Fleet Action by William R. Forstchen Page B

announced proudly.
    The pilot nodded.
    "And I respect him. At least he shared the same things I did, the fear, the months of waiting, the moments of sheer terror. I have more in common with him than I do with armchair philosophers like you who think you know about war. You professor types kill me. You think just because you get that Ph. D. you're God almighty and everyone is supposed to kneel and call you doctor. Some of the biggest fools I ever met when it came to war and politics I usually found back in the classrooms. You fill your students' minds with a bunch of crap about a world you don't even understand. You don't have a clue as to just how nasty the real universe is, and then you attack those who are protecting you from the darkness that would rip your guts out if it had the chance."
    "You're just another ignorant military brute," Torg sneered.
    The pilot snapped.
    "I spent four years at the Fleet Academy and six years in advanced training. I have the equal of a doctorate in aerospace engineering and nine years of combat tours," the pilot snapped. "As for this Kirha, I'll buy him a drink anytime. As for you, the damn thing is I'll die defending you when this war starts again, and that kind of makes me want to puke right now."
    Torg hesitated for a second, unable to reply.
    "Let's get out of here," Torg finally announced, looking back to his friends. "There's just no sense in arguing with people like this."
    "What do you mean people like this?" Ian interjected.
    "You know what I mean."
    "No, enlighten me."
    "War mongers, that's what you are. You get your kicks out of it, and then live high on the hog, taking your hundred a week pension out of the taxpayers like me. If I had my way, we'd have ended this war years ago and then spent the money for things that really count and not waste it on your high tech war toys that are good for nothing but killing."
    "I thought freedom was worth something," Doomsday interjected "Enough of my friends died for it. Enough of my friends died so you could come here and play tourist and speak your piece. That's the problem with people like you. You forget all too quickly just how expensive freedom really is and then curse at the very people who gave it to you. No wonder I'm always depressed," and he turned away.
    "Now I know where I've heard your name," Torg snapped, ignoring Doomsday and looking back at Jason. "It wasn't that holo movie, it's that you're one of Admiral Tolwyn's hangers-on. He's just the type I'm talking about and he got exactly what he deserved. In fact I agree with the Baron, he should have been executed."
    Even as he finished speaking he realized he had overstepped his bounds. Jason stood up and Ian put out his hand to restrain him. The bar went as silent as a tomb.
    Torg backed away a step.
    "Come on, let's get out of here," he snapped, trying to exit with a display of bravado and contempt and failing miserably.
    "He turned and headed for the door and then looked back nervously over his shoulder.
    "Elaine."
    "Go on, Torg, just get out of here. Haven't you done enough already?"
    Torg quickly went out the door and then started talking loudly again, denouncing Tolwyn and the military to his followers.
    Jason turned back to the bar as Elaine came up to his side.
    "I'm sorry, Jason."
    "Why don't you just go, he whispered, trying to control the anger in his voice.
    "Jason," and she touched him on the shoulder.
    He looked over at her, shrugging his shoulder so that she drew her hand away.
    "He's a jerk," she said
    "I'd call him something else," Kirha said, and she smiled.
    "Listen, Jason. There's always some people like him around."
    "Well, he sure seemed like one of your friends."
    She laughed softly.
    "Like hell. He's a professor on some stupid committee that's supposed to look at turning over some of the bases here on the moon to civilian use. I'm up here on assignment to cover it."
    "A reporter?"
    "Yeah, a writer of sorts, my magazine wants me to do a story on the project.