still.” David pursed his lips. “Sometimes, I’m overzealous. I look back on the last three years and wonder where I could’ve made better choices… ones that would’ve led to more of my soldiers and Marines making it home.”

Justin paused, searching for the right words. He’d always been impressed by David’s modesty, humility, and introspection. “In hindsight, there’s always a better choice or two. But we don’t usually have the luxury of three-hundred-sixty-degree information. That’s why others look to us for leadership.”

“I’ve always believed that a few good men and women doing what’s right, in spite of all odds, will make a difference.”

A new voice interrupted them. “I couldn’t agree more.”

Justin whirled around, knowing what he would see.

A young private wearing a CDF khaki duty uniform bearing the familiar patch of the logistical corps stood before them. His sandy-brown hair was perfectly kept to military standards. The name tag on his chest read Waters.

“Do you see him?” David asked in a high-pitched voice after a few seconds of silence.

Justin inhaled sharply. “Yes.”

Waters chuckled and took a few steps closer. “Gentlemen, we are alone. This conversation is private. And yes, you have met Me, and each knows Me as God.”

David gulped. “I…”

“When?” Justin asked.

“During the battle for Freedom Station and the Third Battle of Canaan,” David replied. “And when we fought the nanites yesterday. You?”

“Twice during my service on the Zvika Greengold and directly after I gave the stand-down order.”

Waters laughed again. “Both of you have often wondered if your interactions with Me resulted from madness or an overactive imagination. I decided you deserved certainty that you weren’t losing it. At least not today. You did well in My eyes.”

“Thank you, HaShem,” David replied.

“You intervened during the battle?” Justin asked.

“I did. There was no other way. Despite all its technology and allies, humanity was no match for the adversary. But you served My will by carrying out My plan and allowing me the opening needed to eradicate that particular evil from the universe.”

“Lord, why not destroy them in deep space?” Justin asked. He wasn’t sure where he got the courage to challenge God, but the words came out before he could stop them.

“Because that wasn’t My plan. Two peoples who murdered each other with reckless abandon no longer do so. Different species have woken up to the possibility that there are better ways than what they were locked into. And most of all, everyone involved will grow yet again. There is always more going on than any of My creations can see. That is the natural order of things.”

Justin pursed his lips. “It’s difficult to accept.”

Water stepped between them and put his hands on their shoulders. “I know. Faith is the hardest thing in the universe, especially when you have so much knowledge at your fingertips.”

“There is something I don’t understand,” David said.

“Just one?”

David smiled. “The nanites. Why destroy as they did? They were clearly sentient. It makes no sense to do what they did, even discounting morality.”

“The answer is simple. I derive joy from creation.” Waters gestured at a nearby nebula. “The act of making something where there was nothing, imbuing it with beauty, life, and everything I hold dear… that drives Me. The adversary instead takes pleasure in destruction. Servants of his do the same. That is why the swarm sought to eradicate all other forms of life.”

Justin shivered. “You’re saying we came within a centimeter of those things wiping out everything?”

“Yes.”

“Then… what do we do now?” David asked.

“Finish what you all started here. Continue to stand for what’s right.” Waters squeezed their shoulders. “And remember that to whom I give much, I expect much from. Your service is not yet finished.”

“I’m due to be done with politics in a few weeks,” Justin replied. How can I possibly do more?

Water tilted his head to one side. “You’ll see shortly. Now, I must be going, as there are many other situations to attend to. Walk in my path.”

One moment, Waters was there. The next, he was gone.

David and Justin recoiled in shock. They stared at each other.

“We can never—”

“Mention this to anyone,” Justin finished. “I’m aware. I would almost say I’d gone insane if you weren’t here.”

David bit his lip. “What now, sir?”

“I have an appointment with Zupan Vog’t and Chairman Olgsian. Once that’s concluded, I’m heading back to Canaan, where you will be ordered as well. We’ll leave a battlegroup here to protect both worlds until something more permanent can be constructed.” Justin put a hand on the window to steady himself as he realized his entire body was shaking.

“So, business as usual?”

“Do you have a better idea?” Justin whispered.

“No, Mr. President. I just… ah. There’s no way to express how insane this is.”

Justin gestured to the spinning ball of Zeivlot in front of them. “Getting tossed to a different galaxy, stopping two species from destroying each other, and finding a way home, all while getting yourself in trouble with other races isn’t insane, then? Just part of the job?”

“Maybe for the Far Survey Corps,” David replied darkly. “The CDF is supposed to defend the Coalition, not explore. Or as Colonel Demood puts it, kill people and break things.”

Justin laughed. “Ah, leave it to a Marine to put things in perspective. Well, we’ll get you back to doing what you do best soon enough. The League’s been acting up but nothing too serious. Still, having the Lion of Judah on patrol will make them think twice.”

“I was going to talk to General MacIntosh, sir, but since you bring it up… I’d like a planetary posting for my next duty station.”

Justin turned and stared at David like he’d grown a second head. “Did I hear that right? You want off the Lion? I figured we’d have to pry this ship from your cold, dead hands.”

David took a step back. “Salena is pregnant. We will have our first child in six months if all goes well. I promised myself I wouldn’t make my family wonder daily if they’d see me again. And… it’s been a long time since I accepted a planetary position. I’m well overdue.”

“You can have anything you want after all this, David,” Justin replied. “I’ll see to it personally.”

“Wherever I can do the most good.”

“I didn’t see any mention of this pregnancy in your reports.”

“Because I knew that some would use it against the request to help the Zeivlots and Zavlots.”

“You sure you’re not a politician?”

David grimaced. “Perish the thought.”

Justin extended his hand. “I’d better be going. Godspeed, General.”

David shook it firmly. “Godspeed, sir.”

As Justin strode through the passageways of the Lion toward his awaiting shuttle, he knew a part of him would always be on the ship. He felt alive in ways he hadn’t in decades. In this moment, I wish my path had been to continue my service in the CDF. But it hadn’t. He wondered what lay beyond. The Lord promised me more is still required. I will give until I can give no more. However, one thing had solidified even more: his respect for David Cohen. Many talked the talk, but few walked the walk, and even fewer did so when doing so would cost them everything. As long as our republic remains defended by men and women like him, we will prevail.

42

Before heading back to the Milky Way, Justin had determined it was only prudent to meet with Zeivlot’s and Zavlot’s leaders. Because of the logistical and security concerns, his protective service detail insisted it happen aboard the Lion of Judah. While Justin preferred to travel to each world, he realized that meeting on the flagship made sense for time and security reasons.

After much consideration, Justin decided to meet with both leaders simultaneously because he didn’t want either side to feel the other had gotten favorable treatment, especially after their history. The Lion’s VIP conference room was just the place, and as an added bonus, it was somewhere they’d all been before.

Vog’t and Olgsian arrived together and took seats on either side of Justin after all had shaken hands.

“Thank you for coming. I would’ve preferred to meet on solid ground, but the Lion of Judah will have to do.”

“It is fitting, as this ship and her crew were the ones who delivered the final blow,” Vog’t said.

The half-second delay coupled with the unique Zeivlot language forced Justin to listen carefully to avoid missing anything. “Too kind, Zupan. And, Chairman Olgsian, thank you for joining me as well.”

“It was no bother. I rather enjoy seeing the stars.”

Justin nodded. “We find ourselves in uncharted territory here. It’s not every day we get a stable wormhole into a different galaxy, nor that we send a thousand warships to defend it from a civilization-ending event.”

Olgsian chuckled. “If you had told me what would happen three years ago, I would’ve suggested you needed to visit a mental institution, perhaps permanently.”

“As would I,” Vog’t added. “These events are the very definition of unexpected and nearly impossible to believe.”

Justin spread out his hands on the table. “The Terran Coalition doesn’t legally recognize General Cohen’s actions in admitting you. I get why he did it, and I would’ve supported the action had I been here. But we are a nation of laws, and our constitution clearly defines how a new planet is admitted. Before I get further on that, though, both worlds must understand that whatever Zeivlot does, Zavlot must as well. And vice versa. If there is disagreement, the default position is we cannot admit either.”

“I can see the logic, President Spencer,” Vog’t said somberly. Her eyes had deep bags under them. “You would not want to try to deal with the security concerns of splitting a solar system, not to mention the logistics.”

“Trade, immigration, movement of citizens, military actions.” Justin shook his head. “It’d be a nightmare, and deep resentment would build up over time. If consensus cannot be reached, I propose granting Zeivlot and Zavlot most-favored-nation trading status and an agreement allowing the CDF to provide mutual defense. Allow me to stress that I am not interested in expanding the Terran Coalition to create an empire.”

Olgsian and Vog’t exchanged glances before she spoke. “We do not question your motives, because they have been proven to be pure time and again.”

“Not all humans are the same, Zupan. Be careful in your dealings, especially with megacorps,” Justin replied.

“Nor are all Zeivlots or Zavlots good people. This is true of any species, I suspect. But we are confident in our belief that joining the Terran Coalition is the best path for our people.”

“As are we,” Olgsian said. “We discussed this on the way, Mr. President. There is no better option.”

Justin pursed his lips. “I’d hoped you say that. It’s going to take some time to get the wheels of our government moving, and you’ll have to hold planetary referendums before anything is finalized. Our constitution says a two-thirds majority is required of the world in question.”

“There are many details to work out, I’m sure,” Vog’t said. “I assume a negotiating team from the Coalition will handle those.”

“More than one.” Justin flashed a grin. “It’ll be a long process. Make no mistake… items from how your worlds’ legal systems will fit in to political structure to the red tape we bring with us.”

“Red tape?” Olgsian asked.

“It’s a human idiom for bureaucracy, and most of us hate it.”

Vog’t tilted her head. “We dislike too much ‘red tape,’ too, but it seems endemic with any government.”

“Agreed, Madame Zupan.” While the conversation was going more easily than he’d expected, what came next might not. “One other issue to discuss. All those Ajax-class destroyers your shipyards built.”

“Is this where you tell us you want them back?” Vog’t asked with a piercing gaze.

“Not exactly. Some will stay on station along with a significant battlegroup to protect this system because of its distance from Canaan and our fleet. But crew rosters will change, and the Zeivlots and Zavlots who’ve made it into the CDF so far will be assigned to vessels throughout the fleet. Your people must be integrated just as we are throughout all operations.”

Justin wasn’t a fool. While cooperation was preferred, he had to protect the Coalition’s core interests. Handing two alien races a major fleet wasn’t happening.

“We don’t plan to start taking over our neighbors, President Spencer,” Olgsian said. “But as a head of state, I understand your concerns. As part of a larger package, I find your terms agreeable, even if they aggravate me to an extent.”

Justin turned to Vog’t. “Madame Zupan?”

“I concur as well. With the stipulation that the destroyers stay until we’re formally admitted into the Coalition.”

Justin winced involuntarily. It’s not unreasonable from their perspective, but this will already be one heck of a sell in the Senate. What was it my mother used to say? In for a penny, in for a pound. “Agreed.”

“Then I believe Zeivlot can move forward under these terms.”

“As can Zavlot.”

Justin inclined his head. “I’m glad we have consensus. Now… there are some other matters to discuss that I wanted to get started on while we’re here.”

For the next few hours, they made sausage on a wide variety of mundane topics, and throughout the process, Justin was impressed by both leaders. He had every belief that they would make excellent additions to the Terran Coalition. But more than that, he felt the sequence of events was supposed to occur, all part of a larger plan defined by God. To what end, Justin didn’t know. But he would press on as best he could.

In the Milky Way, Salena Bo’hai found things she’d never imagined existing. The journey was long, but once they arrived at Canaan, the planet was amazing. It was roughly the same size as Zeivlot, with a similar population, and the high-tech feel to everything was incredible. Flying cars roamed the skies in neatly formed lanes, and buildings reached into the heavens. Yet every person she’d met somehow remained grounded. During one tour, she’d observed people walking to and from destinations in Lawrence City. They haven’t let the technology go to their heads.

As a linguist, she was fascinated by the different languages she’d heard. Bo’hai had assumed that most humans used the same one, given that English was virtually all that was spoken in the CDF, outside of religious services. She’d identified more than twenty different tongues so far and, in conversations, elicited that there were hundreds between them and the other species in the galaxy.

While that discovery excited her, leaving David and trying to acclimate to a new environment was daunting. Even though she knew the Lion of Judah had survived and her people were saved, every moment she spent thinking about him seemed like a waking nightmare.

Bo’hai busied herself by helping other refugees navigate the Coalition with her basic understanding of how its bureaucracy worked. If nothing else, that kept her mind off David and what he and the Lion had been through. News reports were surprisingly open, sharing that dozens of ships had been lost and many more damaged severely.

The tablet assigned to her in the VIP quarters she’d been given at Joint Base Sir James Lawrence came alive, vibrating and beeping simultaneously. Bo’hai grabbed it and nearly jumped for joy when she realized a vidlink from David was coming in.

His face came into focus a few seconds after she pressed the link accept button. “Can you hear me?”

“Yes! Are you okay? Are the ship and crew safe? How is… I’m sorry. I’ve been worried.” Bo’hai took a deep breath.

“I’m fine. The Lion came through intact.” David touched the screen on his device. “I’ve been worried sick too. How are you doing? The baby?”

“We’re… fine.” Bo’hai smiled, and tears came. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” A tear rolled down his cheek. “Let’s not do this again, eh?”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” David wiped his eyes. “I don’t have much time, as the comm relays are still jammed. But I wanted to tell you something.”

“What, love?”

“I’ll be on Canaan in a few days. After that… I’m taking a planetary posting. We’ll raise our child on a world with gravity, fresh air, and plenty of trees.”

Bo’hai closed her eyes and determined she wouldn’t cry. Instead, she smiled. “I… I can’t wait to see you.”

“Soon. Be safe.”

“Goodbye, my love.”

The screen faded, and Bo’hai clutched the slate to her chest. The tears came again, but they were ones of joy. Everything she could possibly have wanted in life had come to fruition. And for this, I must thank the Maker.

43

David did not have fond memories of the last time he was aboard a shuttle headed for Canaan’s main spaceport in Lawrence City. But today, the circumstances are different.

Surprisingly to him, all across the Terran Coalition, opinion polling showed massive support for the Sextans B intervention, as the news channels had taken to calling it. By a nine-to-one margin, citizens approved of SATO’s military action, even with the extreme losses of life. David was buoyed by the reports, as he felt it underlined the defining characteristic of the Coalition not to turn aside from genocide and other crimes against sentient life. If we couldn’t step up to defend fourteen billion people, I wouldn’t recognize my own country anymore.

He felt thankful it hadn’t come to that, even though for a little while, it had been going in that direction.

Calvin sat beside him, and other senior officers filled the shuttle’s passenger compartment. The flight down was oddly quiet, though David assumed that was because everyone was lost in thought like he was. It had been almost three weeks since he’d seen his wife and more than three years since the last time he’d visited his mother, Sarah. I know she’s spent most of that time in agony. She worried nonstop that my number would come up during the war with the League. He hoped the joy of reuniting and learning she was to be a grandmother would erase the pain as much as possible.

The shuttle came in for a landing and smoothly set down on the tarmac outside the terminal. “Thank you for flying CDF, ladies and gentlemen. Please, don’t forget to put your barf bags in the receptacle on the way out, and enjoy those retirement packages,” the warrant officer who piloted the craft announced over the intercom.

Everyone snickered.

“So many smartasses on this ship,” Calvin said in a faux annoyed tone. “I think I might even miss it.”

“We all will,” David replied as he pushed the harness upward and stood.

Calvin nodded. “Yeah, just don’t tell our families too loudly, eh?”

“No one understands unless they’ve stood the watch… then it all makes sense. Now, let’s get out there.”

David keyed in the command to open the cargo door, which dropped open with a thud. He led the way out, followed by Calvin, Aibek, Amir, Ruth, Taylor, Hanson, Dr. Tural, Hammond, and Merriweather. The sight was simple yet powerful. Coalition flags flew proudly in the wind, and a throng of thousands stood before them.

Notably, unlike the previous time, there didn’t seem to be a single reporter or holocamera in sight.

Bo’hai was at the front of the crowd, and the moment David spotted her, he threw decorum and everything else to the wind by sprinting toward her as fast as his legs would carry him. When he reached her, he grabbed her around the waist and lifted her into his arms.

She squealed and giggled in delight as she held on to him, and they locked lips.

Everything going on around David ceased to exist. A fifty-meter-tall alien dinosaur could’ve appeared ten meters away, and it wouldn’t have penetrated his concentration on Bo’hai.

Similar scenes played out around them as families who hadn’t been together in years reunited with their loved ones.

“I missed you so much,” Bo’hai whispered into his ear. She smiled through her tears.

David tightened his grip on her. “I missed you too. Every day. But we’re together, and that’s what counts.”

“Well, look at this,” Calvin shouted as he approached them. “The stoic General Cohen has a romantic side.”

Bo’hai wiggled out of David’s embrace, and he gently set her down.

A woman David hadn’t met before approached with Calvin, while the tough Marine held a child in his arms.

“Look at this!” Calvin exclaimed. “I’m a dad! I’ve got a son!”

Emotions manifested with different expressions on every human, but there was no mistaking the pure, unadulterated joy on Calvin’s face. David was so happy for his friend after so many years of fighting the good fight, first for the Terran Coalition then for the peoples of Sextans B. He deserves this.

“I’m Jessica,” the brown-haired woman said.

“Best thing that ever happened to me,” Calvin interjected.

David extended his hand. “Glad to meet you. I’m sorry it wasn’t sooner, but we never had proper family cruises or port calls with the war at such full intensity.”

“Oh, this old Marine wife is used to it, General.” Jessica smiled. “I’m just glad to have my husband home in one piece. I’m sure you had something to do with that.”

Though her words were meant in genuine thanks, it didn’t stop him from immediately thinking of the more than one hundred soldiers, pilots, and Marines from the Lion of Judah who hadn’t made it home, not to mention the more than ten thousand lost from the fleet during the battle with the nanites. Every time he looked at the casualty list, it grew longer.

“How about this? She named him Calvin Junior!”

David forced himself back into the moment. “Oh, you sure about that, Jessica? The universe can barely tolerate one Calvin Demood.”

Jessica burst out laughing. “I see your friends know you as well as I do, Cal.”

“Allow me to introduce my wife, Salena,” David gestured to Bo’hai.

“I believe the proper response is ‘It is a pleasure,’” she said and extended her hand. “I’m still getting used to how humans interact with one another.”

“Oh, trust me. That’s a lifelong process, especially around Marines and soldiers,” Jessica replied and instead hugged her. “Glad to meet you too.”

Out of the corner of David’s eye, he saw Dr. Tural being mobbed by his wife and children. The joy on his face was unmistakable, and it was all around them. The atmosphere in the terminal was almost imbued with happiness. David couldn’t recall the last time he’d felt that way, with the responsibility of getting his crew home lifted from his shoulders. There was guilt and always would be for those he’d lost. But he was determined to focus on the positive because that was what the soldiers, pilots, and Marines would’ve wanted. Protecting the innocent was why they put the uniform on every morning. There were worse ways to die than giving one’s life for a worthy cause. That’s something I must remember.

The political day of reckoning had come. Justin Spencer adjusted his tie and ensured his suit was perfect as the leaders of both congressional chambers waited for him in the Cabinet Room, which was only a few meters away from the Oval Office. The minority leaders from the major center-left opposition parties along with the senior cabinet officials and Vice President Edwardo Fuentes were there too. In short, enough of the Coalition’s government was gathered in one place that designated-survivor protocols went into effect.

Justin stepped out of the Oval to find his chief of staff, Richard Rollins, waiting.

“Sure you’re ready for this?”

“How bad is it?” Justin grimaced but forced his lips to curl upward.

Rollins shook his head. “Kaufman has gotten even more shrill since last night’s prebrief. He told Canaan News this morning that any chief executive who doesn’t put the Terran Coalition first should be subject to impeachment.”

Justin’s eyes widened. That was quite the escalation. “On the record?”

“Live and in front of twenty billion viewers.”

“Saints, protectors of grace, help us.” Justin pursed his lips. After the divine intervention he could never tell a soul of, beyond David Cohen, a switch had been thrown. He only had a few months left in his political career, and he’d had it with self-serving hypocrites, no matter the party label. “Let’s go. No sense keeping our honored guests waiting.”

Rollins nodded and fell in behind him.

Justin pushed open the wooden doors to the Cabinet Room, so named for its numerous holovids over the centuries of Coalition leaders meeting in it.

Everyone, including Kaufman, came to their feet respectfully.

“Please, be seated,” Justin said as he took his position at the head of the table. “Thank you all for joining me today.”

“We appreciate having a seat at the table, Mr. President,” Gale Hopkins, the minority leader in the Senate, replied. She had a reputation of being a tough negotiator and was a member of the Peace Union, who’d been at odds with Justin for more than a decade.

Justin nodded respectfully before scanning the room. “I’ve asked you here today without holocameras or the press because we have a matter of grave importance to discuss. Both the Zeivlot and Zavlot governments have voted to pursue membership in the Terran Coalition. You know my position. They should be admitted as soon as is practically possible.”

“Yes, let’s welcome fourteen billion backwater, technologically inferior aliens into the Terran Coalition when our border planets deal with starvation.” Kaufman crossed his arms.

Justin bit off the urge to verbally rip the majority leader apart. While satisfying, it would get me nowhere. Better to fight with carefully chosen words. “I think what you meant to say, Harold, is why wouldn’t we admit two high ly industrialized planets with infrastructure akin to our most developed core worlds?”

“The president is right for a multitude of reasons. The solar system Zeivlot and Zavlot occupy is our gateway to an entirely new galaxy. One that doesn’t seem to have any major players in it,” Elizabeth Balodis, the Coalition Intelligence Service director, interjected. “Though the reports I’ve read suggest it’s not as mineral rich as ours. Still, that kind of opportunity can’t be turned away.”

“Now you want to colonize them? Oh, that’s grand,” Hopkins’s eyes blazed. “Just like the Tories to exploit the less advanced and downtrodden.”

Her remark made Justin see red. He blew out a breath and counted to three. “Yes, because spilling the blood of ten thousand of our soldiers—and climbing—is how the Terran Coalition exploits others. Save the political grandstanding for somewhere besides this room.”

Speaker Vasquez gave Hopkins a withering death glare. “The Assembly has more than enough votes to ratify Zeivlot and Zavlot joining the Coalition, and many of them come from your side of the aisle.”

“The Senate doesn’t and never will,” Kaufman shot back. “Take care of our people first, and in a decade or two, we can consider these people once they’ve reached our level of technological ability.”

“You want us to turn our backs on them,” Justin replied. “How’s that going to play here, Harold? Talk about bad optics. Don’t ally with the Terran Coalition. They’ll pack and go home when the going gets rough. We’ve already got a few dozen human governments in the Independent Systems Federation that think that and for good reason.”

Kaufman stared at Justin. “Where’s the President Spencer who imposed immigration limits on League refugees and clamped down on illegal migrant smuggling? Could someone go get him, please? I’d like to have a word.”

“Stow the histrionics,” Justin replied.

Everyone else in the room held their silence. He had the distinct feeling that the left-of-center representatives were enjoying the circular firing squad.

“There’s a big difference between allowing unlimited numbers of refugees into the Coalition, especially when the League cleared out its prisons and sent them to us… and accepting a new world. They’re not comparable. We both know that, but you want a political win over your opponents.”

Kaufman’s face twisted with rage. “How dare you—”

“Save it for the holocameras, Harold. I’m sick of your making everything about beating down the other side. It’s bad for the Coalition and our citizens.”

“Well, I’m glad to see you coming to your senses as a humanitarian, Mr. President,” Hopkins interjected. “It’s nice to see us getting back to our charter.”

Justin shifted his gaze to her. “Don’t even start. Your party has made a point of welcoming refugees not because you care about them but because you think they’ll vote for you. And the side effects would cause unchecked economic pain for the very people you claim to stand for, in the form of depressed wages. Don’t think you get to sit back and bask here. Hypocrisy rules in this room, and I’m sick of it.”

Hopkins’s face turned bloodred. “This is a funny way of getting our votes, Mr. President.”

“Your rank and file will vote for it because it’s the right thing to do. So will mine. Maybe we should try getting back to that… voting our conscience. Do things because they’re right, not because we want to score points or raise money off outrageous holoads.”

“Good luck getting to a vote in the Senate,” Kaufman interjected as he stood. “I’ll personally see to it that you never get a motion to the floor.”

Justin chuckled. “I’ve got three months left in office, as you love to remind me, and I’m still the leader of the combined center-right parties, Harold. Whatever the cost in political capital… I’ll pay it. There will be a vote, and if I have anything to say, Zeivlot and Zavlot will be approved for conditional membership in the Terran Coalition.”

“The Assembly will schedule a vote, Mr. President,” Vasquez said. She wore a small smile.

Dinorah thinks I’ve gone insane, calling them all out like this. But my God, it needs to be done. Justin glanced around the room. “Anyone care to add anything?”

Stunned silence was the only reply.

“Good.” Justin stood. “Have a pleasant day.”

As he walked out, Rollins appeared at his side. “What the hell was that?”

“Language, Richard.”

“You realize you just declared war on Kaufman, right?”

Justin tilted his head as they approached the door to the Oval Office. “Not quite. I declared war on political hypocrisy.”

“You really have gone nuts,” Rollins replied. “That’s… It’s how things work.”

“We can do better.” Justin crossed his arms. “You know it. So do I.”

“But—”

“Be better.” Justin inhaled deeply. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have twenty minutes before the next meeting, and I want to see my family for a bit.”

“Of course, Mr. President.”

Justin turned on his heel. It felt good to call things like they were. Maybe there’s still something for me to do out there. I suppose we’ll see.

44

Change was the only constant in the universe, or so Dr. Hayworth had continually told Arthur Hanson over the course of the six years they’d known each other. At the moment, there was far too much of it. Word had spread about General Cohen taking planetary duty, and it seemed as if eighty percent of the crew was transferring off.

I guess that makes sense. Six years is a long time to be on any ship in the CDF. With their time on the CSV Yitzhak Rabin added, Hanson had served under David for almost seven years.

He wasn’t sure what he would do next. Staying on the Lion as the chief engineer for much longer was out of the question. Hanson had also missed the last two promotion boards. Not that he was afraid he couldn’t pin on lieutenant colonel. But it would take that much longer.

That left Hanson sitting in his quarters on a Friday night, thumbing through postings his newly assigned detailer had sent him. Most were groundside, a few were chief engineer slots on antimatter-capable warships, and one was back at CDF Special Projects. None sparked much interest. Maybe I should see where Merriweather’s going to end up. Might be nice to get transferred to a place where I know at least one other person.

His quiet scrolling was interrupted by the buzz of an incoming vidlink.

I wonder who that is. Hanson tapped the overlay, surprised to see it was from Colonel Savchenko. He accepted the call and waited for the screen to populate.

It took a few moments for the blackness to fade and be replaced by the unsmiling face of the Thatcher’s CO. “Ah, Major. Glad to see you hadn’t gone to bed yet.”

Hanson snickered. “I’m not quite that old and fugly, sir.”

“The operative word is ‘yet,’ Major. Picked out your next duty station?”

“You got a spy cam in here, sir? As a matter of fact, I was just reviewing some options.”

“Here’s one that’s not on your detailer’s list: XO of the Margaret Thatcher.”

Hanson gulped. “I wasn’t aware I qualified, sir.”

“I spoke with General Cohen. He agreed to push through your qualification as a space-warfare officer, based on your service history in Sextans B.” Savchenko grinned. “Sometimes, having friends in high places is a positive thing, Major.”

Silence descended over the vidlink as Hanson blinked a few times.

“What’s the matter over there? Cat got your tongue, or did this crap tablet die on me again?”

“I’m sorry, sir. Not sure what to say.”

“‘Yes, thank you, Colonel,’ would be a good start,” Savchenko replied with a smirk. “That’s typically how promotions go.”

“We talked about my learning from you, sir, but I’m not sure about showing up cold as the XO.”

“Who said anything about your not gaining the benefit of my wisdom, Hanson? I used the same trick Cohen did. I’ve been given command of a destroyer division—DEVRON 37. We’ll be patrolling the frontier between the League and the Coalition, all the way over in the Orion Spur. Since I’m technically commanding six ships, I’ll be dual-hatted in the role for a bit. Oh, and getting my full bird too.”

Hanson tilted his head. Yeah, Savchenko is slick. I’ve got to give him that. The question remained, however. What exactly do I want to do? The path back to R&D was open, or he could stick to engineering. And now, command is an option. I’ve only got five more years till my twenty. Then I could retire and go work for a contractor. Maybe settle down.

One didn’t answer that sort of question on a whim and certainly not at twenty-hundred hours CMT on a Friday night, a week after returning to one’s home galaxy after three years stuck in proverbial hell.

Or is it?

Hanson had mostly gone through life taking the safer course. Sure, there’d been times when he stepped out, and serving on any combat vessel meant putting your life on the line. But this is different. I could make the decisions someday and find out how good I really am.

“Hey, I don’t have all night. If you’re getting cold feet, I have other candidates.”

“I’d be honored, sir,” Hanson blurted out.

Savchenko nodded. “Had me worried there for a second.”

“Call it a leap of faith, sir.”

“You won’t be saying that after I’ve ridden your ass for six months and pushed you to be more than you are. In fact, you’ll probably end up hating me. That’ll mean I did my job right.”

“When do I start, sir?”

“Oh, it’ll take a week for all the paperwork to run its way through CDFPER. Until then, sit tight, and do your job. Savchenko out.”

The screen faded back to black, and Hanson set the tablet down. What have I gotten myself into now? Wait until my parents hear this. They’ll think I’ve gone totally insane. He grinned. Whatever came next and however it went would justify the journey.

Change of command as the outgoing CO was always bittersweet. David knew that firsthand from his friends and watching it happen over the years. It was especially true when, thanks to circumstances beyond their control, the officers and crew of the Lion of Judah had been together for six years. That time allowed relationships that might not have blossomed on a shorter, standard tour of duty ranging from two to three years.

Things had moved quickly once he’d requested a planetary assignment, and the new CO had primarily been selected based on David’s input to General MacIntosh and President Spencer.

David stood before a mirror in his stateroom belowdecks and stared at himself in dress whites. After all that time, he still hated the tedium of ensuring every insignia, medal, and ribbon was perfect. If I listen hard enough, I can almost hear Sheila telling me to suck it up.

Once he returned to Canaan, he meant to visit her grave outside of Lawrence City and spend some time telling her what had happened. The ritual probably seemed strange or silly to most, but it allowed him some closure. Six years since she died, and I discovered that she harbored feelings for me for a decade while I was too stupid to notice. Deep within his heart, though, he knew she was in the afterlife and happy for him. Okay, General. Get your rear end in gear. One more walk through the ship before going home.

Even though David knew being with his wife and soon-to-be-born child was the right thing to do, that he had done his duty and then some—emotion still welled up. Going into space, defending the ideals of the Coalition against all enemies, was all he knew. Spending most of my time with dirt under my feet will be an adjustment.

He pushed the hatch out and found the passageway lined with enlisted ratings and junior officers. The scene reminded David of when General Barton had unceremoniously sacked him after Fuentes won the presidential election. That day was one of the bitterest memories he had during his time in uniform because it represented someone he loathed, snatching defeat from the jaws of victory.

David shook hands with each man and woman who’d come to see him off. Many, he knew after so many years on the ship, even though it had ten thousand souls aboard. As a result, he was almost an hour late to the ceremony and had to send word ahead.

He stood in front of the double hatch to the Lion’s massive hangar and realized it had never seen more people in it. Every square meter was occupied by either soldiers or Marines.

“CSV Lion of Judah arriving,” a rating announced over the PA system.

David pulled his cover on as he walked over the threshold and exchanged salutes with Master Chief Tinetariro. He strode down the carpet that had been installed between two large columns of personnel and stepped onto a portable stage where General MacIntosh and Aibek stood.

MacIntosh approached the lectern. “Please rise for the colors.”

An honor guard of Marines trooped in, carrying the Terran Coalition and CDF flags, while the anthem of the Coalition played. Everyone came to attention and raised their hands to their brows.

Once the music had ended, MacIntosh continued, “Ladies and gentlemen, remain standing for the invocation.”

Rabbi Kravitz stood and approached. CDF tradition was for the chaplain of the outgoing COs religion to deliver the prayer. After a nod to the three men on the stage, he turned to the microphone. “Eternal Father, strong to save, we come before You today with deep gratitude for the gifts You give us each day and for watching over us in the blackness of the void. Bless this crew and this vessel, and help us to walk in Your path. Guide us to serve in Your name. Amen.”

David blew out a breath as the rabbi returned to his seat.

MacIntosh spoke once more. “All hands, attention to orders.” The general paused and waited for them to assume a ramrod-straight posture. “Colonel Talgat Aibek, you are instructed and required to proceed to the starport in which the CSV Lion of Judah may be and, upon arrival, report to your immediate superior in command if present or otherwise by message for duty as commanding officer of CSV Lion of Judah.”

David and Aibek faced each other.

MacIntosh cleared his throat. “General Cohen, are you ready to be relieved?”

“I am ready to be relieved, sir,” David replied.

Aibek’s scales flushed. “I relieve you, sir.”

Overwhelming emotion welled up within David, but he forced it down. “I stand relieved.”

The rest of the ceremony was a blur. David shook a ton of hands, made much small talk, and shared a few moments with Aibek on his way to the shuttle that would take him back to Canaan. Not until he was in the cargo area, strapped into a seat and alone, did everything catch up to him.

One tear fell out of David’s eye then another. Before long, it was a river. No longer serving alongside the men and women he’d grown so close to over the last six years left a hole in his heart. Yet he also knew that stepping back from the sharp tip of the spear was the right thing to do. The Coalition is at peace, and I will still contribute daily. But my child deserves to have me home, as does my wife. It would be different if we were at war, but I’ve earned a shore duty after twenty-three years. What comes after that is for HaShem to decide.

As the shuttle headed for the surface, David knew that no matter what, he would treasure his time in command of the Lion. A unique ship and a special crew. It was the honor of my life to command her.

45

Dr. Hayworth picked up a stack of data storage units and slid them into chambers on a specially designed transport container made from high-density polymer. Each one made a click as it locked in. Though he wasn’t one for sentimentality, a certain sadness accompanied packing up. A chapter in his life was closing, and for once, he wasn’t happy about moving on.

“Doctor, did you see this?” Merriweather held up another box. “More research files.”

“I’ll put it in with this set.” He shuffled over and took it from her.

She smiled at him. “You’re awfully quiet today.”

“I had gotten used to how things were here.”

Merriweather raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying you like the military now?”

“Well. Some of you.” He grinned. “But the question now is… ‘What next?’”

“Special Projects would love to continue to avail itself of your services.”

Hayworth harrumphed as he seated more drives in the container. “Would it now.”

“Seeing as my promotion to lieutenant colonel came in this morning, and I will be running a portfolio that includes antimatter research, yes, I can say that with certainty.”

He stopped and turned around before taking her hand. “I am so proud of you, Eliza. Truly, you deserve it and much more.” Ever since they’d met, once he’d gotten over the general distaste of having a military “minder,” they’d shared a mutual respect. Hayworth considered her the daughter he’d never had, though those words would never leave his lips.

“Thank you.” A sheen came to Merriweather’s eyes. “What about you? Where will you go now?”

“I was thinking about joining the Far Survey Corps. With this new galaxy to explore, they’ll likely be expanding.”

Merriweather blinked. “You’ve got to be pulling my leg.”

“Oh, I’m far too old, I’m afraid. But I might’ve given it a whirl if I were a younger man.” He made a sweeping gesture. “It’s been nice, this exploring. Made me feel alive, like I was living out a dream. But no, I’ll probably keep working on antimatter reactors. The grant money is too good to pass up.”

“Are you sure? I know designing weapons and weapon-adjacent systems isn’t what you want.”

Hayworth stroked his chin. “Between us, I’d like to try my hand at an antimatter reactor suitable for planetary deployment.”

“Lots of safety protocols to overcome there, Doctor.”

“I like a challenge.”

She chuckled. “Yes, you do. What about Markul? I haven’t seen him underfoot in a few days.”

“He’s not quite sure where he wants to end up. I understand the Zeivlot government has offered him employment, as did a financial firm from Galt.”

“Galt?”

Hayworth smirked. “Banks like to hire the best hackers to keep out other hackers. Or so he said. I hope we see him again.”

“Me too. Well, I’d better be getting to my shuttle. Don’t be a stranger?”

“Never.”

Hayworth stared at the hatch as she walked out of his lab. My lab. It was, for six years, anyway. While he never ascribed much to a place or things, something about the ship made it home. Why couldn’t I join the Far Survey Corps anyway? I might be thirty years over the maximum enlistment age, but I know more than an entire ship of those young whippersnappers put together.

The thought made him smile, and he realized that perhaps it wasn’t so far-fetched after all. Who’s to say what the future will bring? I’ve still got half my life in front of me.

Hayworth went back to packing, but that time, he moved with purpose.

It had been far too long since Calvin Demood saw his home. He hadn’t expected Jessica to still be there, as she’d never particularly liked the house or living on Canaan, for that matter. Her family was native to New Virginia, and he was surprised she hadn’t ended up there.

But he understood why as the helicar came to a stop in the driveway. It was exactly as he remembered leaving it the last time, right down to the Coalition flag flying on a pole by the garage.

Calvin turned to his wife, who was holding their son in her arms. “So, you never gave up hope?”

“How could you tell?”

“No other reason you’d stay here and keep the house like this.”

Jessica bit her lip. “No, baby, I never gave up. I knew you were out there somewhere and that, somehow, you’d find your way back to us because you had a lot to fight for.”

After turning the power off with his thumbprint, he turned toward her. “Thank you. That means more than anything to me because I never gave up, either.”

She brushed a stray hair out of her face. “What’s my Marine hero planning now? They going to put a star on your shoulder?”

Calvin threw his head back and started to belly laugh before remembering Cal Jr. was sleeping and quieted himself. “No. I put in my retirement papers.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to.” He put an arm around her shoulders. “It’s already approved, and I’ve got a month of terminal leave, but from here on out, I’m done kicking down doors and shooting Leaguers or whatever else gets in the Coalition’s way. Also, my pension’s really nice now with the six extra years.”

Jessica pursed her lips. “You’ll go stir-crazy in a week.”

Calvin snickered. “You’re not wrong there, baby. But I know a guy.”

“A guy?”

“One of those slimy defense contractors.”

Jessica did a double take. “Wait. Hold the commlink. My husband, the great Marine wonder who has told me a thousand times, if he’s said it once, how much he hates civilian contractors… is going over to the dark side?”

“Lowe’s not a bad guy. I could do a lot worse. He offered me a management position on a Marine contract. Thinks I’ll relate to the customer and the workforce. And he’s probably right.”

“You’re sure?”

“Totally. I promised you three years ago we’d have time for us. Marines keep their word.”

Calvin leaned over and kissed her. “Now, let’s get Cal Jr. into the house without waking him, because I need to show my wife just how much I’ve missed her.”

When she rolled her eyes and giggled at him, Calvin knew everything would be okay. As long as I can avoid yelling at my boss and getting fired. Oh well. Lowe’s a good sport anyway. He can take a ribbing.

46

Politics was a fickle business. In the days after the battle over Zeivlot, Justin had realized that some things were so much simpler in the cockpit of a space-superiority fighter. There were friendlies and hostiles, which were put down with extreme prejudice. If only Kaufman was as easy to defeat as a nanite swarmer. Since his meeting with congressional leadership, Justin had worked his vidlink as much as possible. Every single favor he was owed had been called in.

He’d argued the merits of Zeivlot and Zavlot’s joining the Coalition until his voice went hoarse with any assemblyman or senator that would speak to him, which was virtually all except the most extreme Peace Union members.

But it wasn’t enough. The current vote count suggested that while they would win in a landslide in the Assembly, the Senate was a far different story, just as Kaufman had predicted. While Justin was pressing flesh and trying to shore up support, the senator was doing the exact opposite. He’d seemingly made it his life’s mission to tank the vote, going so far as to enlist the political parties who were diametrically opposed to his stated beliefs.

I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. The man isn’t a lousy politician, and he’s proven that over two decades in the Senate. Given the stalemate, Justin decided on a radical course of action. In conjunction with Speaker Vasquez and the Senate parliamentarian, he arranged for a joint session of Congress. Departing from tradition, a vote was scheduled on a bill to admit Zeivlot and Zavlot as probationary members of the Terran Coalition directly after his speech.

Justin had no illusion that soaring oratory would cause a significant change in the vote count. He hoped to peel off a few senators and have the others consider it and get the resolution over the top. It’s the only play I have left besides folding up my tent.

Throughout the helicar trip from the White House, he’d held Michelle’s hand and said nothing as he mentally prepared for the speech. Justin’s walk through the Assembly chamber was unusually long, especially by his standards. He made a point of shaking the hand of everyone near the railing to the entryway, especially those from the minority parties—including any Peace Union member he judged as reasonable.

As Justin took the lectern and gazed at the hundreds of representatives from throughout the Terran Coalition, he smiled. “Madame Speaker, President Pro Tem, members of the Assembly, senators, honored guests, and fellow citizens, I thank you for the opportunity to address the combined legislative branch of our government today in what is likely my final time before you. In a few weeks, the Coalition will elect a new president, and I will return to being a private citizen. Today marks the fifteenth time I’ve stood on this podium and had the incredible responsibility of addressing the Assembly and Senate.”

The only feedback was intent staring from those in the well of the chamber and sneering, mostly from Kaufman and his closest allies.

Justin paid them no heed as he continued, “Today, I want to discuss the future of the Terran Coalition. Yes, we’re here to take a vote on adding two new member worlds and the first nonhuman planets to ever be considered. But there’s a more fundamental discussion to be had. And that is what we want our way of life and system of government to look like in the future. Some of us believe in isolationism, that we should put the needs of our citizens above all else and let the rest of the universe take care of itself. History shows, however, that this doesn’t work.”

“Coalition first!” someone with an English accent yelled from the back of the chamber.

It took Justin a moment to zero in on the senator from Churchill, but when he did, he glared at the man. “When great powers step back from the galactic stage, it invites other nations to take over. Do we want the League of Sol setting policy for the Milky Way? I think not. I believe that when faced with large-scale external threats, the Terran Coalition should lead. That’s why SATO was created in the first place, so that those who share our values can work with us and we, with them, to hold back the night.”

At least half the chamber sprang to its feet in applause. Others let boos fly, but they were dramatically outnumbered.

“Thank you,” Justin said after a few seconds. “I believe with all my heart that to whom much is given, much is required. We’ve been entrusted with a republic that has not only great wealth, numerous worlds, vast technology, and a strong military—but also and most importantly, citizens who understand and value our way of life. We know the cost of freedom because an entire generation has paid it.”

A few dozen kilometers away, in David’s apartment in Lawrence City, he sat in front of the holoprojector, watching the speech. The nondescript dwelling had gotten some much-needed character in the form of redecoration by Bo’hai, who’d pronounced it the most sterile living environment she’d ever seen upon walking through the door.

Bo’hai laid her head on his shoulder as they listened intently to Justin extolling the virtues of SATO and working together with the other Sagittarius Arm empires.

“All this is to say,” Justin continued via the holoprojector, “perhaps we would be in a stronger position if we had stood aside when Zeivlot and Zavlot were threatened with destruction. Maybe the nanite menace would’ve stopped and been content with Sextans B. But our spirit would’ve begun to die. That sort of thing doesn’t erase a great civilization overnight. No, it would take a few generations before endemic rot set in and, eventually, our institutions crumbled in on themselves. But we didn’t take that route. Instead, we stood up for fourteen billion people four-point-five-million light-years from here.”

More applause and cheering came through along with a smattering of boos.

“Now, we have a choice. Do we leave those we helped save to fend for themselves, or do we accept their request to join our Coalition? I believe we should welcome them with open arms. And someday, our republic will become something more than it is now. It will evolve into a federation of species, united in common beliefs, respect for the rule of law, and a shared culture.”

Bo’hai gripped David’s hand. “Do you think he’s right?”

“Yes.”

After another wave of applause that was less intense and marked by additional jeering, Justin continued. “Why should we do this? Because we are strong and are made stronger by welcoming those who wish to abide by our constitution and long for the same freedoms we enjoy. The Terran Coalition stands as a shining city on a hill, lighting the way for others. And I pray that its lamp will never be extinguished.”

David pursed his lips. He’d fought for those ideals for more than twenty years. President Spencer might not be perfect, but in this, he’s one of our best leaders. Thank HaShem that all came together as it was intended to.

“Caution is important as we contemplate welcoming new species into the Coalition,” Justin said as another round of applause wound down. “Because you cannot fit a square peg into a round hole, as my mother would’ve said. The exact requirements for human worlds must apply to any others, as some of those who oppose what I’m asking of you have repeated ad nauseam. They say the only thing holding us together is our culture. And that’s absolutely right because humans come in all shapes, sizes, colors, and creeds. We have wildly different religious beliefs and opposing political viewpoints.”

To Justin, the next bit was the most essential portion of his remarks. “The glue of the Terran Coalition is our shared civic ideals. We believe that all sentient beings 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. To be a citizen of this nation, you must believe that. If you want to join our Coalition, as an immigrant or as a new member world, yearning for the same rights, responsibilities, and obligations as the rest of us, you must believe those words with all your being. Those rights do not come from our government. They come from God. We recognize that what God has given, we cannot and will not attempt to take away.”

Thunderous applause erupted from all over the chamber. Members of every major political party came to their feet, including the Peace Union. However, Justin noticed Representative Rhodes, formerly the vice president, sat on her hands and scowled. How she ever made it back into the Assembly, I will never know.

“Zeivlot and Zavlot, for all their differences from us, share our ideals. They believe in freedom, even if their implementation isn’t perfect. They understand that a government’s validity ultimately comes from those it serves. They believe in God and worship Him. They share our civic culture and will make an incredible contribution to society. And in the end… E Pluribus unum. Out of many, one.”

Again, polite applause followed.

“We now have a choice before us. Approve this application, or deny it. I could say to you that opinion polls throughout the Terran Coalition show broad support for the Sextans B intervention. I could also say there is nearly the same number in favor of adding Zeivlot and Zavlot to our union, but I won’t. Because we shouldn’t make decisions based on polls or on sticking it to our political opponents. We do things because they’re right or wrong. This is the right course, and I ask every member of our Assembly and Senate to vote their conscience, regardless of party.”

Justin held up his hands as more applause and cheers erupted. There were conspicuously fewer boos and jeers. “Thank you. May God bless you all, and may He continue to bless the Terran Coalition!” As he walked off the dais, most of the Assembly and Senate along with the entire gallery rose in a standing ovation.

Speaker Vasquez strode to the lectern and spoke into the microphone. “Order. Order on the floor, please. We will begin the vote for both chambers now by electronic tally. All members will have ten minutes.”

Under normal circumstances, the chief executive—Justin—would be nowhere near the floor as assemblymen and senators cast their votes, but he sat in a chair at the side of the chamber, his eyes glued to the vote-total board.

Large blocks came in quickly for the motion, smaller ones against. While the Assembly totals quickly got above the required two-thirds-majority threshold, the Senate, as predicted, was far closer.

Justin watched, his heart pounding and sweat beading on his brow.

Groups of two and three senators huddled together, some gesturing and giving the appearance of mini debates occurring all over the chamber floor while votes continued to trickle in. The nay column dropped by one, and the yeas gained. On and on, minute by agonizing minute, the politicking continued.

Staring, Justin alternated between praying, thinking positively, and hoping for a minor miracle.

Then it happened. The yea column ticked to one above the minimum needed for approval, then another was added. The final total locked in as the buzzer sounded, signifying an end to the voting.

Vasquez took a few steps back to the lectern and banged her gavel. “Seeing as the Terran Coalition Assembly and Senate have approved the resolution with a two-thirds majority, the bill will be sent to President Spencer for his signature. This session stands adjourned!”

Tears came to Justin’s eyes as he fought down emotion. Thank you, Lord, for showing me the way. He stood and gave a thumbs-up, and another thunderous round of applause followed.

Mission accomplished.

47

Usually, delivering a speech energized Justin, but he felt oddly drained coming off what could arguably be called the most significant political win of his career and one that would set the Terran Coalition on a new path through the cosmos. While the election would be in a couple of weeks, he’d avoided all mention of politics on the holonets and maintained a steadfast resolve to keep his pact with Fuentes of not getting involved.

He would vote for Rachel Muraro and sorely hoped she would pull out the victory. Opinion polls looked good, though one couldn’t put too much stock in them. Justin had found them to be wildly inaccurate at times during his career. I think my time is done. He felt a weariness he couldn’t quantify after being in charge of the largest human supranational entity in the galaxy for twelve years. Every waking moment had been spent focused on the well-being of the Coalition.

Next, he would have a chance to rest and more actively participate in the lives of his youngest children. Maggie and Owen were grown, had finished their required stints in the CDF, and had moved on to their careers. But Candace and Mark were still young, with Candace being the youngest. It will be good for my family to relax for a bit before moving on to whatever the next thing is. What do former presidents do besides start foundations and manage their libraries anyway?

The primary door to the Oval Office flew open, and Rollins strode in. “You’re not going to believe this.”

“The League’s invading us again,” Justin deadpanned. “No, wait. Hostile aliens have erupted from pods all over major cities on Canaan?”

“Very funny, sir. No, stranger. Prime Minister Ascaro is here and wants to see you. She says it’s in regard to SATO business.”

Justin’s eyebrows rose. That isn’t done. “Did she show up at the front gate? No call or request?”

“Pretty much. We’ve got her downstairs, but the book doesn’t cover this one. I suggest you ask Ascaro to make a proper appointment.”

Justin stroked his chin as he kicked the various options around. This is too weird. “You know, I’m a lame duck anyway. Can’t hurt to see what the prime minister wants, and I owe her personally.”

“At least let me get some people from protocol—”

“No. I’ll take the meeting with just her.”

Rollins stared at him. “You know that’s not exactly how we do things.”

Typically, each leader had a small team to manage the meeting and create readouts of the discussion topics and agreed-upon points. Justin had departed from those best practices while in Sextans B and still hadn’t heard the end of it from his chief of staff.

“I know. Then again, we don’t normally expand the Coalition to another galaxy, nor do presidents serve three terms.”

“You’re incorrigible, sir.” Rollins chuckled. “I’ll send her in.”

“Thank you.”

Justin let his mind wander for a few minutes as he waited for Lusitania’s prime minister to arrive. Half the time, he was shocked to still be alive after engaging in desperate combat over Zeivlot. Probably my last sortie too. Michelle certainly hopes so.

The door swung open, and Rollins walked back in, followed by Ascaro.

“Ah, Prime Minister. It’s good to see you,” Justin said as he stood and walked around the desk.

Ascaro smiled and extended her hand.

Justin shook it and gestured to the couches. “Please, join me. Thank you for escorting her, Richard.”

With an exasperated sigh, Rollins took the hint and closed the door behind him.

“Your people would prefer we do not meet in private,” Ascaro said.

“I appreciate directness. No, it’s outside of standard operating procedures, and more to the point, how you got here is a bit… Let’s call it strange.”

Ascaro chuckled as she sat. “I wanted to see your speech in person.”

Justin’s eyes widened. “You were in the gallery?”

“It is amazing how much a woman can change her appearance with jewelry and a good hat.”

Justin laughed and shook his head. “Impressive, Prime Minister.”

Ascaro glanced around the office. “I had two of my close protection officers with me and felt there was little danger.”

“So, I’ll ask the million-credit question. What brings you out our way?”

Ascaro stared into his eyes. “That should be obvious. And before you ask, I needed to see you in person to determine what I would do next.”

Justin was bewildered and had no idea what she would say or do next. He remembered the panic button under the coffee table separating the couches and several more strategically placed around the room. That would make Rollins’s day. “I’m afraid you have me at a severe disadvantage, Prime Minister.”

“I’ve met privately with representatives from the Saurian Empire and Matrinid Combine to discuss who the next SATO secretary general will be.”

Justin narrowed his eyes. Ah, and there it is. He wondered who they had in mind, knowing only it wouldn’t be someone from the Terran Coalition government or CDF, as all three parties repeatedly made it clear they felt the Coalition held too much power to begin with. “Have you picked a candidate?”

“I wasn’t sure until I heard you speak today.” Ascaro smoothed out her dress.

“Well, don’t make me drag it out of you,” Justin replied with a small smile.

“Have you made any decisions about your future?”

Justin shrugged. “It’s typically an accepted custom that when a Coalition president finishes his stint in office, he gets out of the way of the next administration, regardless of party. I know the parliamentary system works a touch differently.”

“Oh, we never go away. Sticking it to the winning party if you lose is a time-honored tradition on Lusitania.”

“You know, I think at the end of the day, I’m going to go home to my ranch, spend time with family, and catch up on my paintings.”

Ascaro blinked rapidly. “As in art?”

“Why’s everyone so surprised? I like doing portraits.”

“I have a proposal for you, Mr. President. One that doesn’t involve painting portraits.”

“Oh? And what might that be?”

“SATO needs a new secretary general, as I said earlier. T’rass was only slated to serve two years, and that’s up. I’ve spoken with the other signatories, and everyone believes you would make an ideal candidate.”

Justin had to play back what she’d said several times in his mind before he allowed himself to comprehend it. “You want me to lead SATO?”

“Is that such a stretch?”

Justin opened his mouth and closed it. I was told I wasn’t done serving yet. Perhaps this is what He meant. “No. I would be honored to help in any way I’m able.”

“Then it is done. We will submit your name for consideration and a vote after the new president is sworn in. Now, I need to get out of here without raising any further suspicions, and I’m sure you’re overwhelmed with work.”

Justin stood. “This job’s the hardest I’ve ever had. But I’ve loved doing it, and I’ll bring that passion to SATO as well.”

“I’m sure of it.” Ascaro smiled as she stood. “Good day, and Godspeed, Justin.”

“You, too, Paulina.”

As she walked out, Justin felt content. He took a moment to thank God for his blessings and for a continued chance to help the most people. Whatever lay ahead, he would meet it the same way he did everything else in life: with courage, commitment, and faith.

Ruth shoved a tray with the ingredients for two meals into the automatic food preparation device in the kitchen of her and Taylor’s apartment. Doing that was a significant adjustment for her, as was having their own place. She’d never maintained separate quarters outside of whatever the CDF assigned her. Being domestic is not something I ever anticipated.

“What’s for dinner?” Taylor asked as he entered.

“Baked chicken and vegetables.” Ruth scrunched her nose. “At least, that’s what the box claimed. Who knows? Could be synthetic.”

Taylor snickered. “It’d better not be, for what we’re paying for it.” He walked over and put his arms around her.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Ruth whispered as she let herself enjoy the embrace.

“Oh?”

“You know… living together, being a regular couple.”

Taylor grinned. “I don’t see what’s so strange. It’s what people do.”

“I blow Leaguers, random hostile aliens, and nanites up for a living. Cooking isn’t on the menu.”

“Apparently, it is now.”

Ruth playfully swatted at him before letting out a giggle. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Uh-oh. Famous last words. I’ve never had a good conversation that started with ’em.”

Ruth turned and put her hands on his face. “Are you sure you want to leave the CDF? I heard through the grapevine that General Cohen had a two-step promotion lined up for you. Stay in a few more years, and you’d get retirement pay too.”

“No.” Taylor shook his head. “I’m done there. I did my duty and then some. And it’s not a few years, dear. We’re talking seven or eight, depending on how the bean counters figure it up.”

“Not quite as long for me.”

Taylor grinned. “Cradle robber.”

“Oh, Robert Taylor, you’d better run because when I—”

He kissed her. “I already caught you.”

Ruth rolled her eyes. “Are you sure you won’t resent my staying in?”

“Not at all.”

She’d been offered the executive officer position on the Lion by Colonel Aibek and couldn’t turn it down. But if Robert asked, I know I would. Just as if I asked him to do something that really mattered, he would too.

“Besides, I’ve already got four job offers, and one of them is from Strydeclyth Shipboard Integrators.”

Ruth tilted her head. “I vaguely recognize that name.”

“Kenneth Lowe’s company. If I’ve got to work for a slimy contractor, might as well be one of the better ones. But I also have offers from a commercial firm on Galt. My cryptography skills are in demand.”

“Galters? Don’t those guys pay the most credits of anyone?”

Taylor snorted. “Sometimes. But I don’t want to work for a Galt-based company. And I rather like the idea of continuing to support the CDF, even if I’m not wearing the uniform. SSI has good paternity benefits too. Two weeks off.”

Of all the changes and adjustments Ruth had experienced since getting married, the topic of children was most profound. She’d never been interested in being a mother. Having maternal instincts was challenging when every living moment was spent focused on killing Leaguers. She’d assumed it would never be in the cards—until Taylor and his dogged insistence over the years. A part of her—admittedly, still a small one—looked forward to creating a family. This new life… it’s scarier than any battle I’ve been in. “Four years. Then we’ll take the plunge.”

“Deal.”

Ruth rested her head on his chest and realized that while the pain and bitterness from the past would never be entirely gone, it had receded more than she’d ever felt possible. More than anything, Ruth was happy, and she cherished the feeling.

Epilogue

Outside Lawrence City

Canaan

8 August 2467

David climbed out of the family helicar—which had been surprisingly affordable on a three-star general’s salary—and stretched his legs. The flight out to his mother’s house hadn’t been too long, as she still lived in his childhood home. Set in an Orthodox enclave, the neighborhood was familiar to him. He could point out where numerous friends had lived, though almost all had moved on by now.

He circled the vehicle and opened the passenger door before taking the six-week-old baby from Bo’hai’s arms.

She got out and smiled. “You seem apprehensive.”

David shook his head. “You don’t know me.”

“Oh, I know you well, husband.” Bo’hai chuckled.

“Yes. I’ll be okay. Lots of memories here. Not all of them good.”

Bo’hai put her arm around him. “It will be fine.”

David nodded. “Let’s go before our son catches a cold.”

They walked to the front door, and David kissed his finger before touching a pewter case inscribed with Hebrew lettering.

“What is that?” Bo’hai asked.

“The mezuzah. Well, that’s the outer covering. There’s a piece of parchment inside with verses from the Torah. Every house that has Jews living in it has one. It’s one of our mitzvot.”

“I still have things to learn.”

“Ah, being a Jew is a lifetime of learning.” He grinned and pressed the door chime.

No sooner had he pulled back his finger than the door flew open, and Sarah, his mother, appeared before them. “David! Salena!” She rushed forward and embraced him then Bo’hai.

Sarah stared at the little bundle David held, and tears came to her eyes. “Please, come in, both of you.”

“So this is where David grew up?” Bo’hai asked as she stepped in.

“Yes, like a time capsule from 2433.” David grinned. “Hi, Mom. How are you doing?”

“Much better now that I’ve met my grandson. I was starting to think that would never happen.”

David smiled but inwardly winced. He’d long since gotten tired of the hints to get married and have a family. “Well, no need for that now.”

“Message received,” she replied dryly. “May I hold him?”

“Of course,” Salena replied and gently handed the baby over.

Sarah tucked him into her arms. “Oh, so long since I’ve gotten to hold a little one. What did you end up naming him? You’ve been quite coy in not telling me.”

“I wanted to say it in person, Mom,” David replied. “Did a lot of soul searching, but we decided on Levi.”

“He would be so proud of you,” Sarah whispered as tears came to her eyes.

David pursed his lips. “I know.”

Clearly fighting to avoid sobbing and waking the baby, Sarah swallowed. “Shall we go to the living room? I made refreshments.”

David put his arm around Bo’hai. “Nothing beats your cooking.”

He felt an immense sense of peace as they gathered around the coffee table. His life was complete, and while there were still threats in the universe, he was at ease. He thanked HaShem for it daily. I am blessed and owe it all to the Lord. Now, I just have to avoid screwing this perfection up. David was up for the task.

Kenneth Lowe detested meetings except the one nicknamed the “informal board meeting” by most of those who worked on the executive level. Once a week, he had Joshua Carter and Harold Billings come by his office to talk strategy. The two men had been his right hands for a decade, and beyond that, they were the best of friends. They sat across from him in the CEO’s office. But despite how long Kenneth had been in charge at SSI, he still didn’t feel at home in the opulent suite.

Billings cleared his throat and held up a tablet. “So, boss, what’s on the agenda beyond our delayed repair schedule?”

“Hmm. I’ve been considering new areas we could expand into.”

“Perhaps we should get our existing contracts back on track before looking to the future.”

Kenneth grinned. “Okay, Master Chief, point taken.”

“Examining the future isn’t a bad idea,” Joshua interjected. “Not with a bevy of contracts coming from SATO.”

“We can barely navigate CDF red tape. You want to add Saurian and Matrinid bureaucracy to the mix?” Billings snorted. “What’s that even look like? Do you get executed if you don’t finish a Saurian contract on time?”

Kenneth couldn’t help but laugh. “Thanks, Master Chief. I needed that. It’s been a long week. Honestly, I don’t know what to expect with SATO procurements. But I’ve hired a consultant to brief us on what she’s learned.”

Joshua threw his hands into the air. “Great. Just what the universe needs: more consultants. The only thing worse would be that… what was that quad system they found in Sextans B with a ton of lawyers in it? Jan… Jinvaas something?”

“Jinvaas Confederation,” Kenneth replied. “I’m sure somebody’s going to head out there to help them do holocommericals.”

Billings adopted a faux announcer voice. “When it must be litigated to win, call Jinvaas. We don’t stop until you collect.”

Everyone groaned, and Joshua slapped his knee. “Oh, Lord, save us from that fate.”

“Okay, getting this back on track,” Kenneth said, “I’m thinking about looking at some zero-G construction deals.”

Joshua tilted his head. “Outside our swim lane, boss.”

“I know. It would be a new business unit. But the way I see it, with our expanding to a new galaxy and fleshing out SATO, there will be work there.” While Kenneth wasn’t one to constantly chase more credits—he was pleased with the size of SSI and saw no point in growing so large that they lost the family atmosphere they’d worked so hard to cultivate—he also knew that to stop innovating totally invited a slow decline or, worse, the implosion of the company.

“None of us have that experience.”

“Well, it just so happens I’ve got a line on a unit manager. Demood turned me on to this guy. John Wilson, former skipper of the CSV Salinan.”

Billings nodded. “I read about him. Set up dozens of shipyards and managed deploying two hundred destroyers by the Zeivlots and Zavlots, right?”

“One and the same.”

“Let’s do it,” Joshua said with a grin. “Sounds like our kind of guy.”

“Agreed,” Billings added.

Kenneth loved to have consensus among the three of them. They were his sounding board and could be counted on to tell him when an idea was out of bounds or risky. “All right. I’ll get in touch with Wilson tomorrow.” He glanced at his chronometer. “And it’s beyond time for me to get out of here and go home to my wife.”

“You’ve stuck with that work–life balance thing, Boss,” Billings said.

Joshua stood. “Nothing wrong with that either.”

“Amen,” Kenneth replied. “Okay. See you guys tomorrow.”

The three men said their goodbyes before Kenneth got his things together and headed for the shuttle down to Churchill. Another couple of weeks, and I can tell them Catherine and I are expecting our first child. He smiled and kept walking with a spring in his step.

SATO Security Council Chamber

Lawrence City—Canaan

12 September 2467

The security council had not yet determined a final build site for SATO Headquarters, though the current thinking was to distribute various allied commands among the signatory nations. Justin had found that getting anything done that required buy-in from four separate interstellar governments was difficult. But not impossible. For the moment, they rotated among the members, depending on who held chairmanship over the security council for the current six-month period.

The day’s meeting marked a momentous occasion, as it was the first full council meeting after Zeivlot and Zavlot had voted overwhelmingly to join the Terran Coalition. Not only ambassadors but senior diplomats were in attendance as well.

Justin had made it known that he planned to introduce a new initiative that would require approval from all to proceed. After calling the meeting to order and moving through the minutiae of motions and acceptance of ordinary business items, he got down to the meat of their discussion.

“Secretary General Justin Spencer is recognized for a special item,” Martha Flanagan said. She was the council chairwoman during the time it met on Canaan.

“Thank you, Ambassador.” Justin gazed around the room, which had the insignia of the alliance on a round table in the center, while a meter back, a circular stand of chairs and custom-built desks ringed it. The circle signified all were equal. “I do, indeed, have a proposal today. As our alliance looks to the future, a new defensive flank is on the horizon. Following our successful intervention into the Sextans B galaxy, it is SATO’s back door.”

The Saurian ambassador seemed to take special note and gave him a hawk-like glare. The others listened intently as well.

“But it’s more than just an additional front we must protect. Sextans B is a new frontier, and the twin planets of Zeivlot and Zavlot are its gateway. What I propose is that we build a SATO space station near the stable wormhole that links our two galaxies. Jointly funded and constructed by all four member nations. We will staff it with soldiers from all our respective militaries, and it will become a place where explorers and diplomats can gather. Why? Because in a galaxy without a major power, SATO can expand. New mining colonies, new technology, and perhaps in time, additions to our ranks here.”

“The Matrinid Combine has all that is needed in the Milky Way,” the Matrinid Ambassador interjected, her voice distorted through the translation matrix.

“You don’t want to sell your commercial goods to others, engage in mutually beneficial trade, and grow your economy?” Justin asked.

“The mighty Terran Coalition will allow others to stake a claim in Sextans B, not just itself?” Ks’srili, the Saurian ambassador, asked.

“As long as it’s uninhabited and unclaimed by systems not within fifty light-years of another power.” Those rules were the same as those in the Canaan Convention on Human and Alien Rights, which had been agreed to by all the current parties, so Justin hoped they would be readily acceptable.

“That meets with our approval,” Mavik Ts’shris, the ambassador for the Independent Systems Federation and former head of security on Trinidad Station, said. “What of allowing large-scale multiplanet corporations?”

Justin grimaced. He hated megacorps with a passion, something that was ingrained into most Terran Coalition leaders and an issue all sides of the political spectrum agreed on. “What of them? Our policy remains not to allow them in our space.”

“The Saurian Empire concurs.”

“And the others?”

Ts’shris nodded. “The Independent Systems Federation votes in favor.”

“While the Matrinid Combine does not see a need to expand, we support a method to defend the wormhole and on this basis will move to proceed.”

“Does the Coalition have plans in place for construction?” Ks’srili asked.

“We do, though they are certainly up for discussion before ratifying the design.”

Ks’srili held up a claw. “What do you propose to name this station?”

What an odd question. “Joint Base Sagittarius Arch.”

“Ah, good. We tire of the human tradition of naming military bases and vessels after human heroes. This acknowledges the role of all.”

Amid crosstalk between several ambassadors over the name, General MacIntosh, who was seated behind Justin, leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “Nicely done, sir. I didn’t expect it to be that easy.”

Justin leaned back and answered, “That’s because they don’t have to pay as much and know we’ll shoulder most of the load.”

MacIntosh snorted. “Don’t get me started.”

“I’ll need you to find me another crackerjack commanding officer. Someone unique, with military and diplomatic skills.”

“Why me?”

“Because you found David Cohen.” Justin flashed a smile. “And because you’re the Supreme Allied Space Force Commander.”

“Just hearing that title makes me want to retire tomorrow.”

They both chuckled before Justin directed his eyes toward Ks’srili, who was making a point about customs duties from galaxy to galaxy. Justin had no idea what would come next, but he was sure they would meet it head-on. As we do every other challenge. Godspeed, indeed. Above all, he believed he was where he was supposed to be. And, I pray, doing what’s right.

Galaxy Bridge: Book 1 - Forward Command

Colonel Mateo Larra takes command of Joint Base Sagittarius Arch, and is immediately confronted with a unique set of trials. Smugglers, League of Sol spies, newly discovered alien species, and everything in between stands between him and accomplishing his objective: to keep the peace. When a hostile lifeform attacks the station, everything is on the line, and nothing is as it seems.

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KEEP READING FOR A SPECIAL PREVIEW OF FORWARD COMMAND!

Sneak Peak - Forward Command

Prologue

CFSV Sennebec

XB505 Star System – Sextans B Galaxy

21 April 2468

Captain Audrey Tennant cradled her mug of steaming mint tea. The aroma was the best break she could give her sinuses after weeks underway without a chance to recharge her survey frigate’s ventilation systems. She could take a walk through the small arboretum off the portside lounge, but even there, among the hydroponic greens, human body odor and worn-out plastics tainted the air.

She didn’t realize she needed it until the mint smell hit her nostrils.

The scent was strong enough to make her never drink another cup again, but then she took the first sip. The hot liquid soothed her throat and her mind. Every time. One of these days, I might actually give up the habit.

“Conn, Sensor.” That would be her Observation chief, Tallarico. “I’ve got an anomaly on the long-range readings.”

“Acknowledged, Sensor. Anything interesting, Chief?”

“Depends, Skipper. I did say ‘anomaly,’ so that would imply interesting.”

Tennant smiled and gestured with her mug at the sprawling starscape out the main viewscreen. A purple haze tinged with pink was smeared across the top third. “It’s a new galaxy. Everything out here is an anomaly. That’s why we’re in the Far Survey Corps’ favorite playground.”

“Yes, sir, but this one’s a bit more anomalous. Routing the feeds up to Conn.”

Tennant’s armchair console chirped with the incoming data transfer. She tapped the control.

Then she frowned and put the information on the main viewscreen.

A lumpen, misshapen object about the size of her fist drifted at the center of the starfield. Tennant squinted. It appeared to be tumbling.

“What’s the word, Skipper?” Lieutenant Brian Tervo folded his arms. He stood portside of the helm console.

“The word, XO, is that rock.” She magnified the readout, making the object twenty times larger.

Strike that. It wasn’t just a rock. It was nearly transparent in places. Distant sunlight from the system’s primary star shot through those clear edges, turning sharp corners onto yellow-tinged verdant surfaces.

“Crystalline structure,” the sensor chief said through the intercom. “But that’s about all we can get out of it. I don’t know if it’s the range, the composition, or both. Nothing about the energy signature we’re getting off it makes sense.”

“Energy signature?” Tennant raised an eyebrow in Tervo’s direction. “It’s a crystal, you said. We shouldn’t be getting any signatures off it, unless you’re talking radioactive decay.”

“No, sir, I’m talking a power source or at least faint traces of one.”

He was right—not that Tennant had any doubts about the chief’s ability or the accuracy of his department’s equipment. He would have a crewman out on the hull, polishing sensor leads, the second he thought there was even a minor malfunction. Tennant examined the readouts, which were displayed in larger format on the left side of the viewscreen. Definite power supply. The sensor computers were having trouble matching the information they were receiving with a known source.

“Best guess seems to be a failing reactor, possibly cruiser size.” Tervo rubbed at the whiskers on his chin. He was due a shave, but then again, so were most of the male crew. They’d had their noses pressed to their monitors nonstop for the past several days.

Tennant smothered a smile. How could they not? So many wonders were out there—new stellar phenomena, undiscovered biospheres, and exofauna the likes of which they’d never seen in their home galaxy. Not a soul aboard would let up when the demands increased.

But she focused her attention on something else about the interloping object. “Am I reading this wrong, or is the object’s velocity near zero?”

“Zero relative to most other bodies in the region, Skipper. That’s correct,” the chief said. “Which also doesn’t make sense. Our survey of the system has cataloged tens of thousands of asteroids, comets, and other minor bodies, but the bulk of their velocities fall within a common range, no matter their trajectories.”

“Let me guess,” Tennant said. “This one is the exception.”

“It’s the only exception, sir. Out of those thousands.”

Tennant raised an eyebrow. She glanced at Tervo and found her XO grinning.

“We’ll get there quicker if you give the order, sir,” Tervo teased.

“That, we will. Helm, Conn, set course to intercept the target object.” Tennant took her seat again. “Match velocity upon our arrival to the object in question, maintaining distance of a thousand klicks, and slow from there.”

“Conn, Helm, aye,” the young ensign seated at the Helm controls said. “Setting course and engaging drives at your command.”

Tennant drummed her fingers on the arms of her chair. “Let’s go see what we have.”

The crystalline object was even more beautiful close up.

Tennant paced behind Helm and TAO as the Sennebec closed the final distance at a snail’s pace. They were down to less than a hundred klicks, and even with the Sennebec decelerating, that final distance was fading fast.

The true scale of the object became clear. At two thousand meters long, it easily dwarfed every ship in the Coalition Defense Forces arsenal. Tennant’s heart raced as the magnitude dawned on her. Even the Lion of Judah doesn’t match it.

“Looks like someone grabbed both ends of a sea urchin and tugged,” Tervo muttered.

“No, it reminds me of those science experiments we did as kids,” Tennant said. “The ones where we grew crystals on a string.”

Both their descriptions had merit, Tennant realized. The crystals were randomized in the way they extended from the core. The largest were a dozen meters across and a hundred meters long. The pale-yellow-and-green colors took on a bluish and pinkish color scheme up close, though the original shades were still visible.

“Conn, Sensor. Anything new to report, Chief?”

“Only more detailed versions of the preliminary scans, Captain. In fact, I don’t think closing the distance did us much good.”

Tennant found his comment accurate when she studied the updated readouts. She was hoping for greens but found much more oranges and reds than she wanted. The power output came across as both off the charts and weaker than that of her vessel. None of it made sense.

But she couldn’t tear her gaze away from the viewscreen for long. The crystalline shape had a curious fluidity to it, as if the spikes changed shape when she happened to glance somewhere else. The colors had faded in several spots, too, allowing more hazy views of the starry expanse behind the object.

“Focus everything we have available on it,” Tennant said. “Brian, rack a full load of probes into Tube Four. Set them for maximum dispersal.”

“Aye, Skipper. Loading Tube Four with six probes. Set for maximum dispersal.” Tervo repeated the order to the young ensign seated at the probe control station.

Tennant shifted her weight. A series of tremors carried through the deck plates from the launch tubes three decks below the bridge.

“Tube Four loaded and ready for launch,” Tervo reported.

“Commence probe launch.”

“Commencing probe launch. Aye.”

Pinpricks of light shot out from the bottom-right corner of the Sennebec’s viewscreen, one after the other, in perfect synchronicity. The first five had spread out into a broad spiral as the six probes cleared the tube.

“Probes deployed, Captain.” Tervo leaned toward the console. “Telemetry feeding back to Sensor Room.”

“Sensor, Conn. Receiving telemetry from Probes Thirteen through Eighteen.”

“How’s it looking, Chief?”

“Getting a sharper set of readouts, sir, but the energy output isn’t… Hang on. That doesn’t seem right. The pattern’s no longer randomized.”

“Oh?” Tennant checked her console. The power output had organized into something far more coherent than what they’d first detected. The similarity to a warship’s reactor was startling—more so when the power level leaped far beyond anything they’d seen during the encounter.

“What the hell?” Tervo muttered.

Tennant looked up. The longest spikes protruding from the object were opening up like petals, except she realized her flower comparison was too comforting. The blossoming crystals had jagged edges, like the mouths of carnivorous plants.

Flickering purple light erupted from each one, six in all. Distant blooms of yellow and orange answered.

“Conn, TAO.” Lieutenant Deaver sat as stiff as a stanchion at her post. “Those were directed energy strikes. Probes Thirteen and Eighteen are no longer on the scopes. I’ve got scattered debris fields.”

“TAO, give me shields,” Tennant snapped. “XO, go to condition one.”

A ripple passed over the viewscreen just in time, as more flashes flickered across the crystal’s surfaces. Tennant grimaced. The Sennebec bucked under the impacts. She wasn’t a warship. Survey ships were agile and sturdy, with deflectors that could withstand all manner of interstellar phenomena, but they weren’t built for combat, only observation and investigation.

And escape, if necessary.

Tervo punched his console’s surface. “General quarters! This is the XO. Man battle stations. Repeat, man battle stations! Set material condition one shipwide. This is not a drill!”

“Conn, Navigation. Bring us about, and spin up the Lawrence drive.”

“Navigation, Conn. Aye, sir. Lawrence Drive is charging.”

“TAO, make tubes one and two ready in all respects, and open outer doors.”

“Aye aye, sir, tubes one and two rea—”

The Sennebec shuddered so violently that everyone who wasn’t strapped in or holding on was thrown from their consoles. The side of Tennant’s head smacked the deck, and in one groggy moment, she couldn’t figure out how she’d landed upside down.

“Comms!” Tennant croaked. “Send a distress signal. Pack as much scan data as you can. Sensor, Conn. Do you read?”

Static filled the intercom.

“Conn, TAO. Shields are inoperable!” Deaver clung to her console. Blood from a cut across her forehead obscured half her face.

“Damage Control reports hull breaches on Decks Two through Six.” Tervo cradled his right forearm, which had developed a bulge under his uniform sleeve that told Tennant he’d broken a bone.

The comms officer worked the control board with such speed that Tennant admired the way he tuned out the shouting and the alarms. The thick smoke filtering through the HVAC systems didn’t help, either, as everyone soon developed a hacking cough.

“Snap shot, tubes one and two!” Tennant gasped out the command, bypassing protocol in a desperate attempt to do something—anything—to prevent whatever they faced from killing her crew and destroying her command.

Missiles raced out from the Sennebec. The flowerlike growths swatted all but one down. The last projectile exploded in a brilliant fireball that reflected a dozen times over on the transparent and mirrored crystalline edges. Glittering shards spread in a slow cloud. Tennant found it more beautiful than the object in her addled state.

Spikes jutted straight out. They slammed into the Sennebec’s port side. Tennant felt the impact in her bones, heard the terrible groan from the rent hull, and shivered at the sudden cold as the life support systems gave out. She groped for her chair’s console. The evacuation signal…

The groan grew into an ear-splitting screech and expanded into a roar that seemed to fill not only the compartment but also her insides. Tennant felt sick to her stomach.

A massive rip opened along the bridge’s port side. Tennant couldn’t breathe. Her lungs felt like they were being flattened. Her skin burned as her uniform shredded. The gap where the bulkhead had been revealed black space and shining stars. Crystal blotted out the view.

Tennant begged God to let her die. She didn’t want to live through whatever was next. But she was afraid. Nothing had scared her so badly, not even when the Sennebec had lost power in a gas giant’s gravity well or when she had dived through microgravity to retrieve a probe jammed into the crack of a spinning asteroid.

Crystal spikes drove deep through the broken hull and flooded the bridge, jabbing into Tennant’s body. She cried out as the intense cold overwhelmed her senses. What little breathing she could manage faltered, and her vision clouded.

Tennant could have sworn she saw the air itself buzzing with tiny specks before she lost consciousness.

One hundred twelve humans. Seventy-one were damaged beyond restoration. Fifty-one remained intact. Twenty of those fifty-one were terminal.

Thirty-one were salvageable.

The Kin removed the impaled flesh frames from the captured vessel. Reorganizers had already begun disassociating the vessel at the molecular level. Its elements would make fine additions to the Home. The power source was weak but could be absorbed with ease, providing more power—more strength.

The Kin hoisted the flesh frames deeper into the twisting caverns shielded inside the Home. Knitters slowly pieced artificial coverings and biological tissue back together, taking great care not to intertwine the materials of each—yet taking equal care to insinuate Archons into the centers of control.

Limbs twitched. Eyes flickered. Mouths opened. Lungs compressed. Hearts beat.

The blood they pumped was replenish and fortified with the Kin. The results were passable yet improved.

The Kin added the thirty-one to crystalline sarcophagi ringed around its power core. Total gathered: four hundred eighty-eight.

Soon.

The Home ceased its tumble, extended its seven longest spikes, and pushed energy through them until a portal opened in the fabric of space-time. The jump brought it one hundred light-years away—and that much closer to its target.

Chapter 1

CSV Eben Keach

Zan Star System

4 May 2468

There she was.

Colonel Mateo Larra knew he had to maintain his composure. He felt he’d done a stellar job so far, considering how many days it had taken to make the jumps from Canaan clear out to the K-type star and its dingy planetary companions. But the wondering, the doubt, and the anxiety he’d suppressed bubbled to the surface the second the Coalition Defense Force transport had made its last jump and the silvery shape appeared on the viewport occupying the forward part of the officer’s lounge.

He stared at his new command, pressing his hands against the viewport. Cold leached into them. Despite the thickness of the transparent material and the thermal reinforcement embedded as a faint, glinting spiderweb, the vacuum of interplanetary space seeped through.

He didn’t care. His attention was focused on the space station, which was still distant but big enough to discern as a beckoning shape that fit between his thumb and index finger when spread apart.

“It’s beautiful,” his wife, Esme, said.

Mateo nodded. He had no words to share with her in that instant. His gaze was locked onto the space station, as secure as a starfighter’s target-acquisition scanners.

Joint Base Sagittarius Arch was the perfect combination of bureaucratic nomenclature and visionary designation. And the base was nothing like the spheres or mushroom-capped structures he’d commanded in years past. She had a central core shaped like a blunted cone, with two long, curving arms with sharpened edges that extended far from opposite sides.

“Like a propellor.”

“A propellor?” Mateo glanced at Esme. She was as entranced by the sight as he was, her green eyes wide with wonder. “Care to elaborate, Doctor?”

“The mainstay of Earth aviation for half a century—and much longer, if you count private civilian use.” She smiled.” You may have to brush up on your history, Colonel, if you’re going to live on one.”

Mateo had seen plenty of aircraft in holographic histories and even civilian replicas of those ancient birds, but he hadn’t put two and two together as fast as she had. Frankly, he’d thought more of the ceiling fans at his parents’ Esperanza Island home back on Canaan. Granted, the long, symmetrical arms appeared much thicker and much sturdier and were shaped more like the polygonal fuselage of the CDF’s latest stealth shuttles. “Are you sure it’s not a pair of petals?”

“I wasn’t sure you’d appreciate a botanist’s perspective.” Esme looped an arm around his but made no effort to pull his hands away from the viewport. A digital readout spilled down its surface. “You’ll have plenty of time to study the schematics.”

“I don’t think I could study them any more than I already have. If I try to shove more readouts into my brain, my prayers will be left with a chunk of gray matter the size of my thumbnail compared to the fistful of data.”

They both laughed quietly, in part because they weren’t on their own in the officers’ lounge. It had been far too easy for Mateo to wipe the other two dozen people out of his awareness as the transport Keach made its final approach to the Arch. Mateo looked over his shoulder, curious as to whether the junior officers gathered there—some also with their spouses—were as enthralled as he was by the sight of their destination. The lounge accommodated everyone easily, with enough seating and tables left over for twice as many people. The furnishings were typical CDF spartan, but the cushions were comfortable enough.

Mateo just didn’t feel much like sitting. He hadn’t for hours.

Though he thought he recognized a few faces from the dossiers provided by Command, he wasn’t about to let that aspect of his responsibilities drag him away from the moment with his wife. Those men and women, as vital as they were to his new command’s operations, could wait a few hours.

This is about more than a command. This is about a home.

“Look at that place,” he said to Esme. “There’re ten times as many souls living aboard as I’ve ever had under my jurisdiction before, and I don’t mean just the CDF and SATO personnel. There are government officials, Frontier Enforcement staff, Coalition Far Survey Corps, and the like. The rest are civilian, from various SATO entities, including a pile of merchants looking to make a credit in the short- and long-term.”

“Don’t forget scientists.” Esme poked him in the side.

“I would never.” Mateo kissed her on the cheek. “You have to be as excited as I am.”

“Pretty close. Xenobotany is standing on the edge of a whole new galaxy’s worth of flora that we had no idea existed until the Lion of Judah made its return. We’re talking about entirely new life-forms that have developed under conditions we can only dream of, with genetic structures that may not resemble anything like what we’re used to analyzing. There’s so much potential for discovery and danger that I don’t even know where to begin, even with a fully staffed research facility and a gob of eager scientists at my disposal.”

“Just don’t be too harsh a taskmaster, mi amor. I’ll have my hands full, wrangling my crew and making sure the merchants play nice with one another.”

“And you get your own diplomats too.”

Mateo winced. Fortunately, everyone in the lounge—and aboard the Keach, for that matter—were CDF personnel. “Don’t remind me.”

“It won’t be that bad.”

“They’re politicians, Esme.”

“I don’t think that’s what ambassadors are, technically.”

“You’re right. Some are worse. They’re rich nobodies appointed by politicians and have no business meddling in interstellar affairs.” Mateo blew out a breath.

Esme laughed.

“What? Do you think I should keep that assessment to myself?”

“Oh, I don’t know. They may appreciate the frankness of your opinions, but it’s more likely they’ll raise Cain with Canaan, and that might raise shields in the way of your career, Colonel.”

My career. Mateo knew Esme hadn’t meant to touch on that particular anxiety. She couldn’t, when he hadn’t voiced it. But the station was the largest command he’d ever been offered—five thousand crew; a couple more thousand Coalition government employees in their associated departments and offices; and tens of thousands more civilians living and working on top of that. The station was brand new, based on a design so fresh off the drafting holograms that Mateo hoped they’d remembered to take the engineering logos off the bulkheads.

Esme was right about the need for diplomatic intervention. Mateo didn’t begrudge them their presence, no matter his gripes. He’d dealt with plenty of honorable people from the diplomatic service, which was to his benefit, because managing a pivotal location unlike anything the Terran Coalition had dealt with in its long history—or that humanity had ever experienced either—would need a delicate touch. That the station was the first joint base constructed by the Sagittarius Arm Treaty Organization would be yet another test.

The wormhole gateway was a glowing disc so big Mateo had to fan his fingers wide enough to cover it. As the transport decelerated toward the Sagittarius Arch, he touched the transparent bulkhead’s controls, selecting an aft view instead, granting an even better view of the shimmering lace of webbing that contained a black void.

“I can’t believe it’s here.” Esme took his hand. “Or that it exists. It’s something of a miracle, don’t you think?”

Mateo nodded. Logistical nightmare would have been a better choice of words. “It’s harder still to believe we’ve been through it once, as if it were no more trouble than engaging the Lawrence drive—a typical jump, for all we knew.”

“But we’re in another galaxy. It’s as far from home as we’ll ever get.”

“We being humanity.”

“We being you and me.” Esme gave his hand a squeeze. “You know what they say about God never giving us more than we can handle.”

Mateo snorted. “That’s twisted Scripture.”

“Oh, I know.” Esme winked him. “I wanted to remind you because this will be the most challenging, most dangerous part of our lives.”

“You don’t know how glad I am that you keep saying ‘we.’ I don’t think I could do this without you, whether you were still back in Coalition space or here beside me—and I prefer beside me.” Mateo raised her hand and kissed her knuckles.

“We’ve been given the chance to encounter a part of creation our people have never seen before,” Esme said. “There’s life out here no human has ever encountered. No Saurian or Matrinid either, for that matter.”

“I know. Your job is to tease out the secrets of those wonders, Esme.” Mateo switched views again to see the space station, which almost touched the edges of the viewport with its angled arms. “Mine is to keep everyone here and back at home safe from the dangers that lurk behind those secrets.”

“I know. But we’re in the Lord’s hands, Colonel. It’s the most secure place to be.”

“It is.” Mateo kept his fingers intertwined with Esme’s. He had no doubt what she’d said was true, but unease gnawed at him. Of all the astonishing, exotic things he’d encountered in the depths of space, his awe had been blunted by decades of war. That was why he valued Esme’s joy. He could feel it reawakening his.

Esme’s wrist unit chirped at her. The Keach’s communications network had passed her a new message, apparently. The similarly pitched beeps and chimes throughout the officers’ lounge told Mateo that others had received similar updates.

Mateo’s device sent a vibration into his arm. He glanced down at his screen.

New message: Chaperone.

He grimaced, then stole a sidelong glance at Esme. Her lips moved in silence as she read through whatever update she’d received from her posting. Good. A part of him, the faithful husband, didn’t like obscuring information from her, but both of them recognized that aspects of his command would include classified details.

Mateo touched the acknowledgment key. The message played out in gibberish, which remained unresolved until Mateo pressed his pinkie finger against a curved edge of the wrist unit that wasn’t typically functional on that model.

Glad you made the trip unhindered. Deck Twenty-Two, Section Sixteen, Water Recycling Conduit, 2210 hours AT.

Arch Time. He would get used to the abbreviation, but he wasn’t sure if he’d get used to making exceptions for his new contact. Though it was a necessary evil. Chaperone was a potential resource he could keep off the books if things got rough.

For the moment, he shot his Savior a silent prayer that he and the new contact would serve his new crew and the people they’d sworn to protect the best he could. Because he also had no doubt that enemies awaited.

Galaxy Bridge: Book 1 - Forward Command

Colonel Mateo Larra takes command of Joint Base Sagittarius Arch, and is immediately confronted with a unique set of trials. Smugglers, League of Sol spies, newly discovered alien species, and everything in between stands between him and accomplishing his objective: to keep the peace. When a hostile lifeform attacks the station, everything is on the line, and nothing is as it seems.

Tap HERE to read Now!

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Book 3 - So Fight I

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The Lost Warship

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Galaxy Bridge

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Book 1 - Forward Command

Book 2 - Forward Hunt

Book 3 - Forward Pact

Book 4 - Forward Crisis (COMING 2024)

Book 5 - Forward Raid (COMING 2024)

Book 6 - Forward Shield (COMING 2024)

Breach of Faith

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Book 1 - Breach of Peace

Book 2 - Breach of Faith

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

(Anthology Series)

Volume One

Acknowledgments

First, I’d like to thank all of my Kickstarter Backers for their support of The Lost Warship Phase II, and especially those at the COMSPACEFLT level:

Rene Van Hensbergen

Lewis Brande

Alexander Roth

Denis Deutsch

Author’s Note and Afterword

This… has been a year. I had thought back in January that perhaps 2023 was going to mark a different start. Little did I know that it would, but not quite in the way I’d hoped.

While there has been loss, pain and sorrow this year, there is also hope.

I thank all of you for continuing this journey with me, now through thirty-five novels.

And what a journey it’s been – five separate series, and the beginnings of an anthology series, ebooks, a couple of Kickstarters, and now audiobooks.

I remain humbled by the support shown, and how this has morphed.

But it’s not done by a long shot. If you’re reading this, you’ve hopefully already read the teaser for my next series, Galaxy Bridge – set in the Sextans B galaxy, as the CDF and SATO continue their attempts to win the peace.

That’s not all for 2024, either. I have 19 novels planned for release, all set within the Terran Diaspora universe.

So, I hope you will buckle up and join me on the next leg of the journey.

To my recently passed father, and every member of the US military in the past, present and future – a continued thanks for your service. It’s because of your sacrifice that I have the right to put down whatever I want in peace and freedom.

Godspeed to you all.

v/r

Daniel Gibbs

PS. One last thing – General David Cohen will return.