"Face in the Mirror"

[Col. C.E. Harper 0]

"Face in the Mirror"

Harper Log 08.09.06

Psi Velorum system

Sometime after the riot...

 

Down on Psi Velorum, Lieutenant Staunton repressed a desire to hold his

nose. The lizard-like beings swarming over the face of this world

produced an array of scents from the pleasant to the putrid.

Unfortunately, in combination they were entirely unpleasant. Some of

his men were less disciplined; one sergeant in the back of the formation

gagged. She was elbowed sharply by her neighbors, and promptly

collected herself.

 

Staunton turned, glaring fiercely. "Sergeant Gallagos, either comport

yourself properly or report back to the ship," he snapped. "There'll be

none of that in my squad."

 

"Yes, Lieutenant," she replied, ducking her head slightly. "Sorry,

sir."

 

He huffed, irritated, and turned to regard the slaves they'd come to

deal with.

 

And slaves there were. They were packed together on this planet so

tightly it was a wonder they had room to move. Staunton considered the

best way to deal with these rebels. It would have been simplest to

simply bomb their cities; it would even have been merciful. Races had

been exterminated for lesser affronts to the Empire. But that was years

ago; today the Empire preferred to preserve lives and worlds where

possible, considering wanton destruction a waste of resources. The

labor of these slaves was more valuable than the tribute they had

withheld.

 

Selective damage would have to do, he decided. First make it clear what

he wanted from them, then destroy a few strategic buildings. Then he'd

send one squad out to round up a few of the lizards for questioning --

and execution, if they proved useless in any other fashion. A couple of

very public executions might be just the thing to motivate honesty.

 

* * *

 

The squads had barely shucked their combat gear when Colonel Harper

strode into the team room. A flurry of motion answered her arrival as

everyone hastened to stand and salute. One corporal dropped his rifle

on the floor in his haste. The clatter it made hitting the deck plates

seemed deafening, and everyone conspicuously avoided looking at him or

at the colonel.

 

Her eyes went unerringly to the hapless soldier, naturally. "Pick that

up," she ordered quietly. He bent to obey at once, though his fingers

seemed not to cooperate. Highly-polished boot tips appeared in his

field of vision; he straightened to find the colonel in front of him.

She held out her hands, and he surrendered the weapon to her.

 

Casually she turned the phaser rifle in her hands, fingers brushing

across its surface in search of cracks or dents. She raised it to her

shoulder -- thankfully pointing away from him -- and sighted along it,

then lowered it and flipped out the power cell with a practiced hand.

Satisfied with the charge, she closed it back up, turned it once more,

and then presented it back to him. He reached out to take it, but she

didn't relinquish her hold.

 

"This is your life, Corporal," she said, still quietly, but her voice

carried in the still room. "You do not treat it like any other tool.

You do not drop it; you do not leave it lying on a bench;" -- several

people attempted to surreptitiously check the benches -- "you do not

toss it casually into your locker. This weapon will bring you victory,

but only if you treat it with respect. It will save your life, but only

if you treat it with dignity. Do you understand?"

 

Nodding vigorously, he answered smartly, "Yes, sir, Colonel!"

 

She released the rifle into his hands. "Good," she said crisply.

"Disassemble, clean, and reassemble it, then do the same for your

squadmates' weapons. When it's in perfect condition, make it your best

friend." Her gaze bored into him. "For the next two weeks, Corporal,

you will eat, sleep, and screw with that weapon beside you. If I catch

you without it, you'll be on punishment duty for a month. If I catch

you treating it with disrespect, you'll spend that same month in the

Booth. Do I make myself clear?"

 

Mouth dry, he rasped out another "Yes, Colonel!" and tightened his grip

on the rifle. She held him under her glare another moment, then turned

away, to his intense relief and the immediate softening of his knees.

 

"So now that we've all had our basic training refresher," Harper said

lightly, strolling back towards the door, "let's return to business."

She stopped at the front of the room, letting her gaze travel over each

person in turn as they all held their breath and sweated. Among her

men, the colonel was known for being fair, even a bit of a soft touch --

in private. Let one whisper of embarassment touch the battalion,

however, and she was at once cold, forbidding, and merciless.

 

"Lieutenant Staunton." She crooked a finger at the man, who came

forward to stand at attention before her. "You have a discipline

problem in Charlie Squad?"

 

The other members of that squad tensed, while everyone on the other

squad relaxed just a hair. But Staunton's face was slack with

confusion. "No, Colonel," he said, his voice rising with just a hint of

question at the end.

 

"An isolated lapse, then?"

 

He blinked. "Colonel?"

 

One brow arched delicately. "You have a matter of squad discipline to

report to me, Lieutenant. One involving... Sergeant Gallagos, if I'm

not mistaken?" The woman in question blanched.

 

Brow furrowed, Staunton shook his head slowly. "Colonel, I can't think

of anything deserving of your attention, truly," he said. "I... I put

Gallagos on report last week, sir, but it was a matter... It was a poor

locker inspection, Colonel." He shook his head again, bewildered.

 

"Then why, Lieutenant, was I informed that you saw fit to reprimand the

sergeant while on-planet? There must have been a significant lapse to

merit such -- given my standing orders on the subject." Her eyes were

locked on his, and their blue depths held no mercy. She waited.

 

Staunton gulped, but lifted his chin and straightened his back. He knew

better than to protest the colonel's discipline, when it came. "No,

sir," he said evenly. "The reprimand could and should have waited to be

given in private."

 

"Remind me, Lieutenant -- why do I have such a requirement?"

 

"To uphold the dignity of the battalion, Colonel, and to reinforce its

unity before the slave races," he answered promptly. Protecting the

image of the battalion, and the Marines as a whole, had been drilled

into all of them early on. No weakness could be shown to the slaves who

must fear them.

 

Harper nodded gravely. "You tarnished that dignity today, Lieutenant.

You allowed an entire square full of slaves to see you turn on one of

your own."

 

"Yes, Colonel."

 

Her hand lifted, hovered above the agonizer on his chest. Only a slight

hitch in his breathing revealed his nervousness, and she smiled just

slightly. "The battalion's honor," she murmurred, and pressed the slim

badge.

 

At once he convulsed, back arching unnaturally far, while his face

twisted into a rictus of pain. His breath came in labored gasps, and

whimpers were dragged out from behind his tightly-clamped jaw. He

writhed beneath her hand, still pressed to his badge, and his legs gave

out, dropping him heavily to his knees. The fall broke the contact, and

she let it, withdrawing her hand and leaving him half-sobbing on the

deck.

 

"The battalion's honor, Lieutenant Staunton," Harper repeated coldly.

 

Slowly, painfully, he dragged himself back to his feet. A trickle of

blood slid down his chin from the lip he had bitten to hold back

screams. Trembling with the effort, he forced his shoulders back and

stood at attention before her. "The battalion's honor, Colonel."

 

The icy mask dropped, allowing a brief smile through, and she nodded her

approval. Taking one's due punishment well was a matter of honor, too.

Then she looked over his shoulder, to where Gallagos stood watching.

"As for you, Sergeant -- Marines do not show weakness in front of

slaves. You have punishment duty for a week. Lieutenant, make sure the

sergeant understands the lesson thoroughly before you release her to

normal duty."

 

"Yes, Colonel," echoed back to her from two throats. She nodded, then

waved a hand at the assembly. "As you were," she said negligently,

turning crisply and striding from the room.