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I log into the database and pull up the info he has requested. The list of every soldier registered at the base here in Sintaca hovers in the air in front of me. I am shocked to see how many of them appear red or blue. Red signifies dead, and blue signifies missing-presumed-dead. The list makes me feel sick.
“Insignia, give me the list in order of date of arrival on Armstrong,” I tell the AI.
Instantly, the order of names changes. Almost every soldier that has been here for any length of time is showing up red or blue. Poor bastards. This war has taken its toll.
“Okay, eliminate all the names of the dead or lost,” I say. The list instantly diminishes. Fuck, we’ve been decimated. “Send this list to Captain Kyltic Tyrel.”
For a moment, I consider trying to hack into Insignia’s private files and find out troop movements in the area. There is definitely something afoot. The place is buzzing like a Dangon flea market. But if I got caught, it would be an instant court-martial and I’d never get Sophia and her mother out of here.
“Insignia, close,” I say instead. The console instantly winks out. There’s no point in making problems for myself. I’ll ask around. There are plenty of new faces coming into base late. They know why they’re here, I’m sure, I just have to swindle more info out of the right person.
“Hey, Freck,” I call as I head to the canteen.
Freck turns at the sound of his name. “Hi, Drex,” he calls back, shooting me a smile and heading over.
“Any idea what the fuck’s going on?” I ask him as we make our way to the serving hatch. There is the usual smell of overcooked green leafy vegetables hanging in the air. But by comparison to what the civilians are getting to eat, we are doing well.
“Nah, there are a lot of big troop movements going on, that’s all I know.”
“That’s clear enough,” I say. “Look at this place, it’s heaving.”
“Sorry, everyone’s on half-rations,” says an old human woman serving behind the counter. “The base has suddenly doubled the number of mouths to feed.”
“Fuck,” says Freck, who lives from one meal to the next. “Do you think I’d get away with it if I lined up again?”
The old lady laughs. “Not a chance,” she says. “I remember every face.” I do notice, however, that both myself and Freck get bigger portions than everyone else.
“Thanks, Lucy,” he says with a wink.
“Go on, get out of here before you get me in trouble.” She smiles a crooked smile at us, and we move on down the line.
“Let’s sit over there,” I say to Freck when our trays are loaded.
“But we don’t know any of those guys,” he replies and looks wistfully at the two spaces being reserved for us at our usual table by our friends.
“That’s the point. I want to find out what’s going on.”
Freck glares at me. “It’s a pain in my ass being a friend to you sometimes, Drex,” he says. But he does follow me over to the table of new troops.
As we sit down, I notice how battle-weary they all look. Many of them are sporting fresh injuries and bandages. Things must be bad if people are being stitched up ‘old school.’ The medical synthesizers must be either overwhelmed or broken if they’re resorting to patching people up manually.
“Hi, I’m Drex, and this Freck,” I say to the guys closest to me. “Have you guys been on the front line?”
“I was at Saragon a couple of days ago,” says a big Shorcu servicewoman opposite us. “It was an annihilation. We didn’t stand a chance.”
“Shit,” I reply. “I saw the images of the Consulate burning. I didn’t realize the whole city had fallen.”
“They pretty much flattened the place,” says the guy next to her. He looks like a Golgrath crossbreed. “The Alliance didn’t give a shit about the citizens. Their sole objective was to get us out of there whatever the cost. And it worked.”
“I was at Angon the day before,” chimes in another battered soldier. “They were using the same tactic there. They didn’t give a flying fuck who went down as long as they got the city under their control.”
“Shintak’s tits,” I curse. “I assumed once they had Saragon, they would go easy on the civilians. Now I’m hearing two cities were destroyed in two days? That’s big.”
“It’s the same all over,” a small Kreetu at the end of the table says quietly. “I’m the only one left from my original unit. They came in the night with high-power plasma rifles. We didn’t stand a chance. When I escaped, I was linked up with another unit who were also fleeing the battle. The word on the field is to head here. But I don’t know if it’s a last stand or an evacuation.”
“I heard they wiped out an entire town with a force cannon the other day, they didn’t give a fuck who was on the ground there. One bomb, and no more problems with that town,” says another.
“But they’ve been careful not to damage the civilians up until now,” I stutter, thinking of all the good people I’ve met since I’ve been stationed here. Sophia, of course, who I already love with all my heart and soul, my fated mate.
