Jenkins and Johnson sat in the debriefing room for nearly an hour, waiting. The red light on the camera wasn't on, which meant that they weren't recording the eventual conversation. That was a mixed message.
Eventually, the captain entered the room. The camera was still off. This was beginning to feel more like an interrogation than a debriefing.
The captain pulled out his chair and sat. He placed in front of himself several papers. He looked as though he was searching for the right words to begin the conversation.
Jenkins started it for him.
"What is going on?"
"It's over."
"What do you mean it's over? We had them!"
"I mean the war, boys." He shook his head. "I tried to comm you. Command's given into the requests of the Alliance. The history books will say that we've lost this battle as well as the war, regardless of what we've done and seen, and paying little mind to whatever concessions the Independents were able to bargain for."
Jenkins and Johnson weren't expecting that, of all things for their Captain to say. After the shock wore off, they began venting very loudly simultaneously. It wasn't often that they spoke over each other, but neither stopped for several minutes.
The Captain let them rant about the evils of the 'Black Boots' and the noble 'Red Shirts' cause and all it and they had stood for. He waited for them to get it out. He couldn't blame them one bit, and was proud and not one bit surprised that they were showing more emotion over the news than anyone else in their entire group.
When they had calmed down and were asking questions that were no longer rhetorical, he was ready to answer them.
"What happens now?"
"In general, most of our soldiers will be absorbed into the Alliance." He allowed another short outburst before interrupting them. "Yes, I know it sounds offensive to work for them after fighting against their control... and some soldiers will be opting out. Others may stay in. I, myself have a family to feed."
There was silence for the first time, he'd shocked them badly. "I know how horrible that sounds, but let me explain." They nodded, still silent.
"We all got in this to protect our planet and to fight against joining the Alliance. We can't fight the Alliance anymore, but out here on the rim and near Hutt space... there's plenty still to protect our planet from. Nobody who doesn't volunteer will be shipped out to 'bring other systems into line'. We won't be part of the conquering force, we'll just be serving our planet all the same. Maybe even bring some good changes from the inside. Who knows."
Johnson looked down at the table, still visibly upset. "We can't do that, Captain. We can't join them."
"No. You can't. You're being charged with the murder of Alliance soldiers in violation of the peace agreement."
"That's insane." Jenkins laughed.
"Yep. And exactly what we'd expect from the Alliance." Johnson added.
The Captain tossed them a security card. "I've informed HQ that you two overpowered me, and have stolen a ship... and won't likely show up for the hearing. They'll have investigators here before too long." He turned to walk out of the room.
Johnson called for him to wait a moment. "Captain... if we're being charged with murder... why were you trying to convince us to join the Black Boots?"
"I wasn't trying to convince you to join me. I was trying to convince you not to hate me. I'm sorry."
----------------------
The various authorities were still not organized and there was no opposition for them as they left the system.
An hour passed as they stared into the streaking stars that represented their unknown future.
Jenkins clenched his eyelids shut against the moisture that grew there. "I would have died for our cause, Johnson."
"As would I. Gladly. That's what we were in for. Now we're not just tossed aside, but outlaws."
"I'm not sure... what to do now."
Johnson stared at the course they'd set in and couldn't find a single system that provided an answer. "We find a cause worth dying for. Worth living our lives for."
Jenkins nodded emphatically. "One that won't compromise and will allow us to serve as we wanted to all along."
"We'll need new identities."
Jenkins smiled for the first time since they left for battle the night previous. "Call me Shirt."
Johnson laughed, and tried to come up with a similar moniker to pay homage to their lost cause, as he would never be referred to as 'Boot' again. "Call me.... Red?"
"Reed." Schyrt amended for him.
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