The story of the Black Devils Squadron continues, with the Squadron reassigned to a weapons testing facility. But as Lance-Corporal Cameron Naylor struggles with his own personal issues, he must somehow put them aside to help save the lives of millions.

Soldier of Water, by Dar'z Swiftclaw

You may remember that last time we spoke, I was in a Dresk prisoner-of-war camp. I was there for seventeen months, and learnt much from my time at the camp. I was eventually released as part of a prisoner-of-war exchange, and returned to active service within two weeks.

You might think that with my new appreciation for the Dresk, I’d have no desire to fight them. But the truth is, that while my experiences in the camp had changed me, I was still a loyal soldier of the Empire. The changing of a person’s attitude is a slow process, and this was the catalyst point for the rest of my life. If only I had recognized that at the time, perhaps things would have been different. I cannot say.

The war was not going well when I returned to my squadron, the Black Devils. The Krel Republic had joined the war on the side of the Dresk, and their combined forces were driving our armies back. We’d lost key star systems along the front lines, and both the third and sixth fleets were in tatters. For the first time in the war, Star Corps had been forced to stop and think. With this re-evaluation of the war came a welcome respite for the Black Devils. Instead of sending us out to attack another enemy planet, headquarters sent us to a weapons development facility. Our role there would be to test new weapons under simulated combat conditions.

Although our platoon had suffered heavy losses since my capture, the Black Devils had survived. Sergeant Draper had been killed in the failed assault that led to my capture, and our squadron’s new Sergeant was a Canid from Mios VII. His name was Sergeant Garvey, and he was nothing like Draper. Softly spoken and with a keen intelligence, he ordered his men with a calm demeanour so different to that of the man he replaced. While Garvey was transferred to the Devils after Draper’s death, the Corporal I remembered from my seven months with the squadron. Corporal Barker was his name; although when I knew him he was but a lowly private. I was still a Lance-Corporal, and was put in charge of “C” section of our platoon.
The facility to which our squadron had been assigned was on a secluded planet deep within Imperial space. There was little danger of the enemy attacking here; that and its isolation made the planet Surakanos perfect for secret weapon development. The base itself was on a large island in the middle of an inland sea, with the only access via air. We set down at the spaceport on the mainland, and would fly across tomorrow. That first night we spent enjoying ourselves. It was the first real shore leave the devils had had in a year, and for me it was even better. For the first time since I’d joined the Corps, almost two years ago, I was free to do as I pleased. Although the Dresk had treated me fairly, I’d still been a prisoner. Aboard the “Lucy”, our old transport ship, I had been the prisoner of duty, always watched by my superiors. Now, the officers had formally turned a blind eye, and we were living it up. Music played and alcohol flowed to the small hours of the morning.

***
For three weeks, we tested out new weapons at the development facility. There were so many different weapons, I lost track. Among the weapons was a new type of gun for use underwater. Star Corps were particularly interested in seeing these guns in operation quickly to combat the threat of posed by the Krel Republic. The Republic was a coalition of several species, most of who could survive only in an aquatic environment. For this reason, we were trained daily in the use of the underwater rifles. These guns had been named after their inventor, a man called Wode, and given the experimental number XN-1. They consisted of an explosive dart propelled by a gas cylinder concealed in the stock. When the darts hit a target, the explosive charge in the base was ignited, driving the sharpened tip of the dart into the target at high speed.

The waters around the island proved a useful training ground, not just to test the Wode rifles, but also to train us soldiers for aquatic warfare. Our standard Ground Combat uniforms had sealed helmets with small oxygen tanks for use in poisonous or low oxygen environments. They were easily adapted to be used underwater. Although the suits were familiar, the combat was not. The weight of the water affected our movements, forcing us to have to re-learn to walk and run. An obstacle course had been constructed a kilometre offshore, and for four hours a day we practised here, before returning to the base for other duties. On the fourth week, we returned to the mainland, where we joined by two more platoons. The obstacle course was moved to the waters nearby, and we began an intensive training regime. Although we were also learning, because the Black Devils were several weeks ahead of the others the role of training the other platoons fell to us. This was an entirely alien form of warfare to us, but one that we needed to master quickly. Quicker than we thought, as we soon found out.

***
In addition to my duties training the new recruits, I was also undertaking officer training. I’d started this back on the Lucy, before my capture, under the mentorship of Lieutenant Gray. Gray was no longer the Black Devil’s commanding officer, having been transferred to Command’s general staff. However, my training with Gray continued, and I would spend two hours a week in front of a computer, video linked to Gray’s office, while my mentor discussed the role of a Corps officer. It wasn’t just work however; often we talked about trivial issues with each other. Gray and I had become friends while on the Lucy, and we continued our friendship after my return from prison.

Shortly after I’d been on Surakanos twelve weeks, Gray contacted me outside of our normal schedule. He looked worried. “Cameron,” he said to me, “Have you heard the news?” “What news?” I asked him. “The second fleet. It’s been completely destroyed.” I was completely taken back by this news. I knew that the second fleet had roughly seventy ships on its strength. That the entire fleet could be destroyed in one engagement seemed impossible. “How?” I asked Gray. “They got hit by a Dresk fleet of almost three hundred ships. Now that the Second Fleet is gone, those Dresk ships are now on a rampage through our territory.” Something about the way he said that made me stop and think. I knew Gray well enough that he didn’t call me just to tell me about the second fleet. There was something else on his mind. “What’s this got to do with me?” I asked Gray. Gray’s serious face broke into a smile for a second. “You’re learning fast, Cameron. I shouldn’t be telling you this, but here’s the catch. Command is planning to stop this invasion fleet by combining the ninth and seventh fleets. The seventh fleet is going to be withdrawn off the Krel front, and they need a diversion. Word is that’s going to be Ground Combat, and seeing as your squad’s got the most experience with these new underwater weapons, I’m guessing that means you.” “How do you know about the Wode guns? They’re supposed to be top-secret.” I asked, surprised. “They’re need to know, and I happen to be need to know. I helped select Surakanos for a training facility and I was the one who recommended the Black Devils for the job.” “I didn’t know that. Do you know when we’re shipping out?” I asked, returning to the matter at hand. “This was only decided an hour ago, but Star Corps will want to move quickly. I would expect you’ll be on the move within an hour or two.” Gray paused for a second, then said to me “Cameron, whatever Star Corps is planning, it will be dangerous. I just wanted to say, keep our head down and take care of yourself out there.”
I understood. Gray cared about me, enough to move my squadron off the battlefield and into weapons testing, safe behind our own lines. But unforeseen circumstances had thrust us back into danger. This call was Gray’s way of apologising, and also to say goodbye, just in case. I couldn’t think of anything to say, so I muttered, “Will do, sir.”

***
Gray had been right. Within two hours of his call, the Black Devils were in space, along with the other squadrons that had been training on the Wode rifles. Star Corps had sent a converted freighter to carry us for the mission. The freighter consisted of a long, thin rectangular body, with a command centre at one end and an engine cluster at the other. Usually, they were unarmed and carried goods that had been loaded by one of the bay doors that were on every side of the ship. Our freighter had hidden guns that could be readied for battle in under a minute, and could drop troops from its cargo bays.

Along with the freighter, Star corps sent two escort vessels. These were small patrol boats, some of the latest to come out of the Imperial dockyards. Along with the ships, the Corps also sent along Commander Hemsworth from Command, who debriefed us on the mission details. The plan was actually quite simple. Star Corps had learnt that a new Krel battleship was on its way from the Republic to join with a Dresk fleet. We were to intercept it, and while the patrol boats provided cover, the freighter was to latch onto the battleship’s hull. We’d then cut our way into the ship, board her, and attempt to seize control of the vessel. Once the ship was secure, Star Corps regulars would take over and fly the vessel to the nearest Krel starbase. It was expected that the chaos and confusion caused by a rogue battleship should enable the Seventh fleet to withdraw with minimal losses. Hemsworth didn’t tell us the reason for withdrawing the Seventh Fleet; I guess he didn’t want to cause a panic by mentioning the large enemy fleet loose in Imperial space.

I dared not tell anyone either, as I didn’t want to get Lieutenant Gray into trouble. He’d taken a huge risk in calling me; passing sensitive information could earn you a lengthy prison sentence or even the death penalty. Recently, security across the Empire had been tightened considerably, and the military had been given widespread powers to police the population. Stories and rumours of abuse and tyranny abounded, but the official military news service was quiet on the subject. Their bulletins usually dealt with reports of victories and other propaganda, but of late they had little to report about. We were losing this war, and everyone knew it. The failure of Queen Dahlia to provide her people with realistic facts was seen as another way in which Her Majesty’s regime was removed from the people. There was a growing thread of dissonance among the common folk, although many of the military remained loyal. To my shame, I can say that at that time, I too was part of that loyalist group. My actions, however, were prompted by more than just duty. Alone of my squadron, I knew the real reason for our mission. The lives of many of my compatriots were in danger, and I did not want to see them die. No matter my feelings towards the Dresk, they were still the enemy and I would defend my fellow citizens against them to my last breath.

Our current battle would not be against the Dresk however, but the Krel. They were an unknown quantity in this war. The Empire had always considered them a peaceful people who were no threat to our civilization. Yet their alliance with the Dresk had pulled them into conflict with the Empire, and had helped turn the tide of war in favour of the Allies. There was a lot we didn’t know about their military capabilities. This made our current mission all the more dangerous. Just how much of a resistance we would encounter onboard was anybody’s guess. We were entering the unknown and risking all in the name of the Empress.

***
There were no windows in the freighter’s cargo bays, so we didn’t know we’d intercepted the battleship until the captain called it over the PA. As I struggled into my suit, memories of the Lucy came flooding into my head. We hadn’t known what was happening then either, or what we were facing. But that was Ground Combat. Unlike the regular army, we had only one task: hit the enemy hard and fast. It’s a type of combat that Star Corps had used with great effect for many years, although the cost of life was high. Not for nothing was Star Corps motto “Conquer or Die.”
Sergeant Garvey recalled my mind to the present with an order to fall the men in. I dutifully did so, then presented arms with the rest of the squadron while Garvey and Corporal Barker performed an inspection. They checked the seals on our helmets to ensure they were airtight, and also inspected our rifles. The Wode XN-1 was fed by an ammunition drum forward of the pistol grip, and the drums had to be correctly loaded for the weapons to work. In addition, we also carried four extra drums of ammunition, a ten-inch infantry knife, weighted belts, and additional supplies of air. This was kept in specially designed bags that fitted into a pocket in our suits, and a valve on the bag could then be attached to a hose that delivered the oxygen to our breathing masks. The suits were lightweight and gave us full mobility, and were covered in a camouflage pattern of greens, yellows, and browns. The colour scheme was not likely to help us blend into the background of a Krel battleship interior, but it had been proven to break up the shape of our image and fool the eye for a short while. Time enough for a soldier to pull a trigger. In war, even a split second could save your life.

The ship rocked as it took fire from the battleship’s guns. This was a dangerous part of the mission, as the freighter had to get right up to the enemy vessel. “Nothing to worry about.” I assured my section. I wasn’t too sure of that, but there was nothing I could do. I simply had to trust in the skill of our pilot and the support of the two escort ships. So I instead concentrated on the red light on the wall. When that light turned green, our part in this mission would begin. In readiness, we were lined up in ranks in front of one of the cargo bay doors, which was on the floor. Six combat engineers, borrowed from the regular army, stood by with heavy cutting lasers and explosives. When the doors opened, they would cut through the hull of the battleship, and through we would go.

Garvey, who was leading the mission, ordered a final oxygen check. Just as he had confirmation that we were all breathing from the oxygen reserves in our suits, he told the freighter’s captain to vent the oxygen in our compartment. This was really it now. The freighter was positioned barely two metres above the battleship’s hull. As the doors opened, the engineers leapt through space to the larger vessel. Their powerful laser cutters, applied on full heat to the same area for several minutes, cut through even the tough shell of the battleship, designed to withstand the impact of comets and ballistics. . Within ten minutes, an area big enough for two soldiers to drop through had been cut through the outer hull. The layer of pipes and conduits underneath were easily cut through, leaving only the secondary hull. The engineers seared it with their laser cutters, then packed the hole with explosives.

The freighter had been hovering over the engineers the entire time, and now we sent down cables from the ship to winch them to safety. Once they were clear, the engineer’s CO flipped up the safety cap on the detonator and pressed the switch. In the vacuum of space there was no sound, and it seemed to me as if the world had gone into slow motion. I saw balls of flame spew from the hole, as the charge was ignited, and flying debris. A spurt of liquid flowed out into space and made the battleship look like a wounded beast, with blood pouring from an open wound. I did not have long to think on this analogy, because the doors closed again and the atmosphere was once again poured into the cargo bay. The freighter was set down over the hole we had made, and in my mind I imagined our ship like a Duranian spearbug, crouching over the wound. In a moment, it would release its larvae into the victim, where they would destroy from the inside.

Our moment came, and as the doors opened, Garvey tossed in two special smoke grenades that had also come out the development centre at Surakanos and worked underwater. Then he and his section dropped into the hole, two at a time. Barker’s section followed, and then it was my turn. I held my body straight and jumped, noting the burnt and twisted insides of the hull before I hit the water. I barely felt the impact, as my suit absorbed most of the shock. The heavy weights on my belt dragged me to the bottom. I couldn’t see anything through the smoke cloud, but I trusted to my radio and the well thought out plan to know where Garvey was and to follow him. The Empire had managed to not only obtain details of the battleship’s route, but partial schematics for it, including the floor layout. Using this intelligence, we knew where we were going. The Black Devil’s were to lead the assault on the bridge, while another platoon took control of the engine room. The rest would sweep the ship systematically, starting on the outside and working their way in.

What happened next was short, bloody and horrible. The Krel came for us and we slaughtered them, the darts from our guns ripping holes in their soft flesh. We killed everyone onboard, with no regard for position, armed or unarmed, hostile or surrendering. Our orders were explicitly clear; No prisoners. We cleared the ship of Krel in five hours, then departed, our part in the mission done. We were now bound for Bovis, where we would receive new orders. But what those orders were, and how they would affect my life, is a story for another time.