One Good Soldier

by Travis S. Taylor

  Besides, what Sharon lacked in the beauty department she more than made up for in the brawn and brain department. She could have been a champion bodybuilder at the Academy, but she was more ambitious and way smarter. And on top of that she could run a four-point-one second forty-yard dash and do it over and over for four quarters while being hit hard by big, mean Army linebackers. She was definitely Navy Fleet Officer material. Wallace had played lineman a couple of the years with Sharon running behind him. The two admirals had been teammates for a very long time. That's what made this situation so damned funny.

  "So, do you have a problem with a ship's crew keeping up with its routine maintenance schedule, Sharon?" Wallace had to grit his teeth to keep from laughing while he handed his friend two fingers of scotch he poured from the bottle in his desk.

  "Hell, no, Wally. But if you asked me, and I know you didn't, it was kind of like cheating or gaming the system." Sharon smiled, her whiter-than-white teeth contrasting against her ebony skin. She took the drink and took a tall pull from it.

  "Now, you aren't gonna start claiming the refs made a bad call and that's why the Blair lost the game, are you?"

  "You know me, Wally. I'd never use a bad call as an excuse. We should have had a better battle plan, or my marines should've improvised better when they got trapped. I must say that your crew was quite creative with their improvisational skills."

  "Yeah, I don't know whether to reprimand or promote them. But it did sure as hell work." Wallace refilled his glass then stretched across his desk to do the same for Sharon. "I do have some concerns, though."

  "Such as?"

  "Well, sure we won the war game, but to win it we treated it like a game. On both sides we were just gaming. What would your marines have done if it were a real firefight?" Wallace leaned back and exhaled in an attempt to relax.

  "They would have done what marines do, what soldiers and sailors always do, Wally. Improvise, fight, die, succeed. And not necessarily in that order," Sharon replied.

  "Sure, but think of it a bit more fleet-wide. We haven't been in a real shooting engagement for nearly six years now. How ready are we going to be when the president finally decides to take it to the Seppies in their own star system? You know that is coming soon. You can't just secede from the Union. Wasn't it Zachary Taylor that said something like he would personally lead the Army against persons taken in rebellion against the Union, and that he would hang them with less reluctance than he would spies?"

  Uncle Timmy? He double-checked with his AIC.

  Aye, sir. It was Zachary Taylor, the twelfth president and a military man to boot, Uncle Timmy quickly responded. Do you need more, sir?

  That'll do, Tim.

  "You were the military-history major, not me," Sharon replied.

  "Something just doesn't set right with the way things are right now," Wallace continued. "We haven't seen hide nor hair of the Seppies since the Battle of the Oort. President Moore has been doing his best to fight the idiots in Congress to build up the fleet, but that has been slow and marginal. You know that Ahmi hasn't had the same problem dealing with her constituents."

  "If she did, she'd have them killed. Or do it herself. She's a bloodthirsty bitch, that one," Sharon agreed.

  "We better get ready. I think America is in for the culmination of the last hundred years of strife between the Martian working class, the colonists, and the manifest-destiny explorers."

  "Yeah, I believe it is coming sooner than we realize, but who knows? God help us is all I can say. But the Seppies haven't been in a shooting war for the same amount of time, either." Sharon finished her drink and sat it back down at the edge of Wallace's desk.

  "Good point. Want another?"

  "No, Admiral, I'm on duty. I've got to get back to the Blair and get ready for our jaunt in a few hours."

  "Yeah, me, too. Did you want to meet the First Daughter while you're here?"

  "No, thanks, I just don't have time. And stop being such a Wally-worry-wart, Admiral, it'll give you heartburn, headaches, and hemorrhoids. We've got good troops, you and me. They'll do what has to be done to get the job done." Sharon stood up and saluted the two-star admiral. "As always, a pleasure, Admiral Jefferson."

  "Right back at you, Admiral Walker." Wallace returned the salute. He was slightly startled by a crackling and sizzling sound and a bright flash of white light, and then Sharon vanished from right in front of him. "Goddamn, I'm never gonna get used to that."

  Chapter 8

  July 1, 2394 AD

  Mars Orbit, Sol System

  Friday, 11:05 AM, Earth Eastern Standard Time

  "Lieutenant Commander Buckley and Captain Harrison are here, Admiral." The XO stood at ease in the hatch of the admiral's office.

  "Come in, Larry, come in."

  Joe wasn't sure what all this was about other than the fact that he had been ordered to report to the CHENG and the XO as soon as he got the "goddamned elevator back on line." That had been the XO's exact words.

  "At ease, gentlemen." RADM Jefferson stood with a deadpan expression and his arms behind his back. Joe tried to relax just enough as not to look too at ease. Joe knew that the admiral liked him. Well, at least he thought he did. He had given the admiral every reason to like him. Hell, Joe's dad had sacrificed himself to save the ship for Captain Jefferson years ago. And then Joe had done nearly the same damned thing on his first day on the job. Hopefully, if there was some ass chewing about the elevator trick, then his past performance would soften it. And there was always the nagging fact that his antics helped them defeat the Blair in the war game. Being on the winning side was always better than being on the losing one, especially when it came to ass chewings.

  "Sir." He and Benny responded almost in harmony with each other. Benny's voice was a little more baritone than Joe's, and couldn't neither one of them carry a damned tune in a bucket.

  "Benny, I have to tell you, your presence in the Engineering Room most certainly was missed today. Did you hear about all the crazy things that went on down there in the Engineering Room of my ship?"

  "Aye, Admiral, I did," Benny replied.

  "Lieutenant Commander Joeseph Buckley Jr., what are we supposed to do with you?" The admiral turned from Benny to Joe. "That trick with the elevator you pulled today, son, well, it was underhanded, and dirty pool. Let me tell you, Admiral Walker ain't none too happy about it, either. And the audacity of putting up the notice sign . . ."

  "Sir." Joe looked straight ahead and tried not to let his voice crack. "Just following procedure for the elevator maintenance, Admiral."

  "Benny, what do you think about it?" the CO asked.

  "Admiral, if you ask me, I'd say it was clever, sneaky, and I never would've done it in a million years. The sign was a nice touch."

  Oh, great—Benny is selling me out, Joe thought. The sign had actually been Andy's doing, but Joe wasn't going to cause his engineer's mate any undue strife by giving up that information. No, sir, he'd take the lumps for that sign. Hell, Benny was right—it was a nice touch. And it was funny as hell.

  Relax, Joe. Debbie tried to calm his nerves, but his heart rate was through the roof. You know that Benny wouldn't sell you out.

  "And what about wrecking a perfectly good piece of hardware on my ship just to win a sim, and then go about sabotaging the propulsion systems because he didn't want to have to fight off a few wussy marines—"

  "Ahem!" USMC Brigadier General Larry Chekov grunted.

  "No disrespect intended, EndRun, just making a point." The admiral grinned at his XO. The XO muttered something about squids, but not loud enough for any of them to make out.

  "What's that, XO?"

  "Nothing, Admiral. Just clearing my throat."

  "Benny?" The admiral turned back to the CHENG.

  "Again, sir, I never would have done it in a million years." Benny repeated the same answer.

  "And why is that, Captain Harrison?"

  "Well, Admiral, I hate to admit this, but I just don't t
hink I'd have ever thought of it, sir." Benny let a thin smile cross his lips briefly.

  "Never would have thought of it?" the XO interjected. Joe was afraid the vein throbbing on the side of the Marine's neck was going to burst at any moment. "Am I to believe that you are telling us now that Buckley Jr. here is smarter than our CHENG?"

  "I'm afraid so, XO."

  "Pardon my French, Admiral, but that just will not fucking do, sir. Goddamnit, it will not fucking do, Admiral."

  "Why is that, Larry?" It was clear that the admiral was quite used to the fact that in order to properly function his XO seemed to have the need to profusely spout expletives several times a sentence, or he might keel over. After six years on the Madira, Joe was quite aware of that fact himself. He had learned a little too closely a few times. Everybody on board knew that the admiral and the XO had served together for decades, and so the admiral always seemed completely unfazed and mostly immune to the colorful expletives.

  "Sir, we are the USS-by-God Sienna Madira. The flagship of the fleet. Our marines are the goddamned toughest sonsabitches ever to shit between shoes. Our mecha jocks fly like no other and eat their own vomit for lunch on a regular basis all the while begging for fucking more. Our Army pukes puke better than any. So our by-God CHENG had better be able to out fucking CHENG any other goddamned CHENG in this wonderful fleet of ours, sir."

  "And your point, XO?" The admiral looked back and forth between the XO and Buckley. Joe stood motionless, not understanding at all what this was about. He felt the best plan was to stand still and keep his damned mouth shut until he was told to speak.

  "Well, sir, if'n our CHENG has done gotten so damned old and outdated that even he admits that Buckley Jr. here can out-CHENG him, then maybe he ought to be thinking about some damned greener pastures somewhere else, sir." The XO sighed. "No offense, Benny."

  "None taken, XO." Benny was clearly now straining not to laugh, but Joe was still left out of the joke.

  "Well, Benny, just what do you have to say about the XO's comments?" The admiral cocked his right eyebrow.

  "Well, sir, I guess he's right. I'll just have to retire, sir."

  "Well, damned if that sure doesn't leave us in a bind here, CHENG! We are to ship off to the Oort in a couple hours, and my CHENG is up and quitting on me? When do you plan to leave us?"

  "Uh, Admiral, my bags are packed and I plan to make shore before the Madira breaks orbit, sir. I've got several weeks leave I put in for. I'm gonna take that, and then my final date is next month, sir. Of course, you already approved my leave, Admiral." Now Benny couldn't control his laughter.

  "Well, goddamn, that had slipped my mind. One other thing, sailor—you'll be missed around here, Benny." The admiral held his hand out sincerely and shook Benny's hand. Joe still didn't get the joke.

  "Thank you, sir."

  "Same goes for me, Benny. You always kept us running while we were in the shit," the XO added and shook hands with the CHENG. "Can't ask for more than that of any CHENG. So, you're not having a party or nothing?"

  "I just want to go home to Luna and spend some time with my great-great-grandchildren, sir. Apparently, I have thirty-seven of them." Joe wasn't sure, but he thought he actually saw a tear in the CHENG's eye. "I hate retirement parties."

  "Well, by damned you will have one, sailor, and that is an order. We'll make a point of it when we get back from the outer system." The admiral slapped Benny's shoulder. "But you are still leaving us in a serious bind."

  "No CHENG, sir." The XO nodded in agreement. The gruff Marine went straight back to his normal gridiron hardassed self. "Got to have a CHENG."

  "I'm aware of that XO. But who could do the job?" the admiral asked no one in particular.

  "If you ask me, sir, I think Buckley here would make a good CHENG someday," Benny said and turned to his assistant chief engineer with a big smile. "Maybe if he were put to work being the CHENG, he wouldn't have enough time to go about tearing up the Engineering Room every time he turns around. And it might make him a little more reluctant to fry himself with X-rays every chance he has a decent excuse to."

  "Buckley, you up for it?" The admiral looked Joe square in the eyes, but Joe didn't falter a bit. Well, his mind was racing, his heart was racing, and his stomach was in knots, hard U.S. Navy knots, but he didn't hesitate to answer.

  "Aye, aye, sir!"

  "Wait a minute, Admiral. There is a problem with that," the XO interrupted again.

  "What's that, Larry?"

  "The Blair has an O5 as their CHENG. We can't have a lower-ranked officer as our CHENG than she does. That just wouldn't be fitting, Admiral." Joe glanced at the old marine only slightly, since he didn't want to take his eyes off Admiral Wallace, but he couldn't tell from the glance if the XO was serious, joking, or just being an ass. But that was usually the way it was with General Chekov.

  "You're right, Larry." Rear Admiral Upper Half Wallace Jefferson turned and picked up something from his desk and handed it to Joe. "Open it, son."

  Joe opened the little box and found a silver leaf and two melding fabric patches. Each of the patches had three gold stripes at the bottom with a single gold star above them in the middle of the patch. The smaller of the patches was for the collar of his UCU jacket and the larger for his shoulder. Joe didn't say a word.

  "Congratulations, Commander Buckley." The admiral offered Joe his hand.

  "Take care of her, Joe." Benny slapped his protégé on the back. "Or should I say CHENG?"

  Chapter 9

  July 1, 2394 AD

  Ross 128, Planet Five, a.k.a. Arcadia, 40,000 Kilometers above New Megalopolis

  Friday, 3:09 PM, Frontier City Standard Time

  Friday, 11:09 AM, Earth Eastern Standard Time

  The Separatist flagship wasn't like the previous warships of the Separatist fleet. The ships used in major battles at the Martian Exodus and at the Battle of the Oort had been retrofitted cargo haulers. The haulers were large, even bigger than the U.S. supercarrier class ships, but they were still old reconfigured cargo ships that had been turned into makeshift warships. The fact that the old haulers were, well, old is what led the U.S. forces to refer to them derogatorily as "rust buckets."

  The Separatists had been updating and building new weapons since they had moved from Mars to the Tau Ceti system twelve years ago. There was some intelligence that suggested that the Tau Ceti colony had been in on the Separatist movement all along and perhaps had been developing mecha, weapons, and even the new line of battleships for them. It was unclear who had retrofitted the previous generation of ships for them, although Tau Ceti was the most likely candidate. It was possible that the Separatists had retrofitted the ships in space somewhere deep in the outer parts of the Sol System. After all, they had managed to build a small moon-sized QMT teleport facility in the Oort Cloud right under the U.S. military's nose. And then they managed to plan an exodus of over thirty million citizens from the Sol System to the Oort facility and then on to Tau Ceti.

  In twelve years, the thirty million Separatists, along with the thirteen million colonists at Tau Ceti, had managed to manufacture a brand new fleet that was just now coming on line. Four of the new supercarrier-class ships and five new battle cruisers had gone through their checkout flights and were prepping for their maiden voyages. The four supercarriers were equipped with a second generation of Stingers, which were copies of the U.S. FM-12s; new transfigurable Gnats, comparable to the U.S. VTF-32 Ares-Ts; and a new version of Orcus droptanks that had a bot mode similar to that of the U.S. M3A17-Ts. The battle-cruiser class ships carried Gnats and armored troops and were smaller, more maneuverable ships. The haulers and previous generation of ships still existed, but the question was if there were enough personnel available for them to have crew.

  The flagship of the United Separatist Republic was the USR Deborah Sampson. The Sampson, no matter what star system's technology one considered, was a state-of-the-art warship fully equipped with modern SIF generators, directed-energy
weapons, missile tubes, a fast hyperspace-jaunt projector, catapult bays for mecha and drop tubes, two hundred kilogram projectile rail cannons, and QMT teleporters with personnel snap-back capability.

  The Sampson was over three kilometers long and about half that in width and depth. The general design was very similar to the U.S. supercarrier designs. Since that is what she had been designed to fight, the design was perfectly logical. Rumors were that Elle Ahmi had designed the flagship herself, right down to the Mars-red color scheme of the interior décor. The color scheme was most likely the reason for that particular rumor. Every citizen of the U.S.R. understood that Elle Ahmi had a nostalgic soft spot for Mars in her heart—though they also realized that was probably the only soft spot she had anywhere.

  The Sampson had been on line for several weeks and had a full crew complement. It had made several deep-space hyperspace jaunts as well as several QMT jumps between Tau Ceti and Ross 128. On two separate occasions she had simulated an attack on one of the outer planet moons of Tau Ceti. All of the flight wings were deployed as well as the droptanks and armored troops. The ship and crew combination was a well-oiled machine and definitely deserved the title of flagship to the U.S.R.

  Flagship flight-wing crewman Ensign Bella Penrose sat near the viewport in the starboard galley picking at her food and staring out at the large QMT facility. The facility hung in a non-Keplerian orbit hovering over the capital city of the U.S. colony of Arcadia. The Ross 128 colony was as beautiful as Tau Ceti and was far more developed. Tau Ceti had over fifty million people and had been established for a few decades. Ross 128, on the other hand, was nearly a hundred years old and had over one hundred million colonists. The colony was old enough to have several generations of native-born Arcadians.

  Penrose looked at the large octagonal structure and towers of the small moon-sized facility just beneath the warship. The facility reminded her of the ones she had seen at the Oort Cloud in the Sol System, and the one above New Tharsis in the Tau Ceti system. The times she had seen those facilities her name had been either Kira Shavi or Nancy Penzington.