“How in the—”
“There’s no time to explain, Don. What’s your plan?”
A thousand clichés ran through his mind. When in charge, take charge. Secure the high ground. Lead from the front. Put steel on target. All of them worthless, seeming like platitudes of false motivation. “I’m making this up as I go.”
“What’s the mission then?”
“Get our people out alive,” Garrett said.
“Isn’t that what it’s all about?” Munsen asked as the shuttle’s nose dipped into the atmosphere for the first time. “How we do that will never be the same way twice. That’s the first thing you’ve got to remember about a command like the one you tried to put together.”
Garrett nodded. “And what’s the second thing I need to remember about a command like this?”
“Two hundred years of polarization of forces and missions means they are naturally not going to work together. That’s what you’ve got to do. You’ve got about two minutes to figure out how you’re going to do it.”
* * * * *
Sixty-Five
As she broke from the woodline, Tallenaara saw the Greys rolling down the autocar easement towards the rear of her cabin and the exposed flank of the vehicles to the southwest. Shouldering her rifle, Tally moved to the east of the cabin and stood her ground. The narrow entrance to the cabin was flanked with rock formations on either side. If she could channelize them, stop them even for a moment, the attacking friendly vehicles could react and protect themselves, and turn back the Greys. The first Grey vehicle moved into the gap between the crags of sandstone and began a pivot turn. Tallenaara squeezed the trigger on the plasma rifle and dispatched the Grey tank with one round.
Another tank appeared behind the smoldering first victim and began to push it through the gap towards Tally. The wind freshened, and the smoke swirled just enough that she released a second round and tore the turret off the Grey vehicle.
A Grey tank appeared fifteen meters to the east of the crags through the heavy brush. Tally fired again, this tank taking three rounds before exploding. As she loaded a new magazine into the rifle, another tank tore out of the forest to the west of the crags, followed by another. And then a third.
Tally ran towards the lake, squeezing off several blind shots as she did. She fired a round across the formation of friendly tanks screaming across the lake. The presence of a plasma round got their attention. She turned back to the advancing Greys and engaged them as calmly as she’d been in training all those years ago. Center, breathe, squeeze. Each report of the rifle came as a surprise as she sighted the tanks and fired. Four of them turned their tubes in her direction and she felt her knees tremble.
“Da bo ti, cariad,” she whispered as light drops of rain began to fall. I love you. She saw the muzzles of all of the Grey tanks flash. She’d stood here with Mairin watching a sunset and holding the young girl tight against her chest. Their breasts touching, a playful grin on her lover’s face. She’d sworn the memory would stay with her. As death took her, Tallenaara felt no pain, remembering the warmth of her lover’s arms and the gentle touch of their lips.
My God, Richards thought as he watched the Greys execute whoever that had been on the shoreline. We’re about to lose this fight. He dropped a final salvo of bomblets into the Grey’s column and whipped the Hurricane around for a strafing run. The white clam-shelled cabin swung under his canopy as he turned into the Greys, descended to just above the water’s height, and began to fire.
“Lancer One, this is Looking Glass. You read me?” Garrett sounded as clear as if he was in the next room. How’d they done that?
“Roger, Looking Glass, copy you loud and very clear. Not sure how you did it.”
“Look up.” Richards looked straight up and saw the silhouette of a gunship skimming the underside of the low clouds some two thousand meters overhead. “I’ve got command of this attack. You and your Lancers regroup and prepare to cut off that avenue of approach to the north of the cabin. You know what I mean?”
“Roger, quite.” Richards swung around and initiated a recall of his squadron. “We’ll take care of the whole easement there. Bomb everything to the Stone Age nicely.”
Garrett interrupted. “Not the cabin. No collateral damage, Tony.”
Bloody hell? “Acknowledged, Looking Glass.”
“Just cut off that corridor, Lancer One. And do not hit that cabin. Priority One order.”
“On it, boss,” Richards quipped and dove with his flight of Hurricanes into the breech once again.
Trevayne watched Shields’ counterattack from his position and knew it was destined to fail unless he did something. The regiment had been decimated, down to thirty percent combat effectiveness. Vehicles listed and smoked in their defensive positions. None of that mattered now. Their brothers needed help, and a bunch of airplanes weren’t enough to get it done. Billy Mitchell was only half right, Trevayne thought, and wondered who Billy Mitchell was before chinning up the regimental frequency.
“Bullet elements, this is Bullet Nine. Follow me.”
Gliding down the slope, the regiment reached the water in less than a minute. The repulsors kicked in and kept the vehicle at a one-meter altitude above the glassy lake. Trevayne forced his stomach to calm down. Throwing up wouldn’t be the best idea. “Interface, as soon as you have a solution on the nearest Grey vehicle, target it. Gunner, take all firing commands from the Interface.”
Dossett looked over to him as he stood up in the hatch and charged the machine gun. “What are you going to do, Sergeant Major?”
“Same thing you’re going to do. Get up here and on that machine gun.” Trevayne grinned. “We’re gonna bust some caps, Dossett. Teach those little grey bastards not to fuck with us.”
* * * * *
Sixty-Six
Nather watched the countdown clock aboard the Ticonderoga ticking down to four minutes. The Grey platform’s previous engagement with the Ticonderoga had nearly destroyed the pride of the fleet. Her containment shields were only performing at forty-five percent and fires still raged on several decks. The guns were silent and useless, pointing aimlessly over the right rear of the platform as daylight approached. The litany of pre-combat checks did little to settle Nather the way routines seemed to settle everyone else. Maybe I’m finally getting too old for this shit.
“Sir, HICAP reports no visual on the Jack.”
What? “Orbital analysis? High, low, geo?”
“Nothing, sir. The Jack is gone.” The officer of the deck looked at Nather and smiled briefly before getting a third confirmation that the HICAP wasn’t delusional or compromised. “Sir, all forward scans are clear. Ground units in line of sight to us are reporting Grey vehicles are slagging in place.”
Nather leaned forward in his chair. “Get me in contact with all platforms. Confirm the situation and prepare to recover our troops.” For a moment, he did nothing but wonder what it meant. In no way is this over. The Greys are too resilient for that. The very real feeling that things were just getting started was enough to get Nather out of his chair and leading the recovery effort for everyone on Libretto, including his soldiers and airmen. We need every man and woman we can rescue.
“Any contact with that shuttle dispatched earlier?” Nather asked.
“Sir, I have positive lock on the shuttle near Libretto City. No damage.”
Nather smiled at the communications officer and leaned back in the chair. Don Garrett and Thom Munsen live to fight another day. Maybe we can win this war after all. “Status of troops?”
“Heavy losses across the board, sir.”
Nather sighed. “Saber Six?”
“Saber elements are less than sixty percent combat effective. I cannot raise their leader.”
Nather took a deep breath, held it for ten seconds, and let it go slowly. Have faith, he told himself. Looking down on the scarred, burning planet of Libretto, he tried not to imagine it being Earth. And failed. If we don’t figure out our ene
my, this fight will go all the way to our doorstep.
* * * * *
Sixty-Seven
Far-off explosions rumbled down the hillsides and across the lake. Mairin tore off her helmet and vaulted out of the hatch. Stomach clenching and her throat tingling as if her stomach would betray her, she leaped off the tank and blinked through heavy tears as she came upon Tallenaara’s body. Her lover lay in bloody, charred pieces on the ground. She raised her arms, silently giving her troopers the command to form a coil around her. The heavy tanks moved to their positions, gun tubes facing out, as Mairin fell to her knees and pressed her fingers deep into the dirt.
The ground trembled slightly as Mairin dug. The eyes of her troopers and officers watching her every move weighed heavy on her shoulders. Sweat ran into her eyes and mixed with hot, rolling tears. Her mind numbed and shocked at Tally’s violent death, Mairin closed her eyes and worked as if trying to remove the guilt. I was too late. If only I’d known. Hands aching and arms burning from the effort, she dug Tallenaara’s shallow grave. Only the roars of exocraft caught her attention. She watched them circling the slagged Greys waiting for any movement to pounce and deliver more ordnance on target. She wished she were there in a cockpit instead of here. Anywhere but here.
She buried Tallenaara above the shoreline, where the sandy soil was loose and dry. Her tears mixed with sweat and ran in rivers down her face, taking the grime of war with them. Too late. I was too late. I’m so sorry. Please. There was no comfort from the wind. Mairin stared into the hole she’d dug. Cheeks burning with shame, she wanted to be there instead of Tally. Her lover deserved so much better. So much more. Oh god, Tally.
She took too long, much too long, to gather up her lover’s remains and gently place them into the grave. Dragging Tallenaara’s dismembered body racked Mairin’s body. “Tally,” she said over and over again. She laid Tallenaara out in the grave and gently reached in to caress the cold, gray flesh of her lover’s peaceful face. Mairin spoke softly, the wind carrying her words no farther than the graveside.
The tattered ceremonial dress Tallenaara wore became a shroud. Mairin knelt at the side of the grave and wanted to pray. But to whom? Who could possibly take away this pain?
A cool drop of rain fell from the clouds, joined by another, and then many more until Mairin couldn’t see the ridges and the lake no longer mirrored itself against the sky. Rain fell, and her memories swirled like windblown pictures. Fleeting, vivid moments in time that she would never have again. Water ran down her neck, soaking her jumpsuit thoroughly, like the night she’d gone home with Tally for the first time. To this place. To this forever sacred place.
Ulson called to her, something about a counterattack. Artillery started to fall to the west. The magtanks spooled their engines, and two of them fired in quick succession. The battle wasn’t over. Mairin looked at the grave and felt her chest hitch as the tightness in her throat gathered. She covered her lover’s shallow grave with sandy soil, oblivious to the physical pain as she opened sores on her palms.
Her task was done. She looked at the oblong mound and swore she would make it better. She would return to their home and make it better. Leaving now did not feel right, turning away without saying something more. She could not, would not, say goodbye. She wouldn’t pray over Tallenaara either. Eyes closed, she raised her chin to the rain. Always the rain. She smiled through her tears.
“I love you, Tallenaara. Every day, I will pray for rain.”
* * * * *
Sixty-Eight
Three months later…
Inside the shattered dome of Libretto City there were three levels of security, each more stringent than the first. Mairin got out of the autocar at the second checkpoint, slung her combat rucksack over her shoulders, and carried her duffle bags in both hands to the third checkpoint, eight hundred meters inside the final ring. The dome was coming down, being removed now that the great illusion of the planet was sullied by the Grey attack. There was no point in doming the city anymore. The Greys knew where it was, and should they return, they could wipe it off the face of the planet in a matter of minutes. Crews of all species worked to clear debris continuously. The shattered remains of the hotel where Mairin had spent her first nights still remained, though standing only to the sixth floor in most places, the higher floors now strewn in all directions. The entertainment district still smoldered in places more than three months after the attack that killed Andrew Cartner.
Her cavalry troop remained out in the northern continent more than four thousand kilometers to the west. The oil-pumping network was more complicated than anyone had known, and after following the destroyed pipeline, all hell broke loose. Earth’s closest allies had kept a vital secret. Something that Earth needed almost as badly as the Greys, even as they moved past fossil fuel dependency. Humans always wanted more.
The Styrahi and the humans were now on tenuous ground. The oily secrets of Libretto were known to the galaxy, and the Greys were nowhere to be seen. The promise of oil, the driver of Earth’s history, brought new excursions into deep space. The Greys were going to come back, of that Mairin was certain. Yet, she’d been recalled into the smoldering city in the midst of their investigations for a reason no one seemed able to state.
As she approached the final checkpoint to the Terran Defense Force headquarters, the level of security present caught her attention. Armed guards patrolled inside a perimeter of concertina wire more than three meters tall. Several cy-dogs patrolled as well, robotic eyes scanning in all areas of the spectrum. At the checkpoint, Mairin dropped her bags and presented her identification.
“Captain Mairin Shields?” the guard asked.
“That’s me.”
The guard’s pistol came up and pointed at her chest. “Ma’am, you are under arrest—”
Mairin blinked and brought her arms up showing empty palms. “I have orders to report to the commanding general.”
“Under Article Thirty-Two of the Reformed Code of Military Justice, you are placed under arrest until such time as a hearing can be convened in your legal matters.”
“Legal matters?” Mairin shook her head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about!” Try as she might, her imprint said nothing except to be calm, that things would sort themselves out. “Take me to the commanding general, Sergeant.”
The guard shook his head and kept his weapon trained to her chest. His eyes scanned across retinal displays. “A detachment is on the way to collect you, Captain Shields. If you run, I am instructed to shoot to kill. Do you understand?”
Fucking MPs, Mairin thought. “You can put the gun down, Sergeant. I’m unarmed and no threat to you.”
The sergeant smiled with the corner of his mouth. “Anyone suspected of murdering a superior officer is hardly someone I’d trust, Captain.”
So that’s what this is about. Shit. Mairin shook her head. “Not a superior officer, Sergeant. Merely a higher-ranking one who deserted his regiment in the face of the enemy. I’d like to think, given the circumstances, that you would consider doing the same thing.”
The reaction force arrived with a half-dozen vehicles. A dozen armed men surrounded Mairin in a matter of seconds. She kept her eyes on the guard she’d first spoken to. His eyes never left hers, but he nodded slightly before lowering his weapon and directing the guard force to take Mairin away. A large man put Mairin in handcuffs and sat her in the transport vehicle. Mairin let her anger boil up, even as it threatened to bring tears to her eyes. They want blood, do they? Mairin sat with her hands in her lap, waiting, as the vehicle drove to the converted barracks serving as the TDF headquarters on Libretto. The flags of a dozen species flew over the building, though all Mairin saw in any direction were humans. Many of them would be staring when she exited the transport. Some would whisper about her, like in the halls of Eden Academy.
This is different, Mairin, she thought. This time, what they’re going to say is partially true. You killed a higher ranking officer for desertion and bei
ng drunk on duty. You were justified, and no military court in their right mind would find you guilty. She took a breath and held it, letting it out as she wondered if she was a scapegoat. The transport stopped, and Mairin stepped out with as much dignity as she could muster with her wrists bound in front of her. There were plenty of stares as she walked quickly, head up and shoulders back, through the entrance to TDF headquarters. After a few turns past disjointed and spastic staff sections working to extend the reach of the commander, Mairin stepped into a dark, cool room. As her eyes adjusted, there was a single chair in the center of the room facing a raised dais with six chairs.
This would be what a court-martial feels like, she thought with gallows humor. If they kick me out, maybe I can retake the Civil Consideration examination.
A short, thin lieutenant with dark skin walked towards her. His arms hardly moved as he walked and when he spoke, Mairin strained to hear him. “Ma’am, please have a seat. The Council of Colonels will begin shortly.”
“This isn’t a court martial?”
The lieutenant looked briefly at her and then away again. “No, ma’am,” he slunk away quietly, so much that the heavy wooden door hardly made a sound as he walked out behind Mairin. The chair looked hard and unforgiving. There was no point in sitting down before the proceedings began. Mairin closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Whatever was coming would never be as hard as where she’d been. What she’d seen.
Tally firing that damned plasma rifle and disappearing in a cloud of red mist. Her burial mask peaceful and serene while Mairin collected appendages and pieces to bury.
No court will ever compare, Mairin. Aware that she was flushed and angry, Mairin let the emotion wash over her. If they want to question her and her actions, fine. The truth wasn’t going to set her free. It’s all a show, Mairin sighed to herself. A door behind the dais opened and Mairin snapped to the position of attention.
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