Right from the start, the drop went to hell. We couldn't get out, first off. Rienzi had to go up the beach then drop us out the back. Meaning all Jemmy had to do was shoot at the sides to pin us down. Seems that designing the ship for ease of the pilot would've been a much better idea if they hadn't insisted on fitting a whole section into it. But then, there was nothing saying we had to land on the beach, in specific. Our starboy took the orders a little bit too literally.

We broke from the waves, and flew out in a staggered pair of echelon formations. Ground fire started coming up almost immediately, but the phasers on the horses did their jobs. If anyone was on that beach when we landed, they were pinned down. Rienzi dropped us out as near the waterline as they could get, it seemed. We had a good hundred metres between us and some structure. Each of us dropped out the access hatch in back, and rolled to the ground as Rienzi sped along the beachfront. We were trained in doing this for emergencies. Seemed that was just what we were getting ourselves into.

I looked down the beach after I dropped out. Our whole section was sprinting up to the wall of this one ruin. I followed suit. "SECTION!" I screamed. "DELTA! FORM on ME!" There had been a Cardie gun emplacement on top of it, but smoke was coming out-- whatever was inside had been phaser-burned to a crisp. I could smell toasted flesh. "ECHO! OVER the TOP!" Tim took his company into the building to fortify it. "DELTA! FORM on ME!" I saw another ruin, with a standing front, facing me. I had a feeling. I took Delta across the road. I gave Julia the hand signal for 'left-- around-- check rear'. She pointed to four of the troops, and went around the side. Moments later I heard phaser fire, and we went in the front door. Three Cardies had been inside.

"Well," I said. "Good to see you have this under control."

"Thank you, sir."

"Okay. Our objective is the jammer complex. We have to take it out."

"Our company in specific, sir?" Emerson asked.

"No. The regiment. It's on the far side of town. Julia?"

"Six blocks north, five east."

"Right past that replicator facility," Heath realized.

"Not past, Mr. Heath. Through."

Indeed, Fox and Gold companies had landed right on the grounds of the industrial replicator facility, and were in it presently. It was a good two-block hike for us, but we legged it. We moved by leapfrog, from ruins mound to ruins mound, each one a momentary stronghold, with Echo. They moved out of their structure, and we held the approaches. Then we moved, and they had their rifles up. We worked through a number of what the map had told me were once dockhouses without taking fire.

I looked up into the town, away from the lakeshore, at one moment. It was tiered upwards, away from the lake. Standing out even in the dawn was a single large compound on the very crest of the ridge that ran through town, a citadel. We took to calling it, in the weeks to come, the High Castle. At first we couldn't imagine having to refer to things by name. We just pointed-- that house, this street, and so on.

We moved into the industrial replicator facility. I heard phasers and enemy weapons exchanging fire down the far end. The complex itself was huge-- fortified against aerial bombardment and phaser fire alike, with a set of shield generators about the place. Those had been off when we landed. Snowmane had swept through and taken them out. We looked through the place, quickly. Tim sent a few nanoprobes into the main computer. By the time we had got the whole section into the building, Tim controlled it with little more effort than if it was his weapon. And so it became. He sealed the doors shut, and turned on all the lights. Cardie had no place to hide.

"Give it up!" we called out to the spoonheads, hoping they would get the hint. I saw Alri, and I kept a close eye on her. She had her phaser rifle at hip-height, but if she raised it to fire, I was ready for her.

One of the spoons didn't feel like giving it up so easily, and he aimed his gun at the replicator. He never had a chance. Alri cut him down, then the rest of them, without blinking.

"What the HELL are you doing?" yelled Pelletier.

"He wasn't going to surrender, sir."

"You're Bajoran, Alri," I reminded her, "not Betazoid."

She gave me a dirty look, and lowered her rifle.

"STARFLEET--- We HOLD this POSITION! Fortify the approaches!"

"Shields activated," Tim said.

I walked over to talk to Pelletier and Bellamy, and their seconds, with Julia.

"What the hell do we do now?"

Bellamy spoke first. "Recommend we hold this position."

"Jemmy's going to expect us to do that," Pelletier said. "We've got to blow it and keep moving to the objective."

"Twelve industrial replicators? No way," I said.

"I agree," Bellamy said while nodding. "These could come in handy. Especially if we're down here a while."

"So we just sit here?"

"We've got to make this place secure, but at the same time, I don't know how much we can hope for." I shrugged. "You see that ridge? We've got to get to the other side of it to achieve the objective."

"Comms are dead," Pelletier informed us. "We can't call in backup."

"We need to fortify this compound," I decided. "We'll hold it and see if we can't find a way to use it as a base of operations."

"Sounds like a plan," Bellamy agreed. "Let's start."

Tim did most of the work, admittedly. Having him around saved us so much time learning how to program the replicators. He just re-wrote the code to reproduce what we needed, Fed and enemy patterns alike. We had four shrouded pillboxes pre-fabricated and ready for set-up just within the shield perimeter. So even if Jemmy did break through, there was nothing he could do.

The tricky part was what happened between us getting the shields up, and Tim closing the doors. If there were any Cardies outside, we had to be ready for them. I formed up a patrol of six and went out through the side door, swept around the lakeside wall of the building out to the shield perimeter. Then I had a second patrol, led by Pelletier, sweep out the door after we'd cleared it, and move left while we moved around the opposite side of the building. Right away, Jemmy fire started coming down a narrow alleyway, but the building's shield perimeter knocked it away. Else we would've all been dead. We returned fire, standing up, and the phaser fire went right through the shield and struck Jemmy dead. Just a patrol, by the looks of it. I kept us moving.

We swept over past the wire into a nearby pre-fab barracks that Spoony had dropped in.

"Reckon we should stay on this side of the line, sir," Pratt said.

"We have to clear the surrounding buildings-- shields or no shields."

"Understood." She drew her pocket phaser in one hand, tricorder in the other. "I'm reading six life signs. There may be more, shrouded."

"Everyone ready? Let's go."

We had met up with Pelletier's patrol now. The two skirmishing patrols we had now moved past the shield perimeter. Tim had already re-programmed it to recognize Starfleet commbadges as an entry point countersign. We passed through it with a blink. Right away, four of Jemmy unshrouded right around us, and we took them down. One of Pelletier's kids, Coleman, took one in the shoulder. His medic, Fournier, took him back across the wire. I sent Lott over to join Pelletier's company, keep our numbers even.

We burst in the door, and flanked it up a set of stairs. Pelletier's company cleared the first floor. At the top were three Cardies with guns drawn. They hit Lange, who rolled down. I side-stepped and narrowly missed joining his tumble. I took down one Cardie with a shot; Park nailed a second square in the chest, heavy stun. The third one set his gun to overload. By that point, Sholar must've hit him, because he tumbled to the side, dead.

"EVERYONE OUT! CLEAR OUT! CLEAR OUT NOW!" I picked up the lower end of Lange, and Pratt and I carried him out, while the rest of the patrol made for the exits. Another four-Jemmy patrol had come upon us, unshrouded, and hit Lott and another of Fox company-- but we took all four of them down without an issue. There were only seven of us now; Emerson and Pratt carried Lange while I tossed Lott over my shoulder, and Pelletier looked to his own.

It was just as we were across the wire that the whole building shuddered with the explosion. It blew the roof clear off. I saw Sholar standing there, his eyepiece in place.

"Don't see any others around for a klick or so, sir."

"Good," I replied. Not that it meant anything. Jemmy could have a whole flanking column heading out to besiege us and we'd never know it. I had Sholar put a couple extra bullets off in different directions, down streets, just to see if he could hit anything. We could hear the ricochet on one all the way down a street, without a wound to show for it that we could see.

Then I told Sholar to reposition, and do what he could putting fire on that Jemmy stronghold up on the ridge. I wanted them living in terror. Gold company had a sniper with a rifle just like Sholar's, a fellow named Ali Hadawi. I had Hadawi and Sholar work together and find as many Cardies as they could in the outlying area.

The rest of us mostly just held the shield perimeter. We'd hear Jemmy out there, shooting, and we'd take a position. The whole thing was actually down in what I had read to once have been some sort of amphitheatre or something. So we were in a bit of a depression in the ground. Which was good-- natural defillade was a bonus.

I had Tim extend the shielding grid to include the ridge of the amphitheatre's form, and then I stationed patrols just inside. If Jemmy wanted in, he either had to make for the front door, or come in over the top. Either way, we had shields, he didn't.

About that time, Bravo and Chicago companies made for our position. We'd all had our initial-point, which was actually right near the replicator. I think we took it a little too easily, myself. And one Jemmy scarab over the area would render our progress null-- they could break our shields no problem.

One problem we encountered right away was using the commbadges as a way in. Four Jemmy popped up, with commbadges they'd swiped off dead Starfleeters, right past the main gate shield generator. They strapped a bomb to it-- we only managed to take out one of them. We all hit the deck until the bomb blew. When it did, Jemmy unshrouded and came through the breach in the shield-- over the top, through the gate, any way he could get in. We held firm, though we lost six --three from Bravo, one from Fox, another from Golf, and Delta's own Will Ulrich. Ulrich had been Marianne's replacement; they had traded duties. So far, Ulrich had seemed to be doing well, so I hadn't said anything. Jemmy just got lucky. I couldn't help but wonder if Marianne would've been in his place.

It was about noon by the time we heard comms traffic again. Lieutenant Ronik came through loud and clear. Elements of 1st and 4th Regiments had broken through to take the jammer complex, and were requesting reinforcements. We stayed behind to hold the replicator complex.

"Lieutenant Ronik, this is Sergeant Dixon."

"Sergeant... Dixon?"

"Delta Company, sir."

"Ah. Go ahead, Dixon."

"Sir, four of your companies have taken the industrial replicator hold it. We hold it presently."

"Understood. Instruct all sections to hold position. I will attempt to link up with you there this afternoon. Ronik out."

"Son of a bitch," Pricey said. "He's got Hotel and Able out there and he's blitzing around with our right flank."

"Didn't think Vulcans had a sense of victory," Welshie added.

"Either way, orders are for us to stay put."

"Sure," Bellamy added. "Fighting's going on somewhere else."

"Maybe the Vulcans need this one. I don't know."

I shrugged it off. Vulcans could do whatever they wanted. I'd gladly babysit these replicators for the rest of the war. Didn't affect me none. But, of course, that was not to be the case.

"Hayden."

Julia came running over, and stood at attention. "Sir."

"No, no, Julia--- don't make it look like you're talking to me like I'm in charge."

"Sir?"

"Jemmy can see in here. He sees you saluting me and hanging on my every word, he's going to figure you're either my love-slave or my second. Either way, I'm important enough to get the attentions of a lovely woman in a combat zone. So knock it off."

Hayden looked at me for a moment, and then down. I looked off, and then something put me on the ground. I felt a stinging pain in my upper jaw, and I stumbled back to my feet.

"Just acting the part, sir," she said.

"So you hit me?"

"Beggin' the sergeant's pardon, but nobody addresses me that way."

"What'd I say?" I wasn't just knocked flat on my ass. I was floored.

But Hayden said nothing more. "You wanted to see me, sir?"

"Yeah-- get me that map. No, you know what? Don't bother. I'll get it myself."

"Sir." Then she walked away.

Tim Walters, as well as the other sergeants, had come running up. "What the deuce was that?"

"Never mind. You got a map?"

"Yeah. You need a look-see?"

"I'm taking us over onto the offensive." I turned to Pelletier, Bellamy and Price. "You in?"

"Anything's better than standing pat," Bellamy said. Pelletier and Price nodded.

"Where's Welshie?"

"Leading a patrol," Price said, "but he totally agreed with you. We need to get moving."

"I think we can figure something out. If we leave one section here, and take the other two out, right up the hill at the High Castle, we should be able to make our mark."

"Shouldn't we co-ordinate with the other regiments?"

"No need," I said. "If they're aiming at a Starfleet uniform, and firing? We've already lost this war."

"Agreed," Pelletier added. "Besides, it's not like they shouldn't expect us."

"We're going to take high casualties," Bellamy said.

"Nah. Think about it. Jemmy is going to expect us from the left and right-- and he's still got Spoony in reserve, since he's too afraid to put them into the fight."

"Right."

"So what we have to do," I continued, "is come right at them. And I know just the way to do it."

"How?"

"We call the T-child, and tell them to put a couple torpedoes down right in the courtyard. They'll be dazed. The Vulcans will take that opportunity to charge. We'll be in position to be the first ones in."

"Wait a minute," Price objected. "We're in no position to capitalize just for the sake of rubbing it in the Vulcans' faces."

"That's not what this is about. Our objective is to win the war. We take the High Castle, then the reinforcements arrive, we clean this planet up, and we all go home. Not a bad day's work, I'd say."

Price raised a hand. "Except that if the High Castle is in ruins from a few torpedo drops, what are we taking?"

"We could use the horses," Bellamy suggested. "We could drop down right in the High Castle, storm it from within."

"Or we could use the troop transporters on the T-child," I mused.

"We couldn't do that without reliable sensor data," Price reminded me.

"I know. Hayden-- front and centre!"

Julia took her time coming over.

"Today, Hayden."

"Yes, sir." She continued to stroll.

"If you don't triple time it RIGHT NOW, CORPORAL, I will PERSONALLY SHIP YOUR REMAINS HOME! NOW MOVE!"

Hayden broke into a run.

"The map." Julia handed me the map. I held it out for all the sergeants to see. "Corporal Hayden has taken the liberty" --and I hung on that last word for a moment-- "of collecting all the data she could-- topography, troop placements, gun moorings, the whole deal. The High Castle, ladies and gentlemen."

"But how are we going to do this?"

"We can contact the T-child. We're just not supposed to. So we do a relay via Rienzi or Traveller."

"And then?"

"Then we beam back to the main transporter room, and reassemble in the troop transport room."

"And then we drop right in on them!" Price clapped his hands. "I'm in."

"Me too," Bellamy added.

"I'll get Welshie onboard, Sarge," Price added. "I mean, he's section leader. He'd go for this in a heartbeat, though."

"We'll have to collect our companies, split them into two, and rapidly be beamed out, one squad at a time. Jemmy will detect the transporter activity and search for a source. He'll look up. That'll buy us time. We'll have to co-ordinate with Battalion Command, let them know what we're up to."

"I'll take care of that," Bellamy volunteered.

"All right. Price-- you want to talk to Ronik?"

"Sure-- way I see it, though, Sarge, you're the man in charge of this regiment."

"Nonetheless-- get him on comms. Tim-- can you patch a comm channel through to the ship?"

"No problem. I could fly Rienzi if you needed me to."

"No need. The horses are patrolling our flanks on radio silence."

Tim looked at me surprised. "How do you know that?"

"It's on the map, right here," I pointed out.

"Sure. I just thought only I knew that. Sensor suite I installed on the roof."

"Right. Okay. Pelletier-- you and me, we're going to have to get everyone corralled inside, in tight formations, ready for transport. We're going to have ten, maybe fifteen minutes to pull this off."

Walters blinked and looked at me. "I have T-child on comms."

I pointed to my commbadge. "Dixon here."

"Lieutenant Dixon, this is Commander---"

"Sir, that's Sergeant Sean Dixon, Third Section leader, First of the Fourth, Two-oh-Second."

"Oh. Sergeant. Forgive me. Commander Bowie here. Go ahead."

I explained the plan to our esteemed starboy leader, who agreed. By that point, Pricey had done as good as he said, but he came back with Welshie in the middle of my talk to Bowie. They stayed quiet until I had talked the Commander into authorizing the beam-outs.

"Ronik's dead," he informed me afterwards. "So's three-quarters of Hotel Section, including their first and second."

"No..." It was all I could say.

"We're not authorized to make any direct recommendations," Welshie said, "but it's always unofficially done when a regimental leader goes down in battle."

"I know," I said. "And Roseman's out. She was Ronik's first choice."

"I think I was his second choice," Welshie said, "but I'm too old for this. I say we put it to a vote."

"Why bother?" Bellamy asked. "Anyone going to vote for anyone other than Sean?"

No one moved.

"Yeah," I said. "I would. I'm not cut out for this. Everyone who outranks me keeps dying off. Hell of a way to get a field commission."

"There's no other way out of the NCO ranks except death," Tim added. "If they ask, we're all putting you in the big man chair, boss."

"Well, I'd still want you as my second, Tim. So start training a replacement, okay?"

"Yes, sir, mister big-bad lieutenant." He smirked at me.

"Hey now, don't be startin' on that until it's on my neck, okay?"

"Yes, sir."

"All right-- Welsh, Pelletier-- which one of you is staying here?"

"Reckon it should be me," Welsh said. "Price and me can hold this place 'til you folks come back." He stepped forward and pointed at me, poking me softly right on the chest. "And you bring 'em back."

"Consider it done. Okay. Let's roll." We broke off to ready our companies, when Tim stopped me.

"Look, all that stuff you just talked big wasn't all an excuse to go back and see your woman, was it?"

"Course not. We need a way in, and Jemmy ain't gonna open the door for us, I don't reckon."

They beamed us out first. I triple-timed my half of the company off the pad, and Hayden's half beamed in right behind us. We were down the hall and around to Troop Transport Room Two in three minutes.

The door opened. No Marianne. I tried not to be disappointed. But I was. I hustled my half into place, then Hayden and her half of Delta. Echo came in next, first M'Nurr's half of that company. Tim came in with his bunch second.

"She's not here," he said to me.

"None of my concern," I nodded.

I was done ushering through Fox company, with Gold on their way, when Marianne burst in the room, looking completely exasperated.

"Why didn't you--- why didn't you tell me you'd be back?"

"Reckon it wouldn't be for long. I didn't want you worrying."

"I have been worried, Sean! You haven't send me a commlink since you left!"

"Couldn't-- radio silence." I had two padds in my hand, and I gave her the one without the map on it. "I wrote something down for you, last night. I don't have time to say it."

"How long do they have?" Marianne asked the operator.

"Three minutes."

"Okay. Come here." She pulled me aside.

I pointed to Bellamy as Gold came in, and said, "take over?"

"Sure thing! Okay-- let's move!"

There was one spot still open-- for me.

"We can't get out," Marianne told me. "I heard some engineers talking. This ship is stuck down here."

"What?"

"The impulse engines are too powerful, they just shred the lake bed. The reactor control thrusters don't operate for long underwater, and we can't very well generate a warp field. They're going to have to attempt to use inverse tractor-beam fields, to push off, get themselves high enough that they can use the impulse engines and blast us out. But we're stuck down here."

"Oh my," I said. "How long will that take?"

"Won't matter if Jemmy attacks. But they figure it'll take two weeks to modify the tractor beams. They're on some sort of spindle, I guess? They'll just break off in a planetary gravity field."

"Look... transporters still work. And they're promoting me to Lieutenant."

Marianne looked excited and squealed, "really?"

I raised a calming hand. "Ronik's dead. They're putting me in for it. Provided I survive."

"Oh, that's still good, though. A field commission. I'm so proud of you, Sean."

"Thanks." I just sort of smiled.

"Sir?" the operator said. "Thirty seconds."

"Okay."

"You gotta go?" Marianne asked.

"I gotta go. We're storming the castle, beautiful. I gotta go to work. But I'll be home soon."

"And I'll be waiting. I love you."

"I know. See you soon."

I checked my rifle and tapped my commbadge. "All sections-- clear?"

"Delta-- clear!" Hayden reported.

"Echo-- clear!"

"Fox-- clear!"

"Gold-- clear!"

"You all done with the little lady?" Tim asked.

"Nope. We're gonna live forever, me and her." I waved to her as the compartment door sealed itself into place.

"FIFTEEN SECONDS!" the operator's voice boomed from the overhead speaker.

"All right, Starfleet-- let's do what we do best. Close quarters for us, no quarter for Jemmy. No prisoners. No retreat. No going back.

"ENERGIZE!"

The blue. I always loved the blue. It had that reassuring shade to it, like the lake we were beaming out of.

Two weeks. T-child was stranded completely. Somebody must have been sitting in an office on some starbase right now, asking how this could've gone so tragically wrong. See, Akira-classers might be designed for landing, but not for seagoing. At least, not in the formal sense of the word. I wanted to have told Marianne to fix sails and make for the north star. I wanted to tell her that all I ask is a tall brunette, and a star to dance with her by.

I wanted to tell her so much... so much of which vanished into the blue, as we beamed right into the centre of the High Castle.

It was just as Hayden's map had predicted. Two hundred metres square, sloped walls, real Cardie looking job, like that space station. We materialized, all sixty of us, right down in the centre of Jemmygrad. Nobody saw us-- the sensors didn't even register a perimeter breach at first. I ordered, by hand signal, for Fox to clear the wall, for Gold to storm the barracks, and for Echo to shut down the external shield generator. I signalled back to Delta that we were going to sweep around the Castle in squads of four. I pointed to Alri, to Sholar, and to Pratt. Hayden took Lange, Bluvid, and Dalton. The other six sort of milled about around Emerson. After all, Lott was still in the limited sickbay we had back in the facility, and Ulrich was dead. Our company was fourteen, functional.

I had Sholar take a position, with Pratt, out of the way. I took Alri with me up a staircase to the wall. We surprised three Jemmies on the far side of it, apparently on their way out to patrol. A fourth unshrouded; Alri took care of him. We fired along the base of the wall, and Jemmy started charging towards our position. Someone sounded a perimeter alarm; Cardies came pouring out right into Gold's line of fire. Fox covered them and put fire on anything that moved up on the wall. Then they burst over the top.

From the top of the line, I could see the Starfleet phaser fire coming towards the ridge. Third Battalion's line of combat was about two klicks out. I looked the other way-- Fourth was three klicks out. They'd linked up with Second Battalion in town and were sweeping across, using a building on the north side of town as a swivel point. Knowing Fourth Battalion, it was the same building where they'd shut down that damned jammer complex. Jemmy knew better than to put so prized a target inside of a major fortified area like the High Castle.

Tim took control of the shield generator, and re-programmed it. It was below decks; a few Spoon technician types had manned it, but they were presided over by hardened troops. And a hidden bunker complex had been discovered by Echo while their sergeant was hard at work. They'd cleared it out.

I tapped my commbadge. "Company leaders-- report!"

"Echo-- all clear below! Shields secured"

"Delta-- clear on deck!"

"Gold-- barracks clear!"

"Fox-- clear up top!"

"All right-- Third Section: form on the doors. Tim, open 'em up. We're going out. Second Section: garrison detail. Pelletier-- get on the comms to Third Battalion command. Tell 'em not to come in shooting."

"Yes, sir!"

I went with Alri across the battlements to the gatehouse. "What do you think?" I asked her.

"If I may, sir."

"Go ahead."

"I never respected you until this moment."

I chuckled. "No one did, Alri. No one except one woman on a sunken starship."

"If you need a regiment advisor, sir. Someone who specializes in cityfights."

"I'll keep you in mind."

We went down the stairs and met up with Delta. Hayden gave me an exasperated look.

"I was off by a metre, sir. The barracks-- they couldn't have moved it. Could they?"

"Don't sweat it, Hayden. Lead your company out."

"Sir?"

"You heard me."

"Oh. All right." It was the first and only time I've ever seen Julia Hayden at a loss as to how to behave. Didn't last nearly long enough. "DELTA! FORM on ME! Let's move out!"

"Door?" Tim said to me.

"No time like the present."

Gold company was just moving around to man the upper battlements when we moved out. The sloped walls left no place to hide, so we had no fear of ambush. We swept out, right along the crest of the ridge. Tim came out with a formation beacon, and set it at a point about ten metres from the gate. Moments later, the horses came screaming in, their auto-phasers whining with the sweet sound of fire support. We moved out, in a pack formation, sweeping down the ridge's westward side.

From the gate --just to give you an idea of the land-- was about a half-klick gradient that just sort of twisted off. The town itself was built up around this ridge, and a garrison road had connected the fort with what appeared to be a flat road beyond, running north-south. From the air, you could see that road connect to another, beyond the lake, at a three-way intersection, cut right out of the rock like a dried-up canal. Perfect for moving troops along, as we were to find out.

But the ridge itself sloped down that way, as if to make it harder to storm the fort from the road. Of course, the Cardie additions to the ancient citadel didn't hurt none. There were other similar ridges, running north-south, a total length of six klicks. Fourth Battalion was fighting their way around, and up, the south side, while Third Battalion was storming southward down the north side.

By then, the starboys on the horses had let the battalion commanders know what was going on, so we had a mad rush up to the High Castle. Jemmy had expected us, after all, to come up from the road, if anywhere. So we really had surprised him coming out of the lake. It wasn't a lesson he'd soon forget.

Jemmy doesnt know how to surrender, see. So every centimetre of ground was paid for in a redshirt's life. Spoony was a little smarter, he'd taken to his heels down that ridge a long time ago. But Jemmy held firm. And the redshirts kept coming. By the time they'd rallied and driven the last of Jemmy down, Third Battalion was decimated and Second and Fourth were just as beat. But we'd done it.

Now we just had to hold it for two weeks until T-child could get itself out of the mud. Of course, Jemmy had other plans. He wanted the High Castle as much as he did. Not that I could blame him. You could see for kilometres up there.

Counter-attacks started coming early that evening. Jemmy unshrouded all over, Spoony kept trying to charge up the trench out of foxholes and tunnels. We knew there were tunnels down there. We just couldn't do much.

Second Battalion was shuttled that night into reserve back on the ship. T-child sent us shuttlecraft to handle the wounded, but they were escorted by Shadowfax-classers every klick back to the ship. Third Battalion was hardly in fighting shape, so it and First Battalion was ordered by Captain Valan to hold the vast space between the ridge and the lakeshore. It was about two klicks, I figured, at its widest point. Jemmy would try to pinch us off from that direction. That left Fourth in command of the ridge. And since we were First of the Fourth, we naturally drew all the choice assignments. Like, you know, patrol.

They let Marianne come out on a shuttle run. She had asked permission to see me get my pips. I don't know, looking back, it was probably a mistake for me to accept promotion-- but then, that's what they all say, isn't it? They did a full parade showing of our regiment in the High Castle's courtyard, right in front of the three barracks. We'd brought in two more, as well as one of the industrial replicators from the facility down lakeside. Actually, to be honest, it wasn't an industrial replication facility any longer. Corps of Engineers had been salivating at the prospect of getting their hands on one Jem'Hadar replicator-- and we could pass along nine, completely intact. That was how the facility got its name-- after we beamed out the replicator units, we took to calling it the Low Castle, since we fortified it and made it every bit as formidable a structure as its ridge-top counterpart.

But getting back to me. Marianne always said I was too modest, so I'm probably going to leave a lot out. They had the regiment present-- Hotel company and Able company woefully diminished by casualties as they were. Of Hotel, there were three survivors: Medic Sapurji, and Privates Filson and Potter. Sergeant Roseman, Corporal Geist, and eleven others were either dead or wounded. None were expected to return. And Able Company, which had really been nothing more than a front for the regiment's medical team, remained intact. They'd largely been doing their work behind the lines while Ronik had taken Hotel with him as a sort of personal retinue. He didn't want to miss any of the action, and sure enough, action was kind enough to hit such an easy target.

Another Lieutenant had gone down as well, so a Sergeant named T'Ralsa and I were both given our new rank insignia and notifications of field commission by Captain Valan himself, on behalf of Fleet Admiral Alynna Nechayev, Starfleet Command. There was applause. They catered. Nobody ate because Jemmy sensed something big was happening and launched a full-scale assault. For a redshirt, that's the highest honour: to be lauded by your friends and stormed by your enemies in the same night.

I got the night off as leave to celebrate with Marianne. Was hard to kiss her with my jaw swollen, so we stopped by sickbay first thing. We ended up in her quarters with an empty bottle of champagne and two heaps of uniform on the floor. I beamed back in that morning, for a meeting with Julia Hayden, Alri Magro and Tim Walters --my regimental staff. All three of them had been promoted-- Tim to Sergeant First Class, Alri to Corporal.

Hotel company, I folded into Delta. Rahim Sapurji took Rachel Pratt's place as medic, Larissa Potter and Wade Filson the places of David Emerson and the late Will Ulrich. I'd put Pratt and Emerson to my staff, one as our medic, the other as our "science officer". I knew damn well that Dave was no science officer, but it worked on paper. And it kept them together. I'd given Rachel and Dave the day's leave on T-child, though. They were all too appreciative for the time with each other. If there was one thing I understood, it was the importance of keeping two kids in love focused on each other, and not the ugliness around them.

But that was just where my attention had to be. "All right," I said. I pointed to Julia. "Defense." I pointed to Alri. "Offense." Then I pointed to Tim. "Reality." Then I went around to my desk --they gave me an office. My garrison... my office. Not much of a keep, but I made do. "Let's hear options. Don't argue with each other. Presume we can do everything until I get told otherwise."

"Recommend we strengthen our defenses by adding more tactical auto-phasers on the flank angles of the curtain walls," Julia began.

"They won't do any good against a concerted Cardassian attack. I say we mine the approaches." This was Alri's opinion.

Tim was a little more open-minded. "Do both, and use Jemmy spook-mines. I can fit whatever you want to those turrets. That replicator will hum out all the goods you need, boss. You want spook mines, I can even rig up the mine-layer transporter that Jemmy uses. And I'm laying out a sensor grid along the lower decks just in case anyone tries to dig themselves a hole up our backside."

"Do it. Mine that whole town if you have to. But make them sensitive to-- I don't know, human vitals."

"What about our Vulcan troops?" Julia asked.

"Yeah? What about 'em? They won't be going down that way anytime soon."

"I still think we should take the fight to them, sir," Alri insisted. "Does us no good to just stay here and wait for the end."

"Captain Valan disagrees," Julia pointed out.

"What of it? He can disagree all he wants as long as he's down in the Low Castle." Alri made a sort of disapproving grunt.

"Look," Tim added, "we can sit here and argue all day just the same as he can sit down there and... be logical-- what do Vulcans do in their spare time anyway?"

"I don't think they know either," I joked.

"Sir," Julia said with that Prime-Directive sneer. You know the one-- don't joke about them because they're different! They're the same way to you! So it goes.

"Yeah, yeah-- look, we're here. And I'm not hearing any concrete options. We either go down there to clean it out ourselves, or we mine the hell out of the ruins and let them walk into it. Neither are acceptable-- one creates a lot of destruction, the other potentially causes a lot of casualties. Either way, our rules of engagement are prohibitive. I need to know what we're prepared to do, and how."

"We had a tactic, at the Kervala monastery, back on Bajor. We created a single strong target, made the spoonheads force a confrontation there. Then we surrounded them and forced them to surrender."

"Except we have a bigger problem than that. We can't just abandon this position."

"Not suggesting that we do. The tactics might be a little different, but the strategic value? They're going to come after us, in order to break us. Only this Division has a strength we never did back in the Resistance: trained forces, huge numbers, good support."

"So what are you suggesting?"

"Don't mine all the approaches. Just the ones that we can't turn into kill zones. Set up a string of sub-fortifications along a trench, running down the ridge. With your sensor net in there, Sergeant."

"Should be no problem to lay that," Tim replied.

"And we can use the FaT units to cut the trenches," Julia added.

"Then we sit and wait. We know that the enemy is going to have to scale this ridge. They're not going to climb the hard way. They're going to come right at this point-- possibly from the air."

"I figured as much," Tim said. "I've got air-defense concealed on the four main points. Quad-linked phaser pulse-cannon. Designed just for that purpose."

"What are the odds of them using a scarab in atmosphere?"

"Roughly the same odds of them charging up that hill," Tim replied with a glint in his mechanical eye. "Don't worry. We're ready on the air defense. And those guns can be easily turned on ground forces."

"I want two more, emplacement style, on each side of the curtain wall."

"Consider it done." Tim went to replicate the guns, but stopped momentarily. "Including the back?"

"Especially the back. You know Jemmy."

"Oh yeah. Like I said. Two hours."

"Alri-- I want you to work with Sergeant M'Nurr of Echo, get down to business laying out trenches. And check with Sergeant Park, see if Delta can't give you a hand."

"Sure. I'll come back later and let you know what we've got."

"Right. Dismissed." Alri made her way out without saluting. The only one who still saluted was Julia, and then, I hadn't dismissed her yet.

"Now, then. Sit, Sergeant. I had been meaning to have a discussion with you."

"Sir," she said, and sat where Alri had been sitting. There was only the one chair-- I'd made a point of asking Tim to provide me with at least three more. Small office, and I was going to have even less room for myself.

"The other day, we had a bit of an... altercation."

"Yes, sir. I apologize, sir."

"Not good enough. I could have you court-martialed and escorted back to T-child's brig for this."

"Sir?" There was a quiver in Julia's voice. She wasn't the type to quiver.

"You know the regulations better than I do for assault on a senior non-commissioned officer. As I was at the time. A little fudging of the records, we could make it seem like you punched me after my promotion."

I stood up, and walked along the narrow space between the wall and my desk, to sit on the top of it, facing Julia. "And, let me be honest with you-- we need officers of your quality in the field, not jailed for high crimes."

"Sir, I can explain."

"You damn well better."

"I'm from Siralo, sir. Perhaps you've heard of it."

"Can't say I have, no."

"Women on that planet... learn at an early age not to take any nonsense from the men. And thus it's common for us, when insulted, to... strike back at the one who offended us."

"I see."

"To not do so is a sign of submission." She stopped, and looked up at me. "Sexual submission, sir."

"I got that, yes."

"And it's not anything to do with you, sir. I just... didn't appreciate your remark."

"Well, really, you could've done the Federation thing and simply addressed your concerns in a well-written letter to your Council Representative. Either way, it's better than... I don't even know what that would be-- the Klingon way?"

"I'm sorry, sir. I really am, but at the time I didn't even think. And I meant to address it with you, but you'd been gone all day yesterday."

"I'm aware of my inaccessibility, Corporal. You are aware that the reason that you still hold the rank of corporal is simply because I haven't written up your demerit yet."

"Yes, sir. I suspected as much, sir."

"I have no doubt you'll acquit yourself admirably through your continued service record, which, of course, remains impeccable."

"Thank you, sir. I really am sorry, sir. You must understand, though. It takes a lot for me to... lower myself before a man."

"Well, stand if you so choose."

"Not in that sense, sir. I mean in terms of place." She looked down. "I don't hold a very high opinion of men, you see."

"Including myself, I take it."

"I'm afraid so, sir. I know too well what men are about."

"And what is that, exactly?" I crossed my arms in anticipation. "Just, you know, so I might better know myself."

"I don't mean you, sir... I mean---"

"I certainly hope you aren't about to commence a dispute as to---"

"No, sir! What I mean is, it takes a lot for me to trust anyone who isn't female. And I do trust you, sir-- at least, the you I think you are. I want to believe that you're not like them."

"So does Marianne. You remember Petty Officer Second Class Leduc, don't you?"

"Of course, sir. We were... friends. We both really liked you. I mean, she liked you more than I did, of course. But I was at least as appreciative of what you did for her as she was."

"Thank you."

"I just don't know how to act around men, is all, sir. At least, not out of a Siralian context."

"And we can't be having that."

"No, sir."

"And-- if I may?"

"Sir?"

"A question."

"Certainly, sir."

"Did Marianne offer any... help?"

Julia looked confused. "Help, sir?"

"You know-- she did grow up on Luna. She might know a thing or two about how to handle men. Not that I'm speaking from experience."

"She did, sir, to be honest, but her ideas were... unsound."

"How so?"

"I just can't accept her idea of asserting control through displays of falsified affection."

"That sounded almost Vulcan, Corporal."

"No, but you know what I mean, sir."

"What... is the usual method of attracting a mate on Siralo, then?"

"You lose, and they mate with you."

I wasn't expecting that. "Forcibly?"

"No, sir. Well-- no. No, it's not really forcible. Not like they confine you. After all, you can always tell them that their challenge is unacceptable. You don't have to explain it to them, or even fight it out. Sometimes that's easier. You only accept the challenges of the ones you want to prove themselves. Otherwise, it's, you know... usually not good for them." She smiled ever so faintly at this. It unnerved me.

"You do know that Marianne and I are together, though, right?"

"Yes, sir!" Julia raised an open hand in protest. "I didn't mean it like that, sir! I meant that such a comment towards a woman was unacceptable, and I am so sorry."

"Apology accepted. Now, I need a mapping survey of the ridge."

"Already half-done, sir. Well, the centre portion, anyway."

"Very good. Proceed. See if you can't get---"

"Sorvik to Dixon."

"Dismissed." I let Julia find her way out. Lieutenant Sorvik was Commander Tulin's duty officer responsible for filtering orders from Battalion HQ to my attention. He was really specializing in busting my ass. "Sir."

"Long-range listening posts have detected a massive troop movement along the north-south road. We believe the Sixth Cardassian Order is moving into position to launch a full-scale assault on the town."

"What about the Jem'Hadar?"

"Intelligence reports from our tachyon field emitters indicate that the lower city is only sparsely held by Jem'Hadar soldiers. We believe they have been drawn back for use in a single, massive assault."

"Directly on this position."

"That is correct," Sorvik acknowledged.

"Well, I suppose we've got their attention. Our orders?"

"You are to hold your position until such a time as we are able to reinforce you."

"And if we can't do that, sir?"

"You are to place charges in the compound and destroy it."

"After we evacuate it?"

"That's correct."

I knew exactly what this meant, though. My regiment had just become designated the expendable unit. Sorvik was as good as signing our "regret to inform you" notes for mom and pop. I wondered who would qualify as my next of kin.

That was what got me thinking about Marianne. I mean, it wasn't like I hadn't before. I think everyone does that. They start thinking about a girl as more than just a random occurrence, and they start thinking about possible ends: sex, marriage, what the kids will look like, a little farm out of history's way. No one ever thinks of a break-up when they see someone new. No one ever thinks of divorce, or death. The Federation provides for the good, not the bad.

So it didn't even occur to me then that anything could happen to either Marianne or myself. I mean, yeah, it was a war, but I wanted to believe otherwise. Part of me felt she was already beyond its grasp, on the bottom of that lake. But the rest of me couldn't believe that. After all, war had a long reach. So I didn't rest easy-- not even slightly. Sure, it was nice to pretend, count on a miracle, but I had to think in the present tense.

Something happens to a man when he's faced with an improbable chance of survival. The things he shouldn't do become the things he might never do. After all, what do you have to lose if you're not going to live to tell?

That was the situation which faced me. I thought to myself, you know, I might never see Marianne again. Things started racing through my mind. Desertion, for instance. Marriage. Mutiny. Surrender. All of them were now as improbable as death.

That was something which I also thought about. After all, I was an officer of the line now. Like Marianne, screaming an apology, they were going to be following my every move. So if I fled, if I seemed to give up hope, I couldn't very well turn around and expect them to have any in their hearts. After all, they regarded me as one of them, and yet also a man in command. So it was a bit hard for me to do anything other than play the role.

The regiment got to work, and I pressed them as hard as I could. After all, I wanted to survive. I wanted all of them to survive. When I went around, I told them, dig that trench deeper-- get that phaser-cannon set up-- raise those shields higher-- more mines in that cluster-- I don't want anything but the best work you can give. I want you all there at my wedding, some day when the uniforms are dress, when they smell of something other than breached waste packets and sweat, when they're a solid sheen of black and silver, not a dusty mess.

Someday, I told them, I'm inviting the whole regiment to my wedding. Someday, when Jemmy and Spoony were lying side by side in their grave, when it was me and Marianne on the aisle, I wanted them all to be there. I didn't want to leave anyone on Kalandra. And I didn't intend to.

We were gonna be heroes either way. We'd make a spectacular sacrifice, or we'd make a spectacular headline. Either way, we were in the position of writing our own legend. And I wanted them all in the last words of the story, something to the tune of 'happily together to the end of their days'.

Little did I realize how much the events in those days to come would matter to me. Nor did it occur to me that no one else would even notice. After all, they tell you, you're a Starfleet officer, you're a hero. Nobody told me that the greatest heroes are the ones nobody remembers in songs, and stories. But then, what else am I doing here, right?