by Rod Porter
“And who shall I tell them makes these demands?” it responded snidely.
“Troy Williams of the Unconformed.”
“Processing…” The hologram twitched again. “You have sealed your doom, human. We will end you. Just as we did your wife, your son, and your colony.”
Troy remained calm. He had no idea how it knew so much, but he did not want the troops to see him lose control. “Balls, blow this place to hell.”
“With pleasure.”
All battalions regrouped back at the beach. None of them had found so much as a pistol in the compounds. Suddenly an unexpected voice came over the radio. “Ground team, this is control. Does anyone copy? Over.”
Of the two hundred and fifty plus soldiers involved in the operation, less than forty had survived. They were so dejected they did not even bother to respond to the transmission. Troy did. “Copy, control.”
Troy looked around at the hundreds of dead bodies that were burned and charred from the flamethrowers, riddled with bullets, and ripped to pieces by the giant crab claws. He looked at the ones floating in the red ocean waters and did not even want to relay the terrible situation. Finally, he gathered himself. “We’ve taken the island.”
“Where the hell is command?”
“Just come get us.”
FALLOUT
Troy, and what remained of the Unconformed from the island assault, stepped off the submarine that had brought them back to Jade only to be ambushed by a new kind of enemy. These individuals were gripping pads of paper and pens, while others had tape-recording devices. Troy was the first to step onto the home ground of Jade, which made him the first to have a microphone shoved in his face. Lucky for him that the man these people really wanted to talk to, Jackson Anderson, appeared to have been killed in action.
The crowd of reporters erupted in torrents of chatter. They hurled barrages of questions at the weary soldiers. The Jade Newsroom was the media conglomerate that had apparently been created in the Unconformed’s decreased presence in the city for the past two weeks. Jackson never would have allowed the formation of a media. On many occasions, Jackson had warned Troy that media, like religion, was an unnecessary distraction that could cause problems for overall progress. All the same, a media had been formed, and Troy knew exactly who was responsible for it.
Demoskeena sat behind the Council table with the other members of the War Council and the Quorum. Troy had been selected to sit in General Anderson’s absence. He noticed that the members of the Council and the Quorum had replaced their simple old robes with ones of rather exquisite design and fine stitching. The kind of sewing that his beloved Kara had once…
“Let me first say that we’re very pleased to see those of you who returned from the offensive unharmed.”
Troy saw right through Demoskeena. It had occurred to Troy on the ride back to Jade that he would possibly be sitting in the very seat he was now before the War Council, before the Quorum, and before anyone else in Jade who would seek to use the results of the failed mission to their benefit. Demoskeena now held the position not only as head of the Church and War Council member, but Prime Minister as well. He was now the presiding official of the Quorum and the Church. Troy already had a team of advisors looking into how the Prime Ministry had been created during the Unconformed’s decreased presence in the city for the island offensive.
Troy had pledged to himself that, if he had to become the leader of the Unconformed, he would be an exceptional one: smart, patient, and calculating. Jackson had been a dear friend and a strong military leader, but he lacked diplomatic skills. These skills would be a necessity at some point, and that point was now.
“None of us are unharmed Councilor,” Troy replied coolly.
It irked Demoskeena that he was addressed as councilman and not Prime Minister.
“We lost nearly eighty percent of the troopers we went into battle with,” Troy continued. “Not to mention General Anderson and the rest of the top brass.”
“Nearly eighty percent. That’s quite a list of casualties. Might I ask why you are speaking in the General’s absence? According to records, there are still some remaining brass within the military.”
The elder priest had chosen his words carefully. It was no secret that the civilian government wanted the Unconformed to be a military that they could control, as opposed to an independent resistance. Troy recognized the need for diplomacy, but he would never allow the Unconformed to turn into a military for Jade’s elite to abuse, so he chose his words carefully as well. “Councilor, I don’t see how that’s relevant. The…Resistance has designated me to debrief the Quorum and the War Council on the events of the assault. Either I am sufficient to represent the Unconformed in this debriefing, or there isn’t one.”
“Trooper Williams, how can-”
“Eighty percent!” Demoskeena was not about to let another Council member speak. This was his moment to shine. “Heavy casualties for an operation that we were told would be an overall success; monumental, in fact, I believe, was General Anderson’s word. This was supposed to be a more crushing defeat to the aliens than the prison break. Would you agree with that?”
“I’m not sure I understand the question.”
“Was this mission a success?”
The room got eerily silent. These sessions were open to the general public, and there were hundreds of citizens present. Some were anti-Unconformed and some were not. All of them were waiting for a reply. Many had come to decide where their loyalties lay between the Church, the resistance, and the Quorum, and Troy knew that those loyalties hinged on his every syllable.
“We did not find any weapons or technology on the island. We sustained heavy losses, as you have pointed out.” Troy felt the momentum and the room slipping away from him. “But this mission established a first contact with the invaders.”
“First contact?” was all a Council member other than Demoskeena could get in edgewise.
“That’s correct. We established contact with one of the higher echelons of the alien structure, referred to as the queen. This queen acknowledged that she was commander of a hive, which we interpret to be an alien battalion or regiment of some kind. In all likelihood, one of many.”
“And you have proof of this encounter?”
“We do. The entire conversation was recorded.”
The statement produced an outburst of murmuring in the crowd-so much that Demoskeena had to slam his gavel down on the table to restore order.
“Then, Trooper Williams, we will need it submitted to this Council.”
“No.” The room fell silent again.
“Excuse me?”
“The resistance is not in a position to hand over the transmission yet. It needs further analysis by our people before we hand it over to anyone. The potential sensitivity of the information is grave, and we cannot afford to have it tampered with or used for the wrong purposes. You’ll get it when we deem appropriate.”
Demoskeena leaned forward in his chair. “Trooper Williams, I was hoping that these proceedings would be a little more productive. After all, this Council supported the offensive.”
“This Council never supported the offensive. This Council never supported the prison assault.” Troy’s voice began to rise. “If it were up to this Council, and this Quorum, we would never leave Jade, never emerge from our underground tunnels and our underground homes to rightfully reclaim what’s ours. The resistance is committed to restoring this planet to human beings. We may not have defeated the enemy yet, but we are committed to that end. The Unconformed refuse to lie down to the aliens, and we refuse to lie down to any bureaucratic agendas that would limit our people to nothing more than talking rats that scurry underneath the ground, too scared to challenge their oppressors. So we were handed a defeat in one battle. This is war!” Troy paused to soak up the silence and let the three-letter word resonate. “And it seems while we are at war with the enemy, the Council and Quorum are engaged in self-preservation. General And
erson may have irked some with his refusal to be diplomatic. I am open to all forms of negotiation, of compromise or progressiveness. But there is a difference between diplomacy and being a puppet on the end of a string. We can defeat the aliens, but only together. When the Council and the Quorum are ready to work together with the Unconformed, when we are all united in our plan of attack, as opposed to divided, then we will have our victory. Because divided, as the Quorum and certain others would have us, we cannot win this war. The only way to regain what we have lost and provide a safe and happy future for our children and theirs…is together.”
When Troy was through talking, he sat back in his chair. He was met with open silence. Until someone started clapping. Followed by another person, and another, and another. Until the entire audience was on its feet, clapping and cheering Troy’s words. All Demoskeena and the politicians could do was glare across the room at him. Demoskeena was furious as Troy stood up and walked out of the room to thunderous applause. The priest had recognized Troy’s intelligence, but he had thoroughly underestimated his grasp of politics. He would not make the same mistake twice.
Troy now commanded fierce loyalty among the resistance fighters, and they kept the crowds at bay as the citizens tried to touch him and shake his hand before reaching the exit. Troy’s heart pounded as he headed for the doors. The people were genuinely inspired. They shouted words of encouragement and approval at him, telling him that they loved him and would pray for the Unconformed. The media and reporters asked whether he was the new General of the military, but he did not answer questions and made it to the exit. Hopefully Jackson would have been proud, because it hurt too much to think of what Kara would have thought.
ASSESSMENT
Troy spent the following days checking up on the Unconformed soldiers. Most of his time was spent in the infirmaries. Jade’s medical staff and capabilities were impressive, considering the times. Their equipment was excellent, and their knowledge was even better. With hundreds of soldiers killed in the last failed offensive, the dozens that were wounded seemed trivial in comparison-but not to Troy. He made it a point to visit with every single soldier that was in the hospitals. Since his performance in front of the Quorum and the War Council, Troy had been elevated to celebrity status, and he had security escorts with him wherever he went.
The soldiers were in bad shape, for the most part: missing limbs, charred flesh from third degree burns, irreversible injuries from internal bleeding. They bucked up the minute Troy came to visit them. The experience created a bond between Troy and his people. Of all the visits he made, the most curious was to the mysterious pilot who had aided them in the offensive. The team Troy had sent to rescue the pilot from the crash site had been successful.
“What’s your name?” Troy asked at the foot of the woman’s hospital bed.
“Myriad.” Her voice was weak with fatigue. Troy had assigned a personal doctor to oversee her recovery, and the doctor’s report was positive. Myriad had sustained serious injuries from the crash, but they were not long-term: concussion, broken foot, broken leg, and some fractured ribs.
“Good to finally meet you. The doctor says you are going to make a full recovery. How do you feel?”
“Terrible, sir, but I heard I got that sniper on the mountain, though?”
“You saved our asses, Myriad.”
“Good,” she said.
“Well, Myriad, we have much to discuss, but I will let you get your rest. When you are released, I expect you to come see me.”
“I want to be in the resistance,” Myriad blurted out. “I know I’m not a citizen here or anything like that, but…”
“I’d say you’ve earned your stripes.”
It did Troy good to see Myriad’s face light up. He turned with his escorts and headed for the exit.
“One more question,” he said, turning back around. “Where the hell did you learn to fly like that?”
“You should be more concerned about whether or not I can teach others to fly like that. Sir.”
Troy gave her a reassuring smile. “Rest up,” he said. “We’re going to need you.”
DEBRIEFING
“We have contained the political backlash of the failed offensive for the moment, thanks to the public proceedings with the War Council and the Quorum. Make no mistake, though, the Church has nearly tripled in size, and there are many members that do not appreciate us being at odds with its leadership. In light of the events of the last conference, we must understand that the Council and the Quorum delegates will side with Demoskeena and the Church over us. The failure of the island offensive has sapped our momentum.”
Troy had not slept in days. As the new unofficial leader of the resistance, he had prepared for what his new position would entail. Jade was a different city from when he left for the island assault. One of the many new groups within the Unconformed was a small team of political analysts. It still amazed Troy that he had gotten all his political savvy from books owned by Jackson, who had seemed to have no tolerance for diplomacy.
“Understand, sir, the Church and their members are not pleased with us right now, your tough stance with Demoskeena being the focal point of that hostility.” Major Rawlings had been personally selected by Troy, with recommendations from some of the remaining officers. It was clear that he had been the right choice to head the analysts.
Joining Troy at the table was what remained of the Unconformed’s leadership: three lieutenants, three majors, and one captain. None had opposed Troy being the heir apparent-some because they admired his efforts in the offensive, others because they revered his iconic status with the troops, and others because they did not want the responsibility of the coming storm with the ever-expanding government.
“Where are we with the recording of the hive queen, Major?” Troy asked.
“Sir, it is simply not there. Whatever footage was captured was either erased or…I can’t explain it, sir.”
“Well, there goes a nice bit of leverage over the Prime Minister.”
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“Major Cartwright.” Troy had wondered whether the Major would harbor ill will about Troy seizing command of his battalion during the island offensive. On the contrary, Cartwright had proved to be the most enthusiastic of Troy’s new officers. “I’d like to commend your battalion once again for branching off and rescuing the downed pilot.”
“Thank you, sir. How is she recovering?”
“Nicely. And right now she is invaluable. The hospital is aware that her recovery is top priority.”
“Sir?”
“We need planes, Major. You saw her maneuver that rickety old thing during the attack. Imagine what she could do with a fighter jet?”
Major Hicks was bitter about the change in command, but Troy knew that Major Hicks did not want the responsibility of spearheading the new challenges the Unconformed were facing. “That is a tall order, sir,” said Hicks. “This girl may be good with a plane but it makes no sense to waste time and resources trying to dredge up technology long gone.”
“I have spoken with her, and she has the ability to teach others to fly. Just think of it. We have helicopters, sure, but they aren’t outfitted with any weapons. Imagine us with fighter jets and trained pilots, the Unconformed with its own air force. That Major Hicks, would be invaluable. Our enemy evolves. Why not us?”
Major Cartwright smiled inside. He had always disliked Hicks. “I’m on it, sir. If there are airplanes out there, we’ll find them.”
“Captain Wilson.” Troy addressed another ranking officer. “Any word on command?”
“No, sir. Choppers have combed the sea clean. There is no sign of the ship. It’s as if they vanished into thin air.”
The room got silent waiting for Troy’s reply. It had been a week of searching for the missing vessel.
“Recall your choppers, Captain. As of this moment General Anderson and the rest of those who were aboard the command barge are k.i.a.. With regard to the Church and the
Quorum, they are growing in strength and numbers and we need to as well. People are hungry for a victory, like the prison break again. We need to declare war.”
“We are already at war.”
“No, Major Cartwright. We need to declare a new kind of war, as a species, as a people. We need to rally around a symbol: a flag. Not the flag of the Unconformed, the flag of Earth. We need to accept more recruits, not just people who have proved themselves, but anyone with skills we can use, and if they don’t have a particular skill, we will give them one. We can’t restrict recruits to citizens of Jade any longer. There have got to be plenty of colonies out there filled with people willing to join up.”
Troy let that resonate. No one seemed opposed. “Also,” he continued, “we might not have the actual recording, but I remember clear as day the queen referring to the aliens remaining human enemies.”
“And?”
“And, Major Hicks, that means we are not alone. There are other resistance groups out there.”
“If there are, then they are overseas,” Major Cartwright chimed in. “Any other substantial resistance bodies in this country would already be on our radar.”
“Agreed,” said Troy. “The question is, how do we locate these overseas resistance groups, and how do we get them to ally with us?”
COMMAND
Jackson had washed up along the shores of the ocean, the only remaining member of the command barge that had been stationed at sea for the offensive. He was not sure how long he had been lying unconscious on the beach, but he had become aware of a poking sensation in his back. He tried to flip over and subdue whoever was poking him, but was unable. Perhaps he had ingested too much salt water and his senses were all dazed. Instead of flipping right side up and grabbing who or what was poking his backside, he rolled over clumsily onto his back like a beached whale. A young boy appeared to be the culprit. The child clutched a stick in his hands and stood next to an adult who was holding a nine-millimeter pistol.
