So, the Home Guard was going to show the flag of a united humanity, and if the opportunity presented itself, it would slap the hands of whoever was breaking the peace. And that meant that in three short weeks the battalion’s companies would be embarked upon various ships for a six-month pump.
One of their main missions would be to show the flag. Consequently, there were four port calls scheduled, which had the troopers pretty hyped. Unless you were rich, it was rare for the average citizen to visit much of humanity. Rev had been on seven different worlds, not including Enceladus and Titan, but fighting Centaurs was not quite the same as being a tourist. And for him, Barclay would be the highlight. The ship would represent the CoH at the planet’s landing day celebration, and if Sergeant Crocker in Second Platoon could be believed, his home planet knew how to party.
“OK, we’re up,” Sergeant First Class Gamay said, snapping Rev out of his thoughts and back to the present. “Let’s see if we can’t beat Third’s time.”
Rev stood and moved to the starting line. They may be scheduled to embark, but there was a lot of training left to do. Showing the flag was only one mission—the easiest mission. The fact remained that they were still a combat unit, so they had to be ready for any number of contingencies.
The obstacle course they faced now, set up in 1.5 Earth Normal, might not have much practical training, but it would help with forging teamwork. And, of course, Gamay had paired him with Kvat.
“You ready?” he asked the karnan.
“Born ready, oner.”
Rev rolled his eyes, but he knew the MDS trooper was going to do his best. It wasn’t just the squad leader who wanted to beat Third Squad’s time.
“Are you ready?” the course NCOIC asked.
“Hoey-hoey!” everyone shouted, the Home Guard equivalent of “ooh-rah.”
“On your marks . . . get set . . . go!”
* * *
“Finally, I got you,” Rev said.
“Oh, yeah, sorry, Rev. It’s just been crazy here lately. I’ve got my new job, you know, and I’m still learning. Putting in the extra time,” Malaika said.
“How is that, anyway? Going good?”
“Yeah. I like it. I get done every afternoon in time to go to play volleyball.”
Which didn’t jibe with what she had just said about putting in extra time, but Rev ignored that.
“Volleyball? I didn’t know you played.”
“I didn’t. Ten got me into it.”
“Ten? How is she?” Rev asked, perking up.
“She’s doing fine. Still in the regen chamber. I try and see her a couple of times a week, you know, for moral support. She hooked me up with one of the amateur teams, and I’m learning the game.
Ten had been a volleyball player before she’d been conscripted. Rev thought it must kill her to be stuck in a regen chamber for two or more years, so evidently, she was getting a vicarious fix with pushing Malaika into the sport.
It was good to hear that Ten was doing well and that Malaika was doing all she could for her. He knew the two had hit it off when they first met, but taking this much effort to help her was above and beyond. He should try and give Ten a call for a chat, but it was hard enough to find time to call his family and now Malaika.
Malaika was supposed to call him from the USO, but she’d told him that with her job, it was hard to get all the way to the USO, so he’d agreed to call her on her personal line. It wasn’t as if he was short on funds, after all, and at the Fort Nkomo USO, there were discounted outbound calls.
But she’d missed the last two scheduled calls. He’d expected her to miss this one, too, but she’d picked up on the second ring.
“Heard from anyone else? Bundy? Yancey? Tomiko?”
“Them? No. I don’t get together much with those who’re still in, and they were more your friends. Only Ten from your posse, as you called it. You didn’t know Lacey Moran, right?”
“No.”
“She was with Orpho and me in Alpha. Anyway, she’s already got a baby.”
Rev frowned and did the math in his head. “When did she get out?”
“Same as me,” Malaika said, the glee evident in her voice.
“But—”
“Yeah. The implant failed.”
All female Marines had been given anti-pregnancy implants for the duration of the war. All males had been given sperm blockers. So, if this Moran woman had gotten out only three months before, something had gone really, really wrong.
“Everybody’s talking about it. Some say she should sue the Corps, you know for messing that up.”
Rev wasn’t too sure that was a viable option, but Malaika was obviously into the story, so he just held his tongue. As he continued to hold his tongue for the next thirteen minutes as Malaika went down a list of gossip, most of which didn’t interest him in the least. Maybe he’d feel different if he’d gotten out, but as a Marine, they really didn’t seem like they were important at all. And that made him feel a little disjointed.
Am I that out of touch with civilian life?
As she went on, Rev wondered if she’d always been so interested in what others were saying or doing. He had to think back. Malaika was a fun, strong woman, and that was what had attracted him to her. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that she’d always been somewhat of a gossip. He just hadn’t noticed it before, too caught up as he was in her other qualities. Maybe he only now noticed it because the first blush of the rose was fading.
Not a particularly good look on you, Reverent, letting hormones cloud the picture.
He tried to be a better friend and pay more attention to what she was saying, but at eighteen minutes into the call, he had to interrupt her. “Hey, I’ve only got two more minutes before the next trooper has the line. I needed to tell you that I may be hard to reach for the next six months.”
Malaika was silent for a full fifteen seconds before she asked in a subdued voice, “Why?”
“We’re deploying. Part of the CoH’s show the flag initiative. I’m sure you’ve seen it in the news.”
Normally, military movements were classified. But for this, the command had encouraged them to spread the word as a means to drum up support. There had been quite a bit of news coverage, at least here in the home system. He had to think that the New Hope news covered it as well.
“I don’t remember it. So, you won’t be in the home system?”
Rev could swear she sounded disappointed, and he didn’t understand why.
“Yeah. I’ll be all over. Is there something wrong?”
“No. Of course not. I just like knowing where you are.”
Which was a weird statement, as far as Rev was concerned. He wasn’t on New Hope, so why should it matter if he was on Enceladus or a Mezame ship?
“I don’t know yet what the comms are like on the ship, but I’ll try and touch base when I hit a planet. And I can always send messages and cam clips.”
“I guess so.”
Uh . . . it’s not like I have a choice, Mala.
“Anyway, I’m on the thirty-second countdown. So, I’ve got to go. You take care, you hear?”
“Yeah, you too, Rev.”
“Miss you.”
“Me, too.”
Rev cut the connection with ten seconds left. He sat there for a moment, not quite understanding the scope of the call. Most of it had been him listening to gossip that didn’t concern nor interest him at all. Even when he made the attempt to be better at listening to her, it had been a little bit of a slog.
Rev got up so the next trooper could take the line.
“Nah. I told her I might not be able to call much, and since we’ll be embarking the next day, it will probably be pretty hectic the entire day.”
16
There was one thing that Rev wanted to do before they left the home system. He tracked down the squad leader, who was in the middle of inventorying one of the mount-out bo
xes.
“Sergeant Gamay, can I have a couple of hours?”
It felt wrong for Rev to call the Sergeant First Class “sergeant” instead of her full rank, but that’s the way it worked the Guard. Others called Rev, a staff sergeant, “sergeant” as well. But no matter if others used the term, he was never going to address anyone as “sarge.”
“A couple of hours? The day before we deploy?”
“I’ve got my IBHU crated and standing by for pickup, and Mr. Begay will handle that. Other than that, I’ve signed all the pre-deployment docs and have my personal gear packed and ready to go.”
“So, just because you happen to be ready when not everyone else is, you think you can just take some personal time?”
Rev stopped to consider her question, wondering what he’d missed. He wasn’t in charge of other troopers, and his own preparations were done. He essentially had nothing to do other than sit on his butt and watch holovids.
“Yes?”
The squad leader frowned, then said, “I guess there isn’t much for you, is there?” She hesitated for a moment as she considered it. “Where are you going?”
“Over to Barrister.”
“Barrister? First Battalion? You know someone there?”
“No. I mean, yes, I know a few troopers. But that’s not why I want to go.”
The squad leader waited for Rev to elaborate, but he stopped at that. Finally, she said, “Well, if you’ve got everything done, I guess I can spare you. But if you’re going to Barrister, take three hours. You never know about the connections. Just make it back before chow, OK?”
“Roger that. And thanks, Sergeant.”
Rev hurried over three corridors and down to the tram system. Camp Barrister was the home of the First of the Second. Like Second Battalion’s Camp Reyes and Third Battalion’s Camp Seong-Matris, it was part of Fort Nkomo, and Rev could walk from one camp to the other through the corridors, but it was a fairly long hike going into mainside, then out again to Barrister. With his limited time, it would be quicker to take the base tram.
He got lucky. The ring tram arrived within a minute, and he hopped aboard. The first stop was the Combat Training Complex, and twelve minutes after he boarded, he was getting off at the Barrister stop.
Enceladus’s magnetic field had been downloaded into Rev’s hippocampus, and with a map overlay, he had no problem finding his way to his destination. Twenty-three minutes after leaving Sergeant First Class Gamay, he entered the company office.
“Can I help you?” a corporal asked at his appearance.
“I’d like to see Lieutenant Vreemish, if I can,” Rev said.
“And who are you?”
“Staff Sergeant Reverent Pelletier.” He almost added “Perseus Union Marine Corps,” but he was supposed to identify as a Guardsman now, and if he said he was a Marine, then the lieutenant might not see him.
The corporal frowned, then said, “I’ll see if he’s in.”
Rev could see the corporal’s throat move as he subvocalized, but he couldn’t pick up what he was saying.
I guess I should have called first.
Rev had checked the company’s training schedule, and it was in an admin standdown, but that didn’t guarantee the lieutenant’s presence. He wondered if he’d wasted a trip when one of the doors to the side offices opened, and a karnan officer looked out. He caught Rev’s eyes for a moment, then nodded and beckoned Rev forward.
Like his platoon commander’s office back at Camp Reyes, it was tiny, with barely enough room for the large MDS lieutenant to scootch past the desk to take his seat. He motioned for Rev to sit down.
“What can I do for you, Sergeant?”
“Sir, I’m Staff Sergeant Reverent Pelletier. I came here from the Union Marines.”
The lieutenant’s eyes narrowed the slightest bit, and he said nothing.
“I was on Earth. The same time you were.”
The lieutenant’s eyes dropped to Rev’s prosthesis, and understanding flooded them.
“I know who you are. You’re the other one.”
“Yes, sir. I am.”
The lieutenant stood up and held out a hand. A little wary after dealing with Kvat, Rev hesitantly reached out and took it. But the lieutenant didn’t try and crush it. His grip was firm but reasonable.
“Well, Peter’s Beard, Staff Sergeant. I’m damned glad to meet you. Damned glad. I . . . I guess you’re here now?”
“Yes, sir. Second of the Second.”
“How did you find me?”
“It wasn’t difficult. Since all of us except for one are here in the Home Guard now, I figured that maybe you would be, too. I just had my battle buddy do a search and see if there was an MDS lieutenant here by the last name of the one who didn’t kill his Centaurs.”
The lieutenant nodded. “I guess I could have done the same thing. I should have. Not all of us are here, but we’ve got yoo . . . uh, we’ve got IBHU Marines here, too, so I could have made the connection. I’ve wondered about you, though. If I hadn’t figured out what was going on, and then if you hadn’t . . .” he trailed off.
If neither one of us had refused to slaughter the Centaur Three at our objective, the Mother would be a smoking ruin now.
“I was wondering, sir, if I can ask you a question.”
“Shoot.”
“How did you figure it out? Why didn’t you kill your Centaurs? Everyone else did.”
“Not everyone else. You didn’t, and you weren’t even in command, if I understand it correctly. But why didn’t I kill them? They weren’t fighting back, and that was unusual, to say the least. I needed to know why. So, I ordered my men to stand down, and I was taken to the Three. Long story short, I believed them. And the rest is history. What about you?”
“That’s the thing, sir. I didn’t think things through like you just said you did. I just reacted. My team leader, he wanted me to blow them all away,” Rev said, lifting his social arm and miming firing a weapon. “That’s why I was leading the assault. But something told me to stop after I killed the first two.”
“Instincts,” the lieutenant said. “Good instincts, I might add.”
“Seems like it was luck to me.”
“Bullshit. You may not think you were thinking things through, but you were.
Your subconscious was working it out. And that was because of your inherent ability to observe and analyze. That, and what I assume was a lot of combat experience.”
Rev wasn’t so sure of that. He still thought it was luck. But as Tomiko had told him more than once, if what he’d done in the war was just luck, then the gods of war must have made him the luckiest person in history. Occam’s Razor would indicate that there must be some skill and capabilities involved.
That wasn’t always enough, though. The finest Marine Rev had known, Staff Sergeant Mendez, had been killed on Roher-104. So there had to be luck involved, too, good or bad.
Rev opened his mouth, then realized he didn’t know what he’d been about to say. He wasn’t even sure why he’d come. But then it hit him. He’d just wanted to meet the other person who, if Rev had failed to realize what was happening, would still have saved Earth. By meeting him, it was as if the weight of the Mother’s very survival wasn’t solely on his shoulders.
And it was a good feeling.
“Hey, and I hope I’m not being too forward, but would you like to go out for a drink? I’m just doing paperwork here now, and I’d like to get to know you some more,” the lieutenant asked.
“Oh, wow, sir.”
“Lymon. Call me Lymon.”
“OK, uh, Lymon. I’d really like that, but I’ve got to get back. We’re deploying tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? You’re, what, Fox Company, right? And you came all the way to Barrister the afternoon before?”
“I just wanted to meet you before we go. A lot could happen between now and when we’re supposed to get back.”
“Isn’t that the truth. Well, I’m glad you came over to see me
. And when you get back, we’ll have to get together again.” He paused for a moment. Looking more than a little shifty, he lowered his voice and asked, “Have you ever had donat?”
“No, sir. Uh, Lymon.”
Rev had heard about it. Donat was the drink of choice among the MDS. Supposedly, it tasted like crap.
The lieutenant bent over and rummaged around in a drawer. He pulled out a small clear flask of a bright blue fluid and two tiny glasses. “This, Reverent . . . can I call you Reverent?”
“Rev, please. Just Rev.”
“OK, Rev. This is the nectar of the gods: Donat Azurco. This is what makes life worth living.” He raised his eyebrows in question.
Rev wasn’t sure he wanted to try it. Its reputation was pretty bad, and Rev wasn’t a huge drinker. Give him a beer or a cider, and he’d be happy. But he realized that the lieutenant’s offer was just as much a challenge as Kvat’s had been, even if this one was issued in a much more convivial situation.
That last challenge hadn’t worked out so great for him, and he realized that he was probably letting his competitive nature and ego make decisions again, but he’d always needed two or three lessons for things to sink in.
He nodded at the lieutenant.
With a broad smile, the lieutenant poured a finger-full into each glass. He carefully stoppered the bottle, picked up his glass, and held it aloft.
Rev followed suit.
“To . . . hell, I guess to the Mother, may she long endure.”
“To the Mother,” Rev said.
The lieutenant downed the drink in one swallow, then Rev did the same. Slow-motion lava poured down his throat, and it was only by pure force of will that he didn’t choke and spit it out.
“Nothing better in the galaxy,” the lieutenant said with a faraway look in his eyes. He quickly filled both glasses again, but he didn’t immediately drink his
An Uneasy Alliance: Book 4 of the Sentenced to War Series Page 14
