[Wesley]

Synopsis: I loved Ender's Game. This is an tribute to Orson Scott Card. It is my first attempt at fan fiction. The League War, if you recall, was briefly mentioned by Card as an immediate aftermath of the Final Invasion. We are left to wonder about the Marines and World forces who fought the week long war. This is my own rendition and is in no way representative of Orson Card's ideas or the "Enderverse". It is simply a salute to a great writer.

The League War
Chapter One

"Platoon Thirty Twenty Six all present and accounted for!"

"Platoon Thirty Twenty Seven all present and accounted for!"

"Platoon Thirty Twenty Eight all present and accounted for!"

The daily ramblings of the Inter-Galatic Fleet Marine Corps echoed from bulkhead to bulkhead. Toon Sergeants and all pressed firmly at attention until Mike Company was dismissed to chow and Commander Whitel went on with his inspection in the next corridor.

Grey walls and grey floors, ribbons of lights that changed: Green, green, brown, silver, black, black. Go here; go there, day in and day out. Over and over. Sure they had the vids. The game room was sometimes fun. They had their personal desks with all of the intricacies and games but those were only entertaining for so long. Besides, the letters to and from home could be censored by the fleet and no one could beat the Giant's Drink anyway.

The Marines on the Star Ship Manitoba and been away from earth for a year and a half. Coming up on shore leave within six months, the anticipation of home was killer.

"I hate these bloody fleet inspections," Mumbled the always complaining Sulley Gonzalez. Today, Whitel had given him a rough time over a fibre strand jutting from his uniform collar. "I'm always getting razzed over something. I wish I could just go home."

"Cos' you messed all de time?" Gerald Cox used school slang when his mood was right and he managed to elbow Sulley sharply as the platoon collected into formation, "You are home! Star Ship Manitoba! Second largest fleet in the IF! Why don't you just square up?"

"Ow, come on now," Wincing slightly and fiendishly rubbing his thick arm, Sulley shot a look to Gerald, "You piss-ant, Jerry, that smarts."

"You'll live Worm."

Mess was crowded as usual. Gerald wore a wide smile because he was a "double rationer" so he slapped Sulley on the shoulder and slid his thin figure out of sight to the front of the line. Sulley slumped his shoulders slightly and picked up a tray. He was quite a bit taller than Jerry and most Marines around him. He usually tried to sag his shoulders, hiding it or attempting to fit in. As a consequence of his insecurity, Sulley was awkward with everyone except Gerald Cox who, for the most part, convinced him to even join the Marine Corps in the first place.

"Double rat must be nice huh?" Someone said, looking over Sulley's very wide left shoulder. The line moved up a hair but Sulley didn't acknowledge the comment except in his head. Yes, double rations would be nice.

"Dom," Cox poked Dominic Murry with his tray as he came by Thirty Twenty Six, "How's Second squad in your toon?" Cox turned on his heel to hear the answer.

"Trashy," The sighs began from the men lined up behind Dominic when he answered, "We failed barrack's this morning so we're all on guard this week."

"Tough luck, come sit with us." And Cox came to the rest of the double rats and jumped into place.

"Come on, Murry we don't have to pull guard for this it's not our watch even, " These were the common cries among the men in Dominic's care as he turned a deaf ear. In reality, they could get away with not posting guard. Just let Fox Company take it this week like the schedule reads. But no, Dominic and the other squad leaders had been reprimanded again over un-swept barracks and untidy racks, and this was the last straw. They would post guard whether it was fair or not, and the deck would be swabbed and swabbed again.

It took a while but at last the tail end of Mike company shuffled through with their trays and big Sulley was in their midst his body swaying back and forth as he walked.

"What took you so long, Sulley? I could eat a whole bugger by the time you get through the chow line!" Cox was seated next to Dominic, cramming his second roll into his mouth.

"I'm always last," Suley groaned deeply as he sat across from the two.

"Shut up Cox. Geez, let the man eat." Dominic too, couldn't help but grin at the large Sulley. Everything about him made a man feel sorry for him. The only possible thing that could get Sulley through Marine Corps life was Gerald Cox. It was as if Sulley was a big strong shell that needed a living being inside to control him. Sulley's only hope was Gerald with him every step of the way shouting things like, "Be like Mazer Rackham, Sulley!" So they were always together.

"Sulley," Dominic was chewing his food, "What do you think I should make them clean tonight?"

Sulley looked surprised. Then as he processed his thoughts his head rose slowly. "I don't know what you mean Dominic." His voice was low, and his eyes were wide, set seriously on Dom's face.

"Come one, we failed barracks today."

"That's number three." Gerald pointed out, still eating, face down to his meal.

Sulley Smiled. Gerald always made funny jokes with Dominic.

"Yes, of course, it's funny." Dominic sat up to wipe his mouth. "So, again, Sulley. What do you suggest?"

"Make them stand four on four off." Gerald chimed in again.

"No," Dom shook his head fervently, "I can't stand that. We had to stand four and four in Kodiak and I hope I never have to do that again." Dominic's eyes were back on the large one, "Sulley?"

"Make them spit shine their shoes?" Vegetable fragments crumbled from the corner of Sulley's mouth when he smiled, "I don't like to shine my shoes."

"That's not evil enough Sull. I'm tired of this you know? I want to make them pay."

Gerald gargled some ideas like a leaky faucet and Sulley laughed at every one. It made Gerald feel good, Dom thought. So let them have their fun. The matter at hand wasn't too serious and in reality standing guard for a second week would be torture enough for Dominic's toon. They would complain, yes, and some would sneak out to watch the vids. However, for the most part they would learn that he and the others were serious. Hopefully they would square up. Hopefully.

Evening came and Dom pulled his squad aside as the first guard prepared their watch. He stood them at attention for a moment staring and watching their faces.

"At ease," Dom said lightly, cross armed in front of his men.

"Ho, Corporal Murry." In unison and on time they spoke.

"Ho, Second squad." He breathed and shook his head. "Don't mess this up fellas. I'm serious. It rolls down hill and you know this. If I, or any of the squad leaders, or Sergeant Vasquez or fire guard or your own mother catches any of you off post." His vision passed over the men watching his every move, "I'll start your admission sequence into the brig. And you can wait the next six months in a cell. Understood?"

"Aye, aye Corporal." Answered back.

"I won't speak for any other squad. But Second Squad won't be off post. Correct?"

"Yes, sir." They returned. Someone was nervous and had said "Aye sir" quietly. Sounded like Michael’s voice but Dom didn't mind. He hated doing this anyway. He wanted to be friends with these men but duty had called him to be tough.

"Dismissed." And the men scattered to their racks.

Dom's platoon was one of the few that didn't have a woman assigned to them. Gerald's had three and he couldn't stand them. So naturally, Dom always teased him.

The squad bay was full, in all about one hundred men. They were loud and raunchy until the lights went out and then they started snoring. A few of the squad leaders were calm fellows. Most where corporals going up for Sergeant so they need to make a good impression. Their men were always younger and fresh out of boot, excited about the fleet and looking for action foaming at the mouth waiting to kill some buggers. After a year or so of floating around space however, those dreams slowly died. Dom's platoon was one of the few that didn't have a woman assigned to them. Gerald's had three and he couldn't stand them. So naturally, Dom always teased him.

Dom sat on the edge of his metal footlocker and pulled off his boots sighing and then pulling his socks off. He heard Jeehee Laksmono, the very dark haired Corporal of First Squad slide off the rack beside him and head over his way.

"Ho, Dom," Jeehee slid his brown hand playfully over Dom's very short hair and sat on the foot locker.

"Ho, Jee. Get up a second?" Dom lifted the lid to the locker and stuck his sweaty socks inside and they sat back down.

"They'll mildew, the socks will." Jeehee nodded his head as if to convince Dom of what he said.

"I'm too tired to care, and I wash tomorrow anyway so," He stopped as Jeehee didn't seem interested but was smiling intently at Dom. "Okay, what'd you do?"

"I'm making them clean the crappers!" Jeehee said gleefully.

Dom made a "gag" sign and shook his head as Jeehee continued, "I know, sick huh?"

"That's why they have bots for that Jee," Dom kind of laughed to himself, you only cleaned your own crapper in boot camp.

"Yeah, yeah, Bosh, you seen the vids of boot? They's pretty light on 'em now since we've been through."

Dominic shook his head still smiling, "Everyone says that. I bet they're just as miserable"

"Oh well, the bunch of bugger-lovers can have it. I requested the bot disabled this morning so it'll be nice and ripe by the time First squad gets to it." Jeehee was so pleased with himself it was sadistic.

"And what about you?" Dom asked standing up from the foot locker as Jeehee turned to climb onto the top rack.

"What about me? I'll be standin' guard at the head to make sure nobody fouls anything up!" Jeehee was pulling his trousers off and wildly kicking his legs as he did so.

"Yeah, sure. I believe you." Dom gave Jeehee look over his shoulder as he hung his blouse inside his locker.

Jeehee swung his BDUs into the locker beside his rack and slammed the door and pulling the covers over his head called out, "I know. I'll be asleep."

Lights out came and the changing of the guard went smoothly all night. The men had accepted, for the most part, their fate and were good Marines at heart. Dom's watch came at 0200 and he rose from his rack and dressed, sleepy at first but his eyes cleared as he walked the hall pacing and pacing.

The week panned out the same almost every day, Sulley was the butt of jokes at chow, the squad bay was never cleaned until someone said something about it and the vids were the same old, same old. The guard went better than expected for Dom, as he had only one Marine sleep through half his watch and make up for it by adding another voluntarily. Day in day out. Over and over. Always the same.