Hiro kept in touch with Haruto. And, while Hiro suspected that Haruto’s businesses were perhaps not fully on the up and up, no one spoke of these things, of course. Haruto would occasionally crack a derogatory comment about the duplicity or stupidity of the police enforcement agencies around the galaxy, and that was enough for Hiro to accept that Haruto had cause to know. There was only one way to do that, and that was to have had experience out-smarting them!
These comments led Hiro to believe that Haruto’s hard nature and rage, may have found a more sympathetic outlet than the rule-bound hierarchy that the Orbit Guard would have demanded. Perhaps Haruto hadn’t realized that Orbit Guard found a place for all talents. Hiro understood that discipline and honor were still a part of the organization that Haruto had joined. He was still the good person he’d been as Hiro’s closest ally.
Hiro had only slimmed down and toned up once he’d joined Orbit Guard. He believed it was all the stress and pressure of his family’s expectations that had kept him padded with fat. It was an insulation against their disgust and disdain. Where Haruto had gotten hard, the very softness of the fat he carried, had kept Hiro kind. It was a strange theory, but perhaps true, or so Hiro believed.
It probably had been the lack of needing to eat for comfort that changed his softness into the rangy muscles, strength and endurance that he now had. Nothing was ever going to change the somewhat rounded features of his face, but at least now he had visible cheekbones and a more prominent nose. Behind that unassuming face was a will of iron, relentless determination, and an occasional boiling rage, all honed by years of discipline and pain.
His Donji kinsmen had been sure he would not be admitted when he’d gone to the testing for the Orbit Guard entrance exam. What had shocked the family was that Hiro had been accepted immediately based on his scores as a battle tactician, hand-to-hand fighting expert, and his ability to motivate others in his testing class. When his instructors had seen how he urged others along beside him, they realized that he’d be a good leader. He had the intelligence, and the honor to serve well. All they had to do was place him in the right situation and he would flourish.
Hiro was kind. It was one of the things that any person who knew him well would say first if asked to describe him. Though, of course, hardly anyone knew him well. It was hard to get past his formal politeness and impassive countenance for most people. Major Donji was a fierce warrior, a brilliant tactician, and a respected leader. Also, he was just plain nice. Somehow, being nice had never seemed to make him attractive to women. Even after he’d leaned down, toned up and turned into a decorated soldier, women still hadn’t been drawn to him for other than his politeness. His love life was now, and probably always would be, non-existent. He was married to Orbit Guard, and that suited him fine. Though whenever one of his friends and fellow officers talked of girlfriends back home, a little pang of wistfulness never ceased to stab him in his tender, but heavily-guarded, heart.
There were women on Frontier Station now. They were after all, the very people he was going to go train this morning. Most of the station had been abuzz about the women who’d arrived. Already he knew that his commanding officer, Colonel Reinegaard, had returned to base with a gorgeous, honey-blonde on his arm. The honey-blonde, was a Lieutenant and counselor, and in charge of the entire Corps of women who’d been attached to the station. She and the Colonel made a good couple. Chloe Sedgewick was spunky and gave as good as she got, but in a way that kept the Colonel’s hard edges in check.
He’d also heard rumors about a beautiful, dark-skinned, South African engineering assistant, and a tall, glamourous, icy-blonde Russian medic. It seemed they were roommates and neither were terribly approachable, or so rumor ran. In particular, the Russian medic. She’d practically emasculated a couple of soldiers who’d approached her during the first few months. One had tried to pat her on the behind. She’d cracked his wrist. The other had simply tried to chat her up. One small sharp jab to the chest and he’d had to sit for the next half hour trying to catch his breath. Everyone steered clear after that.
Hiro had seen the Russian medic work out in the gym. Her martial arts skills were excellent. She’d made no bones about being the equal to any of the men sparring with her and had successfully slammed most of them into the mat with a relish that had earned her the nickname ‘The Reliever’…or in other words, she’d relieve you of your balls if you were slow enough to give her the opening.
She’d been the first woman to volunteer for a forward mission, and until now, had been denied the opportunity. Donji wondered how she’d fare in real combat, though clearly, she held her own when facing a live opponent in the ring. He admired her cool determination so far.
The Major squared his shoulders, threw off his ruminations, and proceeded forward to find out how this opportunity for women to go into battle would play out.
Chapter 3
Stoicism or Static
Katyia Rustalov was sure she wanted to go on a forward mission. Two years ago, when her martial arts trainer in Moscow, ex-KGB officer, Vlad Kostov, had thrown her to the mat in her second week of class, it had ignited a burning desire to meat out some payment in return. The second she’d hit the mat her vision had blacked-out, her ears had rung, and she’d struggled to get even a tiny smidgen of air in to her contracted lungs. When the daze had cleared from her consciousness enough to engage her limbs, she’d hauled herself up from the mat, and stumbled to a stand. Vlad had simply watched, not even trying to assist her. Something about the complete indifference in his stance had triggered a response in Katyia the like of which she’d never felt before. A fire began to burn it her gut. She wanted to kill him. She wanted to throw his passive-faced ass on the mat and beat the living daylights out of him.
That burning in her gut had never left her. After years of taking whatever others wanted to heap on her head, Katyia had finally found her backbone. She knew that was what Vlad had planned all along. From that day forward, he had nurtured her will to battle until the day she went into space to join Orbit Guard.
In truth, she was very excited and trying not to show it. She was in the gym area, aboard Frontier Station and she and her fellow women Corpsmen, including her roommate Johanna Van Heusen, were awaiting the arrival of their instructor. All she knew from her commanding officer, Lieutenant Sedgewick, was that the trainer’s name was Major Donji, and that he had a reputation as a fierce warrior and cool head in battle. Katyia couldn’t wait!
Their acceptance to go on this forward mission had hinged upon an unfortunate event. The alien species this war was trying to repel, the Arachnia, had attacked Frontier Station, specifically targeting the new women Corpsmen’s living quarters. General rumor had it that the information had to come from inside the station. Since Frontier Station was deploying a multitude of strikes against the Arachnians, this forward mission had several positions where the Corpsmen could be of use. She, in particular, as a medic, was necessary.
Just then, the door pinged a soft chime to alert them of someone arriving. Katyia turned expectantly towards the door. When it slid open, it revealed a short, compact, round-faced officer, wearing military fatigues, combat trainers, and a black tee-shirt. His short black hair was cut into a severe military buzz cut, and his black-eyes seemed to scan them all with a kind, inclusive gaze. Oh, for Pete’s sake! This could not be the fearsome Major Donj. Could it, Katyia wondered?
Then he spoke, “Good morning, Corpsmen. I’m Major Donji. I’ll be training you for your forward mission. I’m honored to have the privilege of training the first contingent of women in Orbit Guard to be deployed on a forward mission. If we work hard together, it is my hope that you will all return safely. Now, then, how would you like to be addressed?” he asked.
Well, Katyia thought, he seemed respectful. That was good. On the other hand, she guessed, only time would tell if he was a better warrior than he appeared. She gave him a glaring once-over, and waited to see how he responded.
He didn’t.
The Major only smiled at all of them and began the introductions. Katyia supposed it was good that he hadn’t taken exception to her obviously disdainful gaze. On the other hand, she still wasn’t cutting him any slack.
As the training day wore on, Katyia couldn’t decide if she liked him or hated him. He never seemed to get ruffled. No matter how many times he had to show one of them how to do a maneuver or strap on a weapon, piece of tech, or make a defensive move, he never lost his patience. The other women were responding to him very well, and this, for some reason, made her angry.
He'd acknowledged that her skills were very good and had asked her politely to work with some of the women in closer personal contact, as it would be impolite of him to bring his physical proximity any closer to demonstrate the moves. Katyia had been floored. In her experience, no man resisted getting closer to a woman so that he could cop a feel. Especially in a circumstance like this, where total contact would be completely excused as a way to practice the skills. His very politeness and formal courtesies confused her.
She alternated between giving him static at his every instruction to her, or remaining stoic and simply not looking at him. It was all very perplexing to her. Was he really this nice, or was it a trick to get them to trust him? As Katyia knew from long experience, there was always something men wanted.
Even Vlad Kostov had wanted something. He’d wanted her to join the Orbit Guard. That had become clear after the interview. She’d often wondered since then, why Vlad himself hadn’t joined Orbit Guard. He’d be a perfect fit. Though Katyia appreciated his help in the long run, but she also knew he’d gotten a kick-back from his buddy at the recruiting office for referring her. She didn’t really hold it against him, she just knew he’d gained from her as a student. That was, of course, besides the money she’d paid him each week to train her. There really was, always something.
At the end of the day, Major Donji encouraged them all to follow their squad leader’s instructions to the letter in order to stay safe. Clapped each of them on the shoulder and complimented them on what they’d each done particularly well. When he got to Katyia, he’d halted, offered her his hand instead of the pat on the shoulder, and said, “Well done, Corpsman. You seem to have everything in good order. Thank you for your assistance today.” Smiled at her, stitched a small bow, and left.
Lieutenant Sedgewick her commanding officer, said, “Well Katyia, Major Donji seems to like you. That’s the most praise he ever offers anyone. That little bow thing at the end, was high praise from him. Good job girl!”
Her roommate Johanna gave her the thumbs-up sign and waggled her brows at Katyia. She and Johanna had turned out to be compatible roommates. Both had little use for men and were more interested in their positions onboard then in flirting with soldiers in the mess. Katyia hadn’t really had to twist Johanna’s arm much at all to get her to volunteer for the forward mission. Johanna was an excellent engineer and was very interested, as was Katyia, in obtaining the respect she deserved for her excellence in her profession.
At Johanna’s grin and ribbing about the Major, Katyia felt a warm tightening sensation in her chest that made her wonder if she liked Major Donji, too. Or if she was just having indigestion from nerves before the deployment?
Chapter 4
Forward
Major Hiro Donji hovered on the edge of the opened drop gate at the rear of the shuttle. He was responsible for the five women about to jump out of shuttle carriers in to a forward mission scenario. Three of the women, the medic and housekeeping assistants, who were to act as stretcher bearers, were jumping with the med team. He had only their commanding officer to worry about.
This was a dangerous mission. They were here to destroy a fleet of Arachnian air-ships that had been left guarded by a small detachment of only two dozen Arachnian soldiers. The mission was the result of a carefully planned feint. Colonel Leo Reinegaard, commander of the Frontier Station of Orbit Guard, had not disclosed the plan, nor the location of the jump to anyone until they were enroute. Even then, he’d had comms block all outgoing signals. If the mole was part of the team, they couldn’t relay the coordinates to the Arachnians. He hoped like hell the mole wasn’t with them. He didn’t want these women he was responsible for, to be harmed.
Dear Buddha, please don’t let any of them be hurt, he thought. Turning to see the commanding officer of the Women’s Corps hurrying towards him. He snapped at Lieutenant Sedgewick, “You’re with me Lieutenant.” Then proceeded to make sure she snapped her equipment on to the correct positions.
Lieutenant Sedgewick took his brusque tone in stride, struggled ungracefully into her equipment and then gave him the thumbs up. Stepping out into the black of atmosphere 200 meters above the alien planet, the Major hoped to hell she followed him out.
After disengaging his thruster boots, the Major turned to see Lieutenant Sedgewick also clumsily trying to get out of her equipment. He was glad to see that she hadn’t hesitated to follow him down for the drop. So far, so good. He hoped like hell that trend stayed on point. Motioning to a sonar pad being revealed behind a peeled back piece of camo foam, he snapped, “You’re up Lieutenant. The sonar operator sprained his ankle upon entry. Pick that up and keep me posted on boggies. Don’t worry, any idiot can use sonar!” he snarled, turned and stalked off, calmly issuing orders to the rest of his men.
Thirty minutes later it was all over. They’d blown the aircraft to hell and killed every Arachnian left on guard. They’d also found the mole, or at least, one of them.
Orbit Guard had carefully contained the location of the forward drop as they were trying to flush out who’d been selling secrets to the Arachnians. Strangely, all this had come about shortly after the women had come aboard the station. Having the women there had triggered some serious repercussions from hard-liners that considered the Guard only a man’s pervue.
In the sweep, they’d snagged one of their own. He had to give Lieutenant Sedgewick credit. She’d kept up, though gasping and clearly out of shape, she’d managed to do a good job of letting him know positions of targets on the sonar. Including, it seemed, a fellow Major from another Guard unit. The culprit seemed to be trying to liberate an enemy fighter and escape the area.
Major Schlipp had never been warm with Major Donji, and Donji had never cared for Schlipp either. It shouldn’t have surprised him as much as it had, to find that Major Schlipp was behind the Arachnian attack on the women’s quarters a week ago.
What drove someone to try to kill their fellow Guardsmen, he wondered? Well, that was it, wasn’t it? Schlipp didn’t see the Women’s Corp as fellow Guardsmen. He saw them as interlopers and had shown his disdain of the Corps from the first mention of its inception.
As two of his soldiers appeared dragging Major Schlipp’s wounded body between them, he jogged ahead towards the med station. Schlipp was wounded and would need to be stabilized before transport. Coming abreast of the beautiful Russian, Corpsman Rustalov, the Major stopped and motioned to the approaching group. “Major Schlipp has been wounded. Please stabilize him for transport. It appears that he was consorting with the enemy, so allow no quarter for escape or harm.”
Katyia Rustalov looked at the Major’s impassive face, then towards the grimacing Schlipp. “Certainly sir,” she stated. “I will be happy to give no quarter while stabilizing the Major.”
Hiro Donji wasn’t sure why, but he felt like he’d just had an entire conversation with the beautiful woman medic who had turned away to treat Major Schlipp. Watching her sterilize the wound, tourniquet it, and then bind the injury in a field dressing. He couldn’t help the slight surge of satisfaction he felt as the wounded man screamed in agony, begging for pain killers.
“Of course, you may have pain killers, sir.” Katyia said in a polite, professional tone. “Just as soon as you tell Major Donji all he wants to know.” She then strapped Schlipp to a stretcher with the help of her two Women Corps bearers, giving each strap an extra-hard tug. Ensuring, of course, that the straps
that bound the shrieking man, were tight enough to hold the slippery traitor.
Standing, she turned, a look of grim determination on her face, and faced Major Donji. “Prisoner stabilized and being transported, sir,” she snapped back and saluted. Hiro Donji, sketched a small bow to the medic, then followed the stretcher toward the lift ship, a slight smile curving his usually immobile mouth. He wasn’t the type that wanted to inflict pain on anyone, but Schlipp had sealed his fate when he’d sold out the Guard. Katyia Rustalov certainly understood that. He had to admire her grit. That girl was one tough cookie.
Chapter 5
Taken
Katyia was happy. She was lolling on her bed atop the wolf-pelt coat that adorned her bunk. The coat was home, so no matter where she was, if the coat was there, that was her safe space. This bunk and Orbit Guard was home. The tingle of happiness in her gut was a strange sensation for her. The women that had gone on the forward mission had all met in the mess to talk about the outcome with their commanding officer, Lieutenant Chloe Sedgewick. There had been many congratulations and applause, all of which was something she’d never really experienced before. The camaraderie with her fellow Corpsman and praise from her commanding officer and fellow station crew, while a most uncomfortable feeling in her mind, had felt warm in her chest.
The only downside to the time in the mess was from the obnoxious Ensign Clayton. He’d made one of her fellow Corpsman’s life miserable with this constant badgering. Poor Helen, one of the housekeeping crew, had been frequently driven to tears by his harassment.
He’d looked on at the proceedings with a malicious sneer. He didn’t seem to have many friends, but then again, neither had she, till now. There was just something about him that made her feel unsafe and uncomfortable. She’d purposely glared at him when leaving the mess. It made her feel better to stand up to him, rather than cast her eyes down as she’d done in her early life.
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