Soldiers One - Warriors of Misfortune

by Pj Belanger

building crossing over to her barrack’s room. Inside, she stood leaning against the door. The soldier suddenly exploded, throwing a lamp across the room, slamming the desk chair against her bureau. After punching the wall, making a huge dent in the wood, Lio fell back exhausted on the allotted small cot.

  A small knock on the door brought her attention back. “Yes!” she barked.

  “Can I come in, Lieutenant?” Larson meekly said through the door.

  “NO!” but then changed her mind. “Fine, come in.”

  He slowly opened the door, sticking his head in first. His eyes went wide as he took in the chaos of the room. He slipped in, his eyes fell on the broken wall.

  “What is it, Larson?” she said it harshly, hoping he’d go away and leave her to pout in peace.

  “I wanted to tell you I went to Captain Issie and told him what happened, how I froze.”

  “Yes, I know, the good doctor already called me into his office. I wasn’t going to tell anyone, Larson. All soldiers go through trauma on a first fatal killing. We mostly get over it.” She frowned up at him, seeing the hurt in his eyes.

  “I didn’t mean to get you in trouble. I know what you went through when your lobo died. I just couldn’t…” Larson hung his head, as if apologizing to the floor.

  “Let’s forget it, Private. It’s over.” She had meant him going to Dr. Issie but Larson took it to mean her time at Camp Junte.

  “I really liked taking care of the lobos. I didn’t want to leave.” He righted her chair and sat. “They told me if I came here and watched over you, I could get out early, maybe a whole year early. I don’t mind watching over you.”

  “What?” Lio glared at him, “What are you saying, who told you to watch over me?”

  “Well, Captain Meara said I was to report to Captain Allen if you seemed distraught or des, des, despondent.”

  The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. “And did you?”

  “Did I what?” Larson innocently repeated.

  “Did you report to Allen when I was distraught or despondent?” Lio got up from her cot going over to where he was sitting. He looked up, alarm finally ringing on his face.

  “No, no Captain. I didn’t even report when you went to Lissy’s grave. Not once! You are the best soldier I know, ma’am, the best.” The private seemed to shrink into the chair, his fear of her temper making him meek, reducing him down to almost a cowering animal-like manner. He had taken care of the Red Wing lobos, Lissy had liked him. She softened. Lissy.

  She stopped, backing up to her bed. Lissy’s death wasn’t the private’s fault. “Get out, Larson. NOW!” She didn’t even watch him go but heard the door when it softly shut.

  So the upper command didn’t trust her. But then she didn’t trust herself. I’m half a person, Lio thought. She’d been warned when she joined the Red Wing Squad. When you bond with a lobo, it becomes part of you. When it dies, part of you dies with it. She’d been young, foolishly thinking herself invincible. Her enormous ostrich-like beast was strong. The animals lived to over one hundred years. What was the worry?

  So her beast had died. She felt her chest constrict with emotion. Lissy had died. At least Lio was alive, they killed the lobo if its master dies. Omomo sat on her cot, after all the months of therapy, at times the now lieutenant wished she had been the one killed. Eight months and Lio would be back home. Back home without Lissy. She had planned to have Lissy return to the North with her. Perhaps get her a mate, perhaps start raising lobos. Perhaps, perhaps. She fell asleep thinking perhaps.

  The small window showed it was dark outside when she was awakened by a light tap on the door. She groaned, not Larson again! But it wasn’t him. An orderly yelled through the door, “Lieutenant Omomo, Captain Allen would like you to report.”

  “Okay,” she yelled at the door. The lieutenant sat up, interrupted deep sleep clouded her thoughts. She dressed quickly in her formal uniform, Captain Allen had little patience. Larson’s spying admission came flooding into her brain. Lio scowled - perhaps the Captain should be kept waiting or maybe she’d just beat the shit out of him. How dare upper command have someone spy on her!

  She combed her short cut hair in the small mirror above her bureau. She’d been lucky to get this room. The private rooms were at a minimum, but being a former Captain had helped secure it, or perhaps Allen felt his crazy lieutenant had needed some time alone which the open barracks didn’t allow.

  She brushed her dark black curly hair then quickly took a hair clip to hold back her unruly bangs. Her reflection showed her aging. Lio wasn’t a young woman just out of her teens anymore. She was still a young woman but whose career of combat now marked her years. She touched the scar that ran from her ear to her throat. Maybe Lio would have it fixed when she returned North. Maybe not.

  Her gray eyes focused what most would call a beautiful but worn face. Her eyes looked vacant at times, her large sensuous mouth rarely smiled. The first thing anyone noticed was her muscular, well-defined body. Her multiple martial arts belts lay hanging in the closet. Lt. Lio Omomo could whoop just about anyone’s ass. She had also passed the highest weapon mastery test the army offered. Thus despite being greatly attractive, men tended to take a wide berth.

  Grabbing her hat, putting it under her arm, Lio left for Allen’s office. This time she went to the other side of OFFY B. Allen’s aide waved her into his office. It was filled with several soldiers. They all acknowledge her with salutes, as she saluted in return.

  “Lieutenant Lio, I believe you know everyone.” She nodded. Sergeant Mulle was to her left frowning deeply.

  “Sir, I respectfully might add that Lieutenant Omomo is probably not up to being part of this scouting project. After all, she still hasn’t been cleared by Issie for full duty yet not to mention her native roots.”

  Omomo felt her blood pressure rise. She was gonna kill him, it was inevitable - the bastard.

  “When I want your opinion Sergeant, I’ll ask,” Allen harshly remarked. “Lt. Omomo is probably the most qualified person present to deal with this situation. Speaking of which, let’s get this rolling. Jackman report.”

  Jackman stepped forward, “Five soldiers killed by arrows penetrating their armor breast plates. Twelve soldiers wounded - mostly superficial arms and leg wounds by grazing arrows. All were unprovoked. We had to kill about twenty natives who tried to ambush a small squad that was returning to the base camp. One company ran into a man strapped with grenade explosives. They shot him as he ran towards them. Only minor injuries there. I believe Lt. Omomo also had a similar incident.” Lio just nodded.

  “We need to hit them hard, Sir.” It was Mulle again, “If we don’t, we could lose the whole peninsula. They are ignorant natives, Sir. They can’t be reasoned with.” The worst part was the agreement she heard coming from the entire group.

  “You’re jumping to conclusions again.” Captain Allen was speaking from behind his large desk. He was looking over a map of the immediate area. “We need to find out why these natives have suddenly become violent and where they got the titianum arrow heads, not to mention the explosives. We need to stop it here before it spreads not only to the peninsula but also to the entire southern continent. I would prefer to avoid having to engage them.”

  The map showed the villages in the area. Ten in all were situated in a semi-circle around the Cicot River, the river that was set for the first redevelopment.

  “I want three teams heading out. “Jackman will lead one, Markiy will lead the second and Omomo the third. As he said their names, he pointed to a part of the map he wanted covered. Pick your teams, four persons each, and I want you out scouting by tomorrow morning. Let my aides know who you’ve picked. You have three days to report your findings. You have the authorization to shoot to kill but let’s try to keep it to a minimum. Dismissed!”

  In the end she picked Kilton Larson, Marg Golip, Tad Lockset and Roge Millet. She chose Larson to keep an eye on him. The others were just plain good soldiers with head
s on their shoulders. They met by the mess tent since they had to pack rations in with their supplies. She noticed Larson kept his pack extremely light. To his dismay, she added a few things. He needed to shape up and she would see that he did. He frowned but didn’t argue with her.

  She noticed Mulle was with Jackman. He tried to taunt her with obscene gestures but she ignored him. The teams headed out but not before Captain Allen had a few last words. “Leave your prejudices behind. Try and find out the source of the unrest and who is supplying the weapons. Understood?” The Captain looked right at Mulle but the Sergeant looked away. That asshole is going to cause trouble, Lio thought.

  They all headed out. By mid-morning Lio’s team had reached the river without seeing a soul. “We make base camp here,” she informed them. She left her team to it while she went scouting. It took her almost an hour to come upon even the rudiments of a village. They had built a small colony right by the river. It looked newly built.

  Stripping off her uniform, she got a small native outfit she had packed and put it on. It was tight in places but it would do. Letting her ears show, she left her feet bare and smudged her face with a little dirt. After hiding all her gear, including her guns, she took only her small throwing knife. Then she headed into the village.

  At first the villagers all hid, taking their children