Opening Moves (21 page)

“As you all know we are to be split up and deployed for fleet security duties,” Mukaba began with a southern drawl in his voice.

A high proportion of the 1020
th
was from the old United States' part of the North American Union, an accident of geography more than anything else. Most regiments were raised in given former countries or even states. As a result they naturally tended to draw on the local populations. As such, a regiment raised in Mexico City would mostly consist of soldiers who spoke Spanish first, Interlingo second and English third, if at all. As units moved around and received replacements their cultural basis changed as recruits from different nations, cultures and languages were assigned to fill places. Slowly over time a regiment would end up as diverse as the groups that constituted the nation that fielded it. Currently, however, the 1020
th
in its latest incarnation was still less than a decade old and consequently still had a heavy US-American bias.

“
You will be expected to provide internal security for the vessel. You'll also be the ones that guard the delicate ladies of the Navy in case they go aboard other ships they may find or have stopped. Be gentle there, protect them from raiders, pirates, hostile attacks, mutiny and perhaps space zombies.”

There were one or two chuckles.

“However, you will not be expected to conduct boarding actions under enemy fire,” the Colonel stated. “I know Ten-Twenty is rated for Zero-G operations, but I've outlined this with fleet command. We might be covering for the Marines but we aren't trained for breaching operations.”

The company reaction was mixed. Lee personally was not concerned. Starship deployments for non-Marine Corps units tended to be short due to the wasting effects of prolonged exposure to lower gravity conditions on human physiology. The Marines had special training regimens and medical plans to keep them in their best physical condition. But then they weren't qualified to use the armored combat suits a unit like the Ten-Twenty did. Everything had its pros and cons. Anyway, most deployments usually took less than a month, and even in war or crisis more than two or three months before a rest was almost unheard of.

“This isn't what we trained for. Still, we are Union soldiers and we go where we are told. The 1020
th
has never failed in an assignment and this will not be the first occasion. Soldiers, I know you will do the regiment proud. Any questions?”

None was forthcoming.

“Very well,” the Colonel nodded. “But before you are dismissed, Private Lee, stand up please.”

The rest of the company went deathly quiet as Samantha rose to her feet and snapped to attention, the actions not slowed or dimmed by her adverse condition.

“Private, I understand you represented the regiment in a contest this morning against the 150
th
Dropship Squadron. Is that correct?”

“
Sir, yes, it is, sir.”

“
I understand the honor of the regiment was insulted and you successfully redressed that balance. Is that true?” Mukaba asked sternly.

“
Yes sir, it is, sir.”

“
The Union's armed forces don't approve of drinking contests, and you can thank the fates you were not on duty at the time. Officially, private, I strongly disapprove of these actions.” The Colonel broke into a smile. “Unofficially, way to go.”

The company seemed to exhale at once. A few clapped for Sammy once or twice.

“All right company! Assemble at bay twelve in an hour for deployment. Do us proud.” The Colonel saluted and the company stood up to attention. “Dismissed.”

Alpha Company streamed out while the Colonel retrieved documents for the next briefing. Mukaba had to address each company in turn, and as Lee left he noticed Beta Company ready to move in. A couple of the guys gave her a nod or a pat on the back. News of Sammy's exploits apparently traveled fast.

Captain Madison gave a disapproving stare, but the colonel had made a decision on the subject so Madison let it go. Lee was something of a regimental mascot now and frankly, she was a damn effective soldier, too. Captain Madison needed a solid core of troops like her. Even if they might cause problems at home, in the field they were totally dependable. He saluted the Colonel, then followed his troops out.

* * * * * * *

“Greetings and salutations!” the exuberant officer smiled widely. “I am Captain Beaufort and will be your host for the next two months.”

Lee and her platoon relaxed a little. A two-month deployment was all right. They would still be back for Christmas. Lieutenant Jones stepped forward and saluted on their behalf.

“Lieutenant Miguel Jones, sir, reporting for duty.”

Beaufort returned the salute and laughed. “Please Lieutenant, no need for formality. The
JOHNSTON has a relaxed atmosphere and I'd like to keep it that way. I found that keeping
strictly
to the regulations in deep space leads to excessive stresses on a crew already stressed by the rigors of space travel.”

“
Understood, sir.” Jones shifted his kit bag. “We have twenty soldiers, two sergeants and two second lieutenants, plus myself, sir.”

“
Bon
, lieutenant.” Captain Beaufort made no secret about his French-Canadian background. He was an older officer, probably in his early eighties or nineties, with gray curly hair cut fairly short and a bushy mustache which seemed to dominate his face. He was very pale but sported a fairly large belly.

That, in and by itself, was a good sign. If the commanding officer wasn't afraid of eating it meant the ship's mess served some good food. Combined with his jovial manner it added up to a man who looked more at home on children's net feed shows, or perhaps as ring master in a circus out in the colonies where regulations weren't handled quite that strictly either.

“Commander Ranaissa will see to your needs,” he nodded to a slender blonde woman in the white tunic and blue trousers of a naval officer's uniform. She looked young and somewhat inexperienced, but triple rows of service ribbons on her tunic's chest belied that idea. “But only as far as duty permits, eh?” he chuckled loudly. “There is to be, how do you say it, 'no funny business', eh?” he burst out laughing.

Commander Ranaissa smiled weakly and shrugged at Jones as if she was used to it. Official regulations were quite clear on relationships between members of the armed forces officers. They weren't outlawed, but partners would not be allowed to serve in the same command.

Beaufort however still considered it a subject of amusement to remind anyone coming onto his ship, and Lee had to admit Ranaissa was damn attractive. “I run a relaxed ship, but not
that
relaxed!” he chuckled.

Commander Ranaissa for her part smiled on, apparently taking no offense at the Francophone officer's jest. She had served with him long enough to recognize him as a sort of mad uncle. He had his odd habits and a quirky personality, but below the surface she knew he was looking out for her, gently warning off these brusque looking soldiers. He was the father figure of the JOHNSTON and its crew and would fight tooth and nail for his people if they needed it. So she accepted his odd jokes because he was simply the best officer she knew.

“If you would follow me,” she turned to Lt. Jones. “We have a dropship waiting to take us to the ship.” She spoke with a faint mid-western accent.

“
Yes, Ma'am.” Jones nodded and turned to address the Platoon. “All right people, look alive! Sergeant Masters, I want them loaded up in four minutes, let's move to it.”

Sammy and her comrades filed past at the double, their kit bouncing on their backs while dock workers moved the heavy cases of weapons and hardware that belonged to the platoon. For once Lee was actually pleased to be on a ship. She wanted a change in her duties and had never done ship board security before. Maybe it was something she would even enjoy as most of the time it involved doing very little.

“What're you so happy about?” Grunt frowned. Obviously Samantha's face betrayed her thoughts.

“
Probably admiring the scenery.” Tucker nudged his friend and nodded at Commander Ranaissa.

“
Hey guys, I'm a married woman!” she protested, though not exactly forcefully. The Commander
was
damn attractive. “Nah, I was just thinking a bit of ship borne duty might be fun. Besides, I'm kinda hoping to go on a spacewalk.”

“
A spacewalk?” Grunt scoffed. “You're a grunt, honey, not effin' Neil Armstrong!”

“
Yeah well, I'm going to give it a try,” Lee resolved. “Just once I'd like to see what it's really like out there.”

“
Yeah, well, I'll be too busy looking around in here,” Grunt commented, again glancing at the slender Commander talking to her Captain.

“
Even if she wasn't in the fleet, she is so out of your league it ain't even funny,” Tucker observed wryly. “You'd have better luck wooing Sammy here. Say, maybe Lee will find something clinging to the hull which is more your level when she goes for her walk?”

Before Grunt could deliver his witty response the sergeant had them in the dropship and strapped in, and five minutes later they were heading for their new home for the next two months, the heavy cruiser U.V.S. JOHNSTON. Lee had a hunch that the months were going to just fly past.

Akvô, Home world of the Érenni Republics.

Gwythyr looked out in wonder over the gleaming blue and green ocean before him, the bright white sand of the beach shifting by his booted feet. Beyond the breaking waves spires rose up on tiny islands breaking out of the ocean's depths, amazingly beautiful buildings that were slender and graceful yet extremely strong and able to resist the storms of this world and its violent earthquakes. The Érenni loved the sea and the humidity of their home world. As their numbers grew beyond the small land mass' capacity to hold them all they had built great cities in and around water to harbor their population. The underwater buildings were simply a marvel the Tuathaan ambassador to the Pact of Ten Suns had never seen rivaled anywhere else. Of all the places to sign treaties this was by far the most pleasant.

He noticed Mairwen, the Érenni representative striding towards him across the beach, the thick forests on the opposite side of the sea providing yet another stunning vista. “Ambassador,” the stocky Tuathtaan greeted. “I was just admiring the view.”

“Spectacular, isn't it?” the female agreed, the tiny scales that covered her body glittering silvery in the sun. “My family owns land beneath the sea just over there. I grew up in this place.”

“
Then I suppose you will be used to this view,” the Tuathaan noted.

“
Used to it?” she smiled. “You never get used to it, never. For fifty years I've memorized every single spire of this city, and it still awes me to stand here and look at it. I still feel like a child looking for the first time on this scene, this impossible construction, and every time I find myself gaping in wonder.”

They looked out together on the city for a while longer, an odd pairing of individuals from deeply different backgrounds. The thick set powerful warrior and the slender willowy pacifist, it had to be something extraordinary to bring them together in an alliance, and sure enough they had found a common goal.

“If the Dominion attack you, my people will strike them with all our might,” Gwythyr resolved. “I do not wish to see death and destruction visited on such a place.”

“
I, too, do not wish it, my friend. We hate war but realize that sometimes the choice to fight or not does not belong to us. Sometimes it is something that's thrust upon us,” Mairwen said somberly. “The Ashani cannot be stopped by words, and with tensions between the Ukhuri and Rasenni rising it is only a matter of time before our peace is shattered.”

The sudden escalation of tensions in the Oscan system had dominated the recent meeting between the Érenni and Tuathaan. A conflict between the distracted Rasenni and the opportunist Ukhuri would be a very bad thing for galactic stability. Worse, it might be just the excuse the Ashani strategoi needed to expand their war to either the Érenni or the Tuathaan. And nobody needed to emphasize that the peaceful Érenni were the far more inviting target than the combat-hardened clanholds. The meeting had formalized the mutual defense pact between the two peoples, so if the Ashani did attack one they would face a war on two fronts which certainly would be too great a risk, even for them.

“To protect this and the places like it we must be prepared to do the unthinkable and actively prosecute a war,” Mairwen said. “It goes against our very souls, but we will send an attack into the Dominion's space if you are attacked. It seems it is a sad necessity of our age.”

“
The Tuathaan will not forget your courage,” Gwythyr nodded quietly. “And we will honor our treaty. Maybe this could perhaps even be a new start for the Pact, a way to give birth to a closer binding of our peoples and others?”

Mairwen was interrupted by a trilling from her personal communicator. She took out the device and put it to her ear. “Yes, go ahead,” she said calmly.