Cain leaned out from under a large branch. “It looks like a beautiful day,” he quipped. “Pack everyone up, we’re moving to the rainforest road!” the major ordered his two lieutenants.
“You’re kidding, right?” Stinky blurted.
Cain lost his smile and looked to make sure none of the recruits had heard. “No. We need to be able to operate in all weather. This is good practice. It’s not about how much it sucks, it’s about how we can make it suck more.”
The lieutenants headed into the open, Pickles and Zisk had their skin suits open and were enjoying the rain. They roused the recruits through some hearty yells and even a few kicks. The ‘cats were having none of it, but Stalker offered that the Wolfoids would walk on all fours and the ‘cats could walk underneath. At least they wouldn’t be in the heart of the downpour. They formed the platoon and started hiking. The sergeant led the way and the lieutenants took each flank. Brutus was inside Cain’s blouse, but that didn’t make much difference. They were both quickly soaked.
Someone had found Cain’s bat and returned it to him. He leaned on it as he walked, giving his knee as much rest as he could manage. At least he wasn’t loaded up with meat like the recruits. They’d eaten for three days, so there wasn’t as much as there could have been.
Ascenti rode on Bull’s back while two ‘cats walked beneath him. The Hawkoid could have flown, but he would not have been able to see anything. The rain was a steady wall.
The sound of a heavy vehicle came through the rain. “Scatter and go to ground!” Cain yelled. The Wolfoids and ‘cats bolted, the humans stumbling after them. The majority headed toward the rainforest while the rest looked for scrub brush and other ways to conceal themselves.
Cain dropped in place and pulled his blaster. He was exposed, but not being up for running, he had little choice. He waved Stinky and Pickles toward the trees and they ran after their people. Brutus hunched inside Cain’s blouse, hissing. He had no idea what was coming. It didn’t have a mind or a soul that he could touch, but it made a noise that grated on every fiber of his being.
Cain crouched as a metal behemoth crawled into view. He didn’t know such vehicles were at New Sanctuary, but was that a correct assumption? If it hadn’t come from there, then where?
He opened his neural implant. ‘Holly, are you seeing this? I’m going to start shooting pretty soon if nothing changes,’ Cain informed the AI. His screen washed out and a buzzing filled his mind. The vehicle slowed as it approached. Cain remained on one knee, trying to decide where to shoot the boxy beast. It stopped and a ramp slowly descended. Twenty feet in front him was a large empty vehicle. Inside, seats lined both walls and a double set ran down the middle. It looked like it had room for the entire platoon.
What if it wasn’t controlled by Holly? Why would his neural implant not work? Cain kept his blaster aimed at the vehicle as he walked halfway up the ramp, then jumped to the side, continuing around the massive construct. It was twenty feet wide and ten feet high. Cain guessed that it was forty feet long. Thick transparent material covered small portholes running down the sides. The major couldn’t tell if it was glass or something the ancients brewed up in one of their labs.
The front of the vehicle looked just like the back. He’d heard about the undersea tractors and wondered if this was one of them. “It’s raining enough, eh, Brutus? We could be on the edge of the ocean and not even know it.” He looked down to see that he was standing in water partway up his boots.
He continued circumnavigating the vehicle. “What are you doing here?” he asked it. The construct didn’t bother to answer as his implant continued to buzz, showing white noise in the window.
“I need three volunteers!” Cain yelled into the rain. He heard splashing as five recruits ran to the lowered ramp. “That’s almost three. I should have expected you’d be here, Stalker. You’re with me. You, too, Spence and Tobiah. Bull, you and Ascenti wait out here. If the ramp starts to close, we’re going to get out of there.”
Stalker tried to go first, but Cain held her back, motioning her to the right and slightly behind him. This gave him the largest field of fire since he was the only one carrying a weapon. Spence and Tobiah brought up the rear.
As Cain cautiously crossed the threshold from the ramp to the interior of the vehicle, his implant started blinking. The major raised a hand to freeze everyone in place. Tobiah jumped onto the seat and continued past Stalker. Cain pointed at Spence and then Tobiah, but he knew there was nothing that could be done to restrain the ‘cat.
‘Major Cain! I’m so glad that I found you. We need to get you back to Space School,’ Holly told him.
‘Found me? You should always know where I am, Holly. I’ve got the implant. And why do we have to go back?’ Cain questioned the AI.
‘I found a subroutine that’s interfering with my ability to track you, even to speak with you. It appears that you were right. You are being targeted,’ Holly said in a conciliatory tone.
‘It gives me no joy to be right, Holly. Let me get my people and then let’s get on our way. By the way, where the hell did you dig up this relic?’
Cain looked at Stalker. “Get everyone on board. This is our ride home.”
‘Oh, Master Cain, you jest just like your great-great-grandfather. I’m so pleased to be working closely with you,’ Holly gushed.
‘Holly, can you remove that subroutine or not? How much danger are those around me in?’ Cain asked, wondering how to keep the recruits out of the middle of his storm. Then again, they were his people. Maybe he needed to surround himself with his platoon at all times. Show those who were opposed to the expanded mission that he wasn’t afraid to fight for freedom.
Which was exactly what they were trying to get him to do. If he fought the people of Vii using the platoon, he’d prove their point for them. Maybe he needed to sequester himself at Space School while the others trained. He’d coordinate from the safety of his own room and maybe a room within the school itself.
‘Holly, have a security bot meet us to escort us in. And if possible, dispatch it to me. I’ll stay as far from the platoon as I can. The bot will be half of my security, and Brutus, of course, will be the other half. We’ll figure it out, but I don’t want to put the Marines at risk while they’re training. We need to get through it and get back to the ship. The only place we’ll be safe is on the Cygnus-12,’ Cain said, planning the way ahead, rapidly thinking through numerous scenarios.
‘I’m sorry to tell you that the ship has been renamed to The Olive Branch, but the crew is intact, if that’s any consolation,’ Holly added.
‘It’s not,’ Cain snarked and shut the neural implant before Holly could suck more joy from his life.
A Different Way to Train
Cain sequestered himself inside the Space School, often sleeping in the classroom. Brutus watched over him while a security bot hovered outside the windows looking out at the school’s main square. The bot would follow him to the chow hall, where he’d eat quickly, usually alone, and return to the classroom where he had full access to Holly’s three-dimensional training simulators.
Stinky and Pickles took over the day-to-day handling of the platoon, which was happening away from the school. They’d trained more on the edge of the rainforest, this time much closer to Livestel. The Wolfoid community provided support that all appreciated. It was a field trip of cross-cultural understanding, although the ‘cats insisted that Livestel smelled awful and wouldn’t go into town.
Cain had intended to keep the platoon out of Space School until the memorial for those killed the last mission of the Cygnus-12. Since they returned early at Holly’s behest, Admiral Jesper assigned Cain to escort those arriving for the ceremony. The major couldn’t think of anything more degrading than being an escort, but someone had to do it, and he needed the practice at politicking. Brutus counselled him it was for the best, then was conspicuously absent whenever Cain was giving the dignitaries a tour. The major took an odd pleasure in his guests’
discomfort at being followed by the security bot.
The first person he had to escort was a scientist who’d spent his entire life on the Traveler. He expressed his gratitude at the removal of the vines, although that wasn’t his field of study. His field was nanotechnology, something the ancients had dabbled in with limited degrees of success. The older man was often nauseous because his body couldn’t reconcile itself with the planet’s gravity. Cain deposited the man in the Space School guest quarters and prepared to join his platoon for the rest of the day, but that wasn’t meant to be.
The second dignitary had been there before and Cain knew him. The Elder from Coldstream greeted Cain with long hug. Every Elder wanted someone from their home to be a hero with the SES. Cain happened to be theirs. The Elder had to share that Cain’s parents were disappointed that he didn’t visit them when he was back in Coldstream, but they understood, with the attack and his recall to Space School. Aletha had let them know, which Cain found disconcerting since he hadn’t told them of his split with Ellie. Cain kept all the other conversations to small talk, before the admiral arrived and the major politely excused himself.
There was nowhere more important to be than with the admiral, he reasoned. Brutus seconded the opinion.
“I like the uniform and the look, Major,” the admiral said with a smile as he extended his hand. Cain took it and smiled back.
“How are we doing, Admiral?” Cain asked, always favoring the direct approach.
Jesper looked around to make sure no one was near. They were in an open area where even Holly couldn’t listen in. “Close your implant,” he instructed. Cain blinked twice as he took the window from minimized to open to closed, then nodded when he was finished.
“Strange things are in the air,” the admiral confided barely above a whisper. “We have kept your crew together, and if you haven’t heard, we had to rename your ship to The Olive Branch. That was the trade-off.” Cain put his hand on the admiral’s shoulder.
“I know, and it’s okay, admiral. With the same crew, it’s the same ship. And there’s a certain irony in naming a ship for peace at the same time it is being armed and filled with Marines.”
The admiral looked away. Cain tried to see what the admiral was looking at. The Space School director approached.
“If you’ll excuse me, Admiral, I need to join my platoon. I will see you at the ceremony.” With that, Cain turned and left in the opposite direction from which the director approached. As he walked away, he heard the admiral tell him to trust no one.
The next day, Cain had the platoon formed and standing tall outside billeting. Acting Sergeant Stalker and the lieutenants joined the major out front, also standing at attention. The earth Marines’ proclivity for close order drill was lost on Cain as the different species walked with unique gaits. Marching in step was not possible, so the major didn’t waste the time.
“Two by two, Sergeant. We are the honor guard for the fallen. We will escort the caskets from the space center to where they will be recognized. All of them will then be transported to their home towns and villages for final burial. Understand, people, there is no higher sign of respect than how we honor those who fell in combat against the enemy.”
The platoon formed two ranks and the lieutenants walked at the front of their combined squads. Stalker walked in the back and Cain walked in front of his platoon. He maintained a steady pace and resisted the temptation to run. Even though they had a long way to go, they had plenty of time to get there. The platoon marched from the Space School, out the gate and to the left toward the space center a few kilometers away.
When the platoon arrived, the caskets were ready. Each was on a flat wagon, pulled by a volunteer Aurochs. Cain put one squad on each side of the procession and increased the distance between the Marines. The lieutenants were with the lead Aurochs and acting Sergeant Stalker was at the end, walking behind the final casket. Ascenti requested permission to fly above the procession, which Cain readily granted. The Hawkoid flew slow and low as the group stepped off. Admiral Jesper joined Cain at the front of the procession, not talking as they led the way.
Cain’s chest tightened. The sacrifice. The long voyage home. People he knew. People he liked. A distraught admiral. Cain stumbled as his legs seemed to get heavy. The admiral offered an arm to help the major steady himself.
“I understand, son,” was all the admiral said while continuing to look straight ahead. Brutus appeared at his side, but didn’t say anything. Cain found his presence comforting.
Commander Daksha was in the open area outside the front gate of Space School where the ceremony was to be held. Cain wished he would have gotten a chance to talk with the commander, but he couldn’t. The Tortoid was surrounded by dignitaries, not the least of whom was Dr. Johns himself. Cain made eye contact with the mission commander, but Daksha gave nothing away.
The ceremony was far more solemn than Cain expected. He wanted it to be more like the one they held on board the Cygnus-12, a celebration of their lives. They didn’t ask the major to speak, but Daksha did and the entirety of his short speech was aimed at the return to space, better equipped to deal with unknown threats to prevent another catastrophe like the one that resulted in the untimely deaths of such a committed crew.
Cain was surprised that no other members of the crew attended. That was another question that he wouldn’t get to ask the commander, because when the ceremony was over, the admiral asked Cain to return to the school grounds and continue training, saying time was of the essence. The admiral did not explain further.
‘Time is of the essence, Brutus,’ Cain told his friend. ‘Well then, we better get back to it.’
‘Hungry,’ Brutus replied before darting through the gates and heading toward the woods.
During the remainder of the week, they set up a firing range and burned up lightning staffs and blasters as they all learned to shoot, trying to improve their aim, day after day. Stinky and Pickles weren’t too proud. They stood on the firing line with the rest and blasted away. Everyone trained with blasters, then everyone trained with lightning spears. Except for the ‘cats, who found someplace else to be for the duration of the live fire training. The humans proved to be the best natural shots, while the Wolfoids worked through how to aim the blasters. Their hands didn’t allow them to sight directly down the weapon. Fickle modified a couple of the blasters by putting the sights on the side. That made all the difference. He was tasked with doing that for every blaster that the Marines would carry.
Jo was a natural and clearly the platoon’s most accurate shooter. Cain declared her combat load would be two blasters, while the rest of the humans would only carry one along with a portable charger.
The Lizard Men could physically fire the blaster, but they were never able to master where the shot went. After giving up, they were issued lightning spears and practiced exclusively with those. They could at least hit the trunk of a very large tree with reasonable consistency. Whereas with the blaster, the arc of fire was plus or minus seventy degrees from the aiming point. That one-hundred and forty degree arc to the front generally put more of the platoon at risk than a potential enemy.
During the second week, the jumpers dropped the platoon off in the Bittner Mountains where they had to deal with negotiating the rocky terrain and doing it in the harsh cold. Many people on Vii had never seen snow, especially anyone who lived in the south. In the north, only if one got close enough to see it on the mountains or if they lived far north of Jefferson City where, in the winter, it snowed regularly.
They’d practice movement in day and night, firing at targets, attacking through ambushes, setting their own ambushes, evacuating wounded, and moving, always moving from one place to another. It was tedious and boring and critical to their survival. Bounding overwatch. Single envelopment. They learned terms and put them into action.
Stinky and Pickles shared training images with Cain as much as possible, but they were fully engaged in learning while also trying to
train the others. They were barely able to keep one half-step ahead. They leaned heavily on Night Stalker and the squad leaders, although they didn’t fire anyone, they rotated the recruits through the position so everyone had a chance to fill a leadership role. Some couldn’t wait for it to be over. Others didn’t want to give it up. Spence seemed like a natural. The smallest one with the biggest heart. He was excessively outgoing and made everyone feel like they were the center of his attention at all times.
Cain wanted to train with his people, but his presence put them all at risk. He spent a great deal of time with Holly, going through interactions between the senior SES, civilian leaders, and the AI to see where the malicious code could have come from. Holly created a subsystem where he hid the searches that he and Cain were making. He also put any material on the Cygnus Marines into a secure area where no one could get access to it, locking it by a two-person code, one, Holly and the other, Cain.
When the platoon returned from the mountains, a long flight in the jumpers, they looked exhausted. Cain met them at billeting, with Brutus and a security bot in tow.
“Did it suck?” Cain asked Stinky.
“Yeah, pretty much,” the Wolfoid replied. Pickles nodded his agreement.
“It sucked a great deal, if I understand the expression correctly,” the Lizard Man added.
“Good!” Cain exclaimed, slapping them on the backs. The recruits were busy cleaning their gear and weapons before doing anything else. Cain nodded his approval. “Every night?”
Cygnus Expanding: Humanity Fights for Freedom (Cygnus Space Opera Book 2) Page 16