AR13 Ch16 (Patreon)

Gregory didn’t leave Desert Hole right away; he had to augment the lacking supplies for his unit. That let him visit some of the shops in the town; his politeness had the same effect it always had, leaving people questioning his kindness in his wake. The sun was sinking toward the horizon by the time Gregory raced back across the desert to Dune Water.

When Gregory got to the gate, which was about to close for the night, Dema stared in shock. “Sir? I thought you went to Desert Hole.”

“I did,” Gregory said as he entered the village. “I’m now back. Is that a problem, sergeant?”

“No, sir,” Dema said.

“Good. I will see you for dinner and for the Peaceful Fist in the morning. Excuse me.”

Dema saluted, as did the men on the gate. When Gregory rushed off in a blur of aether flame, Dema exhaled then cursed softly. “Krog’s balls. He just won’t let up.”

“Sarge, it hasn’t been bad lately,” one of his men said. “Makes the early part of the shift easier.”

“Pipe down,” Dema snapped. “We’ll be off-duty soon enough.”

Gregory didn’t hear the exchange, but he knew that Dema was losing the respect of his men. Tomorrow morning, two of the unit would be far more interested in doing the exercises. But that was a tomorrow issue; right now, he had a Jackow problem. He slowed down and let go of his aether before he came into sight of the barracks compound. By the time he slipped inside the compound without being seen, the argument between Quiggly and Jackow was already underway.

“There’s no point, Captain,” Jackow said. “Magi won’t be back for a day or two. Taking a day off isn’t going to be a problem. We’ll stay away from the tavern, but we should get the option to not do that.” He pointed at where Ema’s squad was doing the Peaceful Fist.

“Sergeant, I didn’t ask if you wanted to; I’m giving you an order to follow the regimen our magi gave us.”

“And if you make it a point, I will,” Jackow growled. “I’m saying it’s not needed.”

“Needed is such a loose term,” Gregory said calmly as he appeared from Jackow’s shadow. “Technically, all anyone needs is food, water, and air. You can even question if shelter is absolutely necessary in some cases.”

Jackow stiffened, eyes wide, when he heard Gregory behind him, then felt the light pressure of the resonance on him. Quiggly looked equally surprised to see Gregory suddenly there. The only ones who didn’t act shocked or even surprised were Ema’s squad, who just continued the Peaceful Fist without pause.

“Now, Sergeant, have I not been clear that the Peaceful Fist is for the betterment of you and your men?” Gregory asked.

“You have, sir,” Jackow said tightly, not turning to look at Gregory.

“Yet because I had an errand to run, to put an end to corruption of our supply chain, you thought tonight was the night to flaunt my supposed absence?”

“I was thinking of my men, sir. Giving them another night to recover didn’t seem like a bad idea.”

“Gentlemen,” Gregory said, looking to the squad who stood just to the side, “do you all think my requirement to better yourselves is too much? Did you ask for another night off?”

“No, sir!” The squad all replied loudly.

Jackow’s face went white then red; he was livid his men would flip on him.

“But none of you voiced that opinion to your sergeant, did you?” Gregory asked.

“No, sir,” this time the reply was far softer, and the men stared straight ahead, not looking his way.

“I see. Then what we have seems like a comprehensive failure all around. You should be able to bring issues to your sergeant. He was at least taking a stand with the captain, if a flawed stance. Where he erred was in thinking I wouldn’t be back and letting that make him a little lazy. That is what this was, right, Sergeant? A lack of motivation, not an actual disobedience of orders?”

Jacow swallowed and accepted the offered safety branch Gregory had just offered him. “Yes, sir.”

“Very well. I’ll keep you to continue the Peaceful Fist after the normal time ends,” Gregory said. “It will delay my dinner as well, but the thing about command is sometimes you have to accept less to ensure proper discipline and performance. Now get into formation and begin the Peaceful Fist. I will return after I drop off the supplies I brought back with me.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” Jackow saluted, still facing Quiggly, not having turned around.

“Captain, with me,” Gregory said as he walked past Jackow and headed for the back of the barracks.

Once they were at the storage shed and Gregory was offloading supplies, Quiggly cleared his throat. “Sir, why?”

“Why, what, captain?”

“Why give him a way out? Jackow was disobeying your orders. He should have been slapped down for that.”

“But right now he’s in a bad spot. His men are starting to understand that just following my orders isn’t as bad as they thought. When he wants to push back, his men will start pulling away. My way out for him allows him the chance to reevaluate his position. He’ll be pissy with his men on shift tonight, and that will lead to an argument. That argument will be the pivot point for him. He’ll either start to come around, or he’ll dig in more. If he continues to hold to his current ideals, he’ll lose his men, and eventually I’ll have to replace him. Dema is also precarious, but he’s another issue for later. Fairchild and Balno are both doing fine, and their squads are quickly reshaping their ideals. Though to be fair to Fairchild and her ladies, they were pushed into their current roles and disciplinary charges. Given clear orders, and not pushed into corners, they will grow to be sharp and show the readiness they’ve always had. Before I leave this posting, you’ll all have rotated out with another unit. You, Balno, and Fairchild all have solid futures with promotions, unless someone does something dumb.”

“But not Jackow and Dema?”

“They could both get their old disciplinaries overlooked, given better postings and earn the accolades they always wanted. Or they’ll dig in against me and learn what a rigged game that is. If you ever have to go against foresight, Captain, know that it’s always a losing game. I’ll know most of what you have planned and will have options around nearly every avenue you want to take. The sergeants, hopefully, don’t have to learn that the hard way, but we’ll see.”

“But you’re still giving the unit things like the warming enchantments. Why aren’t those withheld until the entire unit earns them?”

“Carrots, captain,” Gregory said as he set out the last of the supplies. “It’s always a carrot or a stick. I prefer to lead with carrots. But I can and will use the stick if they won’t learn the easy way. Seeing the positives will help bring the men around, if not the sergeants.”

“Breaking the chain of command is a terrible way to lead a unit, magi.”

“When the chain of command is the problem, sometimes you have to,” Gregory snorted. “Those words come from a far wiser man than me, and I believe him.”

“Who?”

“Lighthand.”

Quiggly fell silent at that. Lionel Lighthand had been one of the magi who’d helped shape the empire under the emperor, but he’d disgraced himself in his later years. Saying the magi was a great man was true, but also not. Quiggly, though, was never going to point that out to Gregory. “Understood, sir.”

“Now, Captain, a point I’d been hoping to see corrected without having to bring it up myself,” Gregory said, turning around to face Quiggly. “Mornings or evenings?”

“Sir?”

“You haven’t been doing the Peaceful Fist. I’d been hoping you’d see the merits and join on your own. But your not being there at all is what partially emboldened Jackow’s stunt tonight. So you’ll have a choice, mornings or evenings.”

Quiggly froze for a moment, hoping that, as the captain, he’d be able to stay out of it. His prepared arguments failed before he could voice them, Gregory staring at him with a small knowing smile. Swallowing, Quiggly exhaled. “Never fight a foresight magi; you just told me that.”

“I know you’re intelligent, Edmon. You’ve been put into bad situations for over a decade. Every time someone else pinned their failures on you, it began to kill the drive you used to have. Which led you to make your own terrible choices, and now you are here with me in the least desirable posting an army unit can have. The hope is that you give up and retire at the end of your term. They’ll win, having broken your spirit, if you let them do that. Or you use that keen mind and begin to see the right path forward. You build and grow to not only step out of the hole they pushed you into, but begin to climb over them and rise above them.”

Quiggly didn’t know what to say. It had been far too long since a superior had given him any credit. Gregory had cut to the very core of his issues with his time in the army. He’d even resigned himself to retirement when his posting ended, but Gregory was telling him it didn’t have to be that way. He could not only give the assholes who pushed him down the shaft, but he could begin to finally realize what he’d always wanted: senior officer ranks.

“Is it possible to do both, sir?” Quiggly finally asked.

“Hard paths make the best magi, or warriors,” Gregory’s smile widened. “You’ll hate your life and everything else for two weeks, but if you can bite the strap and push through, you’ll grow faster than even the best squad we have here with us.”

“I’m ready, sir,” Quiggly said, saluting.

“Follow me then, and be ready to see the shock on the faces of the unit.”

“Yes, sir,” Quiggly said as he marched after Gregory. He would pour himself into this. If Gregory was wrong, then Quiggly would stop in three weeks. Three weeks was a short time to see whether the magi was truthful or lying to him. If it was lies, then the captain would turn every ounce of intelligence he had into making Gregory’s life as difficult as possible.

When Gregory and Quiggly returned and began the Peaceful Fist, Jackow and his squad were shocked. Quiggly had skipped every night and morning; Jackow knew because he and Dema talked about the captain loafing while they had to work. Fairchild didn’t comment, but she gave a bare nod to her squad who pushed a little harder to show they were already the best in the unit.

Gregory started Quiggly at the start and didn’t push him past the usual cutoff, which meant it was a short session to start with, but Quiggly was sweating by the time it ended. As everyone else left, Gregory turned to Jackow, who hadn’t moved. Nothing was said as Gregory began the exercises again and Jackow mirrored him. The sergeant was aware that he couldn’t fuck around anymore, not if the captain was finally being roped into things. He might be resentful, but he wasn’t a complete idiot either.