Chapter 2
Friday – 9:30 AM FST – October 29, 2250
Colonel David Bishop ordered the Fifth Battalion to a halt on the outskirts of Elysium. After the punishing pace, he was sure that the rest of the men were just as tired and winded as he was. He removed the Ashaki rifle from his shoulder, placing the butt of the sleek weapon on the ground. As the men stood in place to regain their breath, Bishop surveyed the landscape. The Battalion had just emerged from the forest’s border into a large clearing about 600 feet from the treeline up to the gates of Elysium. The town’s location, from what he could see of it, was not what he had expected. It was situated on a plateau of what must have originally been a very wide and tall hill that was a short distance away from the mountain itself. As the column had been moving along the road, Bishop had spotted the edge of a cliff through the forest on the north side. Sure enough, the cliff cut along the northern side of Elysium giving the town a convenient natural defense on one side as the entire cliff around the plateau was steep.
“I’m starting ta like this town Colonel darling,” Mac said as he moved up to Bishop’s side. “I was not expecting such a defensible position, let alone walls and a gate around the place.”
Before Bishop could reply, all of a sudden Mac’s easygoing demeanor changed to an enraged mask and then barked at a marine who had sat down, “Malarkey! Who told ya ta sit down!”
“No one Captain,” came the quick shout as the marine jumped to his feet.
“I was not aware that ya were a princess,” Mac looked over at a company of female marines nearby, “no offense ta ya ladies, that ya didn’t need permission ta sit down.”
“Sorry Captain! Won’t happen again!”
Mac then shouted out, “Battalion, with the exception of Malarkey here, sit for a few minutes!”
Malarkey groaned as everyone around started laughing as they sat down.
“Aw Captain,” Malarkey whined.
“Alright princess Malarkey,” Mac said with a mischievous glint in his eye, ‘you may sit down as well.”
Bishop’s demeanor remained neutral as he picked up his rifle and slung it back over his shoulder before resuming the conversation as if nothing had interrupted. “Those metal walls must be around 10 feet high and that gate looks like it could withstand a major beating. Let’s get inside and see the layout of the place. Mac, head into town while I get the Battalion moving and organized. Find the Mayor and inform them that we are going to need everyone’s help defending this place and that I’ll want to coordinate with them.”
“Your wish is my command Colonel darling,” Mac said with a smile and trotted off towards the gates.
The marines in the immediate vicinity smiled as they always did when Mac called Bishop darling. It was only due to the fact that Bishop owed so much to Mac, the person who brought him into the GFP, and their friendship since then, that he didn’t take it as a sign of disrespect. That, and no one in their right mind would want to mess with the former drill sergeant.
He ordered the Fifth Battalion to move out and they quickly reached the gates, located on the southern side of the hill, which was being manned by a middle-aged man. As the citizen opened the gate, he asked Bishop, “Colonel, is it true? The Captain said that the Cren are coming.”
“That is correct,” Bishop replied as he passed through the three-foot thick gate and walls. He had noticed the sign on the gate which bore the GFP logo, making the town a government-sponsored one as he stepped aside, allowing the rest of the marines through.
“Space me,” the citizen exclaimed as he watched the marines come through the gate.
Citizen, not civilian. It was a distinct difference in the GFP that Bishop had quickly learned about when he had made a break for the GFP Embassy on Earth with the police chasing after him. There were two classes of Citizens. Both classes had to have served for two years in any military branch. However, there were a couple of differences. In order to be a first-class citizen, you also had to allow the government to monitor your communications, comings and goings, and such. Though immediate family were made citizens as well if at least one family member served. In addition, first-class citizens only paid 10 percent in taxes and lived in tax-free homes. Second class citizens had more privacy but had to pay 15 percent in taxes and a 5 percent landowner tax. Then there were the civilians who were not monitored, unless certain words or actions flagged the system, but had to pay 20 percent in taxes and 10 percent for any land they owned. These were the more obvious perks of each class in the GFP. A class system that was created to accommodate those who valued their privacy and those who didn’t care if the government knew what they were doing.
The epithet from the citizen was unsurprising given how dire things were for the system if the Cren had been successful in destroying the fleet. What was happening with the fleet was a big concern, but without any timely means of communication, it wasn’t an immediate one. “Lieutenant Brand,” Bishop called to his third in command who immediately showed up. “Have the nancams deployed for maximum range. I want as much warning as possible should the Cren start making their way towards us.”
The nancams, officially called nanoscale cameras, were small cameras an inch in diameter. These minuscule cameras were self-powered and able to send back real-time footage from up to a mile away. The footage could be relayed to the HUDs inside the officers’ helmets or the intel station that would be set up. Such a system would make it so that the Cren wouldn’t be able to take them by surprise.
“I’ll also be heading into town,” he continued. “We need to coordinate with the Mayor and I will issue orders for deployment once I know the full layout of this place. In the meantime, have everyone rest and recuperate but stay sharp.”
“Yes sir,” she replied.
Bishop started down the single, dark green solar-powered road heading from the gate, northwards, to the middle of the town and went beyond that, to the tallest building. All along the 10 foot-wide road was an assortment of houses and businesses with citizens moving quickly along or in small groups talking to one another.
Removing his helmet, he continued to walk at a brisk pace until he arrived at the middle of the town. As he emerged from the line of buildings, the road then split off in two directions forming a large circle. All along the circle were additional buildings and in the center a large fountain with the sculptures of the Cren solar system and the fountain surrounded by a smattering of small trees with benches scattered around. Making his way towards the largest building, located on the north end, which appeared to be the administration building, Bishop followed a small pathway that led through the park.
As he got closer to the building, which seemed to be a smorgasbord of Japanese and Greco-Roman architecture, Bishop Immediately spotted Mac talking to a couple of citizens. Noticing him, Mac hurried over and Bishop stated, “Report.”
“Some bad news and some good news. Unfortunately, the Mayor died a couple days ago,” replied Macintyre. “Luckily the Deputy Mayor is more than capable and began organizing folks as soon as I passed through the gates. Sam Stafford, the Deputy Mayor, is quickly getting things prepared.”
“Excellent,” Bishop said as he gave an inward sigh of relief. The fact that all of the citizens were already coming back to town was good news and he could put them to work right away. “Take me to the Deputy Mayor, Mac. Let’s get these citizens prepared and have them help out with the barricade.”
With a small smile Captain Macintyre answered, “Certainly sir.”
As they got closer, Bishop took notice of the citizens. There was a middle-aged, fat, and balding man who was talking to a young woman who appeared to be in her twenties. As he approached, Bishop extended his hand to the older gentlemen, while trying to suppress a shudder. Thankfully, his self-control was disciplined enough that he only gave an uncomfortable shift, and his shoulders stiffened a bit, which usually went unnoticed unless it was someone like Mac who had known him for so long. But Mac wasn’t the only one who noticed the signature shift as he saw the young woman give him a penetrating gaze that had noticed the slight peculiarities in his movement.
The older gentleman shook the offered hand and Bishop introduced himself, “Good morning Deputy Mayor. I am Colonel David Bishop and I was…” the rest of his sentence died off as he noticed the man’s puzzled expression. Looking off to the side, he noticed that Mac was trying not to laugh.
Confused, Bishop said, “Perhaps I’ve made a mistake?”
At this, the young woman stepped up with a smile and took Bishop’s hand, which had still been held out. Her brown eyes shined with mirth, tinged with sadness, as she said, “Pleasure to meet you Colonel. I am Deputy Mayor Sam Stafford. Now the acting-Mayor. The gentleman you thought was the Mayor is Bill Jergens, the man in charge of our mining operations.” With a nod, she dismissed Jergens who immediately got into a vehicle and took off down the road.
“I’m sorry for the confusion,” Bishop immediately responded. He was embarrassed not only at his mistake, but that he was suddenly taking notice of how soft Mayor Stafford’s hand was. “I didn’t expect the Deputy Mayor to be so young or be a woman with the first name of Sam.”
Sweetly, and condescendingly with a little anger tinged in her voice, Sam replied, “Sam can be a girl’s name just as well as a boy’s.”
“That’s not what I meant…,” Bishop answered as their hands unclasped. He was suddenly on the defensive believing that he had just offended the Mayor. On Earth, such an incident meant a lot of trouble via various avenues and no amount of apologizing would be satisfactory. “I meant no offense.”
Bishop turned away from the Mayor, finding it a little difficult to avoid looking at her with too much scrutiny, and quickly glanced over to Mac with an accusing look at what appeared to be a deteriorating situation. He had just insulted the Mayor twice now in the span of a minute. But instead of seeing the Captain’s trademark mischievous smile, the look on Mac’s face was one of scrutiny with his eyes a little widened.
Before Bishop could wonder why Mac had such an expression, Sam laughed and said, “It’s quite alright Colonel. I was just joking with you. It is hard to believe that at 25 I would be the acting Mayor of this town.”
“Thank you for letting me know that you were joking Madame Mayor,” Bishop stated. “On Earth, such a thing would have caused me nothing but grief for quite a while since that kind of humor is not appropriate in any circumstance.”
“Oh,” Mayor Stafford replied. “I wasn’t aware that you were Human.”
“The entire Fifth Battalion, with the exception of Captain Macintyre and some of the other officers, are all Human.”
“I see,” the Mayor replied. “Well, welcome to the GFP and I hope that you shake off that particular issue. Life would be rather stressful having to watch what you say all the time. Thankfully, we Terrans do not have to worry about such a trivial thing. However, we need to get down to business. Captain Macintyre…”
“Please call me Mac,” Mac quickly interrupted the Mayor.
“Mac,” she continued, nodding her head towards the Captain, “informed us that the Cren launched an attack and that it is only a matter of time before they begin a planetary assault. I’ve immediately shut down the mines and have ordered everyone to fall back to the town.”
Bishop’s opinion of the young Mayor had increased and he was glad to hear that such steps had already been taken, “Glad to hear it, Madame Mayor.”
“Call me Sam,” Sam interjected with an exaggerated wince as her glance included both Bishop and Mac. “I’m still not used to being called the Mayor and I’m not one for being so formal.”
“That makes two of us,” Mac added. “Though I fear that is a losing battle with the Colonel. Stiff as a board he is, with formal being his middle name.”
“Captain Macintyre,” Bishop interrupted, before the conversation got out of hand. “Madame Mayor,” he continued, though he noticed Mac’s exaggerated eyeroll, “Do you have the means of arming your citizens? I assume that, since this is the Cren System, citizens automatically have the right to own firearms?”
Shortly after being assigned to the Cren system, Bishop had read everything he could about it. In particular, due to the constant threat posed by the Cren, inhabitants didn’t need to go through any major hoops to own firearms. It was a matter of simply registering themselves and whatever weapons they owned with the government, no registration fee required for the license or for each weapon being claimed. Normally, in order to be approved to own a gun, mandatory psych evaluations would have to be conducted and a psychiatrist would have to recommend that the person was mentally sound. After that, fees would have to be paid and a yearly psych evaluation would have to be taken. Though the yearly evaluations consisted of a Q&A session with the gun owner hooked up to a lie detector to make sure they gave honest answers.
“Most of our citizens do own firearms, though we are better equipped than many of the large cities on the planet,” Sam replied.
“Oh,” Bishop queried, his interest piqued. “You’ll have to tell me more, but right now I need to issue orders to the Battalion first. If you’ll excuse us for a few minutes?”
Sam nodded her head as Bishop and Mac stepped away for a few minutes. Rather than putting his helmet back on, Bishop lightly tapped on an area slightly below his right ear where an auditory receptor was located, the same kind that was in the troops.
“Redundancy, thy name is the GFP,” Bishop thought to himself. “Lieutenant Brand.”
“Yes Colonel,” was the female marine’s instant reply.
“I want you to send a platoon of 50 marines each to the North, West, and East sides of the town with the bulk of the Battalion to remain on the South end to hold the gate. Then send the Comms and Intel units to the administration building on the north end of town to set up there. We’ll be coordinating further with the Mayor.”
“Copy that,” came Brand’s reply and the comm went dead.
“Mac,” Bishop said as he looked at the Captain.
“Yes, Colonel darling,” Mac asked sweetly with an impish grin.
“You just couldn’t tell me that Stafford was the Mayor?”
Mac raised an eyebrow as he replied, “Now what would be the fun in that? Me telling ya that the wee lass was the Mayor?”
“Would have saved me some embarrassment,” was the mumbled reply as they started walking back to where Sam was waiting for them.
“Colonel Darling, while you have certainly come a long ways since your days as a recruit, ya still have yet to learn to not be so stiff and emotionally neutral with your interactions with people. Speaking of emotions,” Mac’s tone suddenly became serious. “Are ya alright? When ya went to shake hands with that Jergens fellow, ya looked ready to bolt. Of course, it looked that way to me since I’ve known ya for so long.”
Bishop shrugged, “It is certainly an improvement to how I would have reacted thirteen years ago.”
“Aye, it is.”
“But the look you gave me Mac, that didn’t seem to be a result of my reaction to Jergens.”
“Indeed sir,” the impish grin had returned to Mac’s face.
“Well? What was that about?”
Before Mac could answer, they had reached Sam and the Captain simply replied, “A step in the right direction.”
Author’s Note: Always happy to receive constructive criticism!
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