“What does Charlie Echo call us?”
“Situations.”
Staff Sergeant Eleni Volyk, 29 Turian, scoffed. “That’s shit.”
“I actually like it,” Master Sergeant Julian Seldin, 41 Human, replied. “I’ve been called worse.”
The two commandos could see a Human marine, in his full combat armour with shielding off, carry a crate nearly as tall as he was. The crate had the Commonwealth Defence Force general insignia on it. The marine had to take it in from the Kallara parked outside. The marine’s form was right, but he could barely see over the top of the crate. The marine’s rifle was holstered on his back.
“Poor guy,” Volyk said to herself.
“Let’s help him out,” Seldin said. This wasn’t a suggestion; this was his order.
The two commandos were in the white and green armour of Army soldiers instead of the dark blue of marines (and sailors).
This was a Taskforce Hazelflare Humanitarian Relief Outpost (HRO). While it flew the flag of the Commonwealth of Andromeda, it was not under the operational command—or even affiliated—with the Commonwealth Expeditionary Force, Telloh. Yes, both were staffed with Commonwealth military personnel and both flew the same flags, wore the same insignia, and even used the same equipment.
However, CEF, Telloh was staffed by Commonwealth Defence Force, New Lederen personnel. This was a unitary operation done without the agreement of the other Commonwealth Associations—and was purely in the interest of the Commonwealth Association of Lederen States.
On the other hand, Taskforce Hazelflare was sent by the CDF, New Canaan and CDF, Adria (respectively on behalf of the Commonwealth Association of Democratic Socialist States and the Commonwealth Association of Independent States) to preserve the Commonwealth’s overall reputation of respect for Galactic Andromedan Union rules and determinations. Since New Lederen was abdicating all responsibilities as the Commonwealth representative for the Joint Mandatory Anash Government (JMAG), New Canaan was going to assume responsibility—and controversially, this included defence of JMAG land.
The biggest sticking point between CALS and the other two associations was the appointment of Rear Admiral Sharon Tyrali CN, of CDF, Psara (a CADS nation) as Acting Chief of the General Staff of the Joint Mandatory Anash Defence Force (JMADF). She was to maintain her Commonwealth Navy rank as she commanded JMADF forces.
While CEF, Telloh’s identified opponent was the Janipo Liberation Army, the JMADF was a target as they defended Joint Mandatory Anash’s sovereignty. At times, TF Hazelflare would grow a bit too close to the JMADF.
None of that mattered to MSGT Seldin when he approached the junior NCO standing by the opened back of a Commonwealth Navy Kallara transport truck.
“Happy to lend a hand,” Seldin offered.
“Thanks, but that was the last box,” the marine replied.
Seldin nodded. “Well, if you need a hand, my commandos are free.”
“Thank you.”
Technical Sergeant Henrik Kali, 36 Turian, was surprised to not find his two comrades waiting behind the medical tent. He easily spotted the two Army soldiers’ armour through an office window.
“Did I miss something?” Kali asked Volyk.
“No. Julian wants to help move some boxes.”
Seldin returned to his squad mates. “They’re just done.”
“Tired of standing around and looking sexy?” Kali taunted his operations sergeant.
Seldin laughed. He had to exaggerate it in case his helmet microphone did not capture it well. “No, no. I’m thankful for quiet jobs, but if you wanted commando armour standing around, they could have gotten mannequins.”
“They would cost less,” Volyk added.
“Exactly. And I’ve only seen an idle commando when they’re sleeping.”
Kali shook his head. “I’m just happy we can wear our armour again.”
The three commandos were the only special forces operators attached to the HRO. They were part of the security element. After a TF Hazelflare marine officer was shot and critically injured by an unidentified sniper, more people with guns were needed. All outposts were also moved from green reserves and car parks to commandeered buildings. This particular outpost was inside a disused local government office.
Since the marines handled intake of civilians, ensuring none were armed or had a bomb. The marines also had automatic turrets and armed LOKI meches as well as marines forming perimeter security. The commandos were very much just lounging around with their guns on their backs.
Seldin, Kali, and Volyk were not ordinary commandos—assuming a commando can be ordinary. While other TF Hazelflare commandos were on active duty, the trio (and the rest of their squad) were retained reservists hired by TF Hazelflare as Commonwealth mercenaries.
All this meant was that they didn’t have to answer to anyone but their Boss, and they could see TF Hazelflare facilities. They were even paid just as well as when they were on active service. This work also counted towards their military service. It was also cheaper for TF Hazelflare to hire them than to deploy three active duty commandos.
However, only those commandos knew of this arrangement. To the marines and any unfortunate combatant to meet the commandos in battle, these commandos wore the same armour and used the same guns as any other TF Hazelflare commando—and CEF, Telloh commando.
Lieutenant Albert Lodge CN, 28 Human, didn’t even know he had commandos under his command until the chief petty officer told him. Even with that knowledge, Lodge was not left uneasy by their presence. Seldin asked Lodge where he would like the commandos, and Lodge said they could stick together and patrol the main floor. Their job was to look visible to the civilians, given they’re the only ones in Commonwealth Army armour. After all, the civilians of Pecker’s Field have already figured out that if they needed help, the Commonwealth soldiers in blue armour were friendlier.
However, there was one other person in Army armour. Captain Jeannette Tenzer CA, 27 Human, was the outsider—she was not from Taskforce Hazelflare; she was from CEF, Telloh. She was the liaison officer whose job was to make sure the HRO does not serve any military purpose for the JMADF or, god forbid, the JLA.
She felt like an outsider. She arrived at the outpost via a Commonwealth Army Kodiak from CEF, Telloh. Usually, she would have a liaison assistant—a Sergeant or Staff Sergeant—join her, but her designated liaison assistant came down with water flu. Luckily for Tenzer, this only impacted Turians. Unfortunately, this meant the backup liaison assistant was also sick.
Tenzer’s superior requested that the HRO be delayed so they could find a liaison NCO. However, TF Hazelflare’s command-level liaison warned that the HRO was opening with or without a CEF, Telloh liaison—delaying a HRO because of a sick NCO was the sort of bullshit TF Hazelflare no longer entertained. Tenzer’s superior made the assessment that this was a low-risk liaison role, so Tenzer was dropped off at the HRO alone.
She kept herself by LT Lodge. Aside from being the commander of the outpost, Tenzer knew his name from her briefing. Every other Commonwealth soldier at the HRO were, at best, strangers or—at worse—people who had a reason to hate CEF, Telloh’s heavy-handed approach to the JMADF and disregard for Pecker’s Field civilians.
Tenzer had been watching each civilian come in. It was a genuine mix of Humans, Turians, Quarians, and Salarians. There was one Asari. Some families brought their children with them. They were here for the free and packaged food. It was ready-to-eat, but for those not hungry, they could easily stow it away for another day. The food packets had the Commonwealth Defence Force symbol on them.
Other families came for the free clothes. In a wise move, these clothes lacked any logos or insignia. Thanks to poor estimates, there were too many Turian clothes but not enough Human clothing. They came in all sizes. No-one questioned when a lone mother asked for some child-sized clothing to take home.
The HRO functioned like a supermarket. It had food, clothes, condoms, sanitary products, batteries, and more. Yet, they did not ask for payment. It was the abundance of help that drove people—who just yesterday witnessed a Commonwealth Army patrol enter a shootout with JLA militants outside the closed school—to visit a Commonwealth outpost. They had to suppress the instinct to approach armed Commonwealth soldiers, and they were well-rewarded. Even more so due to scarcity. All batteries, milk, and condoms were gone soon after the outpost opened.
For most people, the longest part was the line in and the security checks by the marines at the perimeter. The people just needed to get their goods, give their thanks, and leave. The longer-term guests were those here for medical assistance.
Assigned to the HRO was one general practitioner, one dentist, one nurse, and three medical assistants. All of them were military personnel. They still wore their service branch’s combat uniform, but they did not wear combat armour. Instead, they were protected by armoured vests and self-contained shielding units. They were all unarmed and wore red crosses on white bands. For all the bad things JMADF soldiers have said about CEF, Telloh, at least they respected JMADF medics. Additionally, a military doctor was much more approachable when in ordinary combat uniform rather than combat armour—it was easier for both the doctor and the civilian to see each other.
Lodge nodded. “Thank you, as you were.” He tapped the toggle on his helmet, turning off his radio connection. He could see CAPT Tenzer watching him. “The perimeter sentries just turned away someone with JLA connections.”
“Good,” Tenzer replied. “Thank you for letting me know.”
“You’re free to walk around the outpost. I will ask a marine to accompany you, but you don’t need to stay with me for the whole day.”
“Thank you. I’m aware, but I think it’s best if I stay with you.”
Lodge set up a small command post on the second floor of the office building. Below them was where most of the work was being done. When Lodge conducted an inspection of the outpost, Tenzer joined him and saw the outpost’s work firsthand.
“I don’t want to put off your soldiers with my presence,” Tenzer continued.
Despite her best intentions, Lodge didn’t want Tenzer watching him so closely. While Tenzer was outside of Lodge’s chain of command, Lodge wanted him and his soldiers to impress Tenzer—or at least let her go back to CEF, Telloh with a good impression.
In the same vein, Tenzer didn’t want to worsen the already heated relationship between TF Hazelflare and CEF, Telloh. She had to think twice before she spoke. She had been averting her gaze whenever a marine looked back at her. She accepted that despite being an observer, she wasn’t free to observe.
Neither officer noticed that the other was too busy to keep a careful eye on them.
“I understand,” Lodge replied. “Look, I know my marines won’t say it, but I do think it’s good you’re here.”
Tenzer looked at Lodge. Through their visors, she knew she was making eye contact.
“The last thing me or my marines want to do is fight Commonwealth troopers,” Lodge continued.
Tenzer nodded. “Thank you. I wish all of your colleagues thought the same.” Tenzer tensed up. She shouldn’t have said that.
“What do you mean?” Lodge asked.
“Well, uh…” There was no dodging this. “I’ll admit that these are rumours, but a lot of people on my side believe Hazelflare was behind La Tora.”
La Tora was an embarrassment. Just five days ago, JMADF guerillas—and based on intercepted communications, TF Hazelflare commandos in unmarked black armour—assaulted and ransacked a poorly guarded military base deep in CEF, Telloh–held territory. CEF, Telloh command was currently figuring out what happened to over 24 missing personnel taken as prisoners… and how to retaliate.
“I’m genuinely worried that this might cause Hazelflare to be marked as an enemy,” Tenzer added.
For Lodge, this was the first time he heard of the brazen attack—he did not pay attention to JMADF or CEF, Telloh propaganda. “I wouldn’t know anything about that,” he calmly said. “My marines and I are just here to help the civilians.”
“And I hope you keep going. I just don’t know if the powers that be will let you,” Tenzer replied.
Lodge smiled beneath his helmet. “We’re here now.”
Both Kali and Volyk could see Seldin observing a marine guide a young Human boy to a table where there was a bowl of candy. The marine encouraged the child to take one. When the child asked if he could take another one for his sister, the marine gleefully gave him the go-ahead.
What Kali and Volyk didn’t know was how Seldin would react. He could be in favour of it as a genuine act of kindness. Maybe he wished he could tend to the unguarded table with the candy bowl. Or maybe he just wanted one of those high-energy sweets for himself without using up his all-day rations. There’s always some candy in a standard Army ration pack—it’s fast energy and it lifts morale.
“It’s good, but surely that kid knows not to take candy from a stranger,” Seldin said.
“Even if the stranger is a marine?” Kali replied.
Volyk laughed to herself. “I wouldn’t take candy from a marine.”
“No, I mean from anyone,” Seldin said. “You don’t take candy from a stranger.”
“Why not?” Volyk playfully asked. “I’ll take free candy.”
“No, you—” Seldin composed himself. “Have you not been taught that when you were a kid?”
“Why only candy?” Volyk added.
“No, not only candy.” Seldin was smiling underneath his helmet.
“I was taught not to talk to strangers when I was young,” Kali replied.
“And bad people lure kids in with candy,” Seldin explained. “Really, you weren’t told this?”
Volyk laughed. “Hey, candy is candy.”
“So would you accept a cup of tea from a stranger?” Kali wondered.
“Well, in a cafe, yes, but in the middle—”
Thumps—they all heard thumps. It wasn’t loud. It was hard to determine which direction it came from. However, they all knew they heard something.
The three commandos all had their hands on their weapons. Seldin, as the senior commando, was listening to the command net.
“All stations, this is Hotel Charlie Sunray. Possible external incident,” Lodge announced over the command net. He muted his microphone. “Moore, patch to Command.” He gave the marine a second to make the switch. The marine nodded when he was done. “Say: we’re hearing impacts near our location. Confirm no fire scheduled near my grid.”
Able Sailor Moore worked quickly. He promptly repeated Lodge’s message.
“Are there any Charlie Echo activity in this sector?” Lodge asked Tenzer.
“None that I know of. I’ll check,” she replied. Without a radio operator, Tenzer needed to talk to her command by herself.
“Hotel Charlie Sunray, Horizon Zero,” the duty officer said to Moore and Lodge. “Confirm no fire scheduled near your grid. Advise: route via my liaison or do you have one attached?”
“Say: affirmative, we have a liaison attached,” Lodge instructed Moore. He turned back to Tenzer. “Well?” When he didn’t get a response, he spoke firmly. “Tenzer?”
“Negative. I’ll let Hotel know,” Tenzer said into her radio. She keyed her mic. “Friendly security forces are making a surprise raid on a suspected JLA safehouse around one click from here. My command is asking that you close this HRO.”
All Lodge could do was stare at Tenzer. “I can only close this outpost when we run out of supplies, or when it becomes too unsafe for civilians. Do your forces know about this outpost?”
“Yes. I’ll remind them about our location,” Tenzer replied.
“Standby,” Moore said back. He looked at Lodge. “Lieutenant, Hotel Zulu Sunray patching in.”
“I’ll talk,” Lodge told Moore. He toggled his mic. “Hotel Zulu Sunray, go ahead.”
“We’re hearing some activity to our west, likely near your grid. Confirm your threat level.”
“Threat level Yellow. My liaison said that it’s a Charlie Echo raid. I recommend you have your liaison contact Charlie Echo command.”
“Copy. We’ll be Yellow. Hotel Zulu Sunray, out.”
Lodge kept his eye on Moore. “Switch me to all stations.” It was a simple flick for Moore. “All stations, this is Hotel Charlie Sunray. Charlie Echo activity one click out. They’re not for us. Threat level Yellow. Continue operations with caution.”
“Copy,” the platoon commander replied over the radio.
“Copy,” a marine NCO added.
“Copy,” Seldin said. He looked at his two commandos. “Charlie Echo activity,” he explained. “Just be careful in case they get too close.”
Both Kali and Volyk could see the Army trooper raise his camera and snap a photo. This trooper was not in combat armour; he wore an armoured vest and self-contained shielding. It didn’t even look like he had a weapon on him.
“What is it?” Seldin beckoned.
“Nothing, Master Sergeant. I just thought it was a good shot,” the media specialist—a Turian and a Lance Corporal—replied. He inspected his preview. Seldin’s authority was reflected with the over-the-shoulder shot that had Kali and Volyk, despite their faces obscured, listening intently to Seldin’s every word.
“As long as you don’t get in our way, you’re fine,” Seldin replied.
The thumps got louder. Kali walked away from Seldin and the media specialist. Instead of approaching the windows, Kali laid his gloved hand on the wall—it vibrated.
“Thank you,” the media specialist said back. Unfortunately, with Volyk and Seldin watching him, he could no longer get the candid shots he desired. He needed to wait until the next opportunity presented itself, so the media specialist walked back towards the aid stations.
Seldin could see Kali listening out for something. This was why Seldin remained silent.
“That’s a Mantis, and it’s getting closer,” Kali said.
Seldin nodded. “Hotel Charlie Sunray, this is Menace 2. Be advised, Mantis approaching our location.”
Back on the second floor, Lodge made his way to a window where he, and one of the logistics specialists, looked out. That was indeed a Commonwealth Army Mantis growing larger. It was now impossible to ignore the hum of its thrusters.
“Tenzer, let that Mantis know it’s approaching our location,” Lodge instructed.
“Hotel Charlie Sunray, Hotel Charlie 21. civies are getting unruly at Zone Alpha,” one of the marine NCOs reported. “Requesting Zone Alpha be closed and for immediate assistance.”
“21, affirmative, close Zone Alpha.” Lodge paused. “Moore, am I on tactical net?”
“Affirmative.”
“All stations, available units report.” Lodge looked at his chief petty officer. “I’m going to check on Zone Alpha myself.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You should stay here,” Lodge warned Tenzer.
“Menace ready to assist,” Seldin announced. He and his commandos were already walking. They walked past the aid stations and several confused civilians before they arrived at the building reception.
Zone Alpha was the entrance and exit to the HRO. This was where visitors were identified, scanned, and eventually allowed into the HRO. It was manned by a squad of eight marines supported by three military police officers (to operate the security scanner), four LOKI meches (controlled by one mech controller), and one sentry turret.
The commandos heard the crowd before they saw them. When a marine opened the closed door to the lobby, the commandos could see a thin layer of marines, Commonwealth Navy LOKI meches, and naval police coxswains keeping back a wall of people—Turians, Humans, Quarians of all colours, ages, and sizes. All begging to be let in.
“Turn around! This outpost is closed!” the marine squad leader shouted. He saw the commandos approaching.
“Where do you need us?” Seldin questioned the Petty Officer First Class (the equivalent to an Army Staff Sergeant).
“I need a second line. Form up by the metal detector,” he ordered.
Seldin nodded. “Wilco. Batons.” The three commandos holstered their rifles and took out their stun batons. “Pick a marine and back them up,” Seldin told Kali and Volyk. He took his position behind a marine and a naval police coxswain.
“Get back!” one marine barked.
“Halt,” the LOKI meches repeated.
The crowd seemed to keep pushing forward. When it did, the marines and naval police coxswain forming the front line had to back up before they could force the crowd back. They had their deactivated stun batons in hand. Without the threat of a powerful incapacitating shock, the stun batons were as useful as their more primitive counterparts.
“Hotel Charlie Sunray, requesting use of force level 3,” the squad leader said over the radio.
“Hold. I’m on my way,” Lodge replied. “You are authorised use of force level 1.”
This meant only being a physical barrier to contain a crowd. The LOKI Meches were not allowed to form the front line. Armed with SMGs, they remained behind the marines. Level 2 allowed the use of deactivated stun batons and physical strikes to force the crowd back. Meches could now be moved in front provided that their weapons are unloaded. Level 3 was when stuns were authorised, as was brandishing firearms and firing warning shots if safe.
Level 4 was lethal force.
“Back!” one of the marines shouted.
The crowd pushed forward, sending the surprised marine falling back. Just like that, the line broke.
Seldin rushed forward, stepping past the marine on the ground to hold the line. He held his baton in front of him. “Stay back!” he yelled. He shoved a young Human man back into the crowd, but it felt like pushing him against a wall. The young man seemed to bounce back, but Seldin had to hold his ground. The marine was back on his feet and standing beside Seldin.
“Force level 1,” one LOKI mech repeated. This was both a verbal threat to the civilians and a reminder for the marines.
One Turian woman took advantage of the brief gap in the line to slip between a marine and a naval police coxswain. Before either could grab her, she tried running.
“Tango!” one marine called out.
Kali—in full combat armour—tackled the Turian woman to the ground. With his body weight on her, Kali holstered his stun baton. The woman was dazed, maybe even concussed. Kali lifted himself off her. He tried to get the woman to her feet, but she couldn’t stand.
Without saying anything, one of the other marines helped Kali handle the woman. They needed to get her back into the crowd; they weren’t explicitly authorised to detain—there simply weren’t enough marines to move and monitor detainees.
“Out of my way!” Kali screamed. The woman tried to stand, but she just collapsed again, pulling both Kali and the marine down.
With one powerful thrust, they threw the woman back into the crowd—she was now their problem. Like that, she vanished.
“Sir,” the squad leader said.
Lodge looked blankly at the crowd. “I’m authorising force level 2,” Lodge replied. All he needed to do was see the restlessness of the crowd. “Go to three if—”
Loud gunfire rang out from behind the crowd. In an instant, the wall of marines crumbled as they all ducked down. Everyone swapped from their batons to their firearms—force levels be damned if someone was firing on them.
“Get down!” one marine shouted.
Some of the crowd obeyed. Others trampled over them as they rushed forward—they were no longer trying to get in, they were trying to get away.
“Everyone down!” a naval police coxswain called out.
“Hey, no—”
A strong Quarian man stepped over a crouching marine. He began running for the door Lodge came from. He was struck on the chest with the butt of the squad leader’s rifle.
“Stay the fuck down!” the squad leader shouted. He pointed his rifle at the other civilians. “On the ground, now!”
“Sunray, I see the Mantis. It’s firing at something down the road,” the chief petty officer announced over the radio.
Lodge had his rifle in hand. He needed to back up his marines. With a quick press on his gauntlet, he keyed his radio. “Tenzer, tell them to back off.”
“Copy,” Tenzer replied.
“Sir, we need level 3,” the squad leader reminded his officer. There was standing authorisation to react to lethal force with lethal force, but the squad leader wanted to remove any ambiguity.
“Authorised,” Lodge replied.
“Force level 3 authorised,” the squad leader said into his radio. He promptly tried to restrain the Turian man, only for the man to struggle. Another marine kicked the Turian in the chest, letting the squad leader bring his hands together to cuff.
Without Moore, Lodge had to switch to the tactical net on his own. “All stations, lockdown, lockdown, lockdown. Outpost closed.”
When another civilian tried to slip between the marines, the naval police coxswain did not hesitate in striking the small woman with a stun baton.
These were military stun batons designed to knock armoured combatants unconscious for a minimum of an hour. Against bare skin or even clothing, it could lead to burns and an electric shock. Ironically, it was non-lethal against well-equipped foes but only less-than-lethal against civilians.
The woman’s body locked up. She already lost consciousness. She didn’t brace herself as she fell face first onto the ground.
“I’ll get more marines to help you,” Lodge told the squad leader.
“Yes, sir.”
Lodge walked back to the meeting hall where the aid stations were set up. The civilians here were more orderly, having been ushered together into a small group by the stage. There were armed marines at each door. The doctors kept working, unfazed by the gunfire or the noise in the nearby room.
Sub-Lieutenant Adrian Babbage CN, 23 Turian, was the marine platoon commander. While he lent his platoon to the outpost, he would be overseeing aid station operations with his radio operator and another marine by his side.
“How bad is it?” Babbage asked Lodge.
“Bad.” Lodge scanned the aid stations. The unarmoured and unarmed sailors manned their tables even though there was no-one to deliver goods to. “Do not pack up yet, but I want everyone in their gear. Do you have spare marines?”
“Negative. I have all of 2nd Squad watching Zone Beta. 1st Squad is on perimeter security.”
Lodge knew all Babbage was left with were unarmed and lightly armoured sailors—not marines. These sailors were trained to use a firearm, but they would have no clue trying to control a crowd. It was something Lodge could not ask of them.
Lodge needed time to think. He could no longer guarantee the safety of his soldiers or the civilians. He made his call. “We’re packing up. Tell everyone to pack up. I’ll let command know.”
Babbage nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Lodge turned away. “Moore, patch me directly to command.”
“Good to go,” Moore said over the radio.
“Horizon Zero, Hotel Charlie Sunray.”
“Hotel Charlie Sunray, go ahead.”
“Threat level red. I am immediately closing this HRO. It is no longer safe for us to operate,” Lodge declared,
“Copy. HRO closed. Let us know of your ETA when available. I will ask Hotel Charlie Zulu to also close.”
“Copy,” Lodge replied. “My liaison has not been able to get that Mantis to stop. Can you check via your liaisons?”
“Affirmative. I’ll check with my liaisons. Anything else?”
“Negative. Hotel Charlie Sunray out.”
Lodge took in a deep breath. He swapped back to his tactical net. “All stations, outpost close. I repeat, outpost close. Pack up and prepare for exfiltration. 3rd Squad, hold Zone Alpha.”
The other voices came flowing in.
“Copy.”
“Copy, outpost closed.”
“Affirmative.”
“Pack up, everyone!” Babbage shouted. He approached the sitting civilians. “We are leaving. Just stay seated, you can stay in here.”
Everyone then heard the deep hum and a quiet screech from above.
“Hotel Charlie Sunray, that Mantis is hovering just outside,” one of the squad leaders reported.
“Tenzer, report,” Lodge ordered. She didn’t reply. Lodge tried again. “Tenzer, report.”
“Hotel Charlie Sunray, confirm that outpost is closed,” Tenzer requested over the radio.
“Affirmative, outpost closed. Please report,” Lodge replied.
“Hold.”
Lodge did not get angry or frustrated. He simply looked around. This was when these Navy logisticians got into their element. They had an easy time unbolting and unfolding the tables. The sailors were happy that the crates were now either empty or half-full. None of them seemed to mind the Mantis hovering just outside.
At Zone Alpha, every marine heard Lodge’s order. However, they needed to stand their ground,
“That Mantis is really close,” one of the marines said. He could hear the Mantis’s engines despite the worried murmurs from the crowd—and the crying of the children, that was what made him uneasy.
One of the Humans in the crowd stood up.
The squad leader and another marine aimed their rifles at him.
“Get the fuck down!”
“Don’t fucking move!” the squad leader barked.
The terrified man raised his empty hands. “Please, I just want to—”
“You want to die?” one marine replied. “Down!”
The man got back onto his knees. He was part of the crowd again.
The crowd was finally tamed. All of the civilians were either lying on the ground or were sitting against the walls. Some watched the people with guns. Others kept their eyes on the ground or on their loved ones. Some of them just came here for food and now they were being threatened with guns—to them, it was clear this was a Commonwealth outpost.
The marines, naval police coxswain, and their LOKI meches stood tall with their firearms in hand. The marines didn’t know that the civilians believed the Mantis—a Commonwealth gunship—only fired as a warning for the crowd to calm down.
Seldin approached the squad leader. “Do you have a drone?”
“Yeah. We have one outside.”
This meant Seldin didn’t need to suggest sending a LOKI mech out. “That Mantis is too close,” Seldin replied. “It’s likely watching this building.”
“We also have a turret outside. I’ve had it flash green lights at the Mantis.”
“So they know we’re here,” Seldin said back.
“Here’s hoping.”
Back on the second floor, Tenzer could see the marines pack up their communications and command gear. She kept herself away from the windows, but she knew the Mantis was nearby—she could hear it, and she saw the chief petty officer yank a media specialist away from a window.
“Is your head screwed on right?” the chief petty officer yelled into the media specialist’s face. “Your camera looks just like a gun to that Mantis.”
The media specialist straightened his armoured vest. He looked down at his photo preview with shock. “It’s really close.”
“Confirm that Hunter 77 has been reminded of your location,” Tenzer heard.
“Can I get a reason why it’s so close?”
“Hunter 77 is following identified JLA forces in the area. Please advise HRO.”
“Affirmative. Liaison 2 out.” Tenzer manually swapped to Lodge. “Hotel Charlie Sunray, be advised, JLA forces are in the area. I’ve reminded the Mantis of our location.” She let out a sigh of relief—the Mantis wasn’t here for them.
“Where’s the JLA?” the chief petty officer questioned Tenzer—he was the second person from the outpost to speak to her.
“Somewhere near here.”
“If they’re near here, then we will deal with them, not a Mantis.”
Tenzer didn’t respond. It just didn’t work that way—the Hazelflare marines were here to guard the outpost. The CEF, Telloh was responsible for anti-JLA activity, and that Mantis was doing its job with or without infantry support.
Kali and Seldin were standing with the squad leader at the back of the reception.
“That Mantis can’t tell the difference between a civilian and JLA,” Seldin warned. “You send these people out and they’ll die.”
“But if I let the Mantis know through our liaison, then they won’t shoot,” the squad leader reasoned.
“It’s worth a shot,” Seldin replied.
From outside the building, it looked empty. According to word of mouth, a Mantis could not see beneath or behind it. This was what gave the five teenagers the confidence to run across the road to the old government building. They thought it was empty since they hadn’t seen anyone come in or out.
They climbed the steps. When the lead boy spotted the armed Commonwealth soldiers, he froze up.
“Shit.”
The marines spotted them as well.
“Don’t move!” one marine screamed, pointing her rifle at the teens.
“Stay right there!”
The girl at the rear of the group began running. She wisely ran perpendicular to the doors so that the marines could not see her.
One of the boys didn’t even hear the marines. He remained outside, watching the Mantis carefully—it seemed perfectly still in the air. It would have been peaceful had the boy’s ears not been blasted with the constant roar of the thrusters.
“On the ground!”
Three of the teens laid down at the doorframe. They raised their empty hands.
None of the marines could get to them, so they simply kept their rifles pointed. “Don’t move!”
Having confirmed that the HRO was closed and empty of Taskforce Hazelflare personnel, the Mantis was in the clear.
The running girl was turned into a red pulp. One confirmed kill.
The Mantis turned towards the government building.
Tens of 20mm rounds—designed to shred lightly armoured vehicles and enemy aircraft—pounded the building. The Mantis fired in strictly controlled bursts.
A round struck the stairs beside one of the teens. That was enough to destroy his legs.
The rounds had no difficulty making their way through the walls. Dust, splinters, chips of paint, and even chunks of concrete landed on the cowering civilians. Seldin could feel something strike his head. His shields and helmet absorbed the impact—the civilians didn’t have headgear.
The Mantis pivoted on the spot to suppress the second floor and then the third floor.
It stopped.
As quickly as it had started, it stopped.
Every marine, naval police coxswain, commando—anyone with a pulse was prone on the ground or sheltering behind whatever they could.
Only the LOKI meches remained standing and unfazed by the gunfire.
One of the marines lifted her head. She thought the civilians all looked too still. She was even startled when one horrified woman looked back at her. The babies were still crying. One man was reciting a prayer to himself. Several people began coughing, having inhaled the dust blocked out by the marines’ combat armour filters.
One young woman got onto her feet. She looked at her hands—red and covered in blood. She screamed like she never did before.
“Down!” one marine shouted. His voice cracked.
“Get down!” Kali called out.
The woman didn’t hear them. She screamed again.
The explosion shook the building. The first missile landed between levels 2 and 3. Kali was horrified he only heard the missile’s impact and not its launch.
Both Kali and the marine were swept off their feet. Having landed face up, Kali saw the ceiling sag before one of the light fixtures landed on him.
The force seemed to go through the building’s walls and floors. The civilians did not fare well. Some marines, even with their sealed and shielded armour, were left dazed.
“Ah shit,” the squad leader. He immediately got onto his legs and kicked open the doors to the hall.
Seldin joined the squad leader in standing by the doorframe. “Move! Move!”
“Get in!”
Seldin watched as the marines got back to their feet. Without looking back, they made their retreat. Even the LOKI controller ran, choosing to leave the meches idle before he could re-establish control. The civilians, seeing the soldiers run, got up to follow them.
Neither Seldin nor the squad leader tried to stop them. Instead, they needed the civilians out of there.
The building shook again. Dust came down from the ceiling.
Seldin saw Volyk run past him. When a marine tripped on the leg of a turret, he landed with a thud. Kali helped the marine up and ushered him into the hall.
“Move!”
A rocket detonated directly above them. The ceiling, weakened by the first blast, collapsed.
Seldin crouched down, shielding his head with his hands.
Lodge backed up, taking cover behind a wall with another marine. When Lodge heard the first blast, he ran to Zone Alpha to order everyone—marine and civilian—inside. He waited for a second before making his way into the reception area, bumping straight into a terrified civilian. Having felt like he struck a wall, the civilian was quick to keep crawling towards the light in the hall.
“Get into the hall!” Lodge called out for anyone still alive.
Lodge saw one of the naval police coxswain beneath some rubble. He moved some bits of plaster and concrete. The sailor wasn’t under much. They reached out their hand. Lodge couldn’t see any damage to their armour aside from a light dent to the chest plate—their kinetic shields had already popped. Lodge grabbed their hand and pulled them to their feet.
“Fall back,” he said.
“Yes, sir,” they replied, catching their breath. They didn’t even turn around for their service weapon.
Lodge could see the five of the six LOKI meches. They remained like statues—fixtures of this room rather than armed guards. The sixth mech was crushed beneath a first aid cabinet and a large meeting room table.
At the front door to the building, Lodge saw the bodies. He also saw movement in the dust. He rushed forward, moving aside some rubble. It was a young Human man. He blinked.
“I’ll get you out of here,” Lodge said. There was water piling up on the floor from the ruptured water pipes. Lodge shoved away a collapsed plastic barrier that was on the man’s legs—the marines had these barriers for crowd control.
Before Lodge could move the man over his back to carry him, the Mantis fired again. Lodge saw the doorway struck again by rounds. This was another round of suppressing fire.
Lodge was out of time. He began to drag the man. He walked backwards with his head turned. A pair of civilians—a mother and her son—ran in front of him into the hall.
Lodge kept dragging, keeping himself low.
“All stations, Red. Threat level Red,” the chief petty officer announced. Lodge heard it through his radio. It was a moot point, but someone needed to say it.
Lodge felt a snag. He briefly lifted the man before bringing him into the hall.
Lodge moved the man behind the wall. Only then did Lodge see the man’s empty eyes. Lodge looked down—the man had no legs. There was a clear trail of blood from where they had been.
Lodge fell backwards. He sat with his back against the wall, his eyes fixated on the man—the man whose blank, unchanging expression stared back at Lodge.
On the second floor, Tenzer and the chief petty officer were lying flat on the floor. They heard the missiles and saw the second burst of fire. It was now quiet. The chief petty officer had been counting the seconds. 7 seconds and counting—longer than the gap between the missiles and the second burst. The next missiles were overdue, but the chief petty officer wouldn’t wait.
“To the stairs, come on,” he instructed his marines. He counted them as they ran past—he knew there were three marines with him. He could see Tenzer still on the ground. “Captain! We need to go.”
“Hunter 77, this is Liaison 2. Abort! You’re firing on friendly position,” Tenzer said again on the emergency channel. She had already informed her command of the attack.
The chief petty officer used his biotic powers to lift Tenzer up. She was forced onto her feet.
“Captain!”
Tenzer grabbed her rifle and walked down the stairs, desperately waiting for a reply. She slipped on the stairs, saving herself by grabbing onto the handrail.
The chief petty officer saw this, but it did not matter. “Keep moving.”
On the first floor, the squad leader spotted the marine sitting alone against the wall. The friend or foe tag displayed a name and rank on the squad leader’s HUD. When he got close, he read the subdued rank insignia on the shoulders. It was his commanding officer.
“Sir, you need to move.”
Lodge turned his head. He could see the marine, yet he didn’t say anything.
The marine quickly inspected Lodge for any damage to his armour. There didn’t look like any. “Sir, do we have orders?” Even with the armour, the marine barely recognised the marine officer.
“Is he OK?” the platoon petty officer questioned.
“No clue.”
“Lieutenant, can you hear me?”
No response.
“Get him a medic,” the platoon petty officer ordered. He keyed his radio. “Hotel Charlie 20, this is Hotel Charlie 25. Sunray is down. You have command.”
Volyk was a trained medical sergeant and combat medic. She was also cross-trained as an engineer sergeant. However, she didn’t hear any request for a medic.
She already lost Seldin and Kali in the chaos. When she tried her radio, Seldin said he was with Kali sheltering with civilians. He warned Volyk to not go to them.
Volyk remained in the hall. When she spotted a civilian wrapping a tourniquet around another person’s arm, Volyk went to help finish the job.
“Stay down and away from doors and windows,” Volyk calmly advised.
“This way,” she heard a woman say. She saw a pair of Quarians walk into a hallway.
This was a danger zone when there was a Mantis outside.
“Hey! Wait!” Volyk called out. She immediately ran after them.
The Quarians turned the corner. Volyk paused. She looked out the windows—if the Mantis was watching her, this was a bad idea. Volyk ignored any doubt as she kept following the Quarians. She was surprised to see the Quarians standing with a marine pointing his rifle at them.
“Halt—” the marine quickly identified Volyk as one of the commandos. “Sorry, commando. You can proceed.” He turned back to the Quarians. “If you don’t move, I’ll make you move.”
“You have room in there,” the Quarian reasoned.
“Not for you. Go.”
“Please,” the second Quarian said. “That fucking thing might shoot again and—”
The marine raised his rifle and struck the first Quarian on the chest.
Both Quarians backed up. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
The marine pointed his rifle at them. “Run.”
The two Quarians ran away, dodging the still Volyk. The marine lowered his rifle. “Sorry you had to see that.”
“What are you guarding?” Volyk questioned.
“The kids.”
Volyk went forward to confirm. The marine stepped aside. Indeed, in the meeting room, nested in the middle of the building, were six children—some young, one teenager. They were joined by one adult Quarian, likely the mother of the baby Quarian.
Volyk was genuinely relieved the marine wasn’t hoarding supplies or protecting a hiding spot for cowards. She was alone and couldn’t dislodge them even if that was the case.
The marine combat medic (technically a medical assistant attached to the marines) was there tending to a cut on the Turian kid’s neck. The combat medic had retracted his faceplate so the kids could see the Turian underneath the helmet.
Volyk retracted her own faceplate. “Hi kids, just stay here. We’ll let you know when it’s safe to leave.”
“Is the hall safe?” the combat medic asked.
“I wouldn’t walk through any hallway until the Mantis is gone. Do you need something?”
“Water and food for the kids. I don’t know how long this will take.”
Volyk nodded. She activated her faceplate. “I’ll get some.”
“Is it too dangerous?”
“Commandos are dangerous.” She went back outside. Volyk activated the cloak on her armour.
She was no longer visible to the naked eye, but she actually left a more obvious infrared signature as well as heat. That didn’t matter. Volyk sprinted back to the hall.
In the former general manager’s office, Seldin and Kali were joined by one marine, one unarmed sailor, and six civilians. They all remained still. Kali remained the closest to the door. It was dark since the building lost after the first missile barrage.
“Is it over?” one of the civilians asked.
“I don’t know,” Seldin answered honestly.
One of the civilians was sobbing into her partner’s body. She didn’t want to die.
Kali heard footsteps. He didn’t register any friend or foe on his IFF scanner. With his rifle in hand, Kali poked his head out the office, spotting the media specialist—armed with his camera—crawling in the hallway.
“In here!” Kali shouted.
“It’s above us!” the media specialist replied.
“Move! Run!” Kali stood up and entered the hallway. He ushered the media specialist to safety.
“Just stay down,” Seldin said. “We’re safer here.”
“Thank you.” Without even a second to think, the media specialist took a photo of the crying woman. The composition was just right, but the lighting was a bit off. Maybe this one could be saved with post-production.
Seldin thought it was a bit rude to take photos without regard for privacy. However, he had more to worry about than the media specialist’s callousness.
“It’s still here?” the marine asked the media specialist.
“Yeah, I didn’t see it, but it was going around the building.”
The ceiling was weakened from the repeated blasts. Seldin thought it would hold, but he didn’t realise how much it had sagged until he shined the flashlights on his helmet. But it was also too risky to move away from the centre of the building.
Dust blanketed the sheltering people.
“Everyone under cover!” Seldin ordered.
Kali saw that the teenaged Turian boy was still in the open. There wasn’t enough room for him under the table. Without a second thought, Kali moved his body over the boy’s. “Stay still!” he said.
An office chair from above came crashing through the ceiling and in front of Seldin.
“Please, please, save us,” one civilian cried out.
Seldin considered running back into the hallway. He could have left everyone here—maybe they were safer under furniture, but Seldin had nothing. If the building was going to collapse, Seldin needed to increase his chance of survival. However, he stood his ground.
“Kali,” Seldin called out.
The commando lifted his head. “Yes?”
“Stay here. I’ll check for another room.”
“Yes, Master Sergeant.”
Seldin stepped out. He kept his body low. He was still waiting for the Mantis to try again.
Tenzer followed the chief petty officer to the rear entrance to the building. The chief petty officer, who Tenzer never caught the name of, was relieved to find his marines still standing guard. They had wisely moved into the garage when the gunfire started.
“Are our trucks still there?”
“Yes, Chief,” the squad leader answered. “That Mantis just flew over them, didn’t fire.”
“Maybe it’s waiting for us to come out,” another marine suggested.
The building shook again. The chief petty officer looked up. The ceiling didn’t look too damaged. On his scanner, he could see two friendly signatures coming from behind.
On cue, Sub-Lieutenant Babbage and Able Seaman Moore arrived.
“Sub-Lieutenant,” the chief petty officer said.
“Chief. Captain Tenzer, why did that Mantis shoot at us?” Babbage sternly questioned.
“I don’t know,” Tenzer answered. “I told them about the—”
“Why didn’t you walk outside and wave it off?”
Tenzer knew she needed to be careful with her words. “It hasn’t fired for a few minutes now. I believe it heard me.”
“If that Mantis fires one more rocket at us…” Babbage replied. His fist was clenched, but his hands were still uncontrollably shaking. “Make that thing go away.”
Tenzer took a step back. She had a rifle, but she stood no chance against Babbage and the five other fully armed and armoured marines. She had zero doubt they would hold her responsible—it wouldn’t be hard to bury her body under the rubble and claim the Mantis killed her in the initial attack.
“I will,” Tenzer said back. Tenzer’s hands shook as she began broadcasting on the emergency channel. “Hunter 77, this is Liaison 2. Requesting intentions.”
Babbage took a deep breath. He knew he let his fear get to him. “Chief, keep an eye on her. Banks, hold this zone. I’m planning on a quick exfiltration.”
“Yes, sir.”
Babbage walked back to the hall. Before he did, he turned around to look at Tenzer. “Why were you heading for the garage, Captain?”
“I led her here,” the chief petty officer intervened. “I wanted to make sure the trucks weren’t damaged.”
Satisfied, Babbage kept on walking.
“He won’t shoot ya,” the chief petty officer said. “Don’t worry.”
That didn’t assuage Tenzer. She knew she wouldn’t get a reply over the emergency channel. She just didn’t know what she would tell Babbage when he next asked for a report.
Volyk made her way into the hall. She yelled out as she decloaked, but that didn’t stop her from startling the marine watching the entrance.
Volyk thought there were too few marines in the hall. There were only two naval police coxswain watching the closed door leading to the reception; there was one marine for the side doors. Everyone else here was either a civilian or one of the medical personnel.
This didn’t matter. Volyk was asked to find food and water. Unfortunately, the sailors had packed up the remaining food packets. She did grab some water bottles, but she was going to go back to the children shorthanded.
The attached military medical officers and medical assistants were already treating some of the injured civilians. Volyk was a trained combat medic, so she knew to not distract the doctors while they worked.
Instead, she spotted a Navy medical assistant and a marine tending to a downed marine officer. When Volyk got closer, her HUD showed that the marine was Lieutenant Lodge.
“I’m a combat medic,” Volyk told the two. She kneeled down to inspect Lodge. He had already been moved into the recovery position. “What have you checked?”
The medical assistant had plugged his tablet into Lodge’s armour. Without a helmet and HUD, this was how he was reading Lodge’s telemetry. “I’ve ran the basic diag [diagnostic]. All green or yellow. We just moved him from the door there. He isn’t responsive.”
Volyk pulled out the cable on her left forearm. “May I?”
The medical assistant swapped to wireless now that his device had been authenticated by Lodge’s armour. He unplugged his tablet.
Volyk plugged herself into Lodge’s armour. She quickly pressed through a warning that appeared on her gauntlet—a reminder that her’s and Lodge’s kinetic shields had to be deactivated to be connected. There was a second warning about a firmware update. Volyk ignored this one.
After a digital handshake, Volyk had access to Lodge’s telemetry. She saw the results of the basic diagnostic test the medical assistant already ran.
Through her HUD, Volyk could see that Lodge’s armour was returning normal readings. His heart rate was up, so was Volyk’s. There wasn’t a sign of any critical injuries on a first look.
She visually scanned his chest plate. There didn’t look to be any damage. There were scratches, but no dents. She inspected Lodge’s back before looking across his entire body for any sign of an impact wound. She even checked the soles of Lodge’s feet in case shrapnel came through there.
“He’s breathing,” the marine noted. “But he hasn’t said anything.”
“Can you hear me?” Volyk asked Lodge. She saw his helmet slightly move. “Tell me your name.” She could already read it on her HUD, but she needed him to talk. “I’m going to run a blink test. Follow the dot on your HUD.” She pressed a button on her gauntlet.
Volyk and the medical assistant waited. The results came in live. There was some delay in Lodge’s responses.
“Motor responsiveness is delayed. Likely stress-related,” Volyk said. “Just keep him here and monitor,” Volyk told the medical assistant and marine. “You should check on some of the civilians.”
The medical assistant read the results again. “Thank you, trooper.”
Babbage and Moore detected Seldin’s IFF signature before they saw him. They found him in the hallway.
Seldin wasn’t startled. He heard the two marines coming. “Sub-Lieutenant,” Seldin said.
“Commando.” Upon reading Seldin’s rank as ‘Master Sergeant’ on his HUD, Babbage believed he found the right commando. “Gather your team. We’ll need to re-establish a perimeter.”
Seldin nodded. “Is the Mantis gone?”
“I’ll find out.” Babbage and Moore continued back to the hall.
On Babbage’s orders, the mech controller sent out one of the LOKI mechs through the destroyed front entrance. The mech had difficulty navigating the rubble, but he found its way onto the stairs.
The Mantis saw it, and the mech could see the Mantis.
Just like that, the Mantis spun around and flew away. Its hum grew lower until it was gone.
No-one on the ground knew if the Mantis received orders to withdraw or if the non-hostile LOKI mech was confirmation they had the wrong target. Babbage, who was also monitoring the mech’s view, was apprehensive, but relieved.
Tenzer joined Babbage in the hall. She still hadn’t received a response from the Mantis—however, her command has informed her they managed to get in contact with Hunter 77.
“Is it gone?” one squad leader asked Babbage.
“I hope so,” he replied. He turned to look at Tenzer. “I think it worked.”
“Has the Mantis withdrawn?” Tenzer questioned.
“Did you not ask it to withdraw?”
“I’ve asked through my command and through the emergency channel,” Tenzer replied.
“And it won’t come back?”
Tenzer was apprehensive. She knew she couldn’t make the promise. “They know we’re not JLA.”
“They thought we were JLA?” Babbage continued his questioning.
All Tenzer knew from her command was that Hunter 77 was operating on the belief that Hotel Charlie was closed and clear of TF Hazelflare personnel. The reality was that Hotel Zulu reported they were clear of the area of operations—they were already closing up and expedited when the Mantis first arrived. Tenzer didn’t know who fucked up, but somewhere, someone mixed up the two HROs in the area.
The marines didn’t need to know that. If they did, they would probably just blame Tenzer and show her the consequences.
“I believe so,” Tenzer answered.
Babbage looked back to his platoon petty officer. “Check with the squad leaders. Ask if anyone’s missing.” He turned to Moore. “Can I have tact net?”
“Ready.”
“All stations, all stations. This is Hotel Charlie Sunray. Threat level Yellow. Hostile aircraft have withdrawn. Regroup by zone. 3rd Squad to Zone Beta. All units prepare for exfiltration.”
“What is his name?” Tenzer quietly asked the chief petty officer. She never caught the senior NCO’s name, but it was too awkward to ask him.
“Sub-Lieutenant Babbage,” the chief petty officer politely answered.
“Thank you.” Tenzer approached the younger officer. “Sub-Lieutenant Babbage.”
Babbage was making sure his “What?”
“I can call for a medevac for the wounded.”
“With all due respect, a Charlie Echo Mantis tore these people apart. They’re not getting into one of yours or even one of our VTOLs.” Babbage wasn’t very happy with the suggestion—it was a foolish and impractical idea.
“What about your wounded?”
“Don’t try me, Captain,” Babbage replied. In reality, he had yet to hear any of the squad leaders report casualties aside from Lodge.
“Have you organised your transport out?” the chief petty officer questioned Tenzer. It was something Babbage hadn’t even considered.
“No, I haven’t,” Tenzer answered.
“Do it,” Babbage ordered. “Don’t overstay your welcome.”
Lodge was left away from the other casualties. One of the medical assistants regularly checked on him. He was now responding with nods or head shakes to questions, but speaking was still out of the question—he certainly wasn’t in a state to command.
Lodge tried moving his fingers—they were working. He lifted his hand. It was heavy, but he if persisted, it could raise it.
He checked his right thigh. His service pistol was still there—Volyk thought the medical assistant would have removed it; the medical assistant didn’t even see it before he looked away. Lodge slowly and deliberately unholstered it. A passing marine did not even notice that Lodge was moving. Lodge flicked the safety off and brought the gun up, barrel pressed firmly against his chest plate.
The medical assistant was walking back to check on Lodge. He didn’t realise Lodge was holding a handgun—until it fired. Lodge squeezed the trigger.
The shot went straight into the chest plate, failing to pierce it but sending a massive force to Lodge’s lungs and rib cage. Lodge fired another shot. The air was forced out of his lungs by the impact.
The medical assistant hesitated. Volyk didn’t. She promptly swooped down and grabbed Lodge’s handgun from him. With one gesture, she unloaded the weapon and turned its safety back on.
The hall erupted into terrified screams. Babbage and the chief petty officer, weapons drawn, followed the sound to Volyk.
“What was that?” a marine asked.
Volyk looked down at Lodge, her foot standing on his chest plate to keep him down. “Are you serious?” she blurted. She immediately regained her composure.
“What are you doing, commando?” one marine asked.
“The Lieutenant—he just tried to shoot himself!” the medical assistant answered. Volyk stepped aside so the medical assistant could tend to Lodge.
“The commando just disarmed the Lieutenant,” another marine added.
“Restrain him,” Babbage ordered. “The Lieutenant is not in the right mind.” He approached Volyk. “I’ll take his sidearm, commando.” Volyk handed it over. “Thank you,” Babbage said.
The chief petty officer kneeled down beside Lodge. He waited until Babbage and the other marines went back to their posts. It was only the chief petty officer, a naval police coxswain, and the medical assistant with their commander.
“You knew that shot wouldn’t go through,” the chief petty officer quietly said.
Lodge didn’t say anything back. However, he did squeeze his fists—something only the medical assistant noticed.
“You’re already injured, Lieutenant. You don’t need a gunshot wound to make it real.”
“Sorry?” the naval police coxswain asked. She was waiting for the medical assistant to give the go-ahead to restrain Lodge with cuff ties.
“Nothing,” the chief petty officer replied. Lodge already heard him.
Seldin heard the gunshot, but since he saw the marines had handled it, he didn’t need to intervene. “In here,” Seldin said, guiding the civilians and the media specialist into the hall. Kali was at the rear. He made sure everyone was accounted for.
When Volyk saw her comrades, she eagerly went to meet them. “Boys.”
“We’re going to secure the perimeter. Care to join us?” Kali asked. The commandos had a moment of relief now that the Mantis had gone away.
The commandos took up position by one of the side exits of the building. With the front entrance destroyed (and bodies buried under debris), this was how people would be getting in and out.
Babbage told the civilians that the outpost was closed, and that the TF Hazelflare personnel would be leaving in the next 30 minutes. Civilians were encouraged to leave, but anyone who had become separated from their friends and family were allowed to stay in the hall. The marines were already stretched. One squad watched the hall; another squad guarded the trucks. The third squad was performing a final sweep of the building as the sailors packed up the gear and destroyed what could not be brought back.
“Menace 2, Hotel Charlie Sunray. Charlie Echo Kodiak will be landing on the road. Escort Liaison and confirm departure,” Moore advised Seldin on behalf of Babbage.
“Affirmative. We’ll watch out for Charlie Kodiak,” Seldin replied.
The commandos had their weapons out. They were loaded and ready to be used. However, the building was quiet. Only a handful of weary and dust-covered civilians streamed out of the building.
“If I had a MANPAT, I think I could have shot down that Mantis,” Kali noted. No civilian had passed by in a few minutes. Without any indication of JLA or bandit activity, he needed the chatter to pass the time.
“No use thinking about it,” Seldin replied. “You never would have been allowed a MANPAT on this op.”
Kali was a weapons sergeant trained in the use of the Man-Portable Anti-Tank Launcher or MANPAT. A MANPAT weighed over 6 kg, ignoring the missile—also it could be used against close air support. Kali was relieved to not need to carry such a heavy weight, but this was a time he needed it, and it wasn’t there.
There was no good reason the security detail for a HRO needed a MANPAT. After all, bandits and the JLA didn’t have heavy armour or air support.
“I’m not thinking about that. I’m thinking about how Charlie Echo lost four Mantises in one month and hasn’t learnt a thing.” Kali took great pride that one of the Mantises was likely downed by his MANPAT. It was unfortunately something he couldn’t openly brag about.
Seldin couldn’t hide his smile. “That’s the thing isn’t it? It’s hard to do a post-mortem when we or the JLA captured the pilots.”
Another factor was that downed CEF, Telloh aircraft would be destroyed if there was any risk of capture. If Charlie Echo was certain their pilots were not near the wreckage, then it was a valid target—even if curious civilians or opportunistic scavengers were nearby.
“Didn’t the Boss say that these are older Mantises that the Army would actually prefer destroyed than flown back to New Lederen?” Volyk asked.
“I think she was just worried that I regretted shooting down a Mantis,” Kali answered.
Seldin needed to step in. “No. If she thought you regretted something, she would have said so. These are older Mantises. It doesn’t mean they’re not dangerous.”
Even an older, life-extended Mantis was still a beast of destruction—it didn’t matter it lacked newer features.
The commandos dropped the chatter when they saw a civilian woman—Human in her thirties—walking towards them. Not even Kali was on edge since this woman was coming from the hall. The woman’s face was sullen. Dust was still in her hair.
“Excuse me, have you seen my son?” she asked. She already asked this of the marines and the sailors. “Around my height, black hair—red shirt, he was wearing a red shirt and black pants. He’s 8 years old.”
“I think I have,” Volyk answered. “We moved some of the kids to a safer room during the attack.”
The woman’s face turned from deep concern to pure joy. “Really? Please, where is he?”
“I’ll go see if he’s there,” Volyk said. “Just stay here.” It was easier for her to walk without the civilian following her. Volyk looked to Kali and Seldin—if either objected to staying with the woman, they would have voiced it.
Volyk walked quickly. She went past a marine and sailor on their way to the trucks. She was certain that this room was where she saw the marines and children—it was empty. There were some medical wrappers still on the floor. There was even some recently dried red Human blood as well.
She didn’t dwell on this. Volyk went to the hall. There looked to be even more civilians than there were before—or maybe the sailors had all withdrawn to the trucks.
Sitting alone against the wall, eating a fruit bar was a Human boy. Volyk didn’t know what an eight-year-old Human looked like, but the boy had black hair and a dirty red shirt. Volyk didn’t remember the trouser colours, but the boy looked to be a match. He did look familiar—he was likely one of the child at the guarded room.
Volyk holstered her rifle and retracted her faceplate. She approached the kid. He already saw the Turian in the Army armour approaching him.
“Hey there,” Volyk said in a gentle tone. “My name is Eleni Volyk. There’s a woman looking for a boy like you. Is she your mother?”
The boy’s weary face didn’t change. “Nah, my mum’s dead.”
“Aunty? Someone who cares for you?”
“No, ma’am. I came here with my mate, Tom. He’s dead now.”
Volyk nodded. “Can I take a photo of you? I want to let the woman know for certain you’re not her.”
The kid shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”
Volyk pointed her gauntlet at the child. He didn’t try to pose. He simply kept eating his bar. Volyk managed to get the boy’s eyes and nose in shot. Upon confirming, Volyk saved the photo.
Volyk hesitated before she turned around. She had her rations still in her pack. She took it out. “Hey, keep this.” Volyk offered it to the boy. “It’s good enough to feed you for a day.”
“No, thank you. That’s Turian food.”
“You sure? You can trade it for some cash if you don’t need it.”
The boy’s face did not change. “Tom was a Turian, but I guess now he’s just dead.”
The boy looked quite scrawny, his shirt covered in dust from the building. Volyk didn’t want to force it on him. She put away her ration pack. “Keep safe.”
“You too.”
Volyk walked alone back to her comrades. She didn’t feel defeated when the Mantis arrived. She didn’t feel defeated when the Mantis opened fire and all she could do was hide. However, she did feel defeated leaving that kid behind with nothing to help him. She knew she also had to deliver the news to the woman.
At the side entrance, Tenzer stepped out with her marine escort. She instantly recognised the 2nd Commando Regiment symbol that both Seldin and Kali wore—it was the regiment they were most recently in. Tenzer had to look carefully: the 2nd Commando Regiment was a Commonwealth Defence Force, New Lederen unit while Taskforce Hazelflare was made up of CDFs, New Canaan, Psara, and Adria units.
“Are you here for me?” Tenzer asked Seldin, believing him to be a CEF, Telloh commando.
“No, ma’am. Your Kodiak hasn’t arrived,” Seldin answered.
Tenzer was confused, but she had nothing else to say. She chose to wait with the commandos. A Kodiak made less noise than a Mantis, but everyone heard before they saw it. Moore even advised Seldin that the Kodiak was nearby.
It landed on the road in front of the building. It opened its passenger bay door. A squad of regular Army troopers emerged and formed a perimeter.
No-one walked Tenzer. She went alone to the Kodiak. After a quick scan to confirm she was who she said she was, she boarded the Kodiak. The troopers all withdrew back into the Kodiak.
Seldin watched the Kodiak fly over him. “Menace 2, Hotel Charlie Sunray. Confirm that Liaison has boarded Charlie Echo Kodiak and has left AO.”
The marine wordlessly went to go find his squad leader in the hall. Volyk stepped past him. She looked around for the woman. “I got the wrong kid… where’s the woman?”
“She didn’t like waiting,” Kali answered. “So she just walked off.”
“She’s checking the building. Maybe it’s good the kid wasn’t her’s,” Seldin added.
That was it—there was nothing more any of the commandos could have done. Volyk knew that, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t stop feeling sorry for the woman, her missing, and the lonely kid.
Five hours later and a quiet Kallara ride to safety, the commandos were back on base. Seldin attended the debrief on behalf of his commandos. He had nothing to add that Babbage and the senior NCOs did not catch.
Seldin left the meeting room. He was on his way to his quarters. Unlike the marines, Seldin’s armour and weapons were his personal property that he bought. He could register them with the TF Hazelflare armoury (like Kali and Volyk did), but he felt more comfortable cleaning his own gear.
Seldin walked without his helmet on. It was good to breathe the fresh air—or as fresh as a space station could get. He saw the media specialist from the HRO walking in his direction. The media specialist looked to still be in his combat uniform, just without the armoured vest of self-contained shielding.
“Master Sergeant.”
“Lance Corporal.” Seldin kept walking.
“Hey, do you have a moment?”
Seldin halted. “Yes.”
“My team leader likes this photo I took.” He showed Seldin the photo preview on the tablet the media specialist had on his belt.
It was a photo of Kali shielding a cowering teenaged Turian boy from falling rubble. It was a well-composed photo. The media specialist was definitely lying on the ground to get this shot.
“I need to do some post-production, but I think it’s a good photo for you and your unit.”
“Agreed.”
“I would like to let the guy in the photo know. Is he from your unit?”
Seldin nodded. “Yes, he is. I can take you to him so you can show him your photo.”
“Sure!” It was impressive the media specialist could still muster excitement. “That’d be great.”
As Seldin walked, there was a lingering thought. He had his combat footage but Seldin (and his Boss) had zero interest reviewing it—there was nothing the commandos could have done better against the Mantis. However, Seldin knew the media specialist had been doing his job despite the danger.
“How many photos did you take?” Seldin questioned.
“Like 120 over the day. I took some during that airstrike,” the media specialist answered.
“And how many do you keep?”
“There’s only like five good shots. Maybe eight if you’re happy to use some of the weaker ones.”
It made sense to Seldin. It was a bit like shooting a gun. Even with the best practice, not all shots landed on a target—especially if you’re suppressing your enemy. It intrigued Seldin that the media specialist spoke a bit like a sniper.
“Did you get photos of the casualties?”
“Yeah. I tried not to, because there’s no point. There’s a good one of this medical officer doing CPR on a civilian,” the media specialist replied. “I don’t think we’ll kept it.”
Seldin knew what he saw when looked back after the first round of Mantis suppressive fire. He also knew there was little appetite in Taskforce Hazelflare to even investigate this as a potential war crime. His combat footage was going to stay on his storage drive until it got deleted.
Even a non-combatant media specialist had little time for the civilians—the dead, the suffering, or those forced to witness the brutality of a single Mantis. Seldin knew he and his commandos were guilty of this as well—more so in the past.
However, Seldin kept in the back of his mind that only two marines were classified as wounded in action. To some senior officers, this HRO would somehow be classified as a successful but interrupted operation.
CEF, Telloh failed in their communications, but none of that mattered. The people who went to the HRO took a chance: the HRO was too good to be true. As Seldin and the commandos often found in life, no good deed goes unpunished. War is nothing but punishment.