Battle Group Epsilon

Chapter 28

Chapter 28

May 2 2184, 10:10 Hours (Standard Solar Time)
Aboard USNI Destroyer Thermopylae En Route Saturn System

Sheffield stood on the bridge of his ship. He paced down the string of computer terminals and junior officers that lined the wall. He stopped at each one and spoke to whoever was manning it for a few moments before moving on. It had been a difficult last couple of days and he wanted make sure everyone was as well as could be expected.
For the first two days after the Battle for Earth, his battle group had been harassed every inch of the way. A few ships were so badly damaged that they had to be abandoned along the way. There was no hope for them to make it. Others however had been lost because of their pursuers. The Cerberus had been swarmed by enemy fighters the first day. The next day the Marathon had been hit. Sheffield whispered a prayer for the crew of that destroyer. She had been hit hard but not destroyed. The Captain had sent Sheffield an encrypted message to get everyone away from the Marathon at best speed. Fifteen minutes later Sheffield had squinted at the flash of a Fusion Nuclear explosion to their rear. All USNI ships' reactors were located outside of the main vessel. This was to protect the crew should there be a radiation leak or a meltdown. The Marathon's Captain had self detonated all four of the ship's reactors; they hadn't stood a chance and that's precisely what he'd intended.
The explosion had taken care of any Fist of Jupiter ships that had been trailing them. They had not made contact with the enemy in over 48 hours. Sheffield was still weary nonetheless. Every burp that the spectrometer picked up made his hair stand on end.
That was not the worst of it though. Beside the fact that their were just a handful of combat ready ships among them, they were running low on supplies. Food was dwindling, munitions were low and moral was lower. Their ships had just enough fuel to reach Titan. And then what? Sheffield prayed again. This time he prayed that McDermott had not inadvertently doomed the fleet.

Sheffield came up to Lieutenant Hall. He put his hand on the man's shoulder. Hall was startled and looked up at him. "Oh, hello sir."
"How are you doing, Lieutenant?"
"I'm fine, sir," he replied. "There's been some trouble with the cannon since out last engagement. The Chief Engineer thinks it's just from overuse. They're working on it now and I'm coordinating with them."
Sheffield shook his head. "No Hall, I meant how are you doing?"
His Ops Officer thought a moment. "Tired and hungry, sir. The same as everyone else." His eyes fixed hard against Sheffield's. "Sir, can I ask you a question?"
"Of course, Lieutenant."
"What do you think we'll find at Saturn?"
It was Sheffield's turn to think. It was the same question he had been asking himself for days. He still did not have a sensible answer. "Can I be honest with you Hall?"
He smiled. "Of course, sir."
"I don't know. The Fleet Admiral said that is where we could find hope. I could use some hope right about now, how about you?"
The Ops Officer smiled again. It was a rare gesture to see lately. "Yes sir, I could use some hope too."
Sheffield slapped his shoulder. "Carry on Lieutenant. I'll have you rotated out as soon as I can."

Even all that had happened paled in comparison to what had developed late last night. The transmissions had been received just after midnight. The first one had come in from Mars. Lorium more accurately, a small colony that had been deemed as one of the more peaceful on Mars. Sheffield closed his eyes and remembered.
A young man in a blue suit and thick glasses sat before the camera. He adjusted his tie before beginning. "Hello. I am Adam Randolph, governor of Lorium, a Martian township. Recently, radical forces under the banner of a United Solar Naval Initiative have repeatedly attacked Fist of Jupiter peacekeeping attempts. It is directly because of them that the Earth Massacre occurred."
The video changed from the man in the blue suit to a camera feed in space. It was a clip from the Battle for Earth. It showed the Germania. A rail cannon on the station swiveled and fired, the round fired at the Alamo. The rest Sheffield had seen replayed a million times in his head.
"On behalf of the Lorium colony," the man said after the feed had ended. "I would like to denounce this organization and offer our full support to the Fist of Jupiter which has liberated us from the tyrannical rule of the United Nations. The USNI are villains and I truly hope to see them destroyed for their insufferable crimes against humanity." The man adjusted his glasses and the transmission ended. An hour later they had received three more, all with similar messages.
Now the airwaves were being clogged by these messages. Space colonies all across the solar system were blaming the USNI for Earth and proclaiming the Fist of Jupiter as their saviors. Of course Sheffield had immediately secured all messages and gave orders to every ship's captain in the fleet to do the same. His bridge had been curious as to what news was bombarding their listening sensors. Should he tell his men? Could he? Most of his men had lost their loved ones in the Earth Massacre. Those that hadn't had just been disowned and blamed. How could he tell them?

"Admiral." Baldwin's voice brought him back to the present. "The Captains are beginning to arrive now, sir. Where will you be meeting with them?"
"Prepare conference room three," Sheffield said. He left Baldwin in command and left the bridge. He had ordered a meeting with the fleet's leadership.

Admiral Sheffield entered and began greeting his subordinates. He could tell they were as exhausted as he was. There was no time for sleep when you were in charge. He called for coffee and they brought in several carafes and cups for each of them. It was much appreciated but once everyone had arrived, the door was sealed shut.
Sheffield took a seat and the others followed his example. There was so much to say but he didn't have the words. He began by taking of his cap. He placed it on the table and combed his fingers through his hair. He noticed that the others looked at each other uncertainly.
Next he looked at his shoulders. There were two gold stars on each one and he began unbuttoning them. When they were all off, he laid them down on the table beside his cap.
"For the purpose of today's meeting," Sheffield said. "There are no Officers present. We are not Admirals or Captains or Commanders. We are not even soldiers. Right now we are humans; leaders of men but no more." Sheffield looked to see how this strict breach of protocol had been taken. The men and women in the room all looked at him with stern faces. Some nodded but they all understood. They all began taking off their caps and various other marks of insignia.
"I have brought you all hear today to not just decide how we should continue this war," he explained. "But if we should." Sheffield placed his data pad on the table and projected the Lorium transmission against the wall. He was acutely aware that watching it made the others shift and adjust in their chairs.
When it had finished Sheffield spoke. "As I'm sure you're all aware, we've been receiving similar messages from all over the Solar System for the past twelve hours."
"A hundred and thirty six messages," said one man. "Or so my Communications Officer told me before I left the Pegasus."
Sheffield nodded. "As I'm sure you realize, this changes our situation."
"Does it, sir?" asked one Commander. "Perhaps these tapes are not even authentic. The transmissions might be doctored; maybe these people aren't even Governors but actors."
"The tapes are authentic," Sheffield assured them. "The governors are all legitimate, we've already checked."
The same Commander spoke again. "Certainly the Fist of Jupiter must have forced these Governors into making these statements then."
"Did anyone else notice how the man we just watched kept fixing his tie and glasses?" asked Captain Newcomb of the Stalingrad. "It's simple psychology, he was anxious about something. Can't we presume he was under duress?"
"He was uncomfortable," Sheffield acknowledged. "But with what, we have no idea. He could have had some bad shrimp for lunch." The others laughed and Sheffield waited to continue. He was happy to keep this dark meeting as light as possible. "Whether or not he was coerced into making the statement is impossible to know. The outcome is the same; USNI forces will no longer be publicly supported by the colonies.
"The question is where do we go from here?" Sheffield asked. "If they really do denounce the USNI than perhaps we have no more place here." No one wanted to think about that. If it was true, than it had all been a waste. The Battle for Mars, the death of thousands of servicemen, the Earth Massacre. If this was the end than it had all been in vain. Sheffield would not believe that. He couldn't and as he looked around the room, he knew they couldn't either.
"He was coerced," said the outspoken Commander. "They all were."
"I agree," said Newcomb. The man had very close cut hair and a large jaw. His dark eyes fixed on Sheffield. "The colonies would not willingly support these monsters unless they were forced to."
Everyone agreed and the first stage of the meeting was concluded in Sheffield's mind. The USNI was still a military organization and they would act in such a manner.
"The question still stands," Sheffield said. "What do we do now? We can continue to Titan to the Coordinates that Fleet Admiral McDermott sent us in his last communication. It is the order he wants us to follow but the Admiral could have sent inaccurate numbers.
"Another course of action could be to go to Jupiter instead. There are research facilities and a small Naval Outpost there. We could stay and defend them. Or if you would all prefer it, we could return to Earth." Sheffield swallowed hard. "We could attack the Fist of Jupiter occupation forces and make our stand." Our last stand, Sheffield thought. As he listed the possibilities he realized that none of them had much hope. Either way they would run like cowards or die for people that opposed them.
"We should go to Saturn," said the Commander. "It was the will of the Fleet Admiral."
"I agree," said another Captain. "Orders are orders and I trust Admiral McDermott."
"My vote is for Saturn as well," said Newcomb. "If we get there and it becomes apparent that the Fleet Admiral was wrong than we can meet again and decide what to do."
Captain Newcomb knew just as well as Sheffield though that if they got to Saturn and the Fleet Admiral was wrong, there was nothing else they could do. With their fuel supplies as they were, they were buying a one way ticket.
Sheffield nodded. "Then it's agreed. We will proceed to Saturn. There is just one last matter to discuss. Do we share the news of the transmissions with the rest of the fleet?"
No one spoke for some time. Even the Commander who had spearheaded all other matters of the day kept his eyes low, focusing on his cup of coffee.
At last it was Newcomb who spoke. "They have a right to know." It was a simple statement and he did not elaborate on it. It was conclusive though. They all knew he was right but they did not want to admit it.
Sheffield lifted his cap and placed it back on his head. He buttoned on his stars and stood. The rest of the room stood as well. "We will tell them," he said.