A Hero

by Stephen Arseneault

  Screams rang out. Plasma flew. More bodies exploded. It was clear these were not the same level of troops we had encountered before. For a moment, I had the thought the number of Togmal we faced, close to five thousand, was a meaningless value. These were rear guard. And their leadership, much like our own, was abysmal. We sliced through the retreating group, almost as if it wasn't there. Hayden was working his knife with Sheila and Art close behind.

  We reached a stairwell going down. I pressed a half-squad into service watching our backs and securing our way out should it be needed.

  A comm came from the lieutenant as we hustled down a set of stairs. "Gunny, command is contemplating a retreat. Unless they make progress in the next ten minutes out in that field, expect the order to pull back."

  I gave a quick reply, "In a firefight, sir, will comm you back when it's over!"

  "Understood."

  I stationed another half-squad at the stairwell opening to the third and then the second floor. The whumps from plasma rifles firing echoed down the stairs as we reached the first floor. There was no attempt by troops to attack from above. I called my stationed squads to join us.

  We turned the corner into the lowest hall, running right into the middle of a company of Togmal. They were far from prepared for the attack. Screams of panic were followed by moans of pain and cries of terror. Our combat knives were getting a workout like never before.

  We plowed our way through the crowd, turning a corner into the hallway that led to the central exit onto the field. Seconds later, our full platoon of Union Marines broke into the light of day, again catching the Togmal fighters by surprise.

  We crashed into their ranks as they hid behind a berm. Without thought, hundreds charged over the mound of dirt and into the open, attempting to avoid our wrath. Our sharpshooters out in the field cut them down. As we hacked, slashed, and fired our plasma rounds, the whole of the Togmal defense collapsed. I felt as though we were fighting a herd of cattle who were unable to fight back. It was a slaughter.

  A comm came in from the lieutenant. "Gunny. Prepare to pull back. Something is happening down in the field. The Togmal may be preparing for an assault."

  I fired off several rounds from my rifle before giving a reply. "We're down at the main entrance, sir. I would suggest you engage, or you may miss the fight."

  A sensible order finally came from command. "Advance from all positions!"

  The field out in front of us became unsettled. Eight companies of Marines charged forward. I ordered my people back inside. Our squad at the end of the hall was in a firefight but were holding their own. I glanced over my shoulder to see our regiment closing fast.

  As the rest of our company, led by the lieutenant, charged into the fourth floor, eastern entrance, the feeble Togmal defense folded. They called a full retreat. Togmal soldiers streamed out of the south exits.

  The gunships the colonel had ordered showed at just the right moment. A second slaughter of the Togmal rear guard took place. An hour later, the structure was under our control. The last of the surrendering fighters were shoved out into the field for holding.

  The assault on the Togmal structure was a resounding success. Cheers rang out as we celebrated a hard-fought win. Our transports landed beside the captured building and we were soon on our way back to base.

  The colonel earned a promotion as did our lieutenant and most of the field command associated with the assault. Reports were fudged and glossed over, to make those in charge seem like heroes. In the final details, my platoons’ efforts went unmentioned.

  Elsewhere, the attacks at Richland had also proven successful, although at a much higher cost of lives. The reports of just how many were dead were reworked and manipulated to place the victory in the best light. I would not complain. The people needed a win. We had retaken a colony we had lost. It felt good to be human again.

  Over the next four years we pushed the Togmal from each of our colonies. Our regiment was involved in fifteen of the seventeen major engagements of that period. Seven lieutenants commanding in our company earned their captain's bars. A promotion did not come my way. If one had, I would not have accepted it. I was killing Togmal and felt I was in the best position to keep doing so.

  That changed after receiving a comm from TC. "Ray. First let me congratulate you on your regiment's success. The 7th is the talk of the elites back here in the Union."

  "Thanks. Does this comm have a purpose?"

  TC was quiet for several seconds. "I suppose I still deserve some of that. And yes. It has a purpose. I'm pushing to make you an officer."

  "Why? I have no desire to be an officer. Most of them sit back and give direction from afar. I want things up close and personal."

  "Understood. I've been investigating and it seems this reluctance by the officers in the Marines to 'get involved' is recent. There was a time when company commanders were up front and leading. That was before politics crept into their ranks. Now that reluctance to engage has become the norm. I believe it to be a huge detriment not only to leadership, but to morale."

  "Now that we can agree on. But what does that have to do with me?"

  "As you know, we have our own private force here at Echelon, providing the protection we need. I've read the reports from your efforts in the field, Ray. I'd like you to come back and lead our defense. We've had multiple attacks here on Echelon. Our force turned those attempts back. But each raid is growing more powerful. I'm not happy with recent results."

  "Why would you want me? I've done nothing special. Haven't you read the reports?"

  "I have. I then made certain I had access to the actual field reports. Each of your direct commanders gave credit to your platoons for almost every victory your regiment has fought in. You are a hero, Ray. At least your COs believe it to be the case."

  I smirked. "I'm surprised we pulled out victories on most of those ventures. I would chalk those wins up to the Togmal seeming just as inept as we are. Our equipment fails, constantly. Our leadership is indecisive and overwhelmed. And no one up and down the chain of command seems to care about our troops. We are just fodder sent into battle hoping to scrape out a victory."

  "You seem jaded with the Union, Ray."

  "Seeing what I've seen, good people dying because of useless mistakes, how could I not be. I can't be your defender, TC. I have another four years on my service contract. And the Union is auto-renewing all those contracts."

  "I can make it happen, Ray. I have connections. You could bring along as many other members of your company as you see fit."

  I hesitated in thought for several seconds. "What is it you aren't telling me, TC? You wouldn't be making this offer, or spending your political energies on something like this, unless you had a strong motive. I know you too well. What is it?"

  Thomas Goodall clasped his hands in front of his chest, wringing them together. "What I tell you is in the strictest of confidence, Ray. You can tell no one."

  I nodded. "I've got no one to tell. Out with it."

  — Chapter 29 —

  * * *

  TC leaned into his camera for emphasis. "Changes are coming in this war, Ray. Big changes. And those will not be changes for the better. Each of those colonies you fought so hard to recover, may soon be lost."

  "What are you saying?"

  "I'm saying we are expecting a massive Togmal force to strike in the next few months. Come back to work for me here on Echelon. I can ensure you and your team will have the finest equipment and fighting ships. Ships that rival or surpass those of the Union fleet. I want protection for my colony, Ray. We need this ore to continue to flow. The Union building new ships depends on it."

  "I'm not a fleet officer, TC. I'm boots on the ground. If your private ships are as powerful as you say, what use would you have for someone like me? When would I ever see another Togmal? Furthermore, why would I abandon my fellow Marines when you say a major attack is coming?"

  I felt my irritated mood was turning into anger. "Look.
If you want to help the war effort, do something about our equipment. How many times do I have to say this? Our power cells fail. Our ships are breaking down. Even our boots. My current pair has had a latch snap on it three times now. We're being outfitted with crap. Can't you round up your corporations and do better?"

  TC sighed. "I wish it were that easy, Ray. As I said before, we have contracts. It is the Union side of things that is broken. Much like our military leadership, the entire contract process is little more than political awards. Designs for new, better, more reliable power cells are sitting at the wait. But our politicians don't want change when that change means another politician will possibly receive benefit.

  "The Union is corrupt, Ray. We're virtually fighting two wars. I've been in the fight for reform, along with my father, since all this began. We see the danger. We see the need. Yet our hands are tied by an outmoded system.

  "In the meantime, as you say, our own people suffer for it. Defeat of the Togmal will only come through making the hard decisions that put us into a position of strength, not the hodge-podge mess the Union is today. Join us, Ray. Help us defeat this scourge on humanity."

  "Sorry, TC. I'll pass. I'm needed right here on the front lines. Your private military will have to come from somewhere else."

  "I'll only ask you once more. I believe this is a huge opportunity for you, Ray. An opportunity to be on the winning side. Between the corporations we have six of the colonies, like Echelon, that are private. We are putting together a defense force like the Union has never seen. I want you aboard, leading the Aarlis Corporation faction."

  I shook my head. "What of Estelle? Are you certain she's not gonna squash your effort?"

  "Estelle has wised up, Ray. She's matured. She sees this war and how it's being conducted for what it is, a losing proposition. She has also read the unfiltered field reports about you, Ray. They impressed her. That's something difficult to do. Estelle is aboard with this move. Come back to team Aarlis."

  The display I was watching split in two. An image of Aarlis Goodall showed on the second half.

  "Rayford. You've heard Thomas's pitch for you to join us. I'm here to second his motion. We want you, Rayford."

  The appearance of Aarlis Goodall was something I wasn't expecting. Not that I didn't value the standing of TC, but before me was one of the most powerful men in all the Union. He was personally asking for my leadership skills. My annoyance with TC faded. You just didn't say no to Aarlis Goodall. Nobody did.

  "Sir. It has been a long time. But I don't think I'm the person you are looking for."

  "Nonsense. You have shown time and time again in the field you are a good decision maker. Come to work for us, Rayford. The Aarlis corporation needs your guidance for our defense. You will be a key player protecting a quarter of the wealth of the entire Union. And before you say there are better qualified candidates, I'll say you're wrong."

  I was quiet for several seconds as my mind raced. "Can I have time to consider this?"

  Aarlis pursed his lips. "Hmm. I can give you three days, Rayford. As I'm certain Thomas told you, the Togmal are preparing to attack. We have to move forward with our efforts if we want success. I can assure you both the pay and benefits will be lucrative and the budget you will receive will be generous. You will also have full access to our labs, research center, designs, and anything else you deem necessary to keep our assets safe. What say you, Mr. Jackson?"

  I tapped my fingers on the table in front of me. "Three days then, sir. I'll have a definite answer."

  "Fair enough. I look forward to your decision."

  The split screen flipped back to a single as the connection to Aarlis ended.

  TC raised his hands. "Come on, Ray. That's the closest I've ever seen my father get to begging. He wants you aboard as much as I do. Make the right decision here, Ray. Come with us."

  I drew a small amount of satisfaction by closing the comm on TC. The offer was serious and was the best opportunity I would ever have for making myself wealthy. But wealth was not my driver. My drive was to kill as many Togmal as I could, for as long as I could. It didn't take me long to decide the position was not for me. I commed TC back an hour later and declined.

  Hayden sat across from me. "What gives? You've had this intense look all afternoon."

  "Was just mulling over some personal options, that's all."

  "Sounds serious."

  I looked around at the other Marines who occupied the barracks with us. "You think we're winning this war?"

  "Of late? Yes, I do. We have all our territories back and we're busier than ever working to fortify them. I heard two new battleships are being commissioned this week. That doubles the number of big ships we have out here. What's not to like about that?"

  I wanted to blurt out the important intelligence detail I had just gotten from TC, but that had burned me before. Instead, I chose to be vague.

  "I think these victories are short-term wins. The Togmal haven't been throwing their best at us."

  "You think we're being tested?"

  "Possibly."

  Hayden chuckled. "Then we are passing. At least if kicking their asses is passing."

  Art came to stand beside us. "One of you looks happy and the other not so much."

  "Gunny is having a bad day."

  Art asked, "That wasn't command you were on the comm with earlier, was it?"

  I shook my head. "Not command. Maybe someday I'll tell you about it. Just not today."

  Art nodded. "Sounds serious."

  "That's what I said," Hayden smirked. "Great minds think alike, huh?" He held out a fist for a bump, then stood. "I'm gonna see what Sheila is up to. She disappeared about a half hour ago."

  Hayden strode off to search.

  Art crossed his arms. "I have a knack for judging people's moods, and something tells me you are very unhappy. Spit it out, Gunny."

  I wasn't certain why I chose Art over Hayden at that moment. But I needed an ear to listen. For whatever reason, I felt more connected with Art. Maybe it was the stories about his kids. Or perhaps it was the way he refrained from jumping to conclusions. Whatever it was, I asked for his confidence and then spilled my guts.

  He at first thought I was crazy for not accepting the position on the spot, but as we discussed it further, he understood, and felt the Marines was where I belonged also. They needed me. My presence would save lives. He wasn't very trusting of the corporations and their motives, which was one reason he had joined the Corps instead of the normal workforce. We talked about my decision for over an hour before an ecstatic Sheila came bounding toward us.

  Art looked up with a smile. "You look awful happy about something."

  "I can tell the two of you, but you have to keep your mouths shut."

  Art curled the fingers of his right hand several times. "Out with it."

  Sheila sat down. "You're looking at the new Director of Defense for the Aarlis Corporation."

  Art looked my way with his eyebrows raised. "You took the offer?"

  Sheila returned a confused look. "Wait. How did you know?"

  Art grinned. "They offered it to Gunny a few hours ago."

  Sheila pulled back. "What? You turned it down? Are you nuts?"

  "I'm needed here," I replied. "I can't kill Togmal from a high-back, leather chair."

  Sheila leaned in. "You see. That's the whole thing. You don't have to. You can order others to kill them by the thousands."

  Hayden entered the other side of the barracks, throwing his hands in the air that he had finally found Sheila.

  She looked back and then at each of us. "You're both coming with me, you know that, right?"

  I shook my head. "I turned it down for a reason. But it thrills me to see they offered it to someone else who makes good decisions."

  Hayden sat with us. "Good decisions? Who? You aren't talking about this one are you?"

  Art chuckled. "Careful what you say. She may be your new boss."

  "Boss? You got a pro
motion?"

  Sheila grinned. "Of sorts."

  "I didn't know they gave out 'sort of' promotions. What are you saying?"

  Art nodded toward her. "She's going private."

  "Private? Correct me if I'm wrong but going from a sergeant to a private is not even a 'sort of' promotion."

  "Private industry."

  Hayden held up his hands. "I must have missed a key part of this conversation. Can someone fill me in?"

  Sheila placed her hand on his shoulder. It was a touch from the woman he had openly pursued, a woman who had done everything imaginable to dissuade him.

  "They offered me a position in private industry, and I took it. You are looking at the new Director of Defense for the Aarlis Corporation."

  "What?"

  Hayden's expression was one of extreme skepticism.

  — Chapter 30 —

  * * *

  Art said, "It's true. She's going private. Aarlis himself asked her to."

  Sheila shook her head. "No. It wasn't Aarlis. It was Thomas. His son. And I said yes. A shuttle will be here in four days to pick me up."

  Hayden frowned. "What about your contract with the Corps?"

  "This is the Aarlis Corporation, numskull. They do what they want. They will void that contract the moment the shuttle lands."

  "Why in the Union would they want you for that position?"

  "Uh, hello. I've been on the winning team here. Nobody in the Corps has more battle testing than us. Gunny said it earlier, I'm a good decision maker when the heat is on."

  Hayden glanced at his shoulder and Sheila's hand. "You're still touching me. What's that about?"

  "They told me I could bring anyone I wanted. All I have to do is give Thomas Goodall a comm with the names."

  Hayden tilted his head. "Me? Work for you?"

  "That is the offer. And they told me I could set your pay and benefits. And give you whatever position I want."

  Hayden chuckled. "I've been looking to get a position under you for about five years now."

  After an eye-roll, Sheila straightened her posture to look more like an executive. "Yeah. Unfortunately, that banter will have to stop. We'll be moving to a professional environment. I expect we'll be spending time with CEOs, politicians, and other dignitaries. So, we have to go in with you understanding I'm the boss, knowing I also answer to others."