Battle Wounds (Honor and Duty)

  BATTLE WOUNDS

  An Honor & Duty short story.

  SAM SCHALL

  Hunter’s Moon Press

  Also by Sam Schall

  VENGEANCE FROM ASHES

  DUTY FROM ASHES

  HONOR FROM ASHES

  TAKING FLIGHT (A SHORT STORY IN THE HONOR AND DUTY UNIVERSE)

  BATTLE BOUND (A SHORT STORY IN THE HONOR AND DUTY UNIVERSE)

  Written as Amanda S. Green

  NOCTURNAL ORIGINS

  NOCTURNAL SERENADE

  NOCTURNAL INTERLUDE

  NOCTURNAL HAUNTS

  NOCTURNAL CHALLENGE

  SWORD OF ARELION

  DAGGER OF ELANNA

  Written as Ellie Ferguson

  HUNTED

  HUNTER’S DUTY

  HUNTER’S HOME

  SLAY BELLS RING

  WITCHFIRE BURNING

  WEDDING BELL BLUES

  This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2017 by Amanda S. Green (writing as Sam Schall)

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form.

  Hunter’s Moon Press

  Cover design by Sarah A. Hoyt

  Cover art: sci-fi character in ruined environment 3d illustration

  By oliman1st

  If you enjoyed this short story, please visit my website for information about upcoming titles.

  BATTLE WOUNDS

  “Ready . . .Aim . . . Fire!”

  Three times the order was given. Three times the sound of gunfire filled the air as uniformed Marines shouldered bolt-action rifles no longer carried by any member of the military. Even now, centuries after the last such rifle had been carried into battle, tradition required the rifles, lovingly recreated from plans long since declared obsolete, be brought out to honor the fallen. Much like the ceremony surrounding such funerals, the rifles harkened back to a different time and place.

  This wasn’t the first military funeral Captain Ashlyn Shaw had attended and she knew it would not be the last. They were at war with an enemy determined to destroy Fuercon and its allies. That meant deaths, possibly even her own, were inevitable. But that would not stop her from honoring the fallen.

  Unlike those other funerals, each time a volley sounded, Shaw could almost feel the bullets ripping through her. Tears burned her eyes as the honor guard carefully folded the Fuerconese flag draping the casket. Then, with a precision part of her could envy, Sergeant M. J. Adamson presented the flag to Major Paul Pawlak, their commanding officer. Expression grim, he accepted the flag and executed a precise about-face before taking a step toward the four people sitting at the front of those gathered to pay their respects one last time.

  In the week since the Wolf’s Bane returned in-system, three other members of First Division Second Battalion Delta Company had been laid to rest. Each Marine had lost his or her life, not fighting dirtside as planned, not even fighting to secure the Wolf’s Bane from boarders or in boarding an enemy vessel. They had died because the ship’s commander led Task Force Talon into a trap. Then he’d failed to order their withdrawal before the proverbial shit hit the fan.

  Shaw remained ramrod straight as Pawlak knelt in front of Corporal Camilla Lahti’s parents and younger brothers. He spoke softly for a few moments. She didn’t need to hear what he said to know he assured the family Lahti had been a valued member of the Devil Dogs and had died a hero. He wouldn’t tell them the truth about how she died, not here and maybe not ever. Knowing the circumstances of Lahit’s death would not help them cope with the knowledge their much-beloved Milla would never again return home.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Lahti, the Devil Dogs are your family now. If you need anything, all you need do is ask,” Pawlak said, raising his voice enough for the rest of them to hear.

  As one, the members of First Division Second Battalion, the Devil Dogs, responded, their voices ringing out on the wind. “Ooh-rah!”

  Pawlak handed Lahti’s other the now-folded flag. The moment he stood, Shaw called the Devil Dogs present, which meant every member not currently confined to the hospital, to attention. As one, their right hands slowly raised to salute their fallen comrade. Then, one by one, every other Marine unit present followed suit. The Corps would honor its dead and then take care of the living.

  Ooh-Rah!

  “Sgt. Adamson, dismiss the company,” Pawlak said softly as he moved to stand before the company’s senior NCO. Then he turned his attention to Shaw. “As for you, Captain, would you care to tell me what you’re doing out of the hospital? I’ll not ask how you managed to get hold of your uniform.” Despite his serious expression, amusement danced in his eyes as he glanced toward Adamson.

  “Sir, I needed to pay my respects to Cleo and her family,” she replied, using Lahti’s call sign.

  If Pawlak heard the hitch in her voice, he gave no indication. She waited, wondering if he would say anything more.

  “Stand easy, Captain.” He glanced around, as if making sure no one could overhear them. “Ash, I understand and would have done the same. Now I suggest you get your ass out of here and back to the hospital before the brass realizes you’re here without medical approval.”

  She nodded, recognizing the implicit warning in his words. By sneaking out, if limping out with the help of several Devil Dogs could be called sneaking, she gave the doctors reason to delay her return to duty, not that she cared. She had to be there to honor Lahti. The young woman died trying to save her and others of the company. Shaw had no doubt she stood there that day because of Lahti’s sacrifice.

  “Sarge, get her out of here – now!” Pawlak hissed as Adamson joined them.

  Concerned, Ashlyn glanced over her shoulder in the direction Pawlak had been looking. A moment later, she swallowed hard. A grizzled gunnery sergeant crossed the grass in their direction. As if realizing why he might be there, other members of the Devil Dogs moved toward him, greeting him. That slowed him enough for Ashlyn to turn to Adamson and nod once.

  “Too late,” the blonde said grimly as the gunny came to a stop before Pawlak and braced to attention.

  “What can I do for you, Gunny?”

  “Gunnery Sergeant Colin Kincaid, Sir,” the man said as Pawlak put him at his ease. “General Neuman sends his regards and requests the presence of Captain Shaw and Sergeant Adamson in his office immediately.”

  Ashlyn closed her eyes and fought the urge to grimace. When one received a “request” to report to General Neuman, one did not turn it down. In fact, if you were a Marine, you didn’t hesitate. You simply agreed and got there as quickly as possible. All she could hope for was that the Commandant of the Marine Corps understood why she had slipped her medical handlers.

  “Understood, Gunnery Sergeant.” She looked at Pawlak and gave a slight shrug. “If you will excuse us, Sir.”

  “Of course, Captain. Comm me when you are done.”

  “Aye, Sir.”

  She and Adamson braced to attention and saluted. This time, Ashlyn made no attempt to hide how much such a simple movement hurt. Pawlak would understand. Before dismissing them, Pawlak gave her a look that left no doubt what he’d meant when he said to com him. He wanted to know exactly why the Commandant wanted to see the two of them and he wanted to know before anyone else did. All she hoped was that they would emerge unscathed from this unexpected meeting with General Neuman.

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  “Admiral, it’s time.”

  Rear Admiral Richard Collins looked up and arched one brow in question. Fuercon might be at war but he ha
d been grounded for the last three months while FleetCom decided what to do with him, not that he’d done anything wrong. At least that’s what he kept telling himself. That didn’t help when the nightmares came or when he read the casualty reports, recognizing all too many names of those who had been killed or wounded.

  His place was in space, driving the enemy back, teaching them that Fuercon and her allies weren’t going to give in. Instead, he waited to learn what his fate would be. And why? He had followed orders and those orders had sent him and his command straight into an ambush they hadn’t been prepared for. He had lost people that day, men and women who shouldn’t have died. Men and women whose names and faces he’d take with him to the grave.

  Was he finally going to learn what FleetCom had planned for him? He hoped so. Almost anything beat sitting around while others did the fighting he had trained for.

  “What is it, Lieutenant?”

  “Sir, Admiral Jungst has sent for you. He said to, and I quote, get him here five minutes ago and tell him to quit worrying.” The young man colored slightly and Collins fought a grin. Judging by the way Lt. Akira refused to meet his eyes, he guessed the message had been a bit more to the point. Hopefully, that meant his forced leave was about to come to an end.

  Half an hour later, Collins stood in front of Admiral Stefan Jungst’s desk. Without looking up, the Chief of Naval Operations waved him to a seat. Collins obeyed, sitting as perfectly straight as a newly minted second lieutenant fresh out of the Academy. In some ways, that’s how he felt. His future, at least as a naval officer, rested on what Jungst had to say.

  A few minutes later, Jungst looked up. Seeing Collins sitting ramrod straight, booted feet flat on the floor, cover in his lap and his hands carefully holding it in place, the CNO shook his head. Whether in frustration or amusement or both, Collins neither knew nor cared. All that mattered was learning why he’d been sent for.

  “For God’s sake, Richard, at ease.” Exasperation filled Jungst’s voice. “I didn’t have you brought here to tell you you’re being drummed out of the Navy or demoted or any of the other worst case scenarios you’ve been imagining. So quit looking like I’m about to space you.” He waited until Collins nodded once and relaxed, leaning back and crossing his legs.

  “Then why did you send for me, Sir?”

  And why hadn’t he given him a head’s up? They had known one another for years. Collins was an unofficial uncle to Jungst’s children. Surely that counted for something.

  Before answering, Jungst reached out and touched an almost invisible button on his desk. For a moment, a soft hum filled the air. The silence that followed felt unnatural, as if something had been dropped over the room, trapping all light and sound inside. In a way, that was exactly what happened. Collins recognized the sound and the feeling. Sitting up once again, alert and concerned, he waited, wondering why the CNO had instituted higher than usual security measures.

  Without a word, Jungst handed him an old-fashioned leather binder. “This isn’t to leave your possession. When you’ve read it, and committed it to memory, you are to destroy everything inside. This isn’t to be discussed with anyone outside of this office until you have left on your mission. Is that understood?”

  Collins glanced at the pages inside the binder. As he did, his lips pulled back in an almost feral smile and his heart beat a little faster. Finally. FleetCom had finally decided to take action he and others had been recommending for much too long.

  “Understood, Sir. With your permission, I will review the material in your outer office and make sure it is destroyed before leaving.”

  “You can use this office, Richard. I have a meeting I have to leave for shortly.” Jungst leaned back, his expression serious. “Richard, I’m not going to lie. This could blow up in your face – our faces – even worse than your last mission did. I’m asking you to act as bait. You know what can go wrong before reinforcements arrive.”

  “I do.” He glanced at the pages again before continuing. “But this time I’m aware of the potential for trouble. Trust me, those bastards won’t get the drop on me again.”

  “That’s what we’re relying on.” Jungst gave a slight smile but the twinkle in his eyes warned Collins he had more up his sleeve. “The Corps is giving you two of their best to make sure the Marines assigned to the mission are up to the task. I wish we could send the Devil Dogs but that would give away our plan and make you a much less appealing target.”

  “Understood.” And he did, not that he wouldn’t like having at least one company of Devil Dogs with him. “Who are you sending?”

  “Two who have as much reason to find out how and why are ships are so easily being ambushed as you do.”

  ∞ ∞ ∞

  General Bryce Neuman sat back and studied the two women standing at attention in front of his desk. Both bore the signs of fighting. Shaw looked the worse for wear and, considering how carefully she moved when she first entered his office, he had no doubt she should still be in hospital. He also understood why she had slipped the leash, so to speak, to attend Corporal Lahti’s funeral. From everything he’d read and heard about what happened on the Wolf’s Bane, Lahti had died a hero. She gave her life to save not only the two women standing before him but a number of others as well, Marine and Navy alike. He would make sure her name went down on the rolls as one of the many who went above and beyond to do her duty no matter what the cost. It was the least he could do for her, her family and her company.

  Before putting them at their ease, he spent another moment studying them. Shaw had been a Devil Dog for several years. During that time, she’d built a reputation within not only the division but throughout the Corps as being all Marine, one worthy of the name Shaw. Like her parents and her maternal grandfather before her, she was everything a Devil Dog should be. Many already wondered if she wasn’t being groomed to one day take over for Pawlak, not that Shaw saw it. In fact, Neuman doubted she had spared much time even thinking about one day commanding the DDs. She struck him as a Marine who simply wanted to do her duty and help keep Fuercon and her allies safe.

  As for Adamson, the blonde had the reputation of being one of the Corps’ finest active duty non-coms and a demon on the obstacle course. Every senior non-com and officer he knew who had served with her, or with those who trained under her, had nothing but praise. She was exactly the sort of sergeant they needed to help bring their enlisted and junior officers up to snuff if they were going to win this war. Even better, in his mind at least, was her dedication to her CO.

  He wished he had the luxury of letting Shaw and Adamson remain on Fuercon to recover from their injuries. More than that, he wished he felt better about the mission he was about to send them on. Not that he had a choice. He needed people he could trust to do whatever was necessary to insure the mission’s success. If only he could send more of the Devil Dogs with them. But he couldn’t, at least not directly. Now, if they would not only understand but go along with the plan.

  “Take a seat.” He motioned to the two chairs in front of his desk and waited as they complied. “Before we get into why I sent for you, there are a couple of matters to take care of.”

  Most people would never notice either woman’s reaction. After so many years in command, he’d learned what to look for. Anderson’s quick breath was much more of a giveaway than the quickening of Shaw’s pulse, betrayed only because his ocular implant noted it at her throat. Other than that, they appeared almost relaxed. Good. That ability to mask their feelings would come in handy all too soon – assuming they accepted the assignment he was about to propose.

  “Captain, let me start by saying you’re in no trouble for leaving the hospital. I’ve spoken with your doctors and, while they still feel you need to be under their watchful eye, they’ve agreed to release you under certain conditions.”

  Her reaction this time was more obvious. Some of the tension left her shoulders and one corner of her mouth quirked up before she had it under control. Then she glan
ced at Adamson and gave the sergeant a quick nod. That confirmed for Neuman the blonde had facilitated Shaw’s escape from the watchful eyes of the doctors and nurses. It told him something else. Shaw had worried about the potential consequences of her actions, not for herself but for her sergeant and that confirmed everything he knew about her. No matter what the consequences to herself, she would always worry about those under her command more.

  Ooh-rah!

  “Thank you, Sir.” Another glance at Adamson. “And the sergeant?”

  “As far as I’m concerned, Captain, the two of you simply met up at Corporal Lahti’s funeral.”

  For a moment, Shaw held his gaze and nodded once again, apparently satisfied with his answer.

  “Of course, General.” Her lips twitched into something close to a slight smile. “Thank you.”

  “I expect you and Major Pawlak to let me know if Corporal Lahti’s family need anything.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  He leaned back and studied her for a moment. As he did, he wondered if she realized her right hand now cupped the left side of her ribcage. His quick review of her record confirmed she had several broken ribs, not to mention torn cartilage in her left shoulder and much more. Her nose still showed signs of being badly broken. He knew she had been trapped under part of a collapsed bulkhead for close to twelve hours before being freed. He doubted she’d allowed the medics to treat her until the more seriously injured had been seen to. The fact she didn’t look worse, or hadn’t suffered even more serious injuries, was a miracle.

  “Captain, let me begin by commending you and your company and extending my sympathies on your injuries and losses during your last mission.”

  Shaw’s expression darkened but it was nothing like the flare of anger that crossed Adamson’s face.