Fight the Good Fight Read online

  “I will do my best,” David said in return, meaning every word. “I think it’s about time. Shall we proceed to the cargo bay?”

  “Yes, it is. Follow me,” Najem said as she walked off.

  David followed behind Najem, as it was still her ship for the next hour.

  The Rabin was a small ship, much smaller than the escort carrier David had finished his last deployment on as the XO. The two officers neared the main cargo bay of the destroyer. It had been completely cleared of all cargo with numerous chairs set up for the company of the ship and guests. David’s mother had made the journey to see him take command, as had a number of friends of his from previous postings that happened to be nearby. A number of Najem’s friends were in attendance as well, as were her husband and two children. Today wasn’t simply a change of command, but also her retirement after twenty years of service to the Terran Coalition.

  David checked his wrist communicator. It showed ten minutes before the ceremony was to start at 3 PM. The proper protocol was for the executive officer — in this case, Sheila — to call the crew to muster. Right on time, the 1MC tone sounded.

  “Now hear this. Now hear this,” Sheila’s voice echoed across the ship. “All hands, report to cargo bay one for command transfer and retirement ceremony. I say again, all hands report to cargo bay one for command transfer and retirement ceremony.”

  Following Sheila’s announcement, the sixty or so members of the Rabin’s crew that weren’t already in the cargo bay entered to take their positions. Najem and David waited until the command master chief standing next to the entryway gave a nod to proceed.

  At his signal, they walked into the cargo bay, Najem leading the way. While the Coalition Defense Force onboard ships retained many customs of the wet navies they descended from, one thing that changed through the years was how a military hat, known as cover, was worn on a ship. On the bridge, cover was still worn, and in cargo bays being used for a ceremony, the bay was considered to be outside, and therefore, cover was worn. For this reason, both Najem and David put on and straightened their dress covers as they walked into the bay.

  As Najem proceeded on, David paused as an enlisted crewmember rang the portable ship’s bell twice, which had been setup for the ceremony, while the bosun trilled his pipe for the formal piping of the CO into the bay. The master chief announced, “CSV Yitzhak Rabin, arriving.”

  Najem strode down the aisle to the platform that had been erected in the bay, saluting the officers and enlisted personnel that lined both sides of the aisle as she passed. Exchanging a final salute with Colonel Heppner, she stood to his right as David entered the cargo bay. The same enlisted crewmember rang the ship’s bell twice again, and the bosun trilled his pipe once more.

  “Major, Coalition Defense Force, arriving,” the master chief announced.

  Walking down the aisle in Najem’s steps, David raised his hand to his brow and saluted the ship’s company as he passed them; the enormity of his assignment began to fully sink in. There were nearly four hundred and fifty crew souls on the ship; those lives now rested in his hands. It was his job to see them through the next three years and bring them home safe and sound to their families.

  Reaching the platform, David climbed the steps and finally stood before Colonel Heppner. The two saluted each other crisply as the colonel started the ceremony.

  “As you were,” Heppner said, his voice carrying across the cargo bay.

  Turning to the assembled crew, Heppner began, “Crewmembers of the Yitzhak Rabin, we come together today to salute your commanding officer, Major Amina Najem, for her service and dedication to the Terran Coalition and the Coalition Defense Force, and to see her off into a retirement well-earned after twenty years of service. We also welcome a new commanding officer, Major David Cohen, who will lead you into battle for the next three years.”

  As Heppner spoke, David’s mind came alive with thoughts of how the next three years would go. Waves of doubt chased his mixed feelings of excitement. Lord, please let me be up to this task, he prayed in his head. Could he handle the stress or accept that during a war, he couldn’t bring every person under his command home? Pushing this hesitation out of his mind as he looked out into the sea of faces, he found his mother and smiled at her. She looked so proud of him, though he could also tell that she wished his father were there to see his momentous accomplishment.

  “Captain Arnold,” Heppner began, speaking to the Rabin’s chaplain, “please step forward and lead us in the invocation.”

  Captain Jules Arnold, the non-denominational Christian chaplain of the Rabin, took a step forward and spoke into the microphone on the podium. “Eternal Father, strong to save, bless this proceeding and the soldiers who serve on this ship. Grant us wisdom, courage, and help us to walk in your will. Amen.”

  Arnold stepped back as Heppner returned to the podium. “Major Najem, Major Cohen, please stand.”

  David and Najem stood and took their places for the tradition of transfer of command. Heppner continued. “Major Najem, are you ready to be relieved?”

  Najem stood ever so taller before she spoke. “I am ready to be relieved.”

  Following tradition, David faced her and said, “I relieve you, Major.”

  Najem smiled at David. “I am relieved.”

  Over the next few minutes, several officers who had known Najem throughout her career took the podium and spoke about her exploits, her care for her family and crew, and how privileged they felt to know and have the opportunity to work with her. Something that David really focused on was how her family was mentioned repeatedly, and that the sacrifices they’d made were also honored. When Najem was presented with a Terran Coalition flag that had been ceremonially flown above the main government annex on Canaan, she handed it to an older woman, whom David realized was her mother due to the similarities in how they looked, despite an obvious age difference.

  Thinking back to his own mother receiving the flag that had draped his father’s casket, David held back tears as he thought about how often he had missed his father, not always understanding why his father could not be there for various events. At least this family didn’t know that pain in the same way.

  One of the final traditions of the ceremony was the reading of a poem named The Watch. At every retirement ceremony David had ever attended, it was read. Today, Sheila read it, standing at attention and reciting it with purpose after being called on by Colonel Heppner.

  “For twenty years, this soldier has stood the watch.” Each time the word “watch” was said, the portable bell was struck twice.

  “While some of us were in our bunks at night, this soldier stood the watch.”

  “While some of us were in school learning our trade, this soldier stood the watch.”

  “Yes…even before some of us were born into this world, this soldier stood the watch.”

  “Many times, she would cast an eye toward home and see her family standing there, needing her guidance and help, needing that hand to hold during those hard times, but she still stood the watch.”

  “She stood the watch for twenty years, she stood the watch so that we, our families, and our fellow countrymen could sleep soundly in safety each and every night, knowing that a soldier stood the watch.”

  “Today we are here to say… Soldier, the watch stands relieved. Relieved by those you have trained, guided, and led. Soldier, you stand relieved, we have the watch!”

  After a few moments of silence, Sheila continued, “Bosun, stand by to pipe the side. Soldier’s going ashore!”

  Najem stepped forward, exchanged a salute with Colonel Heppner, and began to walk down the aisle. Upon reaching the end, the bosun’s pipe trilled once more, and the master chief announced, “Major, Coalition Defense Force, departing.”

  A round of applause broke out throughout the cargo bay as Najem and her family walked out. At Heppner’s nod, David walked down the aisle as well. The bosun piped out his departure and the master chief announced, “CSV Yit
zhak Rabin, departing.” David then exited the bay and stood outside, waiting for the rest of the senior officers to depart, after which the entire ship’s company had been invited to join in a “wetting down” of the new commander. It’s going to be a long night. One I will cherish for decades to come.

  A week later, David was settled into the Rabin. He had his gear moved into the CO’s quarters and had made the CO’s office onboard his own. He’d developed a routine that made sense to him; always an early riser, David liked to get up at what he called O Dark Thirty, usually four-thirty a.m. CMT. He’d exercise for thirty to forty-five minutes, shower, and get breakfast before taking the first watch on the bridge. He also tried to feel out the rest of the senior officers and develop rapport with them. The chief engineer on the Rabin, Captain Arthur Hanson, wasn’t that difficult for him to figure out. Hanson was a nerd at heart; he thrived on new technologies and tinkered with the Rabin’s engines to keep them in tip-top shape. David had enough engineering knowledge to know a good engineer when he saw one.

  After the first shift was completed later that day, David had scheduled a one-on-one meeting with Hanson, as well as First Lieutenant Ruth Goldberg, the tactical action officer—known as the TAO for short.

  Hanson walked into David’s office, a few beads of sweat on his forehead, betraying his nervousness. “Captain Arthur Hanson, reports as ordered, sir!” he announced after coming to attention in front of David’s desk.

  “At ease, Captain. Have a seat,” David replied, gesturing to the chairs that sat in front of his desk.

  Hanson sat down but looked as if he was sweating bullets. “Uh, so, what can I do for you, sir?”

  David tried to set the man at ease by smiling. “I want to get to know you better, Captain. This is my first ship command. I served on a vessel that changed command, and I was really struck by how the colonel that took over handled it. One of the things he did was sit down with every senior officer and have a one-on-one with them. I took notes on how he did it. I try in every posting I have had to observe the best attributes and actions my superiors took to one day apply them to my own command.”

  “I see, sir,” Hanson said, little beads of sweat still showing on his forehead.

  “I was reading in your service jacket that you’ve primarily served in advanced fusion reactor research and testing assignments. A few years ago, you requested posting to the fleet… I have to ask, why would you want to get out of R&D? That had to be a pretty nice assignment.”

  “It was a great assignment, sir. I love working with reactors and trying to get every last ounce of power out of them. I actually got to work on the design and testing team for the reactors in the Ajax class. We were able to improve the ability of the reactor to generate power by nearly forty percent,” Hanson said with obvious pride, loosening up a bit.

  “Sounds like the kind of thing that could help the entire war effort.”

  “Yes, sir, I think it was. Eventually, I just got to the point where I felt I had to stand up and be counted.”

  David peered at Hanson; that wasn’t quite the answer he’d expected from the nerdy engineer. “How so?”

  “Well, sir, you sit behind the line long enough, you get used to it. I really felt like I was in some ways hiding. I resolved to volunteer for combat duty. I’m no Marine, but I wanted to do my part.”

  “That’s rather admirable, if you ask me,” David said, then pursed his lips together.

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “So how’d you end up here?”

  “Well, sir, my detailer said this ship needed a good engineer, and she’s an Ajax class. I did design the reactor,” Hanson said with a smile. “You wouldn’t believe how much more we can get out of these things after the design team integrates the information I’ve been collecting.”

  “It really is a technology race, isn’t it?” David said, more rhetorically than anything.

  “Our edge is our technology and our training. At least from my perspective, sir.”

  David completely agreed with Hanson; the Terran Coalition couldn’t ever hope to match the League’s overwhelming numbers, but they had better technology, highly trained personnel, and their soldiers were simply more motivated. It made sense; people fighting to defend their families and homes were going to be more effective than conscripts forced to fight on pain of death. It had been that way for centuries. He had read in history text books in high school that back on Earth, the old Freedom Coalition, made up of the nation-states that abandoned Earth, had a scientist named Dr. Sir James Lawrence, who discovered a method to artificially fold space through a stable wormhole. That key piece of technology allowed the Freedom Coalition to evacuate tens of millions of people off Earth, and eventually form the Terran Coalition.

  “Agreed. And our training is something that can never be neglected, even in wartime. If we don’t exercise ourselves on a near daily basis, skills are lost. I can’t allow that on my ship, nor can anyone in the CDF allow it.” David paused for a moment. “Is there anything I can do to help your department or anything I can get you that you need?”

  Hanson shook his head. “No, sir. Major Najem was really good about making sure we had what we needed. All I’d ask is that if I have a request, you do your best to get it for us.”

  “You have my word on that, Captain.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Before we adjourn, anything you’d like to talk about?” David asked.

  “Uh, no, sir. I’m going to avoid the obvious, sir,” Hanson said. “I’m sure you get tired of people asking about it.”

  That was when David decided he was really going to like Hanson. Everyone wanted to talk about his father. What was it like being the son of the hero? If David had a credit for every time someone asked him that, he’d be rich beyond all dreams. Might not have to think about it all the time either.

  “I appreciate that more than you can know.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Well, I’d better get ready for the next meeting. Thank you for stopping by.” David stood and extended his arm. Hanson took it and they shook hands firmly.

  “Yes, sir. I’ll be down in engineering, sir.”

  “Carry on, Captain.”

  Hanson turned and left the office, giving David a few minutes to prepare for his next one-on-one meeting with First Lieutenant Ruth Goldberg, who was more of an enigma. The TAO was primarily responsible for controlling the weapons systems on the ship, guided by David’s orders. Few positions were more important on a warship, and David’s goal was to create a seamless working relationship with Ruth. In a battle, it would be vital that she understood exactly what he wanted to occur.

  To within almost the second of the meeting time, there was a knock on the hatch to David’s door. “Come in!” he yelled.

  The hatch swung open and Ruth walked in confidently. She came to attention before his desk. “Lieutenant Ruth Goldberg reporting as ordered, sir!”

  “At ease, Lieutenant,” David said. “Please, have a seat.”

  Ruth sat down on the chair nearest to her and stared at David with piercing eyes, almost as if they were boring through him. “What can I do for you, sir?” she asked.

  “Straight to the point… I like that, Lieutenant. As I just told Captain Hanson, I’ve been through several changes of command over the years, and I always took notes when I saw someone do it particularly well. One thing that impressed me was a new CO that did one-on-one meetings with all the senior staff. So I decided to crib his idea.”

  “I see, sir,” Ruth’s face was emotionless, and her tone of voice direct.

  David pressed on. “In reviewing your service jacket, I couldn’t help but notice some discrepancies in your dates of service.” He smiled. “You seem to have been in the CDF since you were sixteen.”

  A look that morphed between pride and sadness washed over Ruth’s face. “Yes, sir. My parents and the rest of my family were killed during the League invasion of our home planet when I was fifteen. I joined a
resistance cell. After a year, TCMC Marines retook our planet… and I forged my father’s signature on my enlistment papers.”

  “I’m sorry, Lieutenant. I didn’t realize.”

  “I don’t normally talk about it, sir. I discovered throughout the course of my service that I have a knack for gunnery control. So I applied for a limited duty officer position at OCS, and here I am.” Ruth smiled ruefully. “I get to stop the Leaguers from doing to another world what they did to mine.”

  David felt from the way she spoke that she left off, “And I get to make up for what they did to mine.” Revenge could be a powerful motivation, but a dark one. It was something David wrestled with daily. There were parts of him that simply wanted to kill every last League soldier out there. Yet he also realized that revenge led to a dark place, and that if he allowed himself to give in fully to hating the League, he’d be no better than them. Who I am kidding? I hate the League, what it stands for, and its leadership like Admiral Seville, more than anything.

  “So do we all, Lieutenant. So do we all,” David said. “Is there anything I can do to improve the tactical department or give you the tools you need to do your job better?”

  “Well, sir, we haven’t been to the Valiant Shield exercises before, but this year, we were selected to participate before you took command. The ship has never taken home any Command Excellence awards. The crew would love to change that.”

  “That sounds like a great goal, Lieutenant. From your perspective, where are we lacking?”

  “I don’t think we’re lacking in basic skills, sir. But we need more drills and in time those bring practiced muscle memory that doesn’t fail in times of stress. I would recommend that we begin a regimen of random battle drills, and closer to the exercise, we put the crew through its paces constantly.”

  “It sure would be nice to have a Battle E on this ship at our first exercise,” David said with a grin. The Battle E, or the Battle Efficiency Award, was given to the ship that performed the best in a series of exercises within its squadron. They were a source of great pride for the crew who were allowed to wear a distinctive Battle E ribbon on their uniform if the ship they were serving on held a Battle E. “Work with the XO to put together the battle drill scenarios. I want them kept fresh and to be scenarios we’d be likely to see in the real world.”