The Terran Gambit (Episode #1: The Pax Humana Saga) by Endi Webb Page B

is that the Resistance High Council has arranged, through the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, to have all nine ships almost fully staffed by former Resistance members, as a show of good faith towards Earth by the empire. But not all. So the High Command has ordered that I ask you all, as you’re deployed to your posts, to get to know everyone around you. Find out who is who, and what their political leanings are. Even though the balance of the crews will be staffed by regular old imperials, there’s a good chance many of them will be from worlds with some amount of resentment toward the empire, and are possible sympathizers.”
    A red-headed man near the back interrupted. Jake recognized him as a Red Squad fighter jock. The pilot spoke with a thick cockney accent. “So what’s the deal here, Lieutenant? Does command reckon it’s time to make a stand again? Aren’t they afraid of risking another D-day? Somehow I doubt the empire has any qualms about replicating Dallas.”
    “Then you would be wrong. Do they have qualms about Dallas? No. At least, not the emperor, nor his High Command. But the senate feels otherwise, obviously, and so yes, they are afraid of risking another D-day. It was a political disaster for them. The Resistance High Council believes that, in fact, now may be the time for another show of force. And this time, we mean to win.”
    Jake thought the idea sounded dubious, and as he surveyed the room it became apparent to him that the rest of the officers felt the same. He raised his voice. “Just what is so special about now that makes it such a great time to put up another fight? Is it those Freedom-class ships up there? Big deal. A ship is a ship, and there are only nine of them. Nine against the imperial fleet seems a little suicidal to me.” He raised his hands in a show of bravado. “Not that I’d mind much, I mean I love hopeless causes. Just ask Po.” He winked at her, knowing she loved the playful jabs in spite of her icy stare.
    The lieutenant’s smile splayed out even farther.
    “But that is where you are wrong, Commander Mercer.” He pointed out towards the shipyards, which they could now resolve through the viewports. “Those are not just any old ships .” 
    Jake looked at the vast, orbiting structure, its twelve construction rings circling twelve tremendous heavy cruisers—nine Freedom-class, and three other, smaller and only partially completed vessels—replacements, Jake remembered, for the three sacrificial ships Pritchard had used to nearly win the war the day before D-day.
    “They’re not just any old ships,” the Lieutenant repeated, rubbing his hands—seemingly unable to contain his glee as he regarded the rapidly approaching orbital complex. “And by the end of this briefing, I think you will agree that the time to strike is not only now, but that to wait would be to risk the destruction of every freedom-loving world in the galaxy.”
    The man next to Jake snorted. He looked over at him—gruff, graying five o’clock shadow, crew cut. A regular old soldier. Jake looked down at his insignia and name—Sergeant Pearson. “Sounds like a pretty juicy target, Lieutenant. Some old piss-ants like me might say it’s a little too juicy. You’re telling me that the empire is building these nine ships in Earth orbit, outfitted them with the most advanced technology, then invited every former Resistance fighter to man them? The High Command sounds pretty cocksure to me.”
    Jake could see the bulge on the Sergeant’s lower lip, and smelled the faint odor of tobacco, reminding him of his father. Yet the man could be right. It sounded a tad suspicious.
    The lieutenant in the front of the room nodded slowly. “We have considered the possibility that we’re being set up, yes. But we have reasons to believe this is the real deal. Intel services believe this is a genuine attempt by the Truth and Reconciliation Commission to, well, reconcile the empire with Earth. Let me