Beyond Mars Crimson Fleet (21 page)

“You have proven many times in the past that you
have the ability and the courage to do the impossible. As an
example, you were the one to come up with that crazy scheme to
attack that Earth base—and then volunteered to do it. If we had
tried a direct assault, we might have suffered many more losses in
lives and ships than we could afford. It all might have ended right
there.”

Again Paladin paused.

“Although commanding a ship never places an officer
at the top of any popularity list, your crew trusts and respects
you. You, in turn, make them proud of their ship and themselves.
With you in command, your crew believes they can achieve anything,
no matter what the odds—and isn’t that what leadership is all
about?” the fleet commander finished.

Paladin then turned on his
communicator. “Mister Winslow?” he called.

“Yes, Commander?” Winslow
replied.

“Mister Winslow, have all
commands been notified of Deputy Fleet Commander Wakinyan’s
promotion?” quizzed Paladin.

“Aye, Sir. They have,”
Winslow reported.

“Thank you, Mister
Winslow.” Paladin then shut off his communicator. “Well, there it
is, Lieutenant Commander Wakinyan. You’ll be getting a new ship
shortly. In the meantime, you are now my 2IC, my Second-in-Command,
and you better get use to it.”

But Richard was still
doubtful. “Sir, commanding a ship is one thing, commanding the
fleet is another. I also think that this will not sit too kindly
with some of the more senior officers.”

“It doesn’t matter, the
deed is done. You’re going to have to win their respect, Deputy
Commander. Prove to them that you’re fit to lead—as well as to
yourself.”

Paladin offered his hand to
Richard. The two men then shook hands.

“Thank you, Sir. I’ll try
to live up to your expectations,” Wakinyan said
honestly.

Paladin smiled, “I think
you will.” But a sudden change in his face muscles conveyed a
poignant expression along with solid stare of dejection. “I also
think you’ll curse me before this is all over with!” he stated with
a certainty.

Richard became perplexed at
such an outrageous and unexpected remark.

“To hold this rank,
requires you to make decisions that will not only hurt the
enemy—but also your own. And there will come a time when the
situation will be absolutely so bleak that every eye will turn to
you out of fear and desperation. In that moment, you’ll have to
become like the steel of your ship—and make the hardest choices of
your life. Because if you don’t, there will be no one is else to do
it for you. And you will always be alone in this,” Paladin softly,
but seriously spoke in his electronic voice. “You will always be
alone.”

There was a long pause, as
the words sunk deeply into Richard’s psyche with a solemn
despondency, for he preferred being a free spirit with his own ship
and not chained to the responsibility of the many lives that were
encompassed within the entire fleet. It was the reason why he
deliberately twice threw away his promotion as squadron leader. And
the more he thought on it, the more he did not want this at all.
The ramifications to just one misjudgment, just one miscalculation,
were too great. And it not only had the potential of a disastrous
outcome, but also literally determined who lived—and who
died.

The old man recognized and
understood this somber heaviness in Wakinyan’s eyes that he had
just brought upon him, but the developing situation dictated
Paladin’s resolution. He needed Wakinyan desperately. Yet, the old
officer saw the younger man as akin to a son and very much
regretted the pain he had just caused him.

However, it was time to
move forward, and Paladin broke the silence between them. “And now,
Deputy Commander Wakinyan, we have some other things to talk about,
along with a new and imperative mission for you and your ship.
There are things you now need to know. The danger to our fleet is
not decreasing, but growing with each passing second—and I fear an
inescapable conclusion.”

Wakinyan shook himself from
his funk as he digested the words carefully. His apprehension then
faded into the soul and fortitude of a hardened warrior who
accepted any challenge. “Then let’s do something about it, Sir!”
Richard became adamant in facing the threat.

The two officers then sat
down and began a serious and candid discussion on the fate of the
fleet.

* * * * *

Chapter 12: The First
Causality of War

The familiar and beautiful face of Kiera
Shaw, anchorwomen, filled the airwaves of the Earth’s Galactic News
Service. She was the most respected in the broadcast industry along
with having the largest following of all the commentators. For this
reason, the lovely blonde was chosen to break the news of “Martians
in rebellion” to the length and breathe of human interplanetary
habitation. Through hyperspace satellite relays, her voice and
image touched over a hundred distant and far-flung worlds with the
Earth’s news—and propaganda.

“Hello, I’m Kiera Shaw,” the lovely blonde again
announced herself as she was seated at her familiar anchor desk.
“As the news of the Martian rebellion spreads throughout Earth and
all her colonies, the outrage over the unimaginable slaughter of
innocent lives continues to grow.”

Suddenly behind the woman, a blue screen changed to
a street scene with vehicles burning and a mob beating several
people severely. The victims’ clothes were ripped and torn,
exposing parts of their bodies that visually displayed nasty
bruises and bloody wounds. However, police soon arrived, pouring
out of their vehicles and forming a line of plastic body shields
and clubs. The police fired several teargas canisters into the
crowd and then charged in swinging their batons, but still they
were unable to break up the frenzied crowd as the outraged rioters
fought back with ferocity.

Kiera proceeded with her report. “In many
cities, gangs of vigilantes seeking justice for the loss of loved
ones on the doomed planet have attacked people and businesses with
ties to the Martians. Police have been hard pressed in maintaining
order, and have either placed Martian sympathizers into protective
custody or detained them for questioning by the military.”

The camera then came in for a close-up of
Kiera’s face. “The military has gone to full alert and is calling
up all of its reserves. Rumors of covert alien assistance and
traitors within the government abound. According to sources, there
is sufficient proof that the Martians have not acted alone.
However, to what extent is still largely—unknown,” she spoke with
her media authority.

Kiera suddenly paused and
looked at her teleprompter. “Wait! Chairman Quinton is holding an
emergency press conference, now in progress! We’re going to switch
directly to it, live!” she blurted out excitedly.

The camera view was quickly switched to the
conference room with the unmistakable figure of Armon Quinton
standing at a podium bearing the council seal. A large gathering of
reporters stood before him shouting questions. However, he raised
his hands in an appeal to silence them.

The face of Armon Quinton
was filled anger and indignation. The man tensed his face muscles
as he glanced around the room before speaking again to ensure that
he would not be interrupted.

“Final communications of
the massacre in progress were received by one of our main battle
fleets enroute to Mars. The slaughter was deliberately planned,
executed with cold-blooded calculation, and with total disregard
for human life!” he spoke angrily. “There were no survivors! Mars
itself was left a burning cinder in space, lit by the fires of
nuclear weapons!” Quinton emotionally explained.

Quinton then turned his head and nodded to some
unseen person off stage. The camera view then switched to a current
video of Mars. Burning fissures of lava ruptured the Martian
surface, as its four massive volcanoes continued to erupt in fiery
explosions, ash, and smoke.

With this image of a planet dying, Quinton delivered
his speech with all the emotion his acting ability could muster.
“This kind of treachery is beyond tolerance and understanding!
People of Earth, I make you this pledge; the Martian murders shall
be brought to justice! Every human hand is now turned against
them—and there will be no place in this universe for them to
hide!”

However, Quinton’s parting words and hand gestures
came in the sharpest and most heightened emotions of all. “THIS
MASSACRE WILL BE AVENGED!” he shouted with near hysteria while
thumping his fist on his pulpit. “AND EVERY TRAITOR WHO HAS HELPED
THEM WILL BE FOUND AND PUNISHED FOR THIS!”

As Mars burned, the video faded to blackness.

* * * * *

Lieutenant Randall finally was able to break away from his
duties to greet Wakinyan who had been aboard the
Crazy
Horse
for less than an hour. As Randall approached
Wakinyan’s cabin, he found the hatch ominously opened. He peered
through and saw Wakinyan putting on his moccasin boots again and
carefully lacing them up.

Hesitantly, Randall
entered.

“Congratulations, Rich. It was long overdue,” the
lieutenant tried to sound upbeat.

Wakinyan, however, only looked up for a moment, but
then went back to tying his boots. “Thanks, Jim,” Richard’s face
was distraught while his voice spoke in a soft monotone. “It seems
a little quiet throughout the ship. I assume the crew has seen the
broadcast?”

Randall pouted, “They have—and they’re shocked. I
also think a little scared too,” the man admitted. “I had all
viewers switched off and put everyone to work. I thought it was the
best thing to do. I didn’t want them thinking about it. What about
the rest of the fleet?”

Wakinyan grabbed for his sheathed knife and began
fastening it to his right calf. “The same. It’s spreading faster
than a comet. I guess it’s hard for anyone to imagine that Mars is
really gone.”

Randall just stared at the knife on Wakinyan’s leg.
“I take it we have another combat mission?” he inquired.

Wakinyan looked up with dispassionate eyes. “Yes, we
do. Has the ship been re-armed?”

“Almost,” Randall replied. “We’re still
taking on ordnance and supplies. Repairs seem to be unending
though, but we’re doing the best we can.”

Wakinyan finished and then stood up. “Good.
We try to complete all necessary repairs enroute. Let’s get up to
the bridge.”

“Aye, Sir,” Randall acknowledged, filled with a
foreboding feeling.

The two officers casually made their way to the
bridge of the ship. Not a single word was uttered between the two,
however. Randall just licked his lips nervously as he occasionally
glanced at his friend as they walked together. By Wakinyan’s
behavior, however, he knew the situation was really bad—and it
frightened him.

As the two entered the bridge, Wakinyan
paced to his command chair and then sat down. Carefully, the
officer studied every face that turned to him. Jim’s assessment was
right, all their faces bore the telltale signs of fear and
uncertainty.

Wakinyan
reflected on this for a short time. The information that Paladin
conferred about the mission indicated that the crew
Crazy Horse
would be
pushed to their limit. He realized that he needed to do something
to boost their morale, or else they simply might give up. And so,
his hand triggered a switch that turned on the ship’s PA
system.

“To all
crewmen of the
Crazy
Horse
, marines, and civilian medical
team personnel; this is Deputy Fleet Commander Richard Wakinyan
speaking,” Richard addressed the ship’s
compliment.

“As you have undoubtedly heard, Mars has been
totally destroyed. It is apparent, our home world was bombarded
with nuclear and plasma weapons that obliterated all life on
it.”

Everyone began to stare at the ship’s
speakers as if it was Wakinyan himself. They hungered for answers
amidst the grief of loss of family and friends left behind. The
shock over the death of Mars was more than most could handle and
they reached out emotionally to Wakinyan to anchor them. Even
Rhianna, whose her life had been spared due to a routine visit to
the fleet’s medical ship, took time out from her clean-up duties
and stopped to listen.

Wakinyan
spoke on. “
The
Order
has charged the Martian fleet
with this horrendous crime, regardless of the fact that we have no
such weapon’s capability. The reasons are quite obvious; they are
willing to commit to anything—including mass murder to maintain
their domination over every human being alive. And this time—we are
their scapegoats.”

Richard paused momentarily to arrange his
thoughts.

His voice
then rose again. “So it is with all tyrants who abuse the lives of
the people they are entrusted with by the perverse dictates that
they, themselves, would never live by. And they feel justified in
this by their own self-righteous
elite
morality, which sets them high
above everyone else in their own minds.”

Wakinyan looked at the faces around him. “You and I,
however, are made of quite different stuff. Our words are filled
with our true beliefs and backed by the honesty of our actions. We
take great pride in not only who we are—but overcoming the struggle
it took to make us this way. We are men and women of
character—principles—and courage! And because of that, we are
duty-bound.”