The Importance of Communication - A Short Story by Jim McCoy

(Author's Note: Once upon a time, I met a girl. Her name was Stephanie, and she was sweet and nice and cute and smart and totally the type of woman I needed to stay away from because I knew if I didn't I'd fall in love with her. I mean, not only was she all of the above, but she didn't like to dance! I freaking hate dance floors...

Anyway, that was just a bit over four years ago. I tried to act like I wasn't actively pursuing a relationship with her from the second I first contacted her, but I'm pretty sure I failed miserably. See, the awesome part about dating a smart girl is that they can carry on an interesting conversation and they can analyze a situation and help you see things with a point of view that you've never realized existed. They can understand what you're saying when you talk about things that maybe some other girls wouldn't. Having a smart chick is awesome. Of course, the down side of having a smart girl around is that she can undoubtedly interpret things in an intelligent manner and when you try to pretend that you're okay with just being friends when you first meet and you really want to pursue a relationship from the time you first said "Hello" she's bright enough to see through your bullshit. It's a trade-off to be sure, but it's one that I'm definitely glad I made.

Steph has been with me through a lot, too. Life has not always been easy the last four years and I use reading and this blog the same way some people use drugs. I mean that literally. Sinking into someone else's reality is a way of escaping my own. Reading and writing are not what's kept me sane though. My Stephanie is.

We live six hundred miles apart and yet she's there for me every time I need her. She's closer to me than anyone I know, even with all of the physical distance between us. There is no one I can count on more than my girl and it means a lot. Lord knows there were times when I wouldn't have blamed her for leaving, but she didn't.

This is my two hundredth blog post. Tomorrow is the four year anniversary of the day I started this blog. This is a short story that I actually finished when I'm in the habit of never finishing my fiction.  Today is, of course, Valentine's Day. I'm celebrating. Because of all of the above,  I'm dedicating this post to my rock, my love, my Stephanie. I wuvs you honey. Here's hoping for a lot more than four more years. Smewches!)

Lieutenant Junior Grade Jim McCoy sat at the communications console on the bridge of the UES George Washington, a United Earth battlecruiser . He had dark hair and a headset on that would have looked familiar to any person in a twenty-first century call center. He was talking into a console mounted microphone while typing things rapidly into a tablet with a keyboard. “Right, so Sarn't Major Joshua Chamberlain is going to be ok? Dr. Vinogradov has managed to regenerate both his skin and his lungs after the explosion. You know, engineers were never the sharpest knives in the drawer. He was the one in charge, so why was he standing at the highest spot when everything went to shit?”

McCoy cocked his head and smiled. “I hear you. He's an important guy, but how in the hell did the whole team manage to blow themselves up simultaneously during a training exercise?” McCoy nodded. “Yes dear, I get that it's a dangerous job, but damn. Oh, and isn't that the last one?”

Jim's smile got even bigger. It wasn't every day one got to talk to his girlfriend while on duty, even if he had to do it on laser to prevent his emissions from being detected while on what basically amounted to ambush duty. “So how are you?” He paused to listen. “How was your day?” He paused again, briefly. “Did anything exciting happen?” He chuckled. “You always say that. One day, you're going to get caught up in a massive ball of excitement though. I have foreseen it.”

Lieutenant Junior Grade Stephanie Sounders sat a nearly identical communications console on bridge of the nearby hospital ship, the UES Karl Marx. Her short, curly hair was a sandy color. Her smile was heart-melting and her button nose and ears in the shape of sea-shells just made her that much more beautiful. Her glasses were wire rimmed and fit well under her own headset. “I see,” she said in a voice that was sexy without trying to be, “You have foreseen it. Can you tell me precisely how that happened, oh boyfriend of mine?” Steph let out one of her trademark cute little giggles. “I see.” Souders face showed a brief look of confusion. What the hell? Wait one.”

Souders took a look at the display in front of her. “It's confirmed. Weird.” She turned toward her commanding officer“Captain Mao,” she said, “Something's between us and the Washington, sir.”

Mao left his command chair, “Define something, Lieutenant. What is it and how long has it been there?” said the balding, middle aged Asian man in the fancy uniform.

Souders shook her head. “I'm not sure what it was sir. I only know it happened because my panel notified me of a brief interruption of my comms laser with the Washington. I wouldn't have mentioned it, but with us being so far out...”

Mao nodded. “We're also along the likeliest course into the system for an invader. You did the right thing. Shields up, red alert. Lieutenant Lenin give me an active scan of the entire neighborhood. Souders, inform the Washington. Make sure they saw it.”

Ensign Flrtp of the Inngrit Empire dreadnought Mhsgah looked up from his tactical display toward his own captain. His wings fluttered with concern across his four foot tall ant like carapace as he began to speak in his language of hisses and clicks. “Captain, something lased the hull.”

Captain Flrtq looked back at the ensign. “Any damage?”

Flrtp shook his head. “None sir. It was far too weak to make an effective weapon. It appeared to be something more along the lines of a communications las... Sir, WE'RE BEING SCANNED!”

McCoy looked up from his console, his smile turning to a frown, “Sir, the Marx reports that our comms laser was interrupted. I never detected it, but dammit, Lieutenant Souders is good. If she says that...”

“HOLY SHIT!!!” Lieutenant George Patton came up out of his seat, still staring at his screen. “The Marx just went active on scanners. I don't know how they got this far, but we're in the middle of an Inngrit battle group. I've got at least four Dreadnoughts and screening elements.”

Captain JP Jones took charge. “Shields u...” The bridge lurched and a loud boom was heard. Klaxons sounded as Jones nearly fell out of his seat. “...p, Red Alert. REPORT!”

Lt. Patton kept his eyes glued to his station. “We took a hit from a maser sir. We're venting atmo on Decks Two through Five. Casualty reports are still coming in. We've lost two missile tubes and the tactical array, sir. Shields were undamaged as they weren't up yet.”

Captain Jones looked up. “Great. We can shoot but we can't aim. We also have no way to control the space based planetary defenses. I need ideas about how to complete our mission.”

Lt. McCoy looked up. “Sir, I have an incoming message from the Marx.” The ship lurched again and the ensign at the damage control station went into a bulkhead and left a bloody spot as his body hit the deck.

Lt. Souders looked up from her station. “Tactical says the Washington's tactical array was hit. But this WILL work, sir. If our targeting radar can localize a single crewman floating in the black well enough to hit them with a tractor beam, it can certainly localize a dreadnought. Send me the information and I can tight-beam it over to the Washington. After that, they should be able to run it through the targeting computer and generate their own firing solutions.”

Captain Mao looked thoughtful. “How quickly will they be able to generate solutions?”

Souders shrugged. “A lot quicker than they can get a replacement ship out here from orbit, Sir.”

Mao nodded. “Do it.”

Ensign Flrtp looked at his tactical console. “GOOD HIT! The battlecruiser's tactical array has been destroyed. They have no way to target us with the planetary defenses. Our plan worked, sir. Our EMCON was perfect. They never spotted us with our drives off, coasting. We caught them flat-footed, sir.”

Captain Flrtq clacked his pincers together. “Good. When we seize Earth, the queen will surely decide to mate with the drones from our clan. If we get lucky, the next queen could be from our clan. They know we're here. Begin accelerating toward the planet.” The ship bucked and the captain bent nearly in half.

Flrtp dropped to all sixes. “Sir, the humans are returning fire. That missile just reduced our forward shields to thirty percent.”

Flrtq shook his head. “How? They have no way to control their weapons.”

Back on the Washington, Lt. McCoy watched his ship coming apart around him. The bridge was in shambles. The ship was buffeted like a schooner in a storm. Sparks flew from consoles. A small fire broke out near the engineering panel. It was lit up in various shades of red and orange fading to yellow. A panel at the next station over blew out in an electrical frenzy and lit McCoy's shoulder board on fire. “I DO NOT HAVE TIME FOR THIS!!” he screamed, throwing it onto the deck and stomping out the flames.

The captain looked at him. “Can you keep the feed going? We're doing a good job of slowing them down.”

The look of determination and rage on McCoy's face would have scared Satan himself into retreat. “Sir, you keep me in line of sight of my St... The Marx sir, and we'll beat these fucking bugs.” McCoy gave an evil smile and touched his right headphone. “YES!!”

Captain Jones turned toward McCoy “Report.”

McCoy looked down at his station again. “Sir, I haven't had the bandwidth to get through to Command. It wasn't meant to be a tactical array too. BUT STEPH DID!!! That was Admiral Halsey, sir. They're plotting microjumps and should be in range of the enemy fleet in less than two minutes.”

Jones's eyes blazed. “Can the Marx hold out that long?”

In space, the battle was on. Millions of projectiles flew from tens of thousands of stealthed platforms toward the Inngrit fleet. Unmanned weapons exploded. Ships came apart. Others were crippled and turned away from the fight, seeking the shelter provided their comrades. But the fleet kept coming. The screening elements were taking a pounding. Cruisers and destroyers were consumed in fireballs of destruction. That was their job. At the center of the fleet though, stood the dreadnoughts and they were mostly untouched. Inside his ship, the Inngrit commander watched his tactical display, satisfied. Things were going according to plan. Two lone human ships stood at the center of the maelstrom taking a pounding. It was gutsy, but they had no chance.

Lieutenant Souders wiped away the blood trickling from her right nostril and kept at her job with her ship dying around her. She could hear damage control losing its battle to keep the Marx alive. No one was giving up, but there wasn't much they could do. Suddenly, her face lit up. “Sir, the fleet is jumping! Sir?” Souders turned around when her captain didn't respond. She didn't see him.

Back in Earth orbit, Admiral William Halsey smiled grimly. The United Earth Fleet had so far kept its new micro-jumping technology secret. It sucked to expose it, but this was an attack on Earth itself. He looked to his own communications officer, Lieutenant (SG) Lewis Puller “Message to the fleet. Prepare for immediate contact after jumping. Jump five seconds from my mark. Good luck, and good hunting. Mark.”

Five seconds later, in a near simultaneous transition, millions of tons mass death waiting to happen winked out of existence and appeared to the rear of the bug formation. The fury of the fleet's crews knew no bounds. Crippled Inngrit ships that had fallen to the rear were swatted out of existence to clear firing lanes. Ships fired every weapon they could as fast as they could. Missiles swarmed like angry bees whose hive had been violated. Earth's ships poured it on from an unexpected direction and slapped away a much thinner screen.

Back on the Marx, Lt. Souders was working hard, furiously pushing buttons on her console. She felt her forehead wrinkle in concentration. It was working despite the pounding her ship was taking. If she could keep it going for just a few more minutes...

“LIEUTENANT SOUDERS!!!!” came a voice from behind her. It was Ensign Trotsky.

Souders felt her heartbeat, “Not now.”

Trotsky's voice went up two octaves. He was obviously desperate. “Ma'am, the other officers are all dead. YOU'RE IN COMMAND!!”

Souders shook her head. “I don't have time to be in command. I'm keeping us all alive. Just keep me in line of sight of the Washington and find a way to keep the ship from breaking up.”

Trosky nodded. “That sounds like in command to me. You heard her helm.”

Souders felt the ship heel, hard. She stopped pushing buttons on her console. “What the hell?”

Trotsky looked panicked. “That was the targeting radar ma'am.”

Souders turned around. “Get us the HELL OUT OF HERE helm!”

Ensign Ho responded. “What heading ma'am?”

Souders felt her face turn red with frustration. “Away from the Bugs!” She turned back to the comms station.

Lt. McCoy looked up from his comms station on the Washington. “Sir, I just got word from the Marx. Their targeting computer is down. We won't be getting any more data. They're leaving.”

Captain Jones looked up. “So are we. Helm do your best to match velocity, but keep us between the Marx and the Bugs. They're a hospital ship. Comms, inform Admiral Halsey that he needs someone to take over here. We've done as much as we can.”

Aboard his flagship, the Inngrit admiral hissed in approval. The humans' static defenses had fallen silent! The way forward was clear and the enemy ships were behind him. “Increase acceleration. The planet is ours!”

Admiral Halsey stood on his flag bridge waiting for the next thing to go wrong. It was that kind of day.

“Sir,” came the word from Ensign Ray Spruance at tactical, “the defensive ring has fallen silent. The

enemy has increased acceleration toward Earth.”

“I can confirm sir,” said Lt. Puller, “the Marx has lost its targeting computer. Neither ship can aim. Both are leaving.”

Admiral Halsey nodded. “It's the right move. Comms, inform the Hornet to Execute Option X-ray. Then inform our reserves in orbit to get ready. All units, continue to pour it on.”

Halsey looked toward his own tactical display. Ten seconds later, two battlecruisers and their screen of five light cruisers and ten destroyers winked out of existence, only to reappear seconds later, right where the Washington and the Marx had been only shortly before.

Spruance spoke up. “Sir, the Hornet has resumed fire control over the platforms. Fire is resuming and the bugs are walking right into it. The dreadnoughts will be in range in five seconds, sir.”

A voice came from the comms station. “Admiral, the reserve fleet awaits your orders.”

Halsey smiled. “Inform the assault fleet to focus all weapons fire on those dreadnoughts. Defense system fire remain focused on the screen. Don't give them time to do their job. It's time to end this threat.. As for the reserve fleet, I don't think we're going to need them. Have them dispatch a few ships to protect the Marx and the Washington. Those crews have earned it. Have the rest of the fleet remain on standby, just in case.”

With their targeting and tactical arrays missing, neither Souders nor McCoy got to see what happened next. Military historians, however, would talk for centuries about the battle, using terms like “overkill” and “unnecessary levels of violence” when they referenced the First Battle of Earthspace. The bugs had been caught unaware by the micro-jumping capability of the humans and hadn't been prepared for an attack from behind. Had either of them known that, they wouldn't have cared. What they did care about was their world, their duty, and each other. The multitude of dead bugs behind them were merely a byproduct of what they had been trained to do.

Back in Earth orbit after the end of the battle, Lieutenant (SG) McCoy sat at his communications console watching repair crews swarm all over the bridge. He smiled. “It's true,” he thought, “There truly is no more exciting feeling than to be shot at... and missed.”

Captain Jones sidled over. “That was some damn good work by both yourself and your girlfriend. I don't know if you heard. She took command of her ship and saved the lives of her whole crew. She'll probably get a command of her own pretty soon. I'll do my best to see that you come out of this decorated as well.”

McCoy gave a huge smile. “Yes sir, she did. I hope she does get a command. She's earned it. It was her plan that saved the planet, sir. I just followed it.”

Jones shrugged. “You did a damn fine job doing it. Stay with that woman. She's going places.”

McCoy nodded. “Oh, I intend to sir. Now, if only I could talk her out of going to my favorite steakhouse for dinner tomorrow.”

Jones looked confused. “Why would you want to talk her out of going to your favorite steakhouse, Lieutenant?”

McCoy shook his head. “She always gets the chicken, sir.”

Jones was horrified. “She gets chicken at a steakhouse? Is she a communist?”

McCoy chuckled. "Apparently so, sir."

(Copyright 2019 by Jim McCoy. Don't steal my shit or I will sue you to the ends of the Earth.)