“Sarath, I understand your concerns. I myself have thought the same on occasion, but I believe Albert is right about this one. The Stygibora have already proven to be the antithesis to our power. Because of their resistance to standard Li-Tech, we took more losses on Earth than in any battle since the first attack on Mars. Is there a chance, however slight, that working with a race proficient in weaponry of a different type could prove useful? I believe that if we can convince the humans to accept another species into their lawmaking body, there will eventually be change. If it doesn’t work, how bad would it truly be if we took over again?” — Letter to the Unranked Council, from Tobias Ross.
The landscape slipped past lazily as Alec flew back toward the garrison and their lives as soldiers. Jack pushed their trip as long as possible, and now they would be pressed for time when they returned. Luckily, the members of Turaspeir had taken his advice and packed everything they owned back onto the company ship before they left on the hiking trip. There were a few minor items left to clear up, but overall, the state of readiness in Speir squad was acceptable. If there was anything to be concerned about, it was the eventual meeting Jack would need to have with Sergeant Smith—the quartermaster for his platoon—to explain why the company would need to purchase two ninety-minute air canisters but not the masks that should’ve been used with them.
It wasn’t like the quartermaster was unaware of the activities that happened on trips like these, but he would want an explanation. Sadly, that meant Dave and Candice would need to recount the events of their underwater excursion. Best case, the man would laugh about it and write the equipment off as a loss, but Jack was never that lucky. More than likely, Smith would record the meeting and report the loss to Lieutenant Hawkins, who would, in turn, report to Captain Griffin. Hopefully, the captain would find the situation as ridiculous as he did and let the issue die, but Jack sincerely doubted his chain of command wanted to be the laughingstock of the brigade. Letting everyone know that Charlie Company had almost lost a fight to a big fish wouldn’t be good for morale. If history were any guide, the battalion would ensure that Charlie Company got the crap end of every assignment until someone screwed up worse. It never took long—there was always a private getting drunk and doing something stupid—but life until then would almost certainly be miserable for everyone.
“Do you have your story ready?” Dave asked, chewing on a stick of jerky.
“Yeah, the story is going to be that you and Candice lost them in the ocean. If he wants more, then it’s coming from you two.” Jack replied, “I’m not coming up with an excuse while you two both have a perfectly unbelievable story ready to go.”
“Cold,” Candice whined, “you’re really going to do us like that after we fed you some delicious fire-roasted squid?”
“Yes, and if you hadn’t lost the air tanks, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. What I’m hoping is that he can write them off as a loss on an upcoming mission and leave no one the wiser.” Jack explained, motioning to the pair of soldiers, “And if he happens to want to hear the story for himself, well… you two can do a great job recounting that to him.”
“Ten credits says this gets up to the captain at least,” Warren cut in. “It’s funny enough to warrant an explanation, but those things are expensive. Hopefully Smith is smart enough to keep it off the record.”
Alec snorted, "Are you really doubting Smith?" He remembered the time he had questioned the quartermaster's judgement, and was proven wrong before the end of the day.
“Not at all. I’m smart enough to realize how bad that ends up for me if I do,” Warren answered, eyes flashing as he worked his Vis-HUD. “I remember him loading one of your shoulder cannons with confetti shot for a month. Granted, we were still in training, but the point remains the same.”
“Good times.” Alec said sarcastically, crossing the last stretch of forest as the garrison came into view. “At least he didn’t see fit to do that to all my weapons, or it could’ve been really bad.”
“What would you have done about it? You’da been dead.” Dave remarked.
“I would hope someone would have the forethought to upload me to Re:Birth and pursue a claim of foul play?”
“Nah, too much paperwork.” Cecile said, “You think Jack would give up that much personal time for petty revenge?”
“Assholes.” The dragoon grumbled, setting the ship down in the motor pool outside the garrison walls.
Jack stared at the fortress for the first time in nearly two weeks. Every time he laid eyes on the Greek villa, he struggled to wrap his mind around why anyone would build a military installation with no security. Logically, he knew it was because the AHF guarded the planet from orbit, but walking around a building with open breezeways instead of walls made him uneasy in a strange way. It had taken him a few weeks to get past that initial unease, but he was eventually comfortable enough to let his guard down and truly relax.
And that’s what Erochea truly was: a place to recover from the shock of battle and heal both physically and mentally. It wasn’t like basic training where a soldier’s mind was something to be broken down and rebuilt for war, but more like a veterans' bar where people with similar experiences could lean on each other and rebuild the fortress of the mind.
“Get your shit off my sled and onto the company ship.” Sergeant Smith yelled over the sound of engines spinning down. “The fuck are you doing getting back less than a day before we leave planet? Dammit Speir, I know you’re new to this, but you gots to be more professional.”
“Sergeant, we’re already packed. There are a few last-minute items to clear up, but my soldiers are ready for takeoff. If they haven’t already done so, I would bet most of my squad already has their wall-locker packed and on board.” Jack defended, pulling his rucksack onto his shoulders as he stood. “We scheduled the trip so we could be home in time. If they leave something behind because they failed to prepare properly, that’s on them.”
“Well… that’s refreshing,” Smith said, voice dropping to a conversational tone once the engines died. “Do you know how rare it is for a group to be on point and not running around, looking for lost equipment the day before we leave?”
Jack winced, knowing he was about to ruin the respect his team had just garnered. “About that. We need to talk about a few items lost during the last mission six months ago.”
The quartermaster raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “Oh really? I seem to remember my report showing only damaged equipment. Nothing went missing that wasn’t already reported. Not to mention, amending a report like that looks bad on the quartermaster who filed it.”
Jack motioned for his squad to leave and clean out the cargo boxes they’d used during their trip. This interaction could go sideways rather easily, and he didn’t need Dave or Candice causing that shift. “Did I say last mission? I meant the one we’re about to go on. You see, I got an early manifest from Top that said we needed ninety-minute air canisters added to our inventory, and I have to warn you that a couple of my soldiers will probably lose them. If someone added a second canister to a few load-outs—and they go missing—well, that’s just the cost of doing business.”
“I see,” Smith nodded. “And, uh, did you happen to catch how they got lost?”
“Something about the safety not locking properly and needing to be repaired. Both soldiers thought the canisters were secure on their gear, but clearly, they fell off.”
“Noted. You know, I hear there’s a real nice distillery down by the water. They have mighty fine rum made from a type of sugarcane that can only be found here. While on planet, each bottle runs about two-hundred credits. I tried to pick up a bottle in the deep black once, and it cost me nearly a thousand.” Smith hinted, pulling a thick cigar from his uniform pocket and lighting it.
“Really? I can’t believe the upcharge is so high. Would you mind sharing the name of that distillery, so I don’t order it from the bar on the HUB?”
“Oh, you’ll never mistake it for anything but. It’s called Erochea Gold and has a sunrise on the label. You ever see it out there, you steer clear.” The sergeant took a deep pull on his cigar, watching the members of Turaspeir squad carry the three cargo boxes into the heart of the garrison hangar. He knew these kids would lose something when he signed out all that equipment last week, but if he was going to get his ass chewed for lost gear, he would at least get a good bottle of whiskey out of it.
Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
~~**~~
“That should be the last of it.” Jack said, carefully wrapping a bottle in a shirt and slipping it into his rucksack. He and Thea had gone down to the village after dropping off the rest of their equipment and purchased the extremely expensive bottle of rum for the quartermaster. While he wasn’t exactly pleased to shell out money, the knowledge that his soldiers could hold on to their pride for one more day made up for it.
“I get why we bought one bottle, but do you really think we’ll need a backup?” Thea asked, wrapping a second bottle and packing it away.
“Yes? At the very least, I expect that we’ll need something to drink at some point in the future. If that means celebration, great. But I have a bad feeling it will be in memory of at least one soldier.”
“I guess it also serves as another get out of jail free card from Smith.”
“That may have also crossed my mind. But I’d rather not give the old curmudgeon more booze if I don’t have to.” Jack laughed, picking up both bags and walking to the door. “Are you headed to the Sky Garden?”
“Yeah, I’m going to find us a good spot for our last night. There’s a big lounge chair I think we can claim if I get there early enough.”
“Alright then, I’ll see you in a bit with a glass of wine and a plate of cheese.”
Lost in thought as he strolled along a hallway that led deeper into the garrison, Jack ran through potential scenarios in his head. Based on his history with the company, he wouldn’t be surprised if they handed Turaspeir squad a new mission the very hour they returned to the HUB ship. Honestly, he’d be shocked if he and Thea had time to secure an apartment before new orders came down. So lost was he in these contemplations that he almost ran into his former drill sergeant turned first sergeant.
“Just the man I wanted to see,” First Sergeant Summers said, raising his eyebrows as he danced out of the way of the distracted young optic.
“Excuse me, First Sergeant, I wasn’t paying attention.” Jack said, not hearing the words.
Summers raised his hand, motioning for Jack to continue walking in the most flamboyant way possible. “Not a problem at all. Headed to the ship, I assume?”
“Yes, First Sergeant.”
“Good. I’ll come with you,” he said, falling into step with Jack. “What has you so distracted?”
“Wondering if we’ll get thrown directly back into the fire once we’re back on the HUB. Last time, my squad had less than twenty-four hours between graduating our training and being deployed to fight the Oteric.”
“You’re talking about the mission that cost the life of your squadmate?”
“Yes. We’ve all made significant improvements psychologically in the past six months, but we can’t test that until we’re back in the line of fire.” Jack said, adjusting the strap of Thea’s pack and turning a corner.
“I can respect that. But knowing the AHF, what do you think is likely to happen when we get back up there? Think back to when we first got here after Algol. How long did they allow for integration?”
“They let us take it pretty easy for the first few weeks, but we’re not new to the company anymore.” Jack said, confusion clear on his face.
“Yes, and a company never takes in new soldiers after losing several bodies to the Steel Corps,” Summer replied, sarcasm dripping from his words.
“Are we getting new transfers? It’ll be the first time I see the AHF add a member to a group after basic training.”
“Give the man a prize. He caught on to what I was saying after only two hints.” He announced like a game show host, clapping his hands in mock enthusiasm. “But honestly, Jack, we need fresh bodies. Not only in our company, but the brigade as a whole. From the reports we’ve received, Delta company took some heavy losses recently, and so they’ll take our place here at the garrison after we leave.”
It made sense. Any military unit that saw action would deal with losses. It was a rule that existed since man first drew a weapon against his brother. While scholars of war such as Sun Tzu and Napoleon Bonaparte stressed the importance of minimizing losses, inevitably, soldiers would die on the field of battle, and the army would move on.
“And how should I handle integration with the unit? My guys are good people, but it’s hard to trust your life to someone you don’t know.” Jack said, opening the hangar door and approaching the craft inside.
“That is your cross to bear, and a test that will be the answer to your advancement in the AHF. I can’t give you an answer about the men you lead daily, but I can tell you that getting the shit kicked out of you is a great way to build some instant bonds.”
“Really? A fight is your answer?”
The older, dark-skinned man gave Jack a look, refusing to speak until he figured it out on his own. It was something Jack had learned to expect back on Algol, and it was strangely comforting to see the behavior continued even after Summers gave up the drill sergeant hat.
“It’s how you bonded us on Algol. You used the pain and misery of near-constant PT combined with mock battles to create a situation where we needed to put aside our differences and work together.” Jack realized, coming to the answer Summers wanted.
“Exactly. And if the new soldier is who I think it will be, you will have your work cut out for you. I can’t say much yet, but silver will be part of your platoon’s color scheme.” Summer said, light twinkling in his eye as he held back information he knew would bother Jack until it came to light.
The pair walked into fourth platoon’s armory, and Jack deposited the two rucksacks in the proper wall lockers, securing them for the trip. He couldn’t take the bottles of rum out now, but Smith would likely have an apartment on the HUB ship and Jack could deliver them there.
“Well, sergeant, I can’t say I’m enthused to deal with this. But if the AHF needs us to get over ourselves and work with someone new, then I guess that’s what we’re going to do.”
“Good man,” Summers said, clapping Jack on the shoulder, “now get to the Sky Garden. Your sweetie is waiting for you.”
~~**~~
“So about these reinforcements,” Thea said once she and Jack had the keys to their new apartment and were safely inside and away from prying ears. “What makes you think the AHF will suddenly shift its rules on Steel Cast and humans being in the same unit?”
The apartment they’d rented with their monthly allowance was significantly nicer than the one he and Thea lived in before Jack was promoted to sergeant. Even with his current salary, most apartments like this should’ve been far out of his price range. As a Bronze Nova recipient, there were certain landlords inside the HUB ship willing to give him a hefty discount for the honor of saying they had a war hero living there. While Jack had no intention of retelling the story that earned him the medal—he was certain the civilian running the complex didn’t really care—it was nice to have a place with a window that looked out at the sprawling city-like structure of an AHF HUB ship.
“When I spoke to Summers, he mentioned that command was trying to push something new. Apparently, reinforcing a squad between major missions is normal, provided there is enough time to integrate properly before the next deployment.” Jack said, maneuvering a hover-sled carrying their belongings into the apartment's single bedroom. “But since the attack on Earth, the AHF hasn’t been able to recruit with the volume they normally can. So, either we’re getting recruits shipped in from Algol that are from other colonies, or they’re going to ramp up the production of Steel Cast and pull more people from Re:Birth.”
“Makes sense. I don’t know if I agree about bringing recruits from other colonies, but I guess I could see bringing a Steel Cast into the squad.” Thea acknowledged with a nod, “But why wouldn’t they pull in Ortiz? He’s already uploaded to the server and we know him, so integration wouldn’t be difficult.”
“From what I understand, it’s a first in, last out situation. So if they really print that many Cast, the likelihood of us getting Ortiz is slim to none.”
“That’s… going to suck,” Thea said, moving a bag to the pre-furnished bed to unpack. “I understand they need to get people who were on ice the longest back on their feet, but they should keep squads together like they were before.”
“Can’t argue with that at all. I want to see Ortiz again as much as anyone else, but something tells me there is more going on here than a few Steel Cast.”
“I like your new home,” Bob interrupted over the apartment's integrated speakers—a feature Jack and Thea were unaware of. “You have an incoming message from… well, most of your squad.”
“God dammit, you come out of the ceiling now? What are the messages?” Jack rolled his eyes.
“Yes, but you can be sure that I’ve already blinded the optical sensors. Nobody needs to be subjected to that visage every day. All the messages are basically the same. The members of Speir have gotten apartments close by. Alec, Dave, and Candice have one together; didn’t see that one coming at all. Then Nessa and Warren are together, and last, Cecile and Thomas.”
“That’s interesting. How far away are they?”
“That’s the interesting bit. They followed you. Based on a quick search, they are living literally next door.” Bob explained, somehow making the inoffensive words sarcastic.
Jack changed into a set of comfortable clothes and walked toward the door. “Do you want to come with me? I’m planning to run out and grab something to eat.”
“Yeah, I’ll come along, nothing too serious here.” Thea said, walking into the foyer as he pulled a loose-fitting gym shirt on.
They were on a different HUB ship than last time. Instead of endless steel-gray walls that stretched on with nothing to break the monotony, they decorated these in a wide range of colors and designs that reminded Jack of Phoenix Prime. No two halls were alike, and that brought a certain amount of life to the ship that didn’t exist before.
“Now, where are you two going?” A familiar Irish voice said behind the couple.
Jack turned and smiled, raising a questioning eyebrow at Nessa as she jogged to catch up to them. “Dinner. And what has you so clearly dressed for battle?”
The red-haired breaker wore a unitard of silver and crimson, her hair pulled back in a tight bun with a pair of Li-Tech hilts clipped to her belt. Her green eyes burned, giving away her desire for battle without ever needing to vocalize the words. She typed something in the air, touching buttons only visible through her Vis-HUD before responding.
“Well, that’s because I am. I’ve been sparring against people from our own company for the past six months. Now that we’re back, I need to test my mettle against someone who doesn’t know my capabilities.” Nessa smiled evilly.
“Hey Jack, I don’t think I’m terribly hungry anymore.” Thea said, joining in Nessa’s evil smile.
“You know, Thea, I’m thinking the same. Food can wait. It’s not every day we get to see our friend kick the living shit out of someone that doesn’t know any better.” Jack replied, redirecting the map built into his HUD to the brigade training room.
