Ghost Company

by Richard Turner

“Right, sir,” replied Cole. “Where to next?”

  “Mister Kadema’s platoon is learning improvised explosive and booby traps. I say we pay them a visit and see how things are going.”

  “I’m sure it’s all going off with a bang.”

  Sheridan let out a groan and shook his head. “Your puns are getting worse. Do you save them up to use when you see an opening?”

  Cole smiled. “Maybe.”

  26

  The heat from the sun, hovering above the heads of a column of soldiers dressed in full-fighting order as it marched back toward its camp, was the hottest it had been in weeks. With their packs filled with ammunition and field equipment, an extra thirty kilos of weight was added to each soldier’s sweat-stained back. Yet not a single person fell out of the ranks to take a drink or rest for a few seconds.

  “How are we doing, First Sergeant?” asked Sheridan.

  “Considering we started late last night, I’d say we’re doing pretty good,” replied Cole. Both men’s uniforms were soaked in sweat.

  “Distance to the camp?”

  Cole glanced at the GPS built into his watch. “Just under four klicks, sir.”

  “So we’ve covered forty-one kilometers in just over seventeen hours. That’s not too bad.”

  “To be honest, I thought we would have lost ten to fifteen percent of the people by now. I guess no one wants to be the first person to admit they can’t do it.”

  “Time to see what they’re made of. Please fall back to the rear of the column and pick up any stragglers.”

  Cole nodded and stepped to one side to let the column move past him.

  “Company, change to double time— double time!” yelled Sheridan over his shoulder.

  Dust stirred by four hundred feet swirled in the air as the column began to jog along the desert trail. The rhythmic pounding of the soldiers’ feet as they ran in step echoed off the walls of a rocky canyon they were passing through.

  Sheridan kept the pace slow but steady. At the front of a column it was easy to fall into the trap of picking up the pace. However, the people at the back would end up sprinting to keep up. Soon, the company would resemble a human accordion, moving together and apart as the soldiers struggled to keep up.

  Twenty minutes later, the front gates of the camp appeared in the distance. Sheridan could feel the mood of the column change. People who had been struggling to keep up suddenly became almost giddy at the thought that the long and arduous march would soon be over.

  From behind, Sheridan heard Second Lieutenant Morgan call out, “Okay, second platoon, let’s move!” He turned his head to see Morgan’s platoon break ranks. With the young officer in the lead, the soldiers sprinted past the other platoons in the company.

  “With me,” yelled Lowassa, leading his platoon in a chase to catch up with Morgan’s people.

  In seconds, Sheridan was passed by the rest of the company as they dashed forward, trying to be the first platoon to reach the front gates.

  “Come on, sir,” said Cole, grabbing him by the arm. “I’m not going to let a bunch of snot-nosed kids beat me.”

  With their legs pumping as fast as they could, the two friends joined the headlong rush. The MPs at the gates saw the mass of soldiers rushing out of a cloud of dust at them and yanked the gates open just as the first soldier from Morgan’s platoon ran inside.

  Sheridan and Cole managed to catch up with the rest of the company and arrived in the middle of the pack. They moved out of the way to let the rest of their men finish the impromptu foot race.

  The mood among the soldiers was ecstatic. They cheered and patted each other on the back. The soldier who had won the race was hoisted up into the air by his peers. Sheridan heard them calling out the word for morning prayers. The man had a smile on his dust-covered face at the prospect of reading from the Kurgan Holy Book with Komada.

  “In my day, we would have won a bottle of Scotch, not a chance to read the scriptures,” quipped Cole.

  Sheridan slipped his pack off his back. Right away, he felt lighter. “First Sergeant, please re-impose order on the company.”

  “With pleasure,” replied Cole. “Okay, the fun and games are over. Form up or there’ll be no time for evening prayers.” He had learned that threatening to take away time from prayer was the best inducement to get the soldiers to do what he wanted them to do.

  There was a mad scramble as the platoons sorted themselves out.

  “That’ll do,” said Sheridan as he looked over at the soldiers. His voice became stern. “In combat you can never run off and do as you please. That is how people get killed. Tomorrow we begin company-level battle drills. I expect my orders to be followed to the letter. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, sir!” cried out two hundred voices.

  “Having said that, you are to be congratulated on your performance. Twenty-five kilometers over broken terrain without a single soldier falling out is amazing. You have exceeded my expectations. Platoon leaders, carry on.”

  The four platoon leaders came to attention and saluted Sheridan. He returned their compliment before walking over to pick up his pack.

  “If we hurry, we can beat them to the showers before they drain all the hot water,” said Cole.

  Sheridan broke out into a sprint.

  A refreshingly cool breeze blew through the camp as Sheridan, Cole, Tarina, and Wendy sat down for a quiet supper meal by themselves.

  “Is it true that Major Onaedo is coming to visit you tomorrow afternoon?” Tarina asked Sheridan.

  “Yes, it is. I wonder where you got that info from,” he replied, eyeing Cole.

  Cole looked away as he chewed his food.

  “Do you know if she’s bringing us our orders?” asked Tarina.

  “She didn’t say. Everything about Operation Olympic is being tightly controlled.”

  “If she is coming to tell us our part in the upcoming mission, do you trust Komada enough to let him know what is going on?” asked Wendy.

  Sheridan shook his head. “When I do find out, it’s going no further than the four people in this tent.”

  “What about the platoon leaders?” asked Cole.

  “They’re too close to their soldiers. I can’t rule out that there still could be Kurgan agents among the volunteers. Secrecy must be maintained at all times, or this will all be for naught. The platoon leaders along with the rest of the company will find out only after we have made our jump toward Kurgan space.”

  “I guess you can’t be too careful when it comes to operational secrecy.”

  Sheridan placed his knife and fork down and looked over at the two women. “Ladies, you’ve had about a month to see the platoon leaders in action. I know how First Sergeant Cole and I feel about them. I’d love to hear what you think of them.”

  “Ensign Jones is a smart and resourceful young officer,” said Wendy. “Having said that, it’s a good thing she’s in company headquarters and not with a rifle platoon.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “She still thinks and acts like an analyst. I rarely see her give an order and if she does, it is through her sergeant. She hasn’t taken the mental step from crewman to officer. I think it’s time for her to lose her safety net.”

  Sheridan nodded. “Cole and I agree. Her sergeant will be assigned camp duties effective tomorrow morning.”

  “The only other person I’ve had a lot of interaction with is Second Lieutenant Kadina. His platoon is coming along okay . . . I guess. I’m not an infantry officer, so I can’t really say if they are at the level you expect them to be. The one thing I have noticed is that he’s a lot like Jones. He’s not comfortable giving orders.”

  “Once again, another spot-on assessment,” said Sheridan. “It’s obvious that Mister Kadina is more comfortable behind a fire-control computer than being out front leading his men. I’d love to replace him with someone else, but it’s too late for that. I’ll have a chat with him tomorrow and try to encourage him to take charge of his
platoon.”

  Tarina cleared her throat. “Lowassa and Morgan are your typical infantry type-A personalities. Everything is a competition between them and their platoons. For young officers, they seem competent enough. They’re a bit too gung-ho for my liking.”

  “I’d rather have to rein them in than push them to do their jobs.”

  “What about Miss Robinson?” asked Cole.

  “She’s the diamond in the rough,” responded Tarina with a smile. “The secondary role of combat engineers is to act as infantry and she’s doing a bang-up job if you ask me. I’ve seen the way her soldiers look at her. They seem to hang on her every word. I’m sure if she told them to follow her into the gates of hell, they’d willingly go with her.”

  “I have to agree, she’s doing great work,” said Sheridan. “Lowassa and Morgan are doing exactly what I would expect from them. Robinson, however, is the quiet professional among the lot of them.”

  Tarina looked Sheridan in the eyes. “Michael, if we do go into battle, your headquarters is lacking some of its key personnel. Don’t you think that’s dangerous?”

  “Cole and I talked about this a few weeks back. I asked Onaedo for some battle-tested officers to be cut to us to fill those gaps and was politely told to make do with what I have, and so I shall. Tarina, effective immediately, you are now my company second-in-command. Wendy, you will be the company operations officer, and First Sergeant Cole, naturally, will be the company sergeant.”

  Tarina and Wendy exchanged surprised looks.

  “Ladies, it only makes sense. You may not be in the infantry, but you’re both as tough as nails and know how to handle yourselves in stressful situations. When you’re not working on your ship, I’d like you to join us for some training so you can get a feel for how things operate at company level.”

  “That shouldn’t be a problem,” said Tarina. “We fixed the only outstanding issue we had with the ship’s jump engine yesterday, so we can come out for training tomorrow.”

  “Good. We’re doing a ten klick hike in the morning followed by some trench-clearing drills by the platoons. It’ll give you a chance to see how far the Chosen volunteers have come in a month.”

  Wendy leaned over and whispered in Cole’s ear. “This march, it’s after breakfast, right?”

  “We form up at zero-four-hundred,” Cole whispered back.

  “You have to be kidding. There’s no such time!”

  “How are you doing, Sarran?” Sheridan asked Onaedo as he welcomed her to the camp.

  “My goodness, it’s hot down here,” she said, wiping her brow with a handkerchief.

  “There aren’t too many air conditioners to be had out here in the middle of nowhere.”

  “Still, I’m happy to be away from the rest of the planning team for a few hours. We’ve gone over dozens of contingency, branch, and sequel plans so many times that I can’t close my eyes without thinking about what we’ve discussed that day.”

  Sheridan saw that she was moving slower than the last time they met. “Is your leg bothering you today?”

  “Yeah, some days it hurts worse than others.”

  “If you don’t mind me asking, how did you happen to lose your leg?”

  Onaedo smiled. “It’s funny. People always act as if they’re intruding on some part of my private life when they enquire about my leg. I lost it to a mine on Galatin-3.”

  “Why don’t you use a robotic leg in its place?”

  “I’m one of those people they talk about when they discuss statistics. You know, like only one person in a million will reject the use of a robotic limb. My body, for some reason the doctors can’t explain to me, doesn’t like being wired to a mechanical leg. It’s not the end of the world. I still get around . . . just a little slower than the rest.”

  Sheridan escorted her to his quarters where they took a seat at the one desk in the tent. He poured them both a tall glass of cold water while Onaedo dug out her computer from her backpack and placed it on the table.

  She turned her computer on. A few seconds later, the image of a planet appeared on the screen. “Michael, this is Ke-12, one of a dozen moons orbiting a gas giant, in the Kelkaden system. While the task force’s main effort will be focused on the Kallen system, your mission will be to land undetected on Ke-12 and destroy a small maintenance facility located there. As this moon is on one of the Kurgans’ known transit routes, this raid should have an adverse effect on their ability to repair their equipment damaged in battle. Yours will be one of more than two dozen raids being conducted simultaneously, forcing the Kurgans to keep their forces spread out and vulnerable.”

  Sheridan studied the image on the screen. The moon was a third larger than Earth’s moon and appeared to be covered by forests.

  “Your objective is here,” said Onaedo, bringing up a small red dot on the surface of the moon. “As you can see, the moon is in its winter period right now. The average temperature during the day is minus ten Celsius. At night, it can drop down to just below minus twenty. You won’t be there that long, so the cold shouldn’t be a factor.”

  Famous last words, Sheridan thought to himself. “Is there a Kurgan garrison on the moon?”

  “From intelligence intercepts, it is assessed that no more than thirty second-rate Kurgan reservists are present. As they are guarding a rarely used maintenance facility, their level of readiness is probably sub-par. Your Ghost Company should be able to overrun the base with a minimum of casualties.”

  “Do we have any backup?”

  “The Canberra Battle Group will be operating nearby. Should you run into trouble, they can have fighter-bombers at your location within an hour.”

  “We could all be dead in an hour,” said Sheridan, unimpressed with the lack of close support.

  “You shouldn’t need their help anyway. I chose this mission for you because of the low threat threshold present on the moon.”

  “Sarran, on paper it may look like I have a reinforced rifle company full of trained soldiers, but the truth is somewhat different. My officers and I did all we could with them in the six weeks we had to train them up. But they are still far from ready. The only positive thing I can say is what they lack in experience, they surely make up in enthusiasm.”

  “I knew you’d feel this way. That’s why you’re being given the easiest assignment we could come up with.”

  “Thanks, but we’re going to need some augmentation. I’m still waiting on the four medics I requested a month ago. Any idea when they’re coming to me?”

  “Medics are in short supply. Michael, you have to understand, everybody wants them. I’ll speak again with Captain Killam as soon as I get back to the Intrepid. Hopefully, we can get you some people in two or three days’ time. Get used to the idea that because our mission has been deemed to be low risk, you may only get a couple of corpsmen assigned to you.”

  Sheridan pursed his lips. “I suppose some are better than none. Also, I’d like a UAV team cut to me right away.”

  “That I think I can do,” replied Onaedo, typing Sheridan’s requests into her computer. “Anything else?”

  “Winter clothes and equipment, but for security purposes, don’t send them to me until the day before we depart.”

  “Okay, anything else?”

  “Yeah. When do we depart?”

  “Thirteen days from today. You and the rest of the raiding parties will hit your objectives twelve hours before the fleet arrives in the Kallen system.”

  Sheridan chuckled.

  “What’s so funny?” asked Onaedo.

  “Why thirteen days? Couldn’t you have briefed me a day from now? I know a certain First Sergeant who will see nothing but doom and gloom around the number thirteen.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that. Sorry. Michael, one last thing. Fleet would like Komada to see how many Chosen soldiers and citizens at the facility he can get to surrender and come over to our side peacefully.”

  “Wait a minute,” said Sheridan. “Are you restrict
ing my rules of engagement?”

  Onaedo shook her head. “No. You still have the right of self-defense. It would, however, be preferable if you didn’t have to fire on them to get them to surrender.”

  Sheridan could feel his temper rising to the surface. “Sarran, did you come up with this idiotic notion, or did this come from higher?”

  “It was in the planning directive given to me by Captain Killam. If he got it from the staff back on Earth, he never told me, and I never asked. We’ve discussed this already, there are people back at the Armed Forces Headquarters who want to see what Komada is capable of doing.”

  “I’ll speak with Komada and see if he can come up with a psy-ops plan. But I’m not promising not to fire on anyone who interferes with my mission. The safety of my soldiers will always come first.”

  “Naturally.” Onaedo closed her computer and put it back in her pack.

  Sheridan stood and offered her his hand.

  “I can get up on my own,” said Onaedo.

  “I know. But a certain captain in my team would not think highly of me if I did not offer to help.”

  Onaedo smiled as she took his hand. “How is Miss Pheto doing these days?”

  “Fine. However, I think she liked it better when we didn’t have to work so close together.”

  “You can tell her from me that the current arrangement won’t last forever. Once we’ve gained a foothold in Kurgan space, the Task Force will undoubtedly have to go through a reorganization of some sorts. The chances of you two being kept together will be slim.”

  Sheridan held open the front door of his tent of Onaedo. “I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to hear that.”

  “Here are your orders and the most up-to-date intelligence we have on the Kurgan facility,” said Onaedo as she handed Sheridan a disc. “You can back brief me on your plan when you’re ready.”

  “Give me two to three days to come up with a scheme of maneuver and then I’ll give you a call.”

  Onaedo brought up a hand to block the sun. “From the unbearable heat of a desert planet to the cold of a frigid moon, you seem to get all the fun assignments.”