Chapter 79 – Value of Time and Allies

Chapter 79 – Value of Time and Allies

— Friday, December 9, AD 2129 —

“…Oh, Major. Hey.”

Major Hackett paused, her hands stretched forward and wrapped around a gauss pistol pointed at a target sheet several meters downrange. Without turning her head, she glanced to the side, where she spotted Captain Travis setting up in an adjacent booth at the firing range. “…Captain,” the Major acknowledged, and then fired another several bullets into her target. From the relatively short range of a couple dozen meters, she was easily able to center all of her shots on the chest area of the target outline.

“Hey, not bad,” Travis remarked, leaning over to peek over Hackett’s shoulder. “You’re a pretty good shot, Major.”

“Not nearly as good as you,” Hackett refuted, passing the Captain a glance as she lowered her pistol and ejected its now-empty magazine. Thanks to the fact that gauss weapons used electromagnetism to fire their bullets instead of chemical propellants, they were far more quiet than firearms when fired — to the point that hearing protection in a firing range wasn’t necessary. This also allowed Hackett and Travis to easily converse with each other without leaving the range. Most firing ranges still had rules against prolonged conversations to encourage people to focus on handling the dangerous weapons in their hands, but at the moment, Hackett and Travis were the only ones present — and they were comfortable enough around each other that some friendly conversation between shots wasn’t an issue. The International Space Defense Station Opportunity had a great many such ranges, after all.

“…Oh… I’m not that good,” Travis commented in response to Hackett’s compliment. “Well, with a sniper rifle, I am. But the shorter the ranges get, the worse my aim gets.” He sighed and shrugged. “It feels like a real crapshoot, sometimes.”

“Your ‘worse’ is still better than most soldiers I’ve ever worked with,” Hackett remarked as she passed him an annoyed look. “Just take the compliment, Captain.”

“Ha ha, sorry, Major.” Travis grinned sheepishly as he loaded bullets into a magazine like clockwork. “Didn’t expect to run into you here, though. Working off some steam?”

“You could say that,” the Major replied. She picked up one of the loaded magazines on the small shelf in front of her and slotted it into her pistol; as she did a quick once-over of the weapon, she asked, “you here for the same?”

“Yep. Nothin’ like a good shooting session to work out some stress.”

“Stress, huh?”

“Yeah. Ever since we got back to Earth, yesterday, I’ve been feeling kinda… used.” Travis stopped for a second to look over at Hackett. “You know what I mean?”

“…Mm…” The Major grunted in response. She then firmly grasped her pistol with both hands, raising it up to aim at the target downrange. After a couple seconds of adjusting her aim, she fired five times in quick succession, the bullets flying through the chest of the paper silhouette and impacting the protective energy shielding at the back of the range. Then, without missing a beat, she shifted her aim slightly upwards and fired five more bullets — this time, piercing the target silhouette’s head in a close grouping near the center.

Travis whistled in admiration. “Pretty good shots, Major.”

“It’s a non-moving target. If I couldn’t do this much, then I wouldn’t belong on a team like CSF-1,” Hackett responded. A deep exhale then escaped her lips as she set her pistol down and stepped back, watching Travis finally take aim with his own pistol and open fire — without even stopping to aim. Nevertheless, after releasing ten bullets downrange and into a fresh piece of target paper, all of his shots found their mark right on the bulls-eye on the target’s chest. “…And you say you aren’t a good shot,” the Major remarked incredulously.

“Ha ha…”

“But, going back to what you said earlier…” Hackett commented, crossing her arms as Travis lowered his own and glanced back at her, “you’re right. Everything about Operation New Dawn rubbed me the wrong way.”

“Nice to know I’m not alone, then,” Travis replied. “Do you know if the Colonel thinks the same?”

“Knowing him, I think it’s likely. As an associate of General Lead, Saito’s never been fond of Commander Shepherd. I can’t imagine him accepting that last mission willingly.”

“Yeah, now that you mention that… it makes you think, huh?” the Captain responded as he turned back toward the range and aimed his gun again. He then began firing once every couple seconds or so, while still speaking, “Shepherd knows that we usually take orders from Lead, right? And that Saito and Lead are close? Why’d he want us for that operation, then?”

“…You must be showing off, now, Captain,” Hackett deadpanned, staring downrange at the target that Travis had been shooting while speaking — the target that now had two clean holes in the bulls-eyes on both its chest and head.

“Ah ha, sorry, didn’t mean to.”

“That aside… I have a few ideas about what Shepherd wanted, and why we were put on the op… none of them substantiated, though.”

“At least some kind of idea is better than nothin’. What’re you thinkin’?”

“That our assignment to Sunova was entirely political,” the Major asserted, her expression growing grim as Travis set his gun down and turned to face her fully. “CSF-1 and the Eximius Vir are two of the highest-profile infantry squads in SERRCom right now — hell, we might be the highest-profile squads period. I’d be willing to bet that Lead handed us over to Shepherd for a mission to get Shepherd to shut up about something.”

“I guess… still doesn’t feel right, though. The whole op just seemed kinda… pointless. That outpost didn’t have a bombardment shield, after all. So why didn’t Shepherd just have the Frigates scan the enemy outpost for its beam jammer, precision strike it from low orbit, and then beam up the remnants? I get that Shepherd wanted to recover as much of the Black Suns tech as possible, but some of our Frigates are capable of strikes with a precision of just one meter or so. They wouldn’t have to obliterate the whole outpost…”

“I agree in general, but that outpost was fairly small. And don’t forget that a precision of one meter doesn’t include the blast radius, which is pretty sizable for even ‘precision’ strikes.”

“I guess, but…”

“That said, barring orbital strikes entirely was definitely overcautious. There’s certainly another reason for a planetside raid, and I think you already know that reason, Captain: the Commander hates relying on the navy for anything. The fact that we even had Frigate backup in the first place is surprising, given his track record.”

“You’re saying that he wanted the Ground Forces to be the ones to take the outpost?”

Hackett nodded. “I don’t see any other answer. That desire would match up with all the rhetoric he was spewing on Eana and Sunova, too.”

“Yeah…” Travis sighed warily. “And thanks to that, two pilots, and three mechs…” He then looked back at Hackett. “Was it just me, or did Shepherd’s praise after the op sound hollow?”

“You mean when Saito brought up the casualties? I did think something of the same…” the Major admitted. “In an objective sense, Shepherd is right; the fact that we only lost two soldiers during that op is nothing short of a miracle, especially given who we were up against. That said…”

“…The op didn’t have to be ground-based in the first place?”

“Pretty much. At the end of the day, those soldiers died because of Shepherd’s ego and rhetoric…”

Captain Travis responded with solemn silence, his gaze directed downward.

“…Well,” Hackett spoke up again after a few moments of quiet, “at least we can say now that we fought and won against opponents on the same skill and tech level as the Black Suns. That’s something, I guess.”

“Even that feels weird to say, though…” Travis muttered. “The Black Suns… I mean, they’re still a PMC in the end, but we worked with them before. And they’re usually on the side of the galactic governments, right? It just feels weird to be fighting them like this. Or, I guess… ‘splinter forces’, as the official reports say.”

“Well, it’s like you said, Captain. They’re a PMC. Mercenaries.” Hackett scowled. “The likes of them are only ever after their own self-interest.”

“The Suns are a huge organization, though. And they’re split into four separate entities, almost. They can’t all be that bad, right?”

“I’m sure there are some misguided souls in the Suns who have good intentions, but at the end of the day, they all chose to be there.”

“Sure, but even that isn’t entirely true, right? Especially for the Black Suns, who employ a lot of Chaotics. Those Chaotics have to serve in some military, as part of CSA and Nimalian law. And I think we both know that private jobs usually have better pay and better freedom than any government job.”

The Major crossed her arms and gave Travis a hard stare. “…You’re defending the Black Suns?”

“Ah ha ha…” Travis chuckled nervously in response to Hackett’s accusation. “I guess it does look that way, huh… still. Something about this whole situation with the Suns doesn’t sit right. It’s almost like… hmm…” he trailed off uneasily, his brow furrowed in thought. “Well… it’s probably nothing.”

“It’s never nothing when someone says that. What were you about to say?”

“…Well… it just feels like the Black Suns as a whole aren’t properly working together, or something. The Suns we fought on Sunova seemed completely different from the ones we worked with back in October, and all of them seem so different from Gavon…”

“Gavon?”

“Oh, yeah. Gavon Savénos. He’s a Black Suns officer who showed up on Nimalia a few weeks ago.”

“What?!” Hackett’s eyes widened in alarm. “What’s he doing there?”

“He said he was just a guest instructor at WCU,” Travis replied. “I already told Saito about him, and he hasn’t been up to anything suspicious, as far as I can tell…”

“WCU? Isn’t that one of those schools that’re headed by the former members of Hero Machina? What the hell is a Black Suns officer doing there?”

“See what I’m talking about? It doesn’t make any sense. The Deans seem to trust the Suns, as does Nimalia. Why else would they let a Black Suns officer become a guest instructor? But the Nimalians don’t strike me as the kind of people who would trust an organization that tries to steal research and territory from sovereign nations.”

“…Perhaps we just have a flawed understanding of the Nimalians.”

“I don’t think so… I can’t speak for the Nimalian Union government, but the Deans — the former members of Hero Machina — they all seem like mostly respectable people. I can’t see any of them supporting what the Suns did on Sunova.”

“Hmm…” Hackett frowned. “…If we assume that’s true, and that this Gavon is trustworthy — which seems like a flawed assumption, to me — then that likely means one of two things.”

“Fair enough… what’re you thinkin’?”

“One, the four Sectors of the Suns know less about each other’s activities than I’d like to think… or two, the forces we fought on Sunova really were a splinter group with no current Black Suns affiliation.”

Travis sighed dejectedly. “…I guess if you look at things objectively, that second one has to be true…”

“It does seem that way… but it just doesn’t feel right… how would a splinter group have current and well-kept models of Black Suns mechs, armor, and weapons?”

The Captain shrugged. “Beats me. Man, though… the Black Suns sure are causing us a lot of headaches lately, huh?”

“Yeah…” Hackett muttered, stepping back up to her pistol and picking it up. “…Not just them, either. Everything we’ve been doing lately has been a headache.”

“I heard that your last couple missions were a real pain…” Travis commented, eying the Major as she took aim with her gun once more. “But, hey, there’s gotta be some leave on the horizon soon, right?”

“I try not to think about leave until I know we have it,” Hackett countered.

“Ha ha, good idea. Well…” Travis turned around to pick up his own gun. “Let’s at least hope that our next mission is a breeze, huh?”

“A breeze…” Hackett muttered, taking careful aim with her pistol before opening fire on the target. “…If only…”


*

“So, sir, how about that leave I mentioned?”

“Heh…” General Lead chuckled to himself as he looked Colonel Saito in the eye from across his desk in his office aboard the ISDS Opportunity. “Straight to the point, I see.”

“I would’ve brought this up yesterday if we didn’t get back to Earth so late,” Saito declared, standing in front of the General despite the two open chairs next to the desk. With his hands in his pockets and his expression grim, the Colonel looked down on Lead from the middle of the office as he continued, “sir… you know as well as I do that Operation New Dawn was a farce.”

“Oh? The reports say quite the opposite, Colonel. A complete operational success, with minimal casualties. That’s nothing to scoff at.”

“Respectfully, sir, the reports are meaningless. This op shouldn’t have happened in the first place.”

“I see…” Lead maintained firm eye contact with Saito for several seconds, his expression unreadable. Eventually, however, the General breathed a deep sigh and leaned back in his chair, allowing his gaze to drop from Saito’s. “On some level, you’re correct, Colonel. If the only objective was reclaiming Sunova and evicting the Black Suns, then Operation New Dawn, as designed, was entirely unnecessary.”

A displeased scowl formed on Saito’s face. “What other objective was there?” he questioned.

“One that I’m certain you’ll dislike,” the General replied with a bitter smile. “One that I’m sure you already know, in fact, whether or not you want to admit it.”

“Let me guess. Politics?”

“I suppose that is what it boils down to.”

“Are you telling me that two of our soldiers and an entire ‘splinter’ Black Suns platoon died because of SERRCom’s own internal politics?”

“Your concern for the deceased mech pilots, I can understand. But why the Black Suns? You’ve never voiced such a concern any other time you fought and killed enemy combatants.”

“Never before was there an obvious alternative. I’m stupid for not realizing this earlier, but there’s no way that both you and Shepherd failed to realize that all the reports of the Black Suns outpost never mentioned a bombardment shield. The Suns are already entirely unable to detect our Frigates, so it would have cost us nothing to scan their outpost from orbit, locate the beam jammer, obliterate it with a well-placed, low-power bombardment round, and then beam up all of the Suns into CENT-field protected cells. No one dies, and we have even more leverage against the Black Suns than we do right now. And yet, I couldn’t help but notice that the Frigates supporting the op weren’t equipped with precision orbital strike weaponry. I can only assume that Shepherd did that on purpose… and that you let him do it, all to justify a ground assault.” While still staring at the General, Saito mirrored Lead’s bitter smile. “But you’re about to tell me that this isn’t just about the Suns, aren’t you? That the reason Operation New Dawn went through is because of your relationship with Shepherd.”

“Shrewd as ever, Colonel,” Lead replied. “And at the same time… for a military officer, Saito, you certainly can be soft.”

“Is that a criticism?”

“No. It’s because of this side of you that I picked you to raise and train the Eximius Vir.” The General paused to take a deep breath; Saito simply watched him in silence, not wanting to interrupt the explanation he knew was soon to come. And then, just as the Colonel expected, Lead began again to speak. “You know well that Shepherd and I don’t see eye-to-eye, Saito. He is focused far too much on Earth itself, and rejects the idea that the other civilizations of the galaxy have anything to offer us — or that they’re anything other than rivals. He rejects the idea of cooperation for mutual benefit; he thinks that we’re being exploited.”

“He’s made that a secret to no one,” Saito replied.

“Yes, and that’s why it’s concerning. All of Earth knows his opinions on the matter, and still, many agree with him. Many nations agree with him. They hate the idea of Earth being the least-advanced homeworld of the galaxy, leading the smallest and weakest military in the galaxy, and they think that the solution to this is to hoard what few advantages we do have, in the hopes that we will eventually be able to get an upper hand on the likes of the CSA or the Nimalian Union. They think that we can do better in isolation than we can working with our allies.”

“So? Since when has SERRCom cared about public opinion? You sure as hell didn’t when you conscripted the recruits.”

“Heh… the truth is more complicated than that. It is true that the U.N.’s appointment of the General of the Space Forces every 5 years has become a formality since 2110, when Jennifer Dowley demonstrated just how powerful SERRCom had become. But the appointment in 2125 was closer than you would think, Saito. The possibility of Shepherd becoming the General of the Space Forces was very real; I won out in the end, but I can’t guarantee the same outcome next year.”

Saito’s expression hardened. “What are you saying, General?”

“If Shepherd were to lead SERRCom, then the long-term results for Earth would be disastrous,” Lead declared. “He’d destroy all our alliances, and all the progress we’ve made in establishing relationships with the nations and groups of the galaxy. I cannot allow that to happen. However, given his popularity, I can’t simply discard him, either. The fact that most of the General Forces do genuinely like him certainly doesn’t help. So, to keep him and his supporters placated, I have to throw him a bone every now and then — and that includes approving operations like Operation New Dawn, even when the Space Navy could get better results.”

“You’re telling me that two of our pilots died just because you don’t want to look like you’re playing favorites between Shepherd and Markovic?”

“It sounds trite when you state it that way, but I can’t deny that’s what it comes down to. You must understand, Saito: there isn’t a single doubt in my mind that if Shepherd were to command the entirety of SERRCom, then there would be more casualties than two pilots — be they Earthian, or not.”

“And you think you’re the best person to stop him?”

“There are a number of officers who would be good replacements eventually. Commander Markovic, for one. Admiral Nevaeh, Captain of the Carrier Earth, is another. But as of this moment, I am the only one with the popular support to oppose Shepherd, and I don’t see that changing before the U.N. appoints the next General of the Space Forces next year.”

“Tch…” Saito scowled, finally tearing his gaze away from Lead to glare off to the side. “…There has to be a better way.”

“The ‘better way’ is to prove to the world that Shepherd is wrong: to prove that mutual cooperation is truly beneficial to SERRCom and Earth,” Lead asserted. “And for that, I’d like your assistance, Colonel. You and your team, both.”

“Don’t try to butter me up. Not after that conversation,” Saito muttered. “If you want something done, then I’ll do it, so long as it really is for the betterment of SERRCom. I’ll acknowledge that Operation New Dawn might fit that criteria… for now. But consider this entire conversation to be my formal complaint, sir. I’d prefer to never see another farce like Operation New Dawn ever again.”

The General sagely bowed his head. “I understand, Colonel. And thank you for hearing me out and sticking with me this far.”

“Yeah, yeah… now, how about that leave? I’m feeling used, and I could tell that the rest of the team has been feeling the same. If we could at least get the week of Christmas off, it would do wonders for our spirits.”

“Heh, it is that time of year, isn’t it. Well, Saito, as luck would have it, there is indeed time to grant CSF-1 and the Eximius Vir some leave… albeit, with a caveat.”

“’Leave, with a caveat’ doesn’t sound like leave, sir.”

“There will still be time for you to relax, Saito. The short of it is thus: SERRCom has been invited to meet with the NSD during a military summit on Nimalia. The meeting is set to take place on Aldredath 31st — or December 26th, on our calendars. I’d like you and CSF-1 to represent us. You’d leave for Nimalia this upcoming Monday, spending time in Compound Tresnon for the days until the meeting. You can use that intervening time however you please.”

“Oi, oi, oi…” Saito muttered, and then sighed wearily. “…Well, it’s hard to argue with nearly two weeks of free time. But, on Nimalia, huh?”

“I really am sorry, Saito, but this summit was sprung on us short-notice. You’re the best man I have right now. Not to mention… I’ve been hearing some concerning reports out of Compound Tresnon and the school there. I’d like you to also check on the recruits and verify that it really is safe for them to remain there.”

“Oof. Even our ‘leave’ turns into a mission. Though I suppose it’s always been this way… alright, General, I’ll take it. But I’d still like some actual vacation time, soon.”

“I fully understand, Colonel, and I’ll see what I can do.”

“’You’ll see’, you say. Oi, oi, oi… the price we pay for being SERRCom’s highest-profile spec ops team…”

“It is as you say. You’re more valuable to SERRCom than you might think.”

“I’ll trust those words when I see some real vacation time and a nice, fat paycheck. In the meantime…” Saito began to turn toward the office’s exit. “Anything else, sir?”

“That’s all I have for you, Saito.”

“Great… well, then.” The Colonel grabbed the doorknob and threw open the office door, after which he quickly strode through it. “I’ll talk to you later, General.”