TC stood and paced the room with his hands clasped behind his back. "This agreement to conduct the war. I believe my sister is working behind the scenes to make it permanent. She wishes to abolish the Union. I may be powerless to stop her."
I crossed my arms. "I... I don't know what to say to that. And saying anything could be viewed as treason."
On the inside I was about to burst. I wanted to agree with his statements, but something was telling me to hold back.
TC turned. "Are you saying you are okay with the current state of affairs?"
— Chapter 35 —
* * *
I held up my hands. "Current state? I have no real issue there. We're winning these fights and that's what we all agreed to do. There have been rumors about some of the corporate execs being abusive, but I've not seen any of that myself. When you say permanent, are you talking about when the war is over? Doesn't the agreement state you will return all governance back to the Union?"
"It does. But would it disturb you to know there were certain loopholes within the agreement? Loopholes that would allow The Corporation to continue having control so long as they thought there was any threat?"
"I'm not sure what you are asking of me, TC. Would I like to see the Union restored after all this is over? Yes. But that's not an issue for just me to decide. It's for the people to decide." I chuckled. "And when this war is over, if you guys could leave the Union a bit cleaned up from where it was, corruption and all, I don't think anyone would oppose that either."
The conversation continued for another half hour. I was careful not to come down on one side or the other. The entire visit seemed contrived. When TC left, I was uncertain of his true purpose for the meeting, but I was certain my loyalty was being tested.
As soon as I stepped off his shuttle, the order for departure came down. We were heading to Haven. I had last set foot on the ground there five years before. With our new gear and support, and with me commanding my own company, I was eager for the attack to begin.
Since returning to combat, command placed my company as the tip of the spear in each engagement. Repeated, secretive warnings from Sheila had me mindful that Estelle wanted to see me dead. On the last warning, I asked Sheila to stop. I told her she was only endangering herself. She agreed but committed to providing the continued support I would need to fight and win.
The battle for Haven was massive, lasting four months. The Togmal ground fortifications were well designed and heavily defended. Simultaneous assaults were waged against fourteen strategic sites. We lost half of the three hundred fifty thousand Marines who deployed.
My company saw two-thirds of us going down as casualties. I came out of the fight with gashes and contusions to my right arm, but otherwise unharmed. I spent most of a week in the infirmary before I was again certified as ready for duty.
Most of the new Marines assigned to my company were veterans. I took the time to address those who were completely new to the fight. They were compelled to enlist and were rushed forward after enactment of the Conscription Act by The Corporation. Every citizen was now subject to being forced into the war.
My talk was short and to the point. They were here. It was up to us whether we fought hard and won or cowered and lost. Defeat meant certain death, where victory gave us dignity and the respect of others, with a much higher chance of surviving to fight again. When the speech was over, I felt I had delivered one of the best of my career.
The majority of the fighting beyond Haven, taking several years, was in space. Our fleets were winning. The cost in lives and material was high, but we were pushing the Togmal back on every front. We were fast approaching what was being dubbed as the battle of all battles. The Richland colony, fortified with over half a million Togmal warriors, was waiting. Our next mission was to take it back.
The Togmal were dug in—hard. Their air defenses were the best we had seen. While our fleet ruled the heavens, new Togmal missiles prevented us from using our gunships over their fortifications. It was setting up to be a bloody ground conflict, and my regiment and company would be first into the fight, again.
Art sat across from me in the mess hall where officers and enlisted now shared space. "What's on your mind, Captain?"
It had taken a pair of conflicts and several years, but Art had mentally returned to the fight. While not jovial as he once was, he was now committed to killing as many Togmal as he could. He was also committed to keeping the rest of us alive... so we could all kill more. In each fight he had been out front with me, leading the way and inflicting all the pain, suffering, misery, and death we could muster.
I would not admit it to him, but the loss of his wife constantly brought thoughts of my own loss back to my mind. It took every ounce of concentration and focus on our goal, defeating the Togmal, to keep me from breaking down.
"Richland," I said. "I keep going back to that first encounter."
"Dumb leadership is what that was. I still can't believe I made it out."
"Same with us."
Art huffed. "You at least had that hill. All I had was Togmal closing in on me. Hmm." Art looked at a far wall in thought. "Lieutenant Davis. Haven't thought about him in a while. He was the one good thing about that company. Gave it everything he had right up to the end. If I go out on Richland, I want it to be like that."
"Dead is dead, Sergeant." Art had earned his stripes after Haven. "We make it through this time and we're close to seeing the end."
His next statement caught me off guard.
"Can't say I'm eager for that like I once was. What do I go home to now? This war is all I have."
That comment brought with it a stream of thoughts I had tried to avoid. When my revenge was complete, what would I go home to? Where was home? They were questions I had to push to the back of my mind.
"You and me both. But we'll figure it out. There will be clean-up work from all this for a long time. We'll settle into something. And know when that time comes, I've got your back."
"My back." Art chuckled. "Would rather have you out front."
I smirked. "Used to be we wanted Hayden out front."
"You hear from him at all?"
I shook my head. "Not for almost a year now. Sheila said they ordered him to not talk to any of us. Last I knew he was enjoying the work but was concerned about the direction the corporate leadership was taking."
"What do you mean?" Art asked.
"I've already said too much."
Art leaned in. "Hey, you know they'd have to tear out my heart before I rolled over on any of you, right? Should this agreement concern us or not? I mean, I'm all for winning this war, but if there's to be any life after this, we'll need our freedom back. Not looking to be some corporate slave."
"I really shouldn't be saying this, but I think the corporations are setting themselves up to maintain power and control. I had no love for the Union as it was being run, but those politicians were there because of our own careless votes. With this new setup, we don't have votes."
Art gave a half smile. "Sounds like you'll be looking to get into corporate politics."
"At this point, I don't know what I'll be looking to get into. Probably nothing but trouble."
Art chuckled. "You and me both, Partner. You and me both."
The battle in the Richland system was as deadly as any we had seen. The Corporation committed almost every available warship in the fleet. Most did not return, but the victory was ours, and with it the Togmal fleet was smashed.
We landed on Richland two weeks later. As expected, the fighting was bloody—fierce. The Togmal had six fortifications guarded by close to ninety thousand of their best warriors at each. Our division was the first to engage in four of those fights. The ground war ran on for five months.
By the end of the battle, the Corporation Marines numbered fewer than fifty thousand out of the two hundred twenty thousand we had landed. Our less-experienced Army troops took an equal beating, losing most of the half-million who followed
us in. In a single engagement, we had lost 80 percent of the assault-capable ground force in all our military. It had been an all-or-nothing fight.
During the struggle on Richland, my right hip took a hard blow, cracking the bone and damaging some of the tissue. For days I lay in a hospital bed, fearing I would miss out on the rest of the war. I had to laugh at myself for the thought, knowing it was physically better to be laid up than being on the front lines and fighting. But my brain was screaming at me to demand a release. So, I did. An order from Estelle granted my wish.
They released me a week early. I was in a wheelchair, but determined to do whatever it took, no matter how much pain, to get back in the fight. I was surprised upon return to the base, a three-rank promotion was waiting for me. I was being rewarded for my bravery, effort, and victory over the Togmal at Richland. They gave me command of the 1st Marine Division, 7th Regiment, with the rank of a full-bird colonel. New recruits were on the way.
After the presentation, a man in a black uniform rolled me to a low-lit conference room and shoved me inside. As the door closed behind me, I faced a dark silhouette at the other end of the room.
Sheila stepped into the light with a grin. "Hello, Ray."
I glanced back at the door. "Aren't you taking a risk being here?"
"I am. If Estelle knew she would have me flogged and spaced. But I wanted to come and personally thank you for your service."
"A full colonel? I'm guessing you were behind this?"
"I've been trying to move you up the ranks without showing my hand. This time it was easy. Your performance out there qualified you for this in every way. Estelle will be livid when she finds out but you have the eye of Aarlis himself. Also, TC has done nothing but speak your praises. So, I had you promoted to colonel. When this is over, they plan on making you a military hero."
"Me? What have I done to deserve that?"
"Are you kidding?" Sheila laughed. "Not a Marine in the entire Corps has more combat experience than you. You've killed more Togmal than anyone out there. You survived it all. Your name is already being passed around as a hero back on Earth. All part of Aarlis' plan. A little banged up with the hip, but a winner all around."
I knew what she meant with her statement, but I snapped out a response, anyway. "A winner who lost his family."
Sheila showed remorse. "I'm sorry, Ray. That didn't come out as intended. What I came here today to let you know is you don't have to fight anymore. This war is all but over. From what our intel tells us, there is only one small fleet left out there. That fleet is the last of the Togmal."
"What do you mean? How would you know?"
"I'll let you in on a secret. We have the knowledge we've been seeking all these years. The Togmal fled their sector of the galaxy because of a star gone supernova. The gamma radiation was killing them. They had to move. Now, why they fought rather than joining us as peaceful partners and neighbors, who knows? I don't know if we'll ever understand why they chose to fight. What I do know is everything they have left, their entire population, is right here in this sector."
"Can I assume they don't just pop out as adults? Why have we not seen any children, or females for that matter?"
"This last fight at Richland, the fleet we encountered had dozens of ships of a type we hadn't seen before. After evaluation of the wreckage, we discovered they were egg ships. The Togmal were preparing to rebuild their population, starting right there on Richland. Had we given them another decade, intel believes we might have seen five billion of them entering adulthood. Our scientists said they mature fast and live just as long as we do."
"That planet would have a hard time supporting five billion."
"Precisely. They were planning to take over, Ray. Permanently. That same intel said a decade after that population boom they would surpass the total human population."
"So, this one last fleet and the Togmal will be dead?"
"That is the plan."
"So, a fleet battle?"
"We're not certain. Their last known direction took them toward Bitma Station. If they stop there, we'll just have to take them down the hard way. We'll know if that's what happened in another two days."
I rolled forward. "If that happens... Bitma or any other ground-type engagement, promise me here and now you will allow me to fight."
"I can't make that promise, Ray. But don't fret. Estelle has already let it be known the 1st Division of the Corporate Marines, 7th Regiment, will be the boots they send in to finish the job."
I tilted my head to the side in question. "Are you serious about that?"
"I am. I was hoping this promotion would at least keep you at the back of the troops, giving commands. Regimental commanders are not front-line."
"Not a chance. I have to do this. For myself, for Denise and Pea, for Art's family, and everyone else we lost."
Sheila sighed. "If this happens, you need to promise me you won't do something crazy just to get yourself killed, Ray. Your survival is now essential to The Corporation... and to everyone else. You are our poster-boy for how we fought and won this war. When this is over, they have big plans for you. You'll be an ambassador, convincing the people why keeping the corporations in charge is good for them."
"Get me in this fight, and the corporations can parade me around in front of whoever they want. And do something to get me out of this wheelchair."
"That discussion with your doctors has already happened, Ray. They'll be performing a special procedure that should give you full mobility back in a few days, with enough time to heal before reaching Bitma."
Sheila gave me a quick hug before she disappeared into the hall. My escort rolled me back to the landing area. I had a grin on my face at the thought of killing off the last of the Togmal. A shuttle ride took me to the hospital where the procedure was performed. Everything was moving fast.
I exited rehab after only two weeks. Our fleet left for Bitma the following day. We were charging into our final fight.
My emotions were on fire—elation over the end being near, depression over the cost, anger over how it had all transpired, and wonder over what was coming next. Our assault transport arrived to find a ship-battle already underway.
As the warships fought it out in the surrounding space, our transport docked with the station and my regiment stormed aboard. We began our mission of killing every Togmal we could find. The fighting was fierce, running for seven hours before we reached a central hub. In disappointment, I was commanding the assault from the rear.
But I couldn't allow the fight to go on without me. As Regimental Commander, I ordered the top-level control be assigned to my subordinates. I took command of a single squad of eight Marines. We blasted our way down the final corridors—toward where the last of the Togmal warships was docked.
I fought with everything I had, driven and determined. We were winning, and the last of the Togmal were dying en masse. But as fate would have it, our enemies took the life of Arthur T. Mayhew only minutes before we reached our goal.
It was the one thing I had feared most in the final months of the war. My best friend was dead, and I had no time to grieve. I had to fight on. I had to see the war finished. I desperately wanted to see the last Togmal die.
When it came to the end, I was standing with my Marines. My chin was a bloody mess. I stared out the transparent walls of the station as the concluding fight of the war unfolded. The last of the Togmal warships disintegrated in front of me. And suddenly, the Togmal menace was no more.
In that moment, as the adrenaline coursed through my veins, I knew the war was over. We had won. I had survived. Twenty years of suppressed anger and hurt came rushing to the surface.
My emotions were running wild. I experienced a profound feeling of depression over my loss and then elation for our victory. Those feelings were quickly tempered by an equal sense of foreboding over what might come next with The Corporation. The event was overwhelming.
I dropped to my knees and wept. I wept for my wife,
Denise and daughter, Pea—captured on a transport and ejected into the cold, dark void of space, then vaporized, only weeks after the war had begun, so long ago; I wept for the loss of Art on Bitma, and for his family—slain by the Togmal on Demos IV; I wept for the millions of citizens and for the thousands of Marines I had fought alongside who did not make it through. My tears of sorrow and joy formed a spattered puddle on the floor.
This was it. The endless war with the Togmal was over. Finally, over...
— Chapter 36 —
* * *
The Corporation was quick to capitalize on the event. A sleek shuttle docked with Bitma. Four black-uniformed corporation guards met me as I was returning to my transport.
"Colonel Jackson. You are to come with us."
It was a twelve-day ride, going all the way back to New Hope, headquarters of The Corporation. I slept most of the way, depressed over the loss of Art. It was a far from pleasant journey.
After arrival, an aide led me into a tall, modern building. I glanced up at its mirrored glass exterior as I entered. He escorted me onto an elevator and up to the 32nd floor, the penthouse. When the door opened at the top, TC, Estelle, Sheila, Hayden, and Aarlis Goodall were waiting to greet me.
TC was first over, taking my hand in his for a firm shake. "We did it, Ray. You did it! All reports have come back that the Togmal at Bitma were the last. There are no more. All dead. The threat is over. We've won!"
Sheila was next with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Badass finish, Ray. Sorry about Art. We were all watching on your helmet cam."
Hayden followed. First, almost crushing my hand with his shake before pulling me in for a bear hug. "Way to kick ass out there, Ray. Man, I wish Max and Art had made it through to see this."
Estelle was waiting when Hayden set me back on the floor. She placed her hand on my cheek and smiled, talking through her teeth. "You just keep winning, Ray. I don't know what to say."
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