by Andrew Beery
The Captain paused to get up from his desk. He was taller than I expected but still not a big man.
“To date son, in the GCP, only three people have seen a brevet promotion to active service during Boot Camp. One is dead. He died last year on a ship like this one… the GCP Heidman. One is the commander of the Marine contingent on this ship. The third is standing in front of me. What I’m telling you son is that you have been handed a rare opportunity to excel. Don’t go looking for trouble the minute you’re facing the south end of a north bound horse. You are a Marine. Trouble will find you on its own.”
What I hadn’t appreciated at the time was that the Captain was trying to get my measure as a man. Was I an exceptionally gifted but angry lout? …or was I a man destined to add to the sum of human achievement? …or did I fall somewhere in between? Our conversation took a series of bizarre twists as the GCP Puller’s Captain tried to answer those questions.
Captain Mueller walked over to the nanite-infused sapphire glass window that graced his office. The ship was tilted in such a way that the window afforded a view of the Red planet.
“I just read something by Stephan Hawking... he was a brilliant theoretical physicist who passed away in the early twenty-first century before all of this.” The Captain waved about the room casually.
The Captain picked up a tablet off his desk. “He wrote… ‘To understand the universe you must know about atoms. About the forces that bind them, the contours of space and time. The birth and death of stars, the dance of galaxies, the secrets of black holes. But that is not enough. These ideas cannot explain everything. They can explain the light of stars, but not the lights that shine from planet Earth. To understand these lights you must know about life...’"
Captain Mueller looked back at me. “Son, I want to ask you a question. There is no right or wrong answer. It’s a personal choice and the answer you give me will never impact how you are treated on this ship. Are you a man of faith?”
I paused before answering. In my admittedly limited experience as a soldier, this type of conversation rarely came up in briefings. “Suppose I am sir.”
“Are you comfortable enough in your belief to explain why?”
The short answer was no. I didn’t like talking faith and religion and all that mumbo-jumbo. I was of the belief that mankind had, by-in-large, taken something that should have been good and used it to pervert and do harm. I had a feeling though that this conversation was going somewhere and that if I wanted to know where I needed to keep it going.
I cleared my throat and gave the Captain my best off-the-cuff scientific explanation for the existence of a divine being. As I was speaking I realized I actually did believe in what I was saying.
“Sir, the more complex a system is the more potential it has to interact with those things around it. We are more complex than a sheet of paper and we are more complex than a duck. Not surprisingly, we interact with our environment more than either. The physics of n-dimensional space… space beyond our four dimensions almost demands something greater than ourselves… An Uncreated Creator if you will.”
Captain Mueller nodded. “But nothing about good or evil? This ‘Uncreated Creator’ to whom you refer could be malevolent. Perhaps he created houseflies just so he could watch people pull their wings off.”
I shook my head. “No sir, I don’t believe that and, if you will forgive me for saying so, neither do you.”
Captain Mueller raised an eyebrow. I heard Red take a slight intake of breath. Maybe I had just crossed an unseen line. I’ve always been the type of guy that needs, at a fundamental level of my being, to test the boundaries. Today would be no different.
“Explain yourself Ensign.”
“Sir, you are serving as the Captain of a starship for a Galactic Coalition whose expressed purpose for existence is to secure, promote and protect the common good. The operative word is ‘good.’ I watched my home and planet wiped out by a great evil. It put me in a bad place for a long time. I accomplished nothing while I was in that place. I choose, Sir, to believe that I can be part of an organization that can be a force for good. I want my life to mean more than the sum of breaths that I took while living.”
Captain Mueller seemed satisfied with my answer. He put the tablet he had been reading back on his desk. He pointed to it while speaking to me.
“This brilliant man for whom I have the greatest respect is correct as far as he goes. That said, as a man of both science and faith, I know the explanations we, as humans seek, must and often do, transcend where logic can take us. The Lord I follow said ‘I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.’”
The Captain looked me straight in the eye. “Life, Ensign Stone, is a very rare and precious gift. As an officer in the Marine Corps you will be charged with protecting, preserving and upon occasion… taking life. You need to take seriously your responsibility to know which of the three is paramount at any given time. I believe you have it in you to be great. Do not disappoint me.”
After a few more encouraging words the Captain briefed me on what to expect over the next few days. The recruits currently on Mars would reclaim their makeshift billets in the Puller’s main cargo hold. The Puller would then be breaking orbit and heading for Hupenstanii space.
Once there, we would meet up with a contingent of Hupenstanii Marines for joint exercises. I would be working closely with Lieutenant Havastraw who would be functioning in the role of mentor and advisor. I would be reporting directly to Commander Savage who was the officer in charge of the Marines on the GCP Puller. My duties would include overall command of the four training brigades from New Parris Island. I would be coordinating their activities with those of the active duty Marines. In short, newbie and experienced would be thrown together and my job was to make sure they mixed well.
It was expected that the recruits would be joining their Hupenstanii equivalents for some of the exercises. I was looking forward to meeting the Hupenstanii. I led a somewhat sheltered life and had never met an alien of any type. Part of my job would be to insure the recruits… my recruits… were aware of differences in cultural norms and would not needlessly give nor take offense when none was intended.
We had just under a week to get ready. Four of those days would be spent traveling to the far reaches of the Sol system so we could execute a hyperfield jump to the Hupenstanii system. The remaining three would be traveling from the outer reaches of Hupenstanii space to their home world.
Eventually the Captain wound down his review of what was expected and I was dismissed to report to Commander Savage. On the way down to Marine country, which is what Red called deck four on the Puller because that is where the Marines assigned to the Puller had their billets and workout facilities, Red confided that in all the time he had been serving on the Puller he had never heard the ‘old man’ spend more than two minutes talking to anybody.
The fact that he had taken fifteen minutes to take my measure and personally brief me must mean something… the question was I was forced to ask myself was ‘what did it mean?’ It turned out I didn’t have long to wait to get my answer…
Chapter 19: Hazing…
Commander Savage reminded me of a hairless grizzly bear only not as adorable. Think big, intimidating, mountain of meat… and you pretty much nailed it. Despite his muscular bulk, or maybe because of it, he had an infectious sense of humor and a perpetual twinkle in his eye.
He was of American Indian descent and was virtually hairless. He kept his head shaved to a short white stubble which added to the man’s mystique… that and the impressive collection of oversized weapons he had mounted on a board behind his desk. He had everything from a WWII bazooka to a state-of-the-art hand-held plasma cannon strapped to that wall.
I entered his office and immediately came to attention and saluted. Commander Savage raised a single eyebrow.
“Red, did I not tell you to house-train any new puppies you brought home?
”
Red rubbed his chin. “Yeah Doc you did. I guess I forgot the whole saluting thing.”
Commander Savage stood up from behind his desk. He was almost seven feet tall. His physique was so perfectly proportioned he could have easily passed for being a foot shorter. It was only when he stood next to someone else that you realized how big the man was. In fairness, I was a bit jealous. I’m a big guy and I’m proud of the shape I’m in but Doc was huge!
With his bronze skin and white skullcap haircut he reminded me of a fictional character I had read about once… For a few seconds I struggled to place it. When it finally hit me it was like a load of bricks.
“Doc Savage,” I said in awe.
“That’s me,” the Commander said with a grin as he folded his arms in amusement.
“As in the ‘Man of Bronze’,” I continued.
The Commander’s eyebrow went back up. “Red, I do believe we have a book reader here.”
Red shook his head in disbelief. “It is shocking what they will let into the Corps these days,” he answered with his own grin.
Doc clapped me on the shoulder and told me to have a seat. His office had a simple plain table with a computer screen and four dura-steel chairs. I took one of these while Red took another. The commander spoke into the air. “Kitty, get your anal orifice in here… chop chop!” I had always heard Marines, were by nature, a crude bunch. ‘Doc’ Savage and his band of merry misfits did not disappoint.
A second later a Lieutenant Anderson made her way into the office. She was the shortest Marine I had ever seen. She was by no means petite though. I was quite sure she would be a lot of fun to wrestle… but I was by no means confident that, even with a lot more training, I would have ever been able to take her. I’ve seen wild mountain lions that didn’t look as dangerous.
Doc looked at me and raised an eyebrow. “I don’t even know what to call you at this point. You got a handle son?”
Before I could answer Red offered “We should call him ‘Young Padawan’.”
I gave Red what I hoped was a sufficiently dirty look and said to the commander, “My friends call me AG.”
“He’s got some fight in him. I like that. Not hard on the eyes either,” Lieutenant Anderson said.
“Down Kitty,” Doc said. “Word has it… he isn’t even house-trained yet.”
***
It didn’t take me long to figure out where in the pecking order I fell. Red was ordered to introduce me to all the officers and noncoms. Each one insisted of seeing what I was made of. I suspected this was some sort of hazing ritual. Scratch that… I knew it was a hazing ritual. As such there was nothing to be done about it other than to endure it.
I was sent to get everything that needed getting. As just one of many examples, I was sent to grab ‘linear graphite dispensers with reverse-articulated, self-attenuating, vulcanized mitigation devices’. Later, having returned with some pencils (complete with erasers) I was sent by another officer to fetch a ‘dunsel.’ This time I had less luck finding one of these. I had no idea what a dunsel was and the ship’s computer was no help. When, after much searching and fruitless investigation, I begrudgingly admitted a lack of success to the Marine combat engineer that had sent me after the part in question… he just laughed… and told me not to sweat it… he had all the dunsels he needed. To this day I have no idea what a dunsel is.
The one good thing about the day’s adventures was that I got to walk the entire width and breadth of the ship. Truth be told… I suspect that was the point of the exercise.
Red informed me that nights in our bunks that the first week would be the worst… but not to sweat it because things would just go downhill from there. Great, I thought. I can hardly wait.
***
The next day the Marine recruit trainees finally arrived. They had been delayed for a day at the request of Captain Mueller because Commodore Kimbridge had asked the Puller to install some upgrades. I had no idea what the upgrades were but I was sure I would be the first to find out if and when I needed to know.
It’s funny how in life you can look back at some points in your life and say… ‘Wow did I ever get that one wrong!’… I didn’t know it yet but this was one of those times.
Senior Drill Sergeant Harris was the first off the shuttle. I started to raise my arm to salute but Red grabbed it lightly before I could finish raising it. Right, I thought. I’m an officer now and the Drill was a noncom. As I relaxed my arm Red took two steps back. He was once again functioning in his role of mentor.
Sergeant Harris walked up to me and executed a smart salute. I returned it just as crisply.
“Permission to come onboard Ensign.”
“Permission granted,” I responded. “Welcome to the Puller Senior Drill Sergeant.”
Sergeant Harris’ lips twitched slightly before he regained his business-like composure. “I see you have already hooked up with the less reputable elements onboard the ship,” he said with a nod towards Red.
“Good to see you too, Dad!” Red came over and went to shake the Drill’s hand before pulling his arm wide to hug the man instead. To my amazement the Drill hugged him back.
“Good to see you son. Have you been showing our young prodigy the ropes?”
“Son?” I said by way of question.
Red grinned. “Did I forget to mention Sergeant Harris is my stepdad?”
“I do believe you did… forget… to mention it,” I replied dryly.
“That hurts,” Red quipped.
“Truth often does,” I answered with a grin.
Getting back to business I turned to Red’s stepdad, Senior Drill Sergeant Harris… It was going to take me some time to wrap my head around that one.
“Senior Drill, the Puller has received a shipment of Mark Three Tactical Armor Combat suits. As soon as the men have set up their temporary billets here in the cargo bay I’ll need twenty men to help move and distribute them. We have only a few days to get comfortable with the differences between the Mark Twos and the Mark Threes.”
“Is twenty men enough Sir?” Sergeant Harris asked.
“More would be quicker,” I agreed, “but the Puller’s corridors are somewhat busy. Twenty recruits tramping up and down them with Stark suits on is going to be disruptive enough.”
“Very good, Ensign. I’ll detail a squad to assist in the distribution.” He checked his subdural wrist chronograph. “Will 0400 be soon enough?”
That was twenty two minutes from now. I nodded my head. “That would be excellent Senior Drill.
***
The next several days flew by for me. There was nothing like on-the-job training. Sadly while I had a full day just getting training set up for the recruits, I also had Officer Training School classes that Doc insisted I begin.
To add to my fun, there was a lot the recruits were learning that I needed to know in order to be an effective leader. They tended to be little but important things… things like How to care for and maintain a Mark Three Stark suit… things like How to avoid pissing off a three hundred and fifty pound feathered kangaroo… things like How to find and utilize a life-pod should the starship you are flying in becomes disabled. Like I said… little but important things.
We were going to enter Hupenstanii space while I was on a sleep cycle. I was bummed. I had wanted to watch the hyperfield vortex as we jumped from the far edge of the Sol system to the far edge of the Hupenstanii system but I was just too tired. I was operating on four hours of sleep… which in Boot Camp I had gotten used to… but for some reason I found more difficult now. I suspect the difference was that before I was in ‘practice mode’. Everything I did was make-believe. Even the guns we fired and the battles we fought were contrivances. The fact that they were not real took some of the pressure off. By way of contrast, everything I did now was in the real world. If I screwed up now… people could die. This simple truth changes the entire dynamic.
It seemed that my head had just hit the pillow on my bed when there was
a loud thump and the sound of screeching metal… followed by a moment of absolute silence… followed by the emergency klaxon.
This did not feel like an exercise. I flew out of my quarters and ran as fast as my legs could carry me down to the hanger deck. My emergency duty station was with the recruits. The first order of business would be to make sure everybody got into their Starks as fast as possible. If the ship lost hull integrity those suits might very well make the difference... not just for the Marine inside of it but also for the entire ship.
The gravity plating was fluctuating wildly. Every few steps it would flicker which would cause my foot to float off the floor… only to crash back down hard when the plating reasserted itself. The normal bright lighting had been replaced with the harsh red of the emergency systems. I could literally feel the ship shuttering. Whatever was going on, we seemed to be taking a beating.
There were so many people running to various emergency duty stations that it would have been easy to get disoriented and lost. I was thankful I had spent the previous day in a forced exploration of the ship. Intentional or not… it was paying dividends now.
As I approached a corridor that split into a tee I went to turn right. Either direction would get me to the hanger where my people were. Two steps down the corridor and the ship took an especially massive hit. A power conduit blew out, showering the passageway with sparks and an arid odor.
I reversed course but not before popping an access panel and hitting the power bypass. The fire suppression systems were already going to work so I continued to make my way to the hanger using the other passageway.
The entire time I had been trying to raise Red and the others on my commlink. Nothing but dead air and the occasional burst of static. What in the hell had happened?
With one final burst of speed I flew through the hatch into the hanger. I was relieved to see that most of our troops were already in their new Mark Three Starks. Mine was waiting on the rack in the open position ready for me to enter it. As soon as my back settled against the rear shell and my arms settled in their correct positions I activated the suit’s AI and instructed it to seal up.
