The surrender chime sounded, and Esther jerked her M99 up, noting her 12% magazine fill. She’d forgotten for a moment the other mercs. But the surrender chime was ingrained in every Marine. She hesitantly lowered her weapon.
“This is Corporal Esther Lysander, United Federation Marine Corps. Who are you?”
“Assistant Leader Cody Fuentes, St. Regis Brigade. I’ve got five, including me, to surrender. One WIA. Do you have a corpsman?”
An assistant leader was roughly the equivalent to a sergeant. As far as Esther knew, the smallest St. Regis unit had a leader, or staff sergeant equivalent in charge.
“We’ve a corpsman inbound,” Esther said as she saw a figure look over the edge of the roof. “Come on down, no weapons.”
“Telly, get down and come cover me. I don’t expect anything, but still, be ready.
“Woowoo, are you mobile?” she asked, noting his light blue avatar.
“Affirmative. Hurtin’ for certain, but alive and kicking.”
Esther let out a sigh of relief. She quickly went over her readout. She had seven effectives, including Woowoo. There were four KIA’s, of which Wells was far beyond resurrection. Then there were two WIA’s who needed immediate medical care.
She called in the medivac, which the lieutenant took without getting in her shit, for which she was grateful. He had to be dying to get her report, but with the prisoners now making their way out of the building, he was letting her do her job. She knew he’d be monitoring her visuals, though.
“Corporal, we are your prisoners. I’d appreciate it if you notify the Red Cross,” the assistant leader said, a man in his thirties.
He had 14 operations hashes on his sleeve, so this man had seen some action. He didn’t seem upset, which seemed odd to her.
“You are the commander?” Esther asked. “An assistant leader?”
“I am now,” he said, tilting his head to where the ruined cannon lay, along with two bodies. “Speaking of which, may we check them?”
Esther nodded, telling Yadry to escort them forward.
She told Telly, who was just arriving, to go tend to their wounded while she reported in. She had just started her report when Yardy shouted out, “Corporal Lysander, I think you need to see this!”
“Wait one,” she told the lieutenant.
What does he want?
She walked over to where Yadry, the St. Regis assistant leader, and one more merc were standing at the edge of the rubble. Instead of looking at the dead mercs, though, they were looking inside the half-collapsed building.
Esther hopped up on a chunk of plasticrete and followed their gaze.
She almost threw up. There were at least a dozen bodies, civilian bodies, lying in the rubble. Esther bounded off her perch and bolted forward. Some of the bodies were half-buried, their blood bright, too bright where it ran through the dust that coated every square centimeter of their skin.
Right in front of her, two figures lay together, the man trying to cover the smaller body of the boy as he vainly tried to protect him. His arm was wrapped protectively around the boy’s head.
Esther didn’t want to look, but something drove her forward. She reached them, knowing what she would see and not wanting to. Slowly, she bent over and grabbed the man’s wrist, folding the arm back. The boy’s face was covered with dust, just the smallest amount of blood leaking out of his nose, but there wasn’t any doubt.
It was the regressor boy from the pink house.
WAYFARER STATION
Chapter 31
Noah
“Alas, I have never found a man worthy of my attention,” Bella Montrose said, her famous eyes glaring hard.
“What a bitch!” Sampson said, throwing a sock through the image.
Bella barely flickered as she turned away and strode off, leaving the Copper Knight to stare at her retreating figure.
“The Copper Knight’s more than worthy enough for you, you bitch,” Sampson added.
Noah agreed with his blunter roommate, but given this was Hollybolly at its best, he figured the Copper Knight would win the lady in the end.
The four roommates were in the racks, and the flick was playing on the small projector platform they’d all pitched in to buy. Most junior Marines watched the holos in the rec center, but with the new projector, the four of them had been binge-watching. “Permian” was the fourth holo in a row that they’d watched, with “Dr. Stumble” next on deck.
Just as the Copper Knight turned to his horse, their hatch chimed.
“We don’t want any!” Turtle said.
The hatch chimed several more times, one after the other.
“Better get it, Turtle,” Noah said. “Pause the flick first.”
Turtle was on the rack below Noah, and with a groan, he got out of his rack and opened the hatch. A newbie from Second Platoon stood outside, a red arm band designating him as the duty runner.
“Oops! The boot’s got on his red flag of shame. It must be official!” Sampson said.
“What do you want, boot? We’re busy,” Turtle said.
“Lance Corporal Lysander, you’re needed in the company office,” he said.
Me? What for?
That they sent a runner to get him was odd. The company clerk could just as easily have sent him a request on his PA.
“What’d you do now?” Sampson asked. “You sneak your girlfriend into the base again?”
“I told you, she works here! I don’t need to sneak her anywhere!”
Noah knew Sampson was just giving him shit. But when the new Alpha Company First Sergeant had seen Miriam and him talking together in one of the supply lockers, he’d turned them both in, not listening to their protests. It had taken 15 minutes to convince him that Miriam worked in the exchange and was only getting new LEDs and that Noah had only followed to help.
He’d received a ration of shit from his fellow Marines, and for a short time, he’d even been nicknamed “Romeo,” something that had almost as quickly fallen out of favor. Truth be told, he’d been mortified when it happened, but now, he almost enjoyed the tiny degree of notoriety. His roommates knew the score, but other Marines might give him the slightest degree of street cred now.
He hoped.
Noah put on his boots and utility blouse, said, “Don’t start the flick again until I get back,” and followed the runner to the company office. A few minutes later, he was outside the company commander’s office, knocking and announcing himself.
“Stand at ease,” Captain Yule said. “This will be out soon, but I wanted to tell you myself. As you know, Bravo Company’s been deployed to Requiem—”
“Is my sister OK?” Noah interrupted, suddenly sure why the skipper had called him in.
“Yes, she’s hurt, but OK. She’s got minor nerve damage, from the report. Didn’t even realize she was hurt at all. She took over when her squad leader was killed. . .”
Sergeant Kinder’s dead?
Noah’s mind was stunned, first with worry about Esther, then relieved, then hearing that the sergeant, who Noah knew fairly well from the gym, had been killed.
“. . .acquitted herself quite well. She’s being put in for an award—which one, I don’t know. She’s scheduled to return at 1515 tomorrow, and we’ll be in the middle of MCAATs at that time, so I’ve asked Captain Loess if you could sit in with Alpha during at 0815. I figured you’d want to meet her when she gets back.”
“She. . .she’ll do regen here?” Noah asked, not sure what else to say.
“No. It’ll be back on Malika. She’ll undergo debrief here before moving on, along with six other Marines. I don’t know how long she’ll be on station, so that’s why I wanted to give you the head’s up.”
“Thank you, sir. I appreciate it.”
“If there’s nothing else, check with Sergeant Guang on when and where for your MCAAT. And when you see her, tell your sister that we’re all proud of her.”
“Aye-aye, sir.”
Now that he knew Esther was
going to be OK, his heart, which had jumped into overdrive, calmed back down. He wasn’t sure Esther would be dying to see him when she arrived, but he was glad the captain had worked it out.
Chapter 32
Esther
Esther waved off the corpsmen who met her at the gate. She didn’t need nor want transport. Along with Woowoo, she stood to the side while the other four Marines were taken out on grav gurneys. She waved to Cat Weis, a PFC from First Platoon, who’d broken her leg and hip in the fight outside Lassiter Crossing. She’s gotten to know the young Marine on the trip back to Wayfarer and felt almost sisterly to her. Weis had a month or two of regen, and Esther was confident that she’d be back strong and ready to go.
Not so with Van Nustern and Dogman. Both Marines had been put into stasis, but Chief Alistair, the independent corpsman assigned to the company for the operation, hadn’t been too confident that either would survive. They, along with the other serious WIAs and the KIAs had been sent directly back to Malika. The six of them who’d first been taxied back to Wayfarer Station would be debriefed, then put on a passenger liner to join their comrades at the Naval Hospital. By evening, they’d be gone.
“Ess, how are you?” Noah said, calling past the gate.
The small passenger hopper had docked at A2, a civilian gate, and the staff wasn’t letting anyone, even a uniformed Marine, get past them.
Despite vowing to improve their relations, Esther felt the tiniest bit of annoyance upon seeing him. He was like a puppy who wouldn’t leave her alone. She made an effort to smile, then waved.
“I’m fine. Just got a tingle. Two weeks at Malika, max, and I’ll be back good as new.
“You ready?” she asked Woowoo.
Woowoo had been hit harder than she’d been. He had damage in both legs and up his back, and he really should be in a grav-chair at a minimum. But his pride wouldn’t let him, and Esther wasn’t going to fight him on that and order him to take a chair. If he could take the pain, then that was his choice.
“You know Lance Corporal Woutou, of course,” she said as the two were scanned and let past the gate.
“Yes, we’ve met,” Noah said, hand out to shake. “And this is Miriam. Miriam Seek Grace.”
Who? And a Torritite? What’s this?
Esther thought the woman looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t imagine why she’d be with Noah. Maybe she was on some civilian staff who met WIA Marines?
Esther shook the woman’s hand, noting that she was not dressed like a Torritite. Her mother’s religion was not very conservative in most ways, but they did tend to dress in muted colors. The young woman standing in front of her was wearing a shocking pink baroness top and turquoise thigh puffs.
“I’m so glad to meet you—formally, that is. Noah’s told me so much about you,” she said.
So we’ve met? And Noah’s been telling you about me? Curiouser and curiouser.
She looked back at Noah, calculating.
“Uh, good to meet you both, but we’ve got to get going. We don’t have much time,” Woowoo said, the strain in his voice snapping Esther back.
“Yes, we’ve got a debrief, then we’re on to Malika,” she said, ashamed that she’d stood there when Woowoo, despite his insistence that he was fine, was hurting.
“OK, we’ll walk you back,” Noah said.
Esther’s leg was aching by the time they made it to battalion, and she was happy to say goodbye to Noah and his good-natured questions on the operation. She gave him a hug, and then she and Woowoo entered the S2 office.
Top Worrel, the S2 chief, looked up as they entered, then said, “There you are. The lieutenant’s down at sickbay looking for you.”
“We’re not there,” Esther said. “We walked.”
“Yeah, I can see you’re not there. I’ve got eyes, Corporal. But you will be there, as soon as your legs can carry you. Am I right?”
“Right, Top. We’re on our way.”
Esther had assumed that the debrief would start with the S2, in his office. She hadn’t considered that the other four Marines wouldn’t be as mobile.
A minute later and a deck below, Esther and Noah were entering sickbay. A couple of Marines were sitting in the seats, awaiting routine sick call. Lance Corporal Fratelli was one of them, and she perked up at the sight of Esther.
“Oh, hi! Corporal Lysander! How’re you doing?”
“Can’t talk,” Esther said as the S3 motioned her over.
Esther was glad of the interruption. She didn’t like Fratelli, who was less than a stellar Marine. A sick-bay commando, she seemed to spend more time trying to get out of work than performing it, and she had taken a liking for Esther, as if the gender-sisterhood would somehow make up for her being a shitbird.
It didn’t.
“Yes, sir?” Esther said as she and Woowoo reached him.
“Corporal Lysander, these are Mr. Van Ploft and Morales. They’ve got some questions for you, and I’d like for you to go with them. When they’re done, Lieutenant O’Hare and I will take care of the rest of the debrief,” he said before turning to the two men and adding, “Gentlemen, please remember that they’ve got a ship to catch. We need to be done by 2045, and both of these Marines need a few moments to gather up some gear.”
Civilian debriefers? What’s going on?
Esther and Woowoo followed the two men back up a deck and into the S3’s office, right next door to the S2’s office where they’d been three minutes prior. One of the men motioned for Esther to enter the major’s office. She didn’t know what was going on, but she gave Woowoo a pat on the shoulder before leaving him.
“Corporal Lysander, I’m Mr. Van Ploft with the NOI,” the man said after Esther had taken a seat.
NOI? Naval Office of Investigation? Why?
“Sir, is something wrong?”
“Oh, no, Corporal. And I’m not a sir. You can call me Mr. Van Ploft or Agent Ploft, whichever you prefer. We’ve just some routine questions for you, strictly routine.”
“But why, sir?”
“Mr. Van Ploft, please.”
“OK, why, Mr. Van Ploft.”
“Just routine, Corporal. We need to ask questions any time civilians are killed.”
Esther’s heart fell. She felt guilty, and the sight of the dead boy had been haunting her for the last three days, invading her dreams when she had been finally able to nod off. But the lieutenant had assured her that she’d done nothing wrong. Assistant Leader Fuentes, as the surviving unit commander, would probably face charges for using human shields, but the Marines, and of course, her, would be held blameless.
“I didn’t know they were there, sir,” she said, not that she really felt that was an excuse.
“Of course. I’ve read the preliminary report. But you know, after the Evolution, we’re trying to heal any rifts within the populace, so we need to gather the facts. It’s just one huge cover-your-ass.
“Richard Van Ploft, Agent 33485, Wayfarer Station, 19 April 408. Interview with Corporal Esther Lysander, United Federation Marine Corps,” he spoke into the room before turning back to face Esther again.
“So beginning when you first started to approach Excel Sun Processing Plant #4, please tell me what happened. Don’t leave anything out.”
Esther took a deep breath, calmed her nerves, and started talking. She tried to remember everything as she related each event, each observation. Mr. Van Ploft rarely interjected, rarely asked any questions. Still, it took much longer than Esther would have imagined. She included being relieved by Sergeant Orinda, reporting to the FCDC police team which was with the Marines, and at Mr. Van Ploft’s prodding, all of her conversations with the lieutenant before she left the planet to return to Wayfarer. Finally, exhausted and wrung through the wringer, she was done.
“I want to thank you for your cooperation, Corporal Lysander. You’ve been most forthcoming.”
He opened the door, and a worried Master Gunnery Sergeant Quiero-Smith immediately poked his head in and said, �
�Corporal Lysander, you’ve got 34 minutes to catch your ship. Do you need anything from your berthing? I can get Sergeant Johnston to fetch it and bring it to you.
I’ve been in there that long? she wondered, looking at Mr. Van Ploft. How high up the food chain are they that they can push aside a major?
“No, Top. I’m OK. I can grab my bug-out bag and make the ship in time.”
“Well, I’ll get out of your way,” the civilian investigator said. “You need to go get taken care of.”
“Did I. . .I mean, did I do anything wrong? You know, with the civilians?” she asked hesitantly, not able to voice anything more specific.
“Oh, I’m here just to gather information. But I wouldn’t be too worried. You showed a lot of courage, Corporal, in cutting the power. Courage and ingenuity both. Your father would be proud of you.”
Esther felt a partial wave of relief flow over her. She knew on an intellectual level that she had acted within the bounds of warfare, and from conversations with her father throughout her life, she thought the investigator was right, her father would have been proud of her.
The only problem was within her. She wasn’t proud of what happened, and she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to forgive herself.
Chapter 33
Noah
“Sergeant Phong, do you have a moment?” Noah asked.
The sergeant looked down from the top of her Mamba where she was holding some sort of calibration equipment against one of the tank’s sights.
“Ah, my PICS friend. Sure, climb on up.”
That was easier said than done. The three Mambas were jammed in tight in their tank pool with barely enough room for him to slide in between two of them. He ended up pushing against the one behind him with his back, then crawling up a meter or so until he could reach over to the main gun, grab it, and pull himself up. At least the tank motor pool was on the same level as the PICS closet, so the overhead was a full four meters high, and he could stand on top without hitting his head.
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