The War to End All Wars

Continued...

�I have taken note of that, yes. Who is the Drill Sergeant here?�
Caius shrugged sheepishly. �We call him Sarge.� He said, not really recalling the DS ever telling them his name. �Wirehead,� Creed said into the air. �Who is the Drill Sergeant here?�
�Harvey Roberts. Brief tour of duty during the end of the guild wars and participated in the defense of Tarsonis on three separate occasions. No medals for extraordinary service.� The reply came so quickly it almost scared Caius. �So Sergeant Roberts doesn�t make the men train hard enough?�
�Huh? Lord no sir. He treats us like pack animals with guns. I remember the oath he forced us to chant during our first days here. �This is my gun, it�s name is Rosie. Without me, it is useless. Without it, I am useless.�� �Then why are the men so undisciplined? They should have less free will than Wirehead out there.�

�I don�t know sir.�
�Wirehead, find me Sergeant Roberts and bring him here. Now.�
�I already had him summoned sir.� The disembodied voice replied.
Within moments, Sergeant Roberts was walking into the room, trembling with anger. He seemed about to open his mouth and let loose when he saw Creed, and stopped dead in his tracks. Creed motioned Roberts to a seat, the Sergeant quickly taking it.
�Sergeant Roberts, I have called you here to address you about a topic very dear to me: discipline. Or in this case, lack thereof.� Creed said, folding his arms and leaning back into his chair. The statement seemed to snap the Sergeant out of his awed reverie.

�Sir, Caius might gripe off duty but I assure you���I�m not talking about Caius or any of the other Ghosts, at least not for now. Caius�s performance was satisfactory. The marines on this little expedition however� they should follow the directions of their commander absolutely. Caius had not told them to fire, so they should not have fired unless their lives were in direct danger, for instance, if one of them had been killed. However, they did fire, and their disobedience cost us valuable field data.�
�Sir, these marines are hard to train��
�WHAT?!?� Creed stood up, starting straight at Roberts. �Marines have implants in their heads that do half the friggin job for you! If you don�t give me a reason for that lie immediately I will cut your head off and stake it up as a warning to all other incompetent officers!�

Roberts�s face reddened at that, speaking in a barely suppressed yell. �If you had read your briefing fully on the previous Magistrate and his government Sir, you would know that we are no longer allowed to use certain training methods for marines and there are limits on the number of functions the chips can suppress.�
Creed�s jaw nearly hit the table at that. He struggled to speak. �How��
�The previous government was civilian and the Magistrate bent to their orders often so��
�Ah. Well then. This is angering, but understandable.� Creed sat back down, sighing. �Sergeant Roberts I confer upon you power to ignore those laws pertaining to limits on training until such time as I eliminate them. Requisition a construction squad to build you a better training field and facility. Plus, you may also requisition any staff you need for an academy. Remember, that if I call you in next time and it�s not to congratulate you then��

�I understand sir.�
�Good. Then you are both dismissed.��So what�d �God� say anyway.�
Caius looked at Jesse, sighing. They had retired to the barracks, trying to get their requisite eight hours of sleep. The idea of gender-separated barracks had long ago been disposed of, since the chips in their heads kept the marines from freaking out, and the Ghosts could more than handle themselves. �Nothing important for us, really.� He stretched out, messing the sheets that were made so crisp that morning. �But we will be getting some better marines soon.�
Jessie sighed, looking from the floor to him. �Think it�ll make any difference?�

�No. All I�m concerned about it all available Ghosts are supposed to be ready to be called for scout duty anytime that the higher-ups feel that there needs to be a local sweep. Damn, one SCV is destroyed and the entire base is on Red Alert.� Caius pushed his head further into the pillow.
Jessie sat up suddenly. �Since when? I don�t remember hearing about that!�
�Order came down at 1800. Marines on six-hour bunker shifts, two marine scouts search the outer perimeter, Ghosts to provide any tactical data needed. Which, of course, means that they put us out further than the marines, and say, �Look for anything suspicious.��

�This is BS! We can�t do those kinds of shifts! Hell, we can barely cloak for 45 minutes! What the hell are we supposed to when the generators run out if the enemy attacks!?� �Pray. Run. Die in a blaze of glory. As long as we can tell the base where they�re coming from first the brass really don�t care what happens to us. Nova Squad is coming in soon, remember?�
Jessie sighed heavily, flopping back down onto her bunk. �Well ain�t think some BS.� She looked at Caius. �At least you�ll be able to take the punishment.�,br> Caius was tall, and very well defined; the rigors of the Ghost program brought that to every recruit. His dark-brown eyes already seemed far to hollow for his age, his round face having too many scars for a man of 24.
�Me? You�ll be taking the punishment with me Jess.� He rolled over in his bunk. �Now get some sleep. If my feeling are right, it�s gonna be the last good night�s rest we get for a good long while.�

Continues..

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