Theirs Not To Reason Why: An Officer's Duty Part 14

In order to fill these vital positions, the candidate must fulfill the following conditions: They must have served at least one year each in the Army, Navy, Marine Corps, and/or Special Forces. They must be a duly Academy-trained officer of at least one of those Branches. They must have proven their command abilities in a combat tour of duty for at least one Standard year, such as a Border or Blockade position, and they must have proven their command abilities in a training capacity for at least one year, serving at a Camp or an Academy.

Additionally, to be qualified for the position of Admiral-General, the soldier in question must have spent at least one full year as an enlisted soldier in a combat zone, and have earned a Field Commission-this ruling guarantees that our topmost bra.s.s understands what the common soldier is being asked to do by his or her superiors. We don't ever want to make the mistake of those in charge being so far removed from the realities of war that the orders being given are utterly inappropriate for the situations at hand.

Despite the fact that there are literally billions of soldiers serving in the s.p.a.ce Force at any given point in time, there aren't more than maybe ten or fifteen thousand soldiers who qualify on all of these counts, such as having served in all four Branches, and only a few hundred thousand that qualify for three Branches of service, et cetera. If a soldier is particularly good, the officers within that Service Branch aren't going to want to give them up to another Branch. But for those they feel have a solid chance at improving the leadership of the s.p.a.ce Force as a whole, the DoI will watch them very closely, and even aid that particular soldier...in their own, sometimes convoluted way.

~Ia APRIL 3, 2493 T.S.

The beep was hard to hear, but at least she knew when it was coming. Closing her writing station, Ia got up from her bed and crossed to the front door. The noise of the shower pounding away through the closed bathroom door drowned out the faint sound of the panel sliding open. On the other side, waiting for her, the grey-clad, red-haired older woman smiled warmly at Ia.

"h.e.l.lo, Ia."

Ia rolled her eyes and saluted. "Commander."

Commander Christine Benjamin, chaplain and psychologist, saluted her back. "Cadet. So, how have you been?"

"I've been just fine, thank you." Softening her expression into a smile-since she was glad to see the other woman-Ia leaned her shoulder on the doorjamb. "You could even say I've been taking it easy. Mind you, the workload is heavy, but at least no one's trying to kill me, here at the Academy. So, what brings you all the way to Portugal, Bennie? Did you have a good flight?"

"As good as could be expected. In their infinite wisdom, my superiors figured I could use at least one tour of duty planet-side at this point in time," she explained. She gestured at the room, and Ia obediently stepped back, letting her enter. Once inside, Bennie looked around, nodded in satisfaction at the neatly organized quarters, and borrowed the chair from Ia's desk. Unb.u.t.toning the jacket of her Dress Greys, she seated herself and propped her feet up on the foot of Ia's bed. "Your bed's a mess. You should neaten that up before Inspection."

"For one, it's Sunday, and that means there's no inspection until tomorrow morning. For another, I was sitting on it just now. Do you want anything to drink?" Ia offered, gesturing at the caf' dispenser above her desk.

Bennie shook her head. Ia smiled ruefully and returned to her place at the head of the bed. She knew the outcome of this conversation-mostly, save for whatever input her temporally mysterious roommate might add-but she still had to make a show of ignorance. Pushing aside her writing pad, she settled against the pillows.

"Let me guess," Ia murmured. "Since you were in the vicinity, you decided to drop in and check up on an old friend while en route to your new station, right?"

"This is my new station," Bennie corrected her. "And you're not that old-by the way, happy birthday in advance. It's tomorrow, isn't it?"

"You're a month late. My birthday's March 4th, not April 4th," Ia told her.

"Ah. Well, happy birthday anyway," Bennie amended. "The Chaplaincy Division figures someone with my experience at counseling active-duty soldiers will 'hopefully be able to prepare these up-and-coming young officers for the rigors, trials, and tribulations of real-world command.' Presuming, of course, that I turn out to be well-suited to dealing with a bunch of cadets. I've been told it requires a somewhat different skill set than tending to the religious and mental needs of a Border ship-I trust having me back in your life for a little while isn't going to drive you mad?"

Ia snorted. Leaning forward, she wrapped her arms around her knees and gave the older woman a wry, borderline sardonic look. "Not at all. I like you. But I do have the sudden impression of a dozen sticky DoI fingerprints all over this situation, and that might drive me mad."

Bennie laughed at that. She slouched a little bit more in the chair, lacing her fingers across her silver grey dress shirt. "You always did have a keen, quick grasp of a situation. Yes, they want me to keep an eye on you in specific while I'm here. I am to gauge your 'suitability for continued service in stressful situations' or some such rot."

Ia sighed and sat back with a faint smile, satisfied. "Blockade Patrol." She broadened her smile at the chaplain's surprised look. "As you yourself said, Bennie, I have a keen grasp of the situation. I am provably stable in moderate combat zones. The s.p.a.ce Force is desperate for soldiers who can withstand the rigors of a truly heavy combat zone. If I can handle Blockade duty as well as I handled the Border, then they'll want me to handle it."

"And you don't mind?" Bennie asked her. The sound of the shower cut off in the bathroom.

"I can probably do a lot of good on a Blockade post," Ia admitted. "I'm looking forward to it."

"It's good to hear your confidence in your own abilities. But do you really think you can handle the stress? Even in a hot spot Border zone like the Liu Ji traveled, the potential for combat is only once or twice a week," Bennie said. "Blockade, it's once and twice and even more, each and every day. However much the politicians may try to whitewash it, the Blockade Zone is a war zone."

Ia smiled wryly. "Well, I guess it looks like I'll find out. Think they'll drag you along with me?"

It was Bennie's turn to smile wryly. "Now that, I don't know. I guess we'll see-oh, that reminds me, Sergeant Spyder says h.e.l.lo. Or rather, he says...let me see if I can get this right... 'Why doncha say 'ello t' the li'l white dove fer me, eh? Tell 'er we're missin' our b.l.o.o.d.y-winged cardinal a' doom, an' if she ever gets rea.s.signed t' the Liu Ji-though she's a right b.l.o.o.d.y traitor, skippin' out onna Marines like that-tell 'er she's gotta blow us grunts a liddle kiss fer good luck, eh?'"

With just the first sentence, Bennie's rather mangled version of her old Company mate's accent reduced Ia to giggles. The bathroom door slid open, and her roommate poked his damp head through the opening. The rest of him followed, equally bare and damp, save for the white towel wrapped haphazardly around his hips. Ia, still guffawing, choked on her own spit at his appearance.

"My G.o.d, Ia, you're actually laughing?" he exclaimed, staring at Ia. It took him a few steps forward to realize there was another woman in the room, and a stumbled half step after that to realize she was an officer. "Wha-Oh, my g-Sir!"

Snapping to Attention, he saluted-and broke the salute awkwardly, grabbing at the hem of the towel. Cheeks pink, he straightened and resumed the salute, free hand clutching his only covering carefully in place.

He also wasn't the only one who blushed. Bennie did a double-take, looking back at his state of undress, then glanced back at Ia, who was wide-eyed and red-faced. At the speculative lift of the chaplain's brows, Ia groaned and hid her face in her hands. Chuckling, Bennie addressed Harper.

"At Ease, Cadet. This is just an informal visit. Feel free to, ah, go about your business or whatever."

Ia peeked between her fingers, mortified at the amus.e.m.e.nt coloring Bennie's tone. The older woman was smiling at her roommate. Still flushed, he edged over to his wardrobe drawers and quickly grabbed a set of clothes, then retreated back to the bathroom for the privacy to change. She couldn't blame him. Under normal circ.u.mstances, neither of them had been very body-conscious. They didn't exactly lounge around naked, but neither had hesitated to strip or dress in front of the other. This, however, was not exactly a normal circ.u.mstance.

The moment the bathroom door shut, Bennie let out a rush of breath. "V'dayamn-and I'll say penance for swearing later-but that cadet has some rather nice muscles on him. What does he do, lift weights in his spare time?"

Face still a bit warm, Ia slid her hands from her face, crossing her arms. "More like a weight suit. He's a heavyworlder. Dabin, 1.85Gs. His mother's been stationed there with the Joint Human Research & Development Corps from before he was conceived. He said her superiors were glad she got pregnant on a heavyworld, since that gave them that much more excuse to keep her working on various R&D collaborations with the V'Dan military. Apparently she's some sort of mechanical genius, and it looks like her son's taking after her."

"Oh? How so?" Bennie asked.

Ia nodded at the closed door. "He's managed some rather amazing off-the-cuff repairs on board the da Gama, our simulation ship. I'd suggest to the DoI the idea of sending him out either to a deep s.p.a.ce survey ship or to a Border Patrol. Anywhere that needs a competent officer in charge of quick and dirty repairs."

"Border, but not a Blockade Patrol?" Bennie asked, glancing over her shoulder at the door. She looked back at Ia. "Wouldn't you want him on your own ship, if he's that good at making things work?"

Unbidden, another blush warmed her face. "I really don't think that would be necessary..."

The chaplain scooted up a little in her seat, green eyes narrowing. "Ia...are you attracted to him?"

Her cheeks burned. Bennie widened her eyes, then started to snicker. Ia glared. The other woman's mirth morphed quickly into outright giggles, including a few undignified snorts.

"It is not that funny, Bennie," Ia hissed under her breath, embarra.s.sed further by the thought that Harper might be listening to the two of them through the bathroom door.

"Oh, yes it is!" Bennie squeaked, bright red from her half-suppressed laughter.

Oddly enough, that killed her urge to blush. Sobering, Ia settled a stern look on her friend. "No, it isn't. Nothing will happen between us. We are fellow cadets and roommates. Nothing more."

Settling down a little, Bennie wiped at the corners of her eyes with the edge of her hand. "Pity. But that situation can change. After you graduate...Wait, is he on a fast-track program like you? Or...?"

"He's fast-track like me, but as soon as I get out of here, I go off to my pilot certification cla.s.ses, and he goes off to wherever the military sends him." Sobered-even slightly depressed-Ia sighed. "Bennie, he's a good friend. I do like him. But that's all it's going to be. Now, can we change the subject? In case he feels trapped in there, wondering what we're talking about behind his back?"

"Oh, fine. Spoil my good mood," Bennie teased. She quickly lifted a hand at Ia's pointed look. "Okay, okay...Tell me what life is like, here at the Academy."

Glad for the change in topic, Ia obeyed. A few seconds later, a remarkably calm-looking Meyun emerged from the bathroom, neatly dressed in his cadet blues. She broke off long enough to formally introduce the two, then went back to telling Bennie about life at the Academia de Marinha Estrelas. Apparently deciding the previous incident was being politely forgotten, he grabbed the chair from his desk, straddled the back of it, and joined the conversation.

It did not escape Ia's notice that Chaplain Benjamin subtly interrogated Cadet Harper about himself and his opinions of Ia. It also did not escape her notice that Harper interrogated Bennie just as subtly about her opinions of Ia, and Bennie's memories of her days on board the Liu Ji.

They were in the middle of discussing one of the Liu Ji's many escapades when the doorbell buzzed again. Sighing, Ia rose from the bed, gesturing for Harper to sit back down. "Keep talking, I've got this."

Crossing to the door, she palmed it open. And stared. Stared, and glanced sharply over her shoulder before looking back at the short, brown-uniformed man waiting in the hallway. This, she had not foreseen.

"What the slagging h.e.l.l is this?" Ia finally demanded, eyeing the man in front of her. "Old home week?-Please, Sergeant, come in and be welcome. I'm just going to bang my head against the wall here for a few minutes while the three of you make the necessary introductions..."

"What the h.e.l.l are you going on about, Cadet Ia?" Sergeant Tae ordered.

"Uncle!" Bounding up from his chair, Meyun hurried to greet the shorter man. Ia flattened herself against the bathroom door, astonished to see her former chief drill instructor grinning and embracing her roommate. Harper even picked up the stout Marine a few inches as they hugged, then set him back on his feet. "You said you weren't sure if you'd be able to drop by on your way to London!"

"Well, here I am. Now what the h.e.l.l are you doing with this pain in the asteroid in your quarters?" Tae asked, poking his thumb at Ia.

"I told you, she's my roommate," Meyun said.

"No, you told me she was your cla.s.smate," Tae countered.

"Well, I'm sorry the exact terminology slipped my mind, Uncle." Meyun paused and looked between the two of them. "How about you telling me how you know her? Or rather, how she knows you?"

Ia recovered her voice, glancing at Harper. "This is your uncle?"

"Yes, this is my uncle," her roommate confirmed. "Uncle, this is Cadet Ia. Ia, this is Master Sergeant Ulliong Tae, TUPSF-Marine Corps," he stated, gesturing between the two of them.

Squaring her shoulders, Ia nodded politely at her former drill sergeant. "Congratulations on your promotion, Master Sergeant."

"Thank you, Cadet," Tae replied just as politely. "Congratulations on your Field Commission."

"Thank you, Sergeant." She fell silent, feeling a bit awkward at having been caught unawares. Not that it's been the first time. And I should've realized why; anything to do with Meyun, here, has a bad habit of not showing up on my precognitive radar...

A throat cleared itself from further in the room. Ia quickly mended the breach, gesturing for both males to finish entering the room.

"Ah, Sergeant, this is Commander Christine Benjamin, Special Forces Chaplaincy Division, formerly a.s.signed to the same ship and Border Patrol as myself. Bennie, this is Master Sergeant Ulliong Tae, my former drill instructor from Marines Basic...and apparently my roommate's uncle."

The pair saluted politely, Bennie sitting up a bit straighter in her chair. Meyun offered his chair to his uncle, dropping onto his bed for a seat. Ia resettled onto hers. She felt a little awkward in doing so, given the surprise of her old drill instructor's visit and his connection to her blank spot of a roommate. Glancing from face to face, Bennie cleared her throat.

"I have a suggestion. Why don't Ia and I take a tour of the Academy grounds while the two of you catch up? I'm going to be stationed here, so I can always chat with you later, Cadet Harper," she offered politely.

Tae glanced between her and Ia. "Actually, sir, I wouldn't mind hearing about Ia's time in the Corps, and your impressions of her. It's not often a drill instructor gets to hear firsthand accounts of how his charges fare long after they leave Basic. Particularly in a military the size of the s.p.a.ce Force."

Ia rolled her eyes. "Honestly, you don't have to dissect every little thing I have done. Particularly not in front of me. I'm not that special."

"You may be a cadet when you're on the clock, and thus an officer in training," Tae told her, "but a drill instructor always outranks a former recruit off the clock. And I really do want to know. I always imagined you'd do me proud...if you ever learned your own limitations."

Bennie glanced at Tae, then looked at Ia. "Wait-you said Sergeant Spyder went through Basic with you. Would that mean Sergeant Tae knows him?"

"You're telling me that Recruit Spyder made it all the way up to Sergeant?" Tae asked, raising his brows in surprise. "That green-haired, tangle-tongued...?"

"Sergeant, yes, Sergeant. He even led Ferrar's Fighters in the rescue invasion at Zubeneschamali, with their full confidence in him," Ia bragged, grateful for the excuse of being able to talk about someone else for a change. "He was the senior-most of the few sergeants who hadn't been kidnapped, and the one with the most boarding party experience, both with Ferrar's Fighters and his previous Company. I gave him the layout of the place, discussed several options, and put him in charge of carrying it out-and I'll tell you, he saved our hides in record time. We got pinned down in this big room with no way out, until Spyder and the rest broke through the enemy's forces."

"Yes, he has handled himself very admirably, Sergeant," Bennie added. "If he'd had a full year of noncomm experience under his belt, I'd have nominated him for a Field Commission, and I'm outside the normal chain of command."

Ia nodded in agreement, glad her friend was getting the recognition he was due. "That's pretty much all he was missing. Here-there's even a song in the Corps about him."

"A song?" Tae asked, lifting one brow. "Recruit Spyder ranks a Marines song? This, I gotta hear."

"A song?" Meyun repeated, giving the trio a bemused look.

"It's a Marines thing," Ia rea.s.sured him. "Marines sing, and make up songs about each other."

"It's to the tune of the Itsy Bitsy Spider," Bennie warned him, grinning. "It's not much of a song, but he did get one, and it has circulated all over the Liu Ji's patrol route."

She gestured at Ia, who launched into the tune, replete with Spyder's mining colony accent.

Th' itsy bitsy Spyder, 'e climbed into th' ship, 'E knew it was the Salik from how th' ceilin' dripped!

'E loaded up 'is weapons an' leaped into th' fray, An' th' itsy bitsy Spyder, 'e blew their brains away!

Tae blinked, winced, and started laughing. "That's too funny! If your voice were just a little deeper, you'd even sound like him, Rec...Cadet."

Harper grinned as well. "So what other stories have you got for us?"

Ia and Bennie smirked at each other and started compiling a verbal list for both men.

MAY 27, 2493 T.S.

The steady thoom thoom thoom of rapidly running mechsuit legs echoed across the confidence course. Her inner thighs always chafed a little bit when she did this, but that was as much the fault of the body-hugging pressure suit she wore beneath the ceristeel plates as the need for the slightly waddling movements required by the bulk of the machinery itself. Ia was used to it, though, and ran with almost the same ease she would have used without her burden.

Leaping for the cover afforded by a low bluff, she tumbled over one round-planted shoulder, spun, and aimed the black-painted rifle in her grip at the target, just barely visible through the trees. The beam of light was difficult to see in the bright light of day, since the e-clip powering the laser had been fitted with a calorie restrictor chip, but the heads-up display flickering across the inner curve of her faceplate let her know she had scored an accurate enough hit. The holographic, vaguely humanoid-shaped target darkened on the left arm. Not a vital hit, but enough to temporarily incapacitate it.

She could have aimed a little better, but not today. Today, Ia was holding back on the confidence course. Launching herself away from the berm of gra.s.s and earth, she sprinted for the next obstacle, shooting on the run at the other targets. She clipped two more enough to incapacitate, and scored killing blows on the last three.

Dodging through the maze of wooden logs, she used their scant cover at the end to crouch low and take potshots at the hologram of an enemy vehicle. Two, three shots scored deeply enough into one wheel well to sever a lubricant pipe. The rest knocked out the illusionary enemies scrambling to organize themselves in a semblance of counterattack and defense. After the eighth volley, she leaped forward, firing one more shot to knock down the last simulation. Hooking a servo-hand around another log at the end of the course, she used it to swing herself around and sprint back down toward the finish zone.

The confidence course and its obstacles were squeezed into a crowded, back-and-forth pattern between two long, high walls on which some of the holographic scenery for the current training simulation was being projected. Ignoring the rope swing-the weight of her and her suit, hitting the rope at that speed, would have ripped it from its frame-she leaped over the mud pit, clearing it by a meter and a half from sheer power-a.s.sisted momentum. Ia dodged a fake hand grenade and sprinted over the last dozen meters of trampled dirt, until she dropped back into the bunker where everything had begun.

Thud.

Panting inside her suit, Ia took the time to power down her mechsuit-sized rifle, stripped the energy clip from the b.u.t.t of it, and returned both to their storage lockers. Only when the lockers, one for rifles and one for calorie-restricted e-clips, were sealed tight did she turn around and slap the red b.u.t.ton on the bunker wall, ending the simulation run. Lights on the course outside flashed amber for ten seconds, then glowed green for five more and shut off, removing all the holograms.

The display board totaled the number of obstacles successfully navigated, enemies killed, incapacitated, or still capable of combat, objectives achieved and objectives missed, ending with a number that wasn't quite 85 percent of her best run to date. Solidly in the mediocre, for me. Satisfied, Ia relaxed.

With the course both cleared and shut down, Ia unsealed her faceplate, sucking in the warm, pre-summer air. Unlocking the exit door of the bunker, she eased her bulky, mechsuited body up the stairs, emerging in the sunlight to an audience of observers. A few clapped in applause, but the rest gave her performance wry looks at best. Several of the other cadets formed up and jogged down the stairs, taking her place in the bunker for their own run.

Others at the Academy might choose to run the obstacle course as a part of their daily exercise regimen, but at the moment, Ia was the only one who ran it in a mechsuit. That meant she had to run it alone to avoid accidentally injuring a fellow cadet. She didn't mind, though; the lack of others on the course meant that she could split her attention between carrying out the familiar tasks of mock-combat and skimming the timelines, practicing her battlecognition.

Two people hung back in the viewing stands. One was Chaplain Benjamin; the other was a commodore, the one-star equivalent of a brigadier general. The commodore moved to intercept Ia. Bennie followed, her expression sober.

Since he was wearing his Dress Blues cap, Ia saluted him, servo-arm whining faintly as she lifted its mechanical fingers to her helm-bubbled brow. "Commodore, sir."

"Cadet Ia, this is Commodore Hadrabas," Bennie introduced quickly. "Commodore, this is Cadet Ia."

He saluted her back, then dropped his hands to his blue-clad hips. "So, you're the infamous Cadet Ia. I didn't know you could run the confidence course so...quickly."

Considering it wasn't her speed she had slacked on, Ia shrugged inside her suit. The joints and servos hummed quietly, copying the action externally. "I've had better days, sir. And worse days. Can I help you, sir?"

"Yes, actually. The Command Staff is thinking of fielding a number of Service personnel for the 2494 Alliance Winter Olympics. Can you ski?" he asked bluntly.

"No, sir...and if you are thinking of suggesting I learn in order to compete in the biathlon, sir, I would like to point out there are many, many more personnel in the s.p.a.ce Force who shoot far better than I can, and already know how to ski," she countered firmly. This is indeed what I thought it was going to be. Time to nip this firmly in the bud. "Not to mention it would become a public relations disaster if you attempted to order me to learn and partic.i.p.ate anyway, sir."