Read Online Barbarians at the Gates by Christopher Nuttall - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Christopher Nuttall
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was still a way to do that?
“Launch one strike,” he ordered. If they were lucky, they’d cripple a ship the Marines could seize, which would at least tell them who to blame. “Order Home Fleet to screen the departing force, but not to attempt to bring them to battle unless the situation changes.”
He shook his head, dismissing the unspoken concerns. “Launch SAR gunboats and shuttles—call others from Earth or Luna if necessary—and start picking up stranded pilots,” he ordered. “Shift the main defense command function to EDS12, then have the engineering teams start work on the fortress and...”
Marius broke off and laughed at their confused expressions. “All of this is mop-up work,” he explained kindly. “Necessary, yes, and we will do it. But we also need to remember that we’re alive, we intend to stay that way… and we beat back the enemy.”
The crew of EDS3 still looked confused.
“We won,” he said. Did they really not understand this? None of them had been tested in combat before, so perhaps they didn’t. But they’d performed well, even Fallon, and Drake would say so in his report. “Enjoy it. We soundly kicked their arse!”
Chapter Six
As the old saying goes; Victory has a thousand fathers, but Defeat is an orphan.
- An Irreverent Guide to the Federation, 4000 A.D.
Earth-Luna Sphere, Sol System, 4092
“Now hear this,” the intercom blared. “The emergency is now over; I say again, the emergency is now over. Luna Academy will stand down from alert status.”
Roman looked up as the airlock clicked open, allowing them to leave the Safe Lock. For the first hour of the emergency—whatever it was—he’d tried to review his class notes, but afterwards he’d just tried to sleep. There came a time, always, when further cramming was not only useless, but actually harmful. The cadets didn’t need to memorize information—not with the memory implants provided by Luna Academy—and cramming was a sign of panic.
A message flickered into his implant, and he read it, quickly. All fifth-year cadets were to report at once to the Assembly Hall. The polite wording of the message didn’t quite disguise the fact that it was an order in all but name. No cadet with an inch of common sense would disregard the message, or choose to ignore it.
Besides, Roman could count the number of emergency drills—let alone emergencies—that had taken place at Luna Academy on the fingers of one hand. What could they want with him and the other cadets now? Could things have gone so badly that they were needed?
No, that couldn’t be it. The proctors probably just wanted to debrief the cadets before they returned to their studies...no, there were no longer any studies. Professor Kratman’s class had been the last prior to their exams.
He felt a familiar quiver in his chest as he contemplated the coming ordeal. Passing their exams would be difficult enough, but he’d sworn to himself that he would try for a First—a First, a perfect score on the exams and simulations that made up the final tests -- as it would set him on the path for rapid promotion. All Luna Academy graduates were commissioned as lieutenants once they graduated from the Academy, but there was no guarantee the Navy would send them anywhere exciting. A First would give him a certain degree of choice when it came to his initial posting.
Or would they be sent out into service—out to war—without taking the exams? The thought was attractive—and terrifying. What if they were going straight to war?
He was still mulling it over when he walked into the Assembly Hall. Years ago when he’d been a first-year cadet, he had spent hours here learning how to fit into the Navy. And, after he and Raistlin had gone at each other, they had both been disciplined in the Assembly Hall. It was astonishing how much humiliation could be crammed into simply having their misdeeds read in public, before being assigned to scrub toilets with
“Launch one strike,” he ordered. If they were lucky, they’d cripple a ship the Marines could seize, which would at least tell them who to blame. “Order Home Fleet to screen the departing force, but not to attempt to bring them to battle unless the situation changes.”
He shook his head, dismissing the unspoken concerns. “Launch SAR gunboats and shuttles—call others from Earth or Luna if necessary—and start picking up stranded pilots,” he ordered. “Shift the main defense command function to EDS12, then have the engineering teams start work on the fortress and...”
Marius broke off and laughed at their confused expressions. “All of this is mop-up work,” he explained kindly. “Necessary, yes, and we will do it. But we also need to remember that we’re alive, we intend to stay that way… and we beat back the enemy.”
The crew of EDS3 still looked confused.
“We won,” he said. Did they really not understand this? None of them had been tested in combat before, so perhaps they didn’t. But they’d performed well, even Fallon, and Drake would say so in his report. “Enjoy it. We soundly kicked their arse!”
Chapter Six
As the old saying goes; Victory has a thousand fathers, but Defeat is an orphan.
- An Irreverent Guide to the Federation, 4000 A.D.
Earth-Luna Sphere, Sol System, 4092
“Now hear this,” the intercom blared. “The emergency is now over; I say again, the emergency is now over. Luna Academy will stand down from alert status.”
Roman looked up as the airlock clicked open, allowing them to leave the Safe Lock. For the first hour of the emergency—whatever it was—he’d tried to review his class notes, but afterwards he’d just tried to sleep. There came a time, always, when further cramming was not only useless, but actually harmful. The cadets didn’t need to memorize information—not with the memory implants provided by Luna Academy—and cramming was a sign of panic.
A message flickered into his implant, and he read it, quickly. All fifth-year cadets were to report at once to the Assembly Hall. The polite wording of the message didn’t quite disguise the fact that it was an order in all but name. No cadet with an inch of common sense would disregard the message, or choose to ignore it.
Besides, Roman could count the number of emergency drills—let alone emergencies—that had taken place at Luna Academy on the fingers of one hand. What could they want with him and the other cadets now? Could things have gone so badly that they were needed?
No, that couldn’t be it. The proctors probably just wanted to debrief the cadets before they returned to their studies...no, there were no longer any studies. Professor Kratman’s class had been the last prior to their exams.
He felt a familiar quiver in his chest as he contemplated the coming ordeal. Passing their exams would be difficult enough, but he’d sworn to himself that he would try for a First—a First, a perfect score on the exams and simulations that made up the final tests -- as it would set him on the path for rapid promotion. All Luna Academy graduates were commissioned as lieutenants once they graduated from the Academy, but there was no guarantee the Navy would send them anywhere exciting. A First would give him a certain degree of choice when it came to his initial posting.
Or would they be sent out into service—out to war—without taking the exams? The thought was attractive—and terrifying. What if they were going straight to war?
He was still mulling it over when he walked into the Assembly Hall. Years ago when he’d been a first-year cadet, he had spent hours here learning how to fit into the Navy. And, after he and Raistlin had gone at each other, they had both been disciplined in the Assembly Hall. It was astonishing how much humiliation could be crammed into simply having their misdeeds read in public, before being assigned to scrub toilets with
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