We Are The Wolf: Wolfpack Book 1

by Toby Neighbors

  "What a heart-warming memory," Staff Sergeant Mercer said, in her usual deadpan tone of voice.

  "You were a bully, Chavez!" Butler said. "Nothing more than a thug till EsDef pulled your ass out of the gutter."

  "Maybe so, but I didn't take no shit," Chavez said from the front of the column. He turned his head and added softly, "Not from anybody."

  Dean realized in that moment what the problem was with Chavez. And he also realized that Major Gheridelli had seen it from the start. Chavez's beef with Dean wasn't over his inexperience or his ability to lead. The quarrelsome corporal saw his lieutenant the same way he saw the people his mother worked for. She probably came home exhausted every night, barely able to afford food for her son, while the people she worked for had so much they were giving it away. He wasn't jealous of Dean, he was just angry in general.

  "What about your father?" Dean asked.

  "I never knew him," Chavez said. "He ran out on my moms before I was born. If I ever meet the bastard I'll knock his teeth out for what he did to us."

  "My turn!" McCal said in an excited voice. "Favorite memory growing up has to be going to the college football games with my friends. Go Sooners!”

  She went on but Dean wasn't listening. He activated the audio recording feature in his TCU so that he wouldn't miss something important in the conversations, but his mind was still on Chavez. Dean didn't think it would be possible to convince the headstrong HA specialist that Dean wasn't like those other kids he'd known, or that the fault for his struggles as a child didn't fall on Dean's shoulders. Instead, he had to show Chavez that he wasn't stuck, that he could make a better life for himself if he was willing to do the work. The world wasn't fair, but it wasn't impossible to make changes for the better, either. In fact, there was more opportunity now than at any other point in the history of humanity.

  Major Gheridelli had said that Chavez was like a dog on a chain, resentful of the world beyond his reach. All Dean had to do was unlock the chain.

  Chapter 30

  Later that afternoon they came to a bluff. Dean ordered the HA specialists out of their armor. Buwana used her jet pack to drop slowly to the ground, where she stood guard over the HA armor. Dean knew that regulations required the platoon to remain in battle armor for the entire exercise, but he saw no need to force his HA specialists to climb down the bluff in armor that weighed as much or more than the troopers themselves.

  The HA specialists repelled down the bluff and then the rest of the platoon followed. Dean was the slowest. He had been the first to sled down the mountain in his own training exercise months ago, but repelling down the bluff was a different matter entirely. Dean wasn't afraid of heights, but he never felt comfortable in repelling gear. He made his way down carefully, enduring the jokes of his platoon at his shakiness in silence.

  Once the platoon was on the ground again they set off, blazing a trail through the jungle on their way to the end point. Later that night Dean and Chavez were on watch again. The lieutenant opened a private channel to the HA specialist.

  "I appreciate you sharing about your childhood earlier, Corporal," Dean said.

  "Just following orders," Chavez said, although Dean knew he didn't mean it. "I didn't know I had a choice."

  "You always have a choice," Dean said. "I should think you would know that by now. You make choices almost daily to undermine my leadership."

  "I follow orders," Chavez said in a sullen tone. It was his standard argument whenever he was questioned about his behavior.

  "Of course you do, because you're smart," Dean said. "I'm just surprised that you're okay with settling."

  "Settling?"

  "You know what I mean - half-assing it. Doing just enough to get by, or, in regard to me, just enough to stay on the safe side of following orders."

  "I don't know what you're talking about, man," Chavez said in a snide tone of voice.

  Dean let the lapse in military discipline slide. He wasn't trying to make Chavez defensive or get him into trouble. In fact, he was hoping he would be able to do just the opposite.

  "I just thought that after your story today you would have seen the flaw in your behavior. I mean, your mother is the perfect example."

  "Don't be talking about my moms," Chavez warned.

  "Oh, I'm sure she was a saint. I would never say anything to disparage her. Perhaps her opportunities were limited. I just don't understand why you act as if yours are."

  "Man, I don't know what the hell you're talking about."

  "I'm talking about the chip on your shoulder," Dean said. He had his back to Chavez who had turned to face his lieutenant. Dean watched him on the video feed that played on his TCU visor. "You act like you're the victim and that you refuse to be cowed, but in reality, you're just playing it safe."

  "You're full of shit, sir."

  "No, I'm not, and you know it."

  "I ain't got no choices, yo. I'm a grunt. I do what pissant rich boys like you say or I get thrown in the brig."

  Dean was surprised at how the tough-guy vocabulary of Chavez's youth was suddenly resurfacing. There was a note of desperation in the big HA's tone, too. Dean wanted to be delicate, but he didn't want to waste the opportunity that had suddenly appeared. It seemed fragile, like a butterfly landing on his shoulder. Dean knew if he made one wrong move his opportunity to help Chavez would flutter out of reach.

  "You accepted the enlistment for EsDef. Wasn't that a choice you made?”

  "It wasn't a choice, it was my only way out of the streets."

  "And yet it was a choice. And every day you make choices, to hone your craft, to obey orders, to be a good friend and squad mate. Why is it so hard for you to realize that you have a choice. You don't have to live in another man's world. You don't have to be the impoverished son of a housemaid. You can build a business, travel the world, settle a colony on a planet far away. The choices are endless."

  "You make it sound so easy. That's the difference between us. You have choices, all you rich kids with your fat cat fathers and trophy wife mothers pulling strings for you. The rest of us had to learn to survive in the real world. We ain't got no more choices than a piece of garbage thrown into the street. We can survive or be swept away, that's it, jeffe."

  "And you're sure of that?" Dean asked.

  "It's all I've ever known, yo."

  "But not anymore. Not since you joined EsDef. Now you have more choices than you could imagine. And not just choices, you have friends. You know people who can speak on your behalf. You have resources at your disposal. The money that racks up in your salary account while we're on this next tour is more than enough to purchase a business franchise, or make the down payment on a house, or pay for a ticket to a colony world. You could go to college on the EsDef Life Enrichment program even while we're deployed. Most of it you can do online, if you choose to do the work. I know you're not afraid of hard work. So what I can't figure is why you don't make good choices. Why do you tread water when you could be making a better life for yourself."

  "Don't kid yourself, LT. We're all just cannon fodder. Force Recon ain't the tip of the spear. We're just expendable grunts thrown between the monsters in the dark and the people who matter."

  Chavez turned away, his shoulders slumped. Dean wasn't sure if he was sullen and despondent, or simply tired. But he felt like he had taken a positive first step. And he felt really good about the progress he was making.

  After a restful night the platoon set out again, the terrain in front of them was mountainous and rugged. Their progress was slow, but Dean took the lead, following a winding path until he came to a plateau that overlooked the jungle.

  "Platoon halt, we're done for the day," Dean said.

  "What? Why?" Mercer asked.

  "Because," Dean explained. "I have a surprise for all of you. Set up camp. We're going to enjoy the afternoon."

  There was a breeze on the high plateau, and a spring from somewhere higher up the mountain trickled down into a steady stream th
at ran along the side of the flat, open space before dropping off in a glistening waterfall. Dean dug into his pack, removing the foam chilled container that held four dozen hotdogs. He had buns as well, and packets of preassembled s'mores.

  "What is all this?" Cox said in a loud voice. "We cooking out tonight, LT?"

  "That's right. This exercise is about more than just honing our skills. I wanted to take a moment and tell each of you how lucky I am to have you in my platoon."

  "We're the lucky ones," Adkins said.

  "Why the generosity?" Buwana asked.

  "Well, my favorite memory growing up was going camping with my family. We lived a simple life. I never went without, but there wasn't a whole lot of money for extra things either. Every year my parents took time off work, but we didn't have the money to go on lavish vacations. Instead we went camping. We pitched some tents in the forest, although it was never as spectacular as this. We built things from fallen limbs, went fishing and swimming, or just exploring the woods around our campsite. And we would cook hotdogs over the campfire. It was fun and I wanted to share it with you."

  Dean could see Chavez staring at him. The normally loud, gregarious corporal had been much more subdued throughout the day. Dean had no way of knowing if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Nowhere in his leadership classes had he been taught to help his troops grow emotionally, but something was going on in Chavez's head. He just hoped the big HA specialist would let him in on what he was thinking at some point.

  It didn't take long to set up camp. There were no tents, just sentry positions and watch rotations. Most of the platoon set up little shelters using the large elephant ear leaves that grew on the mountainside. The shelters were just to block the sun while they lounged on the spongy ground, enjoying the cool breeze and the magnificent view. From the plateau they could see a trail that led out of the mountain range and into the forest below. It wouldn't take them much longer to reach LZ Bravo, and then they could return to civilization where Dean had promised to give the platoon nearly a week's liberty before they had to report to the Valkyrie for their off world tour.

  "You're making us hotdogs?" Mercer was puzzled. "You had to leave out what? Ammunition? Safety equipment? Maybe field rations?"

  "Just some creative packing," Dean said. "No room for drinks though. Not that I wanted to carry the extra weight through the jungle anyway."

  "Why?" Mercer said in a quiet tone. "It's not really protocol."

  "No, it isn't. And perhaps after our tour off world such gestures won't be necessary to bond us together. But I thought that perhaps a shared happy experience would do a lot for morale. We're going to be gone for a long time and when we're out there on some distant colony world, we'll only have each other to watch our backs. It can't hurt to remember that we're human beings too."

  "But you may have to send us into harm’s way," Mercer said with a frown. "A platoon commander has to be able to make the hard decisions."

  "I know," Dean said. "And I will, but if that day comes, I want to know that there were good moments in our lives. I want to know that I contributed to the good times, not just the hard times. Not if I have to see men under my command die. It's my way, Staff Sergeant. I know I'm skirting the line on this one, but I need this. And I think the others do too."

  "Alright," the by-the-book sergeant said. "I get it. I just hope you're right."

  "Me too," Dean said. "Me too."

  Chapter 31

  By the time they reached their destination, Dean felt the platoon was in as good a shape as it could be in. Chavez was still antagonistic, but Dean sensed that he was opening up to the ideas that they had talked about. It would only take a little taste of freedom, and Chavez would be forever changed. The HA corporal might still resent Dean, there was no guarantee that Chavez wouldn't continue to resist and undermine the young lieutenant, but Dean was determined to do all he could to ensure that his platoon not only functioned at the highest level, but that each individual grew and developed to their highest potential.

  While the specialists spent a week off, Dean spent a week filing reports. He had to debrief after his off-site field exercise, plus file performance reports on each member of his squad. He didn't enjoy the paperwork, of which there seemed no end for an officer, but he guessed it was the price he had to pay to be in Force Recon.

  The hardest part of his last week on Earth was the regulation not to contact his parents and loved ones. He knew it was better if they didn't know the specifics of his military life, it would only make them worry more. And yet, he couldn't help but wish that he could share all the things he loved about EsDef with them. He thought of Miranda too. His mind drifted with images of her in the yellow and white bikini she liked to wear when they went to the beach. With her long, blond hair pulled back into a ponytail and her blue eyes dazzling. A part of him ached for her in a way he'd never experienced before. He still chided himself for getting too close, for caring too much, but he couldn't change his feelings. Spending time with the vibrant young beauty had been an incredibly bright spot in his long months of training. The memory of her, he hoped, would warm him through the long tour off world, as well.

  Five days before they were scheduled to deploy, Dean was taken up to the EsDef Valkyrie. The ship was built in the shape of a double helix, constantly rotating to mimic gravity and with a massive warp drive engine that enabled the ship to cross the vast distances between star systems in days, rather than years. Dean was taken up in a cargo vessel, one of many such ships built to ferry goods to and from the surface of a planet to ships in orbit. When Dean disembarked he was met by Lieutenant Wilson, a short woman with a pleasant face but tired eyes. She wore the silky black uniform of the EsDef naval officers and gave Dean a tour as she led him to the section of the ship that would be his home for the next two years.

  “Officers' mess will be a bit of a hike," she said. "Your platoon will eat in the enlisted mess, but you'll be expected to join the VA and the rest of the ship's senior officers in the ward room."

  Dean felt out of place. He was barely an adult, not even old enough to drink, and yet he was suddenly considered a senior officer as leader of the Force Recon platoon on an interstellar ship. The Valkyrie couldn't be considered a warship in the truest sense, although it did have kinetic warheads that could be launched into a world. The mass dense warheads could match the destructive power of a nuclear bomb, but without the resulting radiation fallout that would leave a world tainted for centuries. EsDef ships had originally been built for ship to ship warfare, but the other space-faring species built ships that were too advanced for EsDef to engage them in space battle. The human race was by far the most militant, with weapons that the other races hadn't even dreamed of, but the EsDef ships simply couldn't match the speed or maneuverability of the other races' vessels.

  "We have a small company of Operators on board. They mostly ferry goods from ship to ship, or occasionally to the colony planets. They're berthed in section A. Your platoon will be in section B. Ship's maintenance is in D, and officers in C. Most platoon leaders prefer to be with their troops, but we can transfer you to the officers’ section if you prefer."

  "No, I'll say in section B. Thank you."

  The ship felt like a long corridor, with rooms on either side of the wide hallway. Most of the rooms were clearly marked as storage, with everything from emergency rations to ship supplies marked clearly on the LED room labels. Dean learned that the Operators and ship officers were on the primary branch of entwined, spiral arms that made up the ship. There were low-G access corridors that linked the double helix arms of the ship. Force Recon and ship maintenance personnel were located in the secondary branch, where Dean was currently being escorted to his berth.

  Dean's private quarters were small, but neatly organized. He had the luxury of a private room, his own bathroom, and a small office. The twelve members of his platoon would share six other rooms, with two bathrooms between them. There was a training room, with the same state-of-the-a
rt exercise and weight training equipment Dean had used in OTA. There was also a "Ready Room" where armor, weapons, and gear would be stowed. It had work benches, tools, and space for the platoon to prepare for their off ship operations.

  At the end of the long corridor was a double-sized room that stretched from one side of the corridor to the other. It was the Recreation Education and Community area, with various gaming consoles, VR simulators, vid screens, computer stations, snack dispensaries, and lounge areas. But the most impressive thing about the REC space were the massive windows that were built like an inverted cone. The transparent polymer substance was crystal clear and gave Dean a forward view into space. It was the one place on board that revealed just how much movement was really taking place on the ship. He could see the earth, moon, space stations, and even other ships, all rotating around the transparent nose cone of the ship.

  "You'll spend a lot of time here, I suppose," Wilson said. "I'm the maintenance officer and we have access to this REC area as well, but most of my team stay near the engines. Have you ever seen a fusion reactor, Lieutenant?"

  "No," Dean said.

  "I'll have to show you sometime," she said. "These ships are so well engineered that my maintenance crew are little more than janitors. Each system has backups for the backups, so we're a little redundant, but no ship in the fleet goes anywhere without a maintenance crew."

  "Well, I'll sleep better knowing you're on board no matter how advanced the emergency systems."

  The lieutenant smiled. She was older than Dean by at least ten years, but she seemed to light up at his compliment.

  "Let me show you the training rooms and briefing theater," she said.

  The platoon had a room dedicated to training simulations. Dean's TCU could link into the room's controls, as well as convert to a fully immersive simulation, but the other troops would wear training helmets that were specialty specific. HA could train with their utility cannons, and FA could operate VR drones with programs that mimicked real colony world conditions. Dean could even lead the entire platoon through VR training exercises together, mimicking movement, threat analysis, search and rescue, exploration, and even combat.