by Daniel Gibbs
“Yes, sir,” MacIntosh said.
“Of course, sir,” Dunleavy echoed.
“Good. Carry on, I’ve got another staff meeting back at my residence.”
34
Ruth absentmindedly pressed her uniform shirt down as she rounded the corner to the hatch that led to the commando’s area. It’d been a couple of days since combat ended, and the fusion weapons disarmed. Life was returning to normal. Except I can’t get Meissner’s death out of my mind. She paused for a few seconds, collecting her thoughts before she hit the button to open the hatch, and walked in. A quick look around the room confirmed only MacDonald was present. He was seated at the table in the middle of the room, tapping away at a tablet.
“Master Chief,” Ruth called out, suddenly not so sure being there was a good idea.
MacDonald looked up from the tablet. “Lieutenant,” he replied. “Please, come in.”
Ruth made her way over to an empty chair, pulled it out, and sat down.
MacDonald spoke first. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m not sure,” Ruth began. “I…” Her voice trailed off, and a tear slid down her face. “I’m sorry. I don’t normally show emotions. This is the first time I’ve cried in only God knows how many years.”
“Meissner?”
Ruth nodded as another tear fell. “I hold myself responsible for his death.”
“Why?”
“If it wasn’t for me, and my need to be a hero, he wouldn’t have died.”
MacDonald snorted. “Meissner didn’t die because of you. He died because he was willing to give his life so his brothers—and sister—in arms would live. Don’t come in here with some BS attitude about how it’s all about you, little girl.”
“I wasn’t saying it’s all about me,” Ruth protested, more tears falling.
“Look, LT, I get it. You sit at that nice console all day, press some buttons, then you go back to your bunk and probably get a nice hot meal in between. Down there on the ground, we’re all forced to deal with the reality of war. You made some calls. You’re headstrong, impertinent, stubborn, and annoying. But you were right,” MacDonald began. “Sometimes it takes a little idealism to break through the cynicism of a ground pounder. All of us, including Meissner, were glad you did. There’s a few thousand people down there that aren’t going to sleep tonight with the boot of the League on their throats. Does it suck my friend and brother had to die for it to happen? You’re damn right it does. I promise you, there’s a lot of bullets in my pack with Leaguers’ names on them to make up for it. Don’t dishonor his memory by coming in here with regret. Celebrate his life and our victory. It’s your victory too.”
Ruth sat mutely as tears streamed down her face. “Master Chief, it’s more than that. I wanted to punish the League… I wanted them to pay for what they did to my parents, to me, to my friends. No matter how many of them I kill, I’ll never even out the score. The need to make them pay…” Her voice trailed off.
“You think you got someone killed because you needed to feel good about killing Leaguers?”
Ruth nodded her head up and down between sobs.
“Let me allow you in on a little secret. Everyone, no matter how pure and noble their goals and beliefs, wants to put down Leaguers at some point. And yeah, if you let it get in the way, good people die. As much as you may want to even up the score as you put it, I still think you’re an idealist that wanted to help. Sometimes just as dangerous, but a far purer motive,” MacDonald groused.
“Why do you do it?”
“You mean why am I in special ops?”
“Yeah… I mean, it’s got to be the hardest job in the universe.”
MacDonald picked up the tablet and tapped on its screen a few times before turning it around to show Ruth a picture of a middle-aged woman and three teenaged children. “This is my family. My wife of twenty-three years, Amber, two daughters, and a son. A long time ago, I decided I didn’t want my children to have to grow up and do a job that every day left them in a position where they’d have a reasonable chance of killing another person or being killed in a given twenty-four-hour period. It’s no life. I know, because I’ve lived it,” he said as he put the tablet down and stared at Ruth intently. “So I dedicated myself to being the best soldier anywhere in this galaxy. I challenged myself to join the best of the best, and I’ve had the honor of leading them in missions that made a difference. That’s why I’m here, LT. So maybe just maybe, my kids don’t have to do this job too.”
“Very noble of you,” Ruth replied.
“Any father or mother would do it. Nothing special about me. But back to you. If you’re looking for absolution, go see a priest… because I can’t offer it to you. What I can say is, all things considered, it was a good op. We did our jobs and our duty.”
“Did Meissner have a family?”
“Ex-wife, mother, and father. No kids. A lot of us don’t have families. It’s bad enough when you’re on a ship for three months at a time. We get called to action for nine- to fifteen-month stints and can be sent on a mission with two hours’ notice at any point. Not very conducive to making a family work.”
“You seem to have done pretty well at it,” Ruth said.
“Thank my wife. She’s got the patience of a saint and is the glue that holds our family together.”
“Would you allow me to be there when his body is taken off the ship? I want to pay my respects to his family,” Ruth asked, finally in control of her tears.
“You’d better be. If you’re not there, you wouldn’t be half the person I think you are, LT.”
“Thank you,” Ruth said, her eyes downcast.
The hatch swung open, and the rest of Alpha team filed in; they were all wearing battle dress uniforms and had clear sweat stains across their chests. “Lieutenant!” Harrell called out; he was in the lead. “Good to see you.”
“Likewise, Senior Chief.”
“What brings you down to spacewalker country?” Rostami asked.
“Just had to ask the Master Chief something,” Ruth said, forcing a smile to her face. She turned toward MacDonald. “I suppose I’ll be heading out. Colonel Cohen always has the ceremony to offload the fallen thirty minutes after we dock. I’ll see you then.”
“Take care, LT,” MacDonald replied.
Ruth stood, and as she flashed a smile at the rest of the team, started walking out the hatch into the passageway beyond. MacDonald’s voice stopped her. “Attention on deck!”
Puzzled, Ruth turned around to see all five members of the team, standing at crisp attention, with their shoulders squared. Caught off guard, it took her a moment to bring her hand up and return the salute. “Carry on, gentlemen.”
“Yes, ma’am,” MacDonald said, something approaching a grin present on his face.
Turning to leave once more, Ruth stood just a little bit straighter as she set off. I must get better at this. David is a great role model. I’m going to set my mind to watching how he does it and find a way to start putting the pain behind me.
MacIntosh gave his uniform a once over as he tossed back the remains of his first cup of coffee. I need to be a few minutes early this morning. Cohen owes me a status report on Freiderwelt. He walked out of his cabin on Canaan’s central orbital space station, which doubled as the fleet headquarters of the Coalition Defense Force. Five kilometers in diameter, it was a floating city housing millions.
It took the usual fifteen minutes to reach his office, during which he listened to a few chapters of a book he’d meant to read but never had time to, electing instead to consume the audiobook. I can’t remember the last time I had a day off. Be plenty of time for that when this bloody war is over.
His adjutant, Major Melanie Roberts, was already present and chipper as ever, greeting him as he walked into his office. “Good morning, General MacIntosh!”
“Good morning, Major. Anything important for me right off?”
“No, sir, but Colonel Cohen is waiting on the vidlink
for you.”
“Ah, to be young and still full of energy,” MacIntosh said with a grin. “Send it through to my office.”
“Yes, sir.”
Walking through the inner doors to his private office, he hastened to sit behind his desk and pull up the vidlink application, not wanting to waste the credits. David’s face soon appeared. “Good morning, General,” David said, as chipper as his adjutant. “Good night’s rest?”
“When you get to be my age, Colonel, you’ll value getting through the night without having to pee more than twice.”
“I’ll take your word for it, sir.”
“Freiderwelt. Status?”
“As I indicated in my report last night, sir, the League garrison surrendered without much in the way of a fight. There was localized resistance, but nothing organized.”
“I take it we have Alpha team to thank?”
“Yes, sir. I’d recommend medals for all of them.”
MacIntosh nodded. “While it was supposed to be a simple recon mission, I’ll take this result. President Spencer is delighted to boot.”
“I’m glad, sir.”
“I need you to clear something up for me. What’s the status of this League officer, Pavlecheck? Something like that.”
“Pavlik, sir. Major Vladislav Pavlik. He ordered the League forces on the planet to stand down and shot his commanding officer to prevent him from killing thousands of civilians with buried thermonuclear charges. Those charges have been removed, by the way. EOD finished up the last one this morning.”
“That’s well and good, but your report recommends giving him a new identity and stating in our official records he died in combat. Care to explain?”
“I think he earned it, sir. First and foremost, many inhabitants of Freiderwelt praised him as a fair representative who tried to take care of them and ran interference against his CO. By all accounts, he was a decent man.”
“A decent man working for the enemy.”
“He also provided actionable intelligence to Colonel Sinclair and his folks. Passwords and access to numerous information storage systems, and their entire military network.”
“Why can’t we simply put him in a POW camp again?”
“Because as a higher-ranking officer, his family will be treated harshly if the League learns he surrendered.”
“Are you proposing we give him a new identity and resettle him in the Terran Coalition?”
“After a fashion, sir. Many Amish families on Freiderwelt have stepped up to offer a place for him in their own homes.”
“And since they have no technology, the galaxy will never hear from him again.”
“Yes, sir. We’ll also know where he is if the spooks want to pick the major’s brain again.”
“Against my better judgment, I’ll approve it, Colonel.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Have you finished turning over the prisoners from the Monterrey to intelligence?”
“Yes, sir,” David answered. “I’m a bit perplexed as to why they're not immediately put on trial.”
“You’re one of my more intelligent officers, Cohen. You figure it out,” MacIntosh remarked dryly.
“Command hoped to keep it secret?”
“Got it in one, Colonel.”
“Something this big can’t be sat on,” David observed. “We’ve seen single traitors before. They’re usually motivated by money.”
“Yes, but not like this. Every officer on the vessel, excepting the ship’s doctor, was a damn traitor. You have no idea how badly that’s shaken some members of the joint chiefs.”
“I’d be lying if I said it hadn’t shaken me. After some reflection, I see a lot of danger in snap judgments or a rush to look for a traitor under every rock.”
“President Spencer already quashed a proposal to administer lie detectors to every CDF and TCMC officer.”
“Dear God… That would be a morale disaster of epic proportions.”
“Preaching to the choir, Colonel. But I’m glad you approve.”
David smirked. “It might be early on Canaan. Still, the sarcasm is spot on as always, sir.”
“That’d better be a compliment,” MacIntosh groused as he allowed the trace of a smile to grace his face.
“Always. I’m here for the good humor… and showing the League the door.”
“Speaking of which… there’s a GNN reporter headed to the Lion. Before you depart Freiderwelt, give him an interview without biting his head off.”
“I’ll do my best, sir. Anything else for me, sir?”
“Now you’re trying to manage your boss off the vidlink?”
“No, sir,” David replied hastily. “Just mountains of paperwork to do.”
“You’ve got an XO for most of it.”
“On a ship with nearly ten thousand people on it, sir, both of us spend most of our time pushing paper. There’s not enough bandwidth to go around.”
“Military life, Colonel. You’ve got a few more years of it in you.”
“That I do. Ever think about life after this war, sir?”
MacIntosh was silent for a moment. “Not really. It’s consumed my entire life, since the first battle of Canaan, all those years ago. An entire generation has spent its life at war. I’m sure there’ll be something for this old soldier to do, once the war is finally won.”
“I look forward to it myself.”
“I take it you have some plans from the way you asked the question.”
“Yes. I hope to resume my rabbinical studies, marry, have a family. Do… normal things.”
“Good luck with that, Cohen. I’m too far gone.”
“Lying awake at night thinking about the next battle, sir?”
“No. I don’t lie awake at night. I keep the League awake at night with nightmares of whatever new ship or tactic this command will come up with next.”
David laughed loudly. “Amen, sir.”
“Don’t light up the reporter,” MacIntosh repeated.
“Aye aye, sir.”
“Alright, Colonel. Wrap it up out there and head back home. We’ll top off your supplies and get the Lion ready for its next patrol.” And take the deceased off for proper burial. We always leave off that point.
“Understood, sir. See you next week. Godspeed.”
“It was a good show you put on out there, David,” MacIntosh said. “Carry on and Godspeed to you too.”
The screen blinked off, leaving MacIntosh alone in the quiet of his office. He set the tablet down and put his head in his hands. God help us all if the threat from traitors is more widespread than just the one ship.
35
“What made you decide to ask the Nussbaums to take you in, Major?” Ruth said toward Pavlik. They were both seated in the aft compartment of a TCMC shuttle, along with a single enlisted Marine, who sat ramrod straight in his harness, silent as a church mouse.
“Just Vladislav, or Vlad, please. I’m no longer an officer,” Pavlik began. “That part of my life is over.”
“Do you regret it?”
“Such a loaded question, Lieutenant. I would say there are aspects of my service to the League I regret. There are, on the other hand, things I will cherish the rest of my life. I believe I made a difference for good. I also believe in the ideals of socialism and think it’s a superior form of government to the unbridled capitalism of the Terran Coalition.”
“I disagree, but I respect your opinion,” Ruth said neutrally. “Truth is, having a civil conversation with a League officer is something I never thought I’d do.”
“Because we’re all monsters that need to be shot?”
“I think the description fits more of your fellow soldiers than either of us would care to admit.”
“My argument back to you is that war brings out the worst in everyone who participates in it.”
“You know what the real difference between the Terran Coalition and the League is, Vladislav?”
“Something tells me you’re abo
ut to explain it to me,” Pavlik said with a trace of a grin.
“The rules, and how they’re enforced.”
“What do you mean?”
“Justice is equal under the law in our system. Your system, there’s one set of rules for the party elites, another for everyone else.”
“Do you seriously believe everyone on your side of the border gets equal justice? What’s the phrase that comes to mind… oh yes, the best defense money can buy. If you have money, you have more pull.”
Ruth shrugged. “Sure, but you’re still judged by a jury of twelve common citizens. We’re not without our flaws, but I’d never want to be anywhere else. I thank God every day for the privilege of being born as a human within the Terran Coalition.”
“I used to count myself as lucky to be born in the League.”
“That would imply that you changed your mind.”
“After what I did, it’s no longer my home.”
Funny, the feeling called duty. Leaguers have it too. “Do you regret helping us?”
“No. Massacring a bunch of innocent civilians because some party apparatchik ordered it is morally wrong. You don’t need to be a Christian or a Jew to see that.”
“Fair enough,” Ruth replied. “You know what being a Jew helps me with, though?”
“Avoiding unhealthy food?”
Ruth couldn’t help but laugh. “I suppose. No, it helps me to remember there’s a reason for the rules beyond just what another human or alien species say they are. If God says something is wrong, then who am I to say anything differently?”
“An interesting argument, Lieutenant,” Pavlik replied.
“Back to my first question you so artfully dodged. Why the Nussbaums?”
Pavlik steepled his fingers together. “A few reasons. One, their farm is the furthest one out from the rest of the settlements. It stands to reason I’d have the least amount of interaction with others there.”