“Walk with me,” he ordered.
“Aye, Sir,” I replied, and adjusted my position to be on his left, in the subordinate position.
“Your class did very well, Major,” he said. His tone was light and pleasant but held a hint of caution that made me wonder what he had in mind for me.
“Yes, Sir, they did very well today. The simulation was designed to place them in a near-impossible situation. I didn’t have all the details because I wanted to be surprised as well. The simulation programmers did a great job of adding the unexpected.”
“Indeed,” the colonel said as we turned right down another hallway.
I became a little worried because the only thing down that particular hallway was a few storage rooms, the communications hub, and his office. If we were going to his office, he had something important to discuss. Something he didn’t want anyone else to hear.
When we approached his office, the door slid open, and we walked inside. The familiar tidy space filled with small trophies and subtle pieces of religious iconography met my eyes as I stood to the right of the door. A large desk took up most of the space, and comfortable, non-regulation chairs sat on either side of his workspace. I’d spent plenty of hours in here before as I’d received orders and the occasional congratulation for success in the field.
“Please, have a seat,” he said.
I took the chair on the opposite side of his desk and set my helmet on my lap.
“I was very impressed with what your class has done,” the colonel continued. “You’ve trained them well, especially Sergeant Hadell. Did you notice the way he called everyone into battle?”
“I did, Sir.”
“It took a lot of humility to request your help.”
“It did, Sir. He’s becoming an outstanding leader.”
“That he is.” Colonel Goswin nodded thoughtfully, never breaking eye contact with me. “Tell me,” he said, “have you given any more thought to attending church with me this coming Sabbath?”
Oh, great… this again. I had to think fast. I could lie, which might just prolong the issue but wouldn’t crush the man’s hopes and dreams. Or I could tell the truth and risk insulting him and ruining whatever kind of friendship we might have now or ever. I liked the colonel, so I preferred lying to protect his feelings, but I also respected him and knew I’d feel bad if I lied. So, I decided on something in the middle.
“I have, Sir,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “I’m just not a religious person.”
His eyebrows went up a little, but at least he wasn’t frowning. “You don’t believe in the Void Gods?”
Before I could stop myself, I shrugged. “I’m not sure, Sir. There’s a lot that science still hasn’t explained. I’m not inclined toward belief in a higher power than Mars.”
That answer seemed to satisfy him. He stared at the ceiling for several seconds, nodded, and leaned back in his chair.
I wondered what he was going to tell me next. I disliked these religious indoctrination sessions. Sometimes, they’d last for an hour—him telling me everything he thinks he knows about his gods. How they lived in the “place” we call “hyperspace.” How they, through their infinite wisdom and power, seeded the galaxy with humans, their perfect creation. How they littered other worlds with aliens because they enjoyed diversity. What he never mentioned was the fact that we kill some species of aliens, like the Xeno, without mercy and how they do the same to us. Apparently, the Void Gods like war, too.
As the silence and ceiling-staring lingered, I filled the time with admiring the awards, holopics, and militaria decorating the gray walls of the plain office. The only thing even close to being out of regulation was the desk and chairs, which appeared to be made of real wood, not the synthetic stuff.
“Tell me,” Colonel Goswin said, pulling me back to the moment, “do you believe Sergeant Hadell is ready to lead his own team?”
“Yes, Sir,” I replied, “I do. He’s still a little green, but I believe he now has the confidence to grow his squad into an even more impressive fighting force. The simulation proved that he won’t fall prey to ego.”
The colonel lowered his gaze to me. “You remind me of my younger self. I was an ambitious Major many years ago. I helped found this academy.”
He didn’t ask a question, so I didn’t respond. Instead, I sat there in uncomfortable silence as I waited to hear what he had to say next.
“Good,” he said. “Because you are being reassigned to a new command. Your command.”
“Aye, Sir,” I said, doing my best to keep the shock and excitement from my voice. I’d been training other Marine squads for so long, I wasn’t even certain how the war was going. All I could learn was gleaned from the media and short security briefings. I wanted back in the action, and today’s sim had only made that more apparent to me.
“Where am I going, Sir?” I asked.
The colonel let out the faintest sigh and tugged at his jacket to flatten the wrinkles. It was the first thing I’d seen him do that told me he was uncomfortable in the conversation. “You aren’t going anywhere, yet. Your command is coming here.” He waited, probably expecting a question, but when I didn’t speak, he continued.
“You will be in command of a starship. We haven’t named it yet. I’m not sure we ever will.”
“Why not?” I blurted.
“Because it’s not one of ours. It’s a Xeno cruiser.”
My eyes widened at the news. I wasn’t aware we’d ever captured a Xeno vessel. The freakish ships were part machine, part organic, and completely terrifying. They had tech we didn’t understand, including portal generators. We were stuck with regular faster-than-light drives, which weren’t nearly as fast. The Xeno generators could open a portal in one area