by JR Handley
“Sergeant Scipio, Tech-Corporal Basil and I were finishing up a submersible drone, which can patrol the flooded corridors of Beta City and give us eyes and ears outside of our habdisks. We’re not sure how to deploy it yet, but this will help avoid any nasty surprises.”
Lance looked at the drone then looked back to Hayley.
“Aren’t you forgetting–”
“Don’t worry, Sergeant, I already squared away 1st Squad. Our squad is ready for anything, just give the orders. Until then, I’m making use of my time and intellect.”
Lance stared at her, looking as hard and fierce as only a Marine sergeant could. He was curious as to whether she would back down. When Hayley met his stare with a blank expression, he grinned.
“Look at you now, all of sixteen and you already think you’re a big girl. Ready to take on the world without even knowing it’s out there.”
Lance stopped speaking to laugh at the scathing look she gave him.
“On a more serious note, you two will come with me to the leadership briefing today, so stay on comms. I want the digital plans and specs on that submersible drone sent to Xena in advance so I can distribute them.”
He paused to pick up the drone and look at it. Where they likely saw creative robotic genius, Lance merely observed a metal tool. Placing it back on the table, he looked to Basil.
“Tech-Corporal Terloar, what is the status of our equipment?”
“Sergeant, all of the equipment survived the freeze and thaw. Everyone is back into fighting form, and we’ve salvaged all the equipment from our honored dead. We did lose Cadet Wyckoff’s AI. It didn’t handle Wyckoff’s death and had to be wiped. I believe Xena can reformat the AI and prep it for a new handler and personality. I stowed the wiped AI under your rack. The only issue is a severe shortage of ammunition, but if we can get out of this habdisk we can address the deficiency.”
Lance voiced his appreciation for a job well done, then turned to Hayley. Before he could demand a report, she volunteered the information.
“Sergeant, the gear is ready to go and the rooms are inspection ready. As Tech-Corporal Terloar already stated, we’re critically low on ammo and only have enough food in the habdisk to last two weeks. This timeline will only hold if we switch to half-rats until we can acquire more,” Hayley explained.
She took a moment before continuing. Hayley’s eyes cast downward.
“I’ve taken the bodies of Wyckoff, Woodbury, and Pinza and stored them in an unused room until we can properly dispose of them. I coordinated with the other three squads, and they’ve placed their dead in the same room. We had Xena hermetically seal the room to prevent spreading illness, in case we are stuck here longer than we would prefer. Unless there was something I missed while I was at supply trading my diapers in for those big girl panties you’re so unnaturally fond of?”
Laughing, almost manically, Lance pulled himself together. The stress of being involved in so many things was weighing on him.
“I’ll be in my quarters if anyone needs me,” said Lance. “Keep your eyes on our squad and make rounds to check in on everyone in an hour.”
Lance walked out of the room toward his quarters. He could hear the rattle of their tools on its metal carapace. Moving with purpose, and trying to avoid talking to anyone, Lance made it back to his quarters.
In the calm silence of his office, Lance contemplated how far 1st Squad had come. They weren’t spoiled crèchelings anymore. Despite him taking command of them just over an unfrozen year before, the cadets had grown. Lance was shocked to admit it, but they’d become his new family. They could never replace his old unit and home regiment, but they had found their own special place in his heart.
Lance pulled a rag out of his locker and asked Xena for an update. She quickly linked into the intercom in his room and began filling him in as he cleaned his combat armor.
Lance, the good news is that we have established contact with the 428th MER. They’ll have a sergeant from each of their two remaining companies at the briefing. Predictably, their officers didn’t survive the dual plague which killed so many Trog and Jotun loyalists. Unfortunately, we have even more bad news, but you need to be–
Before Xena could change the subject, Lance interrupted to order her to privately contact the senior NCO from the 428th MER. He needed the engineers to come up with a plan to drain the water from the city, while leaving the upper fourth level flooded. This way, the Hardit troops occupying the top three levels would be unaware of what was happening. Lance ended his dictated note with a request that the engineers have a preliminary plan ready before the conference call that was being arranged.
Satisfied that he’d gotten his request to the MER as succinctly and bluntly as possible, Lance told Xena to continue giving him the bad news.
Yes, oh lord and master. I live to wait for you to tell me what to do. Please, oh please, interrupt me again, said Xena.
There was a long pause. Lance knew this was bait and continued cleaning his armor. Despite the quirkiness, he knew Xena just enjoyed a good verbal sparring. He smiled when her voice started droning over the intercom speakers again.
The signal that I shut off, the one requesting authentication from a competent White Knight authority, turned itself back on. This is the same switch that would’ve woken us up if it was pinged with a response. Apparently, there is a master switch in the habdisk comms relay that must be physically shut off. If I turn the signal off electronically, it will reset and turn back on every half hour when the system backs itself up. I can’t find it on any schematic, but I suspect the master switch is on Level 9 with the power generation equipment. To stop that signal blaring our presence to the universe, someone with hands is going to have to go there and physically shut it off.
Lance took Xena’s momentary pause as a signal for him to solve the problem and began working it out as he spoke. He suggested that the submersible drone that Basil had created could investigate the situation and have it resolved in under an hour. If the switch was there, a Marine fire team could go down and handle the situation. Despite the water, Lance knew the ACE Combat Suit, which was designed to be used in the voids of space, could handle diving with ease. Lance was on a roll as he formed the plan aloud. Xena cut him off.
Lance, do I need to use my man voice to get you to listen to me? I wasn’t done, and all your pathetic human male problem solving was for naught. It’s too late, the human forces over on the continent of Baylshore, where Detroit City used to be and might still be, replied to our signal. They didn’t reply with the proper protocol, but they know something is here now. I agree with you, my poor disabled human male, that it wouldn’t hurt to shut off the signal. However, it might be too late. I’ll keep turning it off when it resets until then, but be alert for unwanted visitors. Further, if they know the proper response, it could complicate our efforts to figure out their loyalties.
Lance realized the situation seemed to be getting more complicated by the minute. He finished cleaning buildup off his combat armor with a rag and thought about how much simpler things used to be when he was just a squad leader. Satisfied with his armor, he began cleaning his SA-71. Xena continued updating him.
Just so I’m not the harbinger of doom, there is some good news. There appears to be four Marine officers alive in the NTU habdisk. There is a fifth Jotun officer, Colonel Buca Carex, who will likely not survive the night. I only have passive communication with the NTU, but managed to notify them of the Beta City Council Meeting. They will be there – the joys of a captive audience. I am sending a list of the officers to your Aimee.
* * *
Senior Personnel,
Beta City Integrated Command:
Colonel Marchewka; 6907th TAC RGT
Colonel Buca Carex; 428th MER RGT
Captain Gashi ‘GG’ Gaarjar; 428th MER RGT
Captain Grigonna; Whiskey Co., 6907th TAC RGT
Lieutenant Cresil; Whiskey Co., 6907th TAC RGT
* * *
When Xena was done, Lance reassembled the SA-71 and reattached it to his sling.
There are officers, which means the world has righted itself. Now, I can go back to being a squad leader, Lance thought as he shifted the rifle onto his back. With those happy musings, he strolled out of his room and continued checking on the health and welfare of his Marines.
— Chapter 07 —
Late Afternoon, Post-Revival Day 1
Whiskey Co. Ready Room, Beta City, Serendine
Beta City Integrated Command
Lance paced around the Whiskey Company Ready Room as he waited for the meeting. Not too long ago, he’d been living by the mantra “never stand out.” This was dictated by the Second Law of Soldiering. Now, he was standing in front of several officers and senior sergeants, preparing to lead what would likely be a historically significant meeting. The more he thought about it, the more nervous he became until he was pale enough for Hayley to ask about him.
“Sergeant, you okay? There is no reason to be nervous, the officers won’t actually be here, so they can’t shoot you, yet! Relax, you did the right thing, and they’ll see that. Besides, Captain Grigonna likes you. You’ll come out looking like the conquering hero.”
Lance cast a hard gaze at Hayley, and she broke eye contact. Suddenly, she was very interested in the Digi-Sheet in front of her.
Thorn strode into the room and took his seat next to Basil and Hayley. After nodding to them, Thorn opened his mouth to speak. He was cut off as everyone’s Aimee pinged with the notice that Colonel Carex had succumbed to his injuries.
A solemn mood took over the room. The death of Colonel Carex served as a grim reminder of the war going on above them. While they were iced, and now waited for orders, battles waged and friends were dying. Lance walked over to the empty seat at the table where Colonel Carex’s holographic projection would have been and pushed a button to turn off the display. He then made his way to the podium, centered at the head of the round, conference table.
Just as he was about to ask Xena about the preparations for the conference, she chimed, Since Colonel Carex is no longer with us, all thirty-eight of the expected attendees are ready for us to go live. By your orders, System Administration Chief Scipio, this meeting starts.
The realization that even without his representation of Whiskey Company, his role as the systems administrator would have forced his active participation calmed Lance enough to tell Xena to start the meeting and link in all connected habdisks. His blue eyes scanned the table and double-checked where each of the virtual attendees were being projected.
“Good afternoon, sirs, ma’am’s, and senior sergeants. I regret the circumstances causing this meeting, especially since it cost us the lives of so many brave Marines. Colonel Marchewka, I hope you forgive my impudence in initiating the events leading us here. I believe I made the best decisions I could. If you feel someone must be penalized for my decisions, please make it me and spare the Marines who faithfully followed my orders.”
Lance gripped the metal podium with both hands and prepared to continue. Colonel Marchewka cut him off.
“Enough! You are a sergeant in my regiment who made battlefield decisions. If I had issues with it, human, we would’ve already stormed your habdisks and killed you. You are alive because I believe in you and support your decisions. If you insist on whining like a crècheling, I will have your second-in-command spank you before I force you back into service. We need every Marine in the fight that is coming. Continue with your briefing, Sergeant, that we might formulate a plan.”
To add to the effect of the verbal dressing down, Marchewka verbalized his admonition in his own voice, instead of utilizing the voice box. This made his alien dialect even more frightening as he spoke, and slightly harder to understand.
Lance felt his face flush with heat. His hands clamped the podium almost hard enough to break the top off. Despite his embarrassment, he continued his briefing.
“I’d like to start the meeting in reverse. As you’ve noticed, I took the liberty of sending your Aimees a full timeline of what has transpired while we were iced. Before we get into the status of Beta City, are there any questions about what you received?”
Lance scanned the virtual room for questions, ensuring to read the holographic nametags in front of each of the attendee’s projections. Lance saw that Senior Sergeant Farran Carr had a question. The shift in the color of his holographic nametag from blue to red indicated this. Carr, the senior sergeant for the 13th Battalion, 828th TAC Regiment, presented an aura of calm confidence that Lance currently had to fake.
Lance acknowledged Senior Sergeant Carr and turned the floor over to him so that he could ask his question. This level of control over who spoke was necessary to prevent Marines from talking over each other.
Carr’s gravelly voice was the only indication that he was physically older than most Marines lived to be.
“Sergeant Scipio, is there any indication as to the loyalties and dispositions of this Human Legion Marine force that tried to contact us?”
Having expected this question, Lance quickly answered in such a way as to appear even more professional than he felt.
“Senior Sergeant Carr, that’s an excellent question, but it is one that we can’t answer with any degree of certainty. However, one of our sergeants recognized the name ‘Nhlappo,’ having served with someone of that name. If you want to question the source directly, I imagine Senior Veteran Sergeant Thorn from Yankee Company, 8th Battalion of the 6907th TAC would be happy to oblige.”
Lance stopped and pointed Carr toward Thorn. The two old Marines acknowledged one another, and Lance thought about how many years of service they likely had between them. Refocusing on the initial question, Lance continued.
“Other than tertiary bits of intelligence, we don’t know much. We know they continue to fight the Hardit group that was part of the mutiny, so we have a common enemy. We suspect they are an offshoot of the Free Corps Mutineers. It isn’t unheard of for mutinies to fall apart after an initial victory, as factions struggle for supremacy. They continue to try to contact our base using antiquated acknowledgement protocols. If they get it right, whether through dumb luck or legitimate authority, we follow Colonel Marchewka’s lead. After this briefing, I will turn over systems administration duties to–”
Colonel Marchewka cut him off using his access code. This was a benefit given to all regimental officers. Lance turned to face Marchewka, knowing it was pointless to speak as his voice was now muted to all virtual attendees.
“Sergeant Scipio, does this Cadet Mason need to chastise you? Didn’t I tell you that your continued existence is at my discretion? I can see you’re nodding. Good. You recognize my authority. Then instead of telling us – telling me – what you will do, how about sticking to briefing me and let me decide what follows.”
Lance stuttered out a series of “yes sirs” before Marchewka was satisfied his point had been made. Nearly every Marine present, except for Basil and Hayley, were either smirking or outright laughing at the plight of the young sergeant. Despite the laughter at his expense, Lance pushed forward with the brief.
“Understood, sir. I will open the floor back up to other questions.” Lance used this opportunity to glare at every Marine in the room, making a show of scanning for questions.
He saw that one of the naval officers from the 215th NAFS, the only Naval Atmospheric Fighter Squadron on the continent that Lance was aware of, raised her hand.
“Good afternoon, Lieutenant Commander Mawr Bryn, please ask your question,” Lance said to the Drako pilot.
Like most Marines, Lance had a love-hate relationship with cocky atmospheric fighter pilots. When needed, they were your best friends. But when those pilots weren’t actively providing support to ground combat operations, they were the butt of your jokes. And worse, when they got their own thrills buzzing your training operations, doing God knows how many klicks per second, you’d happily kill your mother for the chance to stab them. Tr
ying to maintain a professional demeanor, Lance bit his tongue and ceded the floor to the Jotun lieutenant commander.
“Thank you for the detailed report you forwarded us, Sergeant Scipio. Since we don’t really know anything about what’s going above ground, let’s talk about our home city. How soon to get the base habitable again?”
Not sure how to answer that question, Lance decided to do what sergeants have done since the Great Creator turned his universe over to sergeants to lead and manage – he passed the buck.
“Ma’am, with all due respect, I can outline our options and give you an exact lay of the land, but it is up to our new base commander to make all decisions as to the future disposition of Beta City. I believe this question might best be answered at the senior officer meeting, which will likely follow the conclusion of this briefing. Like you, I look forward to an answer for that intelligent query, ma’am!”
Satisfied he had answered with as smug a non-answer as military courtesies allowed, Lance called for further questions. Seeing none, he closed the floor to questions so the meeting could continue.
“Now that you know how we got here, I’ve prepared a quick briefing to present our choices so that we might continue. We are critically short on foodstuffs. Habdisk 612 has resorted to half-rations so we can stretch it out for two weeks, but every habdisk will have their own unique issues. Needless to say, time is of the essence. I will start by telling you about our current assets.”
Lance pushed a button on his Aimee to cue Xena to bring up a holo-display infographic showing numbers and unit designations in the center of the Ready Room.
“First, there are all of Beta City’s crècheling barracks and novice barracks still in cryogenic stasis. Then there are currently 13,979 naval personnel awake in Beta City, between the squadrons and the NTU, or Naval Training Unit for my fellow Marines. There are likely many more Spacers on ice. I would recommend against thawing them until there is a compelling reason. There are 3,220 Marines awake, likely none in cryo, and a critical shortage of officers to lead them. Finally, at my urging, we have approximately 10,000 Auxies that organized themselves into fighting units. They acquitted themselves well on the trip to the NTU where they are currently–”