Chapter 12
Many of the same faces that had been present for the virtual conference that Bron had taken part in less than 24 hours earlier were here now, but a few were new, and the circumstances had changed significantly. The Manhattan Municipal Building was still burning out of control, and would probably have to be demolished. Bron was instead sitting in a rolling chair at the table in the Persephone's flag conference room. Acting Captain Lacroix occupied the chair next to his, standing in for her fallen commander. On the ranked screens were Speaker Torres, looking five years older, Admiral Hayes, concerned, but clear-eyed, and Colonel Edwards, transmitting from the cockpit of his Valkyrie. In the absence of any opposing officer capable of coordinating an organized surrender, he was still mopping up the remaining holdouts from York's troops in Manhattan. He looked tired, but darkly amused. Below his screen, Straza spoke for the Zentraedi ground forces, likewise from the cockpit of her Glaug unit. Unlike everyone else, pure triumph shone on her face. General Leonard was absent, having no role to play until the Army destroids could be transported into the theater of operations. York's representative occupied one of the screens instead- not General Carter, but another ranking member of the Command Council that ruled as military oligarchy over the Central Commonwealth. General Olivander was a gaunt and cadaverously pale man with graying muttonchop sideburns and a suspiciously large number of decorations and citations weighing down the black sash he wore over his blue dress uniform. A gaggle of armed junior officers from the various branches of York's military was milling about a table that was visible behind him in the camera frame, watching the proceedings with hard gazes.
If anything, Bron felt more out of place than before. The right side of his face and the back of his right hand were taped over with gauze to cover his burns, and he was wearing an unadorned UN Navy service khaki uniform, its collar damp from his still wet hair. He had not forgotten that Speaker Torres had promised to remove him after the crisis was resolved, but he was not going to avoid this conference. The top ranked Manhattan officials were not present, because many were dead, injured, or missing. The rest were fully occupied moving the government back into the old city hall, or working to restore order, manage the catastrophic casualties and battle damage, and get basic city services back in place. Besides, York's leaders were still refusing direct communication with either Manhattan or Breetai and Exedore, so Bron was determined to speak up for Manhattan's people when necessary, and the United Earth Government's interests be damned. He was sure Vanessa would understand and approve. It was not clear what had happened aboard the Sal-Dezir, but its unexpected departure and slow return, which was still in progress, seemed to have prompted this emergency conference. Bron could hardly contain his jubilation at learning Vanessa was alive, or his disappointment that their reunion was delayed, but until then, he would do as she had always done- stand for truth, fairness, and compassion. All of the attending officers were ready, and Milena Torres brought the conference to order.
"I know all of us have a lot to deal with, so we will move forward quickly. General Olivander, you have something to tell us."
"Yes," the enemy commander answered in a reedy voice. "Given recent developments, the Central Commonwealth of York is ready to discuss a cessation of combat operations, in return for certain assurances."
Some of the gathered officers and officials were better at controlling their reactions than others, but the overall response was incredulous. Bron shook his head. Their army's been wiped out and that's what he has to say? Edwards snorted derisive laughter.
"Aren't you getting a bit ahead of yourself, General? What if we aren't ready for a cessation of combat operations?" He smiled cruelly. "Or what if the Zentraedi aren't?"
Olivander somehow paled further at that last comment. Bron nodded to himself. They still hate us, but right now their fear is stronger than their hate.
"The Zentraedi forces must stand down immediately!" Olivander stated emphatically.
"The Zentraedi Allied Fleet was not included in this negotiation, at your insistence, General," Torres said, sharply.
"But everyone knows they'll listen to you! The Zentraedi warship that attacked us must remove itself completely from York's borders, and their ground forces must stop their massacre of our troops and pull back to the Hudson River! In return-"
"Massacre!" Straza scoffed. "What's left of your battlepod corps abandoned their mecha on the banks of the Hackensack River and surrendered to us en masse. Be glad I am a UN Spacy officer. One of my compatriots might not have been so merciful. Your military's crimes against the Zentraedi are well known."
"The prisoners are under guard and are receiving food and medical attention from the Persephone's marines," Captain Lacroix added.
Olivander, looking offended, pretended not to hear either of them.
"As I was saying, in return, York will withdraw its claims against Manhattan and extend recognition of its government and borders."
Torres folded her arms.
"That's not enough, General. York's lawless invasion wreaked terrible damage in Manhattan and there is already emerging evidence of numerous war crimes carried out against the population in general and Zentraedi in particular, just in the few hours that combat occurred."
"Our offer would be contingent upon pledges of immunity for select officers who were unaware of illegal orders given by General Carter to the field army at the launch of the operation, or of the actions of rank and file troops acting in the heat of the moment," Olivander said over steepled fingers. So that's your game, Bron thought.
"And where is General Carter?" he asked.
"General Carter has been missing and presumed dead since the Zentraedi warship's savage bombardment of his field headquarters and the encampment," Olivander answered. "Which may itself be a war crime, I might add!"
"You mean the encampment where you launched multiple weapons of mass destruction and set them off two kilometers from Manhattan? I had a very close seat for that, General. The Zentraedi may feel they need to press their own charges," Bron said grimly, "and pursue their own justice, in their own way."
Olivander visibly wilted. One of the junior officers behind him, an infantry captain, stalked forward and whispered angrily into the general's ear. The general recoiled.
"But that will mean-"
The junior officer glared down at him, and behind them, an Air Fleet lieutenant loudly chambered a round in the submachine gun she was holding across her knees. Olivander swallowed and nodded, then turned back to the camera.
"York is prepared to cooperate with an independent investigation into any such allegations, so long as it is supervised by the UEG, and not any of the other parties to this conflict."
The captain remained right by his side now, so close he was almost touching his shoulder.
"There are other matters that must be looked into as well," Admiral Hayes said, her voice uncompromising. "Matters such as how those Reflex missiles made their way from UN Spacy stockpiles into York's hands. Or the number of undeclared agents York has placed within the ranks of the United Earth Forces."
"Admiral, that is well beyond the scope of what we reached out to your government to discuss today," Olivander complained. "It is hardly helpful to derail the negotiations with these distractions."
"May I remind you, General," Speaker Torres broke in, scowling,"that the Zentraedi Allied Fleet has just unilaterally withdrawn from its mutual defense agreement with the UEG. We can make no guarantees regarding the actions of the forty-seven remaining Zentraedi warships. Nor can we speak to York's safety-"
There was open fear on Olivander's face as he interrupted.
"You- you wouldn't abandon other human beings to the aliens! You have to protect us!"
"-unless York agrees to permit the entrance of UEF peace-keepers, as well as to host inspection teams that will enforce compliance with international laws and the UEG Declaration of Human Rights. Only by normalizing relations with the United Earth Government can York be assured of its survival in the coming days."
Bron had never seen the Speaker look so merciless. Olivander's reaction was apoplectic.
"You can't possibly expect us to give in to such outrageous-!"
The infantry captain hovering at his shoulder cleared his throat menacingly. The general stiffened, and looked behind him at the other junior officers, who were noisily scooting their chairs back from the table and standing, hands on weapons. When he turned back, he took a deep breath and tried to calm himself.
"Your proposal may have merit, Madam Speaker. The Command Council is currently being… reorganized. Can we have a one hour recess and then reconvene on a private channel to discuss York's new relationship with your government?"
Torres gave a shallow nod.
"You may."
"Thank you. One hour then, Madam Speaker." He paused, then called back to the other officers, not seeming to realize that the camera was continuing to transmit. "Don't give me that look! I've humiliated myself and done everything you demanded-!"
The signal abruptly cut, and the video feed was replaced by a still image of York's heraldry. Torres allowed herself a bland smile before speaking.
"It would appear that there will soon be a major change in York's leadership and foreign policy." Her expression became serious again. "These high level negotiations are going to monopolize my time for the next few days, but I know that all of you are going to have your hands full dealing with the aftermath of the fighting in and around Manhattan. General Edwards, Captain Lacroix, the performance of your pilots and sailors was exceptional, and your promotions have been fast-tracked and approved at the Defense Ministry. General, you will continue to lead the military side of the operations, until General Leonard arrives in theater. Captain Lacroix, you will be assisting General Edwards in providing security to the people of Manhattan while they recover, distributing humanitarian aid, and in managing the prisoners of war."
Both officers nodded as Torres went on.
"Admiral Hayes will oversee the shipment of relief supplies to be provided by the space forces, since today's losses have spread the Navy very thin."
"I'll be personally organizing the shuttle convoy. You can expect assistance to arrive tonight."
"Good. Lieutenant Pentiet!"
"Yes, Madam Speaker?"
The Speaker smiled warmly. "Earth is fortunate indeed that a UN Spacy officer of your skill and experience was available to lead the Zentraedi ground assault. I know your losses were great. We owe you and your troops our gratitude."
"It has been the greatest honor of my life to stand and defend the innocent people of this city today."
Bron had not had the opportunity to meet Straza before now, but Vanessa had spoken highly of her in messages about the training cohort. For Straza, this day at long last started her on a path of redemption. Torres's smile broadened.
"Your actions are proof to everyone that Miriya Sterling is no exception. The Zentraedi have a place in the United Earth Forces. For now, In the absence of Lieutenant Commander Leeds, you will report directly to Admiral Hayes. Move your forces aboard the Sal-Dezir when it returns, and until then, continue to work with your counterparts in the Army of the Southern Cross."
"I understand."
"Inspector General!"
"Y-Yes Madam Speaker?" Bron answered, almost sputtering in his surprise at being addressed. He had expected the conference to be ending now. Perhaps she planned to order him flown back to Monument.
"As I will be occupied with these critical negotiations for the foreseeable future, that leaves you as the final authority in all matters of UEG policy regarding Manhattan. All civilian and military officials in-theater are accountable to you."
Bron almost fell out of his chair.
"Me? Are you sure, Madam Speaker?"
Torres seemed to be enjoying his confusion. He saw something behind her eyes that told him she had not forgotten her previous words to him, and that her current actions were based on the needs of the moment.
"Who else could I leave in charge here, Inspector?" she asked matter-of-factly. "The UEG represents the people of Earth. Civilian authority is absolute. You have oversight in all matters. We have, through great sacrifice, won the battle. Now we must win the peace. Meet with Manhattan's leaders, find out what support they need to recover, and build strong bonds between them and our government."
The Sal-Dezir still seemed to be under some kind of communications blackout below the level of senior military staff, and as it was not yet back in the Manhattan theater of operations, there was no way Bron could push a message through to Vanessa. With so much to do, he reluctantly determined that he needed to find a seat on a helicopter and meet back up with Mary at City Hall, but before he left the Persephone, there was one person that he felt he had to visit. The sick bay was so overwhelmed with wounded, both civilian and military, that field hospital tents were being set up ashore, but Admiral Hunter had a curtain around his bed, giving him a small measure of privacy. The admiral, his head bandaged and his left arm in a cast that was suspended from a brace, was alert and sitting up. He greeted Bron with a bemused expression.
"Good afternoon, Inspector General. Glad to see you made it out ok."
"I'm sorry you were hurt, Admiral."
"I've had worse. You can call me Rick. This is hardly a formal situation. I'm an admiral without a command right now. The Lightning is in pieces again."
"I wanted to thank you for saving my life- for saving the lives of all those people in the Municipal Building."
Rick cocked his head to one side.
"Did I? You evacuated on the metro train, which I didn't even know about. I'm not sure you needed me at all. I've been thinking I may have just embarrassed myself, Lisa, and the UN Spacy again."
"Well I think you made a difference. It felt like the whole building was going to come down around us before we could escape. At that moment, you were the only person there to protect us."
"Maybe, but did it really need to be me?" Rick wondered, his expression troubled.
"What do you mean?"
"Just something Edwards said this morning. Lisa let me go- she understood how important this was to me. But was I really doing it for all of you, or because I wanted to feel useful? I mean, just a few weeks ago, Vanessa finally convinced me to take my new command responsibilities seriously, and then here I go, jumping right back into the first battle I could find."
"Hell, Admiral, I think you actually missed a big opportunity out there today," a sardonic voice said.
"Colonel Edwards?" Rick sounded at once surprised and outraged as Edwards swept the curtain aside and stepped up to the bedside. He was still wearing his rumpled, sweat-stained flight suit, and, oddly, held a plastic wrapped bouquet of white flowers in one hand and a tall plastic mug in the other.
"It's 'General,' now. Apparently the brass chose to recognize my contributions to our victory."
"Contributions?" Rick burst out, and winced as he aggravated his injuries. "You left me for dead!"
"Oh, don't be so dramatic, Hunter. My Ghosts were arriving just then and smashing straight into about nine hundred battlepods. I had to keep my attention on the big picture. Did you expect me to hop out of my veritech and bandage all of your boo-boos myself? I marked your location for Search-and-Rescue. Did you think I'd risk my career over some silly rivalry?"
"Oh, spare me!" Rick growled, rolling his eyes. "I was stuck in that cockpit for hours. And what did you mean just now about how I 'missed a big opportunity'?"
Edwards grinned, displaying perfect, white teeth. "Why, the opportunity to go down in history, Admiral!"
Bron and Rick exchanged a confused glance. "What are you talking about?" Rick asked testily.
"You could have been remembered forever as the youngest flag ranked officer to ever be killed in action!"
Rick groaned, putting his hand over his face. "Get out. Please."
"Now don't be that way. I went to all this trouble to come see you while my veritechs are being serviced. Figured you'd be lonely stuck here in bed, with your sweetheart still way up there in orbit. Look, I even brought you flowers to cheer you up."
Edwards set the mug of water on Rick's tray table and began stripping the plastic from the bouquet.
"White carnations?" Rick said skeptically.
"I thought the symbolism was appropriate. Look it up when you get a chance," Edwards said casually, though there was a gleam in his eye as he dropped the slightly wilted flowers into the mug and gave them a quick shake to spread out the stems. Bron did know the symbolism, having asked Mary about flowers when he began properly dating Vanessa, and decided it would be better to keep the information to himself.
"Where in the world did you find flowers?" he asked.
"Heh, these big Navy ships. They have just about everything you can think of below deck. A real floating city. But then, you'd both be used to the life of luxury on the SDF-1, wouldn't you?"
"Hey!" Rick protested, and Edwards made a show of checking his wrist chronometer, a bulky gold timepiece of the type men wore to make a statement about how costly they were.
"I'd best be moving on, Admiral. We can't all lay back and rest. The Inspector General and I will have a lot of work to do, laying down the groundwork for Manhattan's future as a part of the UEG."
Bron frowned. "That's not exactly-"
"Good day then, gentlemen! Oh and," he smirked at Rick, "get well soon." With that, he breezed out of the sickbay.
"Ugh. Now I know why my big brother hated that guy's guts," Rick muttered. "You'll want to keep an eye on him, Bron. He made a name for himself reporting the coup to General Maistroff last year, but there's always been something suspicious about the way he manages to land on the winning side of any conflict at the last minute. You know, he actually fought as a mercenary for the opposition before the SDF-1 first arrived."
"He saved- well, both of us," Bron said, trying to be fair.
"And I'm sure he won't let either of us forget it. But he's going to be your problem, not mine, at least for now."
Bron thought of all of the things Edwards had said and done today that had left him unsettled, and nodded.
"I understand. I'll try to be careful. And thank you, again. You know, Vee talks about you sometimes."
"You mean, 'complains'?" Rick corrected with a rueful smile.
"Maybe." Bron smiled back. "But maybe, at heart, the two of you aren't as different as either of you think you are. Maybe you're capable of a lot more than you believe."
"Maybe."
The tent was empty for the communication with Admiral Hayes. Vanessa was washed and had found a uniform to put on that she had only worn once. It was the best she could do. She was glad to have scrubbed away the blood, but she couldn't say she actually felt clean. She delivered a terse report of the events to Lisa, making sure to praise all of her subordinates, but otherwise hoping to be finished quickly. It would still take a few more hours to reach Manhattan at their current, crawling, rate of speed, and she couldn't get off the Sal-Dezir fast enough. Lisa smiled at Vanessa as she finished her report, but also looked concerned.
"Every one of you is to be commended for your actions, Captain. It sounds like the circumstances were very challenging. Our victory in Manhattan could have been poisoned forever, and thousands of civilians might have lost their lives. Well done."
"Thank you, Admiral. Will that be all?" Vanessa asked tightly. Lisa's eyes narrowed.
"Vanessa, I can tell that something is bothering you. Do you want to talk to me about it?" Her tone was compassionate.
"I'd rather do so privately," Vanessa said quietly, the heaviness in her chest building. Lisa drew back slightly, looking confused.
"Privately? This channel is secure-"
"Secure!" Vanessa burst out incredulously. Sudden fury overflowed from her heart. "How can you possibly say such a thing to me! Secure!" The palm of her hand bled as she forced her fingernails into the flesh, and her cybernetic arm quivered silently from the power running through her clenched fist.
"Vanessa, I-"
"In the last year I have been betrayed in every way imaginable! Placed on a committee with an officer who intended to use me as a symbol to rally hate and anger, so he could overthrow our government and massacre innocent Zentraedi! Assaulted and humiliated in the street by a destroid team leader who I've known for years- who later tried to kill me! Sent among the Zentraedi, to keep watch on them because you deemed them untrustworthy! I ordered Straza to kill three Valkyrie pilots- the people who I always believed would protect me- because they planned to murder us! I had to refuse your comms requests all last night because some of your own staff were part of the plot to kill me! UN Spacy officers, Lisa! They gave away Reflex missiles to mass murderers! And then, I ordered Reyes to sacrifice himself, me, May and the rest of our unit, to stop the Sal-Dezir, to kill everyone on it if need be! All because Captain Gotta, our ally, had so little hope for a future among us that he thought death and genocide were preferable!"
A quiet part of Vanessa was begging her to stop, telling her that she couldn't do this again, that she might drive away her friend forever. It told her that saying she wanted to talk in private and then shouting about all of these things anyway was irrational. But she could not stop. The words boiled out of her, just as she hadn't been able to stop herself from being sick a few hours ago. She took in a shuddering breath, and continued speaking.
"Right at this moment, someone who planned my death could be listening in on us. So you'll understand, Admiral, if I tell you, no, I don't think this channel is secure! I do not feel secure!"
She watched Lisa's face on the screen, and waited to see the anger, or the hurt, or the revulsion. Lisa certainly appeared mortified. Then that look came over her, that look of iron control, the one that Vanessa knew so well, and dreaded. Ah, I'm talking to the Admiral now, she thought.
"I see your point, Captain. I apologize for not considering those things. You're right, this conversation would be better continued in person. The shuttle convoy will be launching from the Factory Satellite this evening, and I intend to be aboard it. I'd like to speak again when I arrive. In private this time."
For a moment, Vanessa was so surprised she couldn't say anything. Lisa had armored herself, taken on her detached, authoritative persona, with the full power of her rank - for me? To give her the space and the patience she needed at this moment. She opened her mouth to answer, and almost couldn't speak.
"Y-yes, Admiral."
"Get some rest, Captain. You have good people. Let them take care of things for a little while. I'll be there as soon as I can."
"Thank you," Vanessa said, her voice still weak.
The screen went blank, and Vanessa sagged into one of the folding camp chairs. She placed a hand against her forehead and squeezed her eye shut against threatening tears. Am I broken all over again? How can I go on like this? She knew those were questions she couldn't ignore.
Next chapter… change of command, indefinite hold, and a man of integrity…