Life in Merestan went on much the way it always had for most in the three days after that meeting despite the preparations at the port and the intrigues in western command. The warship docked in the military port was a hub of activity the entire time, never resting for even a moment. Weapons and supplies were loaded. Anxious guards watched every corner of the area, officers organized for the upcoming expedition and soldiers prepared for deployment.
On the scheduled morning Rick found himself waited with his new boss in the port offices. He'd barely had a moment's rest since leaving Royce's office, being sent from place to place for training, introductions, and outfitting. His hasty promotion had come as a surprise, but not as much of a surprise as the ease with which he was settling into the role. Anders was efficient, calm, and technically minded, so they at least had that to work with. She listened to his explanations without ever showing confusion and showed some appreciation for his work. More than Gail ever had, at any rate.
They were sitting there silently in the lounges. Anders and four of her other men had arrived while the soldiers were loaded into the transports. She'd been taking calls and receiving documents every few minutes, but the rest of them had nothing to do but wait.
He watched her curiously. She couldn't be much older than thirty, but as far as he could tell she had a lot of influence with the other officers. They'd had a meeting the night before, one which he hadn't been invited to, but he saw the respect she was given from the other officers. He'd caught a glimpse of Royce himself earlier that morning meeting her privately.
"Is there a problem, Lieutenant?" she asked, having caught him staring.
"No, not really, uh, sir. This is all kind of new to me, you know?" he replied, deciding not to lie.
"You'll adjust quickly enough. Similar work, but less shooting and more respect."
He nodded, averting his eyes. Her constantly disinterested tone reminded him of Regina, but it lacked his friend's warmth. Regina acted detached, but he knew there was more to her than the act.
"Is it our destination? You lost half your team there, I recall," she said, looking through a pile of papers while speaking.
It was a valid question, he knew. If he'd only been more careful Tom might not have died, and he hadn't forgotten that for a moment. "It was dangerous enough when we were there. Now we're taking a full force and expecting Borginia to do the same. I just see how this could go wrong, that's all."
"Judging from the schematics you brought back, that facility is going to be one of the easiest places to defend I've ever seen. We'll take it first, and they can kill themselves trying to take it back. It's a fairly routine assignment, all things considered. Excuse me." She rose to take a call, and Rick felt almost relieved.
After another hour of waiting she declared it time for them to leave. Leaving the comfortable offices for the warmth of a rare sunny Merestan day, he saw a group of officers in the distance watching the last of the soldiers loading onto the ships. He almost turned away before he saw a flash of red among the crowd.
Definitely her, he thought. Nobody else he'd ever known had hair like that. He waved, trying to attract her attention. Anders looked slightly irritated, he saw, but said nothing. Their path took them close to the other officers and he used the opportunity to slip over.
"Hey, Regina," he called, attracting the attention of more than just her.
She watched as he approached but didn't move. "How's the new job working out?"
"The job's not the problem, same old stuff really. You know nobody's better at what I do," he said, pausing for a moment. "Still, I never wanted to see Ibis Island again."
"They must really want Kirk's data," she said, looking over at the ships.
"It can't just be that. They've got Kirk, so why take such huge risks?"
She shrugged. "Ask your new boss, I bet she knows."
"Don't give me that. What do you really think?"
The officers accompanying Regina started heading for the port office, one handing her a note as he left. "I don't know what to think. We're not being told the full story, but we're just the grunts."
Rick felt himself getting annoyed. Regina's apathy, so at odds with her actions, had frustrated him for years. "Well I intend to find out. We're the good guys, right? That's what we both said when we signed up. Can you honestly say you still believe that?"
She stared at him but said nothing. Anders was speaking to a group of port officials, he noted, before looking back at Regina. "That's what I thought," he murmured, rubbing his weary eyes with one hand.
"So the military does some bad things. What can you do about that?"
"Maybe nothing. But I have to try. It makes me sick every time I ignore what's right because of orders. We went to Ibis Island thinking we were going to rescue an energy researcher. Then we find out we're there to kidnap the guy for making weapons, but only so he can make weapons for us instead. But you know what really got to me? I wasn't even surprised that they lied."
She laughed, but there was no humour in it. "You're an idealist, Rick. This is the last place you should be."
"Maybe you're right," he said, before pausing and looking to see if they were being watched. "But maybe this is exactly where I should be." He reached into his side pocket and withdrew a small disc, pressing it into her hand under the guise of shaking it.
Pocketing it without looking, she didn't even look surprised. "So what's this?"
"I'm sick of sitting back and taking it. I had access to the servers in the port office, so I bypassed their security and copied the entire database."
"Why am I not surprised?" She sounded exasperated, but he knew she'd help him. "I'll assume you're smart enough not to get caught. What do want me to do with it?"
"Find out what's really going on. I don't know how much is kept on those servers, but there should be something." He gestured back at the ship and waiting officers. "I'm not going to have the chance, so it's going to have to be you."
She looked ready to argue the point but stopped, suddenly looking quite serious. "Look after yourself, okay? Don't blame yourself if it goes wrong and try to come back in one piece. I'll see what I can find out here, but I don't know how much that'll be." She paused, looking back at the ship. "And watch out for Anders. Some of the things I've heard about her aren't exactly pleasant."
"Yeah, I know. But thanks, Regina. Without you I'd be completely alone," he said, flashing a half-hearted smile at her before turning back toward the ship.
Despite her cynicism, he knew she felt the same way he did. There was such a difference between what they were told they were doing and the results of those actions. So much of what they did only caused more harm, but he'd never understood why. Who benefited from causing so much misery?
Alvernia was a military state in all but name, he knew, but its citizens lived comfortable lives and it restrained itself from excessive imperialism. As a student he'd been quite politically active, drawn to activism by his strong sense of ethics. At the time he'd been protesting the military's influence in economics. There was an element of central planning in the Alvernian economy and more and more of those resources had been siphoned off for military uses as time passed.
Joining the military wasn't unusual, even for activists. So many functions were managed from the command centres that a great number of people had some connection to the army. It hadn't quite been what he'd hoped, but concentrating on the welfare of the people around him had helped him to forget that.
Reaching the officers, Anders turned away from the dock officials. They boarded the ships without any real ceremony, receiving a quick tour from some of the crew before being left to their own devices. His own quarters were small but quite comfortably outfitted. A small window looked out on the open ocean, but he'd never been fond of the sea.
The next few days passed without much incident, to the point where he found himself bored. Ibis Island was not so far as that, but they'd stopped the day before on official orders. The soldiers were growing irritable and so was everyone else. Being stuck on a cramped ship for no real reason was extremely frustrating, and he found himself waiting on the open deck just to avoid claustrophobia.
That was where he found himself on the afternoon of the fourth day. By then he'd found a comfortable spot away from prying eyes to sit and think. The ocean was calm, but dark clouds could be seen in the far west. The weather changed very quickly, he'd learned, and so even the outdoors wasn't truly comfortable. He wasn't the only one trying to escape the cramped halls, but he'd spoken to very few of the other men since arriving. The other officers were polite but distant. At first he'd assumed that was because of his unusual background, but none of them seemed particularly friendly even among each other.
He watched a smaller transport ship to the warship's side as three men patrolled the top deck, but a young voice interrupted his thoughts. "Sir? You're wanted at a meeting in the officers' quarters."
He looked back, feeling a slight breeze pick up in the west. "Really? What do they want this time?"
The messenger, a man who looked as though he'd only been recruited within the last year, looked worried, as if he wasn't used to be asked follow-up questions. "I… well, I'm not sure, sir, but some of the sailors said we might be moving out soon."
Well, shit, he thought. Unpleasant as the ocean was, he almost preferred it to the thought of Ibis Island. "All right, thanks," he said, nodding and heading back down into the ship.
He reached the meeting room within five minutes, seeing most of the other officers already present. Anders was sitting behind a small desk, the entire thing covered in papers. She looked bored, at least as far as he could tell, but most of the others seemed anxious. One woman to his left was sweating profusely.
"Sit down," Anders said as he entered, waving at a seat near the door. He noticed within the first three days alone her distaste for ceremony.
She rose, looking blankly at them all. "We've received new orders from command. The Borginian recovery force is still a day away, so we'll be moving on the island tonight."
"Why'd we even have to wait in the first place? One day's not enough to set up a proper defence," asked a middle aged man near the front, who Rick had gathered was in charge of securing the facility.
"We became aware after embarking that the facility may still have been at risk of some sort of violent explosion. Between waiting a few days and risking so many soldiers, the choice was obvious."
Does that mean Kirk's working with them now? Rick knew he was a captive, but they'd barely spoken of him once. Nobody else would've known enough about the Third Energy to confirm the risk.
The older officer nodded, satisfied with the answer. Anders waited for a moment and then continued. "There are some other changes. Capturing this island is the most essential goal we have, at least for now. It will need to be done with as much efficiency as we can manage."
"What do you mean by efficiency?" Rick said, interrupting her monologue.
"I mean there's no room for error. Every last man they send to retake the island will be killed in action, and the facility itself must be kept undamaged as much as possible." She watched him, an odd look on her face. "You would understand better than anyone; if the facility is destroyed this entire exercise is completely worthless."
She turned away, looking back at the senior officers in front. "We've also been warned that internal threats are becoming an issue. Insurgents in the ranks and revolutionaries at home have caused unacceptable amounts of damage in the last three months alone."
The woman to his left nodded. "An armoury bombed, another two looted, and a major murdered in his own quarters, all right under the major general's nose."
"Hardly a surprise, is it?" Anders asked. "Don't expect such issues here. Still, internal security is monitoring any potential threats carefully."
Rick recalled hearing idle talk among the men regarding unrest in the border cities, but yet again he realised he was uninformed. Where did these revolutionaries come from, and what did they want? He didn't ask.
"There's another island near here that could prove problematic, sir," one of the younger officers said. "It's a military supply base for Borginia. Small, but it could support a siege against our position almost indefinitely."
"Yes, you're right. But I wouldn't worry about that; a SORT unit was sent to sabotage it some time ago," she replied, barely sparing a glance at the man.
"You don't find that much aggression excessive, sir? Rick saw at once the officer had overstepped. The room fell silent, and Anders finally gave her full attention to the briefing.
"Not in the least, Morton. Neither would you, if only you were aware of the circumstances that made such action necessary," she said. Rick let out the breath he'd been holding, expecting any insolence to be taken far more seriously. His new superior reminded him of Gail, right down to the hair, but Gail was stern – this woman seemed completely disinterested in those around her.
The room was silent for a moment. He looked to his right at the outspoken young officer. The man was clearly irritated, but refrained from any further comments. One of the older officers rose and began speaking of logistics in a droning monotone, and Rick was one of the few to give the man his full attention. If he must be an officer, he was determined to be a good one.
The briefing lasted another hour, most of which was taken up by matters of supply and strategy. Anders and three of her men left with barely a word halfway through the logistics officer's speech, and Rick left no more informed than when he'd entered.
He wandered aimlessly but inevitably found himself in his usual spot on the open deck. The sky was darker and a strong breeze had blown in during their meeting, but the air was warm. He gripped the railing and exhaled, trying to calm himself for the return to Ibis Island.
"Looks like we're going to have to go in under a storm, huh?" a voice asked from behind.
Surprised but not alarmed, Rick looked over his shoulder and saw the insolent young officer from the briefing. The man before him was tall, very muscular, and had short blonde hair which badly needed styling. He shook his head, convinced for the slightest moment the man was a younger Gail. Looking again, he saw the difference in height and the softer, almost friendlier facial features that distinguished the two.
"Looks that way," he replied, turning back to the sea as the officer approached the railing. "Doesn't make much difference to me."
He saw the man's gaze move from the rough waters to his face. "I suppose not." The officer's eyes narrowed, but he seemed reluctant to speak his mind.
"You've done this before, right?" Rick asked, thinking of the masses of soldiers below.
"I'm a TRAT officer. This is all we do," the man replied. "But surely you've seen action. Not often that they bring in someone new like this unless they've got something to offer. Not to this unit, anyway."
Rick found that strange and looked at the man to see if he was joking at his expense. "I've seen more action than most, but not in the army. You weren't told why I'm here?"
"We were told that you were a technical expert with an 'espionage background' and that was it," he said, a disdainful smirk on his face. "I'd have pushed further but you saw how Anders is, and she's the only one who knows." He shrugged. "Other than you, of course."
It all seemed rather ridiculous to Rick, but he found the unwarranted secrecy unsettling. "Look, I've been here for barely a week. Before that I was a field operative. They've got me here for a very specific reason, but don't think I'm going to get on the wrong side of a lieutenant colonel just to satisfy your curiosity."
The man laughed, brushing his windswept hair back into place. "No? Probably the smart thing to do, but we'll see about that." He held out his hand and Rick grasped it. "I'm First Lieutenant Morton, but you might as well as well forget the formality and call me Dylan. No need for formality among friends, right?" he said, leaning back on the railing. A few drops of rain started to fall.
Despite his suspicions, Rick found he appreciated the company. Morton was soft spoken but quite charismatic despite that. He wasn't a solitary man by nature and found it difficult to be without the support of friends for long.
"I'm Rick, same rank. You'll have to tell me more about being in the service."
"No surname? Easy way to spot a spook. Let's head back to the officer's rooms and find a quiet corner. There's a lot to share and not much time," Dylan said, gesturing back at the stairwell.
It was something he'd tried not to dwell on, but Rick's dissatisfaction with the military and the things it did was never far from his mind. Could Morton share those feelings? Well, he considered, even if he didn't, it was going to be a lonely mission without at least one friend, and the other officer was clearly willing to trade information. Whatever they expected to happen on Ibis Island, he wasn't going to go back there unprepared.
They spent the rest of the afternoon chatting and joking. Light conversation, quite cheerful, but each man found what he was looking for, and when the sun set the order to seize Ibis Island was finally given.