I Will Fear No Evil }{ For thou art with me/Shield

[Roger Davis]

(This is a flashback thread to just before the Battle of Serenity Valley occurred. Roger was a twenty-two year old First Lieutenant in the 27th Independent Brigade recently arrived on the planet in anticipation of the battle to come. The Alliance has not arrived yet and Browncoat numbers are nowhere near the hundreds of thousands that will eventually arrive.)

March 29th, 2511 - Serenity Valley, Hera

Roger had been on Hera for a whole two days now. If not for the war on it would probably be a nice place to visit, not too different from Verbena, but there was a war on and of course that is why Roger found himself on this world. Hera was strategically important both for it's high food production but also its location on a trading crossroads. The Alliance was coming to wrest it from the hands of the Browncoats and that simply could not be allowed to happen.

The brigade was getting prepared to move out from the landing zone so other units could quickly come in behind them. Their destination was a little town called Serenity View, the kind of place nobody ever heard about but could surprisingly turn out to be of great significance to the soldiers who would fight and die to hold it.

Roger exited the temporary command tent where his captain had just assigned his platoon the duty of constructing defenses rather than simply manning them. As a kindness or more likely in the hopes that it would preserve their strength and get them there faster to work, the CO had scrounged up three trucks to carry the platoon into the valley below the town. Roger didn't question but simply followed the orders, assembling his men by the recently acquired vehicles.

[Dexter Shield]

Everyone knew the Alliance was coming, and for a Traveling Shepherd that meant one thing: People in need. Dexter looked around at the men and women that were all about him and felt a pain grow inside him. So many would die, on both sides, and he could only hope the conflict would end soon. He sighed and stood up from the large rock he had been sitting on, leaning on his stick. Although he was only 38, he felt the pains of his life more and more each day. The wounds from that day so many years ago on Whitefall had never healed perfectly, and as the days went by, he noticed it more.

As he stood in the sunlight, he decided to see about making ready for what was sure to be a busy time. He began to walk towards a group of soldiers who were preparing to head down into the valley, hoping to secure transport, although he was prepared to walk if need be. As he walked, he thought about the lives this war was destroying, and sighed. Dexter didn't pick a side, he simply helped. However in times like these people looked with suspicion on those who would seek to cross the lines drawn on maps by the generals, and thus he was often compelled to help whoever he happened to be closest to. He didn't mind if they wore brown or purple, he simply cared for those in need.

He approached the soldiers, and heard their commander, a young man, talking to them about their plans. He waited patiently until he had finished before making his way over to speak with him. His quick eyes noted the rank of the man, and he addressed him in a respectful tone. "Excuse me Lieutenant." He began, his voice soft and pleasant. "I wonder if you might be able to take me down to the valley?" He indicated with a gesture, "I would be in your debt." He smiled and waited for a response. There was no need to bring up why he wanted to go, it didn't go well with men, to bring up the chance of death. "If there is anything I can do to help, I would be glad to do so." He opened his arms, a gesture of friendship.

[Roger Davis]

With the brief orders given, the men quickly began to mount the trucks. Roger, however, was delayed as someone called to him from behind, asking for a ride. "No hitchhikers for this ride." he said roughly as he turned to face the man, a little annoyed at the pointless interruption by what was most likely some civilian. His expression soon turned apologetic when he saw his attire, a man of God. He tried to offer a bit more explanation to his earlier refusal. "Sorry, preacher. You don't want to go where we're headed."

A preacher on a battlefield certainly wasn't the worst thing. Roger had seen tourists trying to see the war back on Beaumonde and merchants trying to profit off of it on Paquin get caught in the midst of battle. Doctors, preachers, and other useful types were acceptable but they still belonged far from the front, back at the hospitals in the rear. This shepherd was currently in a fine place, right where new troops came in and the wounded would be taken out once things got started. It was safe and still would allow him to minister to those in need.

[Dexter Shield]

Dexter wasn't surprised by the answer, although he wasn't planning on giving up so easily either. As he looked at the man in front of him he smiled and spoke. "Son, I've been shot before, and I probably will be again before my time is up." He shrugged and laughed slightly, "But I know where I'm needed." He reached out and patted the man on the shoulder. "Besides, you boys might need an extra pair of hands, and I am no stranger to a bit of hard work now and again."

He glanced up at the nearest truck and smiled. "There is space for two left," He began, and then stepped past the man and hoisted himself up into one of them. Setting his stick on the bed of the truck, he offered a hand to the young Lieutenant. "Are you coming son?"

[Roger Davis]

The preacher was certainly bold but he probably already knew from Roger's earlier reaction that he'd be safe doing something like that. Any other civilian would be ordered out if not thrown out of the vehicle for doing something like that but not a preacher. The man also had a charm to him that was hard to resist. Roger could only smile in response.

The lieutenant clasped the shepherd's hand and pulled himself into the truck. "Well I've never been shot and don't intend on getting shot any time soon, preacher. I certainly don't want you taking a bullet out there either." Roger pounded the side of the truck and soon they were off down the rough road. Shield really had been lucky. Each of the three trucks could carry twelve passengers and Roger's platoon currently included only thirty-five.

"Welcome to Second Platoon, A Company... 1st Battalion, 27th Independent Brigade." Roger said once they had gotten underway. "I'm Lieutenant Davis. These are Sergeant Boyd, Private Hendricks, Private Kosta..." he went around the group of ten other men, introducing each one until he ended with the man seated next to Shield. "... and Private Anterries."

[Dexter Shield]

Dexter smiled as he helped the man into the truck, and his smile widened as the Lieutenant spoke. "Don't worry." He said, chuckling, "I have a few tricks up my sleeve." He shrugged, "But if it is my time, then what can I do." He looked around the truck as the men were introduced, feeling a stab of sorrow as he noted how young they all seemed. His eyes had a slightly pained expression as he turned back to face the man who he know knew to be called Davis. "Pleasure to be with you." He said, nodding.

"So tell me," He said, looking at Davis, "What do you plan on doing once you get down into the valley?" He raised an eyebrow, "I hope you aren't the only ones going up against the alliance." He had seen worse odds, but the result was never pretty. "I am not that good at playing doctor." He smiled and shook his head, so many young men died these days, it was a miracle there were any left.

[Roger Davis]

The preacher's feelings on the matter were not in the least bit unexpected but it did not mean he was entirely justified in acting recklessly with his safety. "Watch therefore: for you know not what hour your Lord does come." Roger quoted. "That does not mean I would try to accelerate the time of my union with the almighty."

It would be quite a clever strategy to use a shepherd as a spy but Roger didn't both hiding the information. There was no subterfuge involved with their operation and it was also no secret that forces were assembling for a climactic battle on Hera. "We're just part of the vanguard of our brigade which is the first of many. We're to dig in and hold the valley at all costs."

[Dexter Shield]

The Lt. was quick, and at least somewhat religious. Dexter smiled and nodded. "I see you know your scripture." He said, wincing slightly as the truck hit a bump and his leg was jolted. "Which brings up so many more questions about your presence here." He smiled, and rubbed his leg. "But i suppose to each his own." The preacher subsided into silence for a time, looking out at the scenery as they passed.

"Don't worry about me being a spy or anything." he said, catching the eye of the Lt. "I don't move fast enough anymore."He shrugged, "And besides, they don't take as kindly to a man like me." He lifted a sleeve and showed a barely healed bruise, "That is what I got for helping an officer out of a burning skiff." He shook his head, "Poor man, so confused." He sighed as he thought back. "But never mind." He looked back at Davis, "The bullets do the same to you, no matter who you fight for. And I try to help everybody just the same." He looked ahead, "Such a pretty valley..." He murmured, "Such a pity..."

[Roger Davis]

Roger was far from a pacifist. His beliefs might actually have helped to strengthen his resolve that some causes were worth fighting, killing, and certainly dying for. "I read the Old Testament as much as the new, preacher. Samuel and Kings have much to say about righteous wars." Roger replied. "The cause is just and it brings me no joy to fight. It is what must be done."

"Sorry for even contemplating such a thing. War makes one overly cautious." The lieutenant apologized. There was no real need to, it being a momentary thought which he ignored, but he did so anyway. His gaze followed the preacher's as he looked upon the valley. "It is a strong position and will hopefully help us secure a quick victory." Roger stated. "Not many places in the 'verse have escaped the battles, my own home included."

[Dexter Shield]

"Oh believe me," Said Dexter after Davis said his piece, "I know there are causes that must be fought for, that doesn't mean I am not sad to watch the young men sent into the slaughter." He was impressed by Roger's resolve however, and he agreed with a large amount of what the man had said so far. "Indeed," He said, nodding. "There isn't a body in the Verse who hasn't been touched by this war. Lost a father, a mother, or a sibling." He sighed, "But more often than not it is a child." He shrugged, and shielded his eyes as he looked out over the valley.

As he stared out into the peaceful beauty, a slightly less beautiful thought slipped into his mind, and the haunting lines of the psalms echoed in his mind. "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death..." He sighed again, and looked at the boys. "Oh lord," He muttered, "I wonder if you can truly protect them all." He shook his head and returned to the conversation.

"I wish you well, in your battles." He said, as the trucks slowed, and then stopped. "All of them." He added silently. Bending, he picked up his staff, and then climbed gracefully from the truck. "Perhaps we will meet again?" He said, brightly and looked around. "Something tells me you don't need a carpenter, or a shepherd right now however, so thank you for your generosity, and I'll get out of your way." He smiled, somewhat sadly, and then reached up and put a hand on Roger's leg. "Take care of yourself Lt." He paused, "God be with you." And with that he turned and headed up a nearby trail, leading to the top of the mountain. He would be needed here soon enough.

[Roger Davis]

"And also with you." Roger quietly replied to Shield. "Thank you and good luck." With farewells exchanged, the lieutenant quickly jumped down and turned to the men still on the trucks. "Let's go! Let's go! Someone want to tell me why the preacher is the fastest to disembark?"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

(April 27th, 2511 - 29 days later, Battle of Serenity Valley)

"DOC!" A bloodied man was hurriedly carried into the battalion field hospital on a makeshift stretcher. Hendricks, Kosta, Anterries, and Boyd carefully placed their lieutenant on the operating table as the surgeon and then the company commander came in. All four foot-soldiers also appeared to be in awful shape having sustained wounds of their own in the battle.

"Gunship... it strafed us. He got... is he going to make it?" Hendricks stammered.

"Let me work!" the surgeon angrily shot back.

"30mm round right through his hip. We did what we could, doc." Boyd explained in an authoritative yet apologetic tone.

"You should have seen him out there, captain, and now he's lost his leg!" Kosta hurriedly said in a mix of emotions fueled by adrenaline. The captain merely dismissed him with a hand wave and a few "yes"s.

It was as bad as they said and looked even worse. Roger's survival was unlikely and the survival of his limb seemed impossible as it appeared to hang by a thread. The gushing blood both from above and below the wound only caused more confusion and morbid pessimism. The man looked up at them, only half in touch with reality through the pain.

[Dexter Shield]

Shield was working hard to keep men alive, he had never seen anything quite like this. The wounded just kept coming, and he watched as man after man died. All around him there was death, and every step he took, someone wanted last rites. He had held more hands in the last minutes of life than he cared to count, and it didn't show any sign of letting up. He did what he could to help, and there were victories. He found comfort in the fact that many who were coming in were still living, and would survive. But so many wouldn't.

He saw a large commotion and recognized the faces of some of Davis' men. As he watched, he saw a mangled man being examined by a surgeon, and his heart skipped a beat. It was Davis himself. Shield walked briskly over, stopping a distance away, to avoid interfering. He heard the cause of the injury, and shook his head, "Looks like the bullet found you after all..." He said, and he sighed. From the looks of things, there would be need for a preacher soon.

Acting on a sudden urge, the preacher walked forward, and careful to stay out of the surgeon's way, he knelt next to the Lt. and took a firm hold of his hand, "How are you doing son?" He asked, trying to keep the man awake, "That is a hell of a mosquito bite you have."

[Roger Davis]

The surgeon busied himself with the injury and the introduction of an anesthetic only added to Roger's clouded state of mind. In the commotion he saw a familiar face pass along the outskirts of those speaking and then the face came closer. The injured man reached out to the preacher who took his hand. Roger gripped tightly, much tighter than he intended to.

"My... my men... how a, how are my men?" He fought to try and get the words yet despite his effort his voice was still weak. He tried to continue on about needing to get back to them and how they were still out there but those attempts to speak were even less coherent. After a while the surgeon finally placed a hand on his chest to stop his weak attempts to get up. The physical contact seemed to completely change his frame of mind and he really saw the preacher for the first time now. "Watch therefore..... for, for... for you know not what hour... your Lord does come." He quietly said to Shield. "But... I would like... very much like to be in, in a state of grace... should the hour come."

[Dexter Shield]

Shield gripped his Roger's hand tightly as well, trying to be as calming an influence as he could be. The man asked about his men, and Dexter looked at the soldier nearest him, if he remembered the man's name was Kosta. The kid shook his head, all but in tears himself. Shield sighed, and gave the Lt.'s hand a squeeze. "They'll be fine." He said, "Just fine." He took out a hand kerchief and wiped the dirt and blood from Roger's face, hoping he wasn't going to be the next victim of this slaughter.

He listened to the man's next words, and then smiled. "Son, I only bury the dead." He said and patted Roger's chest with his free hand. "And you, my friend, have a great many more miles to go before you will need my services." He smiled and gave his hand another encouraging squeeze. Shield knew that he had to try and keep Roger awake and as alert as possible, and so he decided to get his mind off the pain. "Do you have any family?" He asked, hoping to keep the poor soul from sliding away, "What are you going to do when you get out of this war?"

[Roger Davis]

"I.... I ain't done fightin'... but I'd, I'd like it just in case." Roger replied to Shield's attempt at encouragement. "If it's... all the, all the same to you." He was scared, sure, but he had faith... faith that he might soon be in paradise and that he would one day see the preacher again there.

Roger nodded to the questions about his family. "S'pose I've got the farm back home." He winced at the pain causing the pitch of his last word to turn into a bit of a whelp. "Don't have a, a trade or nothin'... only ever, ever worked on the farm. 'Guess I'll turn out just like... just like my pa."

As the two men talked it was clear to everyone but Roger that the surgeon was reaching the end of what he could do which surprisingly had not included grabbing a saw. The wound still looked as bad as before but most of the heavy bleeding had been stabilized. Meanwhile the captain was having a heated argument with Boyd and to a lesser extend Hendricks about the failure of the operation and his disappointment in the platoon.


(Unless you want to keep this going I figure in my next post I'll RP him getting taken back from the lines to another station.)