"Sam, got a minute?" Sam looked up from her bike to see Colonel Hoffman stood in the doorway of Boathouse 7, the COGs makeshift warehouse.
"Uh, sure, Colonel," she answered, setting her wrench down. She stood and dusted off her hands and pants. What could Hoffman want with her? Was she in trouble? She couldn't remember the last time she had been charged for anything; she did her duties, she stayed out of arguments that weren't hers, and she had started getting along better with the Gorasni forces. She even accepted her sentence in Pelruan without complaining . . . much. Hoffman usually only bothered his golden boys—Delta Squad—and Bernie. Sam couldn't think of a reason he would want to see her.
Dizzy looked down at her from Betty's hatch. They had been working in companionable silence after laughing about Baird's new "private quarters" in the restroom. Sam waved to him with a small smile, trying to show him she wasn't really in trouble, and joined Hoffman outside.
She saluted, though her uncertainty made her stiff. She was trying to think up anything she did in the past few hours that would bring Hoffman all the way out here.
"At ease, Private Bryne," Hoffman said, and Sam relaxed by a hair. Hoffman wasn't one to beat around the bush, yet she could tell by his expression he was struggling to find the right words. He removed his hat and ran a hand over his shaved head. Hadn't Anya mentioned that was his sign he was nervous? "I'm glad I found you here. I'm not really sure how to say this, but I've been doing a lot of thinking lately, and I realized I never had the chance to ask about your father."
"My father, sir?" she asked, bewildered. She had expected a lot of things, but nothing about her deadbeat dad. "Is that what this is all about? I'm not in trouble?"
"Hell no, you're doing an excellent job. I only wondered if Sheraya ever told you about your old man."
"You knew my mum too?"
Hoffman nodded and replaced his hat, adjusting the brim. "A great woman—incredibly smart and with a sharp tongue; she could put drill sergeants to shame. How's she doing?"
Sam leaned against the boathouse wall and stared at her boots. "She . . . died. A year after I joined the COG; it was after she got sick that she started talking about dad a lot."
Hoffman's usually gruff voice turned almost soft. "I'm sorry."
She shook her head and tried to lighten the mood. She hated talking about her mum; she still missed her every day. "Don't be, sir. She's probably in another place chewing Dad's ear off."
"Yeah, she would do that," Hoffman replied with a chuckle. He leaned against the wall beside her. "So what do you know about Samuel?"
Sam shrugged. "That he was awarded the Sovereigns Medal for some kind of half-assed act of bravery. That he abandoned me and mum to stay with his mates but he burned in the Siege of Anvil Gate. I didn't even know his name was Samuel—just Sam. Always Sam. Mum said I was named after him and that I should be proud. But why should I be proud of a rat bastard who would rather die than be with his family?"
"Sheraya didn't give you the whole story, then. There's more to your father than just being a bastard; he was a hero."
"Yeah? By being the first of his platoon to knock up a local?" she spat.
"Your parents loved each other very much, Sam," Hoffman said quietly.
"I know Mum loved him," she growled. "Whenever she talked about him, she had this sickeningly sweet smile. I was always angry that she was still in love with him."
Hoffman pushed off the wall and motioned Sam to follow. "Let's take a walk. I've got a lot to tell you."
Sam wasn't sure she wanted to listen. All her life, she hated her dad. He had never been there for her; she wasn't even sure he wanted to be. He had left her and her mum to survive on their own. Whenever Sam asked about her dad, Mum's answers were short and sweet. Sam learned to fill in the blanks as time went on.
Maybe this was the chance she needed. Hoffman wouldn't lie to her; he wouldn't even consider stretching the truth. Maybe she could finally come to peace with her father's choice or decide if she truly hated him.
With a sigh, Sam followed Hoffman along the dirt road.
"Your father was a great man," Hoffman started. "He was friendly to everyone, loyal to a fault, but he had a keen mind. He seemed like a jackass, but he could strategize with the greatest minds and outsmart any other soldier. I'm proud to have served beside him as part of the 26th Royal Tyran Infantry."
Sam had only heard stories about the 26th RTI—"The Unvanquished," they called it. They never retreated from a battle, and they never lost. They did whatever necessary to get the job done. A few of the Gears she knew now had been part of it—and, apparently, her father.
"He was a sergeant, wasn't he?" she asked.
"Yes, a damn fine soldier. He deserved that medal, but he should have accepted it alive."
"Mum said he died in a fire during the siege. That's not true, is it, sir? What really happened to him?"
Hoffman hated to talk about Anvil Gate. Sam had watched as men praised him for what he did but anytime he was asked for the real details, he always turned them away. He held onto those ghosts as if his life depended on it. Sam knew something was bothering him if he wanted to have this talk. She stayed quiet, watching him collect his thoughts.
"Sheraya told you about the siege," Hoffman said, stopping on the dirt path. He closed his eyes for a brief moment. "About how I did things to ensure survival of civilians and my Gears as we were cut off from the rest of Kashkur—things I'm still not proud to admit. Surrending to UIR forces was one of them. It ensured the civilians were evacuated, including your mother. I urged your father to go with her; they had married not long before this. But Samuel stayed. He knew the civilians, and your mother, were safe; he wouldn't abandon his brothers."
"He really had the choice to leave?" Sam asked, anger flaring in her gut. She thought Mum had been lying. The bastard really did choose to die than know his daughter.
"I almost begged him. I wanted him to raise his kid—to raise you. But he felt he had a duty to our men; he was in charge of the Connaught Platoon, and he wasn't going to let them stay in Anvil Gate and die. We were both fighting to bring everyone home."
Her anger dissolved in shock. She knew that feeling too well; the instinct that was in every Gear. Get the civvies to safety and cover your fellow Gears. No one was left behind and no one was abandoned. Suddenly her father's motives were becoming clear.
"So what happened?" Sam asked. "If he was such a great guy, how did he die?"
Hoffman picked up his pace as they started to turn back toward the boathouse. "We had the Indies inside our walls. I'll never forget the brave man who they sent to accept our surrender; I'll never forget his face or his last words. Captain Benoslau. Samuel and I gave him a tour of the city, and seeing the horror and disgust on Benoslau's face was when I started having second thoughts. He was willing to be reasonable. He even offered to treat our wounded men, to skip POW camps completely. While Benoslau and I discussed the formal surrender, Sam went to the wall to man the Stomper before the ambush. That's when an already FUBAR situation went to hell in a neatly packed hand basket."
He was quiet, as if expecting Sam to ask questions, but she stayed silent too. No one except the men who had been there knew the real details of the Siege of Anvil Gate. She was engrossed. Hoffman started to say something, but closed his mouth and shook his head. He tried again.
"When I had gone to check on Sam, I thought he was still alive. Nothing looked wrong until I got closer, then I saw the blood. But he was still upright, still vigilant about his post even in death. I felt . . . I can't even describe it. He had made his choice, but I was guilty of robbing another kid of her father. Out of the many horrible things I did in Anvil Gate . . . that hit me the hardest. But all of his planning had been right. We survived that day, all thanks to him."
Sam stopped walking and crossed her arms over her chest. She was in full armor during Vectes' hot summer, yet she felt vulnerable and cold. She had lived her life thinking Samuel had stayed behind to avoid raising his kid and play cards with his mates. Instead, he stayed to defend his brothers from the people who now shared half the island. Was it just because he was part of The Unvanquished? Did he think he would be seen as a coward, a disgrace? No, Sam knew exactly what he felt when he agreed to stay. It was a Gear thing, and it made sense to her that she didn't understand until she became a Gear.
"He sounds like . . . a great man," she said softly, trying to force back the emotion in her voice. "I'm actually sorry I never had the chance to meet him."
"He's sorry too. I know he is," Hoffman replied. "He was serious about your mom. When they were off duty, they were inseparable. He married her almost immediately."
"And then he went and got himself killed. Yeah, that sounds like something us stubborn Brynes' would do." She wiped her eyes, hoping she wasn't crying, and began walking again. They were almost back to the boathouse; she knew Dizzy was waiting with questions. "God, I can't believe I went through life hating him—and he was amazing. He helped defend Anvil Gate, and that place is huge. I can't believe he knew how to shoot a Stomper. It's . . . crazy."
"I'm sorry no one told you sooner."
"Why? With all respect, sir, I probably wouldn't have listened. Coming from you, though, I know it's true. My dad was great, and he deserved the Sovereigns Medal. Mum gave it to me after I joined the army; I never thought about it or really looked at it before, but I've never been happier to have it."
Hoffman smiled and stopped outside Boathouse 7. "Then I'm glad we had this talk. I think we both needed it."
"Yeah, yeah definitely," she agreed.
He touched her shoulder briefly. "Are you okay?"
She nodded, fighting back more tears. "Yeah. It'll just take a while to get over the shock. I'm okay. Thank you, sir. Really."
He took a step back, suddenly turning awkward. Sam had never known him to be a caring, one-on-one, heart-to-heart type of man; she wasn't surprised to see it run out. However, it warmed her to know that no matter how many battles someone may face, they could still have a heart. There were times when she wasn't really sure she had one left. Had her dad ever felt like that?
"Take care of yourself, Sam," Hoffman said. "If you have any questions, just come find me."
"Thank you, sir. I really appreciate this."
Hoffman nodded, turned on his heels, and went back to his daily duties. Sam stood outside the boathouse gulping down air. She wouldn't cry. She couldn't. Yet she felt the guilt and hatred bubbling up inside her. All these years. All these years and I never knew. No, don't cry. Dizzy was inside working, and she didn't want to bother him by turning into an emotional woman.
Sam wasn't sure how long she stood outside, but she fully composed herself without a tear. She could do that later in the privacy of her room. She had to focus on work; she had repairs to finish to her rat bike. She entered the boathouse and Dizzy poked his head down from Betty's top, but he didn't say anything. She must have looked worse than she thought.
She sat down by the bike and picked up her wrench.
Did Dad know how to fix the artillery around Anvil Gate? Maybe the machines? Did she get her mechanic skills from him? She shook her head and got back to work.
What would he say when I joined the army? Would he argue that a girl couldn't fight? No, Mum would bite his head off. What would our life be like if we were all together?
"You okay, sweetheart?" Dizzy called from atop his RIG.
Sam realized she hadn't been working on anything, only staring at the wrench in her hands. It was covered in tears. She quickly wiped her eyes and dropped the wrench back in the toolbox. Looking up, she saw Dizzy leaning out over Betty with concern. They had struck up a friendship, and after Sam had gotten along so well with Dizzy's daughters, Maralin and Teresa, Sam was sure he started viewing her as his third daughter.
"I hate myself," she sighed. "Hoffman told me about my dad. How great he was and what he did to defend Anvil Gate. I can't help but think he's somewhere in the clouds hating me as much as I hated him all these years."
"Nah," Dizzy drawled. "He knew it was a misunderstanding. Yer his little girl; of course he loves ya. As a father of two myself, I know what I'm talking about."
"Do you think . . . do you think he's proud of me, Dizzy?"
"Sweetheart, after some'a the crazy things you do, I know he's proud of you. Don't beat yerself up. You know the truth now; you can start over."
Starting over sounded right to her. She would start by digging out her father's medal and her mother's locket from her small bag of personal items. Sam finally knew what happened in her parent's lives; she was proud of them. Now it was her turn to make them proud.