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For three weeks First Sergeant Repeth drilled her company, always staying strictly within the letter of her authority to do so, always keeping a copy of the regulations handy on a pocket tablet. By and large Captain Rapplean stayed out of her way, as she thought he might; his MO seemed to be to avoid hard work and hard choices except when some superior officer was around, at which time he temporarily became a model officer.
In that time she felt cautiously confident that she had cleaned out the worst rot from Bravo Company, and that she could rely on them.
At least, the enlisted. Captain Rapplean and the company’s lieutenants were still suspect, but with decent NCOs in place, that could be handled.
As she came back from Monday morning PT, Sergeant Major Tano intercepted her and pulled her aside in a far corner of the company formation pad, his two escorts thankfully elsewhere inside Battalion spaces.
“You’re getting Bravo Company noticed,” Tano said.
“Just trying to whip them into shape, Smaj,” she replied.
“Not saying it’s a bad thing, but bad things are coming. Simms is going to do a surprise inspection tomorrow, at first formation after breakfast.”
“No problem,” Repeth said easily. “We’ll be ready. Hell, we’re ready right now, except for a few little things.”
Tano shook his head and scowled darkly. “No, you don’t understand. You’re ready for Simms to inspect the company, but afterward he likes to hold a kumbayah session with the lower enlisted.”
“What? What does that mean?”
“He’ll get the lower enlisted into the auditorium, kick out the NCOs and officers, post guards and then talk to them by himself.”
Repeth looked away for a moment, staring at nothing. “That’s...weird.”
“It’s worse than that. He tries to get them talking, tries to convince them he’s their best friend and pal, and they should open up to him about any perceived problems in the company. If that doesn’t work, he’ll get them talking about how far they are from home, how they miss their sweethearts, how scared they all are of the aliens...anything to get them emotional and blabbering.”
Repeth turned to Tano in shock. “Oh. My. God.”
“Yeah, in spades.”
“A bunch of privates are too stupid to keep their mouths shut. They’ll start saying any damn thing that comes into their heads to try to please the big boss.”
Tano smiled with absolutely no humor involved. “That’s only the start. Not only does he try to get them to talk bad about the chain of command, he records everything himself. And he forbids them to do the same. Sweeps the room for bugs, makes sure the troops’ cyberware is all shut down.”
“Because an unedited rendering would show just how insane the whole thing was.”
“To a real Marine, yeah. Or even a decent Ground Forces or Navy officer. But to a hometown politician that’s never worked with troops, or someone’s daddy or mommy... I can tell you he doesn’t like hard chargers like you. He wants a frickin’ college campus here for some reason, with everyone kissing his ass. I think he already knows the entire chain of command doesn’t trust him, so he tries to get the troops on his side.”
Repeth’s jaw had sunk lower and lower, and now she closed it with an audible snap. “I knew he was bad but... We have a lunatic for a commander, trying to undermine his own chain of command and convincing the troops to spill their guts to him, only to use their babbling against them. But why?”
Tano shook his head, in uncertainty not negation. “Maybe he’s reporting to an officer or politician with an agenda of some sort. Maybe someone wants the Marines’ reputation damaged. We’ve always been the fleet’s guarantee against mutiny or, on the flip side, individual Navy officers getting big heads when they have an independent command. Maybe the Ground Forces feel like they have no status anymore, hanging around Earth and manning a few asteroid fortresses, and they want to undermine us.”
Repeth chewed her lower lip. “Or maybe some politician is trying to save money by reducing the expenditures on Marines, or...I just don’t know.”
Tano said, “We can speculate all day. I just wanted to give you a heads up.”
“What do you want me to do?” Repeth immediately realized that was the wrong tack. “Never mind...I’ll figure out a mitigation plan.”
“You’d better, Top. If this keeps up, something bad is going to happen, no matter how hard you train your people. The nail that sticks up gets hammered down; you know that. You haven’t rocked the boat too hard yet, but Simms may be gathering evidence in case you do.”
Slowly a genuine smile spread across Repeth’s face, quickly suppressed. “Sergeant Major, I believe I can handle this situation. Thank you for tipping me off.”
Tano cocked his head critically. “Be careful, Top. You’re a good NCO. I’d hate to lose you.”
“And if I’m not careful? If I go out on a limb?”
“I’ll back you up, under two conditions. One,” he held up a thumb, “I’m not gonna get court martialed, and two,” he added his index finger, “you and your fancy husband bring this son of a bitch down once and for all.”
Repeth’s eyebrows went up in surprise.
“Oh yeah,” Tano said, “I looked into Lieutenant Commander Johnstone’s background. Don’t worry, I’m on your side. It just seems to me that someone with his skills ought to be able to, well, help out.”
“Sergeant Major, I have no idea what you are talking about, and if anyone asks, that’s my answer.” She showed her teeth once more, then nodded as she turned to go. “Good day to you, Smaj.”
Quickly she gathered her platoon sergeants together, four NCOs she trusted, and put out the word to tell the troops that no one was to volunteer anything if the colonel asked any open-ended questions. “Tell them that anyone who runs his mouth, anyone who does anything more than answer a direct question will be in for a hell that they’ll never forget.”
She hoped that would mitigate the problem, and would lay the groundwork for the next part of the plan she’d thought of. Next, she went and looked up Sergeant Dasko.
Dasko was the best of her NCOs, a squad leader. As soon as he had enough seniority she’d try to make sure he got a platoon. Most importantly, she was sure he was both completely reliable, and also flexible-minded enough to do what she asked.
“Sure, Top, whatever you want,” the surprisingly youthful-looking man said once she’d outlined the situation. He appeared barely twenty though he was at least thirty, which was another reason for choosing him.
“You think you’ll have any trouble?” she asked.
“No, Top. My guys are all solid. They’ll keep their mouths shut.”
Repeth reminded herself that good leaders seemed to always have good squads. It was some kind of symbiotic feedback loop, where the good troops reflected their good bosses, and good bosses attracted or found or developed good Marines.
The opposite also tended to be true, which was one reason the battalion was all screwed up.
That evening, after making sure Rick had swept their quarters once more for surveillance, she finally asked him to do what he had been waiting for: to put his skills to use.
