“Welcome, everyone.” Admiral Terrance Compton had been seated at the far end of the table, but he stood up as his guests filtered in. There was man wearing finely tailored civilian clothing sitting next to Compton. He stood also, but remained silent while Compton greeted the new arrivals. “Please, let’s dispense with the formalities. We have a lot to discuss, and I would like to get started. Have a seat…all of you.” He motioned to several empty chairs on opposite sides of the table. There were trays set out with cups and pitchers full of water.
Compton sat, letting out a small sigh as he did. “I know you have come from considerable distances at my request, and I apologize for the lack of hospitality.” He scanned the room, his eyes pausing for an instant on each of them. “When our business is done, I would be honored if you would all dine with me and allow me to make amends.”
“That is appreciated, Terrance, but hardly necessary.” Holm sat in the seat to Compton’s right, with Jax next to him and Erik and Sarah opposite, sitting next to the mysterious civilian. “You and I have had some time to discuss things, but if it is satisfactory with you, I’d like to start at the beginning for the benefit of our new arrivals.” Jax had been there two days, but he hadn’t been in on any discussions yet, and Erik and Sarah had literally come right from their shuttle.
“Yes, I think that is a good idea.” His head slanted a bit, an unnecessary but subconscious movement toward the small microphone on his collar. “Joker, I want this room sealed. Beta-5 protocols.”
“Understood, Admiral Compton.” The non-descript voice of the AI was audible to all of them, as Compton had intended. “The room is now secure and will remain so until you command otherwise.”
Compton cleared his throat and paused, as if considering where to begin. “General Cain, Colonel Jax, Colonel Linden…I want to thank all of you for coming, especially since the request was a personal one and not official.”
Everyone present nodded, but they all remained silent, allowing Compton to continue. “First, I’d like to introduce Roderick Vance. Mr. Vance is a major industrialist in the Martian Confederation, and he has been sent here as a liaison of sorts.” He looked out at the confused expressions and hesitated. “I will explain exactly what he…”
“I will vouch for Mr. Vance.” Holm interrupted, his voice commanding. He was telling Jax and Erik to trust him and not raise any issues, and both of them understood.
Compton glanced at Jax and Cain and flashed a grateful look toward Holm. “As many of you are aware, there has been considerable friction between the central government of the Alliance and its colonies.” That is an understatement of considerable proportions, he thought. “Many things have happened over the last six months, things of which you are likely only partially aware.” His hands slid over the large ‘pad on the table in front of him. The viewscreens along the side walls of the room activated, showing video – a slideshow of different scenes.
“I am afraid that open rebellion had broken out on a number of Alliance colony worlds.” Compton hesitated, allowing everyone to look at the images on the monitors, scenes of protests, combat, burned out buildings. “Things on Columbia are quite bad. I have less information on other worlds, but everything I hear suggests the situations are similar on a number of other planets.”
“Arcadia is blockaded.” Cain blurted out what he was thinking. He’d never been accused of an excess of patience. “Sorry to interrupt, admiral. But I assumed you would know about that. There is a large naval task force enforcing the quarantine.”
“No apologies necessary, general. This is an informal meeting.” Then, addressing Cain’s point: “There is no authorized naval presence in the Wolf 359 system.” He looked right at Cain. “Are you sure they were navy ships and not just some security force?”
“Admiral, there were two of these monsters there.” He waved his hands, indicating he was referring to the Bunker Hill. “Plus a huge supporting fleet. That was no patrol force.”
Compton was silent for a moment, his face becoming even more troubled. “I cannot account for that, general. I have a basic awareness were all active duty naval forces are deployed, and I cannot explain what you saw.”
Holm slowly let out a deep breath. “Why don’t you continue on the overall situation, Terrance, and get everyone up to speed.” He glanced at Erik then back to Compton. “We can revisit this later.”
“Very well, Elias.” Compton leaned back in his chair. “Let me review some backstory on how this fleet came to be stationed here.” He hesitated again, looking at Vance, then Holm, then the others. “I just want to say first, though, that I intend to speak very freely.” He glanced again at Holm, seeing the general nodding for him to continue. “Some of what is discussed here today may put each of you in a…ah…an uncomfortable position with regard to your duty and obligation to the service.” He paused again. This was difficult, unlike anything he had faced in his career. “I’m afraid we all may have some complex choices ahead of us.”
“It’s OK, Terrance.” Holm spoke softly, his voice somber. “I trust these three with my life. You can tell them anything.”
Compton nodded and, after a brief pause, continued. “For a considerable amount of time – perhaps a year now – I have been receiving directives and orders from the Naval Director that seemed…odd…unexpected.” He could see them all considering what he was saying. Augustus Garret was the Naval Director, and no one could imagine him doing anything that would concern Compton.
“It was limited to relatively unimportant things at first, like personnel reassignments. I noticed several that I couldn’t imagine had been Augustus’ idea, but I just wrote them off, figured he was playing the Washbalt game a little. Garret put a lot of effort into making sure the naval veterans were mustered out the right way and not cheated like they were after the Second Frontier War. I just figured he’d made some petty political deals, agreed to promote a few cronies in return for the support he needed.” He paused, stifling a sarcastic chuckle. “I didn’t like it, but I figured no one hates this crap more than Garret, so if he went along with it, there had to be a reason.”
He reached out, grabbing his cup. “But it got worse. There were new suspect orders, and they were even more worrisome. Personnel assignments that really mattered, ones that affected operational efficiency. Changes in regulations, including covert surveillance of crew members. Crazy stuff, and completely unlike the Garret I know.”
“That sounds like the kind of nonsense they inflicted on us with the political officers.” Cain’s voice was derisive, bitter. He’d done very poorly managing his political officer, and that was at least partly to blame for the trajectory of his career since. “Sounds like they’re looking to do the same thing to the navy.”
“I think you are correct, general. The intent is clearly to assert greater control over the navy.” He took a sip from the cup. “Still, that does not explain Garret’s role. He would be as hostile to such an encroachment as you.” He was shaking his head as he spoke.
“Then I was ordered here.” He panned his head around the table. Every eye was focused on him. “Worse, I am under orders to provide any support the Planetary Governor requests.” He sucked in a deep breath. “Any support…without limitation.”
No one interrupted, but a murmur of surprise rippled around the room. “We don’t have a Marine strikeforce attached, so there are only two reasons for a battlefleet to be sent here. One, to intimidate the population, to terrorize the rebels and sap their will to fight.” He took another drink and set down the cup. “Or two, even worse, to actually bombard planetary targets.” His voice was soft and grim, and he let his words sink in before continuing.