BtH82

==Chapter 82 - By the Horns==
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Oman Said Spaceport
Zanzibar City, Bromhead
Federated Suns
March 2nd, 3026
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Henry Barksdale sat on the dias and blinked at the harsh lights that nearly blinded him and the other officers—former officers—seated on the platform. In front of them there are dozens of recording devices and a gaggle of reporters and journalists, all of whom were shouting questions.
He cursed silently at having been chosen for this, but he had been ordered to be here, and so here he was. Sitting down to give the people of the Federated Suns and the Capellan March his own views and thoughts on the failed invasion of New Vallis by the once-vaunted Sixth Syrtis Fusiliers.
So far, at least, he had been able to remain silent, only nodding as the officers senior to him had given scathing reports about everything Michael Hasek-Davion had done wrong—starting with his decision to invade without have the full force of the AFFS behind him! And then ignoring a direct order from the First Prince to stand down and return to New Syrtis, which if the March Lord had obeyed would have left the RCT intact instead of suffering a rather ugly defeat.
He had been sitting here for two hours and one-by-one the former officers of the Sixth Syrtis Fusiliers had given blunt and bitter testimony about how they been betrayed—not by the First Prince, but by their own Duke! Part of that testimony had been given first-hand by Colonel Malachi Russert, the only surviving member of the Duke's command staff and one that gave damning witness to the actions of Michael. Including the Duke's attempt to use a nuclear weapon against the men of the Sixth who had surrendered to Taurians in an attempt to frame the Taurians and rally the remnants of the Sixth to him!
Henry almost snorted as he thought about the reaction of the media to that! Everyone had gotten quite, but Russert had played a copy of the audio recording of Colonel Bragg's transmission from Michael's headquarters, followed by gun camera footage from the surviving fighters, information from Titan's flight data recorder (recovered from the crash site, he gathered), and the video images of a nuclear detonation in the distance far above and kilometers distant from the Taurian camp filled with those AFFS personnel who had surrendered and hundreds of Taurian civilians who were trying to feed, cloth, and provide medical attention to those who needed it.
That had shut up the journalists—mostly from the Capellan March and used to painting the House of Hasek in the best possible light. But there were other journalists here as well and no one was trying to white-wash what Michael had done. The damage he had inflicted on the AFFS and the Federated Suns, the deaths that he had—personally—caused in a vain pursuit of glory.
"Leftenant," a reporter asked. "Is there anything else you wish to add? I understand that the Taurians came close to massacring what was left of your unit?"
Henry frowned and then he stood. "Taurian militia, acting against orders—just as Duke Michael did," he said in an acid voice, "were planning on killing us. It was Edward Calderon himself who put a stop to it. And it was Edward Calderon who—personally—paid our ransoms that so we could return home. I was born on Numenor and I am a loyal soldier of the Armed Forces of the Federated Suns. But that Taurian is a better man by far than Duke Michael ever was." Henry stopped for a moment and then he said to himself, what the hell?
"You know," he continued, "it wasn't really Michael's fault. Not his alone. Because you people here in the Capellan March let him do it. The Eighth and Ninth Syrtis Fusiliers were supposed to invade the Concordat with us, right? Where were their commanders when the Duke committed treason and got his men—good men—killed for no reason other than his vanity? Where was his sister, the woman who served as his Deputy in the March? Why didn't they stop this insanity? Why didn't any of you stop this?"
The young man swallowed. "My men and my women, soldiers who trusted me to lead them, died in that miserable Taurian desert and they died not because of Taurian perfidy, but because of Hasek stupidity and glory-chasing vanity! And now we learn, because of Colonel Russert, he was in bed with Maximilian Liao! Well, I'm sorry he died on New Vallis, because right now I want to be the one to put a bullet in him!"
"Thank you, Leftenant," the shocked moderator said briskly, "that will be all."
Henry looked out at the reporters and then the moderator and then the officers assembled on the stage. He shook his head. "No, it won't be all. Because you people are going to make excuses for Duke Michael and claim we are doing nothing but slandering him and his reputation. He tried to start a war—a war that neither New Avalon or Taurus wanted!—and you folks are going to give him a free pass. Now, my career is over. Officially, I am listed in the AFFS rolls as a mutineer. So when they finish processing me, I'm going home to Numenor and wash my hands of every Hasek ever born." He paused and then he nodded to himself. "Fuck Michael, fuck the House of Hasek, and fuck the leadership of the Syrtis Fusiliers. My people deserved better than him. They deserved better than me, because maybe a better officer might have kept more of them alive."
He took off his microphone and walked off the stage, quickly followed by Colonel Russert and the other former officers. As he made his way to the door, he heard Russert speak behind him.
"Leftenant?"
Henry sighed and he turned around. "Not anymore, Sir. I'm not that any more."
"Perhaps not. But I was wondering if we might talk—it turns I might just have an opportunity for you to resume your career in the AFFS. If you are interested."
"Right now, Sir, I just want to go home."
Russert nodded and then he passed over a data-card. "If you change your mind and you still want to serve the Federated Suns, I can promise you won't ever be in the Syrtis Fusiliers again. Hanse Davion could use a man like you . . . Captain."
Henry blinked. "Captain?"
"Least we can do, son. I think you will find that not everyone is like Duke Michael and his cronies—and the Prince takes care of those loyal to him. Men and women like you. Think about it."
Then Russert walked away and Henry Barksdale stood there holding the data-card and staring first at it, then at the back of the former Colonel walking away.
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