The elevator doors whisked aside and opened in front of Rhodes. A long corridor stretched out in front of him.

  Dozens of Legion personnel of every rank strode back and forth in that corridor. They all carried out their duties as if he wasn’t here.

  He and the two Battalion 1 doctors stepped out of the elevator and the doors closed behind them. They entered the Ocao Space Station which of course orbited the planet Ocao in the Itriun system.

  The system was conveniently far away from the Masks invasion. Everyone here from the Legion brass down to the lowest civilian janitor could continue to pretend that the war wasn’t going on at all.

  The corridor’s glass sides curved upward from the floor and gave a view of the planet from orbit. The planet gleamed brilliant, verdant green down there. It was such a luxurious view—a view reserved for people who worked hard to get out into space and build a station like this.

  Rhodes and the two doctors set off down the corridor as if, by some distant chance, they might be a normal part of the Legion just like the rest of these people.

  Rhodes would never be a normal part of the Legion—not ever again. That became more obvious to him by the day—as if he hadn’t already figured that out.

  All these people around him right now—they all went about their business as if him being here was the most ordinary thing in the world. They didn’t act like they knew what it meant.

  Maybe they didn’t know what it meant. Maybe none of them knew anything about him.

  He and the two doctors passed down multiple corridors and took a few different elevators to the station’s very highest deck—the administrative deck.

  Rhodes had been in one long conversion cycle since his first meeting with the officers who wanted to hold him accountable for killing so many Legion soldiers.

  Rhodes hadn’t seen or spoken to anyone from Battalion 1 since Coulter left the conference room. Rhodes had been in his capsule ever since.

  Dr. Osborne woke him up in the lab, waited a little while to make sure all Rhodes’s systems were functioning, and then they came straight here.

  Now Rhodes would face the inquiry—not to find out what he and the battalion did to those soldiers. Everyone already knew that.

  Everyone already knew why they did it, too. Rhodes would hazard a guess and say the brass already knew that Fuentes wasn’t under the Masks’ control at the time, too.

  The brass only held this inquiry to decide what to do with the battalion as a result. For all he knew, the brass had already decided what to do with the battalion. This inquiry was just a formality.

  Dr. Osborne and Dr. Trudeau gave nothing away. Rhodes liked to think the doctors didn’t know any more than he did.

  He wouldn’t have been surprised if the officers kept their decision from the doctors—and all the rest of their conversations. The two doctors had already made it perfectly plain that they supported the battalion.

  Rhodes found it impossible to express his gratitude for their support. He should have. They did a lot more than support the battalion. They came with him right now. They stood by him.

  Colonel Kraft, Colonel Neff, and General Hyde did, too. Rhodes would never forget that. He would never be able to repay it, either.

  He could stay mad at people like General Brewster, Dr. Neiland, and Dr. Montague for doing this to him and the rest of the battalion. Rhodes couldn’t stay mad at these people.

  Fisher stayed visible in the corner of Rhodes’s vision from the time he left his capsule, but Fisher didn’t speak beyond the first routine pleasantries of greeting Rhodes and wishing him a good morning.

  Rhodes got the same feeling of deep, almost painful gratitude for Fisher’s presence and understanding. He knew as well as Rhodes did what was riding on this inquiry.

  Fisher’s existence hung on Rhodes. Fisher couldn’t make the case on their behalf. He had to rely on Rhodes to do that for both of them.

  He and the two doctors entered a different conference room—a much bigger, fancier conference room.

  This one had more big windows offering another stunning view of Ocao floating in the darkness of space. That planet sure was beautiful, but Rhodes could only think one thing.

  The Masks would reduce this beautiful green ball to a smoking black wreck the same way they reduced every other planet to a smoking black wreck.

  They would kill everyone on this planet and raze every city. Why? Did their programming somehow make them want to take revenge on the people who created them?

  Rhodes had to pay attention to the inquiry and not think about the fact that the Masks were still out there.

  They were trying to wipe out the human race while these moronic officers sat around pointing the finger at Battalion 1.

  Never mind. He didn’t mind going through this charade if it gave someone some closure about all those soldiers dying.

  The officers in charge of the inquiry sat in a line across a huge table set in front of the door. Rhodes walked in and faced all those officers staring at him.

  Colonel Kraft, Colonel Neff, and General Hyde sat with the six officers Rhodes met last time.

  The inquiry finally brought in General Brewster, Admiral Pulman, and Colonel LeClerc, too.

  The three of them had such conflicting attitudes toward Battalion 1. This should get interesting.

  The two doctors weren’t under scrutiny here, but they planted themselves on either side of Rhodes and faced down the inquiry panel, too. That on its own counted for a lot.

  “Welcome back, Captain,” General Hyde began.

  Rhodes replied, “Thank you, Ma’am,” but everything that happened here was so automatic. He couldn’t bring himself to care about much anymore.

  “We’ve reviewed the Grid evidence from all Battalion 1’s systems,” Captain Lake went on. “We can confirm that you and Lieutenants Oakes, Lauer, and Rhinehart all resisted the Masks’ control.”

  “I’d like to point out for the record that Sergeant Jairo Dietz resisted as well,” Rhodes replied.

  “Our concern is with Corporals Fuentes and Coulter and with Alyssa Thackery,” Colonel Volk chimed in. “Each of them cooperated with the Masks at one point or another. Isn’t that true?”

  “The evidence also suggests that Fuentes wasn’t under the Masks’ control at all during the Battle of Keonus,” Admiral Stabler added. “The evidence suggests he carried out the slaughter willingly and even enjoyed it—and that he was laughing during the Battle of Rono. Would you agree with that assessment, Captain?”

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  Rhodes felt himself squirming. “I would argue there were extenuating circumstances, Sir.”

  “What extenuating circumstances could possibly justify knowingly, willingly, and systematically slaughtering hundreds of Legion soldiers?” Captain Lake asked.

  “For a start, the fact that the Masks kept us in a hallucinogenic state for almost the entirety of our captivity,” Rhodes pointed out. “The Masks used drugs to induce a state of euphoria when we cooperated and fought on their side. They used these drug-induced hallucinogenic states to condition us to feel this euphoria during battle against their other enemies first. Then they turned us against the Legion expecting the same thing to happen. Some of us reacted differently than others. You can’t tell me Fuentes just woke up one morning and decided to slaughter Legion soldiers. The Masks created the conditions to make him react that way. That was their plan all along. Surely you can all see that based on the evidence. I don’t know why I have to explain this to you if you already know everything.”

  “That doesn’t explain why he did what he did,” Colonel Volk argued. “Fuentes wasn’t under the influence of drugs or torture during the Battle of Rono. Then you, Rhinehart, Oakes, and Lauer all went through the same process of torture, drugs, hallucinations, and conditioning—yet all four of you resisted the control to kill Legion soldiers on Keonus. How do you explain that?”

  “I can’t explain it other than maybe the fact that all of us were officers in the Legion beforehand had something to do with it,” Rhodes replied. “We’re also older and more experienced than Fuentes. He’s just a kid and not a very bright one.” Rhodes opened his mouth to say something else and stopped himself in time.

  “Do you have something to add, Captain?” Admiral Stabler asked. “Whatever you have to say in your own defense, you better say it now. You won’t get another chance to defend yourself and the battalion after this inquiry concludes.”

  Rhodes hesitated again, cast the briefest glance at General Brewster and the rest of the Battalion 1 governing body, and went for broke. What the hell did he have to lose?

  “I would argue that the conditions of the Battalion 1 project prepared us for this and made us all more susceptible to the Masks’ control,” he blurted out. “I would argue that none of this would have happened without the conditions we suffered at Coleridge Station. I’m quite certain Fuentes wouldn’t have flipped the way he did if we hadn’t suffered the way we did.”

  “Suffered!” General Brewster snapped. “You and the battalion never suffered at Coleridge Station! I resent that implication! Do you have any idea how much trouble we went to over this project? We all worked our tails off to give you and the battalion every possible chance and opportunity.”

  “Every possible chance to survive, you mean?” Rhodes countered. “Our medical records will show that everyone in the battalion suffered from disorientation and distress, both physical and mental, severe enough to drive all nine of us to the brink of suicide. Fuentes was suicidal long before we ever went into combat against the Masks. He was a danger to himself and the rest of the battalion—and he wasn’t the only one.”

  General Brewster shuffled in his seat. Colonel Volk glared at Brewster. “You never told us about this! You led us to believe the orientation process went smoothly for everyone in the battalion.”

  “Ask him how many people didn’t survive even waking up from stasis,” Rhodes went on.”

  “Those were just growing pains!” General Brewster blustered.

  “I can personally testify that the physical pain alone would be enough to make anyone want to end their life,” Rhodes added, “and that’s not counting the distress of being ripped away from our families and them being told we were already dead.”

  “None of us knew anything about this, Captain,” Admiral Stabler insisted.

  “Colonel Kraft, Colonel Neff, and General Hyde did,” Rhodes pointed out. “They should have told you.”

  “As a matter of fact, Captain,” General Hyde replied. “We’ve been told since we first got here that your previous medical records weren’t relevant to this investigation. The inquiry panel refused to accept any evidence from before your capture.”

  “It is very relevant.” Rhodes turned back to the other officers. “The Masks offered us a way out of our pain and distress. These hallucinations offered us a way to live in comfort and happiness—a way to regain the pleasure and connection of human life—the pleasure and connection the Battalion 1 project robbed from all of us. The euphoria became addictive. I really don’t blame Fuentes for getting swept away by it. I don’t blame Thackery for betraying the battalion, either. The temptation to stay in the hallucination was overpowering. It took all our effort to resist it. So not everyone succeeded. So what? You can’t blame them for that. I also don’t blame Fuentes for resenting the Legion for putting us through all this. He wanted payback and he got it. The Masks didn’t do this to us—the Legion did. None of this would have happened if not for the Battalion 1 project.”

  “Unfortunately, none of that absolves you of culpability in the deaths of all these soldiers,” Captain Lake interjected. “Your argument only proves that you and the rest of the battalion are too unstable to function in battlefield conditions.”

  “I’ve been saying the same thing for weeks, Sir,” Rhodes muttered.

  “We can’t run the risk of something like this happening again.”

  “It won’t happen again because we aren’t the Masks’ prisoners anymore,” Rhodes pointed out. “We’ve all withdrawn from the drugs.”

  “By your own argument, the orientation process integrating you back into the Legion ranks might be incomplete,” Colonel Volk pointed out. “You might never completely reintegrate. Isn’t that the point you’re making? The risk would always remain that one of you might snap. Fuentes had a history of dangerous behavior before the Masks captured the battalion. He could snap on the battlefield and decide again that he wanted get payback against the Legion.”

  Rhodes shifted his weight again. “I don’t say you’re wrong, Sir.”

  “Then we have no choice but to discontinue the Battalion 1 project,” Captain Lake announced.

  Rhodes spun around fast. “Discontinue…..”

  “The remaining battalion members and their SAMs will be taken offline and rendered…..”

  “You can’t do this!” General Brewster’s voice started rising and he started to get out of his chair. “Do you know the investment we’ve put into this project? We finally have a fighting force strong enough to combat our enemies. If you take that away, the Masks will steamroll right over the regular Legion! We won’t stand a chance!”

  “At the moment, Battalion 1 is as much a threat to the Legion as the Masks are,” Captain Lake pointed out.

  “That is a bald-faced lie!” General Brewster countered. “Captain Rhodes and his subordinates saved more soldiers in numerous battles as they killed on Rono and Keonus combined. You all know this. Captain Rhodes even saved soldiers who were trying to hunt him down and kill him. If that doesn’t prove his loyalty, nothing will.”

  “The fact that you hid how unstable these people are shows me that you aren’t competent to run this project,” Admiral Stabler fired back. “You knew these people were experiencing dangerous mental problems and you hid this, not just from us, but from the platoons who were supposed to fight alongside these people. This project is a menace to the Legion. The Battalion 1 project never should have started in the first place.”

  “Amen, Sir,” Rhodes chimed in.

  Admiral Stabler shot him a dirty look. “Don’t you go agreeing with me. These officers are talking about taking you and your subordinates offline. Don’t you even care about saving your own life? You might at least consider trying to save your subordinates’ lives.”

  “I won’t try to fool you into thinking we won’t still suffer from malfunctions and problems,” Rhodes replied, “but you might consider some other factors before you throw away everything we’ve already been through.”

  “What do you mean?” Colonel Neff asked.

  “We’ve already suffered because of this project and from the Masks’ captivity. I really don’t blame you for wanting to end this project, but there might be a way to turn all of this around and make it into something good.”

  “Like what?” Captain Lake asked. “How could any of this possibly be something good?”

  “When I was a prisoner of the Masks, I made up my mind to kill them all in revenge for what they did to me—to all of us. Some of us want to finish them for good. We might have our problems, but we’re the ones most capable of doing that. Give us a chance to prove our loyalty and dedication to destroying the Legion’s enemies. You have no other way to defeat the Masks. I’m not sure if we can, but we’re the only ones who even stand a chance.”

  The officers exchanged glances again. General Brewster pointed at Rhodes. “Yes! That’s right! That’s what I was saying…..”

  “Sit down, Kenneth,” Admiral Stabler snapped. “You aren’t part of this. You’re too attached to this project to think straight. None of us wants to hear from you again.”

  Rhodes got a sick little thrill listening to this. General Brewster was finally meeting some people of his own rank or higher. These officers all understood exactly what he’d been up to behind the Treaty of Aemon Cluster’s taxpayers’ backs.

  Admiral Stabler glared at him. General Brewster sank back into his chair. He didn’t look at anyone.

  The admiral took extra long to straighten up and face front. “We need to consider this, Captain. I don’t see how we can reverse our decision, but we thank you for your testimony. You’re dismissed.”

  “I want to be returned to the battalion,” Rhodes blurted out. “I want to see my people. If you’re going to take all of us offline, I think I’ve earned the right to spend my last hours or days with them.”

  The panel went through another flurry of shifting in their seats. Rhodes didn’t see why his request would cause them so much discomfort. What did they think—that he would let them keep him locked in a lab for the last hours of his miserable life?

  Once again, Colonel Kraft spoke up for the first time and broke the awkward silence. “You can return to the battalion, Captain. We’ll inform you of our decision in due course.”

  “Yes, Sir,” Rhodes replied and left the conference room.

  End of Chapter 8

  ? 2024 by Theo Mann

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