Space Knights- Last on the Line

by Emerson Fortier

  “Yessah.”

  “Second.” He said, blinking as he studied his monocle. “This battlefield command stuff requires visibility. So you’re going to be issued some armor upgrades as part of your promotion. Go to armory after you pick up Staycoffe. It will only take a minute for them to attach. You’ll also have access to recordings of all of the melees your team has been in, and any duel any of the individuals have been a part of in case you want to review how Staycoffe’s team performed, or the performance of any individual. Any questions?”

  “Sir. I’d…” Moses wanted to thank him, but the thanks felt awkward in the face of all the orders he’d been given. An inadequate gesture when the Lieutenant Colonel was expecting so much from him.

  “Yes Sergeant. Spit it out.”

  “Sir I’d like to reassign Maxwell.” He said on a whim. Putting aside the thanks. “I think he would be better suited to the squires than to the Knights.”

  “The decision is yours.” Fyker said. One of his aides was tapping at a tablet as Fyker gazed at Moses. “Do as you wish, only don’t let your team become too dependent on its guns. I’ve seen team melees before where the swords fall on the guns, and it isn’t pretty. There’s a reason you have both, each supports the other. Lose one and they both go. Alright, go on, I have dozens of other officers to promote before i can get some sleep. Git.”

  Chapter 16: Moses // Officer’s Flags

  Moses found Staycoffe standing at the front of the tent as though he were a statue. As he emerged the man came suddenly to life, swiveling and slouching over to him.

  “Yer honor.” Staycoffe’s voice was low, despite the armor’s amplification. “What are yer orders?”

  “I’ve got to report to armory, then we should collect Kyra and have a, meeting I guess.”

  “A meeting?” Staycoffe asked. “What to discuss?”

  “The team. I want to know how you two will perform together.”

  “Ah. A meeting it is then yer honor. However you like it. I’ll go with you to the armory then shall I?”

  “Yes.”

  “Rightio. Lead on then Sarge. I’ll be right behind you.”

  Argo displayed the path on Moses’ heads up display and he marched along it while other shadowy figures passed them headed into the tent. “I’ve got another man for your team.” Moses said as they walked. “One of the Knights.”

  “Didn’t quite, cut it, did he?” Staycoffe said in a low purr. He chuckled. “Even with that long sword of yours. Seems a shame. Well, I’ll find a place for him.”

  “Do you have any men who might be a better fit for the sword?”

  “Well, a few are a terrible shot, and a few grumble about the cowards role they’ll play, but none has had any practice with the shiny ticklers, so I’d say no. Best they stay where they are. A sword down and a gun up won’t make much difference on the field of battle, if its my opinion you’d ask. I’d turn you all into gunners if it was I in the command, but I suppose that’s why it’s not me to lead.”

  “What did you do before?” Moses asked.

  “Oh, a little of this and little of that, yer honor. Had some experience with the guns, and the law. It’s why they put me in that spot, and likely why they made me yer assistant deputy. Played deputy time or two up to the northern end of civilization along the Mighty river. Stood before a judge too I did, but just in time for a sentence to join the war, instead of joinin the dead.”

  Moses didn’t quite understand for a moment, then the meaning of the words hit him and he stopped. “What did you do?”

  “I raped and beat a girl to death.” The man replied. He looked away from Moses as he said it. “Least ways, that’s what the jury said. There was no proof. Knuckles were clean as satin when they dragged me from her bed, but I was the one in the bed with her dead on the floor, and me, yer honor. with a splitting headache and no idea how I’d got there from all the drink. So, who’s to judge.” He shrugged. “I figure I’ll let God do the judgement, and I’ll just do the fighting. Seem to have some skill for it, I do. Yer honor. Sergeant. Sir. Better’n I seemed to have in the cities leastways.”

  It was a possibility that Moses hadn’t expected, though it made sense now that he was facing it. Criminals among the ranks, a way for settlement prospectors to deal with the criminal element in their communities that would also function as an investment. He wondered how many there might be in the entire army, and what he would have to do with this one who was, somehow, the first officer to get a post beneath him, leading the men he, Moses, was responsible for. Marloque came to mind for some reason and he wondered if his story about the reason he’d joined was strictly accurate.

  Staycoffe took Moses arm while simultaneously cringing away from him, and said in a low voice. “Only tellin you this, yer honor, you understand, cause you’d find it out if you looked me up, or the reason I come here. Prefer not to spread it around too much you unnderstand. Don’t want no trouble, and don’t plan to cause any. If you get my meaning. I’m not so bad as all that unless I’ve gone black out drunk in Jenny’s pit, and seein as the mess don’t serve liquor here, and it takes a mound of grass to drown a thirsting man. Well, you understand yer honor.”

  Moses nodded but still hadn’t made up his mind. He studied the man in the armor, as unremarkable as all the rest underneath the suit. He shook the man’s hand off of his arm and continued walking, still thinking. The man said it was drink, He might be unsavory, but, well, everyone had sins. Just because he had a black mark on him at home didn’t mean he wouldn’t make a good officer, plus Moses had no idea who to put in charge of them if not this drunkard or, rapist. The thought repelled him. Maxwell, maybe, but he wasn’t command material if Moses was any judge, and Fyker had recommended this, this bug eyed, cringing sharpshooter... but all the same.

  Moses stopped at the door to the armory tent and turned back to the squire. “There’s a woman in my team of knights.” He said.

  “Oh, yes yer honor, yes yer honor!”

  “I won’t regret having you on my team will I?”

  “Oh no yer honor, no, no, I’m just a simple man. Don’t want no more trouble, didn’t want the trouble I was in. Won’t nothin happen long as I’m here. I’ll shoot my own self if I ever commit some atrocity of a kind or another. On the good book I swear it, by his holy blood. Long as I’m sober.”

  “I’m not a creative man.” Moses said. His family had always treated him that way and he felt it more keenly then, faced with a situation he hadn’t prepared for. Cardino was the only one who ever treated him like he might be capable of something the others weren’t and Cardino was a long ways away.“If I do ever regret it, for reasons that put my team in danger, I’ll put you on the front line without a sword, and give a blessing to the men that kill you.” Again, Moses felt that sense which had overtaken him with the lieutenant colonel, a sense of being prepared to do whatever it took to prepare his team for the battle approaching daily. Even this criminal could be part of that.

  “Yes yer honor, yes yer honor. As you say, as you say.”

  Moses waved his hand, a meaningless gesture meant to, he wasn’t sure what, make it feel final or something, and ducked into the tent. The man was Moses’ responsibility now, the Lieutenant colonel had said so. Now he’d said something to him. He hoped he wouldn’t have to follow through. “Is there a way for me to know if there are other criminals on my squad?” Moses asked his AI.

  “There are two thieves in the squires, and a debtor among the knights.” Argo replied.

  Not so bad then, Moses thought. It could have been much worse.“Who is the debtor?”

  “Pete Small.”

  That made sense. No Marloque though.

  The armory was emptier than when he’d arrived two days ago to be issued his armor. One corner of the immense tent was still occupied by shelves and racks, a large area even if it was dwarfed by what was left of the tent, the empty space now occupied only by the tables which marked an outline of the cramped alley that had ex
isted between the shelves.

  “The Lieutenant Colonel sent me.” Moses said when he reached the only occupied table near the shelves.

  “Palm on the screen.” The man said in a bored voice. He held out a tablet and Moses placed his hand on the screen. It beeped and the man looked at the readout. “Sergeant Moses Smokoska. Right, i’m to issue you sergeant’s insignia and insignia for two team leaders. Stay right here.” He disappeared amongst the shelves and re-emerged a moment later with long bundle which he dropped on the table, disappearing again and returning with a small box. “Shoulders.” He said.

  Moses turned first one shoulder to the man, then another and the nameless, armorless sergeant, affixed the sergeant’s bands to his shoulders. A single bar on each shoulder intersected as though to form a cross. “Turn around.” Moses turned and felt the man fixing something onto the armor. There was a drilling sound and the sergeant told him to turn.

  “Alright, AI, I need you to run the flags through their paces. You can extend and contract the poles. Let me see you do it.” Something shifted on Moses’ back. “And the flags.” The Sergeant said. “Let me see them.” He nodded. “You’ll want to see yourself I suppose.”

  The sergeant gestured for Moses to follow him and put him in front of a mirror down one of the racks. On his shoulders were the sergeants stripes, dark against his silver armor, making his new rank clear to anyone that wanted to see, but clearer, were two poles, four to five feet in length, that stuck up from either shoulder blade in a narrow V, and two bright red flags which fluttered from them. He turned a little to see his profile and the numbering for his team and battalion, an “I” and an “II” prominent in dark lettering on each flag.

  “Congratulations.” Argo said through his headset. “You’ve managed to make us the biggest target on the very front line.”

  A smile split Moses face in a slow wave and he removed his helm so that he could see himself without the heads up display cluttering his vision. He hadn’t seen himself in the armor yet, and with the flags and the sword on his back, he looked every bit the warrior he’d imagined he should in the battle of his dreams. The flags to proclaim that he was not afraid, that he was ready, that he was coming. It made him want to dance, or roar into battle. His aches and pains and the emotions and responsibilities of his commission forgotten.

  “Flags can fold up for storage or to go incognito or whatever you need it for, and there’s a static strip in the cloth that will keep it from getting in the way of your shoulder turret or sword. Your AI will have to extend the shield to cover them, but otherwise, it should be pretty clear what their purpose serves. Here.” The sergeant handed Moses the box. “Two more sets of stripes in there, team lead stripes. You can put them on your team leads yourself.”

  Moses turned and found Staycoffe a short distance behind. He gestured for Staycoffe to approach and fumbled a set of shoulder patches out of the box. “Let me see your shoulder.” The badges were sticker decals, simple to apply, but if he got them wrong they would stay that way. He carefully applied each bar to Staycoffe’s shoulders, a bar like his own but without the downward pointing arrow through the center. When it was done he stepped back. “There. Now it’s official.”

  Staycoffe bobbed his head. “Thank you yer honor. Thank you.” He mumbled, and when Moses pointed to the mirror he gave himself a cursory look without any interest.

  Others entered the tent as Moses and Staycoffe stepped back out into the blinding darkness, illuminated every now and again by the flash of the plasma artillery falling from overhead.

  “Argo.” Moses said.

  “How can I be of service?”

  “Now that I’m an officer, can you connect me with Kyra?”

  “I can connect you immediately.”

  “What about my brother?”

  “Once he is assigned to your squadron, you will have access to his communications as well. Until then, I am still not permitted to make that call.”

  A moment later Argo announced Kyra’s name.

  “Sergeant Smokoska?” He heard her ask from the other side.

  “Moses.” Moses said. “It’s Moses Kyra.”

  “Moses?”

  “Yes. Meet me by the mess tent.”

  “Okay. What is it?”

  “You’ll see when you get there.”

  “Sergeant!” was the first thing she called when she saw him, helmetless beside the still armored figure of Staycoffe. He was absurdly proud of his flags and he’d kept them up, reluctant to put away such majestic equipment. “I was supposed to be the officer for our team!” She said it with a laugh as she ran up and shoved him in the chest. She was unarmored, still with the pistol at her hip, so he didn’t even feel the shove.

  He grinned. “You still will be.” Moses held up the team lead stickers. “These are for you.”

  Her jaw dropped in mock awe. “Shut up, you get to make me, and officer?”

  “Where’s your armor?” He asked.

  “Back at my bedroll.” She snatched the stickers from him and held them up so she could see them by the light of one of the lamps on the corner of the mess tent. “Shut up.” She said to herself.

  “I brought someone for you to meet.” Moses said. She turned and Moses introduced her to Staycoffe, trying not to think about the murdered girl he was supposedly here for.

  “A pleasure to make yer acquaintance miss.” He said, shaking her hand without taking off his helmet.

  “Daniel is going to be our squires’ team lead.” He told Kyra.

  “You gonna hide behind that mask of yours or do I get to actually meet you?” Kyra asked him.

  “As you wish miss.”Staycoffe replied. He pulled off the helmet and grinned his broken grin, both bulbous eyes latched onto her. “Pleasure to make yer acquaintance.” He said again.

  “And yours.” Kyra said.

  Staycoffe opened his mouth to say more, but glanced at Moses and closed his mouth, shoving his helmet back over his head. “Beggin yer pardon. It’s mighty cosy in here. Rather stay buttoned up, if’n the lady don’t mind?”

  She waved a dismissive hand and looked at her shoulder badges again. “Momma would never believe it.” She said.

  “We’ve got squad melees tomorrow. Squires and knights on the same field. I’ll want to meet your team Daniel. Where are they stationed?”

  “Oh they bed down where they please. I wasn’t their officer till but a minute ago. You like I collect em all in one spot tonight?”

  “Tomorrow.” Moses said. There would be time for everything tomorrow. “I wanted you to meet Kyra for now. Come find me in the morning during breakfast, and we’ll put together a plan.”

  “As ye wish… yer honor.”

  “Until then.” Moses said.

  Staycoffe made a half bow, then a salute, then scurried off into the night, an armored figure that melted into the shadows.

  “Obsequious fellow isn’t he?” Kyra said. “Do you think he’ll make a good team lead?”

  “I don’t know what obsequious means.” Moses replied, uncomfortable in his ignorance.

  “Oh, it means…” She waved after him. “Whatever. Eager to serve? Whatever he is. Too eager to serve. Makes you wonder how he ever got team lead. We didn’t get saddled with the crappy squires did we?”

  “They’re supposed to be the best.” Moses said. “We’re the elite squad. The top twenty five.” He stuck a thumb over his shoulder. “First squad in the first platoon.”

  “Wow, look at that, they even gave you flags!” It was as if she hadn’t noticed them, even though, in the darkness, the static charge that allowed Argo to keep them out of the way also gave them a very low red glow. “Man they gave you all the cool stuff.” She punched his shoulder again and grinned.

  She grinned all the way back to their sleeping pads, grinned as she put the stickers onto her shoulder plates while he climbed out of his armor into the clean air, grinned as they lay down and she watched him across the small gap between their pads. Even wh
en he rolled on his back to study the stars through the warp effect of the camp shield he could feel that grin pointed at him. She pulled her pad up until it was bumped against his and put her head on his shoulder, whispered “I knew we’d make a good team.” and made herself comfortable. Moses was reminded of his confession and closed his eyes.

  “Lord Jesus.” He thought, remembering his penance , now only two days old. “I love you, and I trust in you.” He hesitated, then rested his own head against Kyra’s and remembered Lisa on that last night when she’d rested her head on his shoulder in the same way. The two girls smelled different, but he couldn’t have said how. It had only been a few days but his memories of her details were already fading. “I am sorry for my failings.” What failing? A part of him asked. When in the day had he had time to fail his Lord. Was it a sin to find Kyra attractive? The only woman in the whole camp? Was it a sin to allow this bond to grow between people that would fight together? The joyful feeling which had come with his commission and the flags faded as he remembered sitting with Kyra in the twilight. Perfection was the call that Jesus made when he came to mankind, so Cardino used to say. To be perfect in virtue. Could he really claim that? There was always another day, another temptation, another battle to fight, a harder and harder thing to do on the path which led to the grave, the only path any of them ever could walk, even if he would be prolonging it to care for the soldiers he’d been committed to protecting by Lieutenant Fyker.

  “I commit myself tonight, to an ever greater love of you.” He whispered. You who gave your life for the world, and told us to love our neighbors as ourselves, to love Kyra, and to love Lisa, and Maxwell and Staycoffe and Ephesus and all the rest, and to die for them, or live now, the harder thing that. “Tomorrow and for the rest of my life.” He continued. May it be a short one he thought, and a good one. “Amen.”

  He thought again of the black figure he saw in his dreams, and pictured himself charging towards it, only now he was armed with the glowing sword, shielded, and with flags waving above his shoulders, while beside him, behind him, other men hurled themselves towards that same dark foe. Could death be defeated? He didn’t think so. But it could be faced, as the Lieutenant Colonel had said. It could be faced together. Maybe that was what he’d really wanted, the thing his father had really been asking about, if he would die beside his family, or find another place to dig his grave. Moses wished he could have spoken to his Ephesus about it. Cardino said that teaching was sometimes the best way to learn, and Moses still had so much to learn about giving his life. It would have to wait until tomorrow. Everything would have to wait until tomorrow.