Random Coyote Productions
patreon
There's No Justice, There's Just Us
🕑 Added 2021-09-10 16:00:01 +0000 UTCThere’s No Justice-- There’s Just Us
by Arik C Grant-- Copyright © 1996
As long as there were people like Sergeant Sajo, there would be rebels. And as long as there were rebels, people like Sergeant Sajo would be forever necessary. It was a neat little self-contained package of uprising and repression that kept a great many people employed-- in the Irrykanoi People’s Republic Army.
The Republic Army spent most of its time fighting rebels, in fact, and was actually quite good at counter-insurgency warfare. They had been at it for hundreds of years, after all, and despite the best efforts of military brass and politicians, some degree of competency had actually taken hold. Sergeant Sajo was representative of that competency. He’d directed charges and carried out reprisals on dozens of different worlds, against a variety of opponents. His hands had personally been washed in the blood of hundreds of people who’d dared to rise against the rule of the Irrykanoi Republic. He was quite good at what he did.
Everyone hated his guts.
*** ***
Who would have expected the rebels to get ahold of nerve gas? Wondered Corporal Hajek. He sat, hunched over on the narrow seat of the troop transporter, wedged in among the other soldiers who were lost in thoughts of their own. A bead of sweat trickled down his back, between his shoulder blades, before being soaked up by his shirt. Everyone looked around nervously, which meant that they had to swivel their whole torsos since the gas masks did not allow for much peripheral vision. Everyone’s eyes would stop to rest on the back of one unfortunate soldier, Corporal Tana Kennack. She worked nervously on the exposed electronics of a vapor analyzer, under the harsh glare of Sergeant Sajo.
“Well?” Sajo growled at her.
“Nothing, Sergeant,” she replied neutrally. Corporal Hajek had heard that tone of voice before-- when Sergeant Sajo would start in on Kennack with his perceptions about how stupid and worthless she was, that she was weak, that she should not be anything in the Army except maybe a clerk. “It is perfectly workable, Sergeant, at this end. I’d say that the external sensors took a hit.” She looked up at him, eyes expressionless behind the plastiglass of her visor. Sajo grunted.
“You’d say. You don’t know.”
“Not for sure, Sergeant,” she replied. She looked around for moral support, but everyone averted their eyes, as always. Except Hajek, who’s eyes never betrayed anything-- they just soaked up information without letting anyone know how he felt about what he learned. He grit his teeth, but no one would notice.
Sergeant Sajo also looked around the cramped troop compartment of the armored vehicle. Seven soldiers, including his two team leaders, corporals Hajek and Kennack. Kennack, the human woman he’d been told would be in his squad, that he would deal with fairly, or heads would roll. His, for starters. Nobody else had minded, it was like when Private Heeja had joined them, the mottle-skinned an-veliscii who was once known as a member of the ‘other race’ of veliscii. He was now a part of the team, and Sajo had once had to adjust to that, too.
“So, until we can get the sensors fixed, or the radio” Sajo announced, even though everyone already understood, “we have no idea if the gas has dissipated yet or not.” He snorted contemptuously. “So much for experts,” he added. Kennack looked down. She was one of the first women in the battalion, and certainly the first to be promoted to a combat leadership position. If Sajo had his way, she’d get no further, and no others would follow in her wake. One of the ways she had managed to get her promotion was specializing in sensor operations.
The vehicle was silent for a long time. Hajek wanted to say something, but he could not think of what he wanted to say. Kennack, defeated, looked over at him and their gaze met. She had a frustrated look in her eyes, and she gave a slight shake of her head. Hajek grimaced in sympathy, making sure that Sajo could not see him. So far, Sajo had not paid much attention to Hajek, who’d done his job well and didn’t get in the way. The veliscii corporal did not ask questions, did not speak unless spoken to, and for the most part just acted as an extension of the sergeant’s will, as Sajo expected. Since Hajek was able to slip through the cracks of Sajo’s notice, he was able to get away with the occasional concession for the other troops. Silent moral support was one way he communicated to Kennack that she wasn’t the problem.
“Corporal,” Sajo said. Hajek looked up, for Sajo never addressed Kennack as ‘corporal’, he usually just spat her name out or used other, more colorful terms.
“Sergeant?”
“How long ago did those indig bastards pop that gas canister?” Sajo asked. Hajek looked evenly at him.
“Maybe an hour, Sergeant,” he replied simply. Sajo nodded, a faraway look in his eyes.
“An hour.” His voice drifted off as thoughts rolled in his mind. “What did you think?” he asked forcefully, “Inhalant? Non-persistent?” Hajek nodded in agreement.
“They wouldn’t be able to home brew anything too sophisticated,” Hajek replied. “No skin absorbents, nothing persistent. Could be phosgene, cyanogen chloride.” He paused to gather his thoughts; this was not often a situation they encountered. “If so, the LCT-50 rate would be high, almost a vapor.” Sajo took all the information in.
“And the ground is hard-packed, and the sun is out,” Sajo added.
“Light foliage,” murmured Kennack, “slight breeze from the east. Chances are it’s dissipated by now,” she volunteered. Sajo turned to look at her.
“Okay, then,” he said with a stern voice. “Take off your mask.”
Everyone in the vehicle froze and looked at Sajo. Hajek’s mouth dropped open, and Kennack looked as if she had suddenly lost the ability to understand the language. Or at least those four words. Sajo glared at her, leaning close, until their plastiglass visors almost touched. “You heard me. Take off your mask. Now.” His hands shifted in his lap, resting on the carbine he carried. His thumb grazed the actuator and the weapon whined to life, full of charged energy.
“Sergeant?” someone said quietly, but Hajek could not tell who. Sergeant Sajo did not bother to turn around, but just waved them to silence with his free hand. He continued to glare at Kennack, who’s mouth moved but made no sound. She was gasping for breath, her eyes darting around, landing on everyone’s face at least once. Her look was returned, but blankly. Hajek himself was breathing hard now, and the sweat started rolling down his back like a small river. A bead collected on the end of an eyelash, he flicked it away with a blink.
“You want to be a leader, Kennack, you have to learn what it means to take risks,” Sajo admonished. “No bitch in my squad is going to get a free ride. As far as I’m concerned, you haven’t earned that promotion yet. You’re going to have to go twice as far, with half the resources, before I will even begin to admit that you can perform.” He waved to the rest of the squad in the troop compartment. “Show these men that you aren’t afraid to show a little courage,” he hissed. Kennack’s eyes locked on Hajek’s. Her face tightened and grew red, and tears were beginning to form along the bottoms of her eyes, running down her cheeks, her chin, neck, and pooling into the cloth of her shirt.
Hajek looked around-- everyone was frozen in place, the younger squad members staring at the drama unfolding before them. Private Heeja, the object of Sajo’s derision until Kennack showed up, was almost choking with frustration. He, of all the squad’s members, could understand too well the plight the human woman was in. If she had not transferred in just two months ago, he would be the one on the spot right now. And he knew it. Hajek felt the bile rise in his stomach. For no reason other than spite, Sajo was going to waste a perfectly good soldier, because he didn’t like the way her personal plumbing was arranged. He felt his face grow cold, even in the hot layers and stifling enclosure of the chemical protection suit.
“Remove your mask, corporal Kennack, or remove your stripes,” Sajo threatened. “You said it yourself-- chances are it’s dissipated. You wouldn’t want to make a liar out of yourself, now, would you? You’ve waited a long time to show me how smart you are and prove me wrong before the whole squad, well guess what? Here’s your chance.” He reached over and pointed to the metal catches that sealed her helmet. “Just pop these open and take a nice, deep, breath.” He hovered over her, grinning with a twisted humor. Hajek felt tight all over and could hear his heart pound in the helmet. Sajo turned away. “You are worthless,” he said.
A helmet seal hissed. Everyone but Sajo locked their eyes on Kennack’s hands, which were noticeably trembling, as they reached for the catches on her helmet. While Sajo looked away, smiling in triumph, Kennack broke the seal on her mask and lifted it off her head. Her close cropped red-brown hair was pasted against her scalp by sweat, and tears ran freely down her cheeks. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and her breath came in short sobs. She held her breath long enough to get her respiration under control, then took a sharp, deep inhalation. She paused before letting it out, then breathed in again, loudly.
Another loud click resounded in the confines of the troop carrier. The sound echoed as if in a cathedral, and Hajek turned to face the source of the noise. Private Heeja, the former target of Sajo’s torment, popped the seal on his mask. He lifted his helmet off and breathed deeply.
“It is alright,” he said, avoiding Sajo’s glare. Hajek, without thinking, reached up and popped the catches securing his own mask. It, too, was lifted off and his hot, sweaty face was bathed in the cool, dry outside air. Quickly, the other young soldiers followed suit, and only Sajo was left with his mask on.
“Damn foolish,” Sajo growled, leveling a gaze at each of them. His eyes narrowed as he focused on Hajek, as if to say, I expected better from you. Hajek met his gaze evenly and for the first time resisted the will of his squad leader. They both looked over at Kennack, who was trying to dry her tears and get herself under control. Sajo glared at her but Hajek looked away, ashamed, and his eyes met private Heeja’s. The young an-veliscii was almost near tears himself but maintained his stony appearance. I should have been the one, Hajek thought.
Sajo waited a full five hepts, as per the regulations, to observe the others. When nobody else showed signs of gas injury, only then did he remove his own mask.
*** ***
The squad formed a wedge formation outside the troop carrier and faced the edge of the treeline. Everyone had their chemical protective masks ready. Rifles were angled out and ready for attack from any direction and everyone scanned their area of responsibility. Hajek looked over at Kennack, who had collected herself together but was unusually quiet and reserved. Hajek could not blame her, but he hoped she would be as razor-sharp as she usually was. Sajo would need little prompting by this time to remove her rank and position.
Sajo himself was directing the troop carrier into position behind the squad, nestling it into the crook of the vee-shape of their wedge. It would follow along behind them, providing immediate heavy support if needed. The driver and commander of the vehicle traded glances with each other. They looked very uneasy after the scene in the vehicle, which they had not been a part of but witnessed, nonetheless. The whole squad was nervous, Hajek noted, with none of the usual chatter and joking bandied about before going on a patrol.
Sajo wanted the hides of the rebels who’d popped the gas canister, killing their comrades in first squad. Rather than wait for support, he said the squad would go and root them out of hiding on their own. A professional matter, he said, a matter of pride. Of showing to the rebels that the Empire does not fear them. He said that while glaring at Kennack, who’d looked away and said nothing. And now they were moving.
Sajo directed from the front, as he always did. They walked carefully into the foliage, keeping within eight meters of one another. They only had to go about two hundred meters before they came across the clearing where the gas canister had been set up. The spent canister still stood there; an old hydrogen cooler hastily converted to chemical warfare purposes. Primitive, but effective. Sajo called for the squad to halt and form a defensive perimeter around the clearing. He then called Hajek over to him, next to the canister.
“What do you think?” Sajo asked quietly. He already knew the answers he was looking for-- he was testing Hajek, and the veliscii corporal knew it. Sajo was unhappy with him for being supportive of a female and a an-veliscii of ‘inferior’ blood and wanted to know if he was going to step back in line. Hajek acted as if nothing had happened back in the troop carrier.
“Standard two-hundred-liter container, Sergeant,” Hajek replied, looking at the container. “Heavy to move. Their hideout cannot be too far from here,” he said, looking around. There were no roads for vehicles to have carried the canister, and a vehicle would have been picked up on scans immediately and destroyed. The rebels did not use vehicles after losing so many in the first weeks of the insurgency.
“So,” Sajo said in relation to Hajek’s assessment, “If the rebel camp is nearby, then they would have expected this canister to fill the valley with gas. That means they’ll have gas masks as well. It will be pointless for us to hit them with our own stuff. We’ll have to go in and hit them personally.” Hajek nodded.
“Unless they used the gas as a cover to escape while we waited,” Hajek pointed out. “We won’t have a satellite flyover for another fifteen hepts.”
“That’s why we move now,” Sajo growled. “Are you with me?” Hajek gave him a feral grin he did not feel inside.
“Let’s take ‘em out,” he said. Sajo appeared satisfied. Hajek went back to his position with the squad and Sajo called everyone up and resumed their wedge formation. They walked ahead another five hundred meters before coming to the clearing that had to have been the rebel encampment.
The hideaway had been hastily surrounded by tripwires, which were amateurishly set up and easy to detect. The squad had disarmed all the rebel boobytraps before moving in. Well-dug fighting positions lay empty, and most of the easily carried supplies were gone. A few simple tables and camp stools remained. The rebels had left immediately after popping the canister. In the center of the campsite stood two more hydrogen coolers, in various stages of being converted over for use as chemical vaporizers. Hajek looked at the time display on his eyelens. One of the satellites would be overhead by now and would be able to provide a view beyond the nearby hills circling the valley. He talked to Kennack about getting an uplink.
“We need to see what’s beyond the ridge line,” he said. “You’re the one with the commo gear. See if you can get the satt.” He paused a moment, while she set up the portable receiver dish. “You alright?” he asked in a low tone. Kennack looked up at him for a moment, her hands still busy. She knew the gear inside and out and did not need to see what she was doing.
“I’ll be fine,” she said quietly. Her eyes were still a bit red-rimmed but otherwise she showed no sign of her earlier stress. “I’m just stuck. If I ask for a transfer, it looks like I can’t handle it. My career is tentative enough already.” Hajek nodded his understanding.
“If I take an open stance against him, I’m in as much jeopardy as you are,” he said, “I can’t call him off or anything. The officers like him because he gets results in the field.” Kennack shook her head slightly.
“It’s not your fight, Hajek,” she admonished. “I’ll earn his respect or get burned up trying.” She glanced over at Sajo, who was looking in their direction, a scowl on his face. Sajo was pulling private Heeja alongside, having the young an-veliscii fill out detailed reports on the abandoned rebel equipment. Heeja looked at them with sympathy before going back to work.
“Shit! Your team respects you because you treat them like people instead of like expendable assets. He’s actually used that term to refer to his people, you know.,” Hajek paused before adding, “He thinks you ought to be back in the civilian world, making ‘replacement troops’ for him. That’s one of the reasons he resents you being here. With that up against you, you’ll never get anywhere with him.” Kennack sighed, nodding her acceptance of the situation but still denying the inevitable outcome.
“That thing set up yet?” grumbled a low voice. Sajo approached them, Heeja on his heels. The private wouldn’t look in their eyes. Kennack leaned back.
“All set up, Sergeant,” she announced with a layered-on cheerfulness. Sajo growled.
“Then get to work, damn you. I want an overview of where the rebels could have gone in the last two hours.” He glared down at her, but Kennack had already started her task so the effect was lost on the top of her helmet. Sajo looked at Hajek, a cold, calculating look. Hajek just grimaced. Heeja studied nearby rock formations. The other soldiers stole glances at the group of them, and exchanged looks between themselves, but said nothing. The crew of the troop carrier hastily looked away when Hajek’s gaze panned around to where they sat in their vehicle. The tense silence grew thick, thicker than the cloud of nerve gas had been. There was not even random animal noise in the distance-- all the creatures in the valley exposed to the gas were now dead.
“Movement,” Kennack alerted everyone on the squad frequency. She pointed to a ridge line almost seven hundred meters away. Weapons wheeled to face the direction indicated. “Six life forms, computer imaging coming in. . .” in moments, a real-time transmission came on her portable viewscreen. Five males and a female, all veliscii, all holding rifles, were sneaking up on the ridge line. Alternate firing positions had been dug into the ridge line long ago. The rebels had planned to abandon the base camp, then ambush anyone who came investigating. If they’d been caught without the satellite reconnaissance, the rebel plan would have worked perfectly. Sajo leaped into action.
“Line formation! Combat speed to the ridge line! You!” he pointed at the commander of the troop carrier. “Give us cover to the ridge line. If we have to retreat, I’ll want smoke grenades laid down behind us!” The vehicle commander acknowledged the orders and leveled his turret gun at the ridge. The squad started moving for the rebels, hoping to get there before they did, and ambush the ambush. Kennack got up and grabbed her rifle, but Sajo stopped her.
“The sensors on the vehicle are broken,” he said, “you stay here and watch the rebels. If they make any other moves, let us know over the radio.” Kennack started to protest, but a warning look from Hajek silenced her. Sajo took command of Kennack’s team. Everyone knew that Sajo wanted Kennack left out of the fight, but the orders were quite sensible. Someone needed to stay behind and monitor the enemy. The squad took off at a jogging pace, leaving Kennack behind.
*** ***
“You are within thirty-five meters of the rebels,” Kennack said over the comm. “They do not seem to see you yet. The slope you are on is steep, and they are not getting close enough to look over the edge,” she explained. The rebellion had only been going on for a few months, and the rebels were still making some basic mistakes. Sajo nodded at this news and whispered into his radio.
“Grenades,” he ordered. Everyone pulled out a green, explosive-packed egg from a belt pouch. As one, the squad opened the safety catches and thumbed the arming buttons. “Now!” Sajo hollered. The grenades sailed into the air towards the rebel positions, and a cry of surprise was heard. The detonations followed immediately afterward, a muffled thump! accompanied by a tremor in the soil they huddled against. Sajo was the first one on his feet, charging towards the rebels, firing multiple bursts from his blaster rifle. The others followed suit, charging into the formation of confused, startled rebels. The rebels were able to recover quickly, however-- the grenades had achieved a surprise effect on them, but many of them had landed between fighting positions. After a moment’s hesitation, they were able to return a wild, undisciplined fire that kept the regular army troops from taking aimed shots. Both sides blazed away, mostly ineffectively, at close range on full automatic. Adrenaline and fear kept everyone so edgy that most shots went wide. Only Sajo was making any real effect, jumping into a foxhole with a startled rebel and sticking the muzzle of his weapon into the enemy’s gut and firing. He then concentrated on the next foxhole over, where that rebel was busy with another of the soldiers.
Hajek leapt through the air, narrowly missed by a bolt of energy from the female rebel’s rifle. The crackle-snap of the energy beam was close enough to cause his radio to go dead, filling his ears with an electronic hiss. He landed next to her. Panicking, she began to crawl backwards out of the foxhole, keeping the rifle aimed in his general direction. She panic-fired burst after burst into the ground underneath Hajek, who was instantly paralyzed with fear. Around him, the sounds of battle were beginning to build to a crescendo. The female’s eyes were a mix of hate and horror. Their eyes met and suddenly Hajek felt a calm settle over him. The muzzle of the rebel’s blaster swung up and for a moment he could see the endless black tube, the intricate details of the pitting and scarring of the flash suppressor, and the gleam of worn metal around the hand guards. Acrid smoke from the weapon drifted into his nostrils and he smelt the burnt, poisoned ozone smell typical of an energy rifle. He felt strangely accepting of what was going to happen.
Suddenly, the rebel girl’s eyes panned upward, and she tried to raise the muzzle of the weapon to track on what she saw. It was no use-- her strength was almost sapped out by the intensity of the fight, and the fact that she was still trying to crawl away backwards, and one hand was needed to prop herself out of the hole. One-handing the rifle, it was too bulky for her to swing up in time to meet the threat that materialized behind Hajek. Her mouth opened in a scream, but Hajek could only hear his own blood pounding in his ears. A shadow sailed overhead and impacted with her. Private Heeja hit her with a hard thump, his body weight almost doubled by the armored vest he wore and his equipment. She screamed in pain.
The dull impact snapped Hajek out of his trance-like state. He hastily crawled across the floor of the foxhole and dove for the girl’s side. Her weapon was pinned between them. Heeja rolled off to one side, grappling her free arm. Hajek flung his own weapon aside and grabbed for her gun hand. She screamed in his ear, blocking out the sound of the hissing radio. His fingers grazed the receiver of the unfamiliar weapon, trying to find a safety, a shut-off, a magazine release, anything that would render the rifle inoperative. He twisted his body around, trying to get a look at the weapon while keeping her pinned.
Sajo appeared in the corner of his eye. He was screaming something at him and Heeja, something about getting off the girl, while his own weapon was raised to shoot at her. Hajek couldn’t hear him. Suddenly, his fingers caught something warm and fleshy-- the rebel girl’s hand. He wrapped his fingers around them and suddenly everything became clear. The sky was so blue, the air was so clean, and everything was silent again. The girl’s rifle was still half-raised, and Hajek realized that by arcing his back a little, he could see sergeant Sajo clearly off to one side of the gun muzzle. He tried to push the girl’s hand to one side so that the rebel’s blaster would align itself on Sajo. It wouldn’t budge. His body still had her arm pinned. Hajek lay there, confused, for half a second, until another hand appeared in his vision. Private Heeja’s. The an-veliscii grabbed the barrel of the weapon and brought it left the crucial few centimeters needed to align the weapon on their squad leader. Sajo was shouting now, but his eyes were just starting to assimilate what they were seeing. His mouth dropped open in shock and betrayal, and he turned his rifle towards Hajek.
Hajek squeezed the girl’s hand, tightly.
The rifle roared.
Sajo’s chest turned crimson, and his back blossomed in an explosion of color.
Hajek tore the rifle out of the girl’s uncomprehending grasp. She lay there, stunned, perfectly aware of what just happened. She relaxed, completely limp, as the shock drained the last of her energy from her. She looked up at Hajek and Heeja and understood. She did not resist at all when they shot her, a mercifully quick, clean death.
*** ***
Kennack sat in the back of the vehicle, reviewing the holo of what the satellite’s camera saw. Nobody spoke. Nobody moved, except in response to a sudden lurching of the troop carrier as it slid along on its antigravity cushion, keeping low to the ground. Over and over, she saw what happened. The fight would look as if Hajek and Heeja were struggling with the girl, who managed to shoot Sajo. Hajek’s own body blocked the view of what his hands did, and Heeja appeared to be trying to assist Hajek in wrestling the weapon away from the girl. After Sajo was killed the two took out their revenge on the girl, and that was what it would look like to the intelligence analysts back at the firebase.
She looked around at the other soldiers, exhausted, silent, caked with dust. Everyone’s eyes met and they all shared the same hollow look. Nobody felt any sorrow or remorse. Nobody talked about it. Nobody mentioned it. The squad bundled up Sajo’s body and brought it back, slung to the outside of the troop carrier. Hajek, now in command, mechanically reported one casualty. It was recorded into the log with a grim efficiency. Hajek insisted that Sajo be given a posthumous commendation for his actions against the rebels. Everyone seemed to relax a bit at that.
And they continued their silence, which grew easier with time.
Comments
John Bandow
Bastard got fragged. Brings to mind what the husband of my Dad's godmother did during WW2. He and his fellow soldiers killed their XO in battle. My Dad never found out why, but I am sure those guys had a good reason.
