"I trained a generation of people to throw themselves into the grinder. The Federation chewed them up and spit them out. Now when they say, 'push on to glory,' I ask, 'what glory?'"

Captain [Redacted]

Starship Troopers: Miner Disruption

Chapter 20: The Sinner and the Stars

The art style was called New Realism. It had come into vogue in the 2240s and never faded away. Pioneered by great artists such as Adolf Macron and Angela Khrushchev, its intended goal was to represent the real world as much as possible, but without letting the viewer forget that it was art. To be big, strong, and proud. To represent the Federation. And while there was little need for artists these days, and what artists there were usually ended up in the Department of Information, many still had eyes for beauty.

The subject matter in the painting itself was a big brown rock in a long brown desert, the rock itself supposedly being called Uluru. And while the desert wasn't nearly as barren as the wastes of Wallach II, with a plethora of scrubs surrounding it, it still reminded Liang of the planet below the Verhoeven. If she remembered correctly, the rock was located in the centre of what was once called Australia. Or sometimes was, as people debated whether it was an island or a continent.

Countries didn't exist anymore. Continents did.

Sitting in the ready room of Captain Bunnerong, who hailed from that country/continent/island, Liang knew the old country-continent debate was unimportant. But still, as she let her eyes drift away from the captain and his datapad, and to one of the few pieces of personal flair that decked his office, Liang found it a welcome distraction. Even if was a hemisphere away from where she'd grown up, it was still a piece of Terra.

A piece of home.

Bunnerong grunted as he read Liang's report, and while she tried to fight her trepidation, it was a losing battle. Technically, Bunnerong didn't outrank her, but he was still the captain of this ship, and the man who'd transported her Lions from one battleground to the next. Whatever recommendations he made to Terran Command would go a long way in their determination as to whether she'd acted with due conduct in regards to the uprising at Site 51.

It's not a rebellion, it's a strike.

She winced, as Benito's words echoed in her ears.

And even if it was, who would we be rebelling against?

Rebellion. Uprising. The words rolled over Liang's tongue like an APC over dunes. It was funny how the English language worked, she reflected. How there were so many words for the same thing that could convey so many different meanings. All those idiosyncrasies. Odd, really, that of all the languages that had once existed on Earth, it was English that the Federation had deemed it the lignua franca of humanity after the Collapse.

Or, she thought, as Bunnerong put the pad aside, maybe that was why they'd chosen it.

"Anything you want to say?" the captain asked.

Liang looked at him – big body, dark skin, dark eyes, wavy dark hair – and murmured, "it's all in the report."

"Is it?"

"Yes. Everything." She leant back in her chair, steadying the beating of her heart, while failing to stop the sweat gathering in her palms. "I could say more words, I suppose, but…"

"But?"

"But the dead won't hear them."

Bunnerong leant back in his own chair. "Which dead are bothering you?" he asked. "Yours? Or theirs?"

Liang remained silent. She understood the distinction – she'd made that distinction when she'd given the order to fire – but to hear it, now…

She couldn't say it sat right with her.

"Eighty-three miners and security officers confirmed dead," Bunnerong murmured. "Up against the deaths of six troopers, and twenty-two injured."

Liang's lips quivered. Fewer casualties than against the Arachnids, but just as many wounded. It had come from bullets whizzing around everywhere, Benito's miscreants being better armed than she'd expected. But even so…

"Interesting how they took ten troopers hostage," Bunnerong continued. "Yet none of them were shot."

"I think they were too caught up in trying to survive," Liang ventured. "Or maybe they were too damn merciful."

Bunnerong snorted. "Where does mercy get anyone?"

Nothing, Liang told herself. Nothing at all.

A silence lingered in the room, one that the constant hum of the ship's engines and air circulation couldn't break. Bunnerong was old enough to be Liang's father, but she couldn't expect even the minimal level of affection Mao Liang had given her. It was nothing personal, just the usual inter-service rivalry between Fleet and Infantry. And besides, she'd dealt death on a much larger scale than this before. Even against her fellow humans…on Juno Terengai…

Why then, she wondered, could her hands not stop shaking?

"For what it's worth, I wouldn't have done anything differently," Bunnerong said. "The natives attacked, you dealt with them."

'Dealt with them.' It sounded so simple, to hear it like that.

"I mean, if I didn't have your infantry, I might have just given them a missile," he continued. "Though, most importantly, the Mammoth is intact."

Most importantly, Liang reflected. Of course it is.

"I'll have this sent to Terran Command," Bunnerong said, as he continued to type on he pad. "But given what's happened, and what's about to happen, it's academic."

"Sir?"

Bunnerong grunted, and got to his feet. Liang meekly stood aside as he walked over to the ready room's window, beyond which was Wallach II. Not the first time that Liang had seen it from this high up, but now, it looked…angry, she supposed. A harsh world bathed under the light of a main sequence star. Reflecting its own glare at the invaders in its skies.

"I can't deny that it would have been better to have prevented any such insurgency from occurring in the first place," Bunnerong said, as he looked out the window. "But what's done is done. You followed Federation tactics to the letter. You even took out the ringleader yourself." He put a finger to his temple. "The traitor's reward."

Liang, recalling Benito's last moments…the serum she'd given him…declined to correct the captain. That Benito Sanchez hadn't been the ringleader. That she'd given him mercy that some in the Federation might have disapproved of.

"But it's been ten hours since the incident," Bunnerong continued. "And while there's thankfully no video footage of the operation, we can't make eighty-something bodies disappear. And that's not even dealing with the miners' families and children."

"Children?" Liang whispered.

Bunnerong glanced at her. "You expected miners to be celibate? I thought you interacted with some of their little bastards."

"I…" She swallowed, thinking of a young girl at Douglas Hampstead Boarding School. "No sir. I suppose I couldn't expect that." Though I couldn't expect her…them…to forgive us either.

His glance extended from Liang, to her waist, and the metal attached to it. Maybe he was thinking about how celibacy was no longer a consideration for her.

"So the families," Liang whispered. "The loss of labour. The orphans we made. What are going to do?"

"We?" Bunnerong asked, as he returned his gaze to the window. "We won't be doing anything."

"Sir?"

Bunnerong sighed. "You might not have heard, but word's already reached the civilians down there. There's riots in Hampstead. Protests in Neos Aquas. None of them know exactly what happened, but most of the people want us gone."

"A rebellion?"

"A riot," Bunnerong corrected. "But, as we both know, riots can develop into something worse."

"Then what's going to happen?"

Bunnerong said nothing.

"You said that we weren't going to do anything."

"I did. The Verhoeven won't be doing anything to address the situation, nor Fox Company."

"Sir?"

"Your company's been mauled. Once against the Arachnids, once more against uppity miners. I'm not going to tell you how to run your company, but I'd imagine that it'll need fresh blood."

Fresh blood, Liang reflected. Fresh blood, so more blood can be spilt.

"So we won't be doing anything else here," Bunnerong continued. "Because in two days 'time, the Arthur Phillip and Coral Sea will arrive, carrying four divisions of Mobile Infantry between them. They'll land, martial law will be declared in response to an unprovoked attack on Federation personnel who were there to protec them, and Wallach Two will be officially incorporated into Terran Federation. Not a protectorate, not an equal trading partner, a full-fledged colony." Bunnerong smirked. "With suitable changes in government to match."

Liang remained silent, as a chill ran down her spine that wasn't due to her still-damp uniform. What had happened had happened because of choices made by Hieronymus Matthews, and by extension, Benito Sanchez. He'd paid the price, his miners had paid the price, and she too, had paid the price. A price that hadn't cost her her life, but a price all the same.

Don't flatter yourself.

She shook the thought away, but not the realization that came with it. The realization of how, in a sense, the Federation had paid no price at all. At minimal cost, it had gained full control of a world, and the casus belli through which to do so The irony was that despite their antagonism, the actions of Sanchez and Matthews had served the Federation more than even the willing collaboration of people like Hassan. Hassan, who now that she thought about it, could probably look forward to a fruitful career of administering the Federation's newest territory.

A win-win, then.

"Sir…" She bit her lip, choosing her words carefully. "I…"

"Spit it out, Liang. Don't say tomorrow what you can say today."

"Sir, the treaty signed in 2301…with the Heinlein…this is a clear violation of it."

Bunnerong snorted. "Bullets change things."

"Sir, they'll never forgive us for what happened."

"Which is their prerogative."

"And they'll never forget."

"Good," Bunnerong snapped. "Let them remember what happens to those who take up arms against the Federation."

Liang winced. Over eighty people had died today. If the people of Homecoming…now, and forever more, Wallach II…had even a fraction of the fire she'd seen earlier today, the troopers stationed here could have even more bloodshed on their hands. The Federation had no patience for traitors or separatists, after all. In the months, even years to come, Homecoming…Wallach II, she reminded herself…could have the events of Site 51 repeated ten times over. The outcome was clear, but it was an outcome that could be paved through plenty of blood.

Which meant nothing, she told herself. She'd spent a month with Suharto. He'd worked his magic, he'd reminded her of her duty, he'd demonstrated the natural violence of the human race, and how any regrets of killing one's own in service to the Federation was a questionable reaction at best. And after all, hadn't Benito and his band been just as willing? True, they hadn't killed the hostages…true, they hadn't fired the first shot…true, the peace terrorists on Juno Terengai had never attacked the Federation directly…but…

Stop. She clenched her hands, and took a breath. Steadied her breathing, just as Suharto had taught her. You're an officer of the Mobile Infantry. Act like it. You dealt with traitors, just as you did those peace terrorists.

She looked at Bunnerong. "No occupation for my company then."

"No occupation at all."

She nodded. Liang's Lions had been mauled. Perhaps it was for the best that other divisions be sent here, at least for awhile. Besides, the Ironside had its own complement, with plenty of armour to match, so surely they could hold the fort while the Lions were…

"You said that we weren't going to do anything," Liang said.

Bunnerong nodded, and headed back to his desk.

"Which I assume means that we won't be doing anything here," she said. "But that doesn't mean shore leave, does it?"

Bunnerong, taking his seat, remained silent.

"So if we're not staying here, and we're not going home…where are we going?"

Bunnerong looked up at her. "You're meant to be the brains of your bunch, Liang, you tell me."

She remained silent.

"Titanium extraction to build starships. The type of starships that will be needed in everything from transport, to space-to-ground warfare. What operation do you think we might need all those starships for?"

Liang thought about it for a moment. There were so many targets for the Federal Fleet. More worlds discovered with an Arachnid presence each year, especially now that the conflict with the Bugs had spilled out of the AQZ.

"Might we retake something of ours?" The captain asked.

And in an instant, she had the answer. "Roku San," she whispered.

"Roku San," Bunnerong parroted. "This world may be thousands of light years away, but make no mistake, what happens on Wallach Two will be vital to Operation Advancing Triumph."

"Advancing Triumph?" Liang asked. "I haven't heard of it."

"Of course you haven't. It doesn't officially exist yet. But the Verhoeven will be joining up with Task Force Capricorn as we ensure the surrounding systems are Bug free, before we link up with the larger Fleet and hit the planet."

"And you know this?" Liang whispered.

Bunnerong shrugged.

Of course you do. You're Fleet. Fleet does the flying, Fleet decides where to go, Fleet knows everything before we Infantry do.

Petty as it was, she felt a stab of resentment towards the man in front of her. Bunnerong was a fair man. A good captain. His ship had provided support to the Lions every step of the way. That didn't mean she wasn't entitled to hate his guts.

Nor Homecoming ours.

"You look like you have a question," Bunnerong asked.

"I'm a trooper, Captain. Unlike you, I'm not trained to think."

"Oh, I don't think so. I understood that OCS still did its job."

"I…" She wanted to ask questions of a different kind. Questions that might give her some moral clarity, and stop the pain in her chest, and the shake in her hand. But instead, playing the game, she asked, "why Roku San?"

Bunnerong didn't say anything.

"Sir, it fell to the Bugs four years ago. Why take it back?"

Bunnerong nodded to the window. "You spent time with the plebs for nine weeks, Captain Liang. You tell me."

Liang glanced at the window. At the planet beyond. Looked, and found no answer.

"We need a victory," Bunnerong said. "Four years ago, the Arachnids overran Roku San in a single day. Three years ago, a Bug controlled ship landed on Earth."

"An act of desperation," Liang said.

"Yes, of course," Bunnerong said, not sounding all that convincing. "But people need hope. People need a victory. Sky Marshal Riverfield wants Roku San back in our hands. With it, we secure an agri-world, and a bread-basket to supply our troops as we move into the AQZ. Because that's how this war ends, Captain Liang. With us going back on the offensive, and killing every one of those fucking Bugs. We kill them, we take victory, we reminded the people of worlds like this that they need the Federation."

Liang stood there, in silence. Hearing the fury in Bunnerong's words – more so, than the words themselves. Wondered if such words were directed towards her…or to himself?

She didn't know. And it was irrelevant. The Federation was winning the war. Troop enlistment was through the roof, especially after the minimum age for enlistment had been reduced to seventeen. If Sky Marshal Riverfield wanted Roku San, then who was she to question him?

And besides, in the space of a single year, the Lions had been deployed against their fellow humans twice. Going up against the Bugs, in all their horror, would still be more preferable.

"Dismissed, Captain."

Not that he had the authority to do so, but Liang nevertheless gave a quick salute, and headed for the ready room's exit. She pressed the button and the door hissed open. Remaining as such as she stepped forward, but didn't clear the opening.

"Sir?"

She looked back at Bunnerong.

"What happens at the site?" She asked. "Will be it shut down?"

"Excuse me?"

"Site Fifty-One. There's only a fraction of the original staff left. The one that didn't take part in the strike."

"Strike?"

"Rebellion," she corrected herself. "I'm just wondering…I mean, no-one is going to want to work there."

"They might not," said Bunnerong. "But it's irrelevant."

"Sir?"

"The Phillip and Coral aren't just bringing in Mobile Infantry, they're also bringing in scab labourers. Plus, we can utilize the civilians of Wallach Two to fill in the labour holes."

"Sir, that's…that's conscription."

"Is it? They're not enlisting in Federal service. They're not trying to become citizens."

Liang stood there, rigid. She knew the Federation utilized prison labour. But unless these were criminals – and the millions of people of Wallach Two certainly weren't criminals – this was illegal. Wasn't it?

"You don't look happy," Bunnerong murmured.

"I…"

"Captain Liang, these are civilians. People who can't, or won't, do their duty to the Federation, so have been given the opportunity to do it in other ways. They don't have the rights or responsibilities of citizens, so the question of conscription is moot."

"That's not…I…"

"Door's open, Captain Liang. Let's not leave it any longer than it has to."

And that, as they said, was that. Who "they" were, Liang wasn't sure. But likely not the founders of the Federation. Those who'd made it clear that what citizen rule meant. That it did not mean that those with the privilege of citizenship could abuse those without it.

But then, she told herself, times had changed. And if the Federal Council decided that they had to change with them…well, who was she to argue?

So she stepped into the corridor. Walked down it, however slowly. Hands in her pockets, her gaze downwards…trying to recall the lessons Suharto had imparted to her.

You'll never understand.

Trying to banish Benito's words from her mind. To banish the mere memory. Of when they'd spoken and drank together at his habitation unit. How it had held the promise of something better. Not only that he might one day tell her what had happened to his parents (a prospect that could now never be fulfilled), but of how, in a different world, things could have been…different.

She tried to banish it all away.

"Liang."

Tried, and failed, as she came face to face with Master Sergeant Marco Craddock.

Or not face to face, technically. As ever, he towered above her. Filled the width of the corridor. But his voice, the way he carried himself, the shadows in his eyes…he was a man diminished.

And no prizes for guessing why.

"What did he say?" He whispered.

She tried to smile. "Don't worry about Bunnerong."

"I'm not worried about him. I'm worried about us."

"The wounded? They'll be fine. Bullets are a bitch, but they can't compare to-"

"What we did, Liang!"

Liang sighed, as she looked at the man in front of her. Her master sergeant. Her friend. His collar was unbuttoned, his clothing was still damn, his hair was as wild as his eyes. Stubble had collected around his chin, and as he gripped the rail by the portside window, as he turned to face the void, she could see how pale it was, compared to his otherwise tanned skin.

She walked over to join him. In the window, she could see her reflection as well as the stars beyond. Of her eyes, no longer darkened from lack of sleep. Her black hair, now beyond regulation length. Of the two scars that marred her face – one from a Bug, one from a human. Two reminders of the enemies she would always have to face, even if one was preferable to the other.

Craddock's face lacked such scars. But he was clearly carrying scars of a different kind.

"I know what we did," Liang said eventually.

Craddock just stood there, staring into the abyss.

"What we all did. What we were ordered to do."

"What we were ordered to do," he repeated scathingly.

Liang sighed, and took his arm with her hand. "If it makes you feel any better, I was the one who gave the order."

Craddock scoffed. "We both know that's a bullshit excuse."

"Maybe." She leant against the wall, recalling her old memory.

We surrender! We surrender!

"Or maybe not. You know how chain of command works."

He looked at her. Whispered, "we all share responsibility."

"Perhaps. But…" She sighed. "Remember those people, I mean, peace terrorists, on Juno Terengai? When we burst into that room, and found them cowering? I never found out who opened fire. Who, in doing so, got all the other troopers to fire."

Craddock remained silent.

"But it doesn't matter," she whispered. "Because I was in command. It was my burden Because that's how chain of command works, Craddock. The more insignias get on your shoulder, the larger the burden on them."

"How much?" Craddock whispered.

Liang remained silent.

"How much of a burden is on yours?"

Biting her lip, Liang took her hand away.

"Is it there at all?!"

She nodded towards the end of the corridor.

"No," he said. "You don't get to do that. I want an answer. I deserve an answer."

"Deserve?" she whispered. "What do you deserve, Craddock?"

The master sergeant remained silent.

"You enlisted in the Mobile Infantry. You know the oath. To serve as the Federation needs me, for however long."

"I know the oath," he whispered. "And those aren't its words."

"But it's their intent."

He scoffed. "Do you think the founders of the Federation intended us to be used like this?"

"Maybe," she answered.

"Against our own people?"

"The Federation was formed after a war against our own people. When humanity was divided into many people. Before we imagined just how different, and species-threatening, alien life could be." She nodded to the window. To the endless field of stars beyond it. "For centuries, we wondered if we were alone. Now? We wish we were."

Craddock didn't say anything.

"So attributed Sky Marshal Tahat Maru, after she replaced Sky Marshal Dienes, after First Klendathu" Liang said. "And who could dispute that?"

Craddock still remained silent. Whether he agreed or not, Liang couldn't tell. But instead, he walked beside her. Even with his height, and bulk, there was enough room at the window for both of them. To stand in long silence.

"We killed over eighty people today," he whispered.

Liang didn't say anything. There was some comfort in his words, but still, she'd given the order. She'd opened fire along with everyone else. She'd authorized the use of white phosphorous, she'd cleared out the Mammoth, as well as the armoury. And she'd even delivered the coup de grace to Benito Sanchez herself, despite her pleading with him to stand down.

"Can you promise me we'll never do it again?" Craddock asked.

Liang glanced at him.

"Can you promise there'll never be a third time?"

Liang sighed. "You know I can't."

Craddock nodded, as tears formed in his eyes. "I do. And that's why this will be the last time you see me."

Liang's eyes widened.

"I'm out."

And with that, her master sergeant began to walk away. Down the corridor. Into oblivion.

"Craddock."

Getting further away with every passing step.

"You can't walk away Craddock! You enlist, you stay in the Infantry as long as you're needed."

He stopped, and leant against the wall. As if he was having trouble keeping his balance.

"Craddock?" Liang whispered.

"Transfer," he whispered. "Transfer…training…anything else…away from this…"

"Craddock," she repeated.

He remained silent.

"Craddock, you're a good NCO. You're great master sergeant. You're my friend. Hell, probably my only friend."

He remained silent.

"Craddock," Liang whispered. "Please. I need you."

He looked back at her, and smiled, even as tears streamed down his cheeks. "You don't need me," he whispered.

Liang remained silent.

"After all…I was the one who opened fire on Juno Terengai."

Liang stared at him. Trembling.

"I was scared," he whispered. "I was scared, and I fired, and then everyone started firing, and then…God, they were dead, and I didn't say anything, and…" He sniffed, his Adam's apple quivering, as he wiped his eye.

"But hey, chain of command, right?"

We surrender! We surrender!

The pleas of the dead rang in her ears.

Craddock looked away from her. "They say all citizens go to Heaven. But even so…we're not angels." He sniffed. "None of us are."

"You…" She took a breath. "You…"

He nodded, smiling sadly. "Goodbye, Sonia."

"Craddock, you…" The words "you aren't a monster," died on her lips.

She didn't utter them. She couldn't excuse Craddock, in the knowledge of what it would make her.

Chain of command worked that way.

She watched as her NCO departed. To a new branch, to the brig, wherever, she couldn't say.

He kept walking. Never looking back.

Not seeing his trembling captain.

Not seeing the tears streaming down her cheeks.

Not seeing her turn, her throat quivering, as she turned her gaze to the darkness of space.

Thinking of words spoken, and actions undertaken.

Of friends lost, and foes slain.

Of the countless battles that her awaited her.

Out there, amongst the stars.