Theogony 1: Janissaries Page 6

  Ryan was generally not a fan of anyone that held the rank of lieutenant commander or higher. He didn’t know if that would be the case with Calvin, who had always been a pretty rational officer, but you never knew what officers would be like once they pinned on O-4.

  Calvin smiled at Ryan, “Thanks,” he said. “Post,” he ordered, dropping his salute. Ryan dropped his salute, too and went to stand behind the platoon.

  “At ease!” Calvin commanded the platoon, who relaxed from their positions of attention. “It’s good to see everyone made it here today, as I know quite a few of you had to come a long way on short notice.” He paused, taking in the entire platoon. “By a show of hands, how many of you think that you are here today because the United States is standing up a new special forces center of excellence?” About half of the Rangers raised their hands, along with all of the newcomers, except Mr. Jones. No surprise there, Calvin thought.

  Calvin moved toward the formation and lowered his voice. “That’s not actually why you are here.” There were several murmurs that ran through the platoon. Calvin heard at least two voices say, “Told you so; pay up!” He smiled. “While that is part of it, there is actually a lot more to it. Some of you are already aware that we were contacted by aliens from another planet. For those of you that weren’t, about a month ago, three aliens asked our president for help, because their communications link back to their home planet stopped working. The mission of this platoon, along with some other support personnel, is to go with the aliens out into space to find out why.”

  Another murmur, a lot louder this time, ran through the platoon as it dawned on most of them that they were about to become spacemen and women. He raised his voice to regain their attention. “I will not, however, take anyone with me that does not want to go. If there is anyone that wants to drop out now, please come forward.” No one came forward; if anything, the entire platoon swayed away from him. Calvin wasn’t surprised. He had already found that the United States’ special forces troopers were the most ‘gung ho’ soldiers he had ever met; he expected the other countries’ troops were as well.

  “In that case,” Calvin said, “welcome to the Terran Space Force. As of right now, you are the entire force, but there will be other units standing up before too long. You will notice that I said ‘Terran,’ not the ‘United States’ Space Force. The United States has opened up partnership in this force to all of your countries, and they have accepted, which is why you are here. You are now part of something that is greater than any of our countries on its own. I want to be very clear, though. This information is classified at the highest level, higher than any clearance you have ever had, and all of you will be required to sign disclosure forms when we are done talking today. Your former commanding officers don’t know anything about this; only your presidents and prime ministers do.”

  “I’m sure that all of you want to know where we are going and what we’ll be doing there. Unfortunately, I can’t tell you that, because no one knows yet. The mission details are still being put together and, even when they are finalized, there are going to be a lot of holes because we don’t know what’s happened. We might get out there to find that the aliens have a bad transmitter. The friendly aliens, the Psiclopes, think that this is unlikely, though. What they believe has happened is that a different alien race has destroyed one of their relays and is currently looking for us. Ladies and gentlemen, these creatures are bad news. Imagine ten feet tall frogs that like to eat their food, you, while you’re still alive. If we find any of them, we will terminate them with extreme prejudice. Preferably from orbit; preferably with nukes.

  I don’t know what kind of combat we will have, if any. It might be in space; it might be on land; it might be under water. We will be ready for all of these. All of us will become SEALS: Sea, Air, Land and Space. There will be two squads. Master Chief O’Leary will command the first squad, which will be primarily responsible for space and undersea operations, while Master Sergeant Aaron Smith will be in charge of the second squad, which will be the primary squad for operations on land. All of you, though, will be qualified to go anywhere and do anything.”

  There was a chorus of ‘hoo-ah’ and various other unit cheers that the men and women used to express pleasure and indicate motivation.

  Calvin looked back at his XO. “The first thing we need to do is come up with a unit cheer.”

  As he turned back to the platoon, he saw a hand go up. If he remembered correctly, it was the German Special Forces paratrooper. Calvin indicated that the soldier should speak, and when he did, his accent confirmed his nationality. “Sir, if I may, our unit uses ‘Gluck ab’ when we greet each other, which we use to mean, ‘happy landings.’ Due to the nature of our mission, which may involve making landings on hostile planets, I believe that ‘gluck ab’ might be appropriate for us.”

  Calvin could see a number of heads nodding as the men and women considered the slogan. It looked like most approved. “I agree,” Calvin said, “and I think that this also sets a good precedent. While not all of the reason, you are all still here to form a special forces Center of Excellence, or COE. That COE is expected to come up with new ways of fighting, in places no Terran has ever gone before. You all have specialized experience in a variety of backgrounds that might be needed, wherever we end up and whatever we end up doing there. As we train, I expect you to share your experience, so that we all become better. How we do things will probably end up being how the space force of the future ends up doing them, so we’ve got to get them right! You are the finest troops on this planet, and I expect us to become the finest troops in the galaxy. We will train hard, and we will be ready for anything, whether that is saving our allies or killing giant frogs. We will be victorious, because the fate of our world and our species are on the line. Are you with me?”

  The Special Forces troops, not normally given to displays of emotion or drama, roared, “YES!”

  “Gluck ab!” Calvin yelled.

  “GLUCK AB!” the platoon yelled back.

  “GLUCK AB!” the entire group chorused.

  Snoqualmie National Forest, Washington State, October 15, 2018

  “But you don’t understand, sir. The new troops are crazy!” said Master Chief O’Leary.

  Calvin looked out the window of Ryan’s cabin to where the platoon was cleaning its weapons. Ryan’s one-room cabin was located in the Snoqualmie National Forest, several miles from the nearest road. A couple of pre-fabricated Quonset huts had been brought in by helicopter so that the platoon would have a place to sleep while they trained there. It wasn’t the Hilton, but it beat sleeping on the ground in a tent. Especially once winter started setting in. Calvin had come up to the cabin to see the finish of the latest training evolution that the platoon had run, pitting the ground force squad as the offensive force trying to capture the space force’s flag. Top’s ground force had beaten Master Chief’s space force again for the third time in a row. The frustration in Ryan’s voice was easy to understand. He wasn’t used to losing.

  “C’mon, Master Chief,” said Calvin, “I know that you consider the SEALs to be the ‘best of the best,’ but this force is supposed to be the best of the best of the best. These troops are some of the best troops available on the entire planet. What do you mean, ‘they’re crazy?’”

  “I mean just that, sir; these guys are crazy!” He looked to the XO for help, but First Lieutenant Paul ‘Night’ Train didn’t say anything. Calvin had noticed that about the XO; he never spoke much without being directly asked for his input, but when asked, he always had an answer. He watched everything, and Calvin didn’t think that there was anything that escaped him. If someone was crazy, he would know.

  Getting no help from the XO, Ryan looked next to Master Sergeant Aaron ‘Top’ Smith, who did reply. “Well,” said Top, “I don’t know if they’re crazy, but there are certainly quite a few unique individuals. They definitely bring a lot of experience to the platoon in a number of new areas.”

 
“Unique? Unique? You’ve got a guy that thinks he’s a no-kidding ninja, for crying out loud!” exclaimed Master Chief. “What do you call him?”

  “I’d call Sergeant Hattori Hanzo one of the best fighters that I’ve ever served with,” said Top. “Sure, he does have some interesting ideas on who he might have been in a previous life, but he moves like the wind and is one of the most deadly people I’ve ever seen. Although he knows how to use a shuriken and is a master with a bow, I haven’t seen any ‘ninja powers,’ or anything like that.”

  “Then there’s this John Jones guy,” offered Ryan. “He looks exactly like a guy that went through SEAL training right before I did, but he swears it wasn’t him. He’s the oldest looking corporal that I have ever seen in my life.”

  “Does he do his job?” asked the XO in his deep, gruff voice.

  “Well, yes, he does,” replied Ryan. “Maybe too well. For someone with no background, where did he get those skills?”

  “The SEALs, actually, and then Delta,” answered the XO. “Now he’s a Company man; he’s part of the CIA’s Special Activities Division (SAD). If what the SEALs do is ‘black ops,’ what the SAD does is the shadow cast by the SEALs at midnight. They do some really scary shit. I hear you’re good with explosives, Master Chief; he’s probably better. I knew him from Delta,” the XO finished with a small smile, as if that explained everything.

  Ryan hadn’t heard that the XO was from Delta. If he was, that meant that he was probably the same Lieutenant Train that Ryan had heard rumors of. If even one-quarter of the rumors were true, the XO was one of the most dangerous men alive, if not the very top of the list. Some of his exploits were legendary. He was even rumored to have killed one of his own junior officers rather than follow an order that he knew would get the men under him killed. That couldn’t be true, could it? All of a sudden, looking at his smile, Ryan didn’t know. While Ryan could appreciate the desire to kill one of his own officers, as he’d had several that had really needed killing, actually doing it was beyond him, despite his general aversion to authority. It was also rumored that the XO had become an officer to ensure that his men got the leadership that they deserved. All Ryan knew was that he was getting too old for this shit.

  “Some of the new folks must be okay,” offered Calvin, bringing him back to reality. “What about that Korean girl? Sergeant Park…”

  “Sergeant Park Ji-woo is the craziest one of the bunch!” replied Ryan. “I got up one morning at sunrise, and she was just coming up from the lake where she had been swimming.”

  “What’s wrong with that?” inquired Calvin. “Swimming seems normal enough.”

  “She was butt-ass naked!” shrilled Ryan. “That water comes from melted snow and is freezing! I don’t swim in it without a wet suit, and I like cold water. She just called it ‘refreshing’ and said that her old unit did it all the time. She swam for half an hour in that water with a knife in her teeth the whole time she was swimming! What do you call that?”

  “I’m not sure that’s crazy,” answered Calvin, “although it is a bit different. How about, ‘dedicated?’ Is she good at what she does?”

  “Good? She’s great,” responded Ryan. “Have you ever heard the saying, ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned?’” Everyone’s heads nodded. “Well, she must have had some major-league scorning because she is one of the most ferocious warriors out there. She even scares me, sometimes.” He considered a couple of seconds. “What did we tell the nations when we asked for their special forces troopers? How did we advertise this?”

  “The cover story was that we were starting a new special forces center of excellence and that we wanted experienced troops that had an open mind about special forces’ training and employment,” answered Calvin. “If nothing else, it sounds like there are a lot of free thinkers in the platoon.”

  “I think they’re crazy,” said Ryan.

  Calvin sighed and looked at a vacant corner of the cabin. “You know I hate it when you do that, right Steropes?” He didn’t know how he knew the alien was there, he just did. “Since you’re here, what do you think of the platoon?”

  “If you are documenting a culture’s actions,” said the alien, dropping his shield so that everyone could see him, “it is important to do so unobserved. That way, the subjects that you are studying do things naturally, and you don’t affect the process that you are studying. Just because you know I’m here, doesn’t mean the others do.”

  “Well, I know you’re here, and I hate it when you watch me invisibly,” said Calvin. “If you’re going to follow me around, at least have the courtesy to be visible, and I’ll just ignore you.” He waited for Steropes to nod his giant head in acknowledgement. Calvin didn’t know if he would actually do it, but at least it was worth a shot. “I’m curious about what you think, as we are putting together a force that may, some day, be called upon to save your life. What do you think of the new additions to the platoon?”

  “If I had to answer that question,” Steropes answered, “I would have to say that I think they are absolutely perfect for this mission. They are probably the best individuals that their countries have to offer. You did an excellent job recruiting them.”

  “What about the one that thinks he’s a reborn ninja?” asked Ryan, frustration still heavy in his voice.

  “Who says he’s not?” countered Steropes. As Ryan spluttered an answer, Steropes went invisible and left.

  “Is he always like that?” asked the XO.

  “Pretty much,” replied Calvin as the two senior enlisted men nodded their heads. “I’m still not sure what game they are playing with us. I know one thing for sure, though. They’re not telling us everything.”

  What do you think they’re not telling us?” inquired Night.

  “I don’t know,” answered Calvin, “and that’s what scares me.”

  Joint Base Lewis-McChord, Tacoma, WA, October 16, 2018

  As Calvin entered the room, he looked around the conference table at the 15 officers gathered around it. Like the enlisted soldiers, the new aviators had clustered with people they knew, people that had the same accent or at least spoke the same language. A sense of nervous excitement infused the room. Seeing him enter, his other new executive officer, Major Robert ‘Bullseye’ Pierce, called “Attention on deck!” and the officers all bounced up to stand at attention.

  “At ease,” Calvin said. “Please be seated.” All of the officers sat. It was an interesting group. Only eight of the 16 officers were Americans, with four from the Air Force and four from the navy. He recognized one of the navy guys, Lieutenant Carl ‘Guns’ Simpson from VFA-137. Guns was in Calvin’s old air wing and had more air-to-air kills than anyone else currently still flying, having shot down two Chinese stealth fighters during the recent war. In addition to the four U.S. pilots, two from each service, there were two Canadian pilots, a German and a Brit.

  The weapons systems officers were similarly diverse. In addition to the four U.S. airmen, again, two from each service, there were two Japanese officers, a Korean and an Australian. These officers came not only from fighter aircraft, but one of the Japanese officers also came from an E-2 squadron, giving them command and control expertise, as well.

  “I’m glad all of you could make it here today,” started Calvin. “Is there anyone that hasn’t signed the nondisclosure agreement?” Looking around, he didn’t see any hands.

  “Good,” he said, “because everything that you see and do from here on is going to be classified well beyond anything you have ever been associated with before.” He looked around the room and saw he had everyone’s attention. “You are not here because we are starting a center of excellence to develop better fighter tactics. That was just a cover story, although we will maintain it while we are flying here. What we are really doing is preparing to go on a mission to space. The U.S. government has been contacted by aliens from another planet, and we will be flying space fighters on a mission to return the aliens to their home planet.”


  The response was underwhelming. Several of the officers looked somewhat excited, but most of the faces were skeptical and disbelieving. Calvin smiled, knowing from personal experience that aviators were a cynical breed. The German officer, Luftwaffe Oberleutnant Hans Hohenstaufen, finally broke into laughter. “Hahaha, that is a good one,” he roared. “A joke that can make a German laugh is a great way to start a meeting!”

  “I’m sorry, but that is not a joke,” replied Calvin. “You have been selected to be members of Space Fighter Squadron One of the Terran Space Force. Steropes?”

  Steropes blinked into being at his side, and the room was instantly silent. “Let me introduce Steropes,” Calvin said, “who is one of the aliens that we will be escorting home. The spaceship that we will be using has six, two-seat fighters. We will man them for the journey.”

  Shock and amazement now filled the officers’ faces. If nothing else, he certainly had their attention. Calvin continued, “I will not, however, take anyone that does not want to go with me. If there is anyone that wants to drop out now, please raise your hand.” No one raised their hand. Calvin wasn’t sure that they entirely believed him yet, but no one wanted to back out on the chance to fly space fighters, even if they weren’t entirely sure it was true.

  “In that case,” Calvin said, “I really do want to welcome you to Space Fighter Squadron One of the Terran Space Force. You will have hopefully noticed that I said ‘Terran,’ not the ‘United States’ Space Force. The United States has opened up partnership in this force to all of your countries, and they have accepted. All of this information is classified at the highest level, code word ‘Olympos,’ which is why you signed the nondisclosure form.”