You Know, Where Fairies and Gnomes Live.

     Bourbon, he indeed had. Marie found Zed intensely staring at his terminal, a map of the battle plan they had last reviewed on the Righteous before the present hostilities, lay across the screen.  Now, however, the map was alive with color.  She could see their present position highlighted just behind a thick blue line that lay intimately south of an equally thick red one.  Numbered blocks designated the units on the Conglomeration side, while some more hesitant marks hinted as the presumed strength of the enemy.

     It wasn’t the lines that Zed’s eyes were drawn to, but a scatter plot of blotches that drew an irregular trajectory up to and including the Antarian capital.  A clock wound up in the corner of the image and as it did, the irregular blots winked out one after another until there were none and the clock cycled back to zero and the dots resurrected. Along with the counting clock there was a buzz.  It was not electronic.  She could hear it coming from inside Jedediah’s head.  It didn’t seem like the bourbon.  It was like an idea, or a conclusion.  The solution to a puzzle lying right outside his grasp like an aggressive fly that can land on your eye lid, but just somehow manage to stay out of swatting distance.  

     “What’s shaking Zed?”  He hadn’t noticed her standing in the entry, but he paused his playback and gave her a grin and a gander.  

     “Sup shorty, late night.  You looking for a drink?”  She was damned if he wasn’t a better mind reader than she was, but who knew.  Such talk wasn’t for polite company.

     “Don’t call me that Zed, I’m not some sheltered 18 year old you can impress, just pour the Whisky.”  She sat down with him at his desk and he pulled out a spare glass.  “Just came from Marcus’ tent.  He’s as strung out as I’ve ever seen him.  Could probably use one too, but considering he lost his fight with the bottle awhile back, I figured it best not to tell him so.”

     “Well, you ain’t wrong, on either count.  But none of us much better off.  I haven’t had a lick of sleep since D-day and I need to.  This communications problem is bugging the crap out of me.  I feel like if I just went to bed, all the pieces would congeal right here.”  He tapped his forehead square in the middle and took a sip from his tumbler.  “But I gotta have it pegged and I gotta be ready by the morning.  Sleep just going to wreck me for as little as I’d get right now.”  Marie dragged her chair across the dirt floor to get a better look at the monitor.  She took a slow sip herself and exhaled the airy vapors that remained.

     “What’s the problem, If you don’t mind my asking?  Supposing its not operationally classified anyway.”  Zed put a finger on the scatter plot that extended past their lines.  

     “This, this is the problem.”  He paused until the clock began to make the dots disappear.  “You see that?  Those dots represent the clusters of Orbital Infantry that managed to land anywhere near their drop zones after Righteous went down.  They show up when we pick up their broadcasts here.  Then, as you see, one by one, after they pop up, they bloop right back off.”  A large group of dots all disappeared at the same time, right after that the display began the cycle all over again.  “That last wipe is when we sent an order out for broadcast silence.  No EM communication, whatsoever.  Just in case thats how they were being hunted.  Now of course, that means we have no idea if they’e still there or not.  Not until the balloon goes back up tomorrow”.

     “Tunnels?” She offered.  “What about the tunnels?  Last time we were here, this place was rotten with surface tunnels from the old mines.  Things the CEC forgot about over years of digging.  Place is crawling with them, remember?”

     “Can’t be.”  He replied. “Shut them all down.  All the derelict mine shafts were mapped, collapsed, or other wise filled during the last occupation.  I was here.  We didn’t plan on letting the locals use them against us ever again.  Just, something is up.  I just wish we had some good intel.  Without Righteous in orbit, or the Lunar outpost, we have no up to date orbital data, no access to the satellite network, and no drones.  All we have are the Z’s that made it planetside and those are on rationed fuel until we break out, so our up to date intel is limited to their range.  I’m not used to working like this.”

     “On so little?” Marie asked.  “The bane of a technologically dependent existence I guess?  We forget how we used to do it.  Oh, Balloons!  I just got it! We used to use Balloons!  How did I not get that expression before?”  Zed smiled.

     “Shit, thats it?  I didn’t know that either.  Are you sure?  I gotta read more.  Anyway, there is one more thing, can you guess, ms. making connections at 4am?”  Marie canted her head to one side, gave a squint.

     “Where…are they…going?  The O.I.s I mean?”  Zed made the finger on nose point gesture, with all she speed and grace his fatigue could muster.

     “Yup”. He said with a nod.  “These are heavily armed and impenetrably armored soldiers.  As far as we know, the Antarian’s don’t have shit that can take down one.  You saw how much lead I took yesterday, didn’t scratch.  What the hell is out there?  Or am I just worrying myself into insomnia?”  Marie drained her Whisky and stood up.

     “I don’t know.  But I’m tired.  I guess I’ll go have some quick nightmares about all that and get back to you there, I guess.”  She left the tent and Zed waived goodnight to her back.  The dots set themselves back up on the screen and slowly knocked themselves back off.

We're in a Dell.

“So let us do real fighting, boring in and gouging, biting.

Let's take a chance now that we have the ball.

Let's forget those fine firm bases in the dreary shell raked spaces,

Let's shoot the works and win! Yes, win it all!”

                                                                   -Gen. George S. Patton

     “As the valiant Conglomeration Marines rally the encircled CEC Security Forces, the formerly tenuous and desperate situation here has evolved from one of rout and pocket, to push and progress.  The Orbital Infantry under Command of Captain Marcus Compton the Third have cleared the peninsula of all rebel forces and, despite the loss of the U.C.S. Righteous to treachery and treason, are poised for a breakout from their beachhead and an almost ordained victory.  I have been Marie Montgomery of the Conglomeration Press Corps.  Goodnight, and God bless the Conglomeration.”  As the segment came to an end, Marcus looked up at her from across his desk.

     “It was a good report Marie.  Factual, exciting, patriotic, just like the last three.  So, do you want to delete this one, or shall I?”  She sighed.  It chapped her ass that she had come all this way for nothing.  She hadn’t written so many useless presentations since the academy, but since she wasn’t a line soldier, she really didn’t have shit else to do. 

     “Go ahead.  No point in letting it linger.  Frees up space for the next batch anyway.”  Marie watched as Marcus hit the delete and “Are you sure” buttons on his display.  Just like that, an entire evenings worth of work vanished.  They were sitting in his field tent approximately twenty miles behind the front line.  Technically they were still in range of any guns the local insurgents might possess, but they had been reluctant to use anything beyond some light mortars when in direct contact.  Despite the lack of big guns on the table, Marcus was sticking to Conglomeration protocol.  The tent was as dark as all others were on the forward operating base.  Only a few red or blue tinted lights allowed the men to read their tablets, going over the plans for the next day.  Marcus tried to give Marie a cheerful smile, the lighting just made his bony face look a little necrotic.

     “I really am sorry about this Marie.  It really is good work.  Considering how bad things started off, you’re making us, and by us I mean me, look competent and almost heroic.  You were definitely the right person for this job.  Unfortunately, until we know what the official line is, we can’t tow it.”  Marie nodded.  She knew that song.  She heard it a lot being a state journalist.

     “Complete blackout.  I know.  I knew there would be some kind of oversight on this one with Antaria in full rebellion, but with half the Righteous slowly burning away in the upper atmosphere and the other half working on settling into its new position as Antaria’s second moon, Fuck all, amirite?”  Marcus summoned a polite chuckle.

     “You, are not wrong.”  He drifted back to his monitor.  They let a silence form and congeal.  She saw his eyes glaze over as he began to fidget.  He had shut down.  Even though they hadn’t been close since their senior year, she still remembered that look.  She didn’t need her base telepathy to know what it meant.  He only ever used to be quiet when he wanted to say something was bothering him.  He never would. 

      “I spent the first six months of our sophomore year breaking you, don’t wall up, people are dying.” He didn’t look up.  She kept staring at him.  “Is it the Righteous?  Is it Antaria?  Focus your mouth hole.”  He started to open his mouth, closed it, opened it again.

     “It’s not Antaria.”  He took a pregnant pause, continued.  “These people, I know they’re traitors.  I know what to expect.  What happened to the ship, its personal, it hurts.  It feels almost like when Karl stole you away from me, when you cheated…”

     “It’s nothing like that you asshole, people are dead.” She blurted. She felt a tinge of guilt that she had deviated from her mission, but he took the tangent first.  “What is happening and keep the broken heart in a separate basket from the bodies”.  

     “Sorry, he said.  “Just, a similar feeling, never mind.  Why do you care?”  He made eye contact.  She had him.

     “Because left to your own devices, you might over think this.  Something went horribly wrong and we need to get it right.  Besides, I can’t do my job right now, so I may as well play shrink.”  She did her best to say “So get on with it” with just her face.  

     “Betrayal is the point.  Think about all the things that would have been required to invert the polarity of the main magnetic drive so that in would push against itself when it was switched to shield mode.  An entire crew would have been required to bypass all the safety measures so that no one, including the main computer would notice.  It would have had to operate normally until such time as the override was needed.  Finally, it would have required either the craftsmanship to remain hidden from inspection, or the high level authorization to keep a blind eye turned.”  He waited to see if she could fit the next part of the story together.

     “You’re thinking the chief Engineer then?” She asked.  He nodded. “Who was he?”

     “Xavier Cawdor.  Nothing too exceptional.  Nothing to raise any immediate red flags.”  He punched a few keys on his monitor, brought up an image on the monitor of a small, ginger haired man of questionable grooming with a slightly charming snaggletoothed grin.  “Born on New Pittsburg, son of the CEO of General Defense Contracting.  Just another child of the gentry sent off to academy to kill time until they get their turn at the family company. Just like you and me and all our friends.  He was on Antaria with us the last go around is the only thing that I figure connects it.  Engineering Corps, spent time preparing infrastructure during the occupation.  Thats it.”

     “Maybe thats it?  If he spent a lot of time with the locals, maybe he became sympathetic? Saw too much, something snapped?”  She shrugged.  She might be able to read a few minds, but it didn’t make her a shrink.

     “I’m not sure.” Marcus continued.  “It still doesn’t seem right.  Something is missing.  The assignment, the timing?  Its too much to do alone.  He still would have had to coordinate with someone on the ground here, and someone else far out in the ether to have the codes and access to know about this mission and what was coming.  There is an intense amount of coordination here.  I just, feel something is still off.  Something that will bite us in the ass if we don’t find it.”

     “Has he been accounted for?” Marie asked.

     “Nope, as much as I’m love to interrogate the bastard.  But seeing as more than half the crew is in the same predicament, I don’t expect he will be.  Marcus stopped and rubbed his eyes.  The clock read 0427, D+4.  They had done a lot of work since they hit the ground.  She hadn’t seen Marcus sleep since they’d landed, but she had been busy too.  They could use some sack time.  But the fires kept popping up.

     “Ugh.”  He bemoaned.  “That tears it, I’m rack bound.  Fuck off for awhile will you?  I’m going to get back up in a couple hours to get ready for the push tomorrow afternoon.  If you want, you can bug Zed, I’m sure he’s up.  You two can brief we when I’m up on everything up the road, k?”  She nodded, pulled stingy out of her back pocket and turned to leave.

     “You run this Cawdor thing by Zed yet?”  She asked?

     “Not yet, its just been zipping around my head.  Put it in his ear.  Maybe he’ll think of something I missed.  Goodnight.  He shut off his terminal and headed to his bunk.  She stepped out, plopped the old green hat on her head and started toward Zed’s tent.  She could see a faint light under his flap.  She put on a fresh smile.  Zed usually had bourbon. 

Planetfall

“I don't know what effect these men will have upon the enemy, but, by God, they frighten me.”

                                                                               -Arthur Wellesly, First Duke of Wellington

        The balloon had gone up at 0500 that morning.  It had promptly caught fire, careened into the rearguard, and proceeded to set off the reserve munitions.  It was a bad morning.  Despite the rapid pace of the advancing chaos, Marie noted, with relief, the orderly manner in which the crew of the Righteous was handling their sudden and unexpected evacuation.

        Back in the Combat Information Center, Marcus had ordered her to stop filming the second the abandon ship order had left his speak hole.  She thought it was funny how quickly he remembered he was being filmed the second his abject failure had become apparent.  Fortunately for her, he wasn’t her commanding officer.  Her father would enjoy seeing him fail, and despite it all, what she had recorded might end up saving Marcus’ career when he faced the inevitable court martial.  Yes, the most expensive, newest, and most powerful ship in the Conglomeration fleet had been lost, but no one could argue that Marcus was responsible.  Sure, no one could say what had even happened, but at least the investigation could skip over human error and right into the nutmeat of why she was currently tumbling arm in arm down a gravityless corridor with Zed and Marcus from either a fiery or vacuous death.  This day was all about surprises.  Hooray, she thought. 

She had been surprised with how Marcus had handled the turd/fan development.  Once the ship was lost she could hear his brain shift gears.  No grinding, no stutter, just a smooth side from killing to saving.  Apparently he had changed a bit since the academy.  The usual noise in his head, the constant self-obsession, the ego, the. . . whatever she heard when he thought of her, gone.  In that sudden moment, the cold calculus of how many men he could get off the ship before the missiles hit, it was utter silence.  Saving lives took concentration.  She didn’t know he had it in him.  She was glad she was wrong.  He had coordinated the evacuation with the section heads he could reach and followed their progress as long as he could before allowing the CiC officers to abandon their posts.  That’s where they were now.  Running from the clock.

“Okay, this is it”.  Marcus said, jolting her back to the here and now.  The blaring alarms and flashing lights reentered her consciousness as she realized she had been editorializing the last few minutes of their adventure.  “Armory is right through here, the gash, right after.”

“Wait, sorry, I wasn’t paying attention, why aren’t we going to the hangar again, or the escape pods?”  Marie interjected.  Zed stopped to look frustrated while Marcus worked on overriding the hatch lock. 

“Escape pods are for the crew,” Zed explained, “The shuttles are all either disembarked or about to, laden with Marines.  No time to do this the easy way, so we’re going down like the ship”.  The hatch slid open and they rushed inside, Marcus was already opening lockers, throwing O.I. armor segments at them

“You know how to put one of these on, right?”  Marie had never heard Marcus talk so fast.  She responded off the cuff

“No, I majored in journalism, remember?” Marcus muttered something she thought was ‘Fuckinggoddamnit’, as he dropped to her feet and began slapping armored bits to her nethers.  “Hey!  What the fuck!”  Marcus stood up and practically shoved his face inside of hers.

“You wanna die?  NO?  Then let me slap some steel on your fucking slit!”  He dropped right back to work, she decided to let it happen.  She turned her attention to Zed.

“Don’t you have it wrong?  I think you mean ‘Down with the ship” YOW!” She yelped as Marcus took her .45 off of her and into her assembled armor pants, directly up her ass.

“Sorry, you don’t want it to melt”.  Marcus said, going back to work, attaching her torso segment. 

“Melt?”  She continued.  “I have no intention of going down with the ship.”  They slapped the helmet over her head completing the job.  Somehow, she noticed, both Zed and Marcus were suited up and had begun herding her towards the door facing the hull breach. 

“You misunderstand Marie,” Zed told her with an amused look on his face.  “Not with, like.”  There was a deep thud as her suit collided with Marcus’.  He gave a sharp wiggle that dragged her with, they had suddenly become attached. 

“I’m slaving your armor’s systems to mine, I’m going to control the reentry and landing procedures for you, okay?”  Marcus asked.

“Huh?”  Was all she could get out.  She noticed the Heads Up Display in her helmet announced her systems had just been overridden.  A quick glance around showed her that her comslip had also been detected by the suits internal communications and was now slaving to her external cameras.  “Well isn’t that nice” She thought.  Marcus looked her in the eye.

“Marie, you ever read Ender’s Game?”  He asked.

“Yes”. She replied. 

“The gate is down”.  He smiled and blew the door into space.

They shot into the dark fast enough that she felt pressure at the back of her suit.  As they tumbled, she saw the extent of the damage.  The aft, they had just left, was rolling slowly, away from Antaria, much of her was dark, but the hangar bays were still launching landers and S-F/A-1 Z class fighters were pouring out of her and running head long into the advancing missile barrage, hoping to catch a few before they sealed the Righteous fate.  The Bow was tumbling wildly, chunks sloughing off as fell planetside.  To her horror she saw the O.I. launchers still spewing their human payload wildly in her erratic orbit.  The computer must not have shut off the procedure when the accident happened, so hundreds or Orbital Infantry Marines would die in space without a hope, or knowledge of their predicament.  Marcus hit their thrusters as the first Missiles impacted on the Righteous and they screamed towards the planet.

*               *               *

The fall had been hot.  The stats on the current Mark VI O.I. armor made them capable of unassisted re-entry, just not good at it.  She had managed not to hurl or go blind, but she was somewhat unhappy about coming into a warzone with the most severe case of swamp ass she had ever experienced. 

Marcus cut her loose a few hundred feet before planetfall and had ignited her thrusters, shunting her forward into something that passed as a controlled gliding descent.  Instead of a violent thunk, she hit with a modestly unpleasant hugrunk that turned into a grinding scrape as she slowed and spun out to a stop.  Marcus and Zed had opted for a more dramatic ballistic landing and they hit simultaneously a few meters apart, both in their best approximation of a Superman tripod landing.  “Pose for style” She said to herself.  Even after all these years, these idiots still have to show off.  They recovered quickly and rushed toward her.  A hard smack to he back of her head took her by surprise as she wheeled around to see a line of muzzle flashes and man shaped silhouettes oriented in their direction.

“Get the fuck down!” Marcus shouted at her over the com, throwing her to the ground.  He operated her armor and opened her backside.

“Hey weirdo!”  She exclaimed!  He promptly shut her butt flap and she turned around to see him checking the load and action of her, Karl’s old .45. 

“You don’t need this yet, I do!”  He said to her, racking the slide and turning to Zed, who was checking the action on the magnetically sheathed forearm sword attached to his right arm.  It moved into a forward extension with a thrust, and rearward with an elbow jab.  “You ready?”  He asked.  Zed nodded.  They both looked forward towards the enemy.

“Hard pounding, gentlemen.”  Marcus said.

“Let’s see who pounds the longest.”  Zed replied.

Their thrusters engaged and within moments they were at the adversary.  Marie had never before seen Orbital Infantry fight.  She had been nearby, in cities close to the fighting, or in the lines as the O.I. were far afield.  What she saw was something more wrathful than the Furies and swifter than the Valkyries as one by one, the flashes winked out.  Marcus had only fired one shot from the .45 before he ripped a heavy machine gun from its emplacement and turned it down the line, slaughtering men in their places with its large caliber projectiles.  Zed brought up the opposite flank, refusing to arm himself from amongst the bodies as he cleaved man after man in twain, severed screaming heads from their owner’s shoulders, and leaving more arms scattered about than a Star Wars film.  A Mk. VI O.I. suit could make a man move three times faster than an unaided man.  She could swear they were moving faster.  The scariest part of it all was how quiet their coms had been.  Not a word needed to pass between them before the guns fell silent and they had begun to rocket hop their way back to her.  “Hot damn”, she thought.  “They never should have been promoted.”  They reached her as a flight of Z’s came in overhead, making a brilliant composition shot for her report.

“That, was. . . That, is going to make a great broadcast for tomorrow.” Was all she could say.

“Wait, when did you start recording again?”  Marcus asked.  She smiled her best “Fuck you kindly” as the coms lit up with the incoming and increasing chatter of the Conglomeration survivors waking up to the battlefield.

Welcome Wagon

“Something must be left to chance; nothing is sure in a sea fight above all.”

                                                -Adm. Horatio Nelson

            The door to the CiC opened and Marie walked in, Karl’s .45 on her hip and Stingy’s beaten and dingy form on her head.  As a mental side note to George R.R. Martin, she didn’t think for one second how her breasts felt underneath her flak jacket.  Her holster was affecting the ride of her pants something fierce, but adjustments could be made discreetly.  General quarters had sounded over a half an hour ago and the command crew was appropriately attired in their deck armor, emergency re-breathers at the ready by their necks.  There was music playing over the action of the human machine before her. She thought it might be Bizet but it could be Berlioz, she mixed them up occasionally, she didn’t know why.  She looked over and saw Zed using his the navigation station as a piano, its surface converted into a representation of ticklish ivories.  It wasn’t regulation, but rank had its privileges, and they weren’t in the combat zone yet.  She smiled until Marcus finally took the time to look up from the central operations display to notice her. 

            “Drop your cover in my ship Commander”.  He went back to looking at the display of the Antarian system on the table display in front of him.  “Well, at least he’s staying professional”, she thought.  She took Stingy off and folded him into her back pocket before stepping up to the command table with Marcus.  She clipped her comslip onto her lapel and set it recording. 

            “Reporting as ordered Captain, you are on the record.  Are we ready to do this?”  Marcus nodded.  He raised a hand to Zed and snapped his fingers.

            “Zed, heads”.  He added a jerking head to the package to imply haste and Zed promptly cut the music and came over to them, his keyboard had returned to its practical state and unnamed crewman #4 slid into the station before the chair had finished swinging back into place.  As soon as they were all in position Marcus began to lay out the relevant facts for the sake of Marie’s viewing public. 

            Here’s the situation.  Antaria, fourth planet of the Antarian system, a holding of the Conglomerated Energies Corporation is in full revolt.  The planetary Governor is missing, presumed dead.  The capital, Caracas, has been occupied by the locals and her planetary guard units, routed.  All surviving units and surviving company employees have fallen back to this position.”  He pointed to a large peninsula that looked a lot like Kamchatka back on earth.  “Antaria, being light on oceans, has no standing navy, so this position is untenable to them as there are no ships coming to evacuate them in a Dunkirk manner.  This is where we come in.  The Righteous’ Orbital Infantry contingent, currently standing by in their drop tubes and landing craft, will make planet fall here, here, and along this line here.”  He pointed to the capital, the center of the Kamchatka pocket, and a line connecting the two.  “From these positions, we will break the encirclement with the Kamchatka and line forces, while the remainder of the units soften up the capital and causeway between for the breakout from the beachhead and combined assault on the capital.  Easy peezy”. 

            Marcus looked up at the assembled faces, wordlessly asking for any questions.  Asking questions being part of her job, Marie obliged. 

           

            “What about the approach to planet?  It seems you’ve glossed over the entire first part of the operation”.  Marcus tilted his head liltingly with an unsure, gritted smirk while Zed simply shrugged.

           

            “Well,” Marcus replied.  “That’s the known unknown of the situation.  We know there is very little likelihood that the rebels on Antaria could have amassed anything that could threaten a Conglomeration warship, much less the Righteous, and we only know what we’ve been getting from our listening post on Antaria’s moon, which isn’t much.”  Zed interjected.

            “As far as they’ve reported, all commercial traffic has stopped, so nothing is going in or out, but everything they’re telling us beyond that is basically ‘It’s fuzzy’.”  Marie gave a little chuckle, looked at both of them like she used to at the academy, like they were just dumb, arrogant shits.

            “Seriously?  All the might of the Conglomeration and you idiots are sliding, confidently, into the largest planetary revolt in over a decade based entirely on ‘It’s fuzzy’?  I’m glad I’ve got this recorded for future posterity.”

            “No worries Marie, she’s the most powerful ship in the fleet.  Nothing can go wrong”.  Zed told her with a slap on the shoulder.  Marcus nodded his agreement.

            “Yes, it will soon be the end of their pitiful band.”  He said.  Marie could feel his internal shit-eating grin in the back of her mind.  “Good guys damnit, good guys!”

            “Sir, coming up on Antaria”.  Generic crewman #2 broke in from a console behind them.

            “Good Mr. Kemerovo,” Marcus replied, turning his attention to the viewer in front of them.  The Battle lights came on and turned the CiC a dim red as the blank screen in front of them resolved in to the large, dingy red ball of Antaria in front of them, he moon was to the upper right corner.  She saw a sliver dot shoot forward from the bow, the light tether that held it to the ship was indiscernible in the vast darkness.

            “Picket probes out sir, data links incoming”. Another generic uniform called out.

            “Good, try and raise the Deputy Governor, let him know we’re here.”  After a few moments, the sallow face of Deputy Governor Schmidt appeared on the screen. He looked like a fly desiccating under a car windshield, and the sound of the nearby war was obvious in its proximity. 

            “Schmidt here Captain, I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you!”  He winced timidly.  The accompanying boom informed of a nearby explosion.  “Please begin your landing.”  Marcus stiffened for a moment.  Marie could sense his self-importance in that second.

            “Just a moment Governor, The Conglomeration is very upset with your Corporations handling of this situation.  I am required by law to inform you that as acting planetary governor, you will be, providing the Governor is in fact dead, held liable for this failure alongside your CEO in answering to the reasons and remedies for this bailout and its possible prevention in its future.  Under the terms of your business license, your company, on return to financial and operational fermity, will pay all applicable fees, penalties, and interest.  Do you agree?

            “Yes, Yes, dear god, yes!  Please, land your men!”  The Governor pleaded.

            “Copy that, stand by.”  Marcus signaled and the feed was cut, returning to the grand view of Antaria.  “Commander Johnston, away all. . . “  He was interrupted before he could finish.

            “Captain, new contacts, bearing 040, elevation 050.  Civilian craft, multiple units approaching our position moon side, weapons signatures detected.”  They all turned their attentions to the viewer again.  Sure enough, they saw a line of mismatched craft moving in loose formation directly towards them.  Trawlers, tugs, stolen yachts, the fleet of a resourceful people Marie thought.  It didn’t make them any less doomed.  She could feel them in her head when she listened closely enough.  There was no fear, but there was no hope either.  They had decided what needed to be done, that feeling made her worry a little.

            “Commander, Let us show them the firepower of this fully armed and operational Battle cruiser!”  Marcus waived to Zed.  Marie looked at Marcus.

            “Really? Palpatine?”  She said.  Marcus shrugged.

            “Ready gravatic cannon!” Zed shouted, the call echoed through the necessary crewmen until the call came back. “Gravatic cannon ready!”  Zed nodded to Marcus.

            “Now watch this”.  Marcus said to Marie while returning the nod to Zed.  He pressed a button on the console next to him.  The ship hummed and the lights on the ship dimmed as a mass of energy drained through and out of her.  Nothing etched its way across the darkness towards the ramshackle fleet.  One second there was a threat, suddenly there was nothing but flakes of debris.  A large cloud from which Marie could sense nothing. 

            “Dear god”.  She whispered.

            “Away all Orbital infantry”.  Marcus ordered.  A soft thrumming began as O.I.’s in their capsules streaked towards the surface and fighter-bombers and landers screamed out of the hull toward their targets on planet.  Marie had no thoughts in that moment.  The sheer horror of what she had see, the simple, casual destruction she had witnessed, decorated with a joke on top, sat heavy on her.  Nothing could describe it.  He reverie was broken by a pestering alarm.  A crewman called out, the same one from earlier about the particle fleet.

            “Sir, we have incoming.  Multiple launch Surface to Space missiles incoming.“  Marcus, content in his confidence shrugged it off.

            “Raise the Magnetic shields.”  He kept his eye on his monitors, watching the numbers tick down, as the Righteous discharged is human payload.

            Suddenly there was a scream in Marie’s head.  A feeling of victory, a screaming hate, and it wasn’t coming from Marcus.  Something was wrong, something had happened, or was about to.

            “STOP”!  She screamed.  But it was too late.  The Crewman activated the shields.

*     *     *

            The lights and electronic displays all went dark.  The gravity plating had shut down leaving them all floating free in the air as they were all thrown violently towards the rear bulkhead as a loud crack, one that might signal Armageddon from a heavenly trumpet, shrieked out throughout the skeleton of the ship. 

After reorienting her body in the tumbling dark, Marie saw the carnage while the systems slowly came back on as the computer figured out what it was still connected to.  A good chunk of the CiC staff was dead, crushed, or smashed open as their frail forms broke on steel.  The rest ambled dizzily back to their stations, the worse for wear.  She saw Marcus and Zed were already up.  Marcus was bleeding from his forehead, and despite the zero gravity, she could see he was favoring his left leg. Zed’s right arm hung limp at his side.  They were staring dumbfounded at a message that had appeared on their table.

“EAT MANY DICKS”.

“Eat many dicks?” What the fuck does that mean?  Right now?” Marie coughed.  It came out a little more panicked that she had expected. 

“How the fuck should I know?!” Marcus snapped. 

“Funny,” Zed said humorously, “Sounds like something Karl would have said.”  Marie’s eyes went wide as her stomach registered her brain falling into it.  Shit. Holy fucking shit, Karl, this, he did this?  Do they know? Can they know?  She was lost in the thought and worried when she saw they were wide eyed too.  In between them a projection appeared of the Righteous.

“No fucking way” Zed said, slack jawed.

“It must have happened after we dropped out of ftl, it’s the only way we wouldn’t have known.”  Marcus replied.

“Someone repolarized the Magnetic drive. . . How?  That’s. . . a lot of work, it can’t happen.”  Zed continued.  Marie looked at the image.  The Righteous had been split in two and both halves were tumbling in space.  Marcus cleared his throat.

“Abandon Ship.”

The Righteous

“I wonder if our politicians, among whom armchair arguments about war are being glibly bandied about in the name of state politics, have confidence as to the final outcome and are prepared to make the necessary sacrifices”

    -Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto.

                  It was quite honestly the ugliest, dumbest, penis compensating thing she had ever seen, and she had been to military school.  Marie Montgomery eyed the Righteous from her approaching shuttle pod with both educated and emotional disdain.  It was a large, shiny thing larger than earth’s Manhattan Island.  It’s lines were supposed to be an intentional throwback to the original, sleek diamond like shape of the old faster than light prototype, Far Star, that Cale Duncan’s socialists first took beyond the Sol System. Another “Fuck you” to the past.  The sharp lines of its intention were obscured by its propulsion nacelles which one could describe as scrotal, and a massive conning tower that brought the whole package together in a StarWarsian Star Destroyer…thing.  If she didn’t know any better she would have guessed its name was something dumb, like “Finalizer”, but since they were the good guys, everyone seemed to ignore the aesthetic obvious.  Emotionally, it turned her stomach because she knew, on board, Marcus was waiting for her.

                  When the airlock cycled to complete the docking procedure, the pressure door slid away to reveal nothing more than the man himself.  Marcus Vladimir Compton the third.  Six feet tall, skinny, and exactly one hundred and sixty pounds of shit meticulously measured into a one hundred and sixty pound bag.  To her friends he was simply “the one who wouldn’t let go”.  Who took every chance to remind her how guilty she should be for the way their relationship ended after the academy, who never missed a chance to kick her when she was down.  Small price to pay in her opinion.  It’s not like she couldn’t give worse than she got.

                  “Hello Commander, I hope your trip was enjoyable?” Marcus asked with spoiled charm.  Marie gave him a polite grimace as she smelled what he as cooking, decided to get the pleasantries over with before the moved into the full unsavory.  She sighed.

“Permission to come aboard Captain?” Marcus gave a sweeping, open handed gesture from high to low, like a diving vulture, she thought.

“Permission granted.”  Marie grabbed her duffel and strode onto the deck. Marcus offered her his arm with the toothy grin she had learned to hate years ago, she returned it with what she considered to be her fifth best ever stink eye.  He dropped his arm and the grin as they fell in step beside themselves.  Marcus refused the awkward silence.

“Fine, be that way, we’ve just been…”

“Be what way?”  Marie snapped back?  “Be incredulous? Be rude?  Reject your faux hospitality? Because I know that not for a second the only thought you’ve had this whole time since you found out I was coming here that you’d be trying to nail me?  That you keep thinking that I’ll somehow after all these years after leaving you for Karl suddenly realize my mistake and come jumping back on it?  I left you because you’re an asshole.  Fuck off.” 

“No,” Marcus retorted, “Why would I think that?  I just thought, with our history and time you’d maybe show some damn respect finally”.  Marie refused to meet his eye, sneered instead, since he was looking.

 “Bull shit.  And why now?  For all I know you are the damn reason I’m here.  Thought going back to Antaria would be the perfect way to slide on into my life again, like some kind of shared experience bonding exercise?  Do you know what this means?  Do you feel how horrible this is? This was the last time…”  This time Marcus cut her off.  His tone told him he’d given up play acting, it was a welcome change.

“Yes, I know.  It was the last time we were all together, you, and I, Karl, Zed.  I know.  It’s not a welcome memory.  Losing Karl…It’s not just about you.  I never stopped being his friend, just yours.  And when they split us all up after the mission ended, I don’t have the words for that lingering hollowness.  Going back is the last thing I want to do, especially with you, if it makes you feel any better”.  Maybe today wasn’t the day she was going to give as well as she got.  She decided to opt out and shut up.  They walked in silence for a long stretch of time.  “Damn this behemoth”, she thought.

“Well, what do you think of my new ship?  First of her class, largest in the fleet, not bad, eh?”  Marcus broke in. It caused Marie to jump a little.  She had almost forgotten they were still walking together. 

“I hate it, It’s ugly, and it puts too much faith in raw power.  This thing wasn’t built with brains, it was a very small dick.”  Marcus surprised her by not disagreeing.

“It’s like Admiral Yamamoto said about the Yamato class ships during World War II,” Marie jumped him again.

“’The fiercest serpent may be overcome by a swarm of ants’, Yes, I know.  You’re not the only one who knows military history fuckstain.”  Boom, comeback!

“Feel better now?” Marcus asked.

“Yes”. She said.  Marcus sighed this time.

“Alright, well, what I was going to say was we will be departing immediately upon my return to the CiC.  You were the reason we were still waiting around in dock.  The long and short of it is, as soon as we get in system, we will cordon off the planet, engage any orbital defenses the rebels have established, and immediately begin a full orbital combat drop to relieve the encircled Planetary Guard.  Should be plenty to cover, I hope your recorder has enough storage, the brass wants a full prop-ed piece on this once it’s all said and done.”

“Encircled? Orbital defense?”  Marie looked at Marcus, confused. “Is it really that far gone?”  Marcus gave a crisp, expressionless nod.

“The Governor and his family have been taken prisoner, the capitol occupied, the defenders about to be driven into the sea…yea, it’s that bad.  Whole damn planet has gone Ape-y this time.”

“Shit.”, was all she could muster.  The stopped in front of the door to what she assumed were her temporary quarters.  “This me?”

“Yes ma’am, everything is all set.  I’ll see you first thing, 0430.  It’s going to happen fast, so, ah, ‘get yo shit on’, as they say.  Goodnight Marie.”

“Goodnight Marcus.”  She said.  Fortunately, Marcus left it at that and spun on his heels and out of there.  She opened the door to a sight she found even more opulent and offensive than the outside of the ship.  All the surfaces were laminated hard oak, translucent stairs up to a second (second!) floor, and even a crystal chandelier in the center of the room.  There was even a kitchen, like she would even think of cooking on this trip.  The Irony of it wasn’t lost on her.  Here they were, on a mission to a planet full of people starving and dying in mines for a brutal regime, in a warship that had crystal chande-fucking-liers in it.  Yeah, we’re the goodies, she thought.  She chucked her bag on the floor and flopped down on the nearest couch.  It wasn’t more than a second before the com patch on her coffee table began to chirp.  She smacked the surface by way of answering it.  She smiled like a Cheshire cat when she saw the familiar face of Zedediah Johnston on the screen smiling back at her.

“ZED! SKEE! Are you here?  Marcus didn’t say you were here!”  Zed shrugged his heavy shoulders and returned the smile.

“Well, shorty, I’m sure he tried, but I bet you were a bitch to him and he got scared, wasn’t ya? Come on now, was you a bitch?”  Marie tried to play coy.

“Mayyybe, but he started it.  What the fuck are you doing here?” Zed pointed to the oak leaf pips on the collar of his uniform. 

“First officer, I’m helping Marcus out on this one.  Apparently the brass thinks we need gotta go back and put our toys away or something, because all the old guys from school are here too, in the Marine detachment.”

“It is turning into quite an out of control development,” Marie said.  “They must be worried, but now I’m starting to worry.  That hole already killed one of us, I guess it hungers again.”

“You thinking about who it’s going to kill this time already?” Zed asked.  Although she had remembered not to spill her secret, Marie couldn’t help but hint.

“I’m mostly hoping that what we buried there, whatever parts of ourselves we left behind, doesn’t end up dragging us all down.”  Because she knew it could.