Though the Stars Fall (United Humanity Marine Corps Book 1)

by Bill Roberts

  “Wait, you already coded my DNA? Captain Roberts only took the DNA sample like fifteen minutes ago? And how can microscopic robots hold all this information?” I say this almost before I realize the thought. Technology shock again. Mystical waters would have been less shocking.

  Morton mutters something again. He looks at me and continues, “Yes, we can now code a person’s DNA in about ten minutes. As to your second question the nanites network think. Individually, they would be useless, but together they have the computing power to store and use all of this information.” He pauses and raises his eyebrows inviting further questions. I shake my head and he says, “Like I said I am going to be giving you a sedative. There is an adjustment period for both your body and the nanites and it is best to sleep through it.” He pauses again and then simply asks “Are you ready?”

  I had already committed. Once the decision is made there is no sense rehashing it. So I respond with a firm: “Yes, I’m ready.”

  Morton gives an equally firm “Good.” He opens the door and gestures to someone outside. After a few moments Captain Roberts wheels a cart in that holds a large IV bag filled with a milky substance. She says, “That was quick.” She looks at Commander Morton. “I told you he was clever.” She looks back at me. “Alright it’s time for the one needle I told you about. I have to stick you for the IV. But before I get started I recommend you take your boots off and lay down.” I follow her directions and she quickly and expertly inserts the IV needle and tapes it down. She reaches under the table and pulls out a blanket and spreads it over me.

  Commander Morton speaks. “All right, just relax.” He picks up the bag and hooks it up to the IV. He releases the stopper and says “Please count backward from twenty.” I make it to seventeen before I am shrouded in the peaceful oblivion of a drug induced sleep.

  CHAPTER 7

  Debriefing

  The kiss had started fierce and desperate and we had clung to each other tightly. But now it is a softer thing, done in a gentle embrace. The terror that Svetlana had felt at the thought of losing me replaced with the simple joy of resting comfortably in my arms. As our lips part we open our eyes. Her dark eyes shine like sapphires. She takes a deep breath and quietly says, “When your Kodiak went down and vented like that I thought for sure I had lost you. It felt like my heart shattered.” She hugs me closer and rests her head on my chest. I stroke her hair and she continues, her Russian accent lilting through her words. “And the whole time I could not let it show. I had to take command and pretend like it did not matter to me.” She kisses me quickly and gently then lays her head back upon me. “I know we have to hide this to be together. But today it was almost too much.”

  I keep stroking her hair as I reply. “I’m sorry my love. I’m sorry for everything.”

  Svetlana pulls her head back and looks at me. I am again wrenched by her beauty. “Shawn, you have nothing to apologize for. Every day I am grateful to be your lover. Even though we hide it from everyone, I know and that is enough for me.” She lays her head against me and sighs contentedly. “I am just happy you are alive and I am with you right now.”

  I hold her for a moment longer. I would love to spend a few hours alone with her, but there are things to do and an image to maintain. I take a deep breath and break the embrace. “We have to get back.”

  “I know,” she says. “This was not responsible coming here like this, but I needed it very much.” We compose ourselves and fix our faces with professional masks. I open the hatch and we step in to the passageway. Just a CO and his XO, business concluded. I head down the passageway and Svetlana follows in the age old military fashion of: in step, one pace behind, and one pace to the left.

  As we enter the COC I pause and survey the area. I notice that all of the principal staff members are present. They are joined by the subordinate commanders of the battalion. These consist of the four Kodiak company commanders, the headquarters company commander, and the scout platoon commander. All of them are familiar faces from the pre-drop briefing this morning except for the scout platoon commander. The new commander is Chief Warrant Officer 3 Andre Dubois, the next senior Marine in the platoon after Lieutenant Kim. He will replace Kim until we find a commissioned officer to take the job permanently. They are gathered around the display pointing things out to the Master Guns, finishing up the video presentation for the debrief. Svetlana and I head over to the group and we all exchange professional greetings. Despite the formality of the exchanges I feel warmth and grief beneath the surface. After the greetings I look at Dubois and say: “I’m sorry about Kwan, Gunner.”

  He grimaces and replies with a Gallic patois: “Thank you, Sir. She had a heart of fire and will be missed by the platoon.”

  I look over at the Bravo Company Commander, Captain Archibald Harkness. His pale face is framed by dirty blonde hair and strong features. It is also under tight control. Gunner Simms was popular everywhere in the Battalion, but nowhere more so than his parent company. I say: “Jeremy was a good man. I’m sorry.” Harkness simply nods back. There is really nothing you can say that is going to make it better.

  Captain William Hildebrandt, the FSO, speaks up: “And we’re all sorry about Gunner Wright, Sir. We all know he was as much your friend as he was your master gunner.”

  “Thanks, Bill,” I reply. The sadness in the room is real. The warm moments spent with Svetlana did a lot to help me temper it, but it is still there. We will all have to face it, but there will be time to do that later, right now I have a debrief to prepare for. I turn to Bennie and ask: “How’s the recording coming?”

  Bennie replies in his crisp baritone: “Brilliant Sir, we’re almost done here. The debrief is scheduled,” he pronounces it sheduled, “for eighteen hundred.” I look at the clock on the nearest CoC wall and see that eighteen hundred is about forty minutes from now. Bennie arches one of his bushy brows and asks: “Would you like to begin your review now?”

  “Absolutely,” I say. Bennie turns towards the 3-D display and begins fiddling with the controls. He backs up the video to the point in time when we begin our drop and starts to play back the recording of the battle. He points out various aspects of the fight as he moves through the recording. A few of the other Marines also chime in on various points as the recording plays out. I do not pay the strictest attention to what they are saying. I was there, and except for the ambush this was a very straightforward fight. Mostly I just bask in the excellence of my Marines. They are professional, thoughtful, and work with a crisp precision. I had long ago weeded out the bureaucrats and careerists that are all too prevalent in military service.

  When the recording reaches the ambush Bennie reaches out and pauses the recording. He turns and looks at me seriously. “Sir, I know it isn’t really proper to thank a CO, but your instant reaction saved a lot of us.” The Marines around the display make various low sounds of assent. “I just wanted to thank you. For all of us.” He holds his hand out to me through the display.

  I am deeply embarrassed. He is right; a subordinate thanking a CO is something I discourage strongly. I am their commander, and I am just doing my duty. Thanks have nothing to do with it. Besides, if any of them had been in my position they would have done the same thing. I do not doubt that for a second. As I shake his hand I say as much: “There is no need to thank me. I was just in the right spot at the right time. Any of you would have done the same had our positions been reversed.” I see pride in some faces around the display, a shadow of doubt in others. I ignore the doubt. I kn0w I am right.

  Bennie smiles and responds: “Right, right, we’re all the dog’s bollocks. But it was still you that cocked up the Grotokai ambush, Sir, so thank you.” Before I can respond he turns to the display and resumes the playback of the battle. I resist the urge to whack him on top of the head and I refocus on the battle recording. I need to pay closer attention now. I want to verify my assessment of how the Grotokai set up their ambush. I
also want to see how the rest of my Marines handle the ambush. As the ambush unfolds in the playback I watch with curious detachment as my Kodiak charges towards the Grotokai. I see that I had fought just long enough to buy time for my Marines to react before my Kodiak vents and shuts down. Less than a second after I get knocked out the Kodiaks on the ridge have completely turned about and begun to charge down the ridge firing towards the Grotokai behind them. Without the ability to shoot the Kodiaks in the back the Grotokai have no chance. The fight is horribly one sided. That said, I know we will lose some vehicles and I have to hide a wince every time I see a Kodiak go down. Gunner Wright’s Kodiak is the first one to fall and as it goes up in a pillar of flame I again lament his loss. The four Kodiaks in Bravo Company that got knocked out all happen within seconds of each other about half-way through the counterattack. I then begin looking for Lieutenant Kim’s Cougar. As I watch the battalion crush the enemy ambush I see her firing away from the east, her charging Cougar absolutely fine. Then it happens. An explosion blossoms on the front of her machine and it spins like a top as it crashes to the ground. Seconds later last of the Grotokai get wiped out. A few more seconds and Kim would be standing around this display instead of Dubois. I curse war for the fickle bitch that she is.

  I can see in the playback that the ambush was very carefully planned and prepared for. They picked a spot for their base that invited us to set up a support by fire on the ridge. I examine the hole in the ground that the Grotokai came out of. It is very deep. They must have dug a tunnel from the base underneath the ridge and then used explosives to open a hole they could quickly pour through. That took a lot of preparation. The ambush is completely unprecedented in our dealings with the Grotokai. They had the imagination of a rock, and their idea of preparation consisted of loading their weapon before firing it … usually. I pause the playback and look over at Sunari: “Deuce, what are your thoughts on the ambush?”

  I can tell by the looks on the faces around the table that everyone else is thinking the same thing. Without hesitation Sunari replies: “The Tangul, Sir. Somebody from their External Security Apparatus told the Grotokai what to do and then left.”

  We have been unable to prove it, but the United Humanity Government and its allies know the Tangul Empire, through its External Security Apparatus, have been behind the pirate attacks against the Elowynn Harmony. The Tangul Empire covers a large chunk of the Galaxy. A hugely arrogant species, the Tangul view all other life-forms as lesser beings, whether they are space-faring sentients or not. We all expect to go to war against them sooner or later, but for now the Tangul settle for fighting a proxy war through hiring pirates as mercenaries. Diplomatically and politically we will not, can not, do anything about it until we can prove the Tangul are hiring and directing the pirates. So for now we simply settle for killing their pirate proxies. I look squarely at Sunari and say: “I agree. Let’s make sure we cover that in the intelligence portion of the debriefing.”

  “Aye Aye, Sir,” she replies.

  I turn to Bennie: “All right Three, let’s pick it back up.”

  Bennie nods and presses play on the playback. Now that the ambush is over I want to see how my battalion reacts to not having me at the helm. After the battalion kills the last Grotokai the Kodiaks turn around and quickly resume their support by fire position on the ridge while the five remaining Cougars of the Scout Platoon sweep through the enemy ambush site to make sure none of the Grotokai are still alive. I notice that after they resume their position on the ridge my Marines stay exposed longer and fire much faster than they had before the ambush. I could comment on it, but I decide not to. Rage has its place on the battlefield. It could get you out of tight spots as long as you controlled it. While their fury at losing fellow Marines had caused them to lose their cool a bit, they did not commit any serious errors. The recording continues and 2nd Marines’ assault pushes through the enemy compound. I see my battalion shift fire smoothly until the compound is fully invested with Marines at which point the battalion ceases their fire and maintains a watchful vigilance. The recording finishes up with the Oxes pulling everyone out in the extraction. Overall an excellent performance.

  The review complete I now need to make some comments. I look around at my staff and subordinate commanders. After I see I have their attention I say: “You all reacted very well to the ambush. The enemy prepared it perfectly and executed it at the worst possible time for us. Many units wouldn’t have done nearly as well as you did. I’m especially impressed with how quickly you returned to the support by fire after defeating the ambush. You maintained focus on your mission despite losses and a shakeup in the command structure.” I look squarely at Svetlana. “XO, I know I have your leadership to thank for that.”

  Because of our clandestine relationship I hated to single her out for praise. However, in this case, it is the plain and simple truth. Succession of command is drilled into us. We brief it before every operation to make sure it is clear and understood. We pay such close attention to it because it is important. Commanders are no more immune to enemy fire than anyone else. Losing a commander in the middle of a fight could be catastrophic if the next person in succession does not quickly jump in and firmly take control. The recording clearly indicates that Svetlana had done so flawlessly. She truly deserves the praise.

  “Thank you, Sir,” she replies.

  I continue: “I really have nothing more to add. Good work everyone.” I look at the clock on the wall of the COC. “We have about ten minutes until the debrief starts. Head on into the briefing room.” The group responds with a collection of ‘Aye Aye, Sirs’ and breaks up. After a few moments I am alone at the display with Svetlana and Bennie. I gesture towards the door and ask: “Shall we head over together?”

  Bennie smiles, as usual, and says: “That would be brilliant, Sir.”

  Svetlana responds with her far more reserved: “Of course, Sir.”

  Svetlana, Bennie, and I head for the hatch and begin to make our way through the maze of passageways leading from the CoC to the briefing room. We walk through the ship in companionable silence. The three of us have been together a long time. While the exact nature of my relationship with Svetlana is secret, publicly she is also part of my circle of friends. Like my other friends aboard, Svetlana has been with the Stern since the beginning. Unlike the others, however, she had no prior experience in the military. After the Synti invasion she joined the new United Humanity Marine Corps as a commissioned officer. Her first job in 2nd Heavy Armored had been as a second lieutenant platoon commander in Bravo Company. Over the decades she worked her way up through the ranks and billets and became my XO about ten years ago.

  After a bit of walking we find ourselves alone and Bennie speaks quietly. “I know today was a bit rough, but you two need to be more careful. That private conference you shared was a tad excessive.”

  I am thunderstruck. I do not let it show. I quietly reply: “Excuse me?”

  “Look, the Marines love you two. You are without a doubt one of the best command teams in the whole bloody Corps. The rumors about you are quiet and respectful. That is because you two are always so careful and professional. The boys and girls do not know anything, so they chat a little bit, but essentially do not care. Best to keep it that way. I don’t need my friends getting in a spot of trouble because they happen to be romantically involved.”

  A bomb would have been less jarring than that last sentence. Bennie knows? Svetlana and I share a quick glance. I contain the panic welling up within me. We have always been so careful, so meticulous. If Bennie knows, and his quiet warning clearly implies he does, I imagine that others certainly suspect. However, I have never noted anyone being uncomfortable in mine and Svetlana’s presence. I have never heard a whisper of anything. We are safe. We have to be. The military police are not on their way to arrest me. However, I must do my best to continue the subterfuge. I cannot take any chances. Not with her. I decide I have to
say something to Bennie.

  Before I can Svetlana speaks softly. “Thank you Benedict. We will be extremely cautious for the foreseeable future.”

  I would not have responded as such. I would have politely told him he was wrong about us. Why would Svetlana say that? She is putting our lives in Bennie’s hands. I look closely at my old friend. What the hell am I thinking? Our lives had been in Bennie’s hands times beyond counting. Bennie would die before he would betray us, just as we would die before we betrayed him. I realize Svetlana has done the right thing. If we cannot trust Bennie, we cannot trust anyone. That being said, there is another potential problem. I say: “Bennie, you are a great friend, but I have to ask, are you okay with this?”

  He laughs: “Mate, if I wasn’t fine with this I would have said something a long time ago.”

  Long time ago? Jesus. I ask: “How long have you known?”

  He shrugs and replies: “About the last year or so.”