Duty from Ashes

by Sam Schal

  Unable to believe his eyes any more than he had his ears earlier, Joss could only shake his head. Then, scanning the faces of the Marines waiting for him to give them permission to see to the wounded, he knew it was no trick. They were the Devil Dog and the Callusians had been defeated. Then the cheers of the POWs filled the air and he broke out of his reverie.

  “Lieutenant, I know you must have a number of questions. I’ll answer all of them. I promise. But I recommend you let my people tend to your wounded first,” she continued, moving forward, hand extended.

  Even as the Marine spoke, Joss’s eyes fixed on the Marine standing just behind her. Of all the things he might have expected, this was the very last one.

  “Ryan?”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  RYAN DONNELLY ROCKED from toe to heel, fighting the ever increasing urge to rush through the gate come what may. The gate was moving so slowly, too slowly. He wanted – no, he needed – to find out what awaited them inside. Not just for himself but for his parents and the families of the others from the Tarrant who waited to find out if their loved ones had survived the ambush.

  But, no matter how badly he wanted to rush ahead, he couldn’t. Colonel Shaw was right about needing to do all they could to reassure the POWs. A battle-ready Marine racing through the still opening gates would do anything but reassure them. So all he could do was wait, throttle down her anxiety and wait.

  That didn’t mean he had to like it though.

  Finally, after what seemed an eternity, the gate finished its slow trek. Colonel Shaw nodded once and softly reminded them to stay wary but to make no sudden moves. Then she started toward the opening, moving with a careful ease they all tried to imitate.

  Eyes carefully scanning the area as they entered the POW compound, Ryan stayed close to Shaw. Then he saw the small knot of people to their right. Despite their bedraggled, battered appearances, there was no doubting their military bearing. Then they parted, obviously reluctantly, and a man about his height limped forward.

  “Joss,” he whispered.

  Moving toward them, limping heavily, was the one person he had prayed they’d find. Joss might be hurt, he might look like he’d been through hell the last few months, but he was alive. Just then, nothing else mattered.

  “Hold position, Corporal,” Shaw said softly when he took a step forward.

  He nodded, internally raging against the order. But she was right. They needed to be sure no surprises awaited them. At least there were others with them who could do so because he couldn’t take his eyes off his brother. Relief vied with worry as he watched Joss continue his slow trek in their direction.

  The right side of Joss’ face was swollen and bruised. That eye was swollen shut. Blood streaked his face and his shipboard uniform was tattered and worn.

  But it was the almost animalistic wariness reflected in the one dark eye not swollen shut that worried Ryan. What had those bastards done to his brother?

  Time stood still for Ryan as he stared at his older brother in disbelief. Metal bands with several links of chain hanging from them were locked about Joss’s wrists. He stood before them, his expression wary. None of the instant humor and warmth Ryan remembered so well was there.

  Dear God, what had those bastards done to him?

  Slowly, one heartbeat at a time, Ryan forced himself not to turn and go in search of any of the guards who might have been responsible for the injuries his brother bore. The sole part of his brain that still functioned reminded him that she couldn’t kill Kasun, the security chief or any of their prisoners out of hand. But, dear God, he wanted to. He wanted it so badly she could taste it. No one treated his brother that way without paying a high price for it. But he could do nothing about – yet.

  Breathing deeply, mouth clamped tight to keep from cursing aloud, he looked to Shaw for guidance. He knew the Colonel would know how to deal with the situation. Besides, he had a feeling Shaw wouldn’t let the injuries Joss and the others had suffered go unpunished.

  Until then, all he could do was keep his emotions under control. But it was so very hard. He hadn’t felt such depths of anger since the attack on Fuercon. That day, he had been forced to admit Fuercon wasn’t as safe from he had always believed. The enemy had brought the fight home, at least for a short time. That had shattered the peace of mind of the entire planet and it had proven just how unprepared they had been for a direct attack.

  But this was different. It was personal and he would make sure those responsible for the attack on the Tarrant paid

  “Colonel?” Anger roughened his voice.

  “Easy, Ryan,” she soothed. “Let’s keep it chilled.”

  He nodded. She was right, not that it made waiting any easier.

  “Lieutenant Donnelly, Taskforce 119 and FirstBatt are now on station,” the colonel said as she stepped forward and snapped to attention. “We may be late, LT, but we are here and I promise you, those bastards responsible for destroying the Tarrant and invading the system will pay.”

  From where he stood, Ryan watched as his brother considered what Shaw said. For a moment, Joss didn’t seem to react. Then he looked at Ryan and the younger O’Donnell stood rooted in place. Would his brother accept that they were there to help or had the Callusians managed to break him?

  “Ryan?”

  Disbelief filled Joss’ voice. Then he stepped forward, one hand reaching out for his brother. Ryan didn’t wait for Shaw. He stepped around her, closing the distance between him and his brother.

  “Mom wanted to know why you missed Sunday dinner,” he choked. His eyes burned and he fought the urge to grab his brother up in a hug.

  “You can tell her I had something unexpected come up.” Joss’ smile might not have reached his eyes but at least he’d tried. That had to count for something.

  Didn’t it?

  * * *

  It was a dream. It had to be. There could be no other explanation. When the Tarrant was attacked, he’d known they would all die. But Julia Sykes had proven one last time why she was such a respected ship’s commander. As she ordered most of the crew to abandon ship, she had all major systems slaved to her console on the bridge. Once that had been done, she’d ordered the bridge crew to get to the escape pods. They all knew it was a fool’s errand and none of them had wanted to abandon their CO. But Sykes simply looked at them, told them it had been a pleasure to serve with each of them and then told them to get the hell off her ship. She needed them to get word back to Fuercon about what happened. It was their duty just as it was hers to buy them as much time as she could.

  Now, unbelievably, it seemed like at least the few who still survived would be able to not only get her message home but make sure FleetCom knew of her sacrifice.

  Please, God, let this be real.

  Painfully, hesitantly because it could all be a fragile dream, he stepped forward. Stopping several feet away from the woman who had identified herself as Colonel Shaw, he did his best to brace to attention. Head held high, body as erect as possible after the abuse it had suffered, he drew the tattered shreds of his dignity and pride close around him. No matter why they were there, no matter what the ultimate cost, he would do nothing to bring shame on the memory of Lt. Commander Sykes. He owed her that much and so much more.

  “Lt. Joshua Donnelly, Colonel.”

  “At ease, LT.” She smiled and reached out to shake his hand. “I know this is a lot to take in right now but we’re here to take you and your people home.”

  ”Thank you, Ma’am. There are survivors from the Tarrant as well as members of the embassy staff here along with prisoners the Callusians took when they invaded.”

  “I understand, LT, and we’ll take care of it.” She turned and motioned to the others of her party to move forward. “I’d appreciate it if you would tell your people to stand down so we can check them and do what we can to make them comfortable until we can get everyone re-settled.”

  He nodded and motioned to O’Donnell. She nodded in understanding
and then sent others to relay his orders. As they did, he turned his attention back to the Marines.

  “Now, LT, I’d appreciate it if you’d take a few minutes to reassure your brother that you’re all right. Once you have, the medics will take a look at you. Then you and I need to have a talk.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.” Now he turned to his brother. “What the hell are you doing here, Ryan?”

  “I think I’m saving your ass, big brother.” Ryan grinned and, for the first time since waking in the infirmary, Joss felt himself smiling in return.

  “Donnelly, report back to me in ten,” the woman said before moving off.

  Joss suddenly found himself engulfed in a bear hug. His brother held him close. Then, a few moments later, he released him and stepped back. His eyes shone with unshed tears and Joss knew his looked the same. It was all almost too much to take in.

  “Damn, big brother, I’ve seen you looking better.”

  “I don’t know, kid. I think I look pretty good considering the alternative.”

  Just then, he would take battered and bruised over blown to bits any day of the week.

  “So do I, big brother. So do I.”

  They walked slowly in the direction of the other POWs. As they did, Joss watched as medics and Marines moved carefully among the wounded. Even though he couldn’t hear what was being said, he had a pretty good idea just from the body language of the Marines and the expressions on the faces of the POWs. Reassurances and promises that things were going to be better.

  God, he prayed it was all true.

  “Joss, look at me,” Ryan said softly.

  He did as his brother said.

  “Joss, you’re going home. I promise. But I’ll warn you right now, Mom’s going to make you wish you were back here the way she’ll hover over you.” Joss grinned. He couldn’t help it. Their mother was a hoverer. She wouldn’t give him a chance to breathe in her attempt to make sure he was all right.

  And that sounded very, very good just then.

  “I need to talk to the others, Ryan. They need to know that this isn’t some trick.”

  “I understand. Let’s go. Then you’re going to let the medics take a look at you.”

  He nodded. Maybe by then his brain would have caught up with everything that had happened.

  * * *

  The moment Donnelly brothers moved off, Ashlyn turned, her expression cold and hard. In the time she had been dirt-side, he had seen enough to know her worst fears were true. The Callusians had done their best to break their prisoners. It showed in their eyes and in the way they hunched their shoulders. Haunted eyes peered out at her from sunken features. Everywhere she looked, a POW showed all the signs of physical torture. Worse, their eyes spoke volumes about the mental and emotional tortures they had endured. Clearly, the taskforce had come none too soon.

  “What can you tell me, Luce?” she asked as Ortega joined her.

  “That I want to kill those mother-fuckers,” her XO growled.

  Worried, Ashlyn turned to study her. Ortega’s jaw was clinched so tightly it was a miracle she hadn’t ground her teeth to dust. Her right eye twitched madly. Far worse was the hatred smoldering in her eyes. Ashlyn breathed deeply and then nodded for her to continue.

  “Ash, these poor bastards were nothing more than things to be used, abused and killed at the whim of Kasun and the guards.” She stopped and visibly struggled to get control of her emotions. “Ash, from what we’re hearing, they used some of the POWs, male and female, as sex slaves. Others were forced to take part in medical research. That doesn’t even touch on the pure torture all had to endure.”

  “Make sure your people document it all for me, Luce. We’ll begin the debriefings as the POWs are processed by the medics.” Ashlyn frowned and closed her eyes to shut out the sights before her. Unfortunately, it didn’t help. Nothing short of vengeance for those poor souls would and she knew it.

  “Put a detail to work processing the POWs. Separate our people from the natives. Until we can transport our folks off-planet, they’ll have to remain here. But move them onto the attack shuttles. We’ll house the other POWs in the administration buildings until we can return them to their homes. Right now, however, our first order of business has to be getting them cleaned, fed and treated.”

  “Understood, Ash.”

  “I want to meet with you, Talbot and Adamson in three hours. I’d like preliminary numbers on the POWs as well as our prisoners at that time. Then I need to meet with company commanders. Colonel Johnson will be sending down reinforcements shortly.”

  “Yes, Ma’am. I’ll get right on it.” For a moment Ortega studied the scene as the Devil Dogs continued to move among the POWs, doing their best to reassure them. “Ma’am, if I may, I recommend Corporal Donnelly stay close to his brother, at least for the moment.”

  “Agreed. I’ll leave it to you to make sure both he and Captain Nichols know.” A sigh, heavy and heartfelt, escaped Ashlyn’s lips. “We’ve a great deal to do and no time to waste. Sooner or later the Callusians will send a ship – or more – in-system to find out what’s happened. I’d like to have local defenses shored up and be well away from here by then.”

  “You know the Devil Dogs will get it done, Ash,” Ortega said.

  “Most definitely. It’s what we do,” Ash replied and then watched as Ortega hurried off. Then she keyed on her comm. It was time to report in.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  GODS BE DAMNED, how did this happen?

  Anton Kasun, once Occupational Governor of the Cassius System, sat on the narrow cot and dropped his head into his hands. As he did, the terrible irony of it all hit him like a rock. He now occupied the same cell that son-of-a-bitch Donnelly had. And, like Donnelly on most occasions, he now wore nothing but his skivvies as he shivered in the cold and damp.

  Could this be a prelude to something more, another reminder of how he had failed? He couldn’t be sure, not now. Not after the impossible had already happened.

  How the hell had those Fuerconese bastards managed to retake the system without High Command at least having some warning about what they were about to do?

  “On your feet, scum,” a rough, brutally cold voice ordered from the cell door.

  Heart jumping, a moan forcing its way out of tightly clamped lips, Kasun forced himself not to start nervously. But the sound of a heavy boot on the cell floor broke through the tattered vestiges of self-control. Trying not to tremble, Kasun shoved to his feet, cursing this sudden reversal of roles.

  Without a word, the Marine grabbed Kasun and threw him against the far wall. Before the former governor could catch his breath, his arms were painfully twisted behind him and secured. Then he was propelled out of the cell, surrounded by four battle armored Marines who looked as if they would like nothing more than to erase him from existence in the most painful manner possible.

  Shuffling along between the Marines, Kasun shook his head in disbelief. Each cell in the block was occupied by his people, one per cell. Like him, they had been stripped down to their underwear. Some, like Peltier, showed signs of having been on the losing end of a very brutal beating. Worse, they all had the air of hopelessness he was beginning to know all too well.

  A few minutes later, he was convinced that his worst nightmares had suddenly come to life. The Marines paused before a simple, ordinary looking door on the lowest level of the cell block. It was a door Kasun knew all too well. Without a word, one of the Marines activated the controls and the door slid open, revealing the small room every prisoner wanted to avoid.

  “No!”

  Frantically, uselessly, he tried to dig his bare heels into the cold stone of the floor. Scrabbling for any traction to keep from being forced inside, he fought against the hands holding him. He knew what could happen in that room, what had happened there. He wouldn’t let them put him in. He wouldn’t.

  But there was little he could do about it. With a look of disgust, the first Marine, aided by the strength given him by his pow
ered battle armor, simply grabbed the struggling man by the scruff of the neck and tossed him inside. At his command, the others quickly carried Kasun to the metal chair bolted to the floor at the end of the room’s small table. Ankles, wrists, waist and neck were quickly encircled by powered metal bands, securing him to the chair.

  Helpless, so scared he was hyperventilating, Kasun waited. Why couldn’t this be a nightmare he would soon awaken from?

  * * *

  Joss lay still, assessing how he felt. He ached, not that that was anything new. There had hardly been a day since awakening in the infirmary when he hadn’t hurt somewhere. But there was something different this time. The aches didn’t seem as bad and there wasn’t a damp chill in the air.

  For one moment, he fought for control as he realized he was not in his cell. Then, before the fear could take over, memory of the events of the previous day washed over him. If it hadn’t all been some sort of dream, he was free. And not just him. All the POWs, those from the Tarrant as well as those taken when Cassius Prime fell. They were safe and free and the Callusians who had imprisoned them were now the ones sitting in the cells, wondering what was going to happen next.

  Carefully, Joss sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bunk. As he looked around, he smiled in relief. It hadn’t been a dream. He really was onboard one of the attack shuttles from Taskforce 119. More importantly, the other bunks in the cabin were occupied by the other survivors from the Tarrant, at least those who weren’t in need of constant medical supervision.

  Before he could get to his feet, Joss smiled slightly to see Ashlyn Shaw moving all but silently in his direction. She had shed her battle armor but still carried her battle pack and weapons. Then, seeing him sitting up, the Colonel smiled and hurried forward.

  “Shh.”

  She held a finger to her lips and motioned to where O’Donnell and Levitson slept in the nearest bunks. Nodding, Joss carefully stood, wincing slightly as his injured knee screamed in pain. That had been just one of a number of injuries the medics had been unable to do much for with the relatively primitive facilities of the compound. But they would soon be able to transfer to the Cassin Young and other ships of taskforce. Then all of the former POWs would be able to get the treatment they needed.