The Mighty First, Episode 2 Read online

  Manny had fallen asleep on the floor between the beds, cuddling a pillow; an empty bottle of beer still clutched in one hand. He issued another ripping fart, giving himself away as the culprit of the first.

  Pinching her nose, Minerva eased out of bed and stumbled toward the bathroom, careful not awaken Ecu and Amell on the

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  second bed, their furry, partly-naked bodies curled tightly in on themselves, sleeping as cats would. As she gently closed the door and turned on the light, Minerva caught sight of herself in the mirror and froze, eyes wide. The image that was looking back at her was unfamiliar; again, bringing flashbacks of boot camp. This was the second time that she had looked into a mirror, and not recognized herself. Her hair had grown out a little, now touching her shoulders. Her breasts poked up from beneath her undershirt, and her hips curved nicely, but that was the extent of any pleasantness that she could see. Her face was hardened, no longer that of the teen-age girl that had left home only a year before. This was the face of a woman--- wiser, no longer innocent. A killer. She was still pretty, at least she thought so, but had to finally accept the fact that the little girl inside was gone forever.

  Like Ford, Minerva was laced with bruises, mostly on her arms, the worst across the small of her back. She remembered getting that one. A rocket-propelled grenade had hit scant feet behind her, its blast throwing her to the ground. Two troopers

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  who had been mere inches closer to the detonation had both lost a leg. It was amazing how the difference of a few inches could dictate survival, of how random death could sometimes be.

  She touched her rock-hard belly. Rigorous exercise and constant activity had her form chiseled. The nano-injections that all females received upon enlisting kept them from menstruating, and prevented pregnancy; one of its side-effects was muscle build-up. Minerva tried to imagine someday being swollen with a baby. This brought fantasies of she and Mark being married and living the wonderfully mundane life of a civilian family. She loved him dearly, and he seemed truly enamored with her. It was easy to picture spending the rest of her life with him with a house of their own, filled with children.

  A rap at the door startled her back to reality.

  “Hurry up, I’m gonna pee myself.”

  That came from Ecu. Minerva told her to wait a minute and hurried to do her business. After flushing, she let her in, “Do you mind if I shower while you do your thing?”

  Ecu waved a hand as if to say ‘go ahead’, and squatted atop

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  the toilet in the peculiar fashion that the Attayans had, moaning in relief as urine poured out of her. The girl’s fur was sticking out in all directions, as if charged with static electricity, and she shivered in pleasure. This made Minerva giggle and Ecu flipped her the bird, peering through one open eye.

  When the shower water finally got hot, the sergeant pulled off her under-clothes and got in, feeling instantly refreshed. She savored the heat of it rushing over her, and the steam that swirled around in the air. The sweet aroma of the complimentary shampoo was almost an alien thing, long forgotten.

  “I feel Human again,” Ecu said, stepping down from the toilet and washing her hands and face in the sink. “A whole month of freedom ahead of us! I don’t know what to do with myself!”

  Amell squeezed into the narrow bathroom for her chance at the toilet, looking every bit as disheveled as her fellow Attayan, “I’m going to see the sights,” The albino announced. “I’ve always wanted to visit the Grand Canyon. We‘ve nothing like that back home.”

  “Maybe I’ll tag along,” Ecu told her, wiping her face fur

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  and pointed ears with a wet hand towel.

  Minerva poked her head around the shower curtain, “Why don’t you girls share a flight with Mark and me? We’re going to Winslow to see my parents. You could crash with us at my mom’s house, and we’ll take a trip to the Canyon together for my honeymoon.”

  “Sounds alright by me,” Ecu told her. “Your mom won’t mind?”

  “I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Minerva assured her.

  “You haven’t been able to speak with your parents since the war broke out, have you?” Amell asked.

  “No,” Minerva replied, “And my engagement with Mark is going to be the cherry on the cake! We’re going to get married while we’re there.”

  The bathroom door was shoved open right then, and Ford dashed in. He grabbed Amell, and effortlessly yanked her from the toilet, vomiting into it without a second to spare. She rolled her eyes and smoothed out her fur, “I would think a brute like you could handle your booze with more finesse,” Amell teased.

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  Ford belched and flushed the mess, which drew a yelp and curses from Minerva, who was suddenly deluged with all hot water behind the shower curtain. Ecu made a noise of irritation and gently pushed him out of the bathroom, “Men, by the Creator!”

  Out in the room, the boys were rousing, groggy-eyed and yawning. Ford made a face, “You two are a sight!”

  Mark tossed a pillow at him.

  The sergeant major went to the open window and breathed deeply, muttering to himself, then glanced back at Manny, “You play that butt-trumpet one more time, I’ll cork it with my boot!”

  Manny rubbed at his head and grumbled an apology, “It was all that greasy food at the buffet.”

  Mark got up and began rummaging for his clothes. He plopped down in the chair at the desk and regarded his socks with wonder. One had been stretched to an incredible length, and the other had the toe chewed out of it. He couldn’t remember how or why.

  Still leaning against the sill, Ford chuckled at Mark’s expression, “Attayan cat toys,” he said.

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  Mark shrugged and put them on anyway, followed by his fatigues and boots, “Right after breakfast, I’m buying some blue jeans. Maybe a shirt with a collar. I’ll have to look good for my wedding.”

  Ford laughed again, “Blue jeans and a shirt with a collar. You think Minerva ‘s going to let you show up at her wedding looking like a hick?”

  Mark made a face, “I’ll get some slacks, too.”

  Ford shook his head and began gathering his own clothes, “Well, good luck with that.”

  The master sergeant shifted in his chair, thinking. “Can I ask you something, Dwayne?”

  Ford nodded while he tried to pull up a pant leg and lost his balance, falling onto the floor next to the bed.

  “Would you consider coming to Arizona with us?”

  Ford pulled up his trousers, out of breath, partly hung-over. “Why would you want me trailing along after we’ve been in each other’s faces for five weeks?”

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  Mark cleared his throat, “Well, I was wondering if you’d be my best man.”

  Ford paused, giving him a serious look from where he lay on the floor.

  “You remind me of my dad,” Mark ventured, “I consider you a good friend, and I don’t think my father would have disapproved.”

  Ford’s face softened and he looked away, out the window. The young man’s father and older brother had been declared killed in action during the naval battle at the Kuiper Asteroid Limit. Ford knew that he was still struggling with it. The sergeant major looked back again, smiling, “It’d be an honor, you prick. Now, help me up off of this floor.”

  XXXXX

  As it turned out, all six of them had decided to travel together, turning Minerva’s Winslow wedding into a shared vacation. Ford went to the command quarters to file the paperwork for the passes and the airline arrangements, while the others wandered downtown to buy some civilian attire.

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  New Bedford was bustling for a smallish town, and the citizens were delighted
to have the troops quartered there. The department store refused to accept payment for the clothing, insisting that the kids take it for free. They encountered the same hospitality at the café where they stopped to indulge in some hard-to-find java. People constantly approached them and gave thanks for their service and sacrifice, so much so as to make it a bit uncomfortable. It was also painfully clear how badly things had been for the civilian population since the invasion. People were horribly thin from malnourishment, moving slowly as they walked. Their expressions were solemn, framed by darkened circles that encompassed eyes sunken into skulls. The citizens had so little, yet were willing to share it all with the servicemen and women that had returned their freedom to them. The kids decided to head back to the relative peace of their hotel room, glad to have some privacy.

  “So, that’s what it’s like to be a celebrity, “Manny commented as they entered the room, his bag of clothes tucked under one arm.

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  “I’m not sure that I care for it,” Ecu said with a bit of distaste. “Awkward.”

  The room had already been serviced, even the mattresses on the floor had clean sheets and pillows, and the windows were left open to air out the stale aroma of liquor. A note on the desk informed them that a free lunch buffet was waiting for them downstairs in the restaurant. Manny was ready to go take advantage of it.

  “One fart out of you, and you’re right out that window,” Amell warned him.

  Manny feigned innocence.

  The lock clicked and the door opened, admitting Ford, who was waving six yellow envelopes, “Round-trip flight orders, right here,” he announced.

  Minerva squealed in delight and hugged him, taking the tickets and examining them. Ford moved past her, a shopping back slung over one shoulder, “Command gave us all fourteen days leave, with a day of travel time both ways. We’ll be flying military transport from here to Dallas, then commercial to Phoenix

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  Sky Harbor. Another military shuttle will take us the rest of the way to Winslow.”

  “When do we leave?” Ecu asked.

  “Six in the morning,” Ford told her, “Arriving in Winslow by nine in the evening.”

  Mark was reclining on one of the beds, rummaging through his new clothes, “Are you going to call your parents?” He asked of Minerva.

  She could hardly stand still, “No, I want to surprise them. I’m so excited, I can’t stand it!”

  Ford had flopped down on his mattress by the window, yawning, “Well, no drinking tonight, boys and girls. Let’s get our rest for the trip tomorrow.”

  Manny was hovering near the door, holding his stomach, “Can we go get some lunch?”

  Amell sighed and rolled her eyes at Ecu, “All this guy does is eat!”

  Ford pointed, his brow furrowed, “Keep that gas plant under control tonight!”

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  “Come on!” Manny pleaded.

  Mark chose a pair of pants and a shirt, then headed for the bathroom, “I need a shower before I go anywhere.”

  Amell took Manny’s arm, “I’m going to feed the baby before he has a fit. We’ll save you guys some seats.”

  Ford waved them off, adding, “Just keep him away from the beans!”

  XXXXX

  Indianapolis, Indiana

  Storian Command and Control

  The motorcade made its way through the streets of uptown with little effort as the hummer-jeeps closed intersections ahead of it, stopping traffic and warning pedestrians back from the crosswalks. Soldiers who were on foot patrol stopped and saluted respectfully as the line of armored vehicles passed, the flag of the Storian Empire flapping from the bumpers. Even a few of the civilians waved. Some were genuine traitors who had been

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  brainwashed into believing that Grozet represented the Chosen Race, but most did it simply to avoid being singled out as potential trouble-makers. It required little for the Storian Secret Police to come knocking on one’s door, and take them away for ‘re-education’. Most who were arrested were never seen again. Those who did return were never the same, casting vacant stares and speaking in one-word dialogues that were often directed at walls or furniture. Being re-educated was the equivalent of a lobotomy.

  The motorcade turned into the parking garage of a luxury hotel, where uniformed city police blocked the entrance after they had entered. The Terran police force had been permitted to conduct its limited duties under the watchful eye of the Storians. This took some of the burden from the occupying force in maintaining civil control. Most of the officers had turned their badges in when the offer was made. When soldiers had taken them to the police parking lot and shot them, the remaining policemen opted to remain on duty, and obey the new enforcement requirements--- if for no other reason than to stay alive.

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  No one could blame them.

  The motorcade stopped before the elevators and soldiers piled out of the escort vehicles, forming a protective ring, and a lieutenant walked over to the center Jeep to open the steel-plated door, saluting.

  Grozet climbed out, his uniform as perfectly smart as his form. He ignored the officer and strode toward the elevator, followed by his security detail. His expression was stern, mouth clenched in anger. He radiated fury, and his guards could feel it. They were uneasy in his presence when he was in a foul mood. Any infraction, real or imagined, could result in facing a firing squad. Or worse.

  Once in the elevator with his pair of senior guards, he gnashed his teeth and snarled out-loud, pounding a fist against the wall. The guards pretended not to notice. One glanced at the other, and a silent look of understanding was exchanged between them---someone was going to have a very unpleasant meeting.

  By the time the doors opened to the lobby, Grozet was back in disciplined stature, looking cool and collected. He stepped out

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  and crossed the luxurious surroundings without taking notice of them. His gaze was locked on to the form of another high-ranking officer, who waited with guards of his own near a wet-bar. The small group snapped to attention at his approach.

  Grozet said only two words to the other officer, “Follow me.”

  The pair entered one of the conference suites, and the guards closed the doors behind them. Once alone, Grozet spun on Over- Marshall Garrow, grabbing him by the throat, eyes blazing with barely controlled fury.

  “I should gut you, and hang your carcass in the streets for all to see!”

  Garrow stood utterly still, hands at his sides, and waited for his superior to calm himself. If Grozet had intended to kill him, the knife would already be in his stomach. After a moment, the grip was released and Grozet snorted in disgust. He turned away and paced the front of the room, arms folded, shaking his head.

  “I warned you that the Terrans were not as simple-minded as they had led you to believe, “he spewed. “ That they were

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  planning something, rather than simply lying down and waiting for defeat!”

  Garrow rubbed at his throat and took a seat at the nearest table, “No one anticipated that the Attayans would turn back our second wave at the asteroid belt. When the Terran star-subs nuked our orbital fleet over the planet, it left us scrambling to prepare for a ground assault without knowing where it would take place. We have untold square miles to cover, My Lord, both here on the mainland, and the Pacific Front.”

  “Explain to me how this counter-strike of theirs was even able to get this far,” Grozet demanded, speaking without facing him, a form of insult in their culture.

  Garrow folded his hands atop the table and endured the disrespect, keeping his voice professional, “The Mexican government has offered military support to the American Army. The Europeans have done the same. The Asiatic Alliance has
mobilized against our communications units in the Pacific region. We are facing an onslaught of coordinated retaliations, and haven’t enough manpower to cover all of the fronts without that re-supply

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  convoy. The North American combined forces launched a coordinated offensive all across the southern lines. We had no choice but to bolster our strength along that front, and I did so by pulling resources from the eastern line, where no activity was taking place.”

  Grozet nodded, breathing deeply, trying to reign in his temper, “And then, the Attayan allied armies dropped from orbit and attacked us on that very spot. The eastern front”

  The over-marshal sighed, “Yes, my Lord. A more specialized branch that the Americans refer to as ‘Marines’. With Attayan elite support, these Marines have managed to establish a beach head on the Ohio Line, and are pushing inland. They have already liberated two cities, though the most recent one was destroyed in doing so.”

  “Those elements of my First Army held out with no support for this entire time?” Grozet asked, finally turning to face him.

  Garrow nodded, “Yes. Only with covering fire from one of our air wings did the remaining soldiers manage to withdraw

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  somewhat intact. We leveled the city and ordered those who were left to fall back to Akron.”

  Grozet clenched his fists, “I have to admit that these ‘Marines’ appear to be formidable warriors. They have managed to put one over on me. It doesn‘t help that so many independent unions have joined forces against us, either.”