Chapter 23

"Sit down Private," he said.

I sat in the chair opposite his desk. It was a large wooden thing and spotlessly organized. I could see that it was old. It might have even predated the diaspora. General Bauer was an imposing man in person. The holos didn't really give you that impression. He was the Field Marshal's XO and he was the third highest ranking officer in the Marines.

"I'm going to be blunt. I'm not one for beating around the bush. You and I know that you didn't have anything to do with the white dragon's attack, other than capturing it. I know who you are and knew before our recent victories. Your file is one of the very few I keep up with. Most people like to ignore lifers. I know how you ended up here and don't care and probably would have killed the little pricks as well.

"You were in the first batch of lifers that went through augmentation. I wasn't even in the Corps then. Nobody still serving was either. This Corps has no room for those who don't or can't fight. They either retire or die. They learned and refined the technologies to enhance a human to survive class IV and later Armor on you lifers. You've had some time in the class III.

"They documented everything they did to you, or mostly did. I suspect that some things never made it to the official file. Some of you early ones were the best and have not been duplicated. It was too expensive and most likely accidental for the most part I think. The rest of the beta-testers are all dead. The lucky ones died fighting.

"I've talked to Lieutenant Swanson. Her loyalty to you is stronger than to the Marines. I understand that. You fight for each other, not because the brass gives you an objective. The bond forged in battle is the strongest, just short of a parent for a child or maybe that of a lover."

He paused then, watching me. I'd played this game before, probably more than he had, and just sat there passively waiting. He was trying to butter me up for something.

"I'd commission you if I could. The Field Marshall and the Commandant feel the same. You are a weapon. A weapon so perfect that I don't think there has ever been any like or will ever be again. You are the point of the spear. I suspect you know this, but Marines are going to study you for generations.

"I don't give a flying fuck how you walked away from what turned 14 veteran Marines, 7 Farans, the fucking bureaucrats, and other personnel into vegetables. I've reviewed the holos and logs. Swanson was zapped just like the rest. You snapped her out of it somehow.

"I suspect you know more about Lizards than every fucking egghead and analyst we have combined, at least on the parts that matter to winning this war. I don't know how or care. I don't want to know. I won't ask. Anybody who does ask, will fucking find themselves cleaning the hull of every fucking raider in the fleet with a toothbrush. Your trip through the underground is classified. I can't promote you. I can't retire you. What I can do is make fucking sure you are with your platoon, dropping and killing Lizards. Kill me a fucking million more. Your file is sealed except for your service record. The Commandant or the Field Marshal are the only ones who will have access to it other than me. I'll see to it that it is fucking destroyed if anybody else tries to unseal it. Veterans take care of their own.

"I need you to do what you did to Lt. Swanson to my Marines. Fuck the rest. They will turn on you. Your Marines are your brothers. Semper Fi.

"The Farans will cover for you. They are more loyal to you than they are to us anyway.

"Don't answer me. We are getting up and you follow me if you'll help. If not, go with my aide."

He promised a lot but his promises implied a threat as well. They always do. He left me with little alternative and if I did what he asked, I thought he would make good as well. It was the best I could hope for. Obscurity in my platoon with Amy, smashing stuff and killing Lizards was as good as my life could get.

I stood up and went out of his office. There was a captain there. She looked at me, turned and left without me following. Gen. Bauer led me to the sick bay. There were nurses and doctors all over. We had picked up a couple of master sergeants, who stood by the door.

"Everybody out. This is a direct order. Drop your shit and leave. Now. Anybody who is still here in twenty tics gets escorted out," he said, nodding towards the master sergeants.

There were surprised shouts and protests followed. There was a Navy captain who yelled the loudest but Bauer just looked at him.

"This is a highly irregular and I'm going to file a complaint and have charges brought. Control! Recall my staff and I'm placing General Bauer under observation for being unfit for duty."

"Requests denied, Admiral Johensen. General Bauer is senior officer on base and requires a quorum to place under observation," Control replied in its monotone voice.

Bauer nodded to the two master sergeants and they moved and gently escorted the Admiral out. The Sergeant Major of the Marine Corps was at the door now with the Farans. He made eye contact with Bauer and nodded, closing the door after the Farans were inside.

"Control. Protocol X74-U. Send all logs to my personal files."

"Protocol X74-U initiated and will be in effect until canceled."

"This is as private as it gets. Everything in this room is being redirected to my personal files. Only those two there can access them other than me," he said, gesturing to the Field Marshal and the Commandant.

I looked at the Farans, who were all intently watching me. Gizeel walked up to me and took my hands in hers. I was at least 40 centimeters taller than her. I noticed that her skin and was soft and it felt like I was holding the hands of any other woman. Her large green eyes looked up into mine and she was beautiful even if she was alien.

When our hands touched, I felt her in my mind clearly. It took seconds to communicate what I did for Amy. She understood the nature of our relationship and approved, thinking it fitting that those who saved them should be mates. I also felt her fondness for me. I was just as alien to her as she was to me but she was comfortable with that. She knew that for the most part human parings were exclusive and there was some regret even though there was no chance for any offspring.

I later learned that in Faran society men are found attractive for all the same reasons they are in human society, but with the added complexity of psychic strength, which apparently I had in a ridiculous amount.

Gizeel kept hold of my hands and spoke to Gen. Bauer. "We will need a little help. We need somebody who is very important to each one of these victims to talk to them. A child, wife, or someone equally close. They need to bring up powerful emotional memories. Good ones."

"I can provide lines to people for the Field Marshal and the Commandant, but the others I'm not sure about. I'll have somebody do some checking."

For the Commandant, they contacted his wife. Gen. Bauer explained in simplified terms what happened to her husband and what she needed to do.

Very little was coming from him, so I walked over to his bed with the Farans and touched his hand. It was very difficult to pick up anything from him. Mostly it was just impressions of confusion and fear. My connection with him was nothing like it was with Amy. I was not at all hopeful I could help him. The Farans echoed my thoughts. They could only get a connection to him through me acting as a relay of sorts.

His wife started to speak to him and he calmed a little. She was encouraged to talk about good memories. The births of children helped but were not powerful enough.

The Farans were watching what was happening by watching me. Gizeel was my voice and was pretending it was her who was leading the effort. The Farans encouraged Mrs. Commandant to share more intimate memories, the most powerful ones she could think of. Gizeel told her to describe the smells and tastes along with touch. It needed to be passionate and arousing.

His wife was reluctant but as she talked, he seemed to respond. It took a long time to find the right memory. We were at it for well over an hour. By the end of it, the Farans had taken the lead and I was only the tool. They had far more experience than I did and were certainly better at judging his responses than I. It was a birthday. His fortieth and their kids were with her mother. Their fourth child was most likely conceived that night. His mind became a little clearer as I spent time in contact with him. It was not the connection I had with Amy. It was much harder to 'remember' his memories.

For the Field Marshal, it was his wife as well but it was the memory of the first time they made love that snapped him out of it. I felt a little bit like a voyeur and hoped neither man would be angry about my invasion of their privacy.

Major Chenoweth was engaged to be married to a Fleet pilot. It took some time to track her down but luckily she was near a tangler and not deployed. She helped snap him out of it with some of the same that got Amy and the others. His team was harder. It took several days to track down people significant enough to each for it to work.

The Farans were very friendly with me. I don't think it was due to my witty charm or compassionate nature. They were fascinated by how I was different. When I wasn't with them in person, they were with me mentally. I found I liked them as well after I adjusted to the intense nature of their communication. The Farans were never 'in' my mind. It was not possible to delve into a person's subconscious. Only what you were actively thinking about was detectable. But that was much more than I realized.

There was more going on in the mind than most people noticed. The random or intrusive thoughts gave away much of what was in my consciousness. The Farans also were masters at getting me to reveal more than I realized. By either thinking of things themselves or speaking of something, they triggered thoughts and emotions before I could stop them.

It was all done innocently enough. Their culture took this sort of communication for granted. Farans did not have many secrets from one another. Only the more experienced or disciplined ones were able to keep much from the others. Doing so was not considered a good thing for the most part. They shared by nature. To not share was abnormal.

My ability to not share so completely was fascinating to them. They didn't understand how I did it and could not do so themselves.

Unfortunately they could not tell me why I appeared to be the only human who could read minds. They could tell me how it worked though. I only had time to get the basics. It was perhaps the most complicated thing I'd ever heard of, even if using it was as easy as blinking.

Amy was the only human I could read well. They taught me how to find her when she was not in line of sight. I also learned to determine which direction and how far she was in addition to any of the emotions from other people. For them, reading a person at a distance was easy. If they were close enough to pick up, then they were readable. Crowds were what could make it hard to read somebody. Being able to recognize a person's thoughts amid everybody else's was much like picking a single person's voice out of a crowd all talking at once. The larger the crowd, the harder it was.

It was a skill though. Gizeel assured me the more I used it the better I would get. She felt that I might one day not need to touch a stranger to read them.

When Amy and I finally had our conversation about me being able to read her mind, it was simple and anticlimactic.

"Thad, can you read my mind?"

"Yes."

"Okay. You need to share more with me. I want to know you as well as you know me."

"You're okay with me knowing your inner thoughts and memories?"

"Yes."

"Yes? That's it?"

"I love you. If I can't trust you with them, then who can I trust?"

"I don't deserve you."

"I think you do."

She later asked me more about it and I was honest even though I did not understand it.

It only took 32 more days to declare Gerta secured, for a total of 69 days versus the 202 of Ristlan. A few Raiders would rotate in and out for cleanup operations as remnants of the Lizard civilization were flushed out and destroyed.

We had cleared the planet so fast that Fleet was not ready to tackle another right away. They had repairs that needed to be finished and a new orbital defense system was not ready.

Instead, we got to go to New Mecca and watch them waste a planet from space. There was nothing for us to do, but they wanted a Raider along just in case. At the outer asteroid belt, they attached motors to some particularly large and dense rocks. Timing it so they all hit at roughly the same time, they drove them towards the planet. Each was roughly a cubic kilometer and each was going about 19,000 klicks a second. One was more than enough to kill everything on the planet.

The Republic of Aligned Systems did not want to waste people and resources on a planet that was not part of its territory. They would not leave it alone though. It was a fortified position of a known enemy and needed to be neutralized. To avoid the legal and political mess with invading and dealing with the New Mecca government in exile demanding the return of the system that RAS fought to recover, they made the choice to waste it from space. It solved the Lizard problem.

The Lizards did not even manage to stop or deflect one.

The planet was a fireball and would be for millions of years.

Bethlehem 3 suffered a similar fate.

We took part in the next five operations. The first three were the younger and more recently lost systems. Lantham 4, Cleev 3, and Seeng 4 each were taken in under sixty days. The battles were all fought using our new tactics. The old model of dropping and fighting until you had to get retrieved was gone. Retrievals and drops still happened, especially during the first couple of weeks as the surface was smashed. The fortifications and infrastructure that were on the planet surface had to be dealt with first. That was done using the old tried and true model. The main force dropped and, as they moved towards an objective, Force Recon went all directions smashing smaller but vital targets. We were often the ones retrieved after we wreaked havoc and caused so much chaos that a hot retrieval was necessary, especially if we had wounded. The pilots would drop the able bodied again, without leaving the atmosphere, at a new target or back with the battalion or regiment.

When we forced everything that could go underground to do so, everybody tried sending TBXs down the wasp tunnels. The success rate was very low though. Only about one percent made it. All of those were TBXs Whisky detonated. The wasp nests were dangerous, but that wasn't the issue. Nobody else knew which tunnel to send them down.

I did.

And I knew because I was communicating with the bugs. Oh it was unconscious at first and I was blissfully unaware, with the emphasis on the blissfully part. But then, as I liked to think, I was honest with myself and faced up to it. I could even make the bugs ignore me or us. I often did this and discovered that the Lizards were very reliant on the bugs for surveillance and reconnaissance. Worse yet, they would yield to my will and stay away. Once I even had a wasp attack a skink.

It was and wasn't the type of connection I had with Amy. The bugs were instinctual things, but somewhat domesticated or engineered. It didn't matter and I didn't care. I never got memories from them, only impressions or instincts. When Amy asked how I knew which tunnel was the right one, I couldn't tell her. I just knew. It was like asking how I knew which way was up. You just knew.

Getting a bug to attack Lizards was easy. However, as soon as my influence left them, they went back to ignoring Lizards and treating us as a threat. I had a brief idea of turning all the bugs against the Lizards and the war would be over. That was well beyond my ability.

Of course command wanted to know how we identified the correct tunnel. That was a tricky one to get out of. The eggheads were not happy with 'gut feelings' or 'experience' but that is what we told them. Amy gladly shared the scrutiny. She didn't do it for the glory, she did it for me.

Santiago later told me that the Field Marshal's office got the eggheads off our backs. The Field Marshal said that he didn't care if it was a fucking ouija board that directed us to the right one. All he cared about is that it worked.

A large unknown was looming before me. This war was going to end or at least radically change. When there were no more Lizard planets, would we look for more? Would we just wait for the next mother ship to show up? What came after? Did I stay on a Raider as a private until old age claimed me? It was not something I liked to think about and I said nothing to Amy.

My new found abilities changed me and I don't think it was for the better. Where I avoided getting close before, I now did my best to stay even more aloof. The FNGs I almost growled at if they got close. Whisky though surprised me. They provided a buffer, kept new people away and warned people new to the company to leave me alone. "Sweeney is your best friend in battle, but outside give him a wide berth. He'd sooner kill Lizards than talk to you."

I felt at once more alone and not.

I was a better killing machine now and I was a better person if you can be both.

I was closer to Amy than I had been to anybody in my life. My relationship with her provided me a deep fulfillment and sense of purpose that filled a void in me and soothed the demons inside.

I was no longer just a killing machine. I had love.

Sanchez and a few others were friends. I guarded them jealously when we fought.

The planets Alkala and Hosta were not very different. They took more time but the methods worked the same. They were 22 and 20 years under Lizard control but were not as resource rich as Gerta.

Tico would prove to be a different animal.

The causality rate was better. The odds of a Marine making it to retirement were still like those of a one legged man winning an ass kicking competition. I guess Society had changed more than I could understand. In my previous life, Veterans had definite advantages. The advantages were nice and I suppose worth the cost of getting them before the war began in earnest. I'd only lost about twelve years or so to time dilatation of the G-S effect. Not that it mattered to me, but an enlistment contract was measured in subjective years. Most Marines didn't lose the time like I did. It was common for Fleet personnel and I wondered how they dealt with it. It was just easier to keep my distance from the new people. They were young, dumb, and sort of alien.