Authors: Nick S. Thomas
As he entered the marquee, the music stopped, and the Mayor introduced him. He could tell the man had already drunk a good amount before the food had been served.
“Welcome to the brave Colonel Taylor! It is an honour for him to be with us this evening!”
Taylor waved off the Mayor and continued onwards to more familiar faces. The officers of Inter-Allied shared a table, and that meant leaving Parker at the door to find her own way. It saddened him to leave her on their night of celebrations, but he knew they had to maintain the divide between officers and the rest. It was a fact Jones was all to keen to remind him of.
“Come on, Mitch, join the exclusive club!”
He could already tell Jones had been necking wine for the last hour or more.
Wine? I’d kill for a beer.
As he approached, Charlie held out a glass of red for him. With the heat of the country and thick air, he wanted nothing more than something chilled, but he knew it had all been provided for them. He took the glass and turned to the Mayor, lifting his glass in gratitude.
Taylor knocked back a mouthful of the wine, and despite it being an ambient temperature red, it went down smoother than expected. It was soothing and warm, which was somehow comforting and relaxing despite the heat of the day.
“Just wait till the port comes!” yelled Charlie.
“Port?” asked Eddie. You decadent bastard!” he laughed.
Jones smiled and fully embraced the decadent nature of it.
He took a seat at the table and noticed the smell of the food being brought to the tables. It was fresh and oozing in flavour. They had returned to wartime conditions so quickly, but it had been a stark reminder of what they now had to endure. The prospect of a real meal was an immensely appealing idea even after a few days of MREs.
“Ahh, pasta!”
He knew exactly what Charlie meant and was starting to appreciate the occasion. In just fifteen minutes of good food and drink in a warm friendly environment, he began to see the lighter side of things and indulge a little. Halfway through the evening, the Mayor called for silence and stood up to address the people present.
His face was pinkish red and sweaty from the large volumes of wine and laughter. He wobbled slightly as he stood. That got a few laughs from the troops, which he also seemed to find funny. He started speaking to them in Italian but stopped himself halfway through his second sentence, realising their guests had no clue as to what he was saying.
"On behalf of our city, and our country, I wish to thank Colonel Taylor and the 2nd Inter-Allied. They have fought for many years for our safety and lands. For which ever country they fought in, whichever continent and even in space, they fought for us all."
Gallo was the first on his feet to clap and cheer. But speaking of the previous war was a reminder of how much work was to come, and how much more blood would spill. Many of the other Italians joined in the applause, but Taylor's people managed little more than a lazy clap. Manciolino called for quiet and could barely get any more words out, as he scoffed down half a glass of wine and held the other half up to a toast.
"To our friends and allies!"
It gained a round of applause but most were more interested in knocking back their drinks. He finally slumped back down to his seat.
"We're going to feel this in the morning," said Taylor.
"Yep, we sure are. But it's those poor devils who will be worst off," replied Jones, pointing to Gallo and his troops. "Tomorrow we start to train them."
Taylor smiled, thinking of the drunken Italians having to slog through his training drills the following morning. Drills he would let his own people forgo to rest from their recent duties. He got to his feet and was pleased to find he wasn't as far gone as some of the others. He walked over to Gallo who reached over to hug him. The short Italian struggled to do so, which only made him laugh.
"You said we'll be training you?" Taylor asked.
"Yes, and an honour it will be!"
"I hope you're ready then, 0800 hours we begin."
Gallo stood back with a puzzled expression. He looked as if someone had just cancelled the party.
"Surely not? This is a time for celebration. We have plenty of time to learn!"
"And if the enemy launch an offensive tomorrow? They start making raids against our landing zones, and we need to fight them off, what would you do?"
"But they won't. We have them boxed in."
"You think so? You think the enemy is completely predictable? Then you know nothing. 0800 hours, Major, have your troops formed up on the parade ground."
He turned and walked away, leaving Gallo speechless. Captain Grey had been watching and was clearly as sober as a judge.
"That was harsh," he said as Taylor walked by, causing him to stop.
He studied the Captain for a moment and was curious that he was not partaking in the festivities.
"Yes it was, but they need to be ready ASAP. No wine, Captain?"
"No, I saw a whole platoon in my regiment killed because they got into a liquor shop and went too far. Somebody needs to stay alert round here."
"There are sentries posted."
"Yes, but not ours. Theirs," he said, pointing to the Italians who were leaping around and making jokes with each other.
"Then you understand my position?"
Grey nodded. They both had to concede that the other was right.
"You haven't told any of us about this training tomorrow. I assume that means you were intending to do it yourself?"
"Yes, let our people have some time out."
"I'll join you. You need a task master, and that's just what I have done for my whole life."
"But you are an officer now."
"No excuse to drill them any lighter. I wasn't born an officer. Hell, I never asked to be one."
"But you've done a damn fine job of it."
"It's just the job of a sergeant with snazzier uniforms and better pay."
Taylor laughed and nodded in agreement. He'd always had respect for the senior NCOs of his unit, and most others he had met.
"You can join me, if you like. The help would certainly be appreciated."
"I will join you also."
Taylor recoiled slightly in shock to see Jafar standing behind them."
"Jesus."
"You see what I mean," added Grey. "I bet Jafar he couldn't get to within knife distance without you spotting him."
Taylor nodded humbly. It was a harsh lesson the Captain had played on him, and had it been almost anyone else, he'd have been less kind about it. Jafar still awaited his answer.
"Yeah, you'll be damn useful tomorrow. Can you get access to a Mech suit to use for training?"
"Yes," he replied confidently.
"Then it's a date. Time to shake these Italian boys up and get them into fighting shape."
* * *
Taylor looked at his watch. 0800 hours on the dot, and he could see Gallo staggering towards them. His face was pale, and he looked like he got gotten no more than two or three hours sleep. A hundred of his battalion followed him to the drill square. Grey was shaking his head at the display before them.
"Form up!" he yelled.
It was a booming voice that even Taylor couldn't manage.
They shuffled into a vague order, which Grey wasn't impressed with at all.
"Stand up straight!" he shouted.
Taylor lifted his hand to stop the former Sergeant Major before he reverted to old ways and tore them apart for their slack behaviour. Mitch continued.
"I am not here to be your drill sergeant, and I am not here to be your friend. I am here to make you the best you can be in a fight. To give you the best chance of survival in face of the enemy!"
He turned away and walked a few paces back to a doorway of one of the vehicle storage bays that surrounded the grounds. He hit the entry switch, and the door slid open, revealing a rack of Reitech equipment.
"I have ten suits here. These are spare units carried for our Battalion, so look after them. You may use them until your own arrive. I want ten volunteers!"
Despite their drunken and hung-over state, a flurry of volunteers stepped forward, eager to get their hands on the equipment they had all desired since first setting eyes on it. Mitch grabbed the remote for the dolly rack the equipment lay on and drove it out on the parade ground, pointing for the first ten who had come forward to continue.
They set on the gear like locusts and were quickly strapping themselves in. Many of those still standing watched, yawning and swaying from the lack of sleep and excessive drinking. The volunteers were ready within a few minutes, but as yet had no weapons. Taylor reached down to the dolly and pulled out what looked like the Assegai they carried.
"This is a training version of the Assegai. Same weight and size, but it uses an electric shock through your opponent. It will hurt a human, and even drop them to the ground if it hits bare flesh. To a Mech it will shock them for a second or two."
He passed out the training weapons and then walked over to another door. He hit the button, and it slid open almost causing a heart attack to half of the Italians. A full armoured Mech stood in the entrance. It was the closest they had ever been to one, and they were speechless.
"Don't worry, our own Jafar is at the controls. This is all part of the training exercise. Well, maybe you should worry."
Jafar stepped out into the daylight and stood with Taylor, who even though wore a Reitech suit, was half the size.
"The standard Mech suit is as heavily armoured as light reconnaissance vehicles and some APCs. Only well aimed close range fire can harm them with your current weapons. We soon learned in the first war that what you are using now simply isn't up to the job. I will not teach you how to fight the enemy with your old gear. It would be a waste of time."
"Colonel?" asked Gallo.
"What is it, Major?"
"This is a war of guns, bombs, and artillery, yet you teach us first to fight with, well, a sword."
Several of the Italians sniggered at the response, but Taylor didn't see the funny side of it.
"If you do go to war against this enemy, there will come to a time when you have to face them without a firearm. You mightbe out of ammunition, or not able to change your magazine in time. You may need to take them down quietly. Do not be under any illusions. This weapon was created out of necessity and experience. Think of it as equivalent to the bayonet."
"A what?" joked one of the Italian volunteers.
Taylor strolled up to the man. He looked down for his name, but it had been covered by the Reitech armour. He didn't care.
"You’re pretty confident for a man who's never had to face an enemy in battle. I wonder if the hundreds of thousands of young men and women killed in the wars with these aliens shared your same confidence when they met their end?"
The man did not reply.
"This is an enemy who should never be underestimated. The 2nd Inter-Allied have become expert at taking them on, and are now able to punch far greater than their weight would suggest, but that didn't come easy! We lost many friends to get to this point. We are here to help you the easy way so that you may not have to lose lives unnecessarily as a learning curve."
The man swallowed his pride and finally responded.
"Sorry, Sir."
"You will be if you aren't ready when your time comes. For now, you have volunteered yourself to go first. What's your name?"
"Rizzo, Sir," he said cautiously, as he looked at Jafar standing in the hulking Mech suit.
He handed one of the Assegai trainers to the man.
"The Mechs carry large weapons and may try to swing them at you at close quarters, but they are unwieldy. They are more likely to drop their weapons and use the power of their suit. Jafar will begin with open hands, whereas you have a weapon."
Rizzo seemed utterly shocked at the prospect of fighting the metal beast with such a small weapon and having to use his own hands.