The Frihet Rebellion

The Earth fleet, three-hundred warships, med-ships and supply vessels, set out for the Raga System within the month. They headed for the nearest mapped traversable wormhole from their permanent base around the moons of Saturn at a steady, unhurried pace. The launch was widely covered in the galactic media, with Earth’s full co-operation. They wanted the rebels on Frihet to know exactly what was coming their way.

On the flagship Starfire, Admiral Jorcam Kramer sat in his armored command pod at the center of the bridge. The crew around him were small in number, but highly trained and, more importantly, trusted by Kramer.

The First Officer, David Crane, had served under him for over five years. The Chief Engineer, Mike Lawson, had served for three years, and had worked on recent modifications to Starfire’s engines. No one knew them better. Helmsman Marshall, Ensign Roberts and Communications Officer Karlin were less well known to Kramer, but each had served in their positions for over a year, and he had no complaints against them.

Equally important to Kramer was that Ameridian, the second largest warship in the fleet, was commanded by Captain Crawford Sumner, a man who had trained under Kramer, and someone whose career he had closely followed ever since. Sumner could be impulsive, even something of a maverick at times, but he obeyed orders when it mattered, and there was no better captain in the fleet.

Admiral Kramer was satisfied that, even without the undoubted power and presence of Spearhead, his fleet was more than able to put down the rebellion on Frihet.

Jenny Sax watched the fleet plod its ponderous way on a large screen in President Deaton’s office. As soon as the first ships disappeared into the traversable wormhole, the President turned the holoimage off.

“I’m sorry if you wanted to watch more, Jenny,” he said. “But believe me, once you’ve seen one ship go into a wormhole, you’ve seen them all.”

Jenny smiled, managing to suppress a slight shudder as Bentley, standing not far behind her, laughed. The man made her flesh crawl.

“Very true, Mr. President,” said Bentley. “And aptly put. No doubt General Kyger will be watching until the very last ship pops from our space. He is nothing if not diligent.”

Jenny had heard that General Kyger was actually on a ship out near Saturn, watching the embarkation in person. She wondered why, with it being such an important media event, the President and his advisor weren’t there as well. But Deaton was notoriously paranoid about his personal security. Perhaps he did not feel he would be safe away from Earth. Away from his well-guarded palace.

“With Admiral Kramer in command of the fleet, I feel sure the rebellion’s days are numbered,” said the President. “I’ve seen him in action before, during my own time in the service.”

“We are fortunate to have someone with your experience at the head of the empire, Mr. President,” said Bentley.

Jenny could almost feel the words dripping in oily, and quite probably empty, flattery. If the President noticed the same, he gave no indication.

She waited patiently while the President rocked gently back and forth in his chair, her tablet ready to take any notes required. She was scrupulously professional in her role as Senior Personal Assistant, and in the access that gave her to often highly confidential data. Not once had she betrayed the trust shown in her. But circumstance was beginning to make that position difficult.

“The whole set-up with Spearhead troubles me,” said the President eventually, steepling his fingers and pressing them to his lips. “It’s all very well putting down the rebellion, but it doesn’t change the way Spearhead is managed by Kyger.”

“Indeed not,” said Bentley, stepping around Jenny and standing directly in front of the President’s desk.

“I understand the need for the alien,” said Deaton thoughtfully. “I mean, it’s his ship and only he knows its full ins and outs. But I don’t like the fact that he’s freelance, and I don’t like the fact that we don’t have a patriotic and pliant person in there as his second-in-command.”

Jenny could feel conflicts of interest beginning to swirl in her head. She tried to concentrate and focus on doing her job. She could not let the shell of professionalism and trust crack.

“Both issues that need dealing with, absolutely,” said Bentley.

“Some careful diplomacy will be required on the freelance issue, I suspect,” said Deaton. “But the other...”

“Perhaps this is something we should discuss just between ourselves?” cut in Bentley. “No offence intended, Miss Sax,” he said, nodding towards Jenny. “But I’m sure you understand that, at times, there are things that only the President and I need to know.”

Jenny looked to the President, who nodded his agreement. She stood.

“Of course,” she said, smiling. “I understand.”

“Thank you, Jenny,” said the President.

“My pleasure, Mr. President.”

She left the office with some relief. She had almost let herself and her profession down. On the outside she must always remain loyal to the office of President, and completely trustworthy. Privately, her opinion of President Deaton was ambivalent. She felt there was good and bad in him, as in all men. He was egotistical and hungry for power, otherwise he wouldn’t be in his position, but that did not make him anything other than human.

Bentley, however, seemed frighteninglyinhuman at times. Sly and cruel, but also clever and manipulative. He both sickened and frightened her. He wanted to be the only one close to the President. The only one President Deaton completely confided in. Her sudden dismissal from the office was evidence of that. There were things being discussed about Spearhead that only Bentley and the President would know.

Nevertheless, she thought she could guess what one of them was, and it placed her in a crisis of conscience she had hoped to avoid.