“The AHF wants you!

Have you always wanted to put your skills to the test? To fight aliens and defend planets like yours?

Well, you’re in luck. The AHF has a recruitment center near you!

Build your future, have an adventure, see the stars!”

– Recruitment poster from Phoenix Prime.

“Another round over here!” Dave yelled across the bar. Unfortunately, the chorus of cheers that followed made it nearly impossible for the bartender to hear. Fortunately, the man had worked onboard an AHF ship for long enough to know exactly what soldiers wanted, and how often they wanted it.

On an average night, the Flooded Boot was crowded, but not uncomfortably so.

That was not the case tonight.

It was the last night of a two-year journey for the privates of the Seventh Brigade. And, as all privates do, they’d collectively ended this portion of their career with as many bad choices as possible while hoping their future commanders didn’t have long memories.

Ironically, Dave was one of the few people not making bad choices. Instead, he sat on a barstool in the corner with an acoustic guitar in his hands. Over the past year, he’d built a decent reputation for his uncanny ability to pull on heartstrings with just an instrument and his voice.

The Georgian cowboy didn’t bother standing for the crowd, and they didn’t bother asking him. He didn’t believe standing was necessary to make good music, and the crowd knew that. He’d rather sit and enjoy the night than stand and get tired.

“You know,” Warren said to the other members of Turaspeir while Dave played in the background, “I always knew he was about as country as it got, but I would’ve never pegged him for a musician.”

“He’s always hated the way people get sucked into games and Tv. I can’t tell you the number of times he and I would just sit in the barn with a cold beer and a guitar,” Alec explained. “It was nice to just sit back and enjoy life before…”

He didn’t need to go further with that story. Both he and Dave had long ago shared their stories of loss. Apparently, a rebellious attitude toward leadership was just in their nature. For a while, the authorities left their families alone since they caused no actual harm to anyone. Their little meetings gave the locals a way to express their discontent toward the government without hurting the political game plan.

Eventually, they crossed that magical threshold between eccentric and threatening. Like every corrupt system, it was only a matter of time before the officials turned both families into examples of what happens when you stand up to corruption. With their families gone, the requirements on farming increasing, and Dave losing his land to eminent domain, the decision to sell everything and start over was an easy one.

“Before we get sucked into that particular black hole,” Warren said, sensing the darkening mood around the table, “who’s ready to be a real soldier?”

“I am,” Nessa said, leaning back in her chair and taking a deep pull from her drink. “It feels like this training bit has lasted a lifetime already.”

“I would hardly call two years a lifetime,” Jack replied. “Honestly, though, it is scary to think that we’ll be out in the field alone during a live mission. Sure, we’ve gone on patrols with the other squads, but this is the first time it will be real.”

“I hear what you’re saying, but I’m calling bullshit. We’ve spent the past two years learning how to handle just about every conceivable situation.” Warren shook his head. “I mean, look at it, those ‘shadow missions’ weren’t exactly in the nicest areas. More often than not, they were actual missions with actual fire we had to help with. We were just delegated to the rear of the fight.”

As much as the others wanted to deny what the wiry man was saying, they knew he had a point. They’d already been in live-fire situations. Was it with more experienced soldiers standing next to them? Yes, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t true combat. This would be the first time out on their own without the older soldiers holding their hands, and that was the only reason any of them were worried.

"Where will we get deployed first?" Thea wondered as she gazed through the crowd of people surrounding the cowboy. “As long as it has a bar for Dave to play in, I don’t think we’d mind much.”

“I highly doubt that hanging out in a bar will ever be part of our mission briefing.” Diego said, taking a drag from his drink, “Although I wouldn’t be upset if we landed a planet side duty for a year or so.”

“You say that now, but I promise you that every person at this table would go well past the point of boredom within a week.” Heather said with a laugh, “It will be nice to go by Turaspeir instead of ‘Wolf pups’, though.”

“We all know that it won’t even be an entire mission before they drop the Tura and just call us Speir,” Nessa grinned.

It was nice to see the intense woman smiling. Jack knew she held an incredible amount of baggage inside, but never really talked about it with anyone. If they could just get her to open up, she would be a different person altogether.

“Yeah, but at least it will be a glorious half-mission. No matter how hard they try to change it, we’ll always be us,” Dave said, walking over and putting an arm around Heather and Nessa. “Speaking of not changing; Jack, how did the old fart handle you wanting to be close-range?”

“Same as he has for the last year, how else?” Jack replied, “The man hates the idea that any member of his corps will see action, and he will do anything and everything in his power to convince a new Optic to stay safe on the ship. He treats Summers like a maverick and obviously wishes he would’ve been drummed out years ago.”

“That bad?”

“No… I get his point. He is worried about all soldiers and doesn’t want to see any of us die, Optics especially. He basically told me that the proper place for a comms guy is as far back as possible. If he had his way, I’d never step foot outside my cabin.” Jack explained, “But he also said that since we graduate tomorrow, our mistakes are our own and if we choose to ignore his advice, so are the consequences.”

“But if you’re good at being on the front lines, why the hell would he try to convince you otherwise?” Alec asked incredulously.

“Because we are so rare,” Jack answered, “And unfortunately, it’s the only part of the argument that I can’t deny. Out of every thousand recruits, only about ten end up becoming Optics. Of those, only a few will ever be able to handle more than three strings.”

Including myself. Jack thought bitterly. Why was it he couldn’t push himself farther when he put so much damned work into it? What was the point of the permanent marks on his face if he couldn’t even be a hair stronger than average?

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

“You can fight however you damn well please. We will have your back no matter where you are on that field,” Diego said.

“I… I don’t know.” Nessa said hesitantly, “Truth be told, Albert has a point. Jack, maybe you should consider hanging toward the rear of our formation. If it protects you, it’s worth it, right?”

“Whose side are you on?” Dave said, slack-jawed.

“The one that keeps my friend alive.”

“That’s what I’m for. My entire reason for existing is to stop the bad shit from ever getting close to you guys.” He said, pounding on his chest, “And so far I’m pretty damned good at my job.”

“As long as his ego can stop a bullet, we’ll never get hurt.” Alec snorted.

“Putting Dave’s ego aside,” Thea began, “If we can’t keep each other alive with the skill we have now, we have no right to call ourselves soldiers. Putting one of our most valuable assets in the back may be the smart money move, but who said we have to take it? Jack is just as versatile as the rest of us, and I challenge you to say that’s not true.”

“I’ll agree that he is a skilled fighter, and a damned good one at that. I just want him to remember that our ability to communicate is what saves lives, not our ability to kill. If he needs to pull back to save his skin, I expect him to throw me in the way so that we can all escape.” Nessa conceded.

“She has a good point,” Jack defended. It was almost funny. He was more than willing to argue this point with the founder of his corps, but when it was a friend saying the same thing, it just started making sense. “Can we accept that I can fight up front, but may need to fall back if the situation gets too hot?”

Nods around the table told him that yes, they not only agreed but would do everything they could to make sure everyone would always get home in one piece.

“Hey, I just thought of something,” Alec said, sipping on his drink. “Back on Algol, we were told that the Officers all had old Earth Navy ranks, but that’s bullshit. We have captains, colonels, generals, the whole nine. What the hell is that about?”

“Does it really matter? It probably relates to the different types of unit, but we hadn’t been exposed to that yet,” Warren shrugged.

Dave slammed his beer and announced that his break was over and his adoring fans needed more. The job didn’t pay, but they correctly assumed that he just enjoyed the music a little too much to be away from it for long.

Deep in thought, Jack placed his empty glass on the table and made his way out of the crowded bar. So many privates were celebrating tonight like it was college graduation, but he just couldn’t see it like that. To him, this marked the beginning of the real world. And, no matter how often he said otherwise, he was terrified.

He had to admit that both Albert and Nessa were right. Keeping the Optic off the battlefield would never be a bad move, especially since it meant the support soldier would never fall in a fight. However, choosing to stay behind also meant living with the potential that a friend might die. If that happened, he would never stop wondering if he could’ve stopped it.

Tomorrow wasn’t a promised thing in life, and that rings especially true for soldiers.

~~**~~

Jack stepped off the elevator onto the dark gray metal floor of the observation deck. Unlike the ship that brought them to Algol, the observatory on the Washington existed in perpetual darkness. The only light allowed here was the faint glow of the floor lights leading to the exit. Above, a thick layer of transparent steel stood as the only separation between him and the vacuum of space.

He would never tire of seeing those distant celestial bodies. Every time he visited this place, the sight of them took his breath away. Unlike the view from a planet’s surface, the complete lack of light pollution made this scene unlike anything else.

“I still find them beautiful, no matter where we are,” Thea said quietly as she sidled up to him. The words were a whisper, almost like she was afraid to break the sanctity of silence in this room, “Especially the Nebulas.”

“They are nothing compared to you,” Jack whispered, wrapping his arms around her. He knew it was cheesy, but they’d been dating regularly for the past year, and she knew that the complexity of his words did not match his depth of feeling. They spent so much time with their squad, it was difficult to remember who they really were.

But when they could be alone, the observatory was their favorite place to go. They could be themselves.

“Be nice,” she said, wriggling out of his arms. “It’s dark, but not that dark.”

“Could you imagine sleeping under these stars?” Jack said, ignoring her innuendo.

“No. The floor is steel, and the room is cold. Even if I wore my uniform, I’d freeze my ass off.”

“All the more reason for us to get a little closer,” he said, chuckling and taking her hand in his.

“Yes, because we have enough body heat to warm up a deck that is roughly the size of the ship,” she replied flatly.

“You don’t know.”

“No… I really do. And I also know that there is no way in hell I’m getting naked on this cold metal.”

“Psh, where’s your sense of adventure?” he laughed, turning his eyes back to the stars but keeping his mind solely on her. He’d dated a few women back on Earth, but his endless sarcasm always drove them away. Fortunately, Thea seemed to be immune to his comments. If anything, she was far worse than he was in that department.

“I just don’t know what to do,” he sighed, “I hear what Albert is saying and I understand it logically, but every time I think … I just can’t take one of you getting hurt because I wasn’t there to warn you about the bad guy around the corner. No matter how many times someone like Dave would say it wasn’t my fault, I would always feel responsible for what happened.”

“Every Officer that has sent a soldier into battle knows that feeling, Jack, you’re just a hair ahead of the curve. Think about it, every corps has its own set of pathways for a soldier to make. Hell, the Phantoms alone have three. We have to make those choices for ourselves, but it is up to our teachers to tell us what those options are.” She explained, “Do you remember how conflicted I was when I made the choice between field medic and assassin?”

“That was more of a morality question though, wasn’t it?”

“And yours isn’t?”

That made him think, was his predicament more a question of morality, or bravery?

If he listened to Albert, his beliefs were nothing more than bullheaded selfishness that would inevitably lead to his own death. And he could see why the old man thought that way, especially when Jack’s choice was really based on preference rather than strategy.

But something inside him told him to listen to his heart. He could never sit idly by while his friends died. Especially when that death would follow the intelligence he provided. Could he satisfy both strategy and his heart at the same time? Could he find a balance and move around the battlefield?

What about Summers?

The man spent his entire life in the field fighting the good fight, moving from the front to the back, depending on what the situation called for. Could he do the same?

“Would you do it?”

“I’ve already made that choice, and the answer is yes. I spent the last year learning how to take the enemy out with a touch. Yes, I learned how to heal, but I can also recognize that the more useful place for me is with my platoon.”

“Won’t they target me as soon as they see my Light?”

“Even if the enemy somehow knows the link between our powers and the color Light we use, they would have to make it through nine other soldiers before they even got near you. Even if we all die in the process, we have our mental imprints up here on the ship. We would all be Steel Cast by morning.”

“I would hate to be one of those things,” he said, just the idea of being made into one of them making a shiver run down his back.

“Why?”

“No sensation, no sense of touch or taste, no smells… just… existence.”

Thea actually laughed. “Do you really think they can’t feel anything? You honestly believe that the same people who designed Officer Hargrave’s body wouldn’t include some sort of sensory array? Jack, the only difference between humans and Casts is who you visit when you get hurt.”

“Really?”

“Yes really. Did you think that an Unranked Officer would live for a thousand years and not perfect his mechanical body?”

“Um… Kinda?” he said, scratching his neck and looking down in embarrassment.

“You’re an idiot,” she replied playfully. “A Steel Cast can even get laid. They have every single external body part that a regular person has.”

His mind drifted to a world where he could just go to the nearest Steel Cast shop and buy upgrades for his body. “That could get… interesting.”

“You bet it could.” Thea said, making him wonder just how she knew these things, “Albert knows all of this, but he dislikes Casts. Theresa says it has something to do with the Uncanny Valley or something like that.”

“I wonder why?”

“Rumor has it he never wanted to build that first body for Hargrave. Apparently, he thought building anything that so closely resembled a person was unnatural. It’s why Hargrave’s first few bodies were so… alien.”

Her explanation made sense when he really thought about it. If Albert had been so opposed to that first attempt, Jack wondered how he felt now that Steel Casts were nearly indistinguishable from humans.

“I think this is enough self-reflection for one night. Do you want to go make some more bad decisions with the rest of our friends?”

“Is a duck’s ass watertight?” she laughed, pulling him back toward the elevator.