Orphan Brigade by Henry V. O'Neil Page B

that Command was afraid to report them accurately. So instead of combining a few beat-­up units into one, they kept them all on the books and fed them replacements.” The eyes twinkled, and the corners of Watt’s mouth turned up slightly. “I think the Orphans somehow got lost in that little shuffle, then somebody probably decided it wouldn’t hurt to have an emergency brigade handy.”
    Mortas stirred uneasily, not sure if he was supposed to respond. Watt continued, with no indication of whether or not he’d expected a comment.
    â€œSo that’s what we are. A fire brigade. We’re used when and how we’re needed, often on short notice. Which means we have to be ready for just about anything. We’re currently in a period of rest and refitting, but you’ll find that the tempo of our training is quite challenging. You’ll be getting a platoon filled with top-­notch NCOs and a lot of experienced non-­NCO enlisted men, so you’re in a position to learn from soldiers who really know their stuff.”
    Watt rose, signaling with a wave that Mortas was to remain seated. Unlike most of the soldiers Mortas had seen so far, Watt’s fatigues were freshly pressed. The brigade commander looked out the window for a moment, hands clasped behind his back, before sitting at the other end of the couch.
    â€œYou have only one job here, Lieutenant. And that’s being a platoon leader. Everybody knows who your father is and what you experienced with the alien. So here’s how this is going to work:
    â€œThis brigade is made up of warfighters. Most of the men who volunteered to come here did so with the understanding that sometimes we get handed jobs that are too big for us. Many of them did that because they were sick of the second-­guessing and other nonsense you find in far too many of the units out here. That was one of the worst effects of the Purge: it fast-­tracked the careers of some extremely political officers who now hold high positions in the Force.
    â€œUnfortunately, that means that some very important decisions are made based on factors that have nothing to do with winning the war or preserving the lives of our troops. You as an officer, no matter what rank you attain, must never forget that we’re fighting to win the war, and to keep as many of our soldiers alive as possible.
    â€œSo from this point forward you’re not the son of the Chairman of the Emergency Senate. You’re Lieutenant Jander Mortas, platoon leader in the First Independent Brigade.”
    â€œThank you, sir. I was hoping that would be the case.”
    A momentary smile. “I’m not surprised. I read the report of your experience with the alien infiltrator, and as far as I’m concerned you did a damn fine job in a tough situation.”
    â€œI wouldn’t have made it without the others, sir.” The words came out easily, and for the first time the memory of his dead friends didn’t fill Mortas with regret.
    â€œWell said. The Orphan Brigade is a team, and the team-­building skills you demonstrated on Roanum got you into this unit. You relied on the talents and experience of the ­people who were with you, and I encourage you to do the same thing with your platoon.
    â€œWhich brings me to another issue. You’ll be in First Battalion, but we have an excellent lieutenant in Second Battalion whom I understand is an acquaintance of yours. His name is Emile Dassa, and his father was executed for his connection to a general officer who died in the Purge. Do you know him?”
    Mortas’s feeling of calm evaporated. For a moment he wondered if the brigade commander had been lulling him into a false sense of security, but quickly decided the man must already know the full story.
    â€œYes, sir. I only met Dassa once, years ago in prep school. He made some accusations against my father, there was a fight, and he