Indomitable

by W. C. Bauers

  McMaster dipped her head and smiled. “I’ll bear that in mind, Lieutenant.”

  “Ma’am, please accept my apologies. My feelings for the girl may have clouded my judgment.”

  “That’s the first honest thing you’ve said, Lieutenant. You screwed up, and now it’s going to cost you.”

  Promise had the sinking feeling she’d just given McMaster what she’d wanted. Maybe not all of it. But certainly more than enough.

  Thirty-six

  MAY 20TH, 92 A.E., STANDARD CALENDAR, 0751 HOURS

  REPUBLIC OF ALIGNED WORLDS PLANETARY CAPITAL—HOLD

  THE SQUARE, LEVEL 47, REPUBLICAN CENTRAL INTELLIGENCE AGENCY

  Promise entered a utilitarian room with a holotank on one side and a whiteboard on the other. The oblong conference table was as black and smooth as obsidian, with the RCIA’s seal inlaid at the center. At the table’s head sat Commandant Habakkuk Raghavan, the senior officer of the RAW-MC.

  Not good. Promise stiffened when she saw him and the glittery over his chest, which must have weighed a good kilo. Next to him sat a slight gentleman with Asian features wearing a white shirt rolled to the sleeves and jet peppery hair pulled up in a bun. He was middle-aged with an almond-shaped face and as casual in his dress as the commandant was official in his. The jacket discarded over the back of his chair belied the nature of the building they were in and the seriousness of the meeting. On the opposite side of Raghavan sat Lieutenant Colonel Price Halvorsen. McMaster rounded the table and sat beside the only other person in the room wearing plain clothes.

  That explains who he is.

  Halvorsen held up a hand, palm up, indicating that she would stand for the meeting. The gunny came around her and found his chair, and she got the impression that he sat as close to her as he dared. She came to attention and saluted, eyes a regulation three centimeters off the commandant’s right ear, and waited for the other boot to drop.

  “At ease, Lieutenant.” Raghavan came forward and placed both hands on the table, palms down. “I’ll be quick with the introductions. To my left is Assistant Director Cameron Suh of the Republican Central Intelligence Agency.” Raghavan didn’t sound at all pleased. “I believe you know who everyone else is.” Raghavan stared at Promise until she nodded.

  “Very well, then.” He paused for a long moment. “Please tell me, Lieutenant, why are you here?”

  Promise’s eyes flicked to Agent McMaster and then to Raghavan. “I seem to have stepped in it, sir.”

  Raghavan didn’t quite smile; his brows rose slightly. “Explain?”

  “Out in the corridor … a moment ago, Agent McMaster told me I blew her operation and nearly got her killed. Compromised an asset too, all for a little—well, I won’t repeat what she called the girl. All for a young woman who was being trafficked. I’m sorry for blowing the op, truly. But, sir, with respect, I had no knowledge of the operation. I was fighting for my life … and for the girl’s. Her name is Sephora. Frankly, sir, had I known about the agent’s operation, I’m not sure it would have mattered.”

  “Really? Why wouldn’t—”

  “Commandant, you already have my full report,” Agent McMaster said, interrupting the commandant. “Lieutenant Paen was clearly off the reservation and operating without orders. Her actions can only be construed as a dereliction of duty and—”

  Raghavan held up his hand and gave Assistant Director Suh a stern look.

  “Agent McMaster, now is not the time,” said Suh. “Remember your place. You’ve said more than enough already.”

  “But, sirs, I must insist—”

  “Enough.” Suh hadn’t even pitched his voice upward and the look in his eyes could have frozen a company of shock Marines in their mechboots. “Agent McMaster, impatience will not get you where you want to be.” He cocked his head toward Promise. “Lieutenant, you were saying…”

  Raghavan and Suh looked like men who had already made up their minds about her. In her peripheral vision she saw the colonel gently shake his head and McMaster fuming in her seat on the other side of the table. The gunny couldn’t seem to find a comfortable position in his. Promise realized she had everything to lose.

  “It wouldn’t have mattered, sirs, because the girl asked me for help. Not in so many words,” Promise added quickly when McMaster opened her mouth to speak. “She didn’t have to say the words. She said them with her eyes, with the fear on her face. I saw her ‘no’ from across the room. I watched her being sold for the night. I watched her procurer—the man who eventually tried to kill me—grab her arm and force her to go through with it anyway. Her silence might as well have been a scream for help. She didn’t have a choice. I could not, could not stand by and do nothing.” Promise was nearly shaking now. “Apparently, the special agent could.”

  McMaster bolted to her feet. “I will not be spoken to that way!” Her fists came down hard on the polished tabletop.

  “Agent McMaster—sit.” Suh’s face went taut. “Lieutenant, you know nothing of Agent McMaster, or of her past. Your words assume too much and you do her a great disservice. Please think more carefully before you speak again.”

  “Then, sir, may I ask your agent why she said what she did about the girl—” Promise nodded toward the door. “—out in the hall, before we walked in.”

  Suh’s eyes hardened. “Let me do that.”

  “I’ve heard enough.” Raghavan exchanged looks with the assistant director. “Cameron?”

  Suh nodded in agreement. “I’m done here.”

  Raghavan pushed away from the table and stood. “The assistant director and I already discussed this mess before the meeting started, and we agreed then that the lieutenant didn’t act maliciously, nor did she break any laws.”

  Raghavan spoke more for the benefit of the official recording than for her, and while it irked Promise to be talked about as if she weren’t in the room, she also realized that the commandant was going “on the record” in her defense. She took a deep breath and nodded. Thank you, sir.

  “Everything Lieutenant Paen said here today only reinforces my original opinion of this matter. Contrary to Special Agent McMaster’s official charge, Lieutenant Paen did not go off the reservation because she wasn’t under orders … except to get some R and R. She didn’t follow that order very well,” Raghavan said icily, “but that’s not justification for disciplinary action. I can’t fault the lieutenant for rescuing the girl either, even if her methods leave something to be desired. And, as much as I hate to admit it, there’s a time and place for preemptive action.” It really did sound like Raghavan hated to admit that, and Promise wondered whose ears that statement was being recorded for. “Cameron, if you ever quote me on that I will deny having said it to my grave.”

  Suh chuckled under his breath. “Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me. If I was a hawk it might be a different situation.”

  “Thank God for that.” The commandant turned to face the junior agent in the room. “Agent McMaster, I’m not unsympathetic to your position in this matter. Your life was endangered and a critical operation was compromised. You have every right to be angry. However, Lieutenant Paen was off-duty, out of uniform, and operating on her own time, and her actions are protected by our Good Samaritan laws. I can’t very well bust her down for coming to the aid of a fellow human being in need, nor will the RAW-MC tolerate anyone attempting to do so. Have I made myself clear?”

  That was bold, Promise thought. Raghavan wasn’t just speaking as one of the Joint Chiefs. He was speaking as a Marine with skin in the game, drawing a line in the sand that the RCIA dare not cross. He might as well have said, “Paen is one of ours. Come after her at your own peril.”

  McMaster went to speak but Suh cleared his throat, and after a long moment she reluctantly nodded.

  “As for you, Lieutenant, you have a history of rushing head-on into pulser fire, and it has largely served you well. Until now. Sometimes running toward the fight is the best option, sometimes it’s the only option. Teachi
ng Marines to run toward the close fight isn’t easy and you’re to be commended for your bravery.”

  Promise heard the “but” coming and prepared herself for the official reprimand. Her career was going to survive this. She wanted to smile. She wanted to jump for joy and rub Agent McMaster’s face in it. Oh how she wanted to do that. Holding it back almost killed her.

  “But—”

  There it was. Promise held her breath, didn’t dare break eye contact with the commandant.

  “—a proclivity for direct engagement must be counterbalanced with clearheaded thinking and restraint, too. I’ve come to believe the way we’d thrust command upon you—so early in your career and without the opportunity to look, listen, and watch—robbed you of a critical window of learning, which might have taught you the difference.”

  “Sir, if I may.” Colonel Halvorsen raised a hand, palm out. “I’m partially to blame for—”

  The commandant cut him off without saying a word and then turned his gaze back to Promise. “Lieutenant, I suppose I’m to blame as much as anyone. The Corps’s manpower needs are stretched thinly as it is. We’re pushing our best and brightest too fast and I’m as much to blame for that as anyone.” The commandant sighed like the weight of the world lay upon his shoulders. “Lieutenant, I’ll not see your career go down in flames simply because your superiors entrusted you with too much, too soon.

  “That’s why I’m placing you and Victor Company under the command of Captain Sasha Yates. Captain Yates is an outstanding officer and in need of a company and Victor Company needs a seasoned CO.”

  I’m sorry? Promise’s jaw dropped. She couldn’t help looking at McMaster or seeing the vindication on the special agent’s face. Suh met her gaze directly. The sympathy on the commandant’s face only made the situation worse. She didn’t want his sympathy, didn’t need his sympathy. All she felt was raw anger that couldn’t be assuaged. Not until she had the chance to take it out on something … or someone.

  “You’ll still retain your rank in Victor Company as a first lieutenant but you’ll now be the company’s second-in-command. That’s really how it should have been all along, particularly for someone so young in grade. Because of our manpower shortages, we’ve far too many lieutenants serving in captains’ billets. Thankfully, Captain Yates just became available. You’ll be her XO.”

  I’m second … because you don’t believe I could do the job in the first place.

  “I can only imagine what you must be thinking right now, and what you must think of me. I know that in time you’ll—”

  Disbelief washed over her. Anger followed like an aftershock. Her career had just been nuked and she was standing at ground zero. Her eyes wouldn’t focus and though Raghavan was still speaking she wasn’t comprehending his words. Her body swayed and her hand found the edge of the conference table, enough to steady her. She knew she was going to say or do something that would end her career. Here and now. She imagined slamming Agent McMaster into the wall, which seemed like a good place to start. She’d break a bone or two while she was at it. In her mind’s ear she heard the sickening crunch of calcium and marrow colliding with the bulkhead behind the special agent. She drew great satisfaction as she pictured the agent’s eyes rolling up into her head before she slumped to the deck.

  Promise had not in her wildest dreams considered the possibility that Victor Company would be taken away from her. A verbal reprimand? Certainly. A formal letter of reprimand in her jacket? Maybe. Who was she fooling? Probably. Stripping her of command? No CO would want her after this. The commandant was as good as blackballing her.

  She hadn’t wanted to be an officer in the first place. She’d only accepted the field commission on Montana because the circumstances had been so dire. Had it really been just a year ago? The captain had died in combat. Because of his injuries, the XO, Lieutenant Spears, had needed regen therapy to grow a new leg. Promise had given Spears every conceivable reason why she wasn’t officer material. Why he shouldn’t offer her the field promotion. And there were Gunnery Sergeant Ramuel and the other noncoms in the company with more years of experience. One of them could have stepped into the command gap. To her surprise Ramuel and Spears had endorsed her promotion to the hilt. “You’re my choice, Promise.” The certitude in Spears’s voice had almost made her believe it was true. “Officer material.” And then Victor Company became her company and she was V Company’s CO, and the powers that be had let her keep it after the Battle of Montana. Sent her to Officer Candidate School, and fast-tracked her promotion to first lieutenant.

  Through it all she’d given nothing but her best to the Corps and her unit. She defended her birth world when it was the last place she wanted to be. She’d taken her people into a war-torn hell to repulse an invasion of Lusitanian Marines. Montana should have been a no-win situation. She’d risen to the occasion, against overwhelming odds, when it would have been easy to just back down. Surrender. No one really knew how close she’d come to giving up but her. It still brought her shame to think about it. She knew some of the brass didn’t agree with her decisions. She’d thrown people away, they’d said. Surrendering wasn’t her style. Wasn’t her Marine Corps. Wasn’t worthy of the sterling white beret she wore.

  And this, this … This is grossly unfair. I have, at every turn, done nothing but my duty, I’ve sent women and men to die when I had no other choice, I’ve found a way when no one thought it possible. Now you throw it all in my face?

  “Lieutenant Paen, are you all right?” The voice was distant, distorted by her anger. Her fists balled at her sides, ready to strike out at McMaster. Her eyes shifted to the special agent and she pictured how it would go down. McMaster’s life. Her career. She was rushing toward a choice she would not recover from, and she no longer cared.

  The air around her stirred and a hint of saffron filled her nose and lungs. A familiar voice waded into her thoughts, broke her concentration the way a boulder breaks the flow of a stream. Her eyes grew heavy and closed against her will. She could no longer lash out with rage, because the boulder was in the way. She had to adjust course and steer around it, only she couldn’t because the boulder kept moving and blocking her path. And then it wasn’t a boulder anymore but a lithe tree clothed in soft green. The tree’s limbs reached out to her and took her hands. She felt rough bark and bristles stroke her skin. Then the branches weren’t so rough anymore and the tree changed again, now a woman. She knew that face as if it were her own.

  “I said I’d never leave or forsake you, munchkin. I know you and you don’t want to do this.”

  Striking back is all I have left, Momma. It’s all I know. It’s what I do best.

  “No, it’s not,” said her mother. Sandra Paen was standing in the room now with the commandant and the assistant director and Khaine and Halvorsen and her. She and her mother might as well have been alone. “There’s always another way. Sometimes you have to strike back and sometimes you have to turn your cheek and take the blow.”

  Mom … this uniform … my company … they are all I have left.

  “No, dear. You have your name, and you have the confidence of your Marines, and you have my love. I am proud of you because of whose you are. Mine. Your Montanan Marines are proud of you because of whose you are. Theirs. No one can take that from you. Not Cameron Suh. Not McMaster. Not even the commandant.”

  Fear, betrayal, retribution—they’d all flooded Promise’s soul in near-toxic levels. But their poison wasn’t strong enough anymore. Something else had taken root and was growing deep inside of her. Promise felt it sprout and spread throughout her body. Where it spread, the poison retreated. She fought the urge to lean further on the table for support, because she wouldn’t give McMaster a gram of satisfaction. She clenched her fists tighter still, behind her back where no one could see them. Her vision cleared and where her mother and the stream had been only a moment before now lay a conference table of concerned faces. The gunny was on his feet, coming toward her. She held up her hand
and nodded, and once again obeyed orders that tore her world asunder.

  “Better,” said Sandra Paen, now just a whisper in her mind. “You’ll get through this. Better answer the commandant.”

  “Lieutenant Paen?”

  Thank you, Momma.

  “No need. Now go do what you do best.” The voice faded away but it left behind the assurance that Promise was not alone. She never had been and she never would be.

  “I understand, sir,” Promise said like an emotionless automaton. She came to attention and met the commandant’s eyes directly as her own pooled with tears. “Permission to be dismissed, sir.” The emotion came anyway and Promise looked astern as her vision clouded. A solitary drop slipped out.

  “Permission granted.”

  Promise turned and walked out of the room without another word. Once outside, she quickened her pace to the lift. She heard the gunny call out from behind her. Later, she’d try and fail to remember taking the lift down to the ground floor, passing through the inner and outer checkpoints. She’d vaguely recall saluting a colonel and a two-star and returning the courtesy from juniors and noncoms as she marched down the steps of the outer court. At the bottom of the steps she broke into a run.

  Thirty-seven

  MAY 20TH, 92 A.E., STANDARD CALENDAR, 0812 HOURS

  REPUBLIC OF ALIGNED WORLDS PLANETARY CAPITAL—HOLD

  THE SQUARE, LEVEL 47, REPUBLICAN CENTRAL INTELLIGENCE AGENCY

  Lieutenant Colonel Price Halvorsen stood up and straightened his jacket, brushed something from his sleeve, and turned to leave the room. Demoting Lieutenant Paen like that had surprised him and it wasn’t to his liking, not one bit. He didn’t care for sudden changes in his command structure, particularly with little advance warning.