Taylor didn't even bother asking his name. He just went right into his response.
"The Lo Yang had marines, brave men and women who went into combat without hesitation. Barely a single one of them survived the fighting aboard the barge yesterday. Those who survived made it because experienced and well-equipped marines saved their asses. Now I don't know a single one of you, but that doesn't mean I have no care for you and your crews. Right now, if you get boarded by any number of enemy hostiles, you can be pretty damn sure you won't survive the experience. I am here to make sure we don't lose any more ships, and we don't lose any more people. Admiral Huber has given me full command and authority to equip and assign the Marine detachments to your vessels, and you will abide by my ruling. Have you got that?"
They agreed, but he could see none of them liked it, so he went on.
"I am not trying to pick a fight with any of you. I am not here to assert my authority and try and take charge of the situation. I want to see you live through this mission, is it that too much to ask for?"
Still nobody said a word, but they were starting to come over to his point of view.
"Good. I will have your Marine detachments and additional equipment for your own personnel despatched to you by 0700 hours tomorrow so that you may depart at 0900, as per Admiral Huber's orders. Thank you, that will be all."
He got up and left without waiting for a response. He didn't like having to organise the mission without going out there himself. His first thought would have been to allocate his own officers and personnel to some of the ships, but he could not do that either. He knew he had to find others he could trust.
Taylor put a call through on the Mappad device on his arm. A moment later, Major Moye answered.
"What can I do for you, Colonel?"
"I need your help."
"Just say when and where."
* * *
Kelly's truck rolled into the hangar bay at Drachenburg, with Becker on the back of the truck bed, to an excited crowd who cheered as they came to a standstill. Two hundred of the people were there to greet them and clapped and whistled as they got out. Kelly couldn't believe what he was seeing. It was more joy and celebration than he had seen since the last war had ended.
"What are they so excited about?" Becker asked as Kelly climbed up onto the truck bed beside him.
"We just gave them something new in their lives beyond fear of death."
"What?"
"The chance of victory."
"Victory? We can never win."
"The war maybe, but we can win many battles. And everyone of them is reason to celebrate!"
He raised his hand to call for silence, and after nearly another minute of cheering, they slowly died down and listened.
"Today we destroyed two Krys ships and fourteen of their Mechs, to the loss of nothing more on our side than the roof of my truck!" he jested.
It brought some laughter, a rare and pleasant sight over the last few days.
"The enemy isn't invulnerable. They can be killed, they can be beaten, and they can feel fear. And that is what I intend to do. I want their soldiers to fear ever leaving their bases, for the chance they might run into us!"
More cheers rang out.
"Today's work is over. Well done to you all. We do this bit by bit. No grinding war that is always on our doorsteps. We fight them when and where we want, and then we celebrate our victories together!"
He jumped down from the truck and fought his way through the crowds to another truck covered over with a sheet. The crowd watched his every move and did not know what to expect.
"You all did well today. Now let's celebrate this victory, and every one that is to follow!"
He tugged at the sheet. It slid off and revealed a box truck with the rear door open. It was stuffed to the roof with alcohol.
"No way," said Becker.
"Dig in!" Kelly ordered.
The crowd went wild as he forced through, took a crate of beer, and fought his way back to Becker.
"You brought that with you?"
"A few of my boys did. I told them to gather all available vehicles. They gathered the delivery truck for the local bars. Just so happened it was out for delivery."
Becker laughed and Kelly passed him a bottle.
"This is hardly soldierly discipline," a voice said.
Kelly turned to see Corporal Berlin was standing behind him.
"No, it isn't. Times change. Look at these people," he said, "They need something to cling on to. They need some good in their lives. If getting slaughtered after doing some slaughtering keeps them going, then so be it."
He passed her a beer, and it was hard for her to refuse; she was starting to see his point.
"What are we now, Sir?"
"What do you mean, Becker?"
"Well, look at us. Tankers. We're a mix of forces of the Bundeswehr, retired Moon Defence Force, and there are a few others I don't even know who the hell they are. We have no command structure left, no Generals or leaders. What are we?"
"It is true we need an identity," Berlin joined in.
"Then we will make one. This place is what has brought us together," said Kelly. "The Drachenburg. Dragon Mountain, is it?"
"Something like that," replied Becker.
"Each one of these bunkers was named after a Schloss."
"So there are more like it?" Berlin asked.
"There are, but for the sake of security, I only ever knew of one. But you can be sure that wherever those other bunkers are, there are people like us keeping this fight going."
It was a heart-warming thought.
"So who are we now? Are we not the dragons in this mountain?"
Becker laughed.
"It's a little corny, don't you think?"
"More than a little," Berlin laughed.
"Yes it is, and maybe it's just what we need."
He climbed back onto the truck.
"Quiet! Everyone listen to me!"
They quickly calmed down but continued dragging out bottles from the truck.
"We are a community now! We are an army. Whatever we used to be. Wherever you used to call home, and whatever nationality you were, it doesn't matter anymore! Now we are brothers in arms. This is the Drachenburg, and we are the dragons of the mountain. Henceforth it is what we will call ourselves! We prowl these mountains. We stalk our prey. We are fire-breathing monsters. You all feared the aliens when they first arrived, as did I. They were terrifying creatures of immense power. Today we killed fourteen, without as much as a single shot fired in return. We are the monsters now. We are the creatures they will fear. We are the Dragons!"
The crowd cheered, and Becker shook his head at how absurd it sounded.
"You're pandering to the mob," he muttered.
"Yes I am," he replied without hesitation, "and isn't it exactly what they needed?"
It was hard for Becker to disagree, but he still smirked at the prospect. "Dragons? It's funny. Taylor would laugh if he were here, too."
"Perhaps, and yet he calls his comrades the Immortals. Is it any less pretentious?"
"No, but that was a name bestowed on them by others, and so they can rightfully continue to use it."
"Yeah, well, there isn't anyone left to praise our people’s achievements, so we must do so ourselves."
"That's true," replied Becker cynically, "You're our leader now, Kelly. Any doubts I had have long been cast aside. I will call you Commander, and I will follow you to the very end."
"Just know that I didn't want this, Captain. I do this because I have to, and somehow it's worked out this far."
"You're a born leader, Sir, and I'd be a fool to pass up on that skill."
They turned back to look at the party that had started. Many of the others from the bunker had heard of the truck of beer and rushed to join in. Some were dancing like fools, and others embroiled in conversation as if it were any other day.