Eric Spears

There might have been almost a hundred Marines in the VR chamber. Everyone looked sharp and impressive in their dress blacks. It seemed like every regiment had someone present, along with non-Fleet Marine Force units, such as FSF, Fleet Security Force and SMF, Station Marine Force detachments. Eric didn’t see anyone with fewer than two hashmarks on their sleeve. Since a hashmark indicated five years of service there were plenty of experienced Marines in the room. More than a few had five or six hashmarks on their sleeves indicating thirty or thirty-five years of service.

Several people had broken up into different groups, either they had served together or some people were a lot better at making friends than Eric was. A quick glance showed Eric there wasn’t anyone he recognized so he sat quietly waiting for the presenter to arrive.

A petite woman sat down next to Eric. Her red hair was cut so short it looked to be nothing more than coloring on her head. Like Eric, she had five hashmarks on her sleeve. Standing up she barely reached his shoulder.

“Hi,” she said. “I’m Wade.”

“Hello,” Eric said. “Spears.”

“Any relation to the Colonel and General?” she asked.

Eric nodded and tried to keep his face blank, devoid of the annoyance he felt.

Wade nodded, hopefully picking up on it.

“I see the resemblance,” she said, looking around at other Marines.

“You served under them?” Eric asked.

“Not exactly,” Wade said. “Had Colonel Spears aboard the LRS Skyburn years ago when I was doing FSF. He hung out with us lowly commandos a little. He seemed like a pretty intense guy. Is he your father?”

“He is my uncle, but he helped raise me,” Eric said.

“That must have been rough,” Wade said.

“I think he was friendlier with Marines,” Eric said.

Wade shook her head.

“He wasn’t that friendly,” she said. “But he knew a lot and taught us some neat tricks.”

“So why do you want to join the mission?” Eric asked.

“Because I don’t want to sit around the home system for my entire enlistment and not have a chance to come face to face with UE troops,” Wade said. “This war could go on for a few years, or decades, and there is no guarantee the UE’s will ever send troops to Leonis Minoris for us to fight. This way I have a chance of getting up close and personal with the UE’s best. What about you?”

‘Because my uncle told me to’ was not an answer Eric wanted to give her.

“It will be something different,” Eric said. “Maybe more chance for promotion to cadre.”

Wade nodded.

“The Spears dynasty sounds ambitious,” she said. “Lots of officers.”

Eric shrugged.

“Is that why you are a Marine?” she asked. “To extend the Spears dynasty?”

“No,” Eric said. “My brother isn’t a Marine. For me? I think it is just in my blood. The personal challenge of individual combat. I couldn’t imagine being anything other than a Marine.”

Wade smiled.

“What about you?” Eric asked. “Why the Marines?”

A tall woman who could have been a nordic amazon walked over. Her eyes took in Eric but she remained expressionless until Wade turned to see who Eric was looking at.

“Wade!” said the amazon.

“Coleman!” Wade said looking up at the bigger woman who was just as tall as Eric. The two were very mismatched in size.

“Spears, meet Sophia Coleman,” Wade said. “Coleman meet, uh.”

“Eric,” Eric said for her.

“Eric Spears, of the Spears dynasty,” Wade said with a smile.

Coleman nodded with a half smile.

“So you made it too?” Wade asked Coleman.

“What?” Coleman said. “You think I would let you have all the fun?”

“Did you get a waiver for fighter ops?” Wade asked.

Coleman smiled and shook her head.

“Nope,” she said. “Finally got through it. I hate drone fighter operations. With a passion. What about you? Get logistics figured out?”

Wade nodded.

“Yes,” Wade said. “But that is just mindless memorization. Mind numbing to say the least. Managing beans, bullets and bandages are best left to AI’s, not trigger pullers.”

“Attention on deck,” a disembodied voice announced and everyone stood up and came to attention. Coleman grabbing an empty chair next to Wade.

In front of the chamber, near a podium, several officers appeared.

There were two majors, a captain and a lieutenant. The Captain stepped up to the podium and looked around.

“At ease,” he said. “Please sit.”

The other officers stood nearby, their eyes scanning the rows of Marine commandos.

“Everything you see and hear from now until otherwise directly informed is classified as top secret,” the captain said. “You have all been invited to participated in the selection process. We are selecting forty commandos for Operation Shadow Strike. Marines selected will act as ship board Marines aboard a vessel similar to the LRS Reaper which is currently in Union of Enlightenment space conducting combat operations. This is a very high risk mission and is likely to involve unusual operations, which will require a high degree of mental flexibility and fortitude. You will be required to re-enlist for a minimum of ten more years. If this goes beyond your enlistment limit then waivers will be granted.”

The captain glanced over at the majors.

One of the majors, a tall serious woman nodded, and the captain took a deep breath.

“This is unlike any Marine mission,” the captain said. “You may be required to kill civilian personnel in the execution of your duties. Maybe even unarmed civilians.”

One Marine raised his hand.

“Why?” the Marine asked when the captain looked toward him.

The captain scowled at the Marine.

“Because some civilians may be more important to ending the war than enemy troops,” the Captain said. “We may target politicians, judges, political advisers, scientists, specialized contractors, technicians or engineers. Anyone or anything the commodore in charge of the mission determines is helping the Union of Enlightenment wage war on the Leonis Republic. This could even be the prime minister’s baby daughter. The goal is to end the war and to kill anyone that is opposed to that goal. The commodore will have full command and control. Her authority will be unquestionable. Her methods and actions will be classified. That means your actions will also be classified, probably forever.”

Eric’s thoughts turned toward his uncle. What had he seen and done? What horrors had he inflicted on the Han? Had he killed children of Han politicians?

Lieutenant Bishop’s words came back to him. Could it be that bad?

“If at any time you want to quit,” the Captain said. “You may do so without penalty. This is not what you signed up for and this is not what the Republic stands for. Everyone involved in this mission knows that and there is no disgrace in quitting.”

Everyone remained silent.

“Very well,” the Captain said and a message appeared in Eric’s queue notification. “You have all received information on your first trial of this selection process. The trial will begin tomorrow at 8am, Wolf standard. You will be graded in your performance and success. Good luck and Semper Vig.”

“Attention on deck,” the disembodied voice called out. Everyone leapt to their feet to stand at attention as the officers walked out the nearby door.

When they were gone the voice announced, “Carry on.”

“Wow,” Wade said without any enthusiasm. “This is going to be fun.”

“I wonder if we are going to be shooting babies in the first trial or the last?” Coleman said.

Everyone scowled.

“Good luck,” Wade said to Eric.

“You too,” Eric said and nodded to both Wade and Coleman before disconnecting to read the orders in peace.