Joined In Battle

by Toby Neighbors

  “You coming with me?” Dean asked.

  “I wish I could, but I’ve got to get the nukes ready. I just hope they aren’t leaking too much radiation.”

  “I never thought it would be like this,” Dean said. “Joining EsDef and becoming a Recon Specialist was my dream. But I never wanted to be in charge. I never wanted to make the decision to send people into harm’s way.”

  “No one does,” Parker said. “But it’s heroes like you that give us hope. I saw the way you handled things when the Kroll attacked the Apache. Don’t kid yourself, Dean, you saved us all. You were smart, courageous, decisive, and most importantly—no matter what the brass says—you were right. Your actions and the sacrifices of your platoon saved us all. We’re asking you—no, we’re begging you, Dean—please, save us again.”

  “I’ll go,” Dean said, shaking his head in resignation. “But I won’t order my platoon to go with me. I’ll give them a chance to volunteer.”

  “That’s fine,” Parker said. “As long as you impress on them the importance of the mission.”

  Dean didn’t respond. He understood from an officer’s perspective that what was needed sometimes meant that good specialists would die. If his entire platoon was lost but they saved the lives of the surviving crews from the armada, it would be a worthy sacrifice. And if they could fulfill Major Davis’s ambitious plan to take the fight to the Kroll, it would certainly be worth any losses they sustained. How could one platoon not sacrifice for the whole of humanity? Yet the people that would put their lives on the line were people Dean knew, loved, and respected. His platoon was nothing but names on a list to the brass, and even less to the people on Earth or one of humanity’s colonies, but they were Dean’s entire world. He couldn’t throw their lives away unnecessarily, and he wouldn’t force them to go on a mission that was officially off the books.

  “You’re certain Vice Admiral Anders understands our mission? I don’t want to have to fight him when we get to New Wales.”

  “Major Davis is dealing with that. You just make sure you have everything you need and get this done, Dean. Nothing else matters.”

  He didn’t agree; in fact, he knew that even if he failed—which was likely—that humanity would find a way to fight the Kroll. History proved that beyond everything else, humanity was united in their propensity for war. His mission, as important as it was, would be just one prong of a greater effort to end the threat of the Kroll to Earth and the colonies of mankind. He didn’t relish the task, but he wouldn’t shirk it, either. He was a Recon officer, a warrior for his people, and he would do exactly what he was trained to do.

  Chapter 29

  “We are fully stocked, sir,” Chavez said. “But it’s all older ammo. The Space Base didn’t have any of the new munitions.”

  Dean and his platoon were back on the Hannibal. It hadn’t taken them long to resupply, and when Dean left Captain Parker he found the task complete. His mind considered the possibilities. The EMR rifles packed a much harder punch than the utility rifles, which fired flechettes, but the upside to the older rifles was the more than three times as much ammunition in each utility rifle magazine. Everyone would have to double up, each carrying both types of weapon, since the EMR rifles were ideal for use against the avian Kroll while the flechettes were more fitting against their subjugated fighting force.

  “That will do,” Dean said.

  “Everything okay, Captain? You seem a little distracted.”

  “I’m fine,” Dean said, flashing his friend a smile. “Just a lot to do.”

  “Anything I can help with?”

  “No, Staff Sergeant. You and the rest of the platoon should get some more rest. I’ll let you know when you’re needed.”

  “Roger that, Jefe,” Chavez said with a broad smile.

  Dean realized he depended on Chavez not just as a senior NCO, but also as his sounding board during stressful situations. Chavez was not afraid to speak his mind, yet he was loyal and always ready to carry out Dean’s orders. In return, Dean trusted the big staff sergeant with his life, and the two had become close. It was difficult to think of going on a mission as dangerous as the one he’d been assigned, but even more concerning was the thought of leading his platoon into such a mission. Dean wasn’t sure what he wanted more—to share all his fears with his trusted staff sergeant, or to protect his big friend from the dangers that lay ahead.

  Dean returned to his station on the bridge and watched on his bank of consoles as the Hannibal pulled away from Space Base 03. The old facility looked sinister to him somehow, as if knowing the terrible warheads she carried made him think that the station was a harbinger of death. He hoped it wasn’t a mistake to arm the old nukes. Dean knew the plan could potentially blow up in their faces, even if he somehow managed to gain control of a Kroll ship. The fact that the explosion might be nuclear only made Dean more nervous.

  “Lieutenant Myers,” Anders said. “Plot a course for the New Wales system.”

  “Aye, sir,” Sheldon Myers replied.

  “I want to come to a stop just outside the heliosphere,” Anders continued. “From there, we’ll assess the system and what threats there may be before plotting our next course of action.”

  “Course set in,” Myers announced a moment later. “Twenty-two hours and forty-seven minutes until arrival outside the heliosphere of the New Wales system.”

  Dean couldn’t believe they were less than a day from a system that was currently occupied by the Kroll. That fact made him feel more uneasy than learning of the invasion had. He suddenly understood why the brass wanted to gather fleet and protect Earth, but he also knew that wasn’t a wise strategy.

  “Captain Blaze, can we talk for a moment?” Anders asked.

  “Of course, Admiral,” Dean said.

  “We’ll be in my quarters,” Anders announced to his crew. “XO has the conn.”

  Dean followed Anders to the large private study the ship’s commander enjoyed. Anders settled behind his desk and Dean sat across from him in a comfortable chair, yet somehow he felt as if he was being disciplined for something he’d done wrong.

  “Major Davis gave me a very strange order,” Anders began. “He wants me to leave your platoon in the New Wales system.”

  “Yes,” Dean replied. “We’re going to try and rescue any survivors from the armada.”

  “And how do you hope to do that without a ship to escape on?” Anders said, his tone harsh. “I read about the diplomatic mission, at least as much as EsDef released on the subject. It doesn’t make sense to me that you would allow yourselves to be captured without a clear exit strategy. I don’t want the Hannibal to be left out if more ships are coming to help you.”

  “No other ships are coming, sir,” Dean said. “Our mission is a long shot. I have to get us onto the Kroll ships, rescue the hostages, and break one of our vessels free. That’s what we did with the Apache.”

  “Sounds like suicide to me,” Anders admitted.

  “It’s a dangerous mission, sir. That’s why I’ve gotten permission to allow the specialists who don’t volunteer to join me to stay on board the Hannibal and return to the Sol system with you.”

  “Is that likely?”

  Dean thought for a moment, then answered honestly. “No, sir, I think they’ll all volunteer.”

  “And what happens if we run into trouble?” Anders asked. “It doesn’t make sense for my ship to be assigned a mission while we are without a Recon platoon.”

  “I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t make that call.”

  “Well, you sure as hell agreed to it,” Anders said loudly, then looked away.

  Dean got the impression that the Vice Admiral was afraid, and ashamed of his fear. Part of him wanted to comfort the commander, but Dean also understood the value of the man’s fear. If he got too cute with the Kroll, they would show him no mercy. Better a little fear than an arrogant admiral. RA Chancy was proof of that.

  “I did, sir, and I’m sorry it leaves you in the lurch�
�but in this instance I believe desperate measures are called for.”

  “Do you know what’s on Cymru, Captain?” Anders asked. “It’s a bunch of colonists who want to live in a fairy tale. They carry swords, crown kings, hold jousting tournaments, and eschew technology. They’ve built castles and speak in primitive languages. My point is they don’t produce anything, and they don’t buy goods from other worlds. They’re content playing make-believe like children. Are they really worth dying for?”

  “I don’t make that decision, sir,” Dean replied.

  “Well I’ll tell you: the answer is no. They made their choice, and I don’t see why we should be asked to risk our lives on their behalf.”

  “I would say our task is to take the fight to the Kroll wherever they are, sir,” Dean said. “We have to show them, with force, that we aren’t a species to take lightly.”

  Anders looked at Dean for a long time without saying anything. It made Dean uncomfortable, but he refused to be the first to look away. Finally, the Vice Admiral waved his hand.

  “Fine, go do what you have to do, Captain. I won’t stop you, but I am putting a formal complaint in my report. I would like you to acknowledge in your own report that you are leaving the Hannibal against my advice.”

  “I can do that, sir,” Dean agreed.

  He knew it was simply the way of the naval officers to protect themselves whenever they were faced with an order that could potentially hurt their career, but he still thought it was a distasteful thing to do. Dean’s Recon platoon was facing great danger to help others, and Vice Admiral Anders was covering his own ass so that if they failed it wouldn’t reflect poorly on the naval officer’s chances for promotion.

  “Anything else?”

  “No, you’re dismissed,” Anders said.

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Fatigue was getting the best of Dean. He was tired, but he forced himself to dictate a report outlining his orders and including Vice Admiral Anders’ feelings on the matter. Then he lay down on his bunk and turned out the lights. It was completely dark in the little cabin, and quiet. The sound of the air processors was the only noise, just a gentle hum that Dean normally found soothing. But at that moment, Dean felt frightened. He was twenty years old, a veteran of multiple combat engagements, and for the moment completely safe, yet he felt like a child sent to his room as punishment for something he’d done wrong.

  Dean didn’t want to die, and he didn’t want anyone in his platoon to die. But lying there in the darkness, all he could think about was the possibility of death, the very high probability that he would die on the mission he was about to undertake. He knew himself well enough to know that he wouldn’t turn away from the mission. There were people in danger in the New Wales system, and he would never simply leave them to their fate when he could possibly help in some way—but for the first time in his life, he wished he could refuse. He wished that he could resign his commission, find a quiet colony, and slip out from under the crushing weight of the responsibility that had been set on his shoulders.

  His wrist link vibrated when they were just ten hours out from the New Wales system. Dean had fallen asleep, and he felt better for it. He got up, showered, shaved, pulled on clean fatigues, and went to find something to eat. It was three in the afternoon according to ship time, but Corporal Franklin made Dean a plate of eggs with protein wafers that tasted like sausage. After eating, he went to the Ready Room and found Chavez already at work loading magazines of flechettes.

  “Morning, Captain,” Chavez said.

  “The ship’s clock says it’s mid-afternoon,” Dean replied.

  “Not by Recon reckoning,” Chavez said. “Everyone else is still asleep.”

  “Why aren’t you?”

  “I got plenty of rest. I also got that feeling I always get before we see action. You want to tell me what’s going on, or do I have to wait some more?”

  Dean told his staff sergeant about their mission. To his credit, Chavez didn’t say a word the entire time. He waited until he had heard everything Dean had to say before giving his opinion.

  “Makes sense,” Chavez finally said.

  Dean waited for the staff sergeant to say more. He expected Chavez to comment on how dangerous the mission was or how difficult it would be to achieve, but he didn’t do any of the things Dean thought he would.

  “That’s all you’re going to say?”

  “Orders is orders,” Chavez replied.

  “You surprise the hell out of me sometimes, Staff Sergeant.”

  “I’m a simple man, sir. Never figured on making it out of Recon alive. I just didn’t want to buy it on some rock on the fringe. No one wants to be bug food.”

  “This isn’t a joke, Chavez,” Dean said. “This is a volunteer-only mission. I won’t pressure anyone into it.”

  “No need to pressure me,” Chavez said. “The way I see it, this is the kind of mission we dreamed of. The kind of mission that really counts. You couldn’t leave me behind for anything.”

  “Well, I’m glad to have you beside me,” Dean said. “Let’s rouse the others, get them fed, then we can let them decide if they agree with your perspective on things.”

  “Ain’t no doubt about that, sir,” Chavez said. “Those specialists will follow you to the gates of hell and back.”

  “It’s the getting them back part that has me worried, Staff Sergeant.”

  Chapter 30

  “Here it is,” Dean said to his platoon, who had gathered in the Ready Room. It was the one place where they could be sure no one would bother them on the small escort ship. “We’ve been tasked with going to the New Wales system. You probably know by now that the Kroll have three of their ships in the system around Cymru. What you may not know is that EsDef sent an armada of six ships to deal with them. We’ve lost all contact with those ships, and with the system itself. The Hannibal has been ordered to observe and report, but we’ve been given a different set of orders.”

  Dean’s pause wasn’t for dramatic effect; he felt the weight of his orders and wanted to drive home the serious nature of what he was about to tell his specialists.

  “The head of OWFR has asked us to infiltrate the Kroll ships and rescue any survivors.”

  “Damn straight!” Adkins said.

  “That’s not all,” Dean said, before the rest of the platoon could join in the banter. “We’ve been tasked with taking control of one Kroll vessel and destroying the others.”

  No one commented on the new information, and Dean was pleased. He didn’t want a false sense of bravado overshadowing the serious nature of the mission. Everyone, at least in Dean’s opinion, needed to think through the implications before volunteering.

  “I know it sounds like a lot, but the brass is circling the wagons around Earth,” Dean continued. “We’re the only platoon with a chance to help the people on New Wales or the survivors of our own armada. We have to take the fight to the Kroll and make them respect us. We have to let them know moving against humanity’s territories will cost them more than they are willing to pay.”

  “We’ve been ordered to show no mercy?” Tallgrass asked.

  “That’s correct,” Dean said. “No mercy, no prisoners. We kill them all. But this is a volunteer-only mission. Anyone who doesn’t want to participate can stay here. No judgment, no pressure.”

  “Screw that,” Adkins said. “I’m with you, Captain. Always.”

  “Us too,” Wilson said, indicating himself, Carter, and Kliner.

  “I will volunteer,” Owando said cheerfully, as if he were offering to pick up ice for a party.

  “And me,” the Swede added.

  “I’m in,” Ghost said, looking at Harper.

  “Me too,” she said, nodding at Dean.

  “What about you, Staff Sergeant?” Landin asked.

  “I’ve made up my mind, but I don’t want my decision to influence anyone.”

  “I’m going. There is no question,” Tallgrass said.

  “Yeah, I
thought you’d see it that way,” Chavez said. “I’m with the Captain, all the way.”

  “You’re all a bunch of fools, but I am too,” Landin said. “Count me in.”

  That was everyone but Private Cody Loggins. Dean could see that the young man was struggling with his decision.

  “Alright, get to the mess hall and eat,” Dean said. “Then back here for a strategy session. We’re nine hours out from the New Wales system. Let’s make this time count.”

  Everyone filed out in front of Dean except for Loggins. The young private hadn’t moved. He was looking at the deck between his feet, his body radiating tension.

  “Private, I meant what I said,” Dean said softly as he sat beside the young Fast Attack Specialist. “The rest of the platoon has seen and fought the Kroll. We know what we’re getting ourselves into. There’s no shame in staying behind.”

  “I’m not staying,” Loggins said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “This is what I dreamed of…I’m just a little overwhelmed by it all.”

  “That’s normal,” Dean said. “Where we’re going, there’s no turning back. We won’t have backup. Everything is up to us.”

  “All the more reason that you need me,” Loggins said. “I won’t let you down, sir. I just need to get mind wrapped around it, that’s all.”

  “Fine, Private. Do what you need to do. Get your affairs in order, then focus your mind on the mission. Once we leave this ship, there’s no room for anything other than the fight in front of us. If you can do that, I want you with us. If you can’t, it’s better to stay here.”

  Dean wanted to be more encouraging, but he knew if Loggins hesitated he could not only get himself killed, but he could also cost someone else their life, or wreck the mission entirely. Dean knew he needed all the help he could get, but he didn’t want to force anyone into a fight they weren’t prepared for.