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“Lieutenant, members of the House, as you know, the Republic has entered dark times in which separatist factions have challenged our government.”

Nester Smart moved toward me and leaned close enough to whisper in my ear. “He’s on our side,” Smart whispered. “He is signaling us and his allies how to play this. He will try to shield you if the questions get hostile.”

“As we all know,” Lund continued, “a landing force was sent to Little Man for peaceful purposes. More than two thousand Marines were brutally butchered…”

“I am certain that history will show that these men died bravely…” The leader of the Loyal Opposition showed no signs of slowing as his speech passed the seven-minute mark.

“Were it possible, we should erect a statue for every victim of that holocaust.” Lund waxed on and on about the innocence of our twenty-three hundred-man, highly armed landing party and the brutality of the Mogat response. He talked about the unprovoked attack on the Kamehameha and the good fortune that other ships happened to be nearby.

“Goddamn windbag” Smart whispered angrily.

“Lieutenant Wayson Harris is one of only seven men who survived that unprovoked attack,” the congressman went on. “Fellow representatives, I would personally like to thank Lieutenant Harris for his valor.”

Loud applause rang throughout the chamber, echoing fiercely around us. The shooting match was about to begin. Behind me, Hughes banged his gavel and called for order. “The floor now recognizes the junior representative from Olympus Kri.”

An old woman with crinkled salt-and-pepper hair pulled back in a tight bun stood. She pushed her wire-frame spectacles up the bridge of her nose and spoke in overtly sweet tones. “Olympus Kri celebrates your safe return from Little Man, Lieutenant Harris. I am sure the battle must have been a very grueling experience. What can you tell us about the nature of the incursion on Little Man?”

“The nature?” I asked.

“What was the reason you went down to Little Man?” the congresswoman asked. She leaned forward on her desk to take weight off her feet.

“Remember, you are an ignorant foot soldier,” Smart whispered in my ear.

“Why did I go to Little Man, ma’am?” I repeated. “We went because that was where the transport dropped us off.”

The soft hum of laughter echoed through the chamber.

The congresswoman managed a weak response. “I see. Well, Lieutenant, as I understand it, there were twenty-three hundred Marines on Little Man. That sounds like quite an invasion.”

With that she stopped speaking. Perhaps she expected me to respond, but I had nothing to say. She hadn’t asked me a question. An awkward silence swelled.

“Is it?” the congresswoman finally asked.

“Excuse me?” I asked. I looked over at Smart and saw an approving smile.

“Why did you invade Little Man?” she asked.

“I was not involved in the planning of this mission, ma’am.”

“Twenty-three hundred units?” she persisted. “What reason were you given for sending so many men to the planet?”

“Ma’am, I was a sergeant. Nobody gives sergeants reasons. They just tell us what to do.”

“I see,” she said.

Nester Smart leaned over to whisper something to me, but the congresswoman stopped him. “Did you have something to add, Mr. Smart?” she asked.

“I was just advising Lieutenant Harris about the kind of information you might be looking for,” Smart said.

“From your vast store of battlefield experience, Mr. Smart?” the congresswoman quipped. There was a burst of laughter on the floor. Smart turned red but said nothing.

“Lieutenant, I am merely trying to determine why so many Marines were sent to the surface of Little Man. I am not asking for an official explanation. You are a soldier in the Unified Authority Marine Corps. Surely you have some understanding about how things are done.”

“It’s not unusual for ships to send their complement of Marines to a planet, ma’am,” I said.

“Two thousand men?” she questioned. “That sounds more like an occupying force.”

“Ma’am, twenty-three hundred men with light arms is a tiny force. We keep more men than that on most friendly planets.”

“I see,” said the congresswoman. “Lieutenant Harris, I thank you for your service to the Republic.” With that, she returned to her desk.

I recognized the next senator’s face from countless mediaLink stories. Tall, with dark skin and a beard that looked like a chocolate smudge around his mouth, this was Congressman Bill Hawkins who represented a group of small planets in the Sagittarius Arm. Except for the telltale white streaks that tinged his hair, Hawkins looked like an athletic thirty-year-old. I’d read somewhere that he was actually in his fifties.

“Lieutenant Harris, I salute you for your service to our fine Republic,” he said. He spoke slowly and in a clear, strong voice. Earth-born and raised, Hawkins had been a fighter pilot—his was the voice of one veteran speaking to another. He placed a foot on his seat and leaned forward. As he went on, however, his demeanor transformed into that of a politician.

“Lieutenant, perhaps I can assist my esteemed colleague from Olympus Kri,” he began. Around the chamber, many representatives began muttering protests.

“Perhaps my esteemed colleague has not noticed that the lieutenant has already answered her questions,” said Opposition Leader Lund.

“Certain questions remained unanswered,” Hawkins said, turning his attention on Lund.

“This is supposed to be a presentation, not a board of inquiry,” a congressman shouted from the floor.

“Order. Order!” Hughes said, banging his gavel. “Representative Hawkins has the floor.”

“And I do congratulate the lieutenant,” Hawkins said, looking over my head toward Representative Gordon Hughes. “Well done, Lieutenant Harris. But, in light of new information, certain questions must be answered.”

“What information is that?” Nester Smart broke in.

“Oh yes, Nester Smart, good of you to escort the lieutenant,” Hawkins said with a smirk. “After surviving a brutal battle on Little Man, it would be a shame if this fine Marine was lost in a dangerous place like the House of Representatives.”

Laughter and angry shouts erupted around the chamber.

“Order,” Congressman Hughes called. His booming voice stung my ears. “What new information have you acquired, Senator Hawkins?”

Hawkins reached down and pulled a combat helmet out from beneath his desk. “Do you recognize this, Lieutenant?” he asked.

“That is a combat helmet,” I said.

“Your combat helmet, Lieutenant. One of my aides retrieved it from a repair shop on the Kamehameha. It appears that its audio sensors failed during the battle.” Hawkins held the helmet so that everyone on the floor could see it. “We downloaded the data recorded in the memory chip of this helmet. The data shows that you acted most heroically, Lieutenant Harris.”

“Thank you, Senator,” I answered quietly. I knew something bad was coming, but I had no idea what it might be. My mind started racing through the entire mission. Would Hawkins accuse me of cowardice for abandoning Captain McKay? Would he call me a traitor for leading my men out of the canyon?

“Your mission, however, was about more than squatters,” Hawkins said. “Congressman Hughes, with your permission I would like to show the chamber some excerpts from Lieutenant Harris’s record.”

“This is unacceptable!” blared the minority leader. “Mr. Speaker, this is a blind-side attack.”

Hawkins’s aides jumped to their feet and shouted in protest.

“Ironic,” Hawkins said, putting up an open hand to silence his delegation. “That is the exact accusation I have against the men who planned the invasion of Little Man. We can view this record in a special committee if that is what my esteemed colleague wishes, but a committee investigation would require the testimony of all of the men who survived this attack. We would need them to verify that the records have not been altered.