“Sir, you sent for me,” Dean said, coming to attention in front of Admiral Masterson.
“Blaze, you know that you don’t have to salute me,” he said. “Your Planetary Medal of Honor supersedes rank.”
“Yes sir,” Dean said.
“At ease, Captain, I can see that you’re a stickler for tradition. I like that.”
“Sir, if I may speak freely.”
“Of course, Captain,” Admiral Masterson said.
“This is your ship, I’m under your command. I would prefer to maintain discipline whenever I’m on board.”
“Well, thank you, Captain. I appreciate that show of respect. I’ve always believed in keeping things informal myself and I encourage my officers to speak up when they have ideas, and to contribute anything that might increase our chances for success. To that end, I want you to meet with our guests and include them in your training.”
“You want the diplomats to train with my platoon, sir?” Dean asked, unable to hide the horror he felt at the suggestion.
“Heavens no, Dean. They’re diplomats, not warriors. But you’ll be escorting them and while I have no doubts you’re up to the task, it is an unusual one. I want your platoon to get used to being around them. I want you running training programs where they actually protect Butler and Fanning. It will give you a better understanding of the task, and I daresay, help the diplomats to understand what you’re doing. They need to respond to a threat just as quickly as your own Specialists. We need to make sure they know what they’re doing if things go to hell on this mission.”
“I understand, sir,” Dean said, unable to hide the frown that creased his face.
“Captain, I want you to speak up if you have a question or comment on my orders. I’m not so delicate that I will wilt if we disagree about something.”
“Yes, sir, I’m sorry. I don’t disagree with you at all. My concern is that the diplomats will be a distraction.”
“A distraction, Captain?”
“Yes sir.”
“In what way?”
“It’s just that we’re making adjustments, sir,” Dean tried to explain. “And Butler and Fanning might make it more difficult for my platoon to concentrate.”
“Because they aren’t soldiers?”
“Because they’re beautiful people,” Dean said.
Admiral Masterson burst out laughing and Dean couldn’t help but join him.
“That is the funniest complaint I’ve ever heard, Captain,” the admiral said. “And while I understand it completely, I still think it’s necessary.”
“Yes sir, of course.”
“Good, I’ll leave it to you to work out the details. And I assume that you’ll keep your Specialists in line.”
“Of course, Admiral.”
“Good, we don’t need some lovesick private ruining this mission before we even reach Urgglatta space. That will be all, Captain.”
Dean saluted, then spun on his heel and left the bridge. He wanted to curse. The truth was, he didn’t think Sloan Fanning would appreciate training with his platoon. And he honestly didn’t want to be around the beautiful diplomat any more than he had to be. She was confusing to Dean, physically attractive while mentally her disdain for violence of any kind was insulting. He hadn’t been dishonest to Admiral Masterson either, he really did think that Butler and Fanning were simply too attractive and would distract his platoon if they spent too much time together. The training program could project the images of the diplomats so that his Specialists got used to seeing them without having to deal directly with people who didn’t understand what he was doing and whose skill at making others feel at ease might send the wrong message to his warriors.
Still, he couldn’t disobey an order from the admiral and he could see the wisdom in training the diplomats to respond to danger. They might not like even thinking about what might go wrong, but if things took a turn for the worse they would need to know what to do without being told. He settled his nerves and made his way to the lounge that the diplomats were using as a work space. The door to the lounge was closed and it didn’t open as Dean approached. He waved his wrist link in front of the infrared receptacle expecting the door to open, instead a speaker outside the door projected Dwayne Butler’s voice to Dean.
“Can I help you, Captain?” the diplomat said.
“I would like to speak to you and Ms. Fanning about training.”
“I’m sorry, what training?”
Dean didn’t know if the diplomat could see him via some hidden camera, so he tried his best not to let his frustration show. He was a Captain in EsDef’s Off World Force Recon and talking to someone who couldn’t be bothered to even open the door seemed insulting.
“Admiral Masterson thinks it would be beneficial for you and Ms. Fanning to train with my platoon in case we run into problems on the mission.”
“Is that really necessary?” this time it was Fanning’s voice speaking through the tiny speaker by the door.
“It’s a good idea,” Dean said. “If we run into trouble, you’ll want to know what to do without having to be told.”
“Captain, we do not fail. We do not even entertain the idea of failure,” Fanning said, with more than a little smugness in her tone. “Training for failure is a waste of time.”
“Hold on a second,” Butler told Dean, who was left in silence, staring at a closed door for several minutes.
Dean knew that he was just an officer in the Extra Solar Defense Force, not a dignitary, or even a commander outside of his platoon. Still, he couldn’t help but feel insulted. When the door finally swished open it was Dwayne Butler who greeted him.
“I’m sorry we kept you waiting, Captain. Please, come in.”
Dean stepped into the lounge. There was music playing, a symphony that Dean didn’t recognize. On the far wall was a vid screen with the exact same camera feed as the large screen on the bridge. Dean noticed that Earth was already considerably smaller, and he couldn’t see the space base at all. There were other ships in the distance too, but their running lights were like dull constellations, just poor imitations of the fiery stars that filled the vid screen.
“I didn’t want to interrupt your work,” Dean said. “I thought we might just schedule a time to discuss the possibilities.”
“No time like the present,” Butler said.
Dean looked around but there was no sign of Sloan Fanning. Dean wanted to ask where she might be but decided that might be impolite.
“Alright then,” Dean said. “Admiral Masterson suggested that you join my platoon for training sessions in the VR dome down on Alpha deck. We’ll be running simulations and you can get an idea of how we respond to threats, as well as get some firsthand knowledge of what to do in a crisis.”
“I can see how that might be helpful,” Butler said. “But we’re not soldiers.”
“No sir, we don’t expect you to fight. But if the Kroll attack, our primary responsibility is to get you to safety as quickly as possible. It would be good for you to know what to do.”
“How often would you suggest we train?”
“I want to take a few days to work through scenarios with my platoon first,” Dean said. “Then we can run through a couple of training programs together and see how things go.”
“You train at what time?” Butler asked.
“In the mornings, after breakfast until lunch.”
“You’ll need us the entire time?”
“Probably not sir,” Dean said, thinking through the logistics. “Maybe an hour of training, then we can meet for another hour in my office or here, to discuss anything from the training that needs attention.”
“Alright, we’ll do that, but just so you understand it is our job to make yours unnecessary.”
“He’s right,” Fanning said, suddenly striding across the room. “The last thing we need are trigger-happy soldiers ruining our negotiations.”
“That won’t happen,” Dean said. “We’re a highly trained plato
on, all veterans with off world experience in high pressure situations.”
“You are trained to kill,” she said, glaring down at him. She was clearly angry, but Dean had no idea why.
“Actually ma’am, we’re trained to survive. Killing isn’t the goal unless it’s the only way to survive.”
“I find that hard to believe, Captain. In fact, I read about your actions on Rome Three. You were ordered not to kill there, but you did in fact kill colonists to complete your mission.”
Dean wasn’t sure how a diplomat outside of EsDef got that kind of information, but he couldn’t deny that it was true. He had killed on Rome Three. He had ordered his platoon to blow up an elevator car full of people. It wasn’t his proudest moment, in fact he suffered from terrible dreams because of that very incident on Rome Three, but he knew why he’d done it and knew that if he was faced with the same situation he would do it again.
“That’s true,” Dean said. “We were caught in a bad position and I did what was necessary for the safety of my platoon and the successful completion of our mission.”
“There, you see,” Fanning said to Butler. “I was right. They are nothing more than merciless killers. I want nothing to do with them.”
“Sloan,” Dwayne said, standing up from his chair. “This isn’t just a suggestion. We’re here at the invitation of EsDef. We’re on their ship and the admiral is asking us to do this.”
“If we show up surrounded by soldiers we’ll have no credibility to talk about peace!” she insisted. “We will fail before we even begin.”
“Be that as it may, we have no other choice,” Butler said. “Now get off your high horse. You’ve made your point, but it doesn’t change anything.”
“You really don’t want us there?” Dean asked. “Even if they kill you?”
“Intelligent beings don’t kill each other for no reason,” Fanning said. “Why would the Kroll risk a war with us by murdering diplomats?”
“You mentioned the possibility that perhaps we don’t think the way the Kroll think,” Dean reminded her. “What if they have no concept of murder?”
“That is ridiculous,” she insisted.
“No, it really isn’t. And you need to seriously consider the possibility that they may not be open to talking at all. They might slaughter us for no other reason than because they can.”
“But that isn’t likely, Captain,” Butler interjected. “We don’t know enough about each other to risk war.”
“I hope you’re right,” Dean said. “But have you considered the possibility that they may not even have a concept of war? Or perhaps they’ve been at war for so long that peace is a foreign concept. I hope it’s not simply part of their nature to slaughter and enslave everyone they meet.”
“You are a savage,” Fanning said.
“He’s faced them, Sloan. Give the captain some credit,” Butler said.
“I will not. In my country war is not an acceptable solution. For over two centuries we have remained at peace, even when war raged all around us. It is time that the world learns from us,” she said, before storming away from Dean and Butler.
“I’ll let the two of you get on with your business,” Dean said. “I’ll message you in a few days to set up a time for us to meet again.”
“That’s fine,” Butler said, walking Dean to the door. “She’ll come around, I promise. She’s a professional.”
Dean nodded, although he wasn’t sure Butler was correct about his counterpart. Fanning’s obstinance reminded Dean of Corporal Grayson Chancy III. In his experience, people like Chancy and Fanning didn’t change, perhaps they simply couldn’t.
Chapter 29
It didn’t take long to fall into a routine. Dean enjoyed working out first thing in the morning, it gave him a sense of accomplishment that followed him all day long. After breakfast he trained with his platoon, putting them through their paces in regular combat scenarios and specialized boarding maneuvers. They all trained for special protection procedures, including new formations.
Wagons Hot was the order for surrounding the diplomats and firing at anything that approached. Thermopylae was the order to control a small space, and hold it against intruders. Leapfrog was a maneuver that separated the platoon into two firing groups and one escort group, allowing the shooters to lay down cover fire while the escort moved the diplomats to safety. And finally, Retreat Hot was the order for the platoon to fight while the diplomats fled to safety on their own. After Dean had drilled the new formations with his platoon, he invited the diplomats to join in. They came reluctantly and walked through the scenarios. They had nothing more to do than duck and move with the platoon, but Dean thought it was important that the diplomats meet the warriors charged with their protection.
And just as Dean had guessed, the pretty people, as the diplomats came to be known among the members of his platoon, were all they seemed able to talk about. Even the couples laughed and joked about how attractive the diplomats were. Dean didn’t try to subdue the lewd joking, it was all simply part of the mission in his mind. How his platoon viewed the diplomats wasn’t his concern, and he didn’t intend to waste energy trying to get his Specialists to behave according to his moral standards.
The afternoons were the busiest time in the Recon wing of the ship. Captain Parker was teaching hand-to-hand combat to Dean’s platoon members who weren’t doing something else. The Heavy Armor Specialists split their afternoon between marksmanship exercises, tinkering on their armor, and heavy weight training. In their mechanized armor, hand-to-hand combat was practically impossible so Dean excused them from Captain Parker’s sparing sessions.
Ghost stayed busy helping the other specialists familiarize themselves with the EMR rifles. Chavez helped Captain Parker during her combat instructions, then led the sparing sessions that followed. Members of the ship’s crew, including Operators that weren’t on duty, often came down to exercise or join in the hand-to-hand combat training. Some simply watched, but there were always people moving in and out of the various rooms in the Recon wing between lunch and dinner. Dean participated in everything, and then spent his evenings writing reports or planning platoon exercises for the next day.
Before he knew it, two weeks had passed and they were approaching the end of their trip. Dean had met with the diplomats to discuss his observations of the Kroll, but Sloan Fanning could not keep herself from challenging him and his point of view. It made him wonder how such a combative person could be an effective negotiator.
The ship ran perfectly, the food was decent, and Dean got to know some of the other officers on board. It was the first tour he had been on where he actually felt like he belonged. The Apache wasn’t all that large, but it seemed more familiar somehow, and less claustrophobic. Everyone on board was at the top of their game and focused on the mission, but tension began to rise as they approached the Urgglatta system. The ship was slowing, although the artificial gravity made it impossible to tell there was any change. And when Admiral Masterson called the first shipwide boarding drill, the crew fell into chaos.
There was no warning about the drill, even though everyone knew it was coming and had been given specific instructions. Dean was with Captain Parker, who was teaching a hand-to-hand combat class with Staff Sergeant Chavez. The lights suddenly went red and a loud alarm sounded throughout the ship.
“Red alert. Red alert,” an automated voice echoed above the alarm.
“Move! Armor up and weapons hot!” Dean shouted.
Captain Parker would command the bridge defenses, which consisted of one Fast Attack Specialist, one Demolition Specialist, and three Heavy Armor Specialists. Dean had assigned the triplets as the HA contingent, and they came stomping past the exercise room just as Dean was leaving. The Heavy Armor group had been running marksman drills in the VR dome, so they were already in armor, and only needed to activate their plasma cannons. Valosky and Landin would join them, once they had their armor and weapons. People were running through corridors and
Dean could tell at a glance that things weren’t running smoothly.
In the ready room Dean pulled on his armor, grabbed his rifle, and hurried out to the atrium. Owanto, Adkins, and Teller were already there, waiting for word as to the location of the breech. Dean, Chavez, Harper, and Tallgrass joined them. Ghost came too, but used his jet pack to ascend up the large open space around the gravity drive to a spot opposite the bridge where he could fire down onto the other levels if necessary.
“Recon A team in position,” Dean said over the tactical net via his TCU.
It was another forty seconds before Captain Parker checked in with her group just outside the bridge.
“Recon B team in position,” she said, her breath a little strained which Dean recognized as a sign of her displeasure.
It was another minute before the other sections called in. The Operators were to report to their control stations, ship’s officers to the bridge, and maintenance personnel were to meet on Alpha deck near the gravity drive. The diplomats were to enter an escape pod and wait for further instructions.
“Hull breech on Bravo deck, at the main airlock,” said the ship’s executive officer, an Asian woman named Captain Li Jing.
“Let’s move,” Dean ordered.
Chavez led the way, sprinting toward the stairwell that led up to Bravo deck. They couldn’t take a chance of getting stuck in the lift if power was cut off, so they ran up the steps two at a time, the HA Specialists thumping just behind Dean. They reached the airlock a few seconds later. Owanto took the center position with Adkins on his right, Teller on his left. Their overlapping shields blocked off the corridor ten feet from the airlock. Chavez and Tallgrass were right behind them, rifles held ready. Dean and Harper were several feet back, rifles in hand, but in neutral positions.
“Recon A team at the breech site,” Dean said.
“Excellent, all officers report to the Ward Room for eval in ten minutes,” Admiral Masterson said, his voice coming to Dean through his TCU a split second before it echoed through the ship’s PA system. “Drill is over.”
The alarm stopped, the lights went from red back to the full spectrum, and Dean sagged a little. He had planned the strategy for a breech, so he knew they hadn’t done the drill justice. Getting into armor was time consuming, and despite his best efforts most of the ship hadn’t responded well to the drill.
Embracing Oblivion: Wolfpack Book 3 Page 18
