Company Wars 01 – Downbelow Station

“Captain Mallory. What war are you fighting out there?”

“I don’t know yet, sir. I’m going to find out as soon as I can get my troops

aboard.”

“You’ve got Australia’s prisoners. Why?”

“Damon Konstantin’s one, sir. I’ll be back in touch as soon as I can get a word

out of Janz. Your leave, sir.”

“Mallory.”

“Sir?”

“Australia has two casualties. I want a report.”

“I’ll get one to you when I can learn what happened, sir. In the meanwhile I’m

dispatching troops to green dock before we have some sort of trouble with civs

over there.”

“India is moving forces in. Leave it at that, Mallory, and keep your troops out

of there. Off the docks. Pull them all. I want to see you at soonest, hear?”

“With a report, sir. By your leave, sir.”

The light and the contact winked out. She slammed her fist onto the console and

shoved the chair back, headed for the cubbyhole of a surgery in the half

corridor off from the main lift topside.

It was not as bad as she had feared. Di kept a steady pulse under the medic’s

ministrations, showing no signs of leaving them. Chest wound, a few burns. There

was a great deal of blood, but she had seen far worse. A chance shot, in an

armor joint. She stalked over to the door where Uthup stood, smeared with blood

from head to foot of her armor. “Get your filthy selves out of here,” she said,

herding them out into the corridor. “It’s going sterile in there. Who shot

first?”

“Australia bitch, drunk and disorderly.”

“Captain.”

“Captain,” Uthup said thinly.

“You hit, Uthup?”

“Burns, captain. I’ll check in when they’re done with the major and the others,

by your leave.”

“I tell you to stay out of that territory?”

“Heard over com they’d picked up Konstantin and Talley, captain. A sergeant was

in charge and they were drunk as stationside merchanters in there. The major

went in and they said it was off-limits to us.”

“Enough said,” she muttered. “I want a report, trooper Uthup; and I’ll back you

on it. I’d have skinned you if you’d backed away from Edger’s bastards. Quote me

on that where you like.” She walked off, through the troops in the corridor.

“It’s all right, Di’s in one piece. Get yourselves out of here and let the meds

work. Get back to quarters. I’m going to have a word with Edger, but if you or

any of the others take to the docks I’ll shoot you with my own hand. That’s my

word on it. Get below!”

They scattered. She walked forward to the bridge, looked about her at the crew

who had gotten to stations. Graff was there, himself liberally bloodstained.

“Clean yourself up,” she said. “Mind your stations. Morio, get back there and

interview trooper Uthup and anyone else in that detachment; I want names and

id’s on those Australia troops. I want a formal complaint and I want it now.”

“Captain,” Morio acknowledged the order.

He left in haste; she stood on the bridge and looked about until heads turned to

their work. Graff had left to put himself in order. She continued to pace the

aisle until she realized she was doing it and stood still.

There was the matter of showing up on Mazian’s deck. There was blood on her

uniform, Di’s blood. She decided finally to go and not to clean up.

“Graff’s in command,” she said brusquely. “McFarlane. I need an escort over to

Europe. Move it.”

She started for the lift, hearing the order echoing in the corridors. Troops met

her in the exit corridor, fifteen of them in full rig. She walked out through

the troops which guarded the access ramp on the docks. She had no armor. It was

a secure dock and she was not supposed to need any, but at the moment she would

have felt safer walking green dock naked.

v

Pell: Europe; blue dock; 1/8/53; 2015 hrs.

Mazian was not late showing up, not this time. It was an audience of two,

herself and Tom Edger, and Edger had gotten there first. That was expected.

“Sit down,” Mazian told her. She took a chair on the opposite side of the

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