Since Nova wanted to hide her repair of the Edenian internet and its reconnection to the rest of the world, she had thought up a devious idea. [Sir, how about we show the coalition forces exactly how we took out the Carl Vinson strike group?] she said with a sinister grin on her face.
Aron, who was sitting in the virtual command center with Athena, Poseidon, Aeolus, Nova, and the human leaders of the ARES branches under them, thought for a moment, then asked, “Do you think it’ll work?”
[Of course it will, sir,] Nova confidently replied.
“Then let’s do it. Put up the live feed on all of the screens in their ships.”
Soon, every monitor aboard every vessel in the coalition fleet showed the scene of the EV Heidrek singlehandedly taking down an entire carrier strike group. From the first hulk smashers that impacted the Carl Vinson all the way to the final round of widowmakers that put paid to the American flanking attempt. Then the feed cut off. The entire thing had been presented raw and uncut, with no commentary or explanations and none of the fancy graphics Panoptes was using to explain things to the Edenian and Esparian citizens.
......
Aboard the USS George Washington.
“They did WHAT!?” the American fleet admiral in charge of the coalition fleet yelled. “Comms, signal the fleet. The fleet will come to all stop and enter stationkeeping. I want to see the Chinese, French, and British admirals in my office in thirty minutes!”
“Message sent, sir,” the comms officer replied. “They’ll be here in half an hour, all ships acknowledge all stop and stationkeeping.”
The admiral thought for a moment, then ordered, “Steward, belay the meeting room. Prepare the conference room instead.”
“Yes, admiral,” the steward replied and left the bridge to set up for a conference. He had very little time and much to do.
“What happened to Admiral McConnel?” the admiral asked. “Do we have casualty reports available?”
“Sir, he... he’s listed as missing. He transferred his flag from the Vinson to the Lake Champlain, then took a Chinook from there. We have no idea where he is right now, but given the range... he’s either been shot down or forced to land somewhere in Esparia,” the flag lieutenant answered.
“Fuck!” the admiral slammed his fist on the armrest of his captain’s chair. “I knew letting him be in charge of the flanking maneuver would end in disaster!”
He massaged his brows and took a deep breath, visibly calming himself. “We can’t delay. Report to coalition HQ that we lost Senator McConnel’s son. Have them contact the bumpkins in Esparia and negotiate his release if they have him.”
“Aye, sir,” the flag lieutenant said, then went to the admiral’s office to make the call.
......
“Technological supremacy is terrifying, and the unknown is only more so,” Aron said. He still looked calm, despite forcing the enormous coalition fleet to a screeching halt using nothing but a single broadcasted battle. “I wonder what they’d think if they saw our carriers’ capabilities,” he chuckled.
[Seems like mother’s plan worked,] Athena said.
“Indeed, and I’m quite happy with how things turned out. But it made me think of the visitors.... We don’t know their capabilities, so we may end up being the ones to freeze and retreat.” He gestured toward the display of the paralyzed coalition fleet. “Or we may not even have time to retreat. Then there’s the possibility that they may be friendly, though I have to plan for the case that they aren’t,” he sighed.
“The problem is that we just don’t know. That’s what terrifies me. If we know they’re hostile, we can plan for it, even if they’re overwhelmingly stronger than us. If we know they’re peaceful, we can prepare for it. But without knowing...” he trailed off, unable to articulate his thoughts.
[True, but with our current technological capabilities and our capacity for growth,] Nova held up her hand and a miniature model of Lab City appeared over her palm, [we should be able to at least ensure we aren’t too far behind them by the time they arrive, if not skip ahead of them.]
“I know, I know... don’t worry about me,” Aron said, then pushed the incoming aliens to the back of his mind. Dwelling on an uncertain future risked destroying his present, so he tried not to get stuck in vicious spirals like the one he had almost fallen into just now.
“Aeolus,” he said.
[Here, sir.]
“Now that we’ve shown our might, let’s take away their toys.”
[Yes, sir.] Aeolus had been the one to come up with the plan for Project Miscommunication, and now was the time to implement it. [Moving our assets out of the way will take a few hours, then there’ll be quite a spectacular meteor shower,] the mischievous AI snickered.
……
White House, inside the Oval Office.
“FUUUUUUUUCK!” President Trump screamed as he repeatedly slammed the phone on his desk into the cradle. He had just gotten off a call with the senate majority leader, Senator Mitch McConnel, and was furious.
(Ed note: Names, as always, may or may not be changed depending on whose name it is. I’m not letting misspelled names pass, honest.)
He picked his phone back up and connected to his secretary. “Get the director of national intelligence and SecDef in here yesterday!” he yelled into the handset, then slammed it back into its cradle. He crossed his arms on the resolute desk, then dropped his head on them.
“There goes my re-election,” he muttered, feeling sorry for himself.
Between the loss of the USS Carl Vinson Carrier Strike Group and the disappearance of Mitch McConnel’s son, his chances of winning the 2020 election had gone completely down the drain. Now, he could only clasp his hands and pray to all the gods in existence that he wouldn’t be impeached and thrown out of office on his ear. How laughable would that be? It was purely the fault of his incompetent subordinates, so why should he be the one to shoulder the blame?
It was only now that he understood that in order to wear a crown, one must be able to bear its weight.
