Chapter 13: War
"Good morning, Commander Bill Grey. The time is 6:00 AM Corneria Standard. Orbit above Papetoon has been maintained at 7,000 kilometers, 430 kilometers per second. Satellites report three sandstorms forming in the northern hemisphere, and two in the southern, with maximum wind speeds of-"
Bill Grey finally dragged himself out of bed and turned off his alarm. He preferred to read the morning updates on a screen, rather than hear them reported by his clock. Though it did help him wake up, he had to admit.
Bill allowed himself twenty minutes in the hot water of the communal showers that morning, twice as long as he would normally take. The thrill of the Lylat War ending had finally given way to the listlessness and boredom of ordinary life. He hated the idea that he could call himself bored now, that he had ever enjoyed the war in any capacity, but it was true. Every day, every hour, had offered a new challenge and a new opportunity, as horrible as it had been. He hoped never to see a war again in his life, but...
But what do I even have to look forward to anymore? The question finally crystallized in his head. He knew the answer, of course. Drills, recruitment, more drills, research and development, more drills, training, negotiating with the Council and keeping his squadrons in line. All of the normal peacetime activities. But none if it excited him anymore. Still, he would never abandon his squadrons. He had sworn that oath a long time ago, and he was not keen on abandoning it.
Bill quickly made himself a cup of tea and padded to the bridge of his ship, the cruiser Sahaquiel of the Bulldog Squadron. He had put the other cruiser, the Arael of the Husky Squadron, in the hands of a lieutenant he had come to trust during the War.
"Good morning, everyone!" he declared to everyone else on the bridge.
"Good morning," came a chorus of voices, but it was much more quiet than usual.
"Uh, is everything okay, guys?" he asked, his voice falling in level with the others.
"Ugh, well..." another lieutenant named Hardy began as he handed Bill a tablet.
Bill pulled it over. It contained only a short note, and the electronic seal of the Council.
[[Commander Bill Grey,
It has come to our attention that protests have erupted on Papetoon over the passage of new laws concerning the expansion of the mining industry. The Council finds that these protests do not follow the traditional Cornerian laws of political expression, and authorizes you to enforce these laws. You may use force if deemed necessary.]]
Bill scratched his head for a moment. "So they...want us to just mow down the protesters!?"
"We didn't even want to ask," Hardy replied.
"Good choice," Bill sighed. "Well, I think we all know that this order is not acceptable."
"Why not?" A lizard ensign piped up. "We shut down those protests on Eladard when..."
"No!" Bill snapped, handing the tablet forcefully back to Hardy. "That was during a war. It was for their own good. This is different."
"Commander, General Pepper also authorized-" the ensign continued.
"Gener Pepper is dead," Bill snapped again, much louder this time. "Even he understood the value of political expression. We had to ask special permission just to use our batons. This sounds like they'd let us do anything."
"We could just come in, make a show, and say it didn't work," Hardy suggested.
"Hm, I feel like they'd just call in a different squadron. And they might actually do it," Bill mused.
"We need to do something, though," the ensign jumped in a third time. The chatter of the other soldiers on the bridge dropped to silence. Every eye was on Bill now.
"What's your name, ensign?" Bill asked.
"Delma, sir," she replied.
"Well then, Delma, I appreciate your moxy, but now is not the time. You have my respect, but the Council does not. I would rather die for you than them, and I hope you feel the same way."
"Surely that's rather melodramatic?" Delma suggested.
"Maybe, but that's how we soldiers have to think," Bill said with an air of finality.
"Yes, sir," Delma said after a moment of reflection. "I understand."
"Good," Bill replied. "Hardy, tell the Council that we refuse the order, and request further arbitration."
"Uh, sir, actually..." Hard stammered, looking at the tablet.
"What is it?"
"It looks like...our refusal to act has already been interpreted as insubordination. Six suqadrons are en route from Corneria right now."
"Six!?" Bill exclaimed.
"Yes," Hardy continued, not taking his eyes off the tablet. "There are also three coming from Eladard, and two from Aquas, but their movements are strange. I'm not sure all of them are acting under the Council's orders."
Bill's eyes widened into perfect circles. He took a minute to gaze at the view of Papetoon on the screen, with its wide swathes of umber and thin filaments of green. "Okay, Hardy, our goal now is to protect the protesters, and Papetoon in general, as well as we can. I want you to call all of these squadrons and see if any of them are on our side. Don't give away too much info."
"Yes, sir. Anything else?"
"Just man the bridge for the moment. I need to call an old friend."
"Yes, sir. Understood."
"Excellent. And may the Stars have mercy on us."