by A P Heath
His eyes moved in their sockets as his mind prepared the memories and put them into a proper description.
“They were not invulnerable to our ammunition sir, however…” He faltered.
“Yes Lieutenant?” DeMarchek prompted. He could see the discomfort with the retelling painted clear across Cassini’s features.
“Well it just didn’t work sir.” He continued, looking unhappy at his own feeble description.
“I personally emptied a full magazine into two targets and I would judge it reduced their combat effectiveness by a maximum of five percent.”
“Five percent you say?”
“If that, sir.”
The Lieutenant had regained some control of his face, returning his expression to one he felt more suited the grandeur of this interview.
“Continue, Lieutenant.”
Aitkin took a breath.
“The enemy excelled in hand to hand combat sir. Not through any martial skills especially, but simply through overwhelming strength and apparent resistance to wounding.”
DeMarchek saw the slight movement in Cassini’s bound shoulder. Clearly the memory brought back a twinge of pain from the injuries he’d sustained.
“And is there anything else useful you can provide?”
“Their weapons were of an unknown design sir,” Cassini added. “We gathered some examples, although I could not say if they were still in working order.”
“I have been made aware Lieutenant,” DeMarchek leaned forward and slid the book to one side of his desk. Below it his own personal slate was set into the top of the desk, inert until he activated it.
The screen lit up, sending its images to hover a few centimetres into the empty air above it and DeMarchek caught the flicker of the Lieutenant’s eyes as the unfamiliar, blocky outline of the weapon in question appeared. It spun gently, lines of data scrolling beside it.
“Our analysts in the armoury have been spending a lot of time on the weapons you retrieved.” He looked up at Cassini, seeing the man had returned his stare to the wall again. “The mission
overall was deemed a success by Command, albeit grudgingly. Our aim was to recover the substation to Luna and the station’s techs for debrief.” He studied Cassini’s face.
“As it is, the only recovery made of any particular note was made by you Lieutenant.”
He saw the twitch at the edge of the Lieutenant’s mouth. Pride, he decided.
He gestured to the slate, calling up another scroll of information.
“I see from your after-action report that your squad dispatched,” He consulted the hovering display briefly, “six of the enemy with confirmed kills.”
Cassini nodded his head, “That is correct Lord Admiral.”
“Would it please you to hear that no other officer, including the NCO’s, could account for confirmed kills of even half that number?”
He watched the face again. The muscles were better controlled than at the start of their conversation, but DeMarchek had spent many years learning to see the words that went unsaid. The Lieutenants face was a picture of grief.
“It wouldn’t please me sir, no.” He said.
Pride, but not hubris, DeMarchek thought. Lanad might just have been right about him.
He continued to review the report, refreshing his memory on the details he had highlighted in an earlier reading.
“And I understand your reserve squad suffered only a single casualty,” He waved at the signs of Cassini’s own injuries.
“A fatal casualty that is, not including of course, the injuries you yourself sustained.”
“Marine Corporal Charles Cooper, sir.” Cassini supplied the name that the Lord Admiral was reading.
“He was a good marine sir.”
“Can you explain to me how it is that your reserve suffered such low casualties when all other squads saw significant losses Lieutenant?”
Cassini opened his mouth to speak and stopped. After a moment he spoke.
“We had more fortunate circumstances, sir.” He said in a flat tone.
DeMarchek narrowed his eyes.
“Are you telling me you were simply lucky Lieutenant?” He asked, incredulity heavy on his tone.
“Not exactly sir,” He could see Cassini working to find the right words, the appropriate words.
“The reserve wasn’t subject to the same ambush conditions as the initial forces and we had received intel from them on the enemy, that they didn’t have going in, sir.”
DeMarchek toyed with the idea of bating this Lieutenant on his attitude toward the mission intelligence, just to see him squirm.
He put the idea aside as childish. There were more important things to discuss.
“Tell me Lieutenant, what was it that caused you to disobey my orders and enter the reactor chamber?”
The Lieutenant froze. DeMarchek could see the answers to his question being weighed in Cassini’s eyes.
Will he lie to me?
“I chose to enter the substation to retrieve the body of Sergeant Augustine Johs, sir.” He said, his eyes fixed on the wall still. “I felt it crucial to the moral of the Company that we not leave her body behind.”
DeMarchek stared for a long moment. He had made plans for Aitkin Cassini. It was important they not be derailed, but he couldn’t let this disobedience pass without comment or punishment.
He leaned back again, hearing the creak of the chair’s frame as his weight shifted.
“I have reviewed the reports from Lieutenant Bolthosian and your own sergeant, Johs, I believe.”
He laid his hands flat on the rests of his chair.
“It strikes me that what you did was learn from the mistakes of your fellow officers, adapt your tactics to better suit your enemy and had it not been for the losses already incurred, I believe you may have been able to salvage more from this
mission than some fancy new weapons tech to get the lab types back on Luna all excited. Were Captain Lanad recovered enough to add his voice would he say something different do you suppose? I don’t think so.”
Cassini didn’t respond. DeMarchek could see the difficulty he was having with the praise being heaped upon him. It made him uncomfortable.
Humility as well eh?
“I understand you have not seen fit to apply for promotion since attaining your current rank. Is there a particular reason for that?” He saw the flicker of confusion in the Lieutenant’s eyes at the change of direction.
He’s waiting for the punishment. He’s waiting for the hammer to fall.
“No sir.” Cassini replied, “I had not considered myself ready for the position of Captain yet sir.”
“Don’t be so humble Lieutenant,” DeMarchek scoffed.
“You have accorded yourself with honour and skill on this mission and I have received multiple reports from Captain Lanad over the last year, in which he mentions urging you to seek a Captaincy at your earliest opportunity. So tell me honestly, what is it that’s stopped you?”
“Permission to speak freely sir?”
“Granted.”
Cassini lowered his eyes, meeting the Lord Admiral’s gaze for the first time since he’d walked into the office.
“I have considered the application, sir, but,” He halted.
“The Test?” DeMarchek supplied.
Cassini shook his head.
“No sir. I will stand any test to prove myself worthy of the responsibility, but if I am to be make captain I’d want it to be with the marines I lead.”
So there is ambition in him.
“You want to be First Captain or no captain at all. Is that it?” DeMarchek’s tone presented the question as a statement. He could see the answer written plain on the lieutenant’s face.
Cassini lowered his head slightly, “Yes sir.”
“Well I cannot grant you that particular honour Lieutenant,” DeMarchek said in a more energetic tone. “While our good Captain Lanad is currently in no fit state to lead the First Company, he is still
captain of the First Company.”
Cassini nodded his understanding, his eyes cast downwards.
“And of course, I could not be seen to appoint a captain who does not follow the orders I issue to him directly.”
He watched the words sink in.
“I do, however, find myself short one Second Company Captain, at present.” DeMarchek continued, seeing the lieutenant’s eyes rise, wide, to meet his own.
“If I were to overlook this one occasion of questionable behaviour in an otherwise, fairly distinguished record, do you believe you could compromise your ideals just enough to take the commission?”
“It would be an honour sir.” Cassini replied after a moment’s pause.
“I’m glad to hear you say so, Lieutenant Cassini.” DeMarchek fixed him with a warm smile. “There are a few requirements that you will need to satisfy first however.”
“Of course sir.” He could hear the energy in Cassini’s words; see the effort the man was making not to show his pride and excitement in too unseemly a fashion.
“Firstly, you will submit to me three suggestions for your replacement, from within the Six Companies, including your reasoning and supporting evidence for any achievements of note.”
Cassini nodded.
“Secondly, you will have to learn, if you are successful, to adapt your manner somewhat.” The lieutenant’s brow furrowed.
“Sir?”
“If you make it to Second Captain you and I will converse on a semi-regular basis. If that happens I can’t have you staring over my shoulder the whole time.”
A brief smile broke onto Cassini’s face before he pushed it away.
“Yes sir.”
“And of course, thirdly, is the Captains’ Test.”
DeMarchek let the weight of the words sink in. he knew Cassini would know of the test’s existence, but how much of the truth he knew was likely to be very little.
He lifted the book from his desk, showing the matte cover to his guest.
“Have you ever heard of this particular book?” He asked. Cassini leaned forward to better see the title.
“No sir, I don’t believe so.” He said after a moment.
DeMarchek shook his head sadly.
“It’s no wonder. I sometimes have to question the teaching choices of the Academy.”
He stood from his desk, bringing the open book with him.
“It is said that if you know your enemies and know yourself, you will not be imperilled in a hundred battles,” He read as he stepped from behind the desk.
“If you do not know your enemies, but do know yourself, you will win one and lose one.”
He walked up close to where Cassini stood listening.
“If you do not know your enemies nor yourself, you will be imperilled in every single battle.”
He let the book snap shut and looked Lieutenant Cassini direct in the eye.
“We do not know this enemy, Lieutenant,” He said quietly, “We are imperilled in every other battle at best, and only if we can honestly say we know ourselves.” His face was close to the lieutenant’s now, his eyes searching.
“How well do you know yourself Lieutenant Cassini?”
To his credit Cassini did not shrink away from him.
“I know myself Lord Admiral.” He said with a confident, level tone.
“Perhaps you do Captain Cassini.” DeMarchek turned away and placed the book back onto his desk. “The Captains’ Test is designed to tell us exactly how well.”
He swiveled to face Cassini.
“You believe you are strong no doubt. The Test will show
Just how strong you really are. You believe you are loyal. The Test will be your proof. You believe you can withstand the pressure of command, the force of your enemies, fight through the agony of wounds you suffer in combat. The Test will show you exactly where your limits lie.”
Captain Cassini looked back at him with confidence.
“I am ready Lord Admiral,” He said. “I will not disappoint you.”
DeMarchek regarded him for a moment with shrewd eyes.
“I certainly hope not.” DeMarchek stepped back towards his newest Captain.
“Once you leave this office you will be accorded the rank of Captain of the Second Company, Deorum Marines. You will report to the aft hanger deck at nineteen-hundred and from there will be delivered to your Captains’ Test by a representative who will present themselves to you with my authority.”
He could see the doubt creeping back into Cassini’s eyes.
“Make no mistake Captain, this will be the most grueling assessment of your life. You will be measured in ways you had not previously considered possible and if you are found wanting you will not return to us.” He let the implication sink in.
“If you are successful you will undergo a procedure to remove the specifics of the Test from your memory, lest you should feel tempted to give another candidate any helpful hints, and will be delivered to Luna for your Confirmation. Only once your Confirmation is complete will you be a Captain in formal record, but until then account yourself as such.”
Now we find out if Lanad was right about you.
“Do you accept this Test Captain Aitkin Cassini?” He asked the question, waited for the answer.
“I accept this Test, Lord Admiral.” Aitkin replied without hesitation.
“Very well,” DeMarchek smiled broadly and took Cassini’s unstrapped hand in his, shaking it vigorously in the old style; palm to palm.
“Consider yourself under Interrogation protocol for the duration of your Test Captain. You will not speak of your mission or what you learned of our new enemy.”
DeMarchek added as he used his clamp on Cassini’s hand to guide him to the door.
“May Deorum smile on you.”
He released Cassini’s hand, allowing the man to open the door and step out of the office.
DeMarchek watched it close and stood in contemplation for a moment, before returning to his desk. He sat down in the deep chair, letting the cushioning support him as it had done for so many years. He glanced at the book on his desk and smiled grimly.
If we know ourselves we can win one in two. We must know our enemies as well to ensure victory every time.
He pressed the icon on his slate to activate the comm. Speaking out loud he summoned his personal aide into his office.
After a moment the door from the antechamber, where he had had her wait during his interview with Cassini, opened to admit her. She was young, at least when compared to the Lord Admiral. Her hair was dark, almost black in hue and pulled tight against her scalp. She was slim and shorter than the Lord Admiral, with pinched features that always put him in mind of the birds of prey of Earth.
She was professional in manner and in all the years she’d been in his service he doubted she’d ever uttered an unnecessary word to him.
“Captain Cassini will be undertaking the Test, in a view to replacing Captain Timonny in the Second.” He said, seeing her lift her own personal slate and tap at the display to log his orders.
“Contact our ‘special’ partner and make them aware he will be waiting in the aft hanger deck at nineteen-hundred hours.” Her fingers continued to dance to his words.
“You will review the entirety of the session and submit your report directly to me upon completion.” She nodded in mute acquiescence.
DeMarchek let himself sink deeper into his chair.
“Oh, and tell them he will be quite a task to break,” He added. “There’s something in him that I think will push them harder than usual.” Again the tapping, again the nod.
DeMarchek pondered a moment.
“Tell them I need to know about his last mission,” He said. “Something about the reports…” he shook his head, unable to complete his thought verbally.
In Cassini’s report he’d confirmed the injuries he’d taken and the report of his sergeant had concurred. There was a whole in their consistency though.
In Cass
ini’s report he attributed their last three confirmed kills to the marines of Johs’ squad, whilst the Sergeant and himself were both injured, but Johs’ own telling referred to their enemy already being disabled when his marines pulled them from the substation trans-shaft. Either or both were not being entirely honest, but why they would eschew the plaudits afforded by claiming the kills for themselves, he had no idea.
“Is there anything else Lord Admiral?” His aide queried. His reverie broken he shook his head again.
“No, that will be everything for now. Notify me when Captain Cassini’s Test begins.
She nodded a third time and made her way from his office. DeMarchek wondered on what they might learn from Cassini’s test as he watched Natasha In’Tuen leave.
FORTY-NINE
Martius looked down into the dark liquid of his drink. He wasn’t sure exactly what it was. He’d asked for something strong and this is what he’d been given. The low light made the fluid in his glass look almost black. He could see his own eyes staring back up at him from its oily surface.
His face looked strange. His eyes were sunken, his cheeks and chin covered in coarse dark hair. It grew in inconsistent patches, little clumps of the short wiry hairs sprouting next to areas of skin that remained stubbornly bare. He’d never tried to grow a beard or moustache before. Looking at the sorry state of his reflection now he vowed he would never try.
His head still ached from the noise of the riot. It had gone on and on and on. He thought he would go mad before the sounds of violence and uproar abated. By the time it was over his arms and legs were numb. It had taken him several minutes to get from his sitting position onto his knees and even then his wrists had still been tied behind him. There was only one place he knew he could go. Where there were people he thought he could trust; Lily’s.
He’d stumbled in, looking so terrible the big men of this dark little place had been fit to throw him straight back out onto the street. He pleaded with them to allow him entrance. His pleas fell on deaf ears and he thought he’d be forcefully ejected when he heard the voice of Maritha calling them back.
She was an angel. She set one of the men to releasing Martius from his bonds in a private room away from the public bar area, then had one of her girls bring him water and whiskey. He downed the whiskey, grimacing as it burned his throat and sipped the water until another whiskey was brought to him.