by Chris Hechtl
A couple of volunteer civilian techs were flown in when the weather cleared to go over the ship and fly it out. The shuttle was gone over by their intel people when they had the free time. They downloaded the shuttle's memory and then sifted through it for clues about how many people it had carried. They didn't come up with much.
It sat on the tarmac for several weeks, getting slowly buried in snow. Since the military didn't need it, they had the Skyhawk as well as a dozen converted captured shuttles; the shuttle was eventually turned over to the colonial government. “Great, what do we do with it?” Hanna demanded. “We don't have the tools, the equipment, or the parts for it!” She threw her hands up in despair. “Or the need come to think of it!”
Lewis glanced her way then shrugged. “Turn it into a museum, transport, or whatever. It could fly people around your world. Sell it at auction to someone who wants to use it or sell it to a passing ship,” he told her absently. She frowned thoughtfully. He caught her look and then shrugged once more. “Hey it's just an idea. You don't have to do any of that. You could just let it sit as an oversized paper weight. It's not going anywhere, not unless someone steals it.”
She pursed her lips but didn't reply.
>*…*<>*…*<
Hanna went through a series of one-on-one therapy sessions before Velma talked her into trying a group therapy session.
She was irritable from time to time, moody. Sometimes she just wanted to scream; she practically shook with the need to hit something, to lash out. Lewis did his best to stay out of her way when she was like that.
The nightmares kicked up with a vengeance a few times, making her want to stop. She stubbornly gritted her teeth and went through it though when she realized Lewis was supporting her endeavors quietly. If he could put up with her temper tantrums and be there for her, the least she could do is try to get them sorted out. She hated feeling all fracked up and on edge half the time.
During her first group therapy session, she felt exposed. However, everyone greeted her warmly and made her feel welcome. “It's perfectly okay to sit here for the first few sessions and quietly listen. We're not going to force you to talk,” Velma told her directly. Hanna nodded. She reached out to a girl near her, touching her hand briefly. The girl shook a bit, but then settled down. The teen was shy; she gave her a hug of support, which for some reason made the teen want to bolt from the room. Velma caught her and sat her down firmly, then made Hannah change seats.
It wasn't until a little while later that she realized why the girl was very uncomfortable about being touched. Her impulsive act had forced the girl into her shell. Velma expertly drew her out however. It was Hanna's turn to want to bolt from the room in embarrassment, but the girl stopped her. “I'm sorry,” she stuttered out woodenly. “I didn't know.”
“That is part of the problem. People are either on eggshells around you, or they don't know. We all have lives. We have to live. We have to go on with life, and it's not our fault. Accept that. Refuse to give in to the fear and depression. If you do then they have won.”
“Live,” the girl whispered. She licked her lips and bobbed a nod. Her face was shrouded in her long black hair.
“Live a life. Don't close up. Defiant but free,” another woman murmured. Others around the circle nodded.
“The price of freedom is vigilance to make certain this never happens again. Never again,” Velma said firmly. That's why we need people in uniform to make certain it doesn't happen, and why we need to do our best to support them. They aren't the enemy.”
Hanna nodded. She sat back, quietly listening to the stories and support from the others.
>*…*<>*…*<
Colonel Zin scowled blackly at the future. It wasn't good, not as bright as he'd once assumed. These … marines were good. Very good, which didn't bode well for him or his people. He was down to 248 effectives, he'd discontinued Jade's policy of killing the wounded, well, killing the lightly wounded. They lacked the facilities and couldn't transport anyone critically injured, so he still judged it as a mercy kill. But he'd made it clear not to waste a bullet, use a garrote, knife, or smother the unfortunate soldier instead.
He stared out to the night's sky. He had a hard count on the enemy's numbers. They'd started with an astonishing thirty humans and thirty robots with an assortment of drones. Their training and their powered armor had been too much for his people. That made his lips twist in bitter rage. To be brought down by so few was humiliating to him. Now that the ships had left, the marines were down to twenty humans and fifty robots, but they had thousands of the natives to draw on for support. His own quislings were dwindling fast. Any who wished to leave were quietly escorted to a deep cave and killed with a knife or garrote. He couldn't afford to let them leave and give away his location.
“Sir, they've captured the last shuttle,” Jade said from behind him. He heard her shuffle a bit, clearly uncomfortable that he didn't turn from where he was standing at attention. “With the ships gone, can we mount a counter attack? Draw them into the caves and destroy their armor? We may yet win this.”
“You speak of attritional losses,” Yin said, looking at her slightly over his shoulder. She nodded. “No,” he said simply. Her face froze. “It won't work. Their commander is too good, too clever. He will see the trap. He hasn't sent his forces into the tunnels yet. I doubt he will. He can wait us out, wait until we must come out to gather supplies.”
“Starve us out? A siege, sir? This cave system is a warren of entrances and exits. They must know that will never work.”
“It will and it won't,” the colonel replied mildly, turning back to the view outside. “I see your point, however. We must bleed him. A death of a thousand cuts. Small cuts but stinging ones,” he murmured. “Have you identified their leadership?”
“A Second Lieutenant Lewis,” Jade replied, looking at her notes. “He is the last trained marine officer on the planet. Ensign Xe left with the ships.” She frowned. “Sir, without the ships they don't have any kinetic energy weapons to strike us with nor shuttles to drop on our heads. Should we consider mounting a test?”
“You believe that the ship’s leaving was a ruse? To draw us out?” Yin asked mildly. He had found that Jade was quite clever for a female, able to think quickly on her feet and adapt to the situation unlike many of his other men. A few he had been forced to put down when they had failed him utterly. He stroked his scraggly beard with his fingertips. He was growing a goatee as well as some hair as a precaution. He might be able to slip into population with the right disguise and environment. Not for long but for long enough to possibly get off the world.
“Sir, I don't know if the ships have left or not. There is no way to get that information short of capturing one of them. We have tried that repeatedly and failed.”
“I know,” Yin said coldly. A stiff wind picked up, emphasizing his tone. “Get intel on their leader. If an ambush can be setup, then we will look into it,” he said. She nodded and withdrew with a click of her heels.
>*…*<>*…*<
When he was injured in an ambush, Hanna was frightened and furious. She rushed to his side, and to his surprise she was angry with him. “You're an officer! You're not supposed to lead from the front, damn it!” She scolded hotly at him. The corpsman looked to object, but he waved the concern aside feebly. The medic frowned, then shook his head silently and tried to pretend he wasn't listening.
“I wasn't. I was hanging back. They were lying in wait for me specifically,” Craig replied, shaking his head. “Honest, Miss Clarke, I know I've got a bull's-eye on my back, so I do my best to keep moving.”
“They knew?”
“Yes. We didn't exactly hide it that I was the senior officer here. Hell,” he grimaced, “only officer right now I suppose, at least until another relief convoy comes through. Which most likely won't be soon since we're in the back of beyond,” he said, shaking his head.
“What about Pyrax?” she asked.
“They have their o
wn problems,” he said bluntly. “They aren't going to send a ship through until they know they can do it without losses. And we're not exactly a priority.”
“Then … then why did you stay?” she asked softly.
“I ….” He looked away. “I had my reasons,” he said feeling stupid.
She plucked at the bed sheet. He looked at her fingers, then away.
“You … like me. I like you,” she said in a rush. He turned and stared at her. She looked away, feeling … not really knowing what she was feeling. Suddenly she was staring into the abyss again. It was scary. She didn't know what he'd say.
“I, yeah, I do,” he said softly.
“Then we should get married,” she said firmly.
“What?” he sputtered out in a surprised laugh. “What did you say?” he asked, still chuckling. “Oh, ow! Don't make me laugh; my ribs haven't healed!”
“I wasn't kidding,” Hanna said, eyes flashing. He stared at her dumbly. “I want … need someone to take care of me, someone I can take care of,” she said. He blinked. “You treat me right. Like a partner, not a farm wife,” she said. He nodded. He'd seen how some of the native farmers treated their wives. Some were treated as walking baby factories or as servants. Chattel, some were bought and sold between farm families. It was a bitter existence he thought, and for some, all they knew.
Women were limited to household functions on a farm. It was a fact of life but one he didn't like. Hopefully, a bit of industrial change and a kick to the planetary economy would change things in that regard.
He realized he'd been woolgathering a bit too long. He cleared his throat when she stared at him expectantly. Finally he admitted he liked her too. “But, I thought, I mean, it's not right to take advantage of you …,” he protested weakly.
“Who said anything like that! If anything, I'm going to take advantage of you!” she said. He blinked in consternation. She blushed a little, but her eyes twinkled with challenge and mirth. The shadows of her past were still there, lurking, but distant, almost gone. They added depth to her, a subtle strength, proving she was a strong survivor. “What, you think after what I went through I'd turn into some old maid?” she demanded.
He chuckled. She slapped him on the arm until he yelled, “Ow!” She dimpled and stroked his arm. “I can't think of anyone better than you. You're a great guy, Lieutenant Lewis. I think I'll keep you,” she said, voice softening.
She surprised him by kissing him. When the kiss broke, he gasped. “Holy Hanna!” he said as she climbed on him.
She glowered at him, but he knew she was faking it. Her eyes twinkled just a little bit. “Admit it. You've been saving that one up for months.”
“Guilty,” he said, and then sputtered as she poked him again. “Honestly, Hanna, you don't owe me anything ….”
She put a hand over his mouth. When she uncovered it, he opened it to protest further, and she covered it with her own lips. When the second kiss broke, she smiled at him. “You were saying? And you'd better not protest again. I know the nurse on shift. I can always convince her to give you an enema.”
His eyes widened. She'd delivered that threat in a matter-of-fact tone that he realized wasn't completely in jest. “I'll be good,” he said.
“Wise man,” she observed with a saucy smile that lightened his heart. “Surrender while you can,” she murmured. “It's the only way out. You'll learn. You're hardheaded, but by the time I'm done training you, you'll at least learn to duck and cover,” she said, tracing a finger over his lips and cheek.
“Well, I didn't say that,” he protested, half laughing. “Marines never surrender, lady. And for the record, we don't duck, we take cover,” he teased. She kissed him again. “Um.” She wrapped his head in her arms and held him. “Okay, so … maybe …,” she laughed in his ear, a purring chuckle as she hugged him. “Oh, be a marine and shut up,” she said.
“But, I mean, we've both been through hell …,” he protested again. She sat up and shook her hair out. He had to admit, she was incredibly lovely, like an angel. It had to be the soft light … or something else. He wasn't sure he could trust himself. Doubt lingered in him over the future.
“I don't know what the future brings. I may be stationed elsewhere ….”
“Live for today,” she whispered to him, “with me. We'll get over it. Together. I'm not losing you now that I've found you. You're a good man. Stay that way.” She stroked his cheek, looking into his eyes. There was something troubling in that gaze. He reached up with his good hand. She caught it and cradled it to her cheek. “I'll make sure you do.”
“I know you will. I'm sorry I've been an ass.”
“No you're not,” she accused chuckling again. She let the hand go and leaned over again, this time forehead to forehead. She stared into his eyes until they both fogged up. Tears fell. “Some happily ever after,” he said, as her fingertips gently stroked the scar on his cheek. Their noses rubbed.
She poked him, giving him a mock stern glower. “Hey, it's a start. Don't knock it. After our mutual pasts, I'll take what I can get. I'm not letting any damn pirate ruin my future. I'll fight, and I know you will, my knight in not quite shiny armor.”
“Yes, ma'am,” he said, wrapping his good arm around her. She squeaked and then hugged herself to his shoulders. For once he thought, he finally did have a better future.
The End
Author's Afterward
Finally! It's finished! I've gone through some versions of this book; I actually didn't want to have so many Federation stories in it. Oh well. But hey, it's done now.
Okay, setting the record straight. No, I'm not anti-gay or any crap like that, same for transvestites. I have family who are gay; I love and respect them. Lollipop wasn't written to bash them; it just came out. No offense meant. I think it was due to a deep-rooted idea that things would go either way. What I meant was that since people have that chip on their shoulder thinking they are better, after men finally got it under control, (admittedly with a swift kick or two from the ladies) some ladies might go in the opposite direction. (It's a theory.) So, again, no offense. Chalk it up to a story about people trying to micromanage too much and leave it at that, deal?
I wrote the Santa Brigade last. I think it came out okay. I had fun thinking up the tech for it. I almost moved it like a lot of the other unfinished stories to Multiverse 3, but there were so many dark stories in this I thought it would go a ways to balance them out. (Multiverse 3 BTW now has six stories in it. LOL) Some stories ran longer than others. Three of the stories I had intended as full-on novels. Maybe someday I'll get around to writing them as such.
Anyway, I am off to do the cover art then some minor art projects, catch up on the blog. (Yipe?) Ahem … stomp out any fires GP started, then I'll be ready to dive into Battle Lines and Jethro 4. You can read more on the blog.
Check the Appendix below for the link.
Appendix
http://www.1stmlg.marines.mil/Units/7ESB/History.aspx
http://usmilitary.about.com/od/enlistedjo2/a/2336.htm
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Explosive_Ordnance_Disposal_Badge
http://groupthink.jezebel.com/a-guide-to-swearing-in-yiddish-483890863
http://www.dailywritingtips.com/the-yiddish-handbook-40-words-you-should-know/
http://www.i-programmer.info/news/105-artificial-intelligence/7985-a-worms-mind-in-a-lego-body.html
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oligochaeta
http://www.artificialbrains.com/openworm
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aircrew
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Santa_Claus
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Companions_of_Saint_Nicholas
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eid_al-Fitr
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Galago
https://www.google.com/maps/place/Giles+County,+VA/@37.3145769,-80.7239249,11z/data=!3m1!4b1!4m2!3m1!1s0x884dddc45bb5b075:0x2db2e5402d7a57f2
http://www.nrvpdc.org/_images/nrvtopographyfnljg.jpg
htt
p://frostbo.deviantart.com/art/Ice-Brush-for-Photoshop-268340786
Sneak Peek:
The following is a raw excerpt from Battle Lines, book 1 in the Federation Reborn series.
“Sir, two pair of fighters have broken off from the furball. CIC identifies them as Tangos 5, 6, 7, and 8. They have cut down on our negative Y axis and are now climbing to attack our keel from below.”
“Where we are most vulnerable,” the Naga captain murmured, noting the missile pods obstructing the lower sail as well as the massive fusion engines in the stern.
“Yes, sir. We have the fewest point defense weapon coverage there. Should we direct a defensive drone?”
The captain glanced at the plot, and then shook his head. He could see the fighters coming in; the drones would take too long. Besides, there was a simpler method of dealing with such ship attacks. “Helm, one hundred eighty degree roll. Execute,” he stated.
“Aye sir, rolling her one eighty,” the helmsman stated flatly. He turned the yoke until his attitude gyroscopic indicator's horizon indicated one hundred eighty degrees. He righted the yoke and checked once more. “One eighty complete, sir.”
The Taco had anticipated the order and had already silently ordered the sensor feed from the keel sensors to be shunted to the weapon mounts. The roll momentarily disoriented them, but they were already in the ballpark. “Dorsal point defense engage,” the TACO stated, nodding to the JTO and then the ship's AI avatar. Both were already at work targeting the incoming fighters.
Two of the fighters saw the roll and broke off, arching wildly away. A third started to arch away but then came back to its wingman who bored into the point defense phaser fire anyway. Invisible phasers spat energy fire into the black void, hammering at where the JTO and gun crews anticipated where the fighters would be. Both fighters jinked about, trying to prevent a weapons lock. Whenever the phasers hit something, it sparkled as the energy reacted violently with the mass.