“Captain Killam told me you two had been invited to the brief and I wanted to introduce myself to you,” said Onaedo.
“I bet you’ll be busy once Killam hands out the work to you and the rest of the staff,” said Sheridan.
Onaedo shrugged. “I deal mainly with special operations, like the rescue mission you conducted on Ka-11.”
“So I guess we’ll be hearing from you before too long,” said Sheridan.
She nodded and motioned with her head for them to move away from the rest of the people so they could talk in private. “Do you think six weeks is enough time to build the Chosen deserters you have into a team capable of handling complex operations?”
Cole snorted derisively. “Ma’am, there’s no way in hell they’ll be ready in six weeks. It takes four months of difficult and demanding training for a Marine to become a competent squad leader. I’d bet a year’s wages that they wouldn’t be up to scratch if you gave us six or seven months.”
“Chosen soldiers aren’t trained to display individual initiative,” explained Sheridan. “What sergeants do in our armed forces is usually done by officers in theirs.”
“I’d read that but didn’t really believe it,” said Onaedo. “I always thought it was just propaganda from our side to make the Kurgans look dumb.”
“Sorry, it’s a fact,” said Sheridan. “You can’t just expect them to become more like our soldiers and NCOs overnight. First Sergeant Cole is right. If you want this done right, we’re going to need months of hard training to teach them how to fight effectively at the platoon and company level.”
“Gents, there aren’t many people who know we have former Chosen soldiers willing to fight against their own people. Those that do want us to keep pushing the envelope with them. Your mission to rescue the missing flight crew was seen as the first step in a larger game.”
“Ma’am, it’s not a game when you’re light-years away from the nearest support,” said Cole. “Soldiering is about knowing the person next to you can do their job and is there to watch your back. I’m sure you know that trust is earned not given, and I still don’t trust these deserters.”
Onaedo raised a hand. “I’m sorry. Perhaps calling it a game was a poor choice of words. Gentlemen, if these people can be made to work together at company level, then why not at brigade or division? The fact remains that there are people who want to exploit this brewing religious schism in the Kurgan Empire to bring it to its knees. Some are even advocating for the liberation of the planets we lost in the last war.”
“Training them to fight on our side is one thing,” said Sheridan. “Getting us involved in a civil war is another. You had best get whoever is keen to drag us into what will be a bloody, if not genocidal, war to re-examine their position. Don’t forget these aren’t people who are going to suddenly renounce their Kurgan citizenship and want to move back home to Earth. They worship the Kurgan religion as it was written millennia ago. Trust me, Sarran, we don’t want any part of this coming war.”
“Unfortunately, there are a fair number of politicians back home who would disagree with you, Mike. The brazen attacks on our military and government installations by Chosen sleeper agents all across the globe a few months back really spooked a lot of people. It’s those same people who have the president’s ear right now and they are looking for some payback.”
Sheridan shook his head. He was becoming frustrated. “Everyone on Earth needs to step back and take a couple of deep breaths before we commit ourselves to a course of action that we really don’t want. Revenge sounds great when your blood is up, but we’ve got to look at the long-term implications of what we could be getting ourselves involved in. I’m all for ending the war, but I’m dead set against widening the conflict by helping Khynisan Kurgans commit murder in the name of religion.”
“You should be a politician, Mike. You’re quite a passionate and persuasive speaker.”
“Lord, no,” said Cole, shaking his head. “The last thing we need are politicians who make sense. The whole system would fall apart if they all started to do that.
Onaedo chuckled. “Mike, I’ll pass on your concerns to Captain Killam, but the pressure from higher to use Komada’s people during Operation Olympic is enormous.”
“I’m a soldier and will do what I’m told, but please use some common sense when you look at what it is you want us to accomplish,” said Sheridan. “Whatever you come up with, keep it simple.”
“I will. You have my word on it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must get back to my office. I suspect there will be a stack of reports for me to go through before I go to bed tonight.”
Cole said, “Have fun with that, ma’am. Oh, by the way, we’ve stopped calling the Chosen deserters Komada’s people. They are now unofficially known as the Ghost Company.”
Onaedo smiled. “I like that.”
Sheridan watched as Onaedo hobbled away. He wondered what had caused her injury. Had she been wounded during a mission? What impressed him the most about her was that she seemed like a bright person who was open to other peoples’ points of view. He knew Onaedo would look out for their best interests.
“Sir, you’ve got to learn to control your emotions,” counseled Cole. “I was getting ready to drag you out of the room. You may not have noticed, but your voice was getting louder by the second. Also, when your ire is up, your right eyelid twitches. It’s a dead giveaway that you’re about to lose it.”
“I wasn’t getting upset, was I?”
“Come on, sir, you know the answer to that,” Cole checked his watch. “Say, we’ve got time before the shuttle leaves. Why don’t we head down to the galley and get some real food before we head back to the camp.”
“I thought you didn’t mind the food at the camp.”
“It’s okay. However, the stuff on your father’s flagship is much better. Unlike our mess tent, there are fresh fruit and vegetables here.”
Sheridan smiled at his friend’s perpetually empty stomach. “I don’t see why not. Lead on, First Sergeant.”
25
The sound of Cole’s thunderously loud snoring reminded Sheridan of an automatic cannon misfiring. Unlike his friend, he found sleep had eluded him. In his mind, he kept replaying his conversation with Onaedo. It was sheer madness to widen the war when they didn’t have to. There would be nothing to gain from involving Earth in the Kurgan Empire’s religious squabbles. He made a mental note to call his father as soon as he could to discuss his exchange with Onaedo.
“Michael, are you still awake back there?” asked Tarina over the shuttlecraft’s intercom.
He pressed a button on the arm of his chair and said, “Yes, I am. What’s up?”
“Staff Sergeant Celms wants to talk to you.”
“Patch him through.”
Celms’ face appeared on a screen mounted on the wall. “What’s up, Sergeant?” asked Sheridan.
“Sir, while you’ve been gone, Mister Komada has been up to his old tricks.”
“How so?”
“He’s separated some of the new followers from his old flock.”
Sheridan felt his anger beginning to rise. “Did he hurt or kill any of them?”
“He hasn’t killed any of them, but a couple look roughed up. Nothing serious though. I’ve got the medics checking them out.”
“How many people are we talking about?”
“Thirty-seven, sir.”
Sheridan wondered what had triggered Komada to purge his followers. “Sergeant, keep the two groups separated until we land back at the camp. I also want Mister Komada waiting for me in the mess tent.”
“Yes, sir.”
Sheridan turned off the screen and stared out the window at Illum Prime. Its yellow deserts stretched out as far as the eye could see. From space, the planet looked warm and welcoming. For a brief moment, Sheridan forgot his troubles and enjoyed the view. That was until the shuttle began to descend through the planet’s atmosphere. Within seconds, the ship shook and the view outs
ide was obscured by the red glow from the scorching heat of re-entry on the shuttle’s thermal protection shield.
“Did I miss something?” said Cole as he stretched his arms above his head.
“Komada is at it again. Looks like he decided to separate the wheat from the chaff while we were gone.”
“I stand by what I’ve been saying all along. We can’t trust that man. Anybody who does is a fool.”
“He may be a dangerous demagogue in your eyes, but in the eyes of the politicians back home on Earth, he’s their knight in shining armor.”
“Well, they’re backing the wrong horse. Mark my words, he’s going to cause us more grief than we can imagine.”
Sheridan didn’t doubt a word of what his friend had said. “The problem is that until we fail, and I mean really fail, no one will pay attention to what I . . . what we’ve been saying.”
Cole scratched his belly. “I wonder what set him off this time.”
The mood in the tent was tense. Sheridan stood eye to eye with Komada, while off to one side Cole rested his right hand on his pistol holster.
Sheridan took a step back and said, “Now, Mister Komada, I’d like you to explain why you disobeyed my order not to physically harm any of your people.”
“I did no such thing,” replied Komada, calmly.
“Then how do you explain the four broken legs, five broken arms, and the multiple sprains and fractures on more than twenty people?”
“Major, if you think I ordered my followers to attack those people, you have it all wrong. I stopped a massacre from occurring.”
Sheridan looked deep into Komada’s eyes. If he was lying to him, he hid it well. “Why don’t you tell me your side of the story before Captain Pheto comes back from the infirmary. She’s interviewing the people there to see if charges should be brought against you.”
“She can talk to whomever she wants. The story will always be the same. Those people are alive because of me.”
Sheridan pulled out a chair and sat down. “So, Mister Komada, in your words, what happened while I was gone?”
“Sir, during our training, the new officers have repeatedly told us that we must be prepared to go into battle against our former comrades.”
“Komada, you defected to us with the same thought in mind. What the second lieutenants have been saying shouldn’t be a surprise to you or any of the other soldiers.”
“I don’t think the reality of the situation sank in with some of the volunteers until today. When I returned from eating supper, I found a heated argument going on between some of the newer arrivals and a handful of men and women who had defected with me. When one of my more zealous corporals called them cowards, that’s when the fight broke out. It took me a couple of minutes to separate the two factions. By then it was too late and the damage was done.”
“Is there anyone who can verify your story?”
“Miss Pheto will provide you with the truth.”
“Take a seat,” ordered Sheridan.
Komada sat down. He looked straight ahead as if he was the only person in the room.
“I think I’ll check on Captain Pheto,” said Cole as he headed for the door.
“Good idea,” replied Sheridan.
Less than two minutes later, Cole walked back into the tent, shaking his head. He looked over at Sheridan and said, “He’s telling the truth. All of the injured people say the same thing. A fight broke out after some words were exchanged, and it was Komada who put a stop to it.”
“I guess I owe you an apology, Komada,” said Sheridan.
“That won’t be necessary, Major,” said Komada. “I would have thought precisely the same thing if our roles were reversed.”
“Komada, you need to speak with all of your people and have those who aren’t willing to fight to say so now. Let them know that there won’t be any repercussions taken against those who choose not to stay with us. We can’t go into battle if we don’t know who is and is not willing to fight.”
“I will do so right after I am set free.”
“You’re free to carry on. I want you to report to me first thing in the morning before we conduct PT and tell me how your discussion went.”
“Yes, sir.” Komada stood and bowed before leaving the tent.
“Every time he opens his mouth my skin crawls,” said Cole. “He may not have started the fight, but I bet he placed the seed in the minds of some of his people to see what would happen.”
“I’m not fond of him either,” said Sheridan. “Unfortunately, he and his people are the cards we have been dealt. I guess there’s no point in worrying about things. Come the morning, we’ll see how many people we have left in the company.”
“Company attention!” yelled Cole.
Two hundred pairs of feet came together on the dusty ground.
Cole spun about on his heel and brought his hand up to the brim of his field cap to salute Sheridan. “Sir, Ghost Company formed up and ready for physical training.”
Sheridan returned the salute. “How many officers and men do we have this morning, First Sergeant?”
“Six officers and one hundred and ninety-seven other ranks, sir.”
Sheridan was surprised. He had expected the number to be significantly lower. “How many chose not to continue their training with us?”
“Twenty-nine, sir.”
“Where are they now?”
“Staff Sergeant Celms has them at the landing pad. A transport ship is on its way down to pick them up.”
“Very good, First Sergeant. Order the company to stand at ease.”
Cole nodded and bellowed out the order.
The assembled soldiers relaxed in place. Sheridan walked forward until he could look into the faces of the men and women who had chosen to remain with Komada. Some had bruises on their faces from the fracas the night before, while others had bandages on their heads and hands.
“Mister Komada, front and center,” called out Sheridan.
Komada broke from the ranks and ran to Sheridan’s side. He stopped and saluted. “Yes, sir.”
“I don’t know what you said last night but it seems to have worked.”
“Eight of the people who had initially expressed their concerns about fighting their fellow Chosen citizens have seen the light and decided to join us.”
“I hope you’re right about those people. We can’t afford to have any weaknesses in our armor when the time comes to face the enemy.”
“I can vouch for each and every one of my followers.”
“I’m sure you do. Also, let’s clear one thing up, they’re not your followers, they’re soldiers in my company.” Sheridan took a step back and said, “Okay, Mister Komada, it’s time for you to learn to lead. The march is yours this morning. Take the usual ten klick route. I want to be back here in ninety minutes from now.”
The crack of small-arms fire filled the air. The ground on the rifle range shimmered in the distance like water under the hot noonday sun. Sheridan and Cole walked quietly behind the firing line watching Second Lieutenant Robinson’s platoon engage a series of moving man-sized targets.
“For God’s sake, watch your ammunition,” yelled Sergeant Cornwell at a young soldier busy changing the magazine on his weapon. Assigned to help Robinson train up her platoon, the sergeant was always screaming about one thing or another. Cole had called him aside several times and told him to tone it down, but the man seemed incapable of doing anything other than shouting.
Sheridan pulled Cole back from the firing. “In your estimation, how are the sergeants doing?”
“The language barrier is frustrating them all, but Cornwell is taking it the worst,” replied Cole. “Regrettably, his idea of leadership is to yell about everything. It’s not helping Robinson’s platoon to become a cohesive team.”
“Had he seen action prior to being seconded to us?”
Cole shook his head.
“I thought not. Suggestions?”
“We’re not likely t
o receive any more sergeants if we were to ask for them. So I say we pull Sergeant McPherson from company headquarters and assign him to help Robinson. I can keep a closer eye on Cornwell that way.”
“Okay, make the change tonight when everyone is back in the camp.”
“Sir, we’ve been at this for close to three weeks and we still haven’t heard a peep out of Major Onaedo. I don’t know about you but I’m beginning to get a little bit antsy. If we’re going to jump into Kurgan space, I’d like to know what they expect us to do so we can train for it.”
“I share your sentiments. I’ve called or texted her at least a dozen times a day. So far nada in response.”
“I have to admit I do like Komada’s idea to bring out the competitive nature between the platoons.”
“Yes. Allowing the best soldier from each platoon to help him lead the rest of the company in morning and evening prayers has worked wonders.”
“Last night I caught a couple men from Morgan’s platoon going over heavy weapons drills. When I asked them what they were up to, they said they wanted to be the best team in the platoon. A couple of weeks ago, they wouldn’t have gone near that chain gun unless told to.”
“Now if we could only get their corporals and sergeants to start thinking and acting like NCOs, we’d have the beginnings of a decent team.”
Cole dug out his canteen and took a long swig of tepid water before putting it back on his belt. “Sir, I think I may have a solution.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“It’s time they started doing the duties and responsibilities Staff Sergeant Celms’ men have been doing.”
“Such as?”
“Guard duty, NCO, along with the daily cleanliness, and camp maintenance responsibilities. I say we give it all to them. Celms can supervise them without interfering. Tie it to Komada’s rewards program and we’ll have them fighting over one another to be the duty NCO.”
Sheridan chuckled. “Put it into action starting tomorrow evening.”
Ghost Company Page 15