Chapter 1

Young Dutch JAGC officer, Jan Boos, makes his way to his new posting.

Jan Boos pressed his way through the crowd in the station. Men from all over the globe, wearing uniforms of varying colors, were bustling about. Some were saying goodbye to wives and children, or mothers and fathers; and going off to be stationed in the colonies.

            Boos pulled his burlap messenger-bag close to him, and pressed his briefcase to his broad chest. He really was almost a comical sight. Boos, standing at 6’ even; had a broad chest, with shoulders to match, a firmly-set jaw line, and piercing eyes that were recessed slightly into his head. One would think the man a grenadier at first sight, until they caught sight of his briefcase.

            In fact, aside from his uniform, pistol, and officer’s sword; one wouldn’t mark him as a soldier at all. Boos was an attorney of the Grand Army’s Judge Advocate General Corps. 4 years of undergraduate study in political science and economics, as well as 3 additional years for legal training at The Hague itself had placed him at the top of the JAGC’s list.

            Boos stopped momentarily to adjust his three-cornered hat and admire the view of space through the lexan bubble covering the deck of the port. Over the heads of the people gathered he could see the various masts of the ships docked presently, complete with their glittering gold solar sails.           

            At the far end of the station was a set of sails greater than all of the others present. Three tall, white masts prodded into space, projecting a fan of six solar sails. Jan knew that the sails must belong to his destination, the TRS Victory, flagship of the Grand Navy of the Terran Republic.

            Jan smiled to himself and carried on his way toward the great ship. He had never set foot on a Republic ship before, let alone a first-rate ship of the line, let alone a first-rate ship of the line that was also the Grand Navy flagship. He wondered what manner of ship she was on the inside, what her crew was like, if they’d take a liking to him, or he to them. He found his pace quickening out of anxiousness to get to his destination sooner.

            His thoughts turned to the mission assigned to him. What an honor it was for the Grand Military to entrust to him the caretaking of their interests on Minoa! And to be assigned to work with one of the greatest politicians of the time, Harold Botsford, was more than he could imagine.

            No one in Jan’s life ever expected him to go this far. Everyone knew he was cut out to be the attorney he had become, yet no one could have guessed that he would have been working alongside diplomats to restore rogue colony of Minoa to the Terran Republic. He! He was not even of noble birth, rather, only half noble.

            Jan was an officer hailing from the United Provinces of the Netherlands, as signified by the orange vest and dark blue coat of his uniform. Jan’s mother was Anna Boos, of the noble Booses. Jan’s father was Larz Rothgeber, the son of a farmer and a mill-engineer. How their union came to be, Jan didn’t know, but due to the marriage Larz Rothgeber became known as the most prominent mill-engineer in Haarlem, and soon owned several himself. Still, when he was old enough Jan opted to take the name of his mother’s family, knowing it would gain him moderate recognition among the gentry.

            Jan wagered correctly, and his name almost immediately gained him entry into the University of Amsterdam. Soon the idea possessed him to join the Grand Army of the Republic, something that Jan’s mother feared. Being a member of a moderately noble family, Jans was tempted to hold the office of infantry officer, a place commonly reserved for the gentry. Yet his heart was in justice and law, and Jan opted to remain at the university and work to be an officer in the JAGC.

            Upon graduation, Jan was immediately set to work in The Hague, a position that only lasted for 7 months, when he was given his current assignment. Jan had heard of the Minoan war, he even had friends that had gone off to fight in the war. Other than that, he was detached from the conflict. He understood the political and socio-economic nature of the issue, of course, but he couldn’t grasp the human reasons for the war. Still, the Grand Military saw fit to assign him to assist Ambassador Botsford.

            Finally Jan emerged from the crowd, and approached the edge of the station. A gold rail stood 6 feet away from the lexan bubble; Jan leaned on it and admired the ship. She was all of 500 feet long, if not more; her hull was a glossy white, comprised of riveted sheets of Minoan ore. Along the sides of the hull were four levels of chrome shutters, gun ports. Jan knew that on the opposite side of each shutter would be a magnetic howitzer, ready for combat. The top deck was open, well, as open as could be for space; it too had a glass-coated lexan encasing. The casing of the ship was pointed at the bow, and curved off towards the stern. Three masts extended from the deck of the ship; massive white pillars with their golden solar sails. Within the lexan enclosure were open ports, secured by a pane of superheated gas. Beyond the ports were magnetic carronades, small howitzers for close-range engagements.

            Towards the stern of the ship was a 3-deck transom, complete with gilded decoration. Over the top of the transom in big, proud letters was written TRS Victory. Boos smiled and watched as the men on the deck of the ship scurried about. Some men were pulling back paneling in the mast, checking wiring and cables. One man stood on an elevated platform, polishing the chrome helmsman’s wheel. Around the base of the platform was an array of screens and panels, and a team of men were seated at the panels in chairs that were bolted to the deck.

            Jan shook his head slightly in amazement. He produced a small composition pad and his stylus and quickly jotted notes about the grand ship as well as his personal reaction to its appearance. He wanted to remember this moment. He wanted to remember everything that would happen for the rest of this trip. He knew that the whole ordeal would be one of the brightest highlights of his life.

 

            Commander Yoshi Takahara stepped off of the gangway leading from the HMS Victory, putting his conical hat back onto his head. Captain Patel had ordered him to escort an Army JAG officer, a Dutchman named Jan Boos, to the ship. Takahara was ready to be off the Victory. Most Grand Navy officers would have jumped at the position Takahara was granted, but he’d grown bored with it.           

            Takahara had long since grown tired of the navy; not that he wanted to enlist to begin with, mind you. He had joined at the urging of his father, Shigiro Takahara, who was one of the most decorated captains to serve in the Merchant Coalition Navy. Yoshi, determined to uphold his family’s honor and the respect of his parents, went along his father’s wishes and attended the Royal Naval College in Britain. Yoshi graduated in the top 5 of his class. He was astoundingly gifted as a Naval Officer, yet his heart was that of a virtuoso.

            Since Yoshi was small, he excelled in the musical arts. Piano, harpsichord, violin, cello; if one could name an instrument, at one time in his life Yoshi had experimented with it. His father’s closest friend was a musician to the Emperor himself, and granted private lessons to Yoshi. Once, he had expressed his wish to become a musician to his father. The senior Takahara responded that music was a fine hobby and art form but was not the path of honor that any son of his would take, and since, Yoshi made his aspirations a private matter.

            Yet he still continued to play the violin, the favorite of his instruments, throughout his education; even playing for the King of England once along with the Naval College Orchestra. Captain Patel even let him play at the officer’s table often; but it wasn’t enough for Yoshi’s thirst for music. He had, not more than a month ago, applied for the position of chief composer and conductor for the Orchestra of the Grand Navy.

            Yoshi stopped and scanned the crowd momentarily and his gaze fell to a man leaning against the golden railing overlooking the Victory’s dock. He was a tall young man, about 26. Takahara walked closer. The young man was wearing a dark blue coat, a 3 pointed hat with silver trim, an energy pistol with chrome lock and barrel, and a silver and gold officer’s sword. Takahara knew that this must be his man.

            “Lieutenant Boos, I presume?” Yoshi probed as he approached the man.

            The young man turned around, revealing a bright orange vest underneath the dark blue coat. “Ja, herr,” he responded as he tipped the tri-corner hat at him, “First Lieutenant Jan Boos, Judge Advocate General Corps, Grand Army of the Terran Republic, sir.”

            Yoshi bowed deeply, removing the conical hat. “Commander Yoshi Takahara, first officer of the watch, TRS Victory,” he stated. Yoshi stood straight again and replaced his hat. “Lieutenant Boos,” he continued, “I’m here to bring you onboard. Is, uh this,” he pointed towards the messenger bag, “all you have?”

            Boos smiled ruefully. “That’s all I had time to pack, I received these orders not more than a week ago,” he chuckled.

            “A week is not long enough to pack a good-sized wardrobe?” Yoshi asked, raising an eyebrow.

            “Well, there are certain things that I had to prepare,” Boos explained, adjusting his hat, “you know; memorandums, rosters, payrolls, resource reports, accounting reports, land requests…I really don’t want to bore you. It’s all too interesting to me, but I’m afraid we barristers are a different breed.”

            “Right,” Commander Takahara sighed as he shook his head, “Well, shall we go ahead onboard, then?” Yoshi turned towards the lexan-covered gangway and briskly stepped towards it. Boos fell in line close behind him with a smile.

            “The TRS Victory,” Takahara began, “is a 100 gun first-rate ship of the line. She’s about 7 years old and has seen action against both pirates and the Minoan Navy. She has a kill count of 3 ships of the line, 5 frigates, and 17 sloops of war.”

            “Impressive,” Boos nodded as the two stepped onto the gangway, “I’m sure you must be honored to be the first officer of such a vessel.”

            Takahara cringed at Boos’ statement. Countless times he had heard that statement. How fantastic the Victory was, and how he must fancy himself the luckiest Commander in the entire Grand Navy. He wanted to pivot to Boos and smack him cross the face but simply responded with a “But of course I am!”

            Yoshi led Boos into the middle deck of the transom and continued to walk towards the small metal spiral staircase that led both into the top deck, into the captain’s suite, and down into the bottom deck of the transom. When he stepped onto the first step, he realized that his companion was no longer following him and he spun around to find Jan staring in awe at the room.

            “What is this place?” Boos asked in wonderment.

            Takahara laughed slightly. “Well, this is the middle deck of the transom,” he responded as he stepped off of the staircase, “this particular section is the officer’s mess.”

            Boos slowly approached the lexan window and stared down at Earth. He turned back around to admire the woodworking and the chandelier hanging over the large table in the center of the room.

            “One would think I was standing in my parent’s house in Haarlem,” Boos said quietly.

            Takahara chuckled once more. “Sorry for not going into detail upon entering. After quite a bit of time onboard, it becomes less special. Not to mention the fact that I’ve seen this room in complete disarray and near ruin after battle.”

            “A tragedy, I’m sure,” Jan said with a frown.

            Yoshi sneered slightly. It was never exactly tragic to him, and he only responded, “Tragic, dear lieutenant, doesn’t begin to describe it.” He pointed to a set of doors on the opposite side of the room. Within, the clatter of pots and pans could be heard, and a smell not displeasing emanated from the spaces around the door. “The galley is right through there,” he stated, “and my quarters, along with the quarters of the other officers, are downstairs. Ambassador Botsford will be staying in my quarters for the duration of the mission. You will be joining me with the rest of the officer staff in the officer’s quarters.”

            Jan nodded thoughtfully.

            “If there are no more questions, Lieutenant Boos,” Takahara started, “we are on a schedule.”

            “Of course!” Jan exclaimed, “But of course, Commander, lead the way.”

            Takahara once again turned towards the spiral staircase, rolling his eyes as he did so. The two reached the top of the stairs and were met with a heavy wooden door with a bell built into the center. Takahara pulled the cord of the small bell. From a speaker in the ceiling came a voice laden with a thick Indian accent.

            “Yes?” it demanded.

            “Captain,” Takahara spoke into a large elk horn that was attached to the wall, “Commander Takahara here, I have with me Lieutenant Jan Boos.”

            “Alright,” the captain responded, “send him in, but I ask you remain outside here, Commander.”

            “Yes sir,” Takahara replied into the horn. The lock of the door clicked and Takahara twisted the lever as he pushed on it firmly.

            The door swung open to reveal another plush, well-lit room. A crystal chandelier hung from the mirrored ceiling, making all seem luminous. Across the hardwood floor was spread a wide, stylized oriental carpet. Near the window at the opposite end of the cabin was a great oak desk that seemed to almost be a part of the deck itself. Behind the desk was a large red-leather chair, it’s back facing the door. The room was silent, the only thing to hear being the ticking of a prodigious grandfather clock built into the wall over the window of the transom.

            Takahara nodded to Boos, who stepped gingerly in. The door quietly clicked shut behind him. At the corner of the desk nearest to Jan sat a heavyset man in his late 50’s. He spoke to Jan with an astute English accent.

            “Lieutenant Jan Boos?” he asked.

            Boos immediately removed his hat and bowed slightly to the man, “Yes, sir, reporting,” he smiled.

            The man smiled back at him and returned the slight bow without standing up. “Pleasure to have you with us, Lieutenant, I’m Ambassador Botsford. Captain Patel and I were just discussing your record.”

            “Is that so?” Jan chuckled nervously. Botsford nodded wit ha grin.

            The leather chair behind the desk swiveled around to face Jan. In it sat a Hindu man, he was middle-aged and on his head was wrapped a black turban set in the center with a navy blue gem.

            “Lieutenant, sit down, please,” he ordered. Jan swiftly crossed the room and complied.

            The Hindu man extended his hand across the large desk. “I am Captain Vinyak Patel, welcome to the TRS Victory, Lieutenant,” he stated.

            Boos smiled widely and shook the man’s hand. Captain Patel’s grip brought to mind an incident when, as a child, Jan caught his hand in his father’s automatic vice.

            “Thank you, sir,” Jan smiled as he retracted his hand, “so honored to be on board, sir.”

            “Tell me, Lieutenant,” Patel prodded with a slight smile, “what do you think of my ship thus far?”

            Jan smiled wide once again and shook his head gently, “She’s absolutely phenomenal, Captain. I’ve never seen anything like her before. She’s truly attests to human ingenuity,” he urged.

            Patel chuckled, “I like to think so. Did Takahara treat you well?”

            “Absolutely sir,” Jan affirmed, “he seems to be a fine first officer.”
            “Well,” Patel sighed heavily, “he has much to learn, as do all young officers.”

            At this both the Captain and Botsford chuckled. Boos tried to offer a forced laugh, self-conscious about the joke made openly at the expense of both himself and the man he had met not more then fifteen minutes prior.

            “Anyway,” Patel continued, “Ambassador Botsford here was telling me about your records and your current objective. Securing the well-being of Grand Military assets on Minoa? Well, that is quite a charge for a young man your age.”

            Boos once again laughed self-consciously. “Well, sir,” Jan said, “I can assure you I may be young, but I have been trained by the finest barristers of the JAGC and have done my share of studying and observing at The Hague. I believe the Ministry of the Grand Military would not have entrusted me with this burden had they felt I was unable to carry it.”

            “Trained by the greatest liars and salesmen the Grand Army has to offer, eh?” Patel quipped. Once again the two older men shared an uproarious laugh. Boos offered a half-smile.
            “In my defense, Captain, I graduated from the law school of the University of Amsterdam second in my class,” Boos said.

            “Only second? Where’s the first?” Botsford asked with a playful smile.

            “She’s a business barrister in New York City, I believe,” Boos responded with a contemplative look.

            Yet again, the two men laughed. Finally Captain Patel spoke in a more grave tone, “In all seriousness, Lieutenant, I am impressed by your record of high marks throughout schooling and the notes on legal theory that you took at The Hague. I don’t understand a word of it; I am after all, a fighting man, but the Ambassador here assures me that it is truly first-rate material. We are honored to have you onboard the Victory.”

            Boos smiled once more and thanked Patel.

            “Yet there is something we must discuss,” Botsford interjected, “something that is of great importance to the Grand Military, I have been made to understand.”
            Boos turned to look at Botsford, who nodded in agreement. Boos began to speak quickly, “Well, I completely understand that we need absolute access, if not complete monopolization of the Minoan Ore mining; we also require high yields in the areas of crystals and gems for our energy weapons and shielding; the Minoan planetary guard to be set up absolutely requires restriction in size and power; I understand that we need Grand Military bases in every densely populated province, as well as local Provost Marshal support in the cities, and—,”

            Captain Patel cut him off. “Yes, you have a fine understanding of the logistics, that we trust you with, but…” Patel looked at Botsford, who nodded gently.

            “But, we have received certain reports from Military Intelligence Sector. These particular reports are exceedingly troubling,” Botsford stated in a low voice.

            “What manner of reports are these?” Boos demanded.

            Patel opened a desk drawer and produced a tablet computer. He slid it across the table to Boos. Jan licked his lips and looked at Botsford. The older man nodded towards the tablet. Boos reached into the messenger pack and produced his eyeglasses; he slid them on, picked up the tablet, and activated it as he set to reading. Again the room fell to silence and the ticking of the grandfather clock dominated the still once more.

            Boos laughed loudly as he set the tablet down. “Truly, Ambassador?” he chuckled, “Captain?”

            The two men looked gravely at him.

            “Rebellion? Dissidence? Uprising? Revolution?” he laughed, “I…I truly cannot believe any of this. Governor Kellen is in support of Minoa’s restoration to the Terran Republic and--.”

            Once again Jan was cut off, this time by Botsford. “Lieutenant, the sentiments of one or two high-ranking individuals on the Terran Republic’s payroll do not dictate those of the populous as a whole,” he frowned.

            “But--.”

            Patel cut in. “And that’s not all, Lieutenant,” he sighed dramatically as he stood up from his chair and walked to a mirrored panel on the wall. He tapped the corner gently and it came to life. He tapped the Minoan system, tapped Minoa, tapped the city of Valquette, and an aerial view of the metropolis appeared. He slid the map several points to the southwest and began to speak, “Four months ago, 30 March 1999 to be exact, a Scottish Grand Army Special Forces team was sent into a Minoan Military fortification just southwest of Valquette to perform reconnaissance on what was thought to be a mass weapons cache.” The view on the panel showed a large, fortified complex.

            “Highlanders?” Boos asked.

            “Sergeant Gregory MacKenzie, Highlanders. To be precise, of course,” Botsford stated.

            “Keep in mind, Lieutenant,” Patel reminded, “that this was four months ago. They were inserted at 0244 on 30 March. Their last communiqué was at 0517, a location and status update. That’s it. No one has heard a thing from them since.”

            Boos shook his head. “I think MIS is doing quite a bit of assuming if they are implying anything here,” he argued, “and even if any of this turns to fruition what…what do you want me to do about it?”

            “Get them back, Boos,” Botsford urged.

            “Get them back?” Jan asked in an offended tone, “Get them back? I shall have you know that I am a JAGC officer. I am a barrister and not a constable! I do not investigate crime; I either prosecute or defend the accused! I am trained for negotiations, not ultimatums!”

            Botsford stabbed his cane into the deck. “This has nothing to do with ultimatums, Mr. Boos! It does, however, have everything to do with getting fellow servicemen back to their homes. If you feel ill equipped to handle this task, I can have someone replace you!” he threatened.

            Boos choked a bit. He removed his eyeglasses and sighed. “I can…get this done, sirs. Yet, I’m going to need time and the proper resources to plan my attack accordingly before I open negotiations. Please understand, none of this was at all told to me at the time of my commissioning for this mission. It truly is, you understand, delicate ground to go about stating that we have inserted Special Forces operatives into a fortified military installation. That is, by common sense and military law alike, an act of war.”

            “Not necessarily,” Patel argued as he walked back to his seat. “With the ceasefire, the Minoans also signed a pact stating that any investigation, up to and including employment of Special Forces troupes is part of our right as the marshal overseers of the planet until a full restoration could be executed. What we did was completely legal and we have GPS reports stating exactly where they were at the time they went MIA. Now, we have a 2 day trip to the Minoan System. During that period you have full access to my office as you need it to construct this investigation. Is that satisfactory?”

            “It is…better than nothing, sir,” Boos said with a half-hearted smile.

            Patel nodded. “Well, I shall have Commander Takahara take you down to your quarters,” he said as he stabbed the button of his intercom. “Commander, come,” he ordered tersely.

            Takhara immediately flung open the door and stepped into the room. He approached the center of the room, bowed, then snapped to attention.

            “Please show Lieutenant Boos to his Quarters, please,” Patel ordered as he reached for a teacup that had been sitting on the desk.

            “Aye, sir,” Takahara returned with a bow. He turned his gaze to Jan. “If you will, Mr. Boos.”

            “It’s been a pleasure, Lieutenant,” Patel smiled, “I shall see you at dinner, then.”

            Boos stood up and tipped his hat once more to both the ambassador and the captain, both of them returning a smiles to him. Jan scurried towards the door and began descending the steps. He heard Takahara close the door above.

            “Well?” Yoshi asked when he had caught up with Jan on the steps.

            Jan chuckled nervously, unsure of what to say to him. “Well, what?” he asked as he continued down the stairs.

            “What did you discuss?” Yoshi demanded.

            “Commander, I don’t believe that is information that you are to know,” Jan chided.

            “Is it about the Highlanders?” Takahara probed.

            Jan stopped on a step and turned to Yoshi. “How did you know that?” he asked, “Good, God, man! Were you listening?”

            Takahara laughed at the young officer’s naiveté. “The first reason would be that I am first officer of the watch on this ship and privileged to intelligence at the same level of the Captain,” he began, “the second being that we transported Sergeant MacKenzie and his team to Valquette six months ago. The employment of Special Forces is not a massive secret to officers at any level, Lieutenant.” Yoshi stepped around Boos and continued down the stairs. “Avoid letting that security clearance of yours get to your head.”

            Boos stood in silence, nearly outraged at the Commander’s quip.

            Takahara stopped at the bottom of the stairs to look up at Boos. “I do hope you are coming, Lieutenant,” he grinned.

            Boos hurriedly descended the remaining stairs, silently cursing himself for what he had gotten into.