by Mark Barber
Diette and Owenne arrived at where Rhona stood by her squad of six troopers. She turned and called them to attention, but Diette held up a hand to stop the formalities.
“Never mind that, never mind,” he smiled. “Come on, don’t stand to attention, gather round.”
The seven troopers formed a loose semi circle around Diette and Owenne. Owenne took the opportunity to quickly read the service records of the other soldiers and learn their names for the tediously inevitable conversation which would follow.
“So you’re the lot who charged up a hill and knocked the Ghar off the top,” Diette nodded in approval. “Good, good. They can wrap themselves up in their tin suits as much as they want to, they’re still no match for old fashioned panhuman courage and ingenuity.”
“Strike Troopers Sessetti and Clythe were with me on the day, sir,” Rhona said quietly. “Strike Trooper Varlton was brought across to bolster the squad after our casualties. Strike Troopers Rechter, Meibal, and Losse have just joined us from training.”
“Strike Trooper Meibal, sir,” a youthful, dark skinned woman stepped forward to introduce herself before Diette could speak again. “I graduated top of my class in all elements of training.”
Owenne suppressed a smile as he connected with the squad shard and felt a wave of resentment surge forward from at least half of the troopers. He could not help himself and turned to the woman to address her.
“Well, with the best training available, it’s still no substitute for the real thing. So probably best you stay quiet and try to hang on the pearls of wisdom from the soldiers who actually have seen combat, eh?” Owenne leaned forward and flashed a smile at her.
“No, no!” Diette held a hand up again. “You can only assess a soldier on the opportunities they have been presented with, and it’s not fair to discount Strike Trooper Meibal just because she hasn’t had the opportunities of some of the more experienced here. I too came top of my class in training, so perhaps there’s a budding commander-in-chief in you yet!”
“Yes, sir!” Meibal beamed.
“It was Sessetti and Clythe who were with me on the day, sir,” Rhona repeated.
“Good, good effort all round,” Diette said, standing in front of Clythe. “You did a grand job supporting your leader. Won’t be long before you’ve got a squad of your own.”
“Thanks, sir, but not for me,” Clythe said politely. “I’m just in for as long as C3 wants me, I’m not a lifer or anything. Glad to be a part of this, sir, but I’ve got a life waiting for me back home.”
“Fair enough,” the commander-in-chief nodded, “takes all sorts. Same for you, Strike Trooper?”
Sessetti paused before replying to the question which had been aimed his way.
“No, sir,” Sessetti said firmly. “I’ll stay with the strike corps for as long as it’ll have me.”
“Good!” Diette beamed.
“What?” Clythe turned to face Sessetti. “What about the band?”
“This is a discussion for a bit later on, guys,” Rhona dashed across to stand in between Diette and her soldiers. “May I escort you and Mandarin Owenne to the town hall for a drink, sirs?”
“Probably best,” Owenne grinned. “Looks like this one might kick off a bit! After you, Strike Leader!”
Chapter Eighteen
Firebase Ghia
Pariton District
Markov’s Prize
L-Day plus 66
Tahl lay back on his bunk and stared up at the ceiling of his room, taking in every detail of the sterile, white syncast plates as his mind raced over the last few weeks. He had badly wanted to believe the commander-in-chief’s speech at the town hall, that the Ghar were on their last legs and that this would soon be over. Tahl had not seen a shred of evidence to support any hypothesis other than that of the Ghar being dug in and set for the long haul, prepared to fight long and hard to take Markov’s Prize and then leap to the next world for plunder. But even if and when the Concord were successful, then what? Onto the next planet, and the next after that. Assuming he survived, the day would come when he could go home, but there was no home to go to. A father who had disowned him and a mother who barely tolerated him.
“You’re looking thoughtful,” Rhona said from where she lay with her head on his shoulder. “D’you ever just declutch that brain and coast, instead of thinking all the time?”
Tahl looked across at her and shrugged in apology. Only the bed sheet which lay across them clothed them both, and it was nearly dawn up in the world above.
“Just glad the ceiling isn’t shaking with enemy artillery for once,” Tahl said as he looked up again. “You know, because of our overreliance on technology, they can find our bases and bombard us easier than…”
Rhona lay back and ran her hands over her body.
“Oh, tell me more about artillery strike coordination, sir, it gets me so hot!”
“I’m sorry,” Tahl smiled, “I shouldn’t be talking about anything related to work.”
“It’s not for me, it’s for you,” Rhona propped her head up on one hand next to him. “I just think you need to chill out more. I guess I just wonder what you’ll do when this is all over.”
“I was just wondering the same thing,” Tahl admitted.
He momentarily considered asking her about what their future was but pushed the thought away almost instantly. He knew what this was – a casual, physical fling between two single people to act as a distraction from the terrible situations they faced every day. He needed to be grateful for what he had, no matter how fleeting it was.
“What’ll you do when you can go home?”
“I only think one day ahead!” Rhona smiled slyly.
“Why?”
Her smile faded away.
“It gets me down,” she admitted. “I don’t wanna get all serious, but I haven’t really planned surviving my military service.”
“Why not?” Tahl sat up.
“Just… people like you make it to the end of movies. Not people like me.”
“Real life is very different, though,” Tahl said, confused at the analogy. “You’ve got to go into this all with some optimism.”
“It’s not pessimism, it’s just… acceptance,” Rhona shrugged, “and I’m cool with it. I’ve made my peace.”
“What about your brother back home?” Tahl said.
“He’s only just talking to me again. We kinda fell out. It was my fault. Yeah, definitely my fault.”
“What happened?” Tahl asked.
“Doesn’t matter,” Rhona winced, “you wouldn’t wanna hear. Jeez… I can’t win this. If I don’t tell you then it seems like I don’t want to talk to you, but if I do tell you…”
“You don’t have to tell me,” Tahl smiled, “I know what this is between us. You don’t owe me anything, you don’t have to talk to me about personal things. I’m not putting pressure on you.”
“You see, that’s exactly the problem. You think you know me, but you don’t. You think you know what goes on inside my head because you judge me based on the persona I project, but that projection is a lie. A front. I never told you that what’s going on between us is meaningless to me, you just assumed it. You just assumed I’ll finish with you and move on to the next guy.”
“Okay,” Tahl conceded, “tell me what happened between you and your brother.”
Rhona’s face dropped.
“Aw… crap,” she sighed, “this is literally the worst personal anecdote I have to prove my point. Okay, I’d just qualified as a strike trooper and I had a couple of weeks leave before shipping out. I went to spend my time with my brother at his college. I spent two weeks drinking and partying, and I slept with two of his best friends. They both found out, they had a big fight over me, and it all got very messy.”
“And here was me thinking you were a nun,” Tahl risked a smile.
“You’re not making this easy for me. Look, I made a big mistake and I learned from it. I learned that what was acceptable beh
avior back where I’m from is not acceptable here. That was, like, a year ago, and you’re my first guy since. The point is, you’ve assumed this means nothing to me.”
“Isn’t that better for you?” Tahl lay back down again and looked back at the ceiling. “Doesn’t it put less pressure on…”
“Stop with the pressure!” Rhona interrupted, her voice sounding hurt and serious for the first time. “Let me decide what I want to do! You’re trying to be open minded and accepting of my culture’s customs when you really don’t have to. Yeah, people are a lot more open about sex where I’m from but that hardly means I can’t control myself! Where you’re from, a physical relationship is something special between two people that means something. I get that. I respect it. It’s something I’m pretty sure I’m capable of doing.”
“I don’t get what you’re saying,” Tahl sat up again. “You’re saying that this isn’t just a casual fling and this means something to you?”
“Yes!” Rhona exclaimed. “Jeez, you’re as bad as that mandarin sometimes! Look, I’ve never done the whole relationship deal before, but you’re the first person I’ve ever met that makes me want to try.”
“Why?”
“Because! You’re just looking for compliments now,” Rhona sat up on the edge of the bunk and turned her back on him, folding her arms. “Because… you got dragged away from the life you were supposed to have, and now you’re all alone. You never complain about it, you just get on and do it. You’re the only person I’ve ever met who I think can really understand what it’s like to feel straight out of luck and that every road you take ends up further from the life you were supposed to have. You’re the only guy I’ve met who I can relate to.”
Tahl sat behind her and embraced her for a few moments until she pried herself away and recovered her clothes from the floor.
“We’re out of time,” Rhona said as she pulled her uniform on, her back still to him. “I gotta go get my squad together. We’re moving out in less than an hour.”
“Right,” Tahl nodded, at a loss for words.
Rhona finished dressing herself by pulling on her boots and tying her hair back into a ponytail before turning to face him. He could see that she had been crying.
“I’ve got to go get suited up,” she said coolly, her even voice in direct contrast to her tear glistening eyes. “Just… stop second guessing me, okay? I know your customs, I’m not going to go upsetting you by screwing around with other guys. Just show some trust in me. Maybe forever will work out, I don’t know. The odds are stacked against us. But let’s at least try.”
By the time Tahl had mentally worded his apology and how to tell her that he felt the same, she had already gone.
***
“One of the other guys,” Sessetti told Rechter and Losse as he ran his diagnostic tool over the armored plates of his suit, “told me to always go for the most obvious parts to look for damage. The maintenance drones are programmed to spend longer searching out the cracks and internals, not the surfaces.”
Eager to learn, Rechter ran his own diagnostics tool over the plates of his armor as Sessetti showed him. The three sat down in the center of the communal area, clad in their body gloves as they carried out last minute checks on their arms and armor.
“If you’re not ready by now, you never will be,” Clythe said dismissively from where he lay on his bunk. “You’d be wiser spending your time chilling out rather than getting worked up over nothing.”
“You’d be wiser spending your time getting the latest updates from the Formation Intelligence Cell,” Meibal added from where she sat on the edge of her bunk with a datapad. “There are updates coming in all of the time.”
“Let me guess,” Varlton offered from where he stood in the corner of the room by the food dispenser, “capital city full of Ghar, MAA, and Freeborn? One of them has attacked the other and exchanged marginal territorial gains for a few casualties? Same thing we’re about to go do?”
“You heard the commander-in-chief,” Meibal replied, “this is the last big push. We’re right at the end.”
Varlton laughed and let out a low groan.
“Oh, jeez! Every commander in every army, since the first poor sods fixed bayonets to the end of their guns in some mudhole thousands of years ago have been spinning that ridiculous lie!”
“Diette also said you could be a commander-in-chief someday, so we know he’s a liar,” Clythe offered.
“Ignore him, Mabe,” Sessetti smiled to Meibal, “you do whatever you think is best to prepare yourself. Reading intelligence reports sounds as good an idea as any to me.”
The door to the communal area opened and Rhona rushed through, still clad in her barrack uniform.
“Morning, dudes,” she smiled, “ready to go win the war?”
“Where’ve you been?” Varlton asked. “We’re supposed to be at five minutes’ notice!”
“I’m a bit behind schedule because I spent I spent a night of passion with my secret lover,” Rhona winked as she pulled off her shirt.
“Yeah, funny,” Varlton grimaced. “Come on and get ready. We’ll get the call to saddle up any second now.”
“Preferably within the confines of your own cubicle,” Meibal added. “I don’t want to see you prancing around in your underwear, again.”
“I kind of have to,” Rhona shrugged, “as part of my duties as squad leader, morale is top of the agenda. These guys are about to go into combat, so showing them some leg is the least I can do.”
“What’s the most?” Varlton asked.
“Yeah,” Losse piped up, “jokes about your secret lover aside, are you single?”
Rechter looked across at Losse.
“That’s pretty direct,” he commented.
Rhona smirked as she took her body glove from its stowage and quickly inspected it for damage.
“No, I’ve got a guy,” she said after a pause.
“What?” Clythe sat up on his bunk. “You’ve never mentioned that before! Why’d you never say anything?”
“It’s personal,” Rhona said as she pulled on her body glove and fitted her breastplate over her torso, “I like to keep some things to myself.”
“Says the woman who spends ninety quantum of her time in her underwear surrounded by hormonal men,” Meibal muttered.
“Jeez, what is it with women in this squad?” Rhona shook her head as she fitted her leg plates. “First Rae, then Jem, now you. I ain’t apologizing for being this hot, girl. None of the guys ever complain. Just get over it and move on.”
“Stop changing the subject,” Varlton said. “Who’s this guy of yours?”
Rhona looked down and paused, tapping one of her shoulder plates absentmindedly against one hand before smiling softly and fitting it.
“He’s about my age,” she answered, “he’s taller than me, he’s tough when he needs to be, and soft the rest of the time. And we nearly understand each other. Nearly. We’re getting there.”
The room fell silent for a few moments.
“I’m glad for you, Kat,” Varlton smiled, tapping her on the shoulder.
“Maybe tell us what’s going on next time,” Clythe suggested. “There’s enough secrecy going on around here as it is.”
Sessetti stood up and let out a sigh.
“Oh, change the track, would you? I’m sick of hearing this same song now.”
Clythe leapt off his bunk and paced out to stand in front of Sessetti.
“At least the song from me is consistent,” he growled. “You just lead people on and then drop them with no warning! Out of the blue!”
“I don’t have to answer to you!” Sessetti snapped. “I’ll do what the hell I want!”
“That’s you through and through, isn’t it? You selfish prick!” Clythe shouted, shoving Sessetti in the chest.
Sessetti’s fist lashed out and connected with Clythe’s jaw, snapping his head and sending him reeling. With a chorus of shouts, Varlton and Rhona leapt forward and stood in between
the two.
“You two, pack that in!” Rhona yelled, shoving both soldiers apart. “What the hell is this all about?”
“It’s about that dumb bastard insisting on clinging on my coat tails for the rest of his life!” Sessetti shouted.
Clythe sank back on his bunk and hung his head, blood dripping from his split lip.
“Lian, sit down and shut up!” Rhona bellowed. “You wait right there! Don’t go anywhere!”
Rhona walked into Clythe’s cubicle and shut the door behind them.
***
Clythe had never looked so pathetic to Rhona. She folded her arms and looked down at where he sat silently, unable to look up and meet her piercing stare.
“Go on. Explain that crap away.”
Clythe let out a long sigh.
“All my life,” he began, “I’ve been in his shadow. His parents were more popular than mine, he did better at school, he did better at sports, everything. He was the cool one who the girls liked, I was the loud mouthed, lippy friend. He’s right, I’ve spent my whole life clinging to his coat tails. This band was everything to me. I’m not dumb, I know we’re never going to be famous. But it made me happy. Playing music made me happy, and he’s like a brother to me. The whole point in us invading other poor bastards’ planets is to get them onboard with the IMTel so they can do what they want. What about me? All I want to do is be in a band and play music. I’m not asking much! I want to tour places with my friends, see different worlds, give strangers a great night out when they come to see us. But instead I’m stuck here in the military in a war against some huge bastard metal suits, fighting for a planet whose people hate us. And I’ve got a bad feeling about this next one. I’ve lucked in so far, but you know, I think it’s my turn now. And… this wasn’t what was supposed to happen.”
Rhona exhaled slowly before sitting down next to him. She put an arm around his shoulders and pulled his head against her neck, like she used to do with her little brother.
“You’ll be okay, dude,” she said gently. “I don’t think you’ve run out of luck. You know what I think? I think we’re owed some good luck after the last few weeks. I think that poor old Gant, Jem, and Qan used up our bad luck for us, and now we’ll be okay. I also think that if we were back home, all sat together with drinks and looking up at the stars, this wouldn’t be so bad. We’re about to go into combat again and the whole world seems bad. I feel the same way too. I feel sick, I’m so scared, despite what the suit is pumping into me to stop it. But dude, you don’t need Lian as a crutch. You’re your own guy. You’re not his shadow. Let him chase his plan here, and you go home and chase your dream. If he isn’t the right guy to share it with, you go find the right people and make your own band. You’ve got two hundred years to get it right. So see your part in this dumb war through, and then leave it behind.”
