Nick Thomas - Battle Earth IV

At least he doesn’t want my ass behind bars anymore, thought Taylor.

“No one can doubt the commitment and sacrifices that these fine soldiers have given in duty to the people of this planet. In recognition of their services, President Moreau will be unveiling a monument in their honour. Major Chandra, it is my pleasure to request the presence of your company for this ceremony at 1000 hours tomorrow.”

Chandra stared at the General in shock. It appeared as if Schulz was expecting to see some gratitude from her, but she couldn’t help but feel that it was a pointless publicity stunt they were being drawn into when there was real work to be done. She strained to smile in response.

“Thank you, Sir,” she replied.

Schulz looked put out by her short and passive response, but he would not let it ruin his moment of glory.

“I am sure you are all eager to get some rest. Well done to all of you. Thank you all for your continued service!”

He began to clap and was soon joined by all who were present. Taylor could not help but feel sorry for all the personnel around them who had been drawn into Schulz’s plan. They deserved credit as much as the Inter-Allied did. Chandra saluted before turning and dismissing the troops. Schulz saluted them as they left, in a gesture that was so blatantly staged. Taylor stepped up to Chandra’s side as they finally plodded on.

“Will we never be rid of him?” he asked.

“Not likely. He’s always miles from the action.”

Taylor nodded in agreement.

“Schulz aside, that was good work today, to complete a mission without losing a single soldier. I was wondering if we’d ever see the day.”

The Company stood formed up beside a podium and what was some kind of monument still under wraps. Chandra paced up and down the line as they awaited the arrival of the French President and the other officials who were to honour them that day.

Opposite them stood a hundred strong youth marching band in gleaming dress uniforms. She looked back at her own troops and could see they had done their very best to look presentable, but there was no hiding their well worn and fatigued combat uniforms. She could see rips in fabric; cuts and scrapes on faces where shrapnel had left many scarred.

She smiled at the stark contrast of her battle-hardened unit to the gleaming presentation that had been set up for then. She preferred them that way. They presented themselves as they were; the few who were tough enough and lucky enough to have survived the war.

The Drum Major lifted his baton, and the band’s silence was broken as the brass and drums rang out around them. Chandra turned to see a motorcade approaching with French armoured vehicles at the forefront. Every vehicle proudly flew the French tricolor in a colourful entrance. She turned and looked in astonishment at the absurdity of the event.

Within a fifty metre radius was nothing but an impeccable parade display, but it was just one pocket of perfection amongst the ruins of the city that lay all around them. Beyond that lay massive cranes stretching up into the skyline. Only two buildings over five storeys high had survived the brutal struggle for the city, and they could see for kilometres.

Taylor caught sight of Chandra turning as she marvelled at the sights around them. They both knew they had been there before, but it was hard to recognise much of the city any longer. Chandra drew the Company to attention as the vehicles drew near, and they watched as the cheery President waved from his car.

On one hand, Taylor felt sorry for the French leader for having lost so much of his country, but on the other hand, he looked at the man’s impeccable clothing and well fed stomach and scowled at how little he had put into the war. Chandra could see the look of disgust on his face and strolled over to whisper beside him.

“Major, I know you’re not one for authority, but let’s not fuck this up, you hear?”

“He’s gonna stand there and talk about our shared struggle to free these lands. What did he ever do?” snapped Taylor.

“We all have our part in this, not all of it is holding a rifle and fighting on the frontline,” she replied.

He nodded in agreement and could feel some of the anger seep away.

“I’m just sick of it all, those bastards, Schulz and Dupont. They toss us about as assets, and then want to take all the glory.”

“Hey, this here is for us, don’t you forget that. The President has a responsibility to the people of this country, and he is clearly fulfilling that. Cut the man some slack, you have no idea what his part was in this war.”

Chandra saluted as the car drew to a halt and watched as President Moreau leapt out and up towards the podium. The two Majors stared in astonishment for a moment. They had never met the French President, but they knew from news feeds that he was a much older man than the one who was about to address them. Commander Phillips approached them in full number one dress.

“Sir, that, that isn’t the President,” stated Chandra.

“It is now, Major. President Moreau passed away a week ago from a heart attack. The government decided in the interest of the people that his son should take over to allow the population to have someone they can relate to.”

“That ain’t very democratic,” replied Taylor from the sideline.

Chandra turned and smiled to see that Mitch had crept closer to listen in.

“No, but what else were they to do? Not like they could start an e-vote and have it done by the weekend. Communications in this country are still an utter shambles.”

“What’s he like, this new President?”

“Driven. He’s a high roller and vicious to boot. He’s got balls and has no problem walking over people to get ahead.”

“Sounds about right,” replied Taylor.

“But maybe not the right man for the job. These people need somebody with empathy. Somebody who can hold them together, not drive them apart,” whispered Chandra.

“I’d hold your tongue, Major,” replied Phillips. “We’re soldiers, not politicians. The two don’t mix well.”

They fell silent as Moreau stepped up to the podium, without introduction from the speaker who stepped aside speechless. The President lifted his hand, and the band quickly faded off into silence. He looked out across the lines of British and American soldiers and to the civilians who had gathered for the ceremony. Only a hundred Parisians had turned out for the event, but many soldiers from European armies were scattered amongst them.

“Men and Women of France, and of the world, we gather here among the ruins of our fine capital city not to mourn our losses, but to celebrate our victories! The soldiers of the Second Inter-Allied Company have served the world and given everything they had to make this land free!”

Whistles and clapping burst out from the audience, but Taylor felt nothing. He didn’t ask for any praise for what they had done. He didn’t want any medals or awards. He turned back to look at Eli’s face. As he glanced at her with wide eyes, she noticed and turned to meet his. She smiled before turning as she blushed. The President lifted up his hand again and nodded in acknowledgement, as if he himself were being applauded for the victory.

“It is my pleasure and honour to reveal this monument to the world. It stands as an eternal reminder of the sacrifices made by these fine men and women.”

He pointed for the men waiting on the ropes next to the covered monument that stood ten metres high. The soft cloth rolled off the hard stone, and they looked in awe at what lay beneath. The base was of a thick stone column and atop it was a character stood with one foot on the body of a fallen alien. Taylor instantly recognised that it was a homage to his defeat over Karadag. The statue of him was thrusting an Assegai into the air triumphantly.