When the briefing took a recess, the Sankasselum, whose name was Kahag-Tahook, approached Johnny and Destry, who were exchanging their impressions of Cortexa.
"Sergeant Rammer, are you related to General Antonius Rammer? Human armies of this generation don't include mercenaries, but he was one."
"That, sir, was before the Introductories began attacking human worlds. Quite a few colony planets, including several inhabited by non-humans, still had multiple separate nations on any continent. They sometimes got into clashes with each other; and given the total number of multi-government worlds, there were enough opportunities to keep a mercenary army, and the transports which carried them, steadily employed. Some people, especially of your species, assume all mercenaries to be thugs; but my grandfather distinguished himself by urgently minimizing collateral damage. His armored regiment and its infantry escort, packed a massive punch, but also had precision ordnance and non-lethal crowd-control weapons in their arsenal."
The head on the end of Kahag-Tahook's neck leaned closer to Destry. "So I hear. But I have wondered how his army acquired the nickname of Stutterers."
"That was due to the signal characteristics of their encrypted voice comms."
Johnny interjected, "I recently spoke with Destry about his abrupt change into a cosmic rescuer." Kahag-Tahook looked at him, then back at Destry. The tank driver continued:
"Luck, the luck of timing, helped Grandfather to accomplish great things. On Planet Circlestorm, he had managed to overawe the aggressor in a dispute into negotiating. Unlike most mercenaries, Grandfather was just as glad not to kill people. Even absent a war, his men also earned money by training local guard forces. But that day, there was plenty of action for the Stammerers: Introductory troop transports pulling into parking orbit to launch transatmospheric landing craft.
"As was later verified, the Introductories, themselves accustomed to using beam weapons, assumed that nothing on Circlestorm could hit their transports in orbit. But the Stammerers had eighteen heavy railguns, which could be elevated for a great arc of trajectories. The first hint the enemy got of their peril was when three troop transports were terribly damaged, and seven landing craft annihilated. Locals from BOTH sides of the former dispute joined the Stammerers in smashing those invaders who made it to the surface."
Johnny looked thoughtful. "Your grandfather's career wasn't part of my training curriculum."
"Probably because most of his fighting was against other humans, not against races hostile to all of us here. And he somehow never got credit for the capture of abundant Introductory hardware, which was then reverse- engineered to improve human and allied armaments."
"Be that as it may, I respect him for trying not to kill any non-hostiles. That had to have given him some dilemmas."
"Yes, unfortunately, it did," said a voice sweet enough to pour onto pancakes. The translucent image of Cortexa was now full-sized; and in spite of being non-material, she walked toward the men and the solitary Sankasselum exactly as if she had physical feet to stride across the floor. "And in four known cases, General Rammer HAD NO CHOICE but to allow some non-combatants to die, because if he hadn't, his entire command, or most of it, would have been killed without their deaths accomplishing anything."
Johnny breathed several naughty words in an obscure language. Then, in English, he told Destry and Kahag-Tahook, "My instructors warned me often that I might, face-- make that, WILL face crises like that. Someday, if I live long enough to gain high rank, I'll have to play God."
Cortexa placed her holographic left hand where it could simulate patting his right arm. "You are hoping that it will be possible, in such an emergency, for YOU to be the one to die, so everyone else can live. But you won't say so, because it would sound like a self-serving attempt to make everyone admire you. Be at ease, Johnny-747; I know that you genuinely would accept death to save others."
Kahag-Tahook gave a sort of sneeze, his own race's way of expressing startlement. "Hologram entity! Are you telepathic?"
"No. But I have access to 747's psychological profile. And perceiving the electrical activity in his brain gives me clues to his immediate state of mind."
"Only his mind?" asked Destry Rammer.
"Johnny is the Crackshot chosen to carry my emitter. This, both because of his overall high merits, and because any adversary, if aware of my existence, is likely to assume that someone higher in rank, or with an intel-related specialty, is carrying me on a mission."
Destry had not heard Cortexa when she said earlier that she wanted to accompany Corporal 747. Hearing now that she would be with him, he reflexively muttered, "Johnny, you lucky dog."
Cortexa sighed, as realistically as if she had possessed lungs. "Not so lucky he, nor I. The more we build mutual rapport, the more mercilessly obvious it will be that we can never ACT UPON our affinity."
* * * * * * * * * * *
Ickylinn and Tyrone Glass Neilsen, from their vantage point within comparatively-real reality, were aware of the tear-jerking doomed-love story of Cortexa and the Master Champ. For their part, THEY relished it, understanding and welcoming the existential despair and gloom reflected by the Original Earth Halo game.
But the two evildoers didn't know about Copperfox, a servant of the Actual God. They didn't know how much Copperfox detested existential despair and gloom. Too bad for them that they didn't know how Copperfox had resolved to counteract Frank Herbert's obsession with making EVERYTHING tragic and miserable for everybody in the Dune stories. Sauce for Dune would be sauce for Halo.
