Chapter 13: Choice Ladies - And Ladies’ Choice

“Command Sergeant Major Rebecca Vesey?” asked the man when the compact, steely-eyed woman answered the knock at her door. He was accompanied by another man in the uniform of the Confederacy and a short, young woman with brilliant green eyes. “I’m Michael James. I called earlier. May we come in?”

“Please, enter, but I don’t know why the Confederacy is here. They made it quite clear that they have no use for me!” Her response was bitter.

“Pardon, I’ll explain in a moment, but is First Sergeant Patricia Paiwonski here?” She should hear this, too.”

Another woman, almost a carbon copy, entered the room and stated, “I’m Sergeant Paiwonski.”

Michael stepped forward, hand extended to shake, then swept it to his companions, “This is Major Sam Anderson of the Confederacy Marines and Katie James of the Confederacy’s Office of Targeted Exactions. And yes, she is my cosponsor-wife.”

“Wait a minute,” interjected Vesey, “I thought marriage ended with extraction!”

“Well, our marriage occurred after extraction,” Michael explained, “but if you come with us, you’ll see we find a way around or straight through a lot of rules. If you’ll look at this for a moment, I can tell you what is going on.” He handed the women small electronic gadgets that seemed to fascinate them for a moment or two. When they recovered, he continued, “that dingus injected nanites that will prevent your revealing what we discuss to anyone not present in this room. Sorry, but it was necessary.”

Vesey motioned her visitors toward a sitting room and indicated they should sit. Then, she and Paiwonski seated themselves on a sofa across from them. “Come with you? Okay, no more games! What’s up?!”

“The war against the Sa’arm is being masterminded by a bunch of REMFs, only they aren’t just in the rear, they’re every-fucking-where! The Darjee behave much like semi intelligent chickens, and their AIs are little more than super sophisticated adding machines.” Michael wasn’t quite on a rant.

“Picture your battlefield where every ship, every plane, every soldier has a REMF riding her shoulder - a REMF unable to pull a trigger, but second guessing every action, every decision, every plan before it can be put in action. We may well win this war, but the Confederacy’s only positive contribution has been technology - obsolete and not purpose built at that.”

“It isn’t so much the fighting decisions, that’s bad enough, but every personal relationship has some clueless birdbrain kibitzing or actively injecting itself.” He paused and held an object on his knee. “At least one other member race, the Tuull, are concerned about the way the Darjee are handling us. Let me introduce you to another player in the game.”

From the box, “Greetings Command Sergeant Major Rebecca Vesey and First Sergeant Patricia Paiwonski, my name is T’Kleeoran, but Governor James, his family, and his associates call me Dora. I am a Tuull AI.”

Dora explained the Tuull concerns about the conduct of the war, and especially that the Darjee were creating a segment of humanity that might be as much a threat as the Swarm. “The Tuull - you would call them the ruling council -- decided on an experiment to see if humans could both fight off the Sa’arm and become true friends and allies with all of the members of the Confederacy. Michael was selected to be governor of the colony founded to that purpose. The ‘why you?’ was his decision.”

“Well, not entirely,” Michael jumped in, “Our planning council - did I mention that Katie heads our strategic planning - determined that we need a strong military training effort. We can’t just be a goodie-two-shoes breeder colony - that proves nothing. We think the AIs have helped breed out aggression from the Confederacy’s races, and they don’t need another set of wimps. The colony needs to develop a highly ethical, highly capable military force to be reckoned with.”

Michael paused and looked into the eyes of each woman before continuing, “We gave Dora the selection criteria. She scanned the CAPs of everyone tested but remaining in the Earthat system and pointed us at you two. That the two of you are already a partnership is a decided bonus.”

“But we can’t have babies! They don’t want us!” from Sergeant Paiwonski.

“The Darjee don’t, but we do,” answered Katie. “Planning - that would be me and a couple of others I hope you agree to meet - recommended exemptions to the baby producing rule for certain needed skills and experiences. Let me enumerate yours,” she ticked off on her fingers. “Each of you retired with thirty years of service. Between you there are more medals than is usual for an entire battle tested platoon - and not just participation salad. You both have led in infantry, armor, and air assault combat. You both have training experience - drill instructor through various senior leadership courses. Your CAP sub scores show that your moral compasses point in the direction we need. AND! You both are experienced mothers and grandmothers.”

Katie grinned at their shocked expressions, “Yes, ma’am, we think having seasoned grandparents is worth foregoing a few baby factories. We’re looking to rear quality sponsors not a batch of also-rans. Actively involved grandparents can help us with that goal. You would be expected to act as grandparents to children and young mothers who are about to be overwhelmed with raising kids.”

“Cut to the chase!” demanded Vesey. “Why would a colony governor drop in on two worn out ex NCOs? What would our jobs be? There have to be a lot of retirees like us, so what makes us so special?”

“For the first,” Michael spoke, “Competent officers always consult with their senior NCOs before undertaking, and you would be the colony’s senior NCOs reporting to Major Anderson with a dotted line to the Commander of the colony’s Merchant Academy. I want an open relationship with my senior NCOs right from the start. Sam, your ball...”

“Don’t get your shorts in a knot over what I’m going to start with. You are correct that your experience and qualifications are not unique, but face it, your male counterparts aren’t firing blanks and almost all have been extracted. The Darjee prejudice is our gain.”

He smiled at their grimaces and continued. “Now, lest you think you’re considered second best, you’ll learn different. Michael’s family has the most competent gathering of women you’ve ever seen. All over Luna, they are known as THE harem, and they kick ass big time. I confess that he’s convinced me that male prejudice has systemically overlooked some of the best qualified individuals available - just because they are women.”

“Our TOE (Table of Organization and Equipment in the military) hasn’t been completely nailed down - I’ll need your input for that - but you will both be in my HQ section. You can look at the staffing we have and are planning at any time.” He looked at the two women to see if they were interested, and they were. “I will add that, for this colony, the military is pretty much the only organization with formal chain of command. You’ll find Michael’s staff pretty fluid in leadership depending on the mission at hand. Katie, there, is also the top Civil Service officer for the colony. Did we tell you the initial shipload will be nearly a quarter of a million colonists? That’ll be both a big deal for everybody else, and a big job for her.”

“So, personal considerations,” Sam switched subjects. “You’ll undergo a CAP retest, mostly to confirm what we already know, but expect your scores to increase. Only Dora will know your actual scores. Total CAPs and sub scores are important to qualify for extraction to the Harrad colony and to determine the appropriate number of concubines. But in other colonies, there have been too many instances of hen pecking and status issues over decimal places in CAP scores.”