“My people believe that when your body is hurt, your soul is wounded too,” she said. “You need time to recover both.”
“Time is one luxury we don’t have off ship. I’m sure there will be plenty of time once we’re back on board the Charlemagne.”
“Take is seriously, Captain. A war chief should always be prepared to lead his people in battle.”
“Is that how you think of me?” Dean asked. “As a war chief?”
“My ancestors had many leaders in every tribe. There were elders who lent wisdom, and chiefs who decided when and where the tribe should go. Medicine Men kept our history and spirituality alive, even through the long occupation when many native populations disappeared. They gave us faith, that a resurgence would happen, and it did.”
“I thought you weren’t religious,” Dean said.
“I said I don’t believe in organized religion. I believe in the power of my ancestors and the medicine of my tribe. The Crow are a strong people, and growing stronger everyday.”
“So why join EsDef?” Dean asked.
“Because I am a warrior,” she said. “That is my destiny. To ride into battle, to count coup against my enemies, and to represent my people. I have always known that I would fight for a great war chief. A leader of many people, a brave strategist who would stand against the overwhelming evil that is coming. Perhaps you are that war chief.”
“It would be an honor,” Dean said, smiling even though Tallgrass couldn’t see his face.
“You must prepare for the battle to come. Heal your body, heal your mind.”
“How do I do that?” Dean asked.
“Ask your ancestors, they will guide you,” she said.
“My ancestors,” Ghost said as he silently eased up behind them, “would tell you to drink whiskey, chase women, and above all, stick it to the man!”
Dean turned to see his entire HA troop, along with Ghost. They came lumbering up the metal staircase, their heavy boots banging on the metal.
“You should all be resting,” Dean said. “You’ve finished helping with the bodies, you’re relieved of duty for now.”
“You’re on watch Captain, we will stand with you,” D’Vris said in his thick accent.
“We won’t rest until you do,” Adkins added.
“Where’s Harper?” Dean asked.
“She went to check on Cat,” Pimrey said.
“And Chancy?”
Everyone shook their head. The Demolitions Specialist hadn’t been seen since escorting the EMT out of the compound. Dean felt a sliver of dread just thinking about Chancy, but he didn’t want to ride the Corporal too hard. It was better to let him have some space. Dean guessed Chancy was probably asleep somewhere, doing his best to avoid any actual work.
The platoon stood guard for two more hours before they were relieved. Dean got everyone settled in a small building behind the Papal Palace, but close to the kitchens, where the cooks had prepared massive pots of spaghetti complete with meatballs the size of Dean’s fist and loaves of garlic bread. Dean insisted the platoon drink water instead of the wine they were offered, even though some of the other platoons took the liberty to imbibe.
Dean had eaten his fill and was about to catch some sleep when the command icon on his TCU beeped. He wanted to curse, but instead he activated the link. It was an automated message sent by Major McDowell requesting that he join the ranking officer in the Pope’s Palace. Dean stood up, told his platoon where he was headed, and set off.
He entered through the rear door, which was in fact the servants’ entrance. He passed through the kitchens where the workers were busy cleaning up and preparing for the meals they would prepare the next day. Dean passed a series of small utility rooms, before eventually coming out in the vestibule near the elevator. Circling around the elevator Dean found himself in the Grand Reception room. It’s the sole purpose had been to awe the Pope’s visitors, but it had been converted into a working military logistics base. Dean saw no less than six workstations, each one made up of clusters of the antique desks, and tables, and one that was made up of a gleaming grand piano with it’s lid closed. Each workspace was filled with data pads, screens, and communication devices. The Grand Reception room had become a busy office space and the palace seemed diminished.
Dean moved quickly to Major McDowell’s group that were gathered around two sofa tables that were pushed together to make one large workspace. Dean waited patiently as the Major finished a private comlink transmission. Then he saluted the Major.
“Captain Blaze,” he said. “Thank you for coming. I need to debrief you on your operation. It seems there are some puzzling facts about your actions here on Rome Three that I’m hoping you can straighten out.”
“Of course, Major, whatever you need to know.”
“Lets move out of this noise and into some place a little more private.”
He turned and began walking back toward the elevator. Dean was a little surprised when they were joined by another Captain, a man named Walker, and an aide as they rode up to the second floor. The Major led Dean and the other two officers to a room that looked to be an old fashioned library. The walls were covered in old antique, leather bound books, and in the center of the room were four low backed sofas of tufted leather forming a square. Dean’s blood ran cold when he saw Corporal Grayson Chancy III sitting with a book on his lap and a tumbler of what appeared to be whisky in one hand. His battle helmet was no where to be seen, and he had a look of superiority on his face that put Dean immediately on the defensive.
Chapter 31
“Have a seat, gentlemen,” the Major said, waving to the sofa opposite from Chancy.
Dean didn’t want to sit down, but he didn’t think the Major was merely making a suggestion. He sat next to the other Captain, and the aide took a place behind the sofa the Major settled onto.
“Normally debriefs are handled by the O&A, but in this case I thought it prudent to check into these accusations personally. Corporal Chancy has brought some troubling details to light. I’m sure by now you are aware of who his father is?”
“Yes,” Dean said, using all his self control to keep his voice steady. He wanted to leap across the space from his sofa to where Chancy sat and beat the arrogant tattletale into a bloody heap, but he restrained himself.
“So, normally I wouldn’t put to much weight into a Corporal’s complaints about his commanding officer, but in this case we better just see to our due diligence without delay. Captain Blaze, were you given orders to bring explosive ordinance on this mission?”
“No sir,” Dean said.
“Yet you did bring explosives, why is that?”
“In truth sir, I ordered Sergeant Eleanor Tallgrass to bring a variety of munitions in case we needed them.”
“And why would you do that, Captain? Was the order to utilize non-lethal ammunition unclear?”
“No sir, and as you know we used only non-lethal ammunition on the colonists, including the Pope’s Swiss Guard.”
“I still don’t understand, Captain? Explain to me why anything else was brought on this mission?”
“My responsibility as Captain of my platoon is to carry out my orders, to see that the mission we were given is completed in the most excellent and efficient manner possible, and to ensure the safety of my Specialists. We trained with the non-lethal ammunition in route to the New Rome system, Major. But I feared that once the locals knew we had no intention of using lethal force they would rise up and overwhelm us. I opted to bring regular ordinance to give my platoon the very best chance of fulfilling our mission.”
“So you planed to kill civilians,” Chancy said with a sneer.
“Are you talking to me, Corporal? If so, you will address me as Captain.”
“Captain,” the Major interrupted. “How were you to fulfill the mission with regular ordinance?”
“Just the way we did, Major,” Dean said through clenched teeth. “We used explosives to knock down trees in order to gain con
trol of the troop transport a few miles from where our shuttle went down. We used more explosives to cut the power to the city, which stopped the jamming of our military frequencies and allowed us to coordinate our efforts. We needed ordinance to get into this compound, while under heavy guard and city security fire. And we used the last of our ordinance to get past the kill zone that leads to the bunker where we acquired the Pope, as per your orders.
“We killed no one,” Dean continued. “We operated within the scope of the mission. In fact, without the explosive ordinance we would not have gotten into the compound, much less been able to secure it.”
“We are Force Recon, Captain,” the Major went on. “We follow orders and we find a way to get things done without playing fast and loose with those orders.”
“I understand, Major. I didn’t realize I was overstepping my authority.”
“Well, in the truest sense you didn’t,” said Captain Walker, speaking up for the first time.
“That’s not true,” Chancy said. “He cheated. He put us all in danger.”
“Spoken like a true blue blood,” Walker said, his voice dripping with contempt. “Major, I have to agree with Captain Blaze. He accomplished an amazing tactical victory under the most arduous circumstances. I dare say we would have failed miserably if not Captain Blaze’s actions.”
“It was a group effort,” Dean said. “I have an outstanding platoon, mostly.”
He said the last word after turning his head toward Chancy.
“Not only would we have failed,” Captain Walker continued, making Dean’s case for him, “we would have lost most of the platoons that put down here. I don’t know how the colonists managed to jam every frequency, but it’s nothing short of a miracle that more Specialists didn’t die when their shuttles crashed. If Captain Blaze hadn’t had the foresight and the means to knock out the power here, we would have lost the survivors to enemy fire.”
“I for one,” the Major said, “want it made clear that I do not condone your actions, Captain Blaze. You may have had a favorable outcome in this instance, but as I said to you earlier I was not thrilled to have you on this mission. I think my original assessment of you was closer to the truth. You are seeking to enhance your reputation, by any means necessary.”
“Sir, I’m sorry that you see things that way,” Dean said, holding back his rage so that it didn’t effect his voice. “I did what I did for my platoon. If I was wrong, I apologize. If my actions were criminal I will face the penalties. It was my decision to bring live ordinance on this mission. And we won the day due to the brave, selfless deeds of my platoon, with the exception of Corporal Chancy, who has proven himself to be a craven liar.”
“That’s absurd!” Chancy shouted, jumping to his feet. “I’m no coward.”
“You have no respect for the chain of command, or the call of duty, Corporal,” Dean said, standing slowly to his feet. “Your actions, and the sworn testimony of the entire platoon will attest to that.”
“Gentlemen,” Major McDowell said, but in a somewhat frightened tone. “Let us not do anything we will regret.”
“I’ll see you’re run out of the service for this, Blaze,” Chancy said, pointing at Dean with a shaking finger before stomping away.
He threw his tumbler to the floor as he left the library, smashing it into tiny shards and spilling the whisky across the imported hardwood.
“That boy has a temper,” Captain Walker said.
“Both of you listen to me,” Major McDowell said. “His father is Rear Admiral Chancy, one of the most powerful men in the service. He can ruin all our careers.”
“I stand by my actions, Major,” said Dean.
“And so should you, Captain,” Walker said. “You proved yourself to be resourceful and acted in the best interest of your platoon and the service, not mention the colonists on this planet. You stopped a damn war, is what you did.”
“Be that as it may, I want you back up in orbit, Blaze,” McDowell said. “We’ll take things from here. Contact your ship and have them send a shuttle for you.”
“Our shuttle was damaged in the landing, Major,” Dean said.
“It will have been replaced by now from one of the larger vessels. Go, I don’t want you here.”
“Yes sir,” Dean said, feeling relieved and disgusted at the same time.
As Dean walked from the room he couldn’t help but overhear what Major McDowell said to Captain Walker.
“That boy is going to bring the Brass down on our heads,” he grumbled.
“Shawn, get your head out of your ass,” Walker replied.
Dean left the room and turned on a private channel to the Charlemagne. He wasn’t sure how the news of his return would be taken, and part of him was a bit hesitant. It was too much to hope for that he could avoid the negative connotation associated with being sent back before the mission was officially concluded. Not that Dean wanted to stay. His platoon wasn’t doing anything more than acting as guards. Yet there was still the possibility of conflict and it irked Dean to think of leaving before the fight was over.
“Charlemagne Command, this Wolfpack, do you copy, over?”
“I have you five by five, Captain,” Lieutenant Owen replied. “How are things on the ground, over?”
“Progressing,” Dean replied, “but we have wounded and request transport back to the Charlemagne at your earliest convenience, over.”
“Roger that,” Owens said. “I’ll get approval and get back to you with an ETA. You’re in Vatican City, correct?”
“Affirmative,” Dean replied.
“We’ll get the ball in motion then Captain. Charlemagne actual, over and out.”
Dean walked slowly to the medical facility. His thoughts were crowding in his mind like passengers on a busy transit line, all vying for his full attention, but he was tired and concentration was difficult. He had to face the fact that his career was in jeopardy. Chancy was intent on ruining him, which was infuriating since Dean had given the spoiled, insubordinate Corporal every opportunity to thrive. He was learning that some people simply didn’t want to change, they weren’t happy unless they had something to complain about. And in Chancy’s case, he was not only delusional about his abilities and standing with the platoon, he had a major inferiority complex.
Doctor Esther Rosen was at the entrance to the medical facility, making notes on her data pad and watching her patients through a thick glass wall. Dean stood silently for a moment, admiring the determined physician. She had every opportunity to refuse to care for Chavez and Cat, yet Dean could see them both resting comfortably, all the while watched over by the diligent physician.
“How are they?” Dean asked as a way of announcing his presence.
Esther Rosen turned, but didn’t seem surprised to see him. She had a confidence that Dean had never experienced in a woman before. It wasn’t the haughty superiority he had sensed in many of the wealthy women he had met on the EsDef publicity tour. Neither was it merely confidence in her skills as a physician. There was a certainty about the doctor that was very appealing, as if she knew exactly who she was and her purpose in life.
“Resting,” she said. “Their vitals look good. There’s no sign of infection. Both surgeries were completely successful. All they need now is time and rest.”
“Good, we’ve been recalled to our ship.”
“The soldiers are leaving Nova Roma?” she asked.
“No, not everyone, just my platoon.”
Her forehead wrinkled at the perplexity of the situation. Dean found the expression attractive, and even though he thought of Esma, he tried to sweep her from his mind.
“That’s unfortunate,” she replied.
“You’re going to miss me,” Dean said with a smile, forgetting that he still had his battle helmet on and she couldn’t see his face.
“It’s unfortunate that you’re going to put the patients through the stress of leaving orbit,” she replied. “You are a strange man, Captain.”
&nb
sp; Dean wanted to pop off his helmet and move closer to Rosen, even though he didn’t really know why. Still, the feeling was real. Perhaps, he wondered, it came from the sense of relief that surviving a dangerous mission evoked.
“How so?” he asked, not really wanting to hear the answer, but not wanting the conversation to end either.
“You are leaving, and yet you flirt. Do you really expect a favorable response?”
“Maybe,” he said, suddenly glad she couldn’t see his face.
“I’ve never even seen you without that awful helmet. Do most women swoon over you so easily?”
Dean could have said yes. He could have pointed out that he was a minor celebrity and that over the past several months on the publicity tour he was propositioned by women on a regular basis. Yet all he could think of at that moment was how foolish he was being.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m flattered, but I can’t imagine pining for a soldier who might never return.”
“I get that,” Dean said. “I’m leaving, this is your home. You heal people, I hurt people, we are polar opposites.”
“I suppose you have admirers,” she said, “in every colony world and spaceport.”
“Actually not,” Dean said.
“Then I am truly flattered. But even if you lived here on Nova Roma I couldn’t commit myself to a relationship while I’m in the Holy Father’s service.”
“Is that against the rules?” Dean asked.
“No, not against the rules. It’s just that my first and highest priority is seeing to the needs of Pope Nicolas. He has many needs.”
“He’s unhealthy?” Dean asked.
“God keeps him humble,” she said. “That, along with his weight, and advanced age, all combine to keep me very busy. He has been the Pope here for almost thirty years.”
Dean felt guilty knowing he was learning useful information. His dutiful side wanted to probe more. He couldn’t help but look around the medical facility for some clue as to the Pope’s conditions. On the other hand, he wanted to respect the trust Esther Rosen was giving him. Yet he knew, when he got a chance, he would bring up his concerns to Major McDowell. If the Pope was ill, that would influence the strategy that EsDef used in the Summit negotiations.
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