dreamt of getting his friend back, only to lose him again. They probably put him in a mad house, he thought.
Taylor’s calm snapped, and he leapt up from his bed. He rushed up to the bars of his cage and whaled on them.
“Get me the fuck out of here! Get me out! Get me out!”
Chandra sat at the bottom of a muddy trench on the south side of the base. The occasional artillery round screamed overhead, but the line had become oddly tranquil over the last day. She sat with a mug of tea, treasuring the moment. She leaned back and looked up into the bright blue sky where there was not a cloud in sight.
Looking into the warm sky, she could forget for just a few moments about the desolate landscape around her that had been ravaged by the war. Few trees stood that were not blackened and burnt. The roads had been smashed by artillery until the concrete and mud beside it mixed into almost uniformed rubble.
The defences of the base consisted of miles of trench works and bunkers. They were the only cover that would be erected in time. She could hear footsteps squelching towards her. The floorboards could only stave off the worst of the rain that rarely let up for more than a day or two. The footsteps were light. Gone were their Reitech suits.
They were reduced to the same frightened troopers that huddled underground and prayed to only tackle the enemy in vastly superior numbers. They were nothing compared to their enemy, man for man. Friday strode into view with a smile on his face. He rarely showed any dismay or sadness. Perhaps he hid it well, she thought.
“Major, we’ve just been sent a request for a platoon to fetch and carry.”
She shook her head in disbelief.
“Will it ever stop?” she sighed.
“The General will get bored of punishing us eventually, I’m sure.”
She turned and looked into his face to see if he really believed what he was saying. Friday always seemed so convincing that it was hard not to believe him.
“Relay the order and have a platoon get on it.”
Friday turned to leave, but Chandra interrupted him.
“Captain, there’s no rush…”
He turned around to see she was offering him a mug of tea. He smiled politely. Chandra could see he’d wished it was coffee, and that made her grin.
“All these years, and we still can’t civilise you into the finer things.”
He took the mug and sat down beside her. He sighed as his body creaked from being on his feet.
“Any news from the US?”
“Bits and pieces, but you probably know more than me.”
“Na, my intel dried up a long time ago. You probably hear more around the mess than I get at briefings.”
“Then there ain’t a lot to say. Most of the major cities on the eastern seaboard are rumoured to have gone, and they’re now dug in like us.”
Chandra sipped back on her tea. They’d seen plenty of action the last few weeks, but nothing that came close to the seat of your pants fighting when Taylor was still around.
“You miss him, don’t you?” asked Friday.
She smiled.
“Not in that way, Captain. Life was a whole lot more interesting with Taylor around. We were always at the forefront of the fighting, and we were making a difference every day. What are we now? Reduced to line duty. We’re better than this, all of us, and wasted because a General got pissed off.”
“Would you take it back? I mean, Taylor’s mission. Would you have stopped him, having known what you do now?”
She shook her head.
“No, never! We had a responsibility to the comrades that had been lost. If the General couldn’t see that, then that is his weakness, not ours.”
“I hear it caused quite a stir among the Commanders, sounds like he didn’t get off lightly either.”
“That more scuttlebutt, Captain?” she asked.
Friday chuckled at her awkward usage of his services slang.
“No, Ma’am.”
Chandra took some pleasure in the news. She’d heard as such herself, but it was nice to have it confirmed. Schulz should never have forced Taylor and herself into the situation. But with Commander Phillips gone, she had little influence or ways of changing their lot.
“Word is that the Reitech suits are out for issue, reckon we’ll see ‘em anytime soon?”
“Fat chance, Schulz will make it his mission to ensure that we never see such hardware again. He wouldn’t want us to actually make any progress in this war?”
“Asshole.”
She nodded in agreement.
“Our time will come again, Captain. We can’t have come all this way to be relegated to the bench. The war is far from over, and we’ll be needed soon enough.”
A runner came hurtling down the trenches towards them. Monty appeared from around a corner and came to a quick halt in front of them.
“Ma’am, orders from command. They want a platoon to join a scouting party to the west.”
“Why the urgency, Private?”
“Orders, Ma’am.”
“Alright, relay them to Lieutenant Yorath, and have him follow out the orders.”
Friday turned to the Major.
“It’s alright, I’ll do it. Yorath’s been through enough shit. My platoon will handle it.”
She nodded in gratitude for his kindness.
“Alright, Captain. You want it, you got it.”
The heavy brig doors creaked along the corridor. Taylor knew the guards’ routine. The only reason for their presence now would be to bring in a new prisoner, or escort one out. He didn’t flinch from the position he lay in his bed. He’d been given nothing to read or to work his mind. Weeks passed with nothing to do but contemplate and replay recent events in his mind.
The sidewalls of the cell meant he could only see one other of the cages opposite him, but it was empty. He heard the wails of a few other prisoners held there, but they were mostly soldiers who had lost their minds. Four sets of footsteps approached. In his stay there, the Major had only ever heard two or three approach at any one time. He could already guess that their presence related to him.
As the steps got louder, the Major sat up in his tiny bed and rested back against the wall. He remained calm and slouched. He would never give those who detained him the satisfaction of feeling he was at their beck and call.
Two guards came into view and placed themselves either side of the barred door. General Dupont and his assistant strode up to the entrance and halted quickly at the bars. The Frenchman stared in at the Major with curiosity but made no request for the door to be opened. The four men stood before the bars of his cell as if waiting for his move.
“Can I do something for you gentlemen?” Taylor asked.
He knew that it infuriated the guards that he treated them like slaves. They rarely knew whether to treat him as an officer or a prisoner. They all knew that if he ever got out, and was cleared, he would make them suffer for any ill treatment.
“Major Taylor, you are well aware of the reason for your arrest and detainment,” exclaimed Dupont.
“Yes, what of it?”
“I am here to inform you that you will face a military tribunal at some date in the future and that it may become plausible and realistic to do so at a time…”
“Get on with it, General.”
Dupont sighed.
