by Daniel Gibbs
“No, sir. Your orders seem quite straightforward, as always, sir.”
“I’m glad you approve,” MacIntosh cracked, a rare smile on his face. “How’s Colonel Demood doing?”
David shifted in his seat and pursed his lips together. Ah, that’s a charged question. “He’s progressing, sir. Discharging his duties with his usual vigor.”
“We can’t afford any screwups,” MacIntosh said, which David took as a statement more than anything.
“Yes, sir.”
“Okay, Colonel. I’m on to my next appointment. Good luck, good hunting, and Godspeed.”
“Godspeed, General. See you after another successful patrol.”
“Don’t count your chickens before they hatch,” MacIntosh complained as he killed the connection.
Staring at the now blank screen, David began to run the dual missions through his head. Not having the ability to offer direct support to the commandos bothered him, but orders were orders. Freiderwelt… Ruth was born and raised there, he remembered from a conversation long ago. I’ll ask her about this and see if she has any insights the commandos could make use of. He pulled the administrative cue up on his tablet and went back to work.
David decided that instead of calling Captain Singh up to his office, he’d stretch his legs and go down to Marine country. Nestled in the bowels of the ship, the tier-one operators had their little enclave, with a private space for each commando. He swung the hatch open, and even though he was the commanding officer of the Lion, he always treated the Special Space Warfare teams with the utmost respect. “Greetings, gentlemen!” he called out.
“Colonel on deck!” Master Chief Petty Officer Gordan MacDonald called out. Only he and Captain Rajneesh Singh were present; both came to attention.
“As you were,” David immediately replied, and both men relaxed. “Captain, Master Chief. Good to see you as always.”
“Same here, sir,” Rajneesh said. “What brings you down to our part of the ship?”
“I do rather enjoy admiring your toys,” David responded with a grin, pointing toward one of the specialized battle rifles on display in the small cage each commando had. Incredibly customized, the tier-one teams used weapons and technological gizmos that the Marines and ship’s security details could only dream about handling, much less being issued. “But I’m here on business today. The Lion was tasked with doing a stealth insertion behind enemy lines. I need you to put together an op plan to drop a team on Freiderwelt. League-occupied border planet, limited civilian population. The objective is to gather intelligence, specifically on planetary defenses and how best to neutralize them in preparation for an invasion.”
“Simple recon?” Rajneesh echoed.
“No such thing as simple recon,” MacDonald said with a snort. “With respect, sir, I’ve been doing this for twenty-four years. Every single time we’ve been dropped on a League-held planet, it goes south.”
“First time for everything?” David offered back, then cringed. Wow, that was lame.
“Do you have an intelligence workup for us?”
“I’ll have Lieutenant Taylor get it over to you. SHAEF sent it about fifteen minutes ago.”
“There are things drones can’t tell you,” MacDonald groused. “Any HUMINT in that intel file?”
“No human-gathered intelligence on this one,” David replied. “Though I may be able to offer you some assistance there.”
“What’d you have in mind, sir?” Rajneesh asked.
“I’m sure you’re familiar with Lieutenant Goldberg, our TAO?”
“Of course, sir,” Rajneesh said.
“She’s from Freiderwelt and served with the resistance movement there.”
“That might come in handy.”
“Only if she can handle herself in a firefight. The last thing we need is a cake-eater liability on this mission,” MacDonald stated, then added, “sir,” as if he remembered who he was talking to.
David took it in stride, flashing a smile toward MacDonald. “I understand your concern, Master Chief. I have nothing but positives to state about Lieutenant Goldberg, however. I doubt she would be anything except an asset to you.”
“I think the help would come in handy, Colonel,” Rajneesh said while shooting a look at MacDonald. “How long before insertion?”
“I have broad discretion over when we drop you guys; I think you’ll want to use a stealth assault launder?”
“We’ve got a few down in the hangar for that purpose, sir,” Rajneesh replied as he grinned. “Nothing quite like a high-altitude, low-opening jump from sixty miles up.”
“I will take your word for that, Captain. Anything else you need from me, besides your orders packet and intel brief?”
“No, sir.”
“I’ll speak with Lieutenant Goldberg and make sure she feels comfortable with the assist. Pretty sure the answer will be yes.”
“Roger that, sir. I’ll get Alpha team prepped. We’ll be ready to go regardless of her status,” Rajneesh said directly.
“In that case, good day, gentlemen. Good luck and Godspeed,” David replied as he flashed a smile and turned on his heel to leave. One problem down, another fifty to go.
The hatch to David’s office swung open, and Ruth strode in. She looks quite refreshed; hopefully, the sign of a good night’s sleep. Ever the stickler for customs and courtesies, she walked to his desk, brought herself to attention, and announced, “First Lieutenant Ruth Goldberg reports as ordered, sir.” She was the TAO, or Tactical Action Officer, for the Lion of Judah; in combat, she fought the ship as David ordered and was responsible for all weapon systems onboard.
“At ease and have a seat,” David replied while gesturing to the chairs in front of his desk.
“What can I do for you, sir?” Ruth asked after dropping into the chair nearest him.
“We’ve been assigned a mission that I think you could help with.”
“Of course, sir. What’s the mission?”
“We’re sending a commando team to Freiderwelt,” David said, carefully observing her face as he spoke. “Drone recon is great, but my memory is that you were born there and joined a resistance cell.”
“After my parents were killed, yes, sir. I’ve been sticking it to the League for thirteen years now,” Ruth said with a grim smile. “They want a local guide?”
“Basically. It helps you’re military and I would assume you can handle yourself in a firefight.”
“Was in quite a few of those before I joined the CDF.”
“This is a simple recon,” David explained. “There’s a rather robust planetary defense system around Freiderwelt… SHAEF wants to know if an attack by tier-one operators could succeed, allowing for a fairly painless invasion. Without it, the fleet would take serious losses.”
“I wonder how many civilians are even left for us to rescue. It’s been a long time since the flag of the Terran Coalition flew over my home. I’ll do anything I can to help, sir. Sign me up.”
“Are you sure?” David asked. “I can’t begin to imagine what happened to you there, but if it's too much to relive, there’s nothing wrong with saying so.”
Ruth looked David directly in the eyes, her stare intense and unwavering. “I can handle it, sir. More directly, sir, I want to handle it.”
“Remember, recon… if all goes well, you won’t fire a shot.”
“Yes, sir,” Ruth said, her eyes continuing to bore into him.
“How’s everything else? Your performance evaluation is coming up,” David said, seeking to change the subject.
“Will I be writing it again this year?”
“Always,” David said with a smile. “I have to write most of mine too… military tradition. Given any thought to your next posting? You’re up for transfer next year.”
“No, sir. I’d prefer not to think about it.”
“It’s possible you could be deep selected for promotion,” David replied. “You might even aim for a posting as XO on a smaller ship with your experience set.
”
“Honestly, sir? If it's all the same, I’d rather get a waiver to serve on the Lion of Judah for another tour, assuming the war continues.”
“Those are pretty hard to come by,” David said with a grin. “Brass doesn’t want people getting comfortable. They want new ideas on ships, especially big ones like this.”
“I know. All things being equal, though, I like it here. The Lion is my family, and I think we’re better than the sum of our parts. Why mess with the formula?”
“Well, when the time comes, if that’s what you want, I’ll make the request,” David finally said. I’m going to have to think about how to prod her to leave the nest. Ruth’s got great potential, and I don’t want her to squander it on remaining at the same job for too long, even if she is the best TAO I’ve ever seen.
“Thank you, sir.”
“Okay, Lieutenant. I think we’re good. Report to Marine country this afternoon and meet up with Master Chief Petty Officer Gordan MacDonald. He commands the Alpha team. You’ll be inserting with them.”
“Aye aye, sir,” Ruth replied crisply as she stood up.
“Take care of yourself out there. Godspeed, Ruth. Dismissed.”
4
“Kiai!” Ruth screamed as she delivered a single sharp kick to the punching bag in front of her before launching in a flurry of punches that left her winded and wiping the sweat off her face. The officers’ gym was mostly deserted as the first watch was on duty, while the third watch was asleep.
“Taking out some frustration there, Ruth?” First Lieutenant Robert Taylor called out from behind her. He was the senior communications officer on the Lion of Judah, and the two of them had grown closer over the last six months.
“No…maybe,” Ruth said as she turned around, wearing a sheepish grin. “I got some orders today… they’re forcing me to remember things from my childhood I’ve tried to bury.”
“What orders?” Taylor blurted out.
“Colonel David wants me to go along with the commando team that’s being sent to Freiderwelt.”
“That’s where you grew up, right?”
“Yeah. Home. Place where my parents died, I was nearly raped, and where the hell that is my life started.”
Taylor winced. “It's not all bad. You’ve got friends here.”
“I know. I just… there’s a part of me that wants to do this mission. I pray to God I’ll be face to face with one of the men who inflicted so much pain on us… even more, I hope I can put him down. There’s another part which knows I have to give up this hatred before it consumes me.”
“I’ve been there,” Taylor replied earnestly. “Six months ago, when I volunteered to join Demood’s assault team against Unity Station. I thought what I needed was to put some Leaguers down with extreme prejudice, as the colonel would say. We both know it didn’t work out like that.”
“Still having nightmares?”
“Yeah, just last night.”
“I’m sorry,” Ruth replied, reaching out and squeezing Taylor’s shoulder. “It’ll get better.”
“That’s what the shrink says. All I’m saying is you don’t have anything to prove, Ruth, nothing at all. If you were looking to make up for what the League did to your family, I’m going to wager you’ve more than evened out the score by now.”
Ruth closed her eyes and looked away. “No matter how many of them I kill, I can’t bring the people I loved back.”
“I couldn’t either,” Taylor said. “I had to prove to myself I could take the fight directly to them, or at least that’s what felt right.”
“Are you trying to tell me not to take the mission, Robert?” Ruth asked.
“I’m just worried about you. Don’t sign up to get some revenge. Sign up if you think you can help end the occupation of your world and do some good.”
“What if I can do both at the same time?”
“Then I’d worry you were doing it for the wrong reasons,” Taylor said, his brow furrowed.
It’s sweet that he cares. I’m not sure I’m capable of caring even for myself, the way I am. I’ve hardened my heart as much as I think another human can. I barely form attachments as a coping mechanism. That’s what the doc said anyways. Ruth tried to smile, instead, she formed a sheepish grin and rolled her eyes. “Look, I’m not going to go full Demood on the place and absolutely, positively put every Leaguer on the planet down.” The last bit was said in a passable imitation of Calvin’s accent.
Taylor placed his hand over hers. “Promise me you're going to do it for the right reasons.”
“What’s the right reason?”
“To save people and beat the League.”
“Always. How are you doing?” Ruth said, changing the subject. “We haven’t been able to talk by ourselves in a while.”
“I’m always getting sucked in some new decryption problem, aren’t I?”
“Might make me wonder if you’re ducking me,” Ruth observed with a wry smile.
“Not at all. I’m hanging in there. The colonel warned me I’d kill people on that mission, and it would haunt me, change me, and stick with me the rest of my life. I should’ve paid more attention to him.”
“I’ve noticed he’s good like that,” Ruth replied. “I honestly haven’t cared for most COs I’ve been assigned under. Colonel Cohen is something different, though.”
“He’s a leader,” Taylor said. “Somehow, the man is capable of making me believe in myself, even when I’ve given up.”
“Not a bad thing either.”
“Hah,” Taylor answered while grinning.
“Want to spar? I’ve got to get cleaned up before watch soon, but I wouldn’t mind testing myself against those lightning reflexes of yours.”
“Anytime, Lieutenant,” Taylor said and winked.
Maybe he won’t run away like all the others did when they figured out how screwed up I am. “Let’s get this party started,” she replied, taking up a karate stance.
Later that morning, Ruth pushed open a hatch deep within Marine country, labeled as the staging area for Alpha team. The sight that greeted her was a spartan room with six individual storage areas, each containing unique weapons and supplies. She supposed that each commando had a specialty and customized rifles to go with it. There were six males, each with powerful muscles that she could see through their uniform shirts standing around a holoprojector in the center of the room.
“Good morning, Lieutenant,” MacDonald called out.
Ruth noted that no one came to attention. Then again, why would they? These guys have more combat ability than I’ll ever have. “Good morning, Master Chief,” she replied. “I understand you guys could use a local guide.”
It was like a cold blast of wind went through the room; Ruth felt the mood change in a second. “Let’s be very clear here, Lieutenant,” MacDonald replied. “We don’t need a local guide. Command gave us one. This team is the best of the best, elite tier-one operators who have successfully engaged the League more times than we can count. You are here to observe and answer our questions. You will not move unless I tell you to, you will not use your weapon unless I tell you to. Hell, you won’t speak unless I tell you to.”
Ruth was stunned; no words came out of her mouth while anger built within her.
“While we’re on the subject, you may outrank us, but for this mission, I have tactical and strategic command. Are we clear, Lieutenant Goldberg?”
“Yes, Master Chief,” Ruth grated out, her face blood red. “I don’t doubt your ability, nor the ability of anyone on your team. You will, however, respect my abilities. I grew up on Freiderwelt. I fought for a year with the resistance. I’ve earned my rank and my stripes.”
“That’s great, Lieutenant. Stay out of the way of the professionals, and this op will go just fine.”
Determined not to allow her anger to show, Ruth pressed on. “What can I do to help now, Master Chief?”
“Got any memory of landmarks that would be useful to us?”
&nbs
p; “If you can pull up the drone imagery, I’ll do my best,” Ruth replied. “Also, if we’re going to be working together, would you care to introduce me to your team?”
A darker-skinned man, who had the unshakable air being a nerd, stuck out his hand. “Petty Officer First Class Esmail Rostami at your service, Lieutenant. I’m the resident network and information warfare expert for Alpha.” Rostami had the country patch of the Kingdom of Persia on his shoulder with the emblem of Islam directly under it in the religion position.
“Pleased to meet you, Rostami.”
Another broad-shouldered man stuck his hand out. “Chief Petty Officer Amancio Carlos Mata.”
Ruth took his hand into hers and shook; they all possessed vise-like grips. “What’s your job, Mata?”
“Sniper. I’m the angel of death to the League of Sol,” Mata responded without a trace of irony or sarcasm in his voice. Ruth noted that his country patch was the Republic of Brazil and lacked a religious flag.
“I am Senior Chief Petty Officer Dennis Harrell,” the Caucasian man who stood to the right hand of MacDonald announced. “Second in command of Alpha team. Let me echo the sentiments of the Master Chief. This isn’t a mission for cake-eaters.” His uniform had the country patch of the United States with a Christian flag underneath it.
I’m not a damn cake eater. It was a term Marines and those who considered themselves real soldiers used to insult officers, civilians, and anyone who didn’t have a front-line military occupational specialty. “Point taken, Senior Chief.”
“Chief Petty Officer Ibrahim Ahmad, EOD specialist,” the tall, dark-skinned soldier next to Harrell said. “A pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant. I look forward to working together.” Ruth took note that his uniform had a Republic of Saudi Arabia flag on it, coupled with a Christian flag underneath. That’s a combination you don’t see too often.
The last man present reached across the table to offer his hand. He too was Caucasian, with the flag of the United States on his shoulder. “Petty Officer First Class Nicholas Meissner. Trigger puller, frogman, door kicker,” he said with a relaxed smile. “Pleasure to meet you, LT.”