Mavericks (Expeditionary Force Book 6)

by Craig Alanson

  I closed her file without saving it.

  “Hey, Joe, you didn’t finish.”

  “Not today, Skippy.”

  “You say that every time you look at her file,” Skippy sighed. “Joe, you never asked Sergeant Adams why she was in that jail on Paradise.”

  “She refused orders from the lizards just like me, I don’t need details.”

  “I disagree, but more importantly, you have also never asked about what happened to her in jail, what the Kristang-”

  “I don’t want to know, Skippy. It’s in her classified personnel records, I know that file includes notes from the Marine Corps psych people who cleared Adams for duty. If she wants to tell me, I will listen,” my voice choked up while I spoke, so I gulped coffee to cover my emotional state. The fact is, I wanted Adams to tell me about it. No. That’s not what I meant. What I want is to be a person she can talk to about-No, that’s not it either. I want her to feel comfortable talking about it with me, because we have that kind of relationship. The kind of relationship where two people can tell each other anything, and do tell each other everything. If we could—

  Crap. No, that’s not what I want either. Ok, yes, I do want that. Problem is, I am Margaret Adams’ commanding officer, and by the rules of the US military, that is the end of the discussion, period.

  Sometimes I really, really hate my job.

  “Are you Ok, Joe?” Skippy asked quietly, in that rarely-used tone indicating he was being completely serious.

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” I gulped more cold coffee, which sucked. “My throat is dry, been talking too much. And this damned coffee is cold.”

  “You need to know-”

  “Drop the subject, Skippy,” I used my own tone of voice to indicate I was also being completely serious.

  “Nope, not this time, Joe. Without breaching any confidential records, I know something that you need to know. You are her commanding officer, you need to understand her psychological state. It affects her fitness for duty.”

  “You’ve never questioned my fitness for duty,” I blurted out before thinking. “I mean, you’ve never questioned whether my experience in that jail affected my fitness. And you’ve never said Chang or Desai being there affected them in a way that-”

  “Margaret’s experience there was different from you other three prisoners.”

  “Skippy, I know the Kristang tortured women, and I don’t want to hear the details unless Adams or Desai want to talk about it. Desai was there, why aren’t you concerned about her?”

  “Let me ask one question, Joe. Have you ever wondered why a staff sergeant was still alive when the Ruhar hit the jail? You know the Kristang were planning to kill the higher-ranking prisoners last, that’s why you as a colonel and Lieutenant Colonel Chang had not been executed yet. Desai was a captain back then, but Margaret’s rank is much lower and she was still alive.”

  “Uh-” I stalled for time because, no, I had not given that any thought. While we were escaping from that jail and then during the mind-blowing events that followed, I didn’t have time to consider why Adams had survived that long. She was in a jail cell when I found her, and thank God the cell doors in that jail didn’t require a key or passcode or retinal scan to unlock from the outside, because if I had to do anything but press a button to get the doors open, the four of us would all have died that day. “No, I haven’t ever thought about that.”

  “You should. The Kristang originally were executing women on the same schedule as men, starting with privates and working their way up the rank structure. The highest-ranking female prisoner was a major, but they killed her the day before the Ruhar arrived. Before Margaret was scheduled to be hung for defying orders.”

  “Ooookaaay,” I answered slowly. “That is odd. What changed?”

  “Margaret Adams caused the Kristang to change their plans, and what she did then is affecting her today. As her CO, you need to hear this.”

  “Nothing you tell me will-”

  He kept going. “The number of women prisoners was only a quarter of the men. That ratio is higher than the percentage of women overall in UNEF.”

  “A higher percentage of women refused orders from the lizards?”

  “Yes, but the Kristang were also more strict with women on what behavior was considered treasonous. One Indian lieutenant was executed because she simply requested confirmation from her chain of command, after she received an order directly from the Kristang. Because she did not immediately obey Kristang orders to fire on Ruhar civilians, she was considered a traitor. Based on statements she made afterward, she likely would have refused those orders regardless of whether her chain of command affirmed them, but the Kristang warrior caste can’t stand a female disobeying them, you know that.”

  “Yeah. Yeah, I do.” The lizards hated the idea of any female having authority, it had been a problem for UNEF right from the start. Women in Kristang society had no power, they were basically property. A confidential memo I read after going back to Earth, stated that UNEF Command had taken fewer female officers than was normal for the force structure, a decision made to avoid friction with the Kristang. Some female officers had accepted reductions in rank so they could join the Expeditionary Force; for example Desai was in line for promotion to major, but she remained a captain when she left Earth. She got promoted to major when the Dutchman went to Earth the first time, but for a while I kept calling her ‘Captain’ out of habit because I am a dumbass.

  “Ok, what happened to Adams that is so important for me to know?” One way or the other, I needed to know if it was still bothering her. Although Skippy was mostly clueless about humanity, sometimes I had to trust him about important personnel matters. “Don’t give me any details unless they’re important.”

  “I will skip the unpleasant details, that for sure is something Margaret would not be happy other people knowing.” He paused and it almost sounded like he was taking a deep breath before plunging ahead with the story, it was one of those times he tried to imitate human mannerisms and he was getting better at it. “The day after you were brought to the jail, the Kristang had all the women prisoners in one room and were torturing a British Army private and making the other women watch. This private was scheduled to be executed the next morning and the Kristang, um, were eager to have fun before they killed her.”

  “Shit.” I gripped the coffee cup so hard my knuckles turned white.

  “A Chinese Army Major Zhou protested and the Kristang turned their attention to her. That Major was originally supposed to be one of the last to be executed, but as the Kristang were abusing Zhou, Sergeant Adams told the lizards to take her instead. This Major Zhou was already injured from an air crash when she arrived at the jail, and Adams’ sense of honor rebelled at seeing a wounded person being abused.”

  “Goddamn.”

  “Margaret Adams is a very brave woman, Joe.”

  “Is that what’s bothering her, she thinks she asked for it?” I figured the Kristang were going to do whatever they wanted, regardless of what Adams said or did.

  “No. The problem is Adams not only demanded the lizards leave the injured Major Zhou alone, she taunted the lizards. One of the jailors came over to shoot Adams with a sort of electric shock tool to make her stop talking, but Adams had managed to get one of her hands free, and she struck the lizard across the face, scratched him with her fingernails.”

  “Is that why she had those scars across her back? The lizards getting back at her?”

  “No, Joe, the lizards did that, and worse, to all the women. The issue Margaret is still struggling with is what happened next. Instead of taking their anger out on Adams, the lizards made her watch as they slowly tortured Major Zhou to death. It took sixteen hours, Joe, the Kristang administered crude medical treatments to keep Zhou alive so they could continue abusing her. Then they told Adams she would be killed last, so she would have to watch all the other women suffer first.”

  “Holy shit.”

  “Yeah. Margar
et feels guilty that she is the reason Major Zhou suffered so greatly, rather than dying from hanging or a quick bullet to the head.”

  “She isn’t to blame, the lizards are!”

  “You don’t need to convince me, Joe. So, that is the reason Staff Sergeant Adams was not executed before the Ruhar hit the jail; the lizards wanted her to see all the other women suffer and die. Desai was scheduled to die the day you escaped, and Adams the next day. Joe, I do not wish to make it seem like Desai did not suffer, but by the time the Kristang got to her, they had almost gotten bored with torture. Desai knows she did not have to endure as much abuse as most of the women prisoners, and that is the source of her own guilt.”

  “She is having a problem with it also?”

  “Yes, but not to the extent that the experience is affecting Adams. Desai and Adams talked about what happened to them in that jail, they told each other things they did not even tell the psychologists at UNEF Command.”

  “Do not tell me any of it.”

  “But what if-”

  “No ‘buts’, Skippy, I am dead serious about this. Adams and Desai were already violated by the lizards, and partly by our pysch people prying into their heads. I am not going to violate their privacy.”

  “I understand that, Joe, and I applaud your sense of honor, but-”

  “But nothing. Skippy, I have to trust Adams. I have to trust that if she thinks she is a risk to the ship or combat operations, she will remove herself from the duty roster. She is a soldier, I mean, technically she’s a Marine. Adams is a professional, hell, she’s more of a real officer than I am, even if she doesn’t have a commission.”

  “That’s great, Joe, however-”

  “Tell me this: is Margaret Adams a danger to the ship, the mission or herself?”

  “Not at the present.”

  “If that changes, you tell me immediately, Ok? Understood? Otherwise, drop the subject. And don’t tell Adams we had this discussion.”

  “Um, Ok, understood, except for that last part. Wouldn’t it help bring you two together if she knows that you know what is bothering her?”

  “Jeez, Skippy, how can you be so clueless about people? No! If she knew, then any discussion we had would be totally awkward, and she would avoid me. Hey! What do you mean, ‘help bring us together’?”

  “Joe, I know how you feel about Margar-”

  “Drop the subject, Skippy! Drop. The. Subject. Period. Got it? Do not mention it again.”

  “Got it. Wow, I pressed a sensitive button there, you really-”

  “Is this you not talking about the subject?”

  “Oh, sorry. Okey-dokey, Joe, I will not mention this entire subject again, unless I determine Margaret is a risk to herself or others. One last question, please? What if she asks me directly if I have spoken to others about her?”

  “Then you tell her the truth, Skippy.”

  “Even if it makes things awkward between the two of you?”

  “There is no ‘thing’ between us, and I am not lying to her about this. Um, if she does ask, make sure you tell her I instructed you not to tell me any personal details, but you did it anyway.”

  “Got it. Damn, Joe. I still have a lot to learn about people, about soldiers in particular, and especially about women.”

  “You and me both, Skippy. You and me both.”

  It struck me then that I was not technically a commissioned officer, as I only had a temporary field promotion to my theater rank of colonel. My regular Army status of sergeant was a non-commissioned rank, just like Margaret Adams. Crap, as if my life wasn’t complicated enough without my brain making trouble for me with unhelpful thoughts. Somehow, I needed to get my brain to understand that aboard the Flying Dutchman I am Gunnery Sergeant Adams’ commanding officer. Even if, I mean when, we get back to Earth, we both would expect that we’re taking the Dutchman back out, and I’ll be her CO again. Crap, my real problem is that I was lonely, sometimes really desperately lonely. The only one I could talk to was an asshole beer can and he wasn’t much help. Ok, he did help, but it wasn’t like talking with a human.

  Oh to hell with it anyway. Adams was getting romantic with a French paratrooper, according to what Skippy had told me, way back before we jumped into the Roach Motel. Hey, I was happy for her, for both of them. When you’re lonely, it helps to know someone out there is making a genuine connection with another person.

  Ok, so I lied. Knowing Adams had a close friend aboard the ship made me more lonely, not less. But I was truly happy for her.

  CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

  There were two dropships, so we had two teams participating in the assault. Because the French team had missed most of the action during our black op on Kobamik, Renee Giraud commanded one of the teams, with Smythe himself in command of the other. Each team had eight people, and I was mildly unhappy to see Giraud had included Ranger Lauren Poole on his team, but I didn’t interfere. My unofficial bodyguard had every right to risk her neck like everyone else, and she loved doing crazy shit as much as any of our pirate crew.

  Our Thuranin Falcon dropships, in full stealth mode, coasted into the meteor shower and the assault teams stepped out the rear ramps into the cold blackness of space. The teams were all wearing Kristang powered armor suits, with jetpacks and portable stealth field generators. Their momentum had them approaching the enemy at 20 kilometers per minute so they did not need to use the jetpacks, other than to get clear of our Falcon dropships and assemble in formation. The Falcons very gently altered course to get clear of the meteors and far enough away so they were comfortably beyond range of the crappy Kristang sensors.

  While anxiously waiting for the assault team to reach their targets, I was in my office and Skippy was berating me about being stupid, or something like that, truthfully I wasn’t listening. “Hey! Hey, Joe, what’s going on? I just smacked you upside the head with primo insults I’ve been saving for when you do something egregiously idiotic, and you barely reacted. You are totally phoning it in today, what is wrong with you?”

  “Sorry, Skippy,” I flipped my laptop closed, not interested in the game I had been playing. “I’m kind of bummed out today, that’s all.”

  “Hmmm. Well, you are an ignorant monkey, and a member of a species unlikely to survive the next decade despite our best efforts out here-”

  “Is this how you cheer me up?”

  “Cheer you up? Why would I do that? Oh, oh, right, duh. Heh, heh, my bad. Is this when I should try that ‘empathy’ thing?”

  “Ya think?”

  “Ok, uh. How about this? There, there, Joey, everything will be all right,” he said mechanically. “And, um, you know, some other meaningless bullshit people say to comfort their friends. Hey! In fact, since the odds are you monkeys will be extinct soon, you should consider that a license to work on a bucket list. What would you like to-”

  “Skippy, I do not think you get what ‘empathy’ is.”

  “Really? Hmm, according to the dictionary it is ‘the capacity to understand or feel what another person is experiencing from within their frame of reference’. Like, placing yourself in another’s position. Walk a mile in another man’s shoes, that sort of thing.”

  “So, you do understand-”

  “Although walking in somebody else’s shoes just sounds like a good way to get blisters. Also, yuck, what if his feet stink? Seriously, I would not touch your shoes with a-”

  “Ok, you know what empathy is, can you see you are not actually doing it?”

  “What? Dude, I am totally being empathetic, even though it seems like a pain-in-the-ass waste of my time. I understand you are feeling, as you said, ‘bummed out’ about something. See? I knew something was bothering you, because I understood what you were experiencing.”

  “Uh huh. Yet, your way of comforting me was to talk about how humanity is doomed-”

  “Aha! Wait, I think I see the problem now. Empathy means you understand what some jerk is feeling, blah, blah, blah.”

  “Sayin
g ‘jerk’ makes me think you don’t-”

  “Empathy means I understand. It doesn’t mean I care. That is completely different.”

  “Oh, man, you’ve got to be kidding-”

  “Oh, crap, you do expect me to care?” He asked, astonished. “Holy shit. This empathy thing is waaay out of control. UGH,” I had rarely heard him sound so thoroughly disgusted.

  “How about we avoid the whole subject? Thanks, Skippy, I feel so much better now.”

  “Cool! See? I made you feel better by understanding how you are feeling!”

  “Yeah, that’s, uh, what I was going to say.”

  “At the risk of you boring me to tears by having to listen to you whine and blah, blah, blah for-freakin’-ever about your stupid problems, what is bothering you?”

  “Thanks, Skippy, it is super heartwarming that you asked.”

  “Seriously, dude, is your bad mood because there is no real maple syrup left at breakfast this morning? Major Simms did warn you that our food supplies are running thin.”

  “It’s not the maple syrup, or all the other food we’re running out of. I’m worried about Smythe’s boarding party. If things go badly out there, we might have to risk exposure to protect Paradise.”

  “I’m not worried about it, Joe.”

  “Because Smythe and his team are the very best at what they do, and I should trust them?”

  “Uh, oh. I only meant that I am not worried about it because, hey, what the hell do I care? You, on the other hand, should be scared shitless about this op.”

  “Oh for crying out-”

  “Seriously, dude, there are, like, a million ways the boarding op could go sideways and then you would be totally screwed. Hey, hey! Right there! Right there I just proved that I understand what you are feeling, right? I totally nailed this empathy thing. I am the King of Empathy, baby! Whoo-hoo!”