First Contact

General Nodra'ak (4 Stars), Commander, V Corps (Mixed Metal), liked to think of himself as a fair being and a good officer. He had attended East Point as a young Treana'ad and graduated 9th in his class. He had taken part in ground actions for nearly a hundred years, starting as a Cav Scout officer and climbing his way to his current exalted rank, not over the bodies of his men, but by lifting them up and encouraging to perform beyond even their own expectations. He had always tried to be a fair and even being, considerate of the lower ranks and respectful to his superiors and approachable to his peers. He had tried to avoid the traps of ego and self-promotion, attempted to avoid letting his own emotions get in the way of what needed to be done, strove to make sure he did what was right for the services rather than his own career.

He knew he had not always succeeded. There was the unfortunate duel twenty years back over a slight of honor. There was the time he had viewed being put in charge of a Rapid Ready Support Battalion as a punishment rather than a way to understand the military better. There was another unfortunate memory where he had left his rifle on a briefing table and then was ambushed on his way back and had been forced to resort to his sidearms and bladearms.

General Nodra'ak knew he wasn't perfect. Knew that all beings made mistakes.

Even the legendary General Trucker, which he had the honor of commanding, had once driven his tank into a river one night and as a young tanker had gone to kick the autoloader loose and had it slam shut on his foot, severing it, during gunnery practice.

But what had happened during the Telkan landings was inappropriate.

Nodra'ak picked up his pack of cigarettes, tamping them on his bladearm, and slowly unwrapped the clear plastic from the top. He immersed himself in the ritual, tapping the rune for accept when the legend "You know this is bad for you, do you agree to not whine at us when your lungs turn to liquid shit?" popped up above the top. He opened the pack, undoing the tinfoil and pulling the front flap of it out.

The holotank in front of him was playing out the landings. Specifically, Telkan-1.

He dropped the plastic and the tinfoil into the waste disposal.

His dropships had come under heavy ground fire immediately. Energized plasma and heavy lasers being fired by plants. Bioplasma and biolasers weren't unknown, they had shown up on more than one world. His own species had a caste that could be specifically grown to eject plasma from the abdomens powerful enough to hit ships in near orbit. His ships were pounded as they came in, the atomic craters ringed by heavy air defense.

The holotank reversed, going to the start of the landing operation.

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Units headed for the drop zones in assault shuttles. Recon section, usually 2 squads of Telkan Marines, two platoons of warborgs, 2 platoons of Marines, one squad of heavy robot combat power armor, an attachment of goodbois and simbas. All loaded onto a dual purpose shuttle.

He slowly pulled out a single cigarette, turned it upside down, and slid it back into the pack.

Each unit was flashing "I Have Engaged the Enemy" as it either got close to the city or entered the city. Half of the assault shuttles were shot down when they reached the craters, the other half were beaten back. Two tried to land and build an LZ according to orders, their weapons still under lockout.

General Nodra'ak slowly pulled out a cigarette, put it in his mandibles, and closed the pack, setting it carefully, back down, on the table, still staring at the holotank as it went through the battle at 10X speed.

Giant creatures erupted from the lakes, attacking the two units attempting to build LZ fire bases. The battle was over in less than ten minutes.

Nodra'ak picked up the lighter. A delightfully primitive contraption that used actual flint, steel, a cotton wick, and liquid petroleum based fuel to create a flame. He snapped open the metal lid, the saying on the side gleaming in the light from the holotank.

"Join the Army; travel to exotic, distant lands; experience ancient and amazing cultures, meet exciting, unusual people. And kill them."

He lit the cigarette, inhaling the stimulant, as he watched the scout units struggle to reach the craters, carrying out their orders from 303rd Military Intelligence Brigade, 13th Military Intelligence Battalion. Most of the units had "LOCKOUT" over their heads in flashing red text.

Interestingly enough, the Telkan units did not. He doublechecked and it became plain that 303/13 had failed to give the Telkan Marine unit information datapacks.

The lighter clicked as he snapped the lighter closed, reaching out with a bladearm to tap a few icons, checking the recorded suit diagnostics.

Interesting. Their armor still has, by regulation, a few features locked out as they're a new allied race unit and have no real dedicated officers. Their previous officer, the morning of this mission, took a bioweapon bladearm through the chest. Their armor is in, largely, read-only mode, which means they didn't get the 303rd's lockout order.

The holotank surged into motion again when Nodra'ak tapped the resume icon.

General Nodra'ak set the lighter on the table with a quiet click, exhaling smoke from his mandibles and from the respiration holes down his abdomen.

The Telkan Scout units laid in a lot of fire. Curious, Nodra'ak highlighted one unit, blanking out the data of the rest of the unit. The scouts quickly ID'd threats, uploading it to the rest of their unit, moving quickly. They seemed adept at jumping up onto walls, using graviton 'spikes' to anchor themselves to the vertical surfaces while they looked for another jump point or deployed their weapons. They were also fast, moving with pack attitudes, a leader out front and the rest seeming to run on instinct.

Nodra'ak tapped the warsteel case of his flip top lighter with the tip of one bladearm, watching the battle take place. He took another deep drag off his cigarette.

The orbital strikes hammered the lakes. Only two units had been able to get visual of the lakes.

The mats of algae and plant fiber drank the energy up even as the thunderclap ripples the surface of the lake. Nodra'ak ran an analysis of the effectiveness of the fire as he exhaled smoke from his respiration orifices, surrounding himself in a cloud of bluish smoke.

The mats and algae had acted like battle-screens, soaking up the particle beam and laser energy.

Of course they did. They grow in heavy radiation craters, probably to soak up and devour the radiation.

Small drones raced out, screaming theater updates. New codes, new frequencies, wargear unlock codes, new drop zones. Most were intercepted, but the creation engine nanoforges pumped out more, the anti-air units throwing the drones up instead of interception drones. Most of those were intercepted and destroyed, but not all, and each wave a few more got close to the cities, each wave got deeper and deeper into the projected drop zones.

The two units at the edges of the craters came under immediate attack. A damaged Orion class dropship verimech managed to stop the initial assault of one of the Class-III bioforms, only meters in front of a defiant Telkan who was firing rockets and grenades as fast as his armor could push out.

The other unit was overwhelmed and destroyed.

Nodra'ak took another deep drag to keep his nerves calm.

His dropships started coming in, immediately coming under heavy fire from all but one crater.

Nodra'ak rewound the recreation, taken from the armor sensor systems and built into a whole. He focused on the unit that not only reached the craters but had gotten their beacon up and then redirected his troops, all of the 3rd Armor Division, to a safer LZ outside of the city.

One trooper, a Corporal Vuxten, 1st Telkan Marines, had disobeyed a direct order from his direct superior officer, opening fire and ordering his troops to open fire. Additionally, he'd managed to override the lockout on half the warborgs. Then he had managed to override 303rd's lockout.

Nodra'ak zoomed in, examining what happened.

The Telkan troop had attached all the warbois, simbas, and half the warborgs to his own unit. Then all of the other troops had removed themselves from the battle tactical network, deleted their mission files, restarted, and linked back into the BATTACNET, their armor systems automatically using the Telkan's mission files, which did not contain the lockout or the 13th MI Threat Update packs.

Nodra'ak knew battle. Had been an Army officer for a hundred years. He knew a battle-field patch-job when he saw it.

The Telkan had been in the right. His own officer, critically wounded and in the ICU, had endorsed the Telkan Marine's decisions and actions, crediting the NCO with enabling the unit to reach its objective as well as managing to get 3rd Armor to a safe LZ.

Yet, if Nodra'ak did not agree with the officer, one Second Lieutenant Ramses Reginald Rogers, then General Nodra'ak would have to support the request for a court martial of the Telkan by higher ranking officers.

Specifically, one General Altair, who had seemed to focus all his wrath on the Telkan Marine, blaming the Telkan for Altair's LZ deployment operation coming apart.

Nodra'ak put out the cigarette, slowly get out another, and lit it, going over the Telkan Marine's file.

Nodra'ak had to admit he was impressed. The Corporal had fought in the Precursor War as an Irregular Scout with the Army and had a rank of PFC in the Army with a handful of medals for close combat. He'd helped put the Telkan Marine Brigade together. Graduate of the Confederate Marine Course. Trusted well enough by his superiors, all men of distinction and valor, to lead missions where he was the sole authority.

The Telkan gestalt loved him. He was on plenty of morale and welfare posters.

Nodra'ak exhaled another cloud of smoke around himself. He ran through several video files of the Telkan Marine in action. Nodra'ak noted that a lot of the memes focused around the armored Telkan Marine still being a debt-slave worker.

WORKER VUXTEN YOU HAVE BEEN FINED TWO DAYS PAY FOR LACK OF GROOMING was the caption of the Telkan Marine covered in blood and guts as he tore a bioweapon in half with his hands as his little green mantis fired a micro-missile launcher and both of the Telkan's shoulder guns were on full auto.

WORKER VUXTEN YOU HAVE BEEN FINED ONE WEEKS PAY FOR UNLICENSED USE OF A VEHICLE was the caption for the Telkan Marine crushing a bioweapon by grabbing a damaged ground car and swinging it to smash the bioweapon.

WORKER VUXTEN YOU HAVE BEEN FINED ONE HOURS PAY FOR VIOLATION OF VERBAL MORALITY STATUTES captioned a video file of the Telkan Marine appearing suddenly by crashing through a plascrete wall and running toward the viewer with 'shit shit shit shit' over his head. Two seconds later a huge bioweapon came crashing through the wall. The little green engineer was standing on top of the Marine's helmet, facing backwards with a 4-pack launcher held up, shooting micro-missiles at the huge bioweapon as the Marine ran by the trooper who's armor recorded the event. Rockets from all side hit the huge bioweapon, blowing apart its midsection in a shower of gore.

It made Nodra'ak snort in amusement.

He's can lead and he's got balls. Now if we can just keep him alive long enough to get the juice flowing to his brains, we might have a Telkan officer on our hands, Nodra'ak thought to himself.

Nodra'ak tapped the "DENIED" icon on the request to court martial Corporal Vuxten, Terran Confederate Marine Corps (Telkan), scribbled his signature with a bladearm tip, and saved the file to official record.

He cleared the holotank, put out his cigarette, and ordered the ready room's atmospherics to clear the smoke out.

He'd seen what he needed to see.

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General Altair wasn't handcuffed or otherwise restrained. His face was unmarred and his dress uniform was pristine. He was perfectly groomed as two Army military police escorted him into the large room. General Altair wasn't worried by the fact that six general officers were sitting on one side of a long table, with two small desks two paces from the table. Both of the small desks had Judge Advocate General officers sitting at them.

General Altair noted the board members and stiffened slightly. One of the officers was from a newly accepted species that had been allowed to keep their rank in their former military organization, not a soldier who had moved properly through the ranks of the Terran Armed Forces. He sat down behind the chair, next to the JAG lawyer.

General Nodra'ak picked up a small hammer and rang a silver bell, filling the room with the sound of the tone.

"Let the court be in session," Nodra'ak said.

Altair felt his skin prickle as the prosecution called its first witness by vid.

Second Lieutenant Rogers was lying in a hospital bed, chest covered in bandages, face bruised, radiation burns gleaming under burn gel. The left side of his face was scarred up in a grid and his eye socket was empty. He was sworn in and then questioned.

It was a military court, not a civilian one, so fancy courtroom tricks didn't work. The Terran Armed Services Code of Military Justice was plain and easy to understand. No trying to shift blame or accuse the Lieutenant of cowardice or incompetence, just plain statements of the facts without opinions.

The witnesses were interviewed, one after another, including an angry Major who's command had been virtually wiped out when the weapon lockout couldn't be overridden even when his men were under heavy fire and taking casualties.

General Altair wasn't worried, not even when he was called up for his turn as a witness.

"Was it regrettable that the lockout could not be disabled? Yes. Did it cost lives? Yes. Is it standard operational procedure to engage lockouts for units not engaged in combat? Yes. My decisions were according to SOP, the TASCMJ, and the best intelligence I had available at the time," General Altair said, looking suitably somber. "Using the best intelligence we had to offer we put together the deployment plan to optimize getting the units of V Corps on the ground even if beacon placement failed."

His own defense lawyer nodded, his face neutral. General Altair made a mental note to ensure that his lawyer ran into difficulties his next promotion board. Altair knew perfectly well that the lawyer was on the edge of allowing his feelings to override his duty.

The prosecuter moved up and with his first question Altair felt his stomach clench.

"Are the planets Telkan-1 and Telkan-2 considered active combat zones across the entire planet, including mandating modified battle dress for all personnel outside of shelters, even if they are within the operational area of logistic bases or not?" The JAG officer asked.

Altair started sweating but he'd prepared for the question.

"It is the opinion of one non-combat officer, who has somehow managed, in over two hundred years, to avoid even the barest hint of combat, that the planets are active combat zones," Altair said, leaving a slight edge of contempt in his voice even as he kept his face neutral. "I question his judgement."

"Objection. Major General Takilikakik's judgement is not on trial here, nor is his decision to label the entire planet a combat zone up for debate," the JAG officer said. "I'd like to remind the officers of the court that the operational command of both ground-side theaters is, as per Space Force Command, under Major General Takilikakik's legal authority while Lieutenant General Altair's area of authority is with military intelligence analysis activities within the Telkan-1 ground and near orbital theaters, as per Space Force Command."

"Sustained," the Chief Officer of the Court stated, nodding.

Altair's political instincts, honed after decades of infighting, suddenly went off.

"An examination of your sphere of authority does not seem to extend you the authority to countermand theater commanders, nor is there any exemptions toward military intelligence missions. To be precise, any military intelligence ground-side missions are to be relayed to Fifth Platoon, Bravo Company, 75th Regiment for planning and operational deployment. I see no area of your orders that turn over combat commands to your posting," the lawyer said. "Is there any evidence you would like to submit that counters that fact?"

Altair just sat there thinking as fast as he could.

"Additionally, sir, and I remind you that you are under oath, you specifically labeled the deployment mission orders as 'routine' and 'non-combat' in order to bypass the legitimate military authorities. Am I correct?" the lawyer asked.

"It was a routine non-combat mission," Altair tried.

"That specifically and repeatedly made allowances for V Corps units to land under fire?"

"Yes. The lines of battle can shift rapidly."

"And you made no effort to lockout V Corps weaponry. As a matter of fact, you suggested to V Corps commanders that they come in, and I quote, locked and loaded and ready for action?"

"The situation on the ground can change rapidly."

"Why not transmit the codes to V Corps to override the lockout if they became engaged in battle?"

"Communication can be spotty in battle, Captain."

"So you wanted to give V Corps commanders the latitude to adjust to rapidly changing ground conditions and lines of battle in an environment that could restrict communications access?" the lawyer asked.

"Of course."

"With that claim, can you tell me how many units you were in contact with once the dropship left the operational bases to a distance of ten kilometers?"

"Not off the top of my head, no."

"Well, General, I have it right here. The number is somewhat easy to fathom. Would you care to guess how many of the eighty units you had deployed you had communication with at the fifteen mile mark?"

"I would hazard a guess of 80%," Altair said, feeling better. This was the proper way things should go.

"Eight zero percent?"

"Yes."

"One of those numbers is accurate. The zero," the JAG Captain said.

There was complete silence.

"Nothing further," The JAG officer said.

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The members of the board filed into the secondary room, taking their seats and looking at General Nodra'ak, who slowly lit a cigarette.

"This is a bag of snakes," the Treana'ad said.

Everyone nodded.

"It's all over the lower ranks. Everyone ground-side knows that Altair sent the Marines to their deaths with their weapons locked out. They're furious," General Trucker said. He spit into the plas bottle in his hand. "Those Marines have been holding off the bioweapons for over a week. First Telkan, with the exception of a single Marine, was completely unblooded and they took heavy casualties thanks to that jackass."

General Esheleshee, one of the 8th Infantry Division commanders nodded. "Which is an additional problem to the major one I foresee."

Nodra'ak jabbed his cigarette at Esheleshee. "What's that?"

"The Telkan aren't quite aware of how bad of a cockup this is, but someone's going to explain to them that the Marines were left with locked out weapons while the Army got to come burning in with hot guns. We don't want the Telkans to think we think they're expendable," Esheleshee said.

Nodra'ak exhaled smoke and nodded.

"General Altair filed this quite innovatively. If it had gone off successfully, since he had planned it, he would have gotten all the credit. Because it went badly, he can attempt to lay the blame on the ground commander, General Takilikakik, leaving everyone to assume that Takilikakik's first combat command had gone badly," General Ulfreck stated.

"Not to mention he attempted to lay the blame for the debacle at the 3rd Armor landing zone on a Telkan Marine Corporal," Nodra'ak nodded. "I watched recreations of that battle and the sheer gall it takes to try to court martial that Marine and attempt to imply Lieutenant Rogers was incompetent rather than making mistakes that troops on their first combat drop can make."

The entire court went silent.

After a moment General Nodra'ak exhaled smoke and stared at the rest. "Well, we better get on with it. We'll just take an open vote."

"Has the court found suitable basis to relieve General Altair of command and remand him to TerraSol for court martial?" Nodra'ak asked. He then asked each board member for their vote.

It passed unanimously.

"What is the board's recommendation for court martial?" Nodra'ak asked.

The vote for a 'Special Court Martial' was carried, again, unanimously.

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TASK FORCE 32 MEMO

V Corps (Mixed Metal) has successfully made planetfall on Telkan-1 and Telkan-2 and has been folded into Space Force TO&E.

General Altair is hereby relieved of command of 303 Military Intelligence and remanded to the custody of the Military Police for transport to TerraSol for court martial.

303 Military Intelligence is ordered to Wellton-638 for reorganization. All officers and enlisted on station for more than 5 years are to be reassigned outside of Corps and Army.

128th Military Intelligence (V CORPS) is hereby assigned to Hyperion-One to take over duties of 303 MI.

System is in control of CONFEDMIL forces. Task Force 32 requests Naval relief due to combat action losses and damage.

ETA for evacuation of Telkan-1 and Telkan-2 is four days.

Enemy strength planetside is overwhelming. The biosphere and ecosystem are lost.

Civilian authorities have requested planet be retaken and terraformed to Pre-Council state.

General Takilikakik is commended in his staunch defense of the planet and its inhabitants.

1st Telkan Marines are commended for the actions.

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Corporal Vuxten, 1st Telkan Marines, is hereby pinned brevet Second Lieutenant and recommended for Officer Candidate School.

-------NOTHING FOLLOWS---------

Brentili'ik stared at the memo, then closed her eyes and bowed her head.

Four more days.

All he had to do is survive for four more days.