Wolves
Propaganda

“Daynumber 117 of my service in the Galactic Armored Marines. Private logentry. Things've been...rough, around here. Since the missions withthe 122ndbattalion, I haven't been the same. Can't say any of the other guyshave, either. After we took out the outpost on Joedo-12, Rank Alphaordered that we eliminate a Nektro mining facility, some two days'travel away. We did, but...only me and the other members of DeathSquad came out alive. Icarus and the rest of the platoon died there.We had one pilot in the hypercruiser taking us back to theIndefatigable,where I am now. I wanted to take somethin' up with Captain Vault,about the dropships I shot down near the outpost, but I've decidednot to. It's not worth it. Apparently they were just coming toestablish some sorta colony. Anyway, we're on a course for Neptunenow...some public meeting with us or somethin' like that. I don'tknow. Either way, I figured I'd log it in. Y'know, in case somethin'bad should happen to me. Alright, end entry.”

Trawsat back against the metal wall in his quarters. He let out a deepbreath. A grizzly beard had overtaken his face, and his eyes wereheavy with fatigue. Leaning over, he touched the picture of Luellaand Louise on his wall. To him, they were a memory: nothing more. Hehad been assured by Admiral Venko himself that in about four months,Traw would be able to see his family again for a day while onvacation. Four months seemed like the longest time in all the world.That is, if Venko was even tellin' methe truth,Traw thought to himself, his eyes narrowing at the notion.

Twelve knocked on the door. “Enter,” Traw ordered,and the door slid open.

“Your evening meal is prepared in the dining hall,sir,” Twelve notified, his voice gracious and smooth.

“I don't feel like eatin',” Traw dismissed, lookingaway.

“Sir, you must eat now, due to scheduling aboard thisship, or you will not--”

“Shut the hell up!” Traw barked, turning about.Twelve did not back away or show any sign of aggression. He justremained there, as if nothing had happened. “I'll eat when I wantto. Now just...get out.”

Twelve paused a moment, as if computing something. “Asyou wish, sir,” he granted with a slight bow, then departed. Thedoor closed, leaving Traw in the cold gloom. He knew he had to leavesometime for food. He had to maintain his strength. For six hours hehad been in his quarters, sleeping or thinking or gazing at thestars. He wanted to do nothing else. Something addled his mind.

Reluctantly, Traw straightened his suit and walkedtoward the door. He paused before opening the door, slightly turninghis head to look back at the picture on his wall. He didn't quitelook at the picture. Setting his jaw, he walked out of the room andclosed the door in his wake.

Standing in line in the dining hall, Moore asked Traw,“Which one of these girls would you hit, if you didn't have awife?” Moore's eyes were slim as he scanned the crowd, like apredator stalking his prey. Traw hesitated for a moment, disregardingthe question. Then he looked up at the milling crowd, glancing about.His eyes fixed on one of the female officers. Her dark brown hair wastied back in a bun. She had eyes of hazel, and a soft nose and chin.She almost looked like Louise, he reckoned.

“Maybe that one,” he answered, pointing discreetlyto her.

Moore grinned upon hearing his team member's reply.“Yeah she's pretty hot,” he agreed, his gaze tracing her from upto down. “Maybe we could arrange somethin'.”

Trawfiled away the thought, then grabbed his food tray from the counterand shuffled along. He thought for a moment about his wife. Then hethought of Luella. They'd never know ifI ever did anything like that here, hereasoned to himself.

He looked at her once more, and their eyes met for abrief moment. She smiled as if he had just complimented her, and helooked away with a sheepish expression. Aveer, who was sitting acrossfrom Traw, noticed his playfulness with the officer. He looked behindhim, turning his broad-shouldered back, and the girl looked down ather plate, as if returning to business. Aveer looked back at Traw.“Wife is no longer a priority?” Aveer wondered, though hesuspected the answer would not be revealed so easily.

“It's not what it looks like,” Traw dismissed,arranging a forkful on his plate. “She just looked over at me.”

“I hope it stays that way,” Aveer mentionedforebodingly, turning his face down to his plate. He paused for amoment, collecting his thoughts. “In my village, we have atradition. If a man lies with another woman and they are not bound bythe seal of marriage, he must serve her father for ten years andnever touch her again. And if she becomes pregnant, he has to killthe child himself. With his bare hands...you don't want to steep intothat kind of mire.”

“I ain't gonna have no ruttin' sex with her,” Trawsnapped, pointing his fork at Aveer. “Just...back off. Don't thinkyou know what's goin' on inside my head.”

Aveer rubbed his tongue along his teeth and proceededto eat his meal. He didn't say another word to Traw.

TheIndefatigable toucheddown on the surface of Neptune's capitol ground, with a host of farsmaller maintenance ships surrounding it and going about theirroutine duties. Vault and the Death Squad were escorted to a dropshipwaiting near the border of the dockyard, after no small deal ofshuffling through thick crowds.

Sitting in the first class cabin of the dropship, theDeath Squad members were dressed in their ceremonial uniforms. Noneof them were comfortable. “What's this whole press conference thingabout?” Sanchez asked, trying to settle into his suit.

Vault, who was reading a book across the aisle fromthem, answered, “Just a bit of questions from the local media foryou guys. Pretty much all you have to do is give answers that makethe GAM look good. After that, the top brass has arranged for someevening entertainment for the team.”

“Are we gonna get to see our families?” Trawinquired.

“Considering they're all on a cruise on the otherside of the planet...no,” Vault answered. “Sorry. I did what Icould to arrange something. Commander General Venko insisted thatthey go.”

“Why now, though?” Traw insisted on replaceing out.“Wasn't this conference planned? He'd know that we were coming.”

“Just...stop asking questions,” Vault dismissed,leaning in. His voice lulled to a hush, and he closed the door to thecockpit, where two pilots were controlling the aircraft. “I don'tknow either, alright? Something's up with Venko, and I don't knowwhat exactly that is. But it isn't good, I'll tell you that much.Don't trust him. Ever.” Vault returned to his book, burying histhoughts into the pages.

Traw took a long look at Captain Vault, partiallylingering on the man, and partially on his words.

The dropship landed in the main hangar bay of the GAMtower, which was desolate. On their way in, Traw noticed the leftoverscorch marks from the insurgents' attack when he had first came tothe tower. The Death Squad stepped off the landing platform of thedropship one by one, each of them recalling their own experienceswhen they entered the tower for the first time. Only Traw showed anysign of it, though.

As they approached the center elevator, Traw heard themuffled sounds of media clamor coming from within the large elevatorcabin. “Haven't faced worse than this yet,” Sanchez joked.“Nektro ain't got nothin' on these reporters.”

The elevator doors opened wide, revealing a gaggle ofreporters and cameramen, each of them as obnoxious as the the onebeside them. There was a myriad of probing questions such as, “Whatwas your most intense experience during your service so far?” and“Is there anyone special waiting for you here on Neptune?”

None of the men replied.

Confined to the elevator cabin with the small mob ofmedia representatives, the Death Squad members began to feel theywere developing a quick case of claustrophobia. Finally, after whatseemed like an eon, the doors opened to the conference room, wherethere were ten times as many reporters and cameramen anxiouslyawaiting the arrival of the men. Traw was grateful the room wasspacious.

Having to budge through the crowd, the men took theirseats at the end of the room, on a raised platform. Traw scanned thecrowd and estimated there to be somewhere around a hundred mediaworkers, each of them eager to get just one quote or photo for theirrespective companies. About half a minute after the Death Squad hadentered the room, Commander General Venko walked in, clothed in hisfull ceremonial uniform. He bade the crowd the general waves andpolite shaking of hands.

Traw watched Venko's every step, sensing somethinginsidious about him. He wasn't sure how he came off, so he tried tomaintain a poker face as the focus of the reporters shifted back tohim and his team.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming on thisfine afternoon,” Venko greeted, stepping onto the platform.“Please, take your seats.” It took some hesitation, but the crowdeventually sat down. Albeit, they sat on the edges of their chairs,microphones and cameras at the ready. “This, as many of you know,is the Death Squad. They have served for four months now as a specialoperative team, executing high-risk missions across the galaxy inguard of the State.”

Everyone enthusiastically clapped and gave their thanksin the form of clamor. Traw looked down at the table, unsure of howto respond. Clayton did the same, then glanced at Traw. Moore waswaving and smiling falsely, even winking at a few of the attractivefemale reporters in the front row. Aveer forced a polite smile, butTraw had worked with him enough to recognize he was uncomfortable.Even still, he made an effort to look at the crowd, whereas Traw felta bit guilty for not doing so. Sanchez grinned smugly and gesturedwith his hands, signaling the crowd to give him more applause. A fewof the ladies bit their lower lips and began to chatter among eachother.

“Great group of fellows, am I right?” Venko laughedas the applause finally began to die down. There was a short encoreof hoots and claps, accented with a few spots of laughter. “Sowe'll be taking questions from the front row, then work our wayback,” Venko told the crowd, pointing to the first row ofreporters. “We can only take a couple questions from each row, sowe'll just point to you and tell you to answer. No blurting out, fortime's sake. You in the front, go ahead.”

A stocky man in a slick suit rose from his seat,sliding his hand along his thinning hair. Raising his microphone, hesaid, “So I'll start with the obvious question: how was your timein the GAM so far?This is directed at any of you, really.”

Sanchez began, “It's been really great so far. Theguys on our ship've been great, ah, super helpful. Venko here's asuper nice guy, I like him a lot.” Venko grinned, looking at hisfeet. “I, ah, I recommend joinin'. It's an experience you don'twanna miss.”

Moore chimed in, “Yeah, and the girls are super hottoo.” There was a wave of laughter from the crowd.

“Well, I'll be sure to sign myself up then,” thereporter joked, sitting down. “Thank you, gentlemen.”

Venko nodded to a female reporter in the front row. Shestood erect, holding her microphone with a hand like wire. “You,sir, with the long hair,” she called, pointing to Aveer. Hepositioned himself to her, taking a deep breath. “Yes, I have aquestion for you. What would you say is the toughest experienceyou've had in the GAM?”

Aveer thought for a few seconds, stroking his grizzledchin. “You never quite know what you should expect, going into war.There is no beauty in it. I have seen things...I would not wish uponany of you to see.”

“Can we get some details?” the reporter inquired.Traw reckoned she was either aware of his discomfort, or simplydidn't care.

Aveer set his jaw. “Corpses...” he muttered,looking at the tabletop. “Many corpses.”

“Can we have any more..” the reporter continued,taking a step forward.

Then she was interrupted by Traw, saying, “We've allseen the same stuff. No need to try to get inside this fella's head.”

“Do you have anything to say?” the reporter asked,turning to him eagerly.

“Not to you,” Traw sneered. “Who's next?”

The female reporter sat down, a repulsive scowl acrossher makeup-coated face. At Venko's pointed finger, a different womanin the second row stood up. She had a softer face, her features lessenhanced by makeup. In a petite voice, she asked, “Do any of youhave families waiting for you when your service is over?”

Traw instantly thought of his wife and daughter.Clayton mentioned, “I have a younger brother waiting on my planet.I don't know if you're watching this, but I'm thinking of you,Thomas. It'll be alright.”

“I got a wife and daughter. They're on cruise rightnow here on Neptune, or so I've been told. Louise, Luella...staystrong, dears. I'm gonna be back real soon,” Traw said, lookingstraight into the camera's lens.

“Any of you other gentlemen have something to say toyour loved ones?” the reporter wondered, turning to the other sideof the table.

“No comment,” Aveer muttered.

“My brothers back in the Las Doreson,” Sanchezmentioned, pointing into the camera. “When I get back, we're gonnabe kings.”

Moore stood from his seat and gestured at the reporter,glancing at her bare hand. Nothing gold glinted on any of herfingers. “Come on up here, little lady,” he beckoned with a smugwink. With blushing cheeks she made her way up onto the platform,stepping up the short stairs with her petite stiletto heels. Mooretook a couple steps closer to her, then looked at the camera boldly.

“I'm livin' for one man in this whole galaxy: hisname is Bruce Moore, and you're lookin' at him,” he told the crowd,then grabbed the reporter and kissed her. There was an array of gaspsfrom his audience as he would not release her from his embrace.Finally he let go of the stunned reporter, and she staggered back onestep, blinking rapidly and breathing as if she had seen a ghost. “Youand me are goin' back to my place after this, alright?” hewhispered to her, leaning in close.

She nodded, unsure of what to do or what just happened.Heart thumping, she went back to her seat and, straightening herattire, sat down in a professional manner. Moore slumped into hisseat, grinning smugly at the crowd and leaning his elbows onto thetable.

“What just happened?” Traw muttered jokingly toAveer, who was sitting next to him. Aveer chuckled for a moment.

There was a following forty-five minutes of additionalquestions and personal inquiries as to the experiences and lives ofthe Death Squad members, then the meeting was adjourned and the roomcleared out with haste. Venko and his small company of guards andofficials lingered a few minutes after the exodus of the crowd.

“Good work,” Venko complimented the men. “Sanchez,I liked that bit about the GAM. Nice promotion tactic. Moore...thatwas something else. You're gonna have to go back to her house though,because barracks are off limits to civilians.”

“Whatever you say, boss,” Moore grinned, pickinghis teeth.

“And Traw...” Venko muttered, turning to him.“Lighten up a bit. That whole dark wolf stuff's gotta stay behind.It makes us look bad.”

“Sorry for standing up for Aveer and taking on thatpushy reporter,” Traw snarled, clenching his fists. “Sorry forsticking with him like a team member. Maybe we can do more than juststop each other from being shot by Nektro, huh?”

“That's enough,” Venko scolded with a chillingscowl. “Leave, the rest of you. Including my staff. Traw and I aregoing to have a word.”

Venko's personal staff filed out of the room withoutquestion, assembling in single file flawlessly with their handsfolded together behind their backs. Sanchez and Clayton left, theirheads low, dodging Traw and Venko. Moore looked Venko over like hewas scanning him. He seemed almost critical of the Commander General.Moore left the room without a word. Aveer stood by Traw, glowering atVenko with eyes that did not blink.

“I said leave,” Venko ordered again, maintaininghis cool composure.

Aveer looked at Traw. “Go ahead,” Traw assured in alow voice, then continued his silent staredown with Venko. Aveer leftthe room, leaving just the two men.

“What's your real agenda, huh?” Traw inquired aftera few moments of dead silence. “It's pretty goddamn clear you ain'tout for the good of the State or even the GAM. I can tell when menhave a night business. There's a lot of skeletons in your closetright now, Venko.”

Venko furrowed his brow. “I don't know what you'retalking about,” he stammered, almost indignant.

“Like hell you don't,” Traw snarled, taking a stepcloser. “Don't think I'm an idiot just 'cause I come from thebackwater of Sino. What you're doin' makes one hair stand up on theback of my neck, and don't think I'm gonna hush down for a few extrakaoris in my wallet.”

Venko took a step forward in reply. “You rushheadlong into dangerous situations for a living. It would be mostunfortunate if you were to die in combat, or if you were captured bythe Nektro. Though, it will be a tragedy none will replace unusual.”

“I don't fear death,” Traw grinned withdetermination in his features.

“I know,” Venko smiled insidiously. “You have awife and daughter, though. They are most vulnerable, as you areaware. Since you signed onto this job they have been within my grasp.Wouldn't it be a shame if they were on a cruise, and it was attackedby pirates this very day? They would undoubtedly be raped andmurdered, or even captured, followed by more raping, and then, whenthey are treated like the disposable objects they are, they would beshot dead in the back of some ship and ejected into the cold void ofspace. And you know who'd hear of it? Not a soul.”

Traw set his jaw, breathing through his nostrils. “Youpiece of shit!” he roared, grabbing Venko by the collar andthrowing him onto the metal table. Venko winced as his head bangedagainst the tabletop. “If you lay a hand on any of my family, Iwill personally come and tear you apart. You don't know hell yet. Iwill give it to you.”

Venko, almost smiling, replied, “No you won't. I'm atthe top of the pyramid. You can't touch me.”

“Feel me say otherwise,” Traw sneered, pulling backhis fist. Suddenly he felt four burly arms pull him back from hisdamaged opponent. Two of Venko's personal guards were restrainingTraw, who made little effort to break free. He was strong, but theguards were enhanced with a serum, like all the other bodyguardsVenko had. No one of untampered physical strength could face one ofVenko's bodyguards and win: let alone two of them.

“I'm willing to keep these grounds for court martiala secret if you're willing to lay low about your little conspiracytheory,” Venko told Traw, straightening his suit and stroking hisown bruised neck. “Are we at an understanding? For the sake of notonly you, but the ones you care about?”

Traw knew if he was court martialed, all funds from theGAM would be severed and his family would be in financial andemotional peril. “Fair enough,” he agreed. The bodyguards let himloose. Then he remembered something. “So those pirates...do theyhappen to have a name?”

Venko thought for a moment. “You know them,” hetold Traw cryptically, then walked out to the dropship waiting on thehelipad outside. He stopped at the glass door, holding the metalknob. “I bid you farewell for now, Sebastian. Stay quiet and staysafe, for all our sakes.”