The Clone Redemption

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

During their stints as commander in chief, Steven Jolly and Curtis Liotta had given orders, but they never really took charge. They were apprehensive leaders, too fainthearted to issue orders and face the consequences. Once Jim Holman ascended to admiral, he took charge.

Watching him conduct this meeting, I realized just how much I liked Holman’s style. There was nothing imperial in his demeanor. He cared about his men, but he also made the tough decisions when he needed to. Seeing him speak, I realized that the empire was finally in capable hands now that its highest-ranking officers were out of the way.

Holman began his command by calling his captains together. He did not use a confabulator for the meeting. This was no remote conference with people popping in from all over the galaxy. Nor was it a lavish summit for fleet commanders only.

The captains of every destroyer, dreadnaught, battleship, and carrier sat in the audience. So did every regiment commander from the Marines. I sat beside the commanders of the thirteen fleets on the dais, watching them try to look comfortable though they had no idea why Holman had called the assembly.

Most of the commanders I had known during my career took charge slowly, giving their officers time to gossip and spread rumors. Given the opportunity, fear will work its way through fleets like a virus, infecting every sailor and Marine. Holman did not wait for that to happen. Now that he ran the show, he took charge.

Before the rumors spread, he called his men together. He did not mince words. Instead of starting with standard-issue apologies and promises, he began the meeting by saying, “Let me explain the situation. We have evacuated the populations of Gobi, Bangalore, and Nebraska Kri to Providence Kri. In all, there are now twenty million people on Providence Kri. We now need to move them off the planet.

“From what we can tell, the aliens will burn Providence Kri sometime within the next eight days. That gives us eight days to move twenty million refugees and gather as many supplies as we can.”

There were fourteen of us sitting on the dais—thirteen fleet commanders and me. We sat in simple chairs with straight backs and hard seats. Holman stood at a podium about twenty feet in front of us, wearing the proud white dress uniform of the Unified Authority Navy. (It had only been a year since we had declared independence, and new uniforms were not a priority.) Mostly, from where I sat, he was a silhouette. The bright lights in the ceiling above the audience pointed back on him, their crystal white glare both blinding and bleaching. For us at the back of the dais, the gallery below the stage and the lights was a sea of black, as silent as it was dark.

“It’s not just a question of evacuating Providence Kri. New Carillon, Uchtdorf, and St. Augustine will all be burned within the next seven days. The next week will be a nonstop rescue operation.” Here Holman laid his cards out on the table, spelling out the size and scope of the operation so that every man in the room could understand. “By this time next week, we will have transported thirty-two million people to a new planet. Know this, gentlemen. Anyone we miss will die.”

The officers respected Holman. They did not whisper among themselves as he spoke.

“Our only chance of survival is to establish a colony on a planet that the aliens have already attacked. I’m not going to lie to you. It’s not going to be easy. Scientists have run tests on the air, water, and soil. The air is breathable but thin. We will take oxygen generators. The water is polluted, but not so badly polluted that it cannot be filtered. We will need to dig a few feet down to plant crops. These are obstacles we can overcome.”

A soft rumble rose from the audience. Holman ignored it. He stood behind the podium, short and slender, with the glare of the lights making his red hair and beard look like they were on fire. He might have been a clone, but he was an instantly recognizable one.

He told the audience, “We are going to colonize Terraneau.”

That shut everybody down. They all knew the planet. Terraneau had been the capital of the Scutum-Crux Arm, the outermost arm of the Milky Way. We had all been raised to judge places by their position relative to Earth. Terraneau was just about as far as you could get from Earth without leaving the galaxy.

“As many of you know, the Unified Authority patrols that area. Our barges will be vulnerable.” Holman stood silent for several seconds. When he began speaking again, he changed his train of thought.

“The Navy has asked a lot of you over the last month, and you have delivered. Now I’m going to ask even more of you than ever. Some of you will be asked to make the ultimate sacrifice. In order for this plan to work, we will need to draw the U.A. Fleet away from Providence Kri and Terraneau. That means opening a front that will draw the Unified Authority’s forces away. We are going to invade Earth.”

Down in the darkness, a single voice shouted, “Hell, yeah!” The entire room went silent for a moment, then burst into laughter and applause. Holman made no attempt to stop the applause. He let it run its course.

“We’ve run a recon mission to evaluate the Unified Authority’s military strength. We sent a spy ship into Earth space and found fewer than sixty capital ships patrolling the lanes. They detected our anomaly, and seven more ships broadcasted in. As far as we can tell, that is their entire fleet, sixty-five capital ships.

“It is entirely possible they have a few additional ships in reserve. They may have as many as eighty ships, but we have seen most of what they have.”

A possibility of eighty ships …Fifteen hundred men sat in the audience, each representing a capital ship in the Enlisted Man’s Navy. We had seventy-seven fighter carriers and 229 battleships. Maybe they sank our ships when they caught our stragglers, but they would never survive an all-out assault. Their ships would not last long outnumbered seventy-seven to one. Our numbers would be overwhelming …at least they would be overwhelming in space.

“We’re going to send a ground force as well as a naval attack,” Holman said. “Crippling their navy will not be enough for us to achieve our objectives. We need to uproot the Unified Authority government and all. We need to occupy Earth.”

Everyone in the room knew what that meant—we would send our Marines to fight their soldiers and Marines. At last count, we had three million fighting men. We’d have the numbers and the superior firepower. They’d have shielded armor that would neutralize our firepower and render our numerical advantage meaningless.

Forty-five minutes, I reminded myself. The batteries that powered their shields would only last forty-five minutes. If we survived the first hour …If …

“Win or lose, there will be no returning from Earth. The Unified Authority has a temporary broadcast station near Mars. We believe they will destroy the station at the first sign of an invasion. Before I assign men to the invasion, I am going to ask for volunteers.”

The enthusiasm vanished. No one spoke as the electricity drained from the air.

“We’re going to reserve one-third of our fleet to escort our barges, the rest of you will be assigned to the invasion. Any captain who wishes to enlist his ship in the invasion, please stand.”

The blinding lights rolled from Holman and down to the audience. My eyes were tired from the glare, and the druginduced drumming in my head made it difficult to concentrate; but when the lights shone on the gallery, it looked like every man was on his feet.