by Jack Hanson
Archer bowed his head, and those attending followed in a moment of silence. Archer swallowed, and then spoke again.
“These four,” he gestured with a hand, “fought against a hardened patrol of rogue Peace Federation elements. There should be two more cadets up here, but they are still recovering from the battle. Three more, as you know, perished in the conflict, ambushed by two Leitani walkers, three platoons of Naith, and a Khajali solo.”
There were a few gasps at that last mention, but the more experienced janissaries grunted at the mention of the Leitani as well.
The commander turned his head. “Master Assault Sergeant Black, read the commendation,” Archer ordered, and stepped back.
Black flicked his lapel, and pulled a tablet from a hip pocket, his voice rumbling over the assemblage. “On a training patrol to Fatima III, Epsilon and Beta Teams began a sweep of a suspected base of raiders. Upon contact, it was revealed that the intelligence was wrong, and the enemy was actually a rogue Peace Federation unit. Immediately, Cadets Hailey and Warner were cut down by enemy forces. At great risk to herself, Cadet Harper began to apply first aid to attempt to save Cadet Hailey’s life. While she failed, her actions demonstrated great courage and her desire to put the needs of the group over her own desires.”
He stopped, and Ostler stepped forwards, reading from his own tablet. “With Cadet Hailey in danger’s way, Cadet Fairnought stepped up and provided supporting fire to distract the enemy Leitani walkers. Cadet Fairnought drew the enemy fire with little regard to his own wellbeing, allowing the elements of Epsilon and Beta teams to regroup and form fighting positions. At this point Cadets Per’Kish and Dragvik began to provide steady and accurate fire, breaking up onrushing Naith assaults and blunting the momentum of the ambush.”
Ostler stepped back, and Pairna stepped forwards, needing no tablet and reciting from his eidetic memory. His low, croaking rasp grabbed the attention of all present as he told what came next. “At this point, Cadet Fairnought watched as Janissary Baqi was cut down by a cloaked Khajali warrior. The Khajali prepared to assault Cadets Winchester and Falconer in their fighting position. At great personal risk to himself, he engaged the enemy Khajali in melee combat and drew its attention away from his vulnerable teammates. He still recovers from the battle, having fought his foe to a standstill. Cadets Falconer and Winchester retrieved Cadet Fairnought’s fallen rifle, and proceeded to slay Naith ruthlessly, finally killing the last of the ambush in close combat with extreme prejudice.”
With the Khajali done, Commandant Welton stepped forward, speaking for the first time. “It is my honor to award these cadets with the Cadet Clasp, given to those who have demonstrated what being a janissary is, and honoring the academy from which they came. It is as much a privilege for them as it is for us, since they honor us further by wearing our colors on their uniform. “
Welton and Archer moved to a low table, where vellum scrolls and cords rested. Welton picked up the cords reverently, while Archer gathered the bound scrolls. Slowly they walked down the line, sliding the cords around each shoulder one by one. Each cadet received a scroll from Archer and a handshake from both. With the awards handed out, Welton turned to the parade assembly.
“Let’s give these cadets a round of applause,” he said with none of the formality that had dominated the event.
The response was overwhelming, with whoops from the senior class. They had lost friends, not only from this patrol, and were glad to see that some of their own had struck the enemy a crushing blow and been honored for it. As the applause died down, Archer spoke up.
“Leaders, dismiss your groups by class seniority. Fall out.”
As the sounds of marching rang out across the parade field, Salem noticed Black saying something to Ostler, an arm around his shoulder, and then gave him a pat before they separated. Black approached Sand and Salem, looking over them appreciatively.
“You all did well. I’m proud of how you responded out there,” he said.
“Thank you, sir,” Sand said, “but that recitation wasn’t exactly what happened. You, Sergeant Ostler, and ar’bakh Pairna all played a pretty major part in what happened, but it sounded like we were responsible for all of it.”
“So it did,” Black admitted, “but we weren’t the ones being honored. It was you and your fellow cadets who went above and beyond what was expected of you. When those reports hit the desks of the League of Silence, I understand there was some disbelief.”
“Those reports went to the League of Silence?” asked Salem. She and Sand gave each other a worried glance. Few positive things came from coming to the attention of the Empire’s intelligence and inquisition arm.
“Walk with me. Let’s go see our teammates,” said Black, and the trio stepped off the podium and walked across the emptying parade field. “There are definitely questions being asked, and the next Armistice Summit is going to be interesting. The Empire might demand more concessions from the Federation based on this incident.”
“Sir,” Salem spoke up, wanting to ask something that had bothered her since she had seen it. “How did you manage to do what you did?”
Black looked over at her. “What’s that, Cadet?” he asked.
“I looked over, and you were knocking around the walker. You were staggering it, really, and I was just curious how you managed that,” she said. Salem felt nervous for some reason, and knew the sensation was out of place. Knowing that didn’t take away the sinking feeling in her gut though.
Black nodded a little, giving a half smile before speaking. “You saw that? Well, I’ve been augmented a little as a reward for good service, and those walkers aren’t as stable as they look if you know how to hit them. He curled his forearm, looking down at his fingers as he moved them. “I had cybernetic musculature implanted in my arms and shoulders after getting my shoulder blown out by a Naith shard cannon.”
Salem nodded, accepting this explanation. Sand, who had been busy gunning down exposed Naith, had not seen this part of the battle.
“You want to run that by me again, Salem?” he asked before looking at Black. “Sir?”
Salem began to speak, but Black cut in. “I was battling those Leitani walkers, and striking them harder than they could handle. That’s all.”
“Sir, with all due respect you were doing more than just striking them,” Salem countered.
Black shrugged. “I’ve never been one to trumpet my achievements. I’d rather just leave it at that, if that’s alright. You cadets deserve the accolades, and I’d only take away from that.”
They walked in silence for a moment, and then Sand spoke up. “Sir, is it common to get a headache in combat? I got an incredible one for a moment there.”
“I did too,” Salem added, rubbing the back of her head in memory. “It was like a spike that went away all of a sudden.”
“Just stress,” said Black nonchalantly. “Better than pissing your pants. “
Sand and Salem guffawed at this.
“Don’t laugh too hard,” Black said. “I’ve seen it happen before plenty of times. No one can see a headache.”
“I was just worried it was something more serious,” said Sand. “Can I ask why you tackled Jane, sir?”
“Needed to get her out of the line of fire and I ended up hitting her harder than I meant to,” responded Black. “I didn’t think I’d knock her out for two days.”
“Think they’re awake now, Sergeant?” asked Salem.
“Maybe. Not looking forward to Jane waking up. She and Hailey were close, and I think she’s going to take it rough. She’ll need some space, but all the same you two and Paris need to keep an eye on her. Let her have her solitude, but try and draw her out slowly.”
“Sounds like you have some experience with this, Sergeant,” commented Sand.
There was a silence, and Black wore a wan half smile.
“I know a
little about grief. Any… janissary… who’s been around for a while does. Shame about her loss, but you three will be there for her, I’m sure.”
“Of course, Sergeant,” said the two as they arrived at the clinic. The same blonde janissary from their first visit was there, and looked up as they entered.
“Master Sergeant Black,” she said with a smile, “you’re early today.”
“Hello, Corporal Thompson. We just got back from the award ceremony, and thought we’d check in on our teammates,” he said.
Salem and Sand exchanged glances. They had visited the last two days and not run into Black.
“Well, Master Sergeant, I believe Cadet Fairnought is awake and doing well. Cheera says Cadet Harper should wake up shortly as well,” Thompson replied brightly. She pressed a button, and the doors slid open.
“Take care,” said Black as they walked to the back of the clinic. There was the faint odor of cinnamon, and Cheera was sitting next to Jane’s bed stroking her brow. She wielded her immense claw with surprising tenderness, humming a lullaby as she did. Paris was across the aisle from Jane, napping. His entire upper torso had been bandaged, along with his head.
The Bhae Chaw looked up at the approach of the trio.
“Greetings Black, Falconer, Winchester,” she said pleasantly. “I was wondering when you would arrive as a group.”
“Hello, Cheera,” said Black. “How are they?”
She tilted her head towards Paris. “That one will be fine. His body has healed itself quickly, and I have had to do very little for him. This one grieves though. She’s woken up since yesterday, weeping and calling out, and then sank back into sleep. I am doing what I can to heal her sorrow, but I can only do so much.”
“She’ll have to face it soon enough,” said Black, shaking his head a little.
“So she shall,” said Cheera neutrally.
A cough from behind them made everyone turn. Paris was blinking himself awake, looking around. His teammates shouted his name and ran to his side, gripping his hands. He smiled sleepily at them, looking over at Black and Cheera.
“Hey, guys. Sergeant. So we won? That’s what Cheera told me when I woke up this morning, but I wasn’t sure if that was a dream or not,” he murmured, and then winced.
“Head still hurting?” asked Cheera with concern, leaving Jane’s side and moving to Paris.
“A little,” he admitted, “but to be honest it might be because I’m famished as well.”
“Of course,” the Bhae Chaw said, and taped a console on his bedside.
“How are you doing?” asked Salem, kissing his cheek.
“I’m doing alright. Just had a wall dropped on me, you know how it goes. Apparently it’s bad for your health,” he said softly. The joke made the two smile, and he looked over at Sand. “Is that a Cadet Clasp?” he asked, glancing over at Salem as well.
“It is,” said Black, finally approaching the bed. “I’ve got your commendation and clasp waiting, along with Cadet Harper’s, in my office.” He gripped Paris’s leg and gave it a firm squeeze. “You did well, Fairnought. We’re all proud of you. Pairna couldn’t send a message to Rhulo fast enough. He would have come here himself, but Pairna convinced him that it would be counterproductive.”
Paris smiled, squeezing Sand and Salem’s hands with ferocious strength.
“I’m just glad we’re all alive,” he managed to say, and looked like he was about to add to that statement when a scream ripped through the air.
The cadets jumped, while Black and Cheera turned to look at Jane, who began to sob. Salem dropped Paris’s hand and ran to her side, embracing the girl who buried her head in Salem’s shoulder.
“He’s dead, Salem! Dead! And it’s all my fault!” Jane choked out.
Salem made a series of low shushing sounds, stroking Jane’s hair.
“No, Jane, it’s not your fault. It’s war, that’s all it is. Shitty luck and bad timing,” she said.
Jane shook her head, but didn’t respond.
There was silence from the men and the Bhae Chaw as they listened to Jane sob. A cadet orderly from somewhere in the depths of the clinic arrived with a heavy breakfast of raw fruits and meats. Uncomfortable, he placed the tray on Paris’s bedside and left quickly.
Black broke the silence, walking over to Jane’s bed and placing a hand on her shoulder.
“Sorrow is a barb that lodges in the heart, and you can’t rip it out. You just learn to live with it,” he told her.
Jane turned to look at him, her eyes puffy from tears, yet angry. Salem’s first instinct was to angrily demand to know what Black knew of sorrow, but the frown on his face and knowing what she did about him stifled it. Jane wiped at her face with her sleeves, and Black nodded.
“Again, congratulations you four,” he said as he pulled back. “You have nothing to be ashamed of, and you acted courageously in the face of overwhelming odds. I know it seems a weak balm, but those three didn’t die needlessly. You all did honor to their sacrifice, and for what it’s worth, I’m proud of you.”
Black locked gazes with each one of them. “I’ll see you lot tomorrow,” he said by way of departure, and nodded at Cheera. “Thank you for taking care of my cadets.”
There was silence over the group as Black walked away, until a fresh round of sobs began to wrack Jane, and Salem attempted to comfort her once more.
“Do you think it’s true?” Sand asked Paris softly.
“What’s that?” asked Paris.
“That we honored them by not dying,” said Sand.
“It seems like we would have honored them more if we had kept them alive,” said Paris.
Sand shook his head. “People die in war. Sometimes all we can do is die well and hope we’re avenged. There’s plenty of people out there who can’t even claim that much,” the smaller cadet responded.
Paris opened his mouth to say something, and then nodded.
“As sad as it is,” he said, looking at Jane and Salem, “I have to agree. Seems like Salem has it right after all. There’s just no accounting for shit luck and bad timing.”
Chapter Seventeen—War Buddies
Because the strength of the pack is the wolf, and the strength of the wolf is the pack.
—Rudyard Kipling, Terran Poet and Author
Jane was crying in her room again. The two cadets had been released from the infirmary yesterday, and Jane had spent the rest of Friday crying and sleeping, creeping out to use the latrine or to get something to drink. The other three cadets were greeted with a bleary eyed “I’m fine” before she stumbled to her room, the chirp of the magnet lock activating each time.
“We’ve got to do something,” said Sand, laying down his tablet and looking over at Paris and Salem. Paris was still wearing his bandages, and he couldn’t meet Sand’s steady gaze. Looking down at his hands, he finally responded to the smaller cadet.
“I don’t know what to do, Sand. I can’t imagine losing someone like she did,” Paris murmured, curling his fingers several times. “I’ve wanted to go to her, I really have,” he finally managed, looking up at Sand, “but I have no idea what I should say. Whatever I go over in my head sounds so damn empty, so I freeze up and tell myself what a fool I am for trying.”
Salem and Sand looked at the Rillik as he went on.
“So much happened that day. I think back to a thousand little events, where maybe I could have changed something for the better so that everyone survived, but I can’t. I want to forget how terrified I was when I fought that Khajali. My guts were clenching the entire time while it seemed that I was buying seconds to live,” he said, swallowing hard. “I thought I was going to die, there at the end, and that’s something I’m still poking at, how I felt about that.”
It was telling to the other two that Paris talked about his feelings, stoic as he generally was. Paris, for his
part, didn’t know how to deal with the flood of emotions. The regret and sorrow, especially at the idea of Jane, Salem, and Petra in some Khajali harem, was understandable, but the relief confused him. Did he really wish to die? He didn’t know how to answer that.
Salem put aside her knitting and swung her legs out from underneath her.
“You’re going to make me do it,” she said as she stood up.
“You don’t have to,” started Sand, only to be cut off by Salem’s raised hand.
“No, it wasn’t a statement, or a question, just me thinking out loud. Women process things differently, and you two wouldn’t understand what she’s going through,” Salem told Sand as she made her way towards Jane’s door.
Sand just shook his head. “If you say so,” he said neutrally. He looked at Paris. “I don’t think I understand what you went through. I don’t think it’s a gender thing, but I’m at a loss at what to say to Jane… or even to you.”
Paris was silent for another minute before standing up.
“I’m going to turn in early. Good night, Sand,” he said.
“Was it something I said?” Sand asked, trying not to let the hurt show in his voice.
“No, no, it’s not you, Sand. It’s just Jane is kicking up a lot of emotions that I didn’t want to confront, and now that I have to… I just want to be alone,” he told Sand.
“I… Okay,” said Sand as he watched the Rillik’s broad back disappear into his room, the door shutting behind him. Salem had come back out of her room with a small magnet in her hand, and began to run it up and down the lock. After a minute, there was a small pop, and she slid the door open, stepped in, then shut it behind her.
The room smelled a bit stale, and Salem could hear Jane shifting on the bed in response to her presence.
“How did you…? Whatever. Just get out, please. I want to be alone,” Jane said, sounding tired.
Salem sat on the bed, and reached out to find Jane. Her hand rested on what felt like a shoulder, and Jane pulled away after a moment.