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"Fog of War"
Prologue Chapter 2: In the Sharpedo Tank
Date: Tuesday, July 6th, 2014
Location: Fallarbor Town Military Base, Hanger 3
Time: 10:13:09…10…11…
James Martin stood at attention, staring straight forward as he faced the guts of Hanger number three, his eyes telling the story of a soldier zoned out from exhaustion. He gazed through the back of 2nd Lieutenant Keitells' black covered head, and Staff Sergeant Jones ahead of him. To his left was his entire team, with Brett being immediately next to him all the way down to Jefferson on the end. He couldn't really tell 'who-was-who' since they all were still wearing their full combat gear, which covered them in pitch-black Nomex, Kevlar and impact-gel body armor from head to toe, except for roughly a two by four inch opening around the eyes. All of them carried standard issue P90 compact assault rifle's on sling's hanging from their shoulders, and if James looked hard enough he could pick out the various knives and other weapons that were strapped to every man in the Platoon. Now, though, wasn't the time for that. They now all stood in formation at attention, facing the backs of Lieutenant Perse and First Sergeant Yeally, everyone awaiting orders from higher up. Indeed, since the initial debrief earlier that morning, they had all been ordered to stand at attention and await further orders...with a pending investigation into the fiasco that was supposed to be the graduating training mission for the 3rd Platoon of Charlie Company, 56th Special Forces and Reconnaissance Battalion of the Hoenn Air Force.
Yeah, try saying that three times fast.
Every single man and pokémon stood accounted for in their platoon after the debriefing, with all of the platoon's pokémon carted off to the base's Pokémon Center. Save perhaps the loss of hearing for seven of the members – James himself and all of team four – there were no casualties to be heard of for any of the 3rd Platoon's 30 members.
"WHO THE FUCK GAVE YOU NUT-FUCKERS THE ORDERS TO BLOW UP THE GODDAMN TARGET?"
...welp, so much for no casualties. James thought to himself as he felt his still sensitive ears ring despite the source of the noise coming from across the hanger.
Command Sergeant Major Whitley stormed across the deck of the empty hanger, looking just as imposing as his pure-muscle six-foot-five build would suggest. He was dressed in his full Class A gear save his flat-hat, which was almost forgotten considering how red his face was it almost matched the deep maroon of his uniform.
"I SAY AGAIN, WHO THE FUCK THOUGHT IT WAS A GOOD IDEA TO DROP A GRENADE OR WHATEVERTHEHELL YOU DID TO BLOW UP THE GODDAMN ARMORY ON THAT BASE?"
Silence spanned the entire platoon, except of course the echo of the Sergeant's voice. Well I didn't think it was a GOOD idea…James thought quietly to himself, hoping to stave off execution for just a second longer.
"So, nobody knows then." The CSM said critical voice. He slowly began pacing in front of the platoon, making sure to stop in front of each and every team member, even pacing between the rows just so he could give everyone the same death glare. James was pretty sure even then that the Sergeant was going to stop right in front of him, but he still held out hope as he made the precarious turn down his row.
Jefferson….Mark…..Conner….Brett and…
"Well well well….what do we have here?"
Bingo! I win!
Whitley performed a perfect quarter-turn to face directly in front of James.
"So, Sergeant Martin, is it?"
"Yes Sergeant Major." James responded automatically.
"It says here in your report that you left your team to help rescue another team right as the explosion happened. Is that correct?"
"Yes Sergeant Major."
"So would it be suffice to say that you were in the area when said explosion went off. Is that correct?"
"Yes Sergeant Major."
The Command Sergeant Major bent down slightly, so that he was eye-level with James. "Now, I'm going to ask you a very important question Sergeant, and you better think about it very carefully before you answer, got that?" He whispered, practically breathing venom into the air.
"Yes, Sergeant Major." James replied carefully.
"Good." Whitley smiled, a carnivorous smile suitable for a Sharpedo. "Now, did you by chance set off that explosion?"
James paused a full second before answering. "No Sergeant Major."
The Master Sergeant frowned. "Ah, well-"
"I ordered my pokémon to, Sergeant Major."
A ladybug walking on a windowsill could be heard from 200 feet away.
James watched as the CSM's face turned from a white, to a pink, then red, cranberry, and finally a beautiful maroonish-purple; he could've swore the Sergeant's face was a natural kaleidoscope.
"You….did…WHAT?"
James instinctively squinted and flinched, but otherwise tried to hold his ground.
"YOU LITTLE MOTHERFUCKER! DO YOU REALIZE WHAT YOU'VE DONE? DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHATSOEVER AS TO WHAT YOU DID!"
Despite the ringing in his ears and fearing for his life, James had to answer truthfully.
"No Sergeant Major!"
…if only to pray the CSM had a heart attack before he was eviscerated.
"I'LL TELL YOU WHAT YOU DID! YOU AND YOUR FUCKING POKÉMON KILLED YOUR OWN DAMN SOLDIERS! YOUR FUCKING BROTHERS-IN-ARMS! TWENTY SOLDIERS DEAD! DEAD! AT LEAST FORTY MORE INJURED, SOME OF THEM PROBABLY PERMANENTLY! AT LEAST A HUNDRED ARE COMPLAINING OF TROUBLE HEARING, AND MORE WILL LIKELY COME FORWARD LATER ON! AND NOT TO MENTION WHOEVER THE FUCK USED THEIR DAMN FLYGON NEAR A MEDICAL FACILITY-"
"-That was me too Sergeant Major!"
He shouldn't have done it. He knew he shouldn't have done it. But for some reason the thought of his thirty soldiers, of his brothers-in-arms, his teammates, his platoon mates, facing the same fate at the hands of fellow Hoenn soldiers who had been authorized to use live ammunition in a training scenario…
…by the end of it, his blood was boiling to.
The Command Sergeant Major froze mid-rant. For half a second, he thought Whitley had been broken.
the strong punch to the gut that sent him to the floor, combined with the kick to his side, told him otherwise.
"You little piece of shit," he said, watching James struggle to fill his lungs with oxygen.
Whitley kicked him again, just as hard, sending James rolling across the floor out of formation.
"You know what you are? You're trash." Whitley began, crouching down to whisper in a sing-song belittling manner to the groaning James. "No, scratch that, you're worse than trash. You're the scum of the earth. You're no more deserving to walk this God-blessed planet than Satan himself. What I want to know though is why. Why oh why did you do it Sergeant Martin, why the fuck did you do it?"
Sergeant Whitley grabbed James by the top of the mask, yanking him to his feet against his will. James stumbled on the spot, standing up as much as possible before answering.
"To protect my platoon from harm, Sergeant Major!"
Sergeant Whitley started to respond, but James continued.
"Sergeant Major, if you have read my report then you would have come to the same conclusion after learning that the 'enemy' was using LIVE FUCKING AMMUNITION IN A FUCKING TRAINING MISSION, SIR!"
The CSM got real close, so close that James thought their noses would rub. So close that if he tried, James could probably kiss the Master Sergeant on the lips befo-
-the hell? Damn, that must've been a hard kick. James did his best to shake those disturbing images from his head.
"Now you listen to me Sergeant, just-"
"-That's enough, Command Sergeant Major."
The formation snapped a quick salute, while the Master Sergeant whirled in place to do the same.
Coronel Jeffrey Gaves was the man in charge of the entire 56th Battalion. As the newest formed "Battalion" in the Hoenn Armed Forces and the only Special Operations Ground Team in the Air Force, Coronel Gaves saw the Battalion as nothing short of his pride and joy; his baby girl who he found out just yesterday was bringing her first guy home to meet him.
In short, nothing happened to the 56th without his say-so.
The Coronel strode at a lax pace across the open hanger, taking what seemed like forever to cross the space between the swinging door he came from to stand before the platoon. Upon reaching the formation, he stood at attention as well, his eyes gazing over the group before finally reaching James and the Master Sergeant. If James paid attention more to the Coronel than to his aching ribs at that point, he would've seen the tired look in the Coronel's eyes, noticed that the silver Raquaza on his cap was tilted to the side, and perhaps even seen that at least one of his shirt buttons was undone. Indeed, the Coronel looked every bit as tired and worn out as he felt, but to James, at least at that moment, he stood there as his only, if temporary, saving grace.
"All of you are dismissed. There will be an incident debriefing over the course of actions that occurred during the mission at 0900 tomorrow. That is all." He said simply, nodding to Lt. Perse who began giving the orders for dismissal and cleanup.
As he gave the orders, Coronel Gaves walked past CSM Whitley and James, pausing only to say, "you two follow me," before continuing to walk off onto the tarmac.
James looked at the Master Sergeant who glared right back, before falling in line behind the Coronel.
As James walked in step behind the Coronel, shoulder to…just above the elbow with CSM Whitley, he took a moment to ponder what kind of trouble he was in. Oh, he was in trouble; that was for sure. No matter how he tried to think his way out of it, the end results were all the same.
Chopping block, chopping block, I'm so getting the chopping block…let's see, deliberately setting off a chain of events that killed, if I heard correctly, 32 fellow Hoenn soldiers and injuring dozens more…let's see, that's good enough for a trip to the firing squad…disobeying mission parameters meant to keep everyone safe…dishonorable discharge there…neglecting the chain of command…hmmm….discharge at best, firing squad at worst…let's see, what else is there?...Inappropriate use of pokémon during a training mission...that could be-
Click.
The sound of a door lock giving way jarred James out of his thought pattern. He was glad for it really, he was starting to get depressed. The Coronel entered the room first, which seemed to James to be a small conference room. The Command Sergeant Major stormed past James, not even trying to hide a very obvious shoulder bump in the process. James reluctantly followed in, just managing to get past the door's swing before the Coronel shut the door behind him.
"Coronel, this man directly violated the-"
"-I know what he did Sergeant Whitley, I read the reports." The Coronel said, holding up a hand to silence him. The CSM was having none of that if he could help it.
"But Sir, he is directly responsible for the death and dismemberment of-"
"-and he will face a Military Board which will review his actions."
"Sir, this man is a traitor! He openly admit-"
"That's enough, Command Sergeant Major." Coronel Gaves said with finality, which finally silenced Whitley, if only for the moment.
"Listen to me. A Military Board will review everything that has happened in this incident. The men of your Battalion who died and were injured is a tragedy to be sure, but everything must be taken into account of. Especially if any evidence turns up of one side violating the rules of the engagement by equipping their battalion with live ammunition instead of the plastic training rounds. Not to mention any evidence suggesting the defending soldiers were given additional information that perhaps violated the conditions of the war games. Have I made myself clear?" The Coronel was so crisp in his finish that James swore he saw the CSM break out in sweat.
"Yes….sir." Whitley replied.
"Good. Sergeant Major, you are dismissed. There is something I need to discuss with Sergeant Martin here." James snapped to attention at the acknowledgement of his name, unaware he had almost been leaning on the wall behind him.
Coronel Gaves opened the door for the CSM, who promptly exited but not before giving James one last hard glare. Despite not meeting his eyes, James still felt the pure killing intent wash over him like a tsunami. A close of the door brought him back to reality, for what was surely way too many times that day he zoned out.
Coronel Gaves held his hand on the door handle for a couple seconds, as if considering whether or not to open it again, before leaving it shut and turning to the table. The oval hardwood table had enough seats for a dozen or so people, but for now it was just James and Gaves. The only other object in the room that James could see was a phone that was plugged in and on a small table behind the Coronel.
"At ease Sergeant." Coronel Gaves said, looking over James' perfect imitation of a statue.
James fell into an 'at ease' stance, but nevertheless remained as statue as ever.
The Coronel sighed before taking a seat across from him at the table. "If you keep on standing like that, you'll pass out in five minutes. Take a seat, and remove your mask and headgear for me if you would please."
Still unsure but unwilling to disobey an "order", James did as he was told, taking a seat directly across from the Coronel at the narrow end of the table. James had almost forgotten about his headgear, he spent so much time in it in training it felt like a second skin to him. He wasn't really sure what the stuff was made of, it was think and molded in some parts and thin and pliable in others. Someone once told him that it had some special type of Kevlar and Nomex combination in it, but whenever he asked somebody who knew they'd tell him to "just shut up and wear it". The setup was all black, and encompassed his entire head save a small space from his eyebrows to the bridge of his nose that was left open so he could have a full range of vision. The material form-fitted his entire face, and was thin enough that he could breathe without difficulty even after a 10-mile run where he needed it to be. Below his chin the material got a little tougher, but by no means limited his natural motions. Finally the rest of the material was tucked down under the rest of his combat suit, forming a cover out to the top of his shoulders and down to his chest; and it was a pain to get off without stripping down completely.
When he finally was able to remove the offending article of clothing, he turned to see a young Lieutenant at the door, who handed the Coronel a briefcase before exiting.
Coronel Gaves took the briefcase, setting it on the table in front of him before taking his seat. Upon opening it, papers and folders practically poured out of it, making James wonder how it was closed in the first place. Gaves halfheartedly tossed several folders on the table, and stuffed the rest back in before slamming the case shut. He then turned and sat the briefcase behind him, and after a brief pause, removed the phone cord from the wall.
James took this as a bad sign.
The Coronel sighed before turning back to the papers in front of him, as if questioning whether he wanted to open any of them at all.
"Well we got ourselves quite a pickle here, Sergeant Martin. Quite a pickle…" He said, finally finding the folder he wanted and opening it, shaking his head as he did so.
The Coronel peered over the contents briefly before taking off his Maroon dress cap, and setting it on the side before running his hand through his hair a few times. James idly wondered how many new gray hairs were there from just this morning alone. The Coronel finally closed the folder and his eyes, turning his head to the sky as if asking why he had to do this.
James wondered too.
"Welp, here's the deal James," He said, not breaking his form while doing so. "Everything said, seen and heard in this room is strictly off the record. Anything said outside of this room is not. Period."
The Coronel finally opened his eyes again, considering the fly buzzing near the florescent lighting before lowering them to lock eyes with James. "Are we clear?"
"….uh…yes, sir?" James responded hesitantly.
The Coronel nodded, not breaking eye contact the whole time.
"Good. Let's begin then." The first folder slid over to rest in front of James, a big "CONFIDENTIAL" stamp over the cover of the folder.
"Sir? This is-"
"-For your eyes only, Sergeant." Gaves responded, adding a dismissing wave of the hand.
James hesitated for a moment, before opening the folder and pouring over the contents. The folder depicted a detailed listing of the events that had occurred at the base from both sides. Included were patrol reports, guard duties, and listings of troop positions. James noted with key interest that two guards outside the medical tents were listed as "KIA" at 0013, which was just after James and his team had made their way through. Those bastards cheated. He thought, as there was no way James could see them being found where they were in just perhaps five minutes after being killed.
In hindsight, looking at his watch and writing down the time would've been a good idea at that point last night.
James scanned over the rest, finding that by 0035 the 1st and 2nd teams had been spotted and were engaged, but according to the base troops, "oddly already retreating". At 0054 the explosion was reported, and the list of casualties was listed below. Then at 0102 there was the incident where James faked surrender in front of the Medical Tent while releasing his Flygon. There was no mention of the entire fourth team being in the area – James took some pleasure in that – just him hitting the deck while Yena created her favorite flavor of mayhem, literally. After that, the rest of the document summarized the cleanup operations and final casualty total, as well as all the ordinance expended and equipment lost. James' grip tightened when he read that indeed the enemy troops DID have live ammunition.
After finishing the document, James closed it and set it back down on the table in front of him with unusual care, as if the preservation of that document was the only thing that would keep him from facing a firing squad in the near future.
James stared at it for a moment, before looking up to the Coronel, who was eyeing his reaction carefully.
James decided to choose his next question carefully. "Sir…what does this all mean?"
It was an honest question, and James hoped that the Coronel would pick up on the words he left out.
Gaves leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table and interlacing his hands in front of him.
"Well, it means several things. First and foremost, you are no longer a team leader in the 3rd Platoon, or a member of Charlie Company in the 56th Battalion. Your position will likely be filled by Specialist Brett Clarson, who's due for a promotion due to his heroic rescue of the first and second teams. Second, you'll be immediately escorted out of here to undergo a physical evaluation, along with the rest of team four. Finally, you will stand before a Military Board and explain your actions, where you will be found 'Not Guilty' to some degree on all counts held against you. After that, the ball will be held in your court."
James couldn't process what he had just heard.
"…what?"
The Coronel laughed heartily before responding. "Oh I don't doubt Command Sergeant Major Whitley will be pissed, but you'll be let off the hook for this one, considering all that occurred and given your very detailed report." He sighed and visibly slumped in his chair before continuing. "And in light of several rules possibly being violated during the training exercise, accidental or otherwise, the overall end result should be greatly in your favor."
"…and what about the Command Sergeant Major, sir?" James asked. He knew the Command Sergeant Major was the one in charge of the defending forces at the base in the absence of the Battalion's Chief of Staff. He had also heard rumor before the mission that for some unknown reason the Sergeant didn't have the highest view of the newly-formed 56th, especially since their combat tactics were far from "conventional".
The Coronel paused a great many seconds before answering.
"The Command Sergeant Major will also face a Military Review Board, where he may or may not receive a reprimand for certain actions that perhaps may or may not have taken place under his direct or indirect leadership, consequently resulting in the inevitable turn of events that you have seen before you." He summarized.
It took James almost five minutes to process what that meant.
"It'll be a cover-up, sir."
The Coronel grinned, though sadly. "I can neither confirm nor deny that statement, son."
James nodded in understanding. "Then what about the soldiers who died? The one's who were disabled and injured?"
"They will receive full honors and honorary military discharges, accordingly."
"…so, what now?"
The Coronel passed James another folder, this one much thinner in content then the last. James didn't hesitate this time to open it and review its contents.
"For your valor and dedication to your comrades, I have seen fit to, ah, 'pull some strings' if you will. You will no longer be a member of Charlie Company as stated before, but instead you will be transferred to Delta Company, where you will be promoted to the rank of First Sergeant pending approval of your promotion to 2nd Lieutenant and then Lieutenant. You'll be given temporary command of the 2nd Platoon of Delta Company, and after you pass through the Leadership Training School's program immediately assume full command of said Platoon." The Coronel said, his smile growing larger the longer he talked.
James didn't want to think of just how many strings the Coronel had to pull to make that work. He was sure that his face showed it.
"Sir I-"
"Don't worry about it, and don't mention it. To anyone. This is top secret information here, officially you'll be dishonorably discharged before being reinstated pending a Board of Review of your actions, which will never officially exist. If, however, you talk about this, you will be dishonorably discharged and that'll be the end of it. Your bunk and personal gear has already been packed, and you are not to talk to anyone about this incident, or more specifically this talk, ever again. Have I made myself clear?"
"Crystal, sir."
The Coronel stood, straightening out his uniform before offering a handshake which James accepted.
"Then good luck Lieutenant, we're going to need a lot more people as dedicated to their men, and to their country, as you out there." The Coronel gave him a crisp salute, which James returned before stepping back from his chair.
The Coronel did the same, grabbing the briefcase and stuffing the folders back in before closing it again and making his way to the door.
"Sir…" The Coronel froze, hand on the doorknob.
"What do you mean by 'out there'?"
"Unfortunately, son, I think you'll find out soon enough." Came the solemn reply, before the door swung open and Lieutenant James Martin was left to ponder the meaning himself.
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