Title: Reformation: Chapter Twenty-Three
***
Chapter Twenty-Three
Raymond Alexander was…vexed. He stared at the hologram of
Commander Orwell, who looked decidedly uncomfortable, and waited for the man to
begin to sweat before he started speaking. “You’ve had nine standard days to
break through Pandora’s shields. Nine. Days.”
“Yes, sir.”
“When I require a comment from you, Commander, I’ll ask you
for one,” Raymond snapped. “But as you’re so eager to talk, maybe you can
explain to me how a colony of that size can withstand the firepower your ships
are bringing to bear on it?”
“Their energy shields are more complex than we initially
thought,” Orwell admitted. “And they seem to be bolstering them somehow. The
shields are getting smaller—we’ve decimated the outer edges of the city—but
they aren’t losing any of their power where they’re in place.”
“Why haven’t you extrapolated from that to figure out how
much more of your bombardment is required to completely reduce them and given
it to them?”
Commander Orwell frowned. “Two reasons. The first is that a
hurricane has been pounding the region for the past three days, big enough that
it seriously negates the effects of our plasma weapons. The second is that we
haven’t had the opportunity to refuel and resupply our ships since we began the
offensive. To put it bluntly, sir, we’re running out of firepower. With the
Academy’s fleet soon to arrive, it makes sense to save some of our reserves for
fighting them.”
Raymond repressed the urge to sigh. “You are an elite
fighting force with more than double the number of ships heading your way, all
of them crewed by little better than children, and you’re worried about
destroying them? Are you the same man who helmed the Relentless for seven years? Because that man was bold—he was a man
of action, not a frightened miser.”
It was small motion, the tightening around the corners of
Orwell’s mouth, but Raymond noticed it anyway. “I haven’t survived so long out
here in the black doing your will without keeping a sense of caution. If I’d
had accurate information about the shield status over Pandora City, I would
have deployed my forces differently. As it stands, whether or not the
Federation ships are adequately crewed, I assume their commanders aren’t useless.
They’re going to know how to use their weapons, and we need to be able to
protect ourselves and respond in kind.”
“The man leading them is only a marine general. He has no
experience commanding a fleet. This really shouldn’t be very hard.”
This time Orwell let his disbelief show openly on his face.
If he’d been in the room, Raymond would have slapped him. “Miles Caractacus was
the governor of a Federation planet after spending decades in command of the Federation marine corps. He might not
have commanded the ships his troops rode in on, but he has ample experience in
both space and ground combat. If you really think otherwise, then I suggest you
read up on your history.”
“I suggest you mind your words,” Raymond replied, but
internally he could acknowledge the truth of the accusation. Miles had been an
incredibly convenient choice politically, and Raymond was still confident that
the black fleet’s numbers and firepower would overwhelm the Federation ships,
but that Miles was an untested leader in the field…no. “What’s your plan, then?
Given that you don’t have time to make a refueling run.”
Orwell shrugged. “We’ll ease off Pandora for the time being.
We could send in ground troops to get around the energy field, but there’s no
telling what they might be walking into, and my people aren’t accustomed to
those sorts of operations. Better to wait until we’ve handled the fleet. Once
they’re destroyed, we’ll scour the wreckage for parts and fuel and then take
the fight to the surface. We’ve scoured the coast for any sort of external
defenses and taken them out, so we’ll set down just outside the city and
prepare for an incursion. The Federation ships should be here within the next
four to five days, and I don’t anticipate the battle lasting more than one. We’ll
be on the ground and moving into the city by the end of the week.”
“Good.” Orwell might be disrespectful, but he was efficient
when it came to getting things done. All the same, Raymond wouldn’t be sorry to
see him removed. His second in command, Captain Abenabad, was standing by to
take control once the destruction of Pandora was complete. It was time for new
blood to lead, and Abenabad was more loyal to Raymond than he was to Orwell. He’d
better be, if he wanted to keep the status quo with his family going. “Contact
me again after you’ve taken care of the fleet and before the ground offensive.”
“Understood. Orwell out.” The link ended, and Raymond
indulged himself in a deep sigh. It wasn’t a flaw in his plan, exactly, more
like a little wrinkle that he couldn’t smooth out that disturbed the perfection
of it in his mind. It was a cup he couldn’t balance, sending the perfect spin
of his political mobile slightly awry. But then, such things happened. He could
acknowledge his own imperfections. Look at what had happened with Kyle.
He’d gone about turning the boy into the right thing the wrong
way. Raymond had never had a chance like that young, trusting child before, and
he never would again. How people could stand to give their offspring the
liberty of their own choices…he just didn’t understand it. You gave them
everything, tried to mold them in your image, and then they ripped your heart
out and betrayed you, over and over again. Raymond still wasn’t sure what he himself
had done to make his father lose interest in him, but it must have been painful.
And look at how that had come back to
haunt the man.
It was at times like this that Raymond wished he still had
something of a relationship with his sister. Berengaria was the only family
member he had left—by choice, he reminded himself, it had all been by his own
choice—and she refused to see him, just stayed locked in her floating palace,
hidden away from the universe. Perhaps she had it right. The luxury of being
able to turn a blind eye was…shockingly appealing.
But that wasn’t his fate. No one else had the will and the
power to move the Federation in the right direction—a direction of
consolidation, of coming together, of cutting away the excess to pare down to
the heart of what made humanity great. After centuries, millennia, of fighting
to rise to the pinnacle of what was possible, it was clear that the only way to
do it was to boldly, and without apology, get rid of the people who threatened
to tear civilization back down. How was it even possible that there were still
people born who couldn’t handle Regen? How were there people who thought there
was something guiding them across the universe, some theistic deity, rather
than taking responsibility for their own fates? How could people expect not to
have to strive for greatness, and instead content themselves with living on the
fringes of society, atypical, nonstandard, and shameful? And the aliens, the aliens—what was there to learn from
them? What could they do but dilute humanity’s grand vision for itself?
The call to action was greater now than it had ever been
before. Raymond had felt the pull, and answered it in his youth. Soon, he would
wipe the slate clean. The Federation would start fresh, a central, powerful
force that controlled its own reach, only moving as one, never in bits and
pieces. No fringe planets, no Drifters—those would be the next to go—strict policies
on birth and health and death, and no contact with aliens other than getting
them out of the way. It would be perfect. He was leading his species into perfection.
Nothing worth achieving was easy. He would take the bumps
and the lumps and emerge victorious in the end.
His comm beeped, and Raymond read the incoming message with
a sense of gratification. Ah, lovely. His spies had found the location of
Claudia Caractacus and her daughters. Raymond might have missed out on his
chance to control Garrett via his husband or son—regrettable, but it was what
it was—but his stepmother and sisters would make a serviceable lever in the
meantime.
Shall we bring them
in?
Please do.
Cliffhanger, my old nemesis.
ReplyDeleteI guess I just have to wait and see what happens. And not to die of expectation in the meantime.
The constant changing of people and points of view is a little distracting at times but also I like it how it gives the reader a better picture of the whole. The characters seem to be evolving and have their own motives for doing stuff, however evil they are, I am looking at Raymond here.
Don't die, darlin'!
DeleteAnd I know the format is a little confusing, but that was the only way to tell this particular entry in the larger story. It'll be worth it!
Nooooooo! I'm hoping that it will all end well even if it takes a long time to get there, but am also suspecting casualties along the way.
ReplyDeleteLaura
All will end well, I'm not a savage...although. Well is relative.
DeleteHang tight, Laura, it's going to be exciting!
oh wow! don't hurt claudia and the kids please. I've had enough people die this week ;(
ReplyDeleteAw babe, don't let it worry you too much. *wink nod hint hint hint*
Delete