With a smile, Justin stood up and went about his routine of preparing for sleep and the day to come. God willing, he would still be there in the morning, and it would be a better day.
Epilogue
Unity Station
Deep Space—between the Sagittarius and Orion Arms
14 September 2434
After another successful patrol in the LX Vasily Kanin, Admiral Chang Yuen looked forward to a few days of rest and relaxation on Unity Station to clear his mind. He’d toured two captured space elevators over Eire, inspecting the League troops aboard and defensive preparations for the inevitable counterattack by the Coalition Defense Force.
Yuen arrived a few minutes ahead of time for his scheduled meeting with Admiral Voronin, the commander of Unity Station. The hatch to the observation deck overlooking the massive ship depot and repair yard was guarded by two men in sharp black business suits. He recognized it as the latest style from Earth before he’d shipped out the year before.
One of the men scanned him with a handheld device. “You may enter.”
“Do you know who I am?” Yuen asked, his voice dripping ice.
“Admiral Chang Yuen, League of Sol Naval Directorate,” the man replied. “We are with the External Security Service directorate. Please, enter through the hatch. You are expected.”
Few things affected Yuen, and even fewer remotely scared him. The mention of ESS made his blood run cold. He could almost feel his face turn pale as he reached for the hatch and pushed it open. “Thank you,” Yuen mumbled.
In the expansive observation area, two men stood. Voronin was one. The other was unfamiliar. He had vaguely Slavic features and a dense though well-trimmed beard. Much like Yuen felt, Voronin appeared gaunt, his eyes narrowed, and his face was deathly pale.
“Ah, Admiral Yuen,” the newcomer said with a Russian accent. “I had hoped to meet you during my time here at Unity Station.”
Who is this new interloper? Yuen forced his lips into a neutral position and walked up beside the two men. “How can the navy help the External Security Services directorate?”
“I’d read you were a man of few words and much action,” the Russian replied. “I am Dmitry Borisov, and yes, I’m with ESS. As to your question, I think a better one is how we can help you.”
“Oh?” Yuen fumed inwardly. The only thing ESS does is screw up military operations and get my sailors killed.
Borisov stroked his beard. “You have trouble beating the individualists on the battlefield, yes?”
“Not when I get the forces I need to win,” Yuen replied with a thin smile. “As of late, that is becoming increasingly difficult.”
“And if the Terrans couldn’t make their vaunted ships? If their supplies of rare ores were cut off?”
Yuen considered his words carefully. “Then it would be easier to complete the victory.”
“I’ve believed for some time the way to defeat the Terran Coalition is from within. These individualists are decadent. They lack focus and can’t work together. This gimmick they’re using of paying other individualists to bring in supplies because the CDF can’t be everywhere at once… It presents unique challenges.”
“The solution is simple,” Voronin interjected softly, as if he was afraid to speak. “Declare unrestricted space warfare and shoot down any freighter entering or leaving Coalition space. The individualists will refuse to transport anything in because they won’t want to risk their businesses.”
Like I’ve been asking the Social and Public Safety Committee for permission to do for six months. “I agree, comrade.”
“With such limited thinking, I find it surprising we ever beat the Terrans.” Borisov sneered. “If you attack neutral shipping, it will inflame the neutrals, who will, in turn, join the Terran Coalition.”
“And?” Yuen asked through gritted teeth. This spy dares to lecture me? “There isn’t a single neutral world in the border zone capable of fielding enough military power to defeat a single cruiser-led battlegroup of the League Navy.”
“What if you accidentally destroy a Saurian freighter? Or a freighter of human design, crewed by Saurians? Or the Matrinids, for that matter?”
“We have five thousand ships in the home-defense fleet. They’re more than enough to sweep this entire individualist-controlled arm of the galaxy and grind them to dust.” As he said the words, Yuen knew the ships would never be sent, especially after the CDF’s attack on Sol. It still felt good to point out the obvious.
“The politicians won’t allow the steamroller,” Borisov replied. “Though you know that. Trying to bait me into a poorly timed comment. Perhaps you’re smarter than I first thought.”
They all eyed one another.
Voronin took a step back and held up his hands. “Comrades, we’re all trying to do the same thing: defeat the individualists and keep them from harming our glorious League.”
Borisov held out a tablet toward Yuen. “This is a list of the materials I require from your vessels.”
Plasma weapons… energy shields… explosives… hand-held weapons. What the hell is this? “We need this equipment. You want us to strip the plasma cannons off a cruiser?” Yuen nearly erupted. Only that the Russian was a fully-fledged ESS operative kept his fury in check.
“I don’t care what vessel you take them from,” Borisov replied icily. “Take them from Vasily Kanin, for all I care. Just have them delivered within forty-eight hours.”
“This is outrageous—”
“Or I will have you investigated for individualism.”
There it is again. The ultimate slur in the League of Sol, the worst crime another human could commit: individualism—putting the needs of yourself above those of society. For any League citizen, it meant an extended stay in a reeducation camp. For a high-ranking admiral, it would probably mean execution. Of course, that’s the threat to keep me in line and not asking questions. Yuen shifted his feet and attempted to avoid any show of fear. “You will have your supplies, Agent Borisov.”
“Commissar of
