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Strong and Courageous

Page 29

by Daniel Gibbs


  “I’m fine,” David began to protest before Simone shook her head sharply, cutting him off.

  “Yes, child. We have a full triage tent, and Dr. Tural is here tending to the most seriously wounded.”

  “Thank you, Mother Superior. We will be there shortly.”

  The commlink cut off, leaving the shuttle cockpit in silence, at least momentarily until Calvin started in. “Well, I’ll be damned. The little sissies couldn’t handle fighting a real war, so they gave up.”

  “They fought against a better-equipped foe for a considerable period of time,” David replied.

  “You can’t have any sympathy for them, sir,” Calvin said with a scowl.

  “Maybe not sympathy, but I’ll offer some basic battlefield respect to anyone, soldier—civilian, man, or woman—that’s got the guts to pick up a weapon and put themselves in the line of fire. I don’t care how you slice it or what they’re fighting for… that takes some courage.”

  “We’ll have to agree to disagree, Colonel,” Calvin finally said, his jaw set and voice tight.

  “I see where you’re both coming from,” Simone said, causing both men to turn in her direction. “They fight for the wrong reasons, but they do have the guts to fight. I would bet that most of them believe they’re simply defending their planet from an invader. I doubt that it’s widely known what those camps truly were. I can’t believe that most people would choose to do evil in such a horrific manner, or to support it.”

  “Don’t buy into that crap, Sister. The average Monrovian soldier might not know exactly what’s going on in those camps, but there’s no way they didn’t know something was wrong. There’s no way the people who’ve reported their friends and coworkers to the secret police don’t know they did something horrible,” Calvin said, his eyes flashing.

  “I’m sure they know it’s screwed up, but I suspect most of them are just trying to survive one more day and direct suspicion onto someone else. That’s the horrible end result of totalitarian police states. When they can’t arrest enough people, they manufacture more criminals because they need people to break the law. In that way, the populations can be controlled,” David said quietly.

  “It doesn’t absolve them of guilt for what they did,” Calvin insisted. “You said it yourself… just following orders isn’t a defense.”

  “No, it’s not. But don’t you ever wonder what would happen if we had been born in the League of Sol? The sad truth is we would have likely grown up to be the very thing we now fight and detest.”

  Simone nodded her agreement with David, but Calvin seemed all the more annoyed. “That Leaguer get into your head or something, Colonel? The only good Leaguer…” Calvin said.

  “…is a dead Leaguer,” David finished for him. “Yes, I know that saying. Maybe a brush with death has caused me to examine my motives further, Cal. All I’m saying is we have to be careful not to go around on our high horse judging everybody.” Of course, I did suggest it would be a good idea to execute the interrogator. Emotions around combat are such a fickle thing. He fought to keep them in check and remain true to his values.

  “I think what Colonel Cohen is trying to say,” Simone said in a tone that belied her unease at the debate between the two men, “is that when we look at our enemy, we must remember that for the grace of God, there goes us.”

  David nodded. “That sums it up perfectly, Sister.”

  “I will never end up like a damn Leaguer,” Calvin replied with a dour expression.

  “Okay, enough of that,” David said. “We’re on our way to accept the Monrovians’ surrender. For all intents and purposes, we’ve won. That’s something to celebrate, right?”

  “Anyone got some whiskey in here?” Calvin asked, breaking into a big smirk. “We need some shots.”

  Simone rolled her eyes and turned around to stare at her console. “You’re quite the character, Colonel Demood.”

  “What can I say, Marines get the job done. Hoorah!”

  David remained silent, instead focusing on the events of the last few days. For the life of me, I don’t understand why a dying man would spit in the face of a nun who offered to pray with him. At that point, who cares? It just might give some peace in those final moments. God, I hate this war. Someday, I hope I live long enough to see people across this galaxy stop killing each other, and if we’re unable to live in harmony, at least live in peace.

  Walking painfully with a cane, David moved slowly down the hallway in the Monrovian government building they were headed to the meet now prime minister of the planet, Martin Attwood. Flanked by Mother Superior Sarno and Calvin, David’s injuries forced them to keep a slow pace. “I’m sorry I’m holding you all up,” David said, annoyed at his frailty.

  “I could always get you a wheelchair, Colonel,” Calvin said in a joking tone.

  “Out of respect to those who truly need that form of transport, I’ll walk since I am able. Besides, Dr. Tural said I should walk it off.”

  “Uh-huh. I don’t think Tural would say that. A real Marine Corps doctor? Yeah. He’d prescribe push-ups.”

  Out of the corner of his left eye, David caught Sarno rolling her eyes; at last, they made it to the richly decorated and ornate wood door to the PM’s office. Calvin opened it up, and they saw several sisters guarding the room while a nervous-looking man sat behind the desk. There was a bloodstain on the wall behind him; he wondered what that was all about.

  The man behind the desk stood as David walked in. “Colonel Cohen, I presume?”

  “Mr. Attwood,” David replied as he made his way into the room slowly.

  Attwood stood from the desk and met David, holding out his hand.

  David stared at the hand for several seconds before shaking it, a solemn expression on his face. “Mother Superior Sarno,” David said, gesturing to Sarno.

  Attwood stuck out his hand to her, and they shook as well.

  “Colonel Calvin Demood, Terran Coalition Marine Corps,” David said, turning toward Calvin.

  When Attwood turned and tried to shake Calvin’s hand, he simply ignored it. After more than a few seconds of awkward pause, Attwood got the hint and walked back behind the desk. “Please sit down and make yourselves comfortable.”

  Once Sarno had taken a seat, making sure her long robes were appropriately tucked under her, David sat. Calvin remained standing, looking like a hulking figure who was spoiling for a fight.

  “You asked us here under a flag of truce after unconditional surrender, Mr. Attwood. Now…what do you want?” David asked directly.

  “I realize you have no reason to trust me, Colonel Cohen. I appreciate that.”

  “You appreciate that?” David shot back, his voice still hoarse. “Let me tell you what I appreciate. The last two days, I was tortured in a Monrovian prison facility. I saw a fellow POW shot in the head by a League interrogator, a Leaguer that your government invited here and sanctioned. Before I was captured, I saw the camps where your government tortured and executed God knows how many people,” he said, his voice finding purpose and growing in strength as he continued to speak.

  “There’s no apology I can make that is adequate, Colonel,” Attwood began before David cut him off.

  “You don’t need to apologize to me. You need to apologize to the survivors of those camps. To the families whose loved ones were machine-gunned or gassed before being dumped into mass graves. I got off easy. They didn’t. How many did your government kill? Ten thousand? A hundred thousand? Several hundred thousand?”

  Attwood looked visibly ill and glanced away from David’s rage-flushed face.

  “Don’t you dare look away from me, Mr. Attwood!” His eyes bored into the man sitting across from him. “How many?” David shouted at the top of his lungs.

  “I don’t know. At least several hundred thousand.”

  “And now what, you expect to just say sorry and keep on as the leader of your planet and continue your political career?”

  “Not in the least,” Attwood
replied, and for the first time, David saw a spark of something that looked like remorse behind his eyes. “I was weak, and I was a coward. I’m not the right person to lead Monrovia out of the abyss it’s in. I only hope to keep it functioning until we can find that person.”

  David leaned back in his seat. “Go on.”

  “The first thing we have to do, after closing the camps, of course, is to begin a wide-ranging investigation of how this occurred.”

  “It occurred when your government decided that killing people who disagreed with others’ positions on matters of faith was a good idea,” David shot back.

  “It didn’t start out here, Colonel,” Attwood said while shaking his head. “I never meant for this to happen. I don’t think any of us did. We took one step down the road, thinking if we just had a little more power, we could help our planet. Then we decided that joining the League was the way to ensure our continued existence with some level of autonomy. One step led to another, then to another. Each compromise became easier, and when it finally came time to open up camps and round up our citizens… friends… families,” his voice trailed off for a moment, and emotion overtook his face, “no one had the guts to say no. I will go to my grave regretting that I didn’t stand up and say no, even though it would have meant my death.”

  Maybe he is ashamed. Hard to believe that he wouldn’t be after being brought face to face with the reality of what his government did. “If you’re looking for sympathy, you won’t find it here.”

  “I’m not looking for your sympathy, Colonel. Just your help. As the ranking member of the Coalition Defense Force on this planet, I’d like you to get your government to send in a peace-keeping force as soon as possible. The Monrovian National Guard must be disbanded immediately, along with our paramilitary police units. Honestly, our entire law enforcement structure needs to be rebuilt from the ground up. Until we can do that, can the Little Sisters of Divine Recompense and the Lion of Judah stay on station?”

  “I can’t speak for the Mother Superior, but the Lion is unlikely to be able to stay long. There’s a war to fight,” David said, before glancing at Sarno. “What about the sisters?”

  “I can keep our current forces on the planet until CDF reinforcements arrive, Colonel Cohen,” the older nun replied in her normal taciturn tone.

  “Thank you, Mother Superior,” Attwood said. “Any assistance from the Terran Coalition would be welcome.”

  “What about the people who participated in the bloodshed? There must be justice,” David interjected.

  “I’d like an outside entity, perhaps a joint effort between the Terran Coalition and the Organization of Non-Aligned Planets, to investigate and bring charges against anyone who participated in, organized, carried out, or in any way supported the actions of our recent government,” Attwood replied.

  “Does that include you?”

  “As soon as I can identify a successor, yes, it does. I will plead guilty and accept whatever punishment is handed out.”

  David stared at Attwood for a moment, taking in his statement. “That’s a start,” he finally said. “I would expect this investigation to also look into terrorist activities by religious groups as well. General Monahan and those who planned and carried out suicide attacks that claimed innocent lives must face justice.”

  “I appreciate that sentiment, Colonel.”

  “I apply my ethics evenly in every way that I can, Mr. Attwood.”

  “It will be a very long road back for us to heal what’s happened and make everyone on Monrovia believe in the rule of law and basic freedoms again,” Attwood replied.

  “I would think most of the people who were persecuted by your government will simply want to leave, no matter what you do,” Sarno said. “I’m certain that the Terran Coalition will accept them, should they wish to apply for refugee status.”

  “Of course, Mother Superior. I will support whatever choice the citizens of our planet make. I want to make up for it all, somehow.”

  “You don’t make up for this kind of heinous crime, Mr. Attwood,” David replied through clenched teeth. “You can work the rest of your life, and it won’t be enough.”

  “I am still going to try.”

  David painfully pushed himself up from the chair and looked down on Attwood. “You do that. I’ll be in touch once I speak to my superiors.”

  “Of course, Colonel,” Attwood said as he stood.

  Sarno also rose and faced him. “Prime Minister, I will commend you for having the right words. I hope that in time, you have the right spirit as well. True forgiveness comes not from the rest of us, but God. Think about it.”

  Attwood only nodded in reply as Sarno, David, and Calvin began to walk out, slowed by David’s painful gait with the cane.

  37

  A few hours later, David returned to the Lion of Judah. Met by an honor guard led by Master Chief Tinetariro, he came back onboard to much fanfare. A visit to the medical ward, hot shower, and a good meal later, he found himself at least physically refreshed, and able to walk without the cane. After treatment, the physical therapist had given him a range of exercises. He was also told to visit the doctor daily to have additional procedures to his Achilles tendon to ensure it healed properly.

  Finally, back behind his desk in the Lion’s CO’s day cabin, he looked through his messages and the reams of digital paperwork that had piled up in his absence. One note stood out very boldly; an email from General MacIntosh with the subject line of “VIDLINK ME NOW.”

  I need to talk to him about sending additional troops to Monrovia for peacekeeping exercises anyway, so I’d better get this over with. David punched up the vidlink interface and sent a request to MacIntosh. The unsmiling face of General MacIntosh filled the screen on his table soon after. “Colonel Cohen. So nice of you to finally get in touch.”

  “I’m going to go with saying that’s sarcasm, General.”

  “You’re damned right it’s sarcasm, Colonel.”

  “Sir, I—” David began before MacIntosh cut in.

  “Stow it, Colonel.”

  At the rebuke, David simply shut his mouth and sat back.

  “What part of the word ‘orders’ do you not understand, son? I specifically ordered you to equip the nuns, send them on their way, and proceed at best speed to your next engagement. Instead… you turn in some bogus leave-of-absence paperwork. Several of your senior officers ended up with you on the planet, again in defiance of my orders, and you brought along a reporter!” MacIntosh yelled, then composed himself. “In what galaxy do you think you can just choose which orders you want to obey and which ones you don’t?”

  “With respect, sir… I’m pretty sure that the Monrovian National Guard soldiers that participated in the religious cleansing of its citizenry will plead they were just following orders and that defense won’t be accepted.”

  “Are you seriously trying to tell me that you equate executing civilians with joining an invasion of a planet?”

  “What I am saying, sir, is that if one of those Monrovians had stood up and refused to go along, we would praise that man or woman as a hero. I stood up to help stop them. I have no regrets. You put me in this seat knowing that my methods are, well, unorthodox. If it costs me my career to know that millions of innocents are safe, so be it.”

  “You and the president are two peas in the same damn pod,” MacIntosh groused. “I wish I had the benefit of being such a doe-eyed idealist, Colonel. But no, that’s not my job. My job is to make sure the Terran Coalition survives. Regardless of the cost, no matter what it takes. Since you’re on your moral high horse, how about we play a little game of what if. What if your unique tactical talents were needed in the battle you weren’t present for? What if Admiral Kartal needed your expertise? What if the League fleet he was facing was stronger than expected? What then, Colonel! Going off half-cocked to save civilians on a planet that’s not even in the Terran Coalition could have caused tens of thousands of CDF soldiers to pay the ultimate price!” />
  David wasn’t entirely sure what to make of MacIntosh’s behavior; this was the first time he’d been on the receiving end of his anger, that was for sure. “General—” he tried to say.

  “I’m not finished yet, Colonel Cohen! This isn’t a game. It’s not an exercise. This war is the real thing, and it’s for keeps. I was there at the first battle of Canaan. I saw how close of a thing it was. Too many good men and women paid the ultimate price to win that battle. The next time I give you a direct order, you will obey it. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Crystal, sir,” David replied, his jaw set and his face taut and angry.

  “Now, what’s the current situation?”

  “The Monrovians have surrendered, sir. A few diehard zealots are holding out, but organized resistance is over. The sisters are mopping up.”

  “Good. Do you have proof that the League supplied them with arms?”

  “Better than that, sir. Most of the advisors they sent along were captured alive. There’s ample proof of the League’s involvement all over the place in this mess. I expect the reporter you mentioned earlier to be broadcasting that all over the galaxy shortly.”

  MacIntosh’s expression softened, just a hair. “Did they work you over too badly?”

  “I’ll survive, sir,” David replied. “They used a pain chair on me… I’ll need some physical therapy for a bit and treatments on my leg. All in all, not too bad.”

  “And mentally?”

  “The idiot interrogating me actually thought he could shake my belief in God,” David said with a smirk. “That’ll be the day.”

  “David, don’t think that I don’t respect your bravery or your drive to do what you think is right. But we’re in the military. You know that.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Anything else I should know?”

  “Well, sir… the interim prime minister has requested the Terran Coalition send peacekeeping forces to help them reform their police and military. He’s also requested our help in bringing everyone connected with the death camps to trial, and eventual membership in the Terran Coalition.”

 

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