Max Hayes: Antonio Brooke

The Bericold had just passed its halfway point to Lyria. I had been hired to give some professional assistance to the Royal Marines. The Marines had realized it had a shortage in experienced combat leaders. With an invasion on the horizon and the Horstof incident fresh in mind they had decided to contract some outside consultants to aid the units most in need. I guess there were a maybe few hundred others like me on the Bericold alone. On the entire complement of Marines stationed on the ship it was a negligible amount, but every little bit helped. What didn’t help was the fact most of us were only added to the units the moment the ship left Karinth. On board the ship there was virtually no place tot train except for some firing ranges and a couple of gyms to practice some basic manoeuvres. Luckily basic manoeuvres and firing a weapon were both skills in which most Marines in my unit could improve much, so all the training they could receive in these two weeks was really worthwhile.
I wasn’t worried about the coming battle. Once on the planet Lyria the Marines would enjoy a great numerical and technological superiority combined with almost complete air superiority. With three hour sessions on the firing range each day, marksman skill of my unit had increased dramatically in the last week. Basic combat drills were coming along nicely too.
Their own commander was very sceptical of doing any physical training because, according to them, the troops needed to save their energy for the coming battle. I had just tried to explain captain Mirtel the human body doesn’t work like that, after he found out I had the troops do some laps around the ship’s main flight deck.
“We sure appreciate what you are trying to do here, but we can’t have these men exhausted with the invasion coming up in less then a week,” captain Mirtel said, before he continued on a friendlier and softer tone, “Let’s face it Max; two weeks of training isn’t going to make a hell of a difference and many commanders on top feel we’re already running them to hard.”
“Right,” I said disappointed.
“I’m glad you agree. Remember you’re only here to help bring this invasion to an agreeable end. The current state of the troops is not your responsibility.”
This probably accurately reflected his own position concerning the current state the troops. However in my mind the current state of the troops and bringing the invasion to an agreeable end were closely related issues, and, again in my mind, someone who thought otherwise was probably wrong.
“A little jogging isn’t going to exhaust them and I’ll give them three days to recuperate before we arrive at Lyria.”
“That’s your responsibility,” captain Mirtel said relaxed. “There is however another issue which needs my attention.”
“What is it?”
“Moral.”
“Moral is high, captain.” It was one thing which was actually pretty good.

“Of course it is!” Captain Mirtel said almost insulted, “but we can’t say the same for the Navy. Something is brewing there.”
“That doesn’t seem like your responsibility.”
“It ís my responsibility. It is all our responsibility to make sure everyone is one hundred percent behind this operation. Without it we’re lost. That’s why I need to address the company myself this afternoon.”
“Very well. The company is going to practice some more combat drills in forty six eighty nine. Maybe you can address them in advance of the training,” I suggested.
“What time does this training start?”
“Fourteen hundred hours.”
“If you would prepare them, I will address the men at two.”
“Very well.”
“Dismissed, sergeant.”
I left without sir-ing. They might have given me a sergeant rank, but it didn’t mean I suddenly was part of this command structure. There was nothing they were going to do about it.
I still had plenty of time before the training. I’m sure the captain only wanted me to line up the troops for him and wouldn’t expect me to give a stirring speech about the moral in the Navy. I didn’t know what was up with the Navy, but I assumed it was some inter service rivalry.


As two o’clock neared more of the men from Fox one three six started dripping into the gym. I had ordered everyone to attend in full combat gear to make it as realistic as possible. With only seventy one marines the company was under strength. There was only on other officer to lead a platoon, so we had already agreed I would lead the second platoon, while Mirtel would lead third himself.
“Marines! Fall in line. Now!” I shouted. It was almost two o’clock.
The men stepped in formation. From the looks of it everyone was here.
“Everybody listen up!” “Before we start today’s training, the captain will address the company.” “Until the captain is here you will wait here and shut up! Understood?!”
“Sergeant, yes, sergeant.”
Several minutes passed by before the captain and lieutenant Hood, the other officer in the company, entered the gym.
“Company attention!”
The marines saluted as the captain walked to a place in front of the formation.
“At ease, marines.”

Mirtel started, “The operation you will now partake in might very well be the most important operation of our generation. I know many of you don’t see it this way. I know many of you believe the Lyria defence force will be no match for us, that we will conquer Lyria within a week. Now; I couldn’t agree more.”
There was laughter from the marines.
“This doesn’t mean,” the captain continued suddenly serious, “this moment won’t be one of the most important moments in our history. This moment, this operation, in which you lucky few will take part, will be a turning point for our country. Our victory over Lyria will tell humanity how we do things and how we wíll do things. This moment echoes a new era of power, an era in which we will take our righteous place in the universe!”

“With this operation we will send a message to all corners of the galaxy: We will fight for what we stand for and we will stand united. It is this unity, which makes us an unstoppable force. It is this unity, which will give us Lyria in a week.”
“But without this unity we are nothing,” captain Mirtel continued more ominously, “without this unity we are vulnerable, and this is why I stand before you now. For some time we have known there are people among us who do not care about our country. They might say they do, but they don’t; not truly. They believe in things which we cannot rhyme with what we have all been taught, what we all stand for; the values which enshrine the very best of our people, which have been carried on from generation to generation. You might ask yourself; what has brought these people, who have been raised in the same families we’ve been raised in, who have studied in the same schools and the same teachers which also taught us, so far astray. The answer is simple. These men have been indoctrinated. Because that’s what it is; it’s indoctrination!”
“Instead of looking inside how best to motivate the men and women who defend our country, they looked outside. They looked outside to what others were doing and thought we should do the same. They thought we should take the philosophies of other militaries, whole countries, to best defend our own, but you can’t. You shouldn’t want to. Because in the end, these ideas will infest those indoctrinated with them and they will in turn infest other people, and this is what we are facing right now. You all know what I am talking about. You all do. So I don’t understand why I shouldn’t be allowed to say it out loud. Do you think I shouldn’t?”
“Sir, no, sir!” The marines yelled fierce.
“The supposedly royal Navy has corrupted itself. They have indoctrinated our brothers and sisters with a subversive ideology. An ideology which assumes that without struggle you come out on top. They basically tell them: what you feel is best, is what you should do. Is anyone surprised they are deserting now they need to defend their country, after we fill their heads with these ideas? Of course not! Some of them have even chosen to fight on the side of the enemy. They are now more willing to fight for the broken societies we are trying to uplift than for their own families. They are willing to fight us. On the surface their believes might have looked innocent, endearing or even attractive at the time; something which is more likely to be pitied than feared, but make now mistake; they would break our unity if they could. The same unity which the crown has always protected and which sets our country apart from all the rest is now being threatened by the people who are supposed to defend it, but here’s a newsflash: We won’t stand for it. We won’t allow our own to be corrupted from the inside!” “The following orders are straight from command. If you hear or see anyone not showing this country, the queen, or this historic endeavour the respect it deserves, you report them, immediately. Is that understood?!”

“Sir, yes, sir!”
“And with the same dedication to unity you use to report them, you will also report those who fail to do so for whatever reason. Is this understood?”
“Sir, yes, sir.”
“But let me make one thing perfectly clear. These men and women are still our own and they deserve our help not our vengeance. In helping them we must be firm, but to put it bluntly: We won’t beat this thing by beating up them.”
There was some repressed laughter all around.
“Is this also understood?”
“Sir, yes, sir.”
“In addition, some of the Navy personnel will be reassigned instead to some of our units in the coming days. If it happens to be this unit, you will threat them with respect. Is this understood?”
“Sir, yes, sir!”
“That’ll be all for now, marines. Continue to serve our country and our queen with the same dedication we have always shown.”
Captain Mirtel saluted and the troops saluted back.

“Sergeant, continue with your training,” captain Mirtel said as he turned to me.
I nodded after which he turned around and paced off towards the door. All this time I had been standing to the side of the formation. It was a very heavy speech to be sure. I didn’t follow what it was all about, but to be honest I didn’t like sound of it. It was hard to see this any other way than some pretty serious repression.
“Okay Marines, listen up! Today we are going to go through the same set of combat drills we went through yesterday. Form up in squads!”


The training went well. Many of the men were already getting pretty bored with it, which was good, as long as you could keep them sharp despite the repetition. After the training was over I headed back to the officers quarters to talk to Mirtel. He appreciated to receive a report on every day’s training and although there was nothing to report which we didn’t already discuss this afternoon, I saw no reason to break the routine.
We had been getting along pretty well for the time I’d been here. He enjoyed telling war stories and so did I. Because of this these training reports tended to last well into the evening and we often ended up going to the mess together; Hood had told me, on day one, that it had been decided, I was to eat in the ship’s officer’s mess. According to him this was more suitable in my position as an outside consultant. This same policy seemed to extend to all hired help with a female gender.

As I barged into Mirtel’s office without knocking, there was another man sitting across from him at his desk.
“Sergeant, how nice of you to come in,” captain Mirtel said. “Let me introduce you to private first class Antonio Brook.”
A young man, early twenties, turned around on his seat.
“Private Brook, I’m sergeant Max.”
“Sergeant,” the boy said.
“Private brook has served with the Navy for three years as a soldier,” captain Mirtel explained, “he has served on two combat tours on Custodian and Summersalt. Is that correct?” captain Mirtel asked the boy.

“It is, sir,” Brook confirmed.
Captain Mirtel somehow seemed to be taken slightly aback by his response. “However, right now, the queen has decided to reassign him to the Royal Marines.”
“I see,” I said casual.
“He’s been assigned to my company. Could you see to it, he gets a bunk and gets familiar with the rest of the guys.”
“But of course,” I said, “Captain.”
“Sergeant Háyes is in command of second platoon,” captain Mirtel now explained to Brook, “maybe it’s best you’ll be assigned to her platoon for the time being.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’ll hope you make your country and the queen proud during your stay with us, son.”
“I’ll do my best, sir,” the boy said firm.
“Sergeant, please report back to me after you get the private settled in.”
“Very well,” I said, while looking at the boy, “Follow me private.”
The private stepped into the hallway carrying a huge duffel bag and closed the door behind him.
“Ready?” I asked.
“Ready, sergeant,” he answered aloof.
“Let’s get you to your bunk. Follow me.”
We started walking towards rooms assigned to the company. So this was one of the men threatening the unity of captain Mirtel’s beloved country.
“Antonio was it, right?”
“It is, sergeant.”
“What made you decide to join the Marines?”
“I didn’t, I was drafted after being discharged from the Navy yesterday.”
“What did you do, Antonio? If I may ask, of course.”
“I don’t know. Nobody told me.”
“Right.”
“It had something to do with betraying my country, or so they said.”
“Who are they?”
“My commander, but they didn’t know anything either. They just told me what was told them, and now I’m here.”
“That’s right.” I confirmed. “You’re a soldier?”
Being a soldier had a different meaning in the Royal Navy, it was used to distinguished capable ground troops from other Navy personnel. Some marine officers had once attempted to explain to me the different ranks system the Navy uses.
“I am.”
“Ever been in combat?” I asked.
“Yes, on Summersalt. Sergeant.” I had no idea what Summersalt was.
“How old are you?”
“Twenty one.”
From what I had gathered, Navy ground troops were graded higher then the Marines, and this guy supposedly had some combat experience as well. I could imagine a worse new guy. I just hoped the marines would think the same; which, of course, they wouldn’t.