| |
—-
I RANG MY FATHER EARLY and reached only his secretary. As a freshly graduated Cadet leader, I had some special privileges, especially being the son of the Admiral. I walked into his office as a disgruntled looking councilor stormed out. I glanced after him and then glanced at my father. “I take it he didn’t like the coffee this morning, sir?”
Artillion sighed and shook his head. “That was councilor Wingell. He’s unaligned with any party, and he’s making some fairly outrageous claims...it’s upsetting the council, with whom, I must add, we have a meeting presently.”
My father was a member of the ruling council of thirteen that governed our world. He was amongst the highest members, with a woman named Advridia, a three hundred fifty-year-old Vandorian, who was as mean as she was hardened, as the overall leader of our world.
We walked into the council chamber from my father’s office, and I immediately made for the center of the chamber and stood at attention.
“Stand at ease.” My father called and looked me over. “May I introduce,” He said, addressing the council. “Cadet Leader, Destota Valentine, my youngest son.”
I nodded. “Sirs, Madams.”
“You may speak frankly, Cadet Leader.” Someone said. It was councilor Advridia Wingell. Shorter, paler skinned than the other Vandorians. Something in me automatically disliked her. “We certainly will.”
“Forgive my ignorance, councilors.” I said. “I went to visit my father this morning in regard to a mere rumor I heard last evening over a potential training exercise.”
“You were not there to engage your father on the matter for which we are meeting?” Another councilor asked me, her voice a booming tenor across the ancient stone chamber.
“No, ma’am.” I answered promptly. “I’m afraid that I am in ignorance.”
“There is an active action call that we have just placed into effect, Cadet leader.” She said. “As of 0200 this morning, we have activated the Navy, Army and as of...” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “Now, your unit is now being activated to deploy.”
I snapped to attention. “Ma’am, yes ma’am.” It was the call we’d been waiting on for more than five years. We’d been training for it. We’d all come to love it. However, I spoke again. “With one exception, ma’am...our unit presently lacks a designation.” I raised an eyebrow. “I apologize; however, I cannot lead a nameless unit into combat.”
The councilor smiled. She looked positively ancient, wrinkled skin and grey of hair. She must have been six or seven hundred years old. “Yes, of course, Cadet leader.” Her green eyes twinkled in the dimness of the chamber. “We are given to understand that you are the ancestor of Madaline Valentine, the patriot that lead our people off Earth?”
“That is correct, councilor.” I was certain everyone on the damned planet knew that, but it was not my place to get too seriously of an attitude. The councilor turned to my father.
“Was she not an American, Admiral Valentine?”
“Correct.” He replied, with a smile. It became obvious to me that this was mostly for show, they had already designated my unit and had even named its leader.
“Ah, excellent then.” She turned back to me. “Cadet Valentine,” She grinned. “Are you prepared to lead these men and women?”
“Sir.” I said, slipping back into military proper terms. “Yes sir. I have trained with them for the last five years. They are excellent soldiers.”
Advridia spoke again. “Cadet Leader, you are hereby appointed as Battalion Commander of the 160th Special Operations Regiment.”
I stared at her blankly. Technically, the 160th was formerly an aviation unit on Earth, tasked with fighting the enemies of the United States of America in any situation that may be required. We had just over two thousand, far more than a standard Special Forces unit. But then again, these were indeed dangerous times. “Sirs, may I expect that we will adopt the unit nickname as well?”
She smiled again. “That is correct, you will be known as the Night Stalkers.” Then her smile faded, and she rose from her chair. An aide approached me from the left, walked in perfect parade march and faced me. He executed a slow salute, which I returned from my own position of attention. “Cadet leader Valentine. You are hereby promoted to the rank of Colonel, with the responsibilities of leading your people into combat against our enemies.”
The aide finished his salute, raised the Colonel rank to my shoulder, pinned it, and then pinned the Night Stalker unit emblem, a shield with a centaur hurling a lightning bolt, struck in blue and silver on my black uniform. He saluted once more, then pivoted on his heel and marched away. The council chamber erupted in thunderous applause and I nodded once in acceptance of my responsibility.
The applause lasted only a long moment, then the councilors settled into their seats and looked to my father, who rose and exhaled sharply. “Yesterday, our outer patrol intercepted a Phelbian ship inbound for our system. We captured the occupants, four soldiers aboard. We have yet to extract any information from them.”
This knocked me completely flat. I lost my composure for a moment and blinked rapidly. “Sir?” I asked. “Would you like me to interrogate them, sir?” I asked. Prisoner interrogation was required teaching during training, but it was mostly theoretical. Until now, no Phelb had ever surrendered to us, let alone four of them.
“We have attempted that with very little success, unfortunately. We have, however, uncovered their mission.”
“A scouting mission, sir?” I asked, knowing I had the look in my eye that Mallory would describe as hungry for knowledge.
“Oddly enough, no. They claim to be under a peaceful mission to open negotiations.”
“Is that really so hard to believe?” Councilor Wingell asked. “Is peace not always an option?”
“Begging your pardon,” I said to Wingell. His words in favor of a people who had been trying to wipe us out for most of our existence was extremely annoying. “For six thousand years we have waged unceasing war against these fanatics, and it is expected that we would suddenly decide to stop because they ask nicely?” My father chuckled, as did several members of the council. “Forgive me if my history is wrong, but we have attempted ceasefires and even leaving our home system to try and end this war, and they have always restarted it. Why should we believe that now?”
All eyes turned on Wingell, who turned bright red all the way to his collar. That was interesting. For the most part, our diverged genetics prevented such shows of anger. I stood at parade rest and stared at him for a long moment until he replied. “Your attitude is duly noted, Colonel.” He snapped back. “Peace must always be an option in our arsenal.”
“Colonel Valentine,” The ancient female councilor who had spoken to me earlier said. “We would like to introduce you to Peter Stevins, of the Phelb Empire.”
The monitor on the wall flickered to life and showed a real time display of a young man, looking beaten, huddled in the corner of a detention cell. “We captured him, along with three others on a Phelb ship that violated our space.”
“Was it completely necessary to assault him in this way?” I asked, glancing at Wingell. “He is smallish for a human, is he not?”
“We,” My father interrupted, forestalling a scathing remark from Wingell. “Did not do this to him. We found him like this, with the other members of his crew incapacitated by lack of oxygen.”
I nodded once. “What are your orders, sir?”
“We’d like you to go and find out why his companions assaulted him.” Wingell said sharply. “That had to have been a ruse.”
I glanced at my father, his expression was unreadable, but I recognized the look in his eyes. Wingell felt that this prisoner was a threat to him. I didn’t understand why that would be, but I nodded.
“Very well.”
—-
