For Sky, that meant Earth. The vice minister had already called her, congratulating her on what she’d achieved, and telling her she was expected back in Brussels. Sky didn’t feel like she deserved congratulations. She’d been packed up like so much cargo and carried off Purgamentium by Corporal McKeever, Hondo, she’d found out was his first name.
She knew she was lucky. There had been close to 100,000 people on the planet before the Dictymorphs attacked with another 6,000 in orbit. Half of those in orbit and only 11,000 of those on the planet made it off alive—10,942, to be exact. The number was burned into her head.
There had almost assuredly been survivors of the attack, people who made it into the wilderness. People killed by the UAM.
With tens of thousands of Dictymorphs on the planet, the UAM had authorized a planet buster strike, the first one since the Soldiers of God homeworld 150 years ago. The Brotherhood, although not a participant in the war effort, had demanded it. With the concurrence of the Klethos-lee, the Secretary General had given the order, and the planet was hit with not one, but five of the planet busters, turning Purgamentium into a glowing ball of gas and rubble. The surveillance ships saw no signs of escaping Dictymorphs.
Some of the surviving Klethos made it off the planet before the strike, but any surviving humans not yet rescued were lost. The undernet was abuzz with the story of a New Budapest rapier pilot who swopped into the mountains north of the main bases to pull out four Confed soldiers just before the strike, his small craft damaged by the blast wave as it fled the doomed planet. The soldiers were the last four saved.
Sky had only casually wondered about her future. They’d suffered a huge defeat, and she was part of that. She knew it was possible that she could have received some of the blame. It had happened often enough before. But oddly enough, she hadn’t been concerned about that. If it happened, it happened.
But the vice-minister had been pretty clear. Her star was rising, and she was to return to a promotion and a position of higher authority.
Just as she hadn’t been too concerned about getting punished, neither could she get excited about the promotion. At best she was ambivalent.
She’d do the job, and do whatever it took to defeat the Dictymorphs. This was now cemented into her DNA, something that she knew was going to take every waking moment until the Grubs were destroyed, wiped from the galaxy. It was just that she took no real pride in anything. Too many people, good people, had been lost for her to feel anything like that. But just like breathing and eating, she couldn’t escape her mission even if she wanted to.
And she didn’t want to.
She checked her PA. She still had three hours left of rack time, but she knew she wasn’t going to use it. She might as well vacate it for her next rack-mate. She swung her legs over the edge of the rack and slid out, landing lightly on the deck. Hitting the small green button on the head of the bunk, she let her rack-mates know it was free.
With so much surveillance over and on the planet, there were more recordings than she could ever hope to see. She wanted to watch the Dictymorphs land again to see if something new would catch her eye. She’d planned on starting on that in another day or so, but there was nothing like the present to get going.
Sky slid her feet into her ship’s slippers stepped out of the berthing, closing the hatch behind her.
ITZUKO-2
Camp Fiona Xeras
Epilogue
Hondo
Sergeant Hondo McKeever looked into the mirror, checking his uniform for the slightest imperfection. He wanted to make a good impression.
He’d never thought he’d be a Drill Instructor. He’d never wanted to be one. But the needs of the Corps trumped anything else, and what the Corps needed now was experienced instructors.
A cloud passed through his mind as the thought hit him, but he brushed it aside. It was easier now than it had been for the first few months after Purgamentium. Corps-wide, there were slightly over 5,000 Marines with combat experience against the Grubs, and they were a vital and valuable commodity. Three thousand of them had already transferred by the time of the Grub attack, and another two had managed to get off the planet during and after the attack. That left 5,000 Marines and Navy corpsmen to train the next wave of Marines.
And the wave was a tsunami. The Federation was officially on a war footing. For the first time since the War of the Far Reaches, the Federation had instituted a draft. Over a million young men and women had already been inducted, and the first recruit training graduates were about to start infantry training. And that was where combat vets like Hondo fit in.
Sitting (nervously, he knew) in Classroom A, were 492 recently graduated Marine privates. Boot camp, with all the stress associated with it, was over. But now, the hard part was about to begin. Failing boot camp meant disgrace and a trip back home. Failing infantry training meant dying in battle and getting fellow Marines killed. It was up Hondo to keep that from happening.
Every one of those 492 privates would see battle, Hondo knew. The Grubs were out there, and they were coming. The Marines, Navy, and the other forces in the coalition were all that stood between survival and genocide.
Hondo would rather be at the point of the spear. He wanted to try out the new weapons pouring out of the Alley, the nickname for the huge research facility built on 700 klicks north of Camp Xeras. But deep down, he knew why he was going to be stuck as a School of Infantry DI, teaching Module 1. Gunny Leung was technically the senior instructor, but Hondo was the key player. He had the street cred.
Finally satisfied with his appearance, he left his small room, walked across the passage, and knocked on the hatch.
“You ready?”
“Sure am, Sergeant,” Corporal BK Dodds, said as she opened her hatch.
The two Marines left the barracks and walked across the quad towards the classrooms. They stopped, however, halfway across, at the plaque bolted to the big rock just in front of the flagpole.
They looked at it, neither saying a word. It was still shiny, unblemished by weather.
Camp Fiona L. Xeras
Named in Honor of Lance Corporal Fiona L. Xeras, United Federation Marine Corps
Holder of the United Assembly of Man Gold Starburst
KIA 4 September 433
Battle of K-3393
Hondo still felt a lump in his throat when he looked at the plaque. It was not just for Fiona, but for all of them. Sergeant Mbangwa. Sunrise. Sam. Doc Pataki. Rosy. Dixie. Loren. Brute. Tinman. Staff Sergeant Aster. Lieutenant Silas. And so many more. Brothers and sisters, all lost for the cause.
He reached over with his thumb and rubbed Fiona’s name.
Rest in Peace, Marine.
“OK, BK, let’s go train some Marines.”
The two friends pulled their head high, stood straight, and strode over to the classroom to begin their next mission.
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Other Books by Jonathan Brazee
The United Federation Marine Corps
Recruit
Sergeant
Lieutenant
Captain
Major
Lieutenant Colonel
Colonel
Commandant
Coda
Rebel
(Set in the UFMC universe)
Behind Enemy Lines
(A UFMC Prequel)
The United Federation Marine Corps’ Lysander Twins
Legacy Marines
Esther’s Story: Recon Marine
Noah’s Story: Marine Tanker
Esther’s Story: Special Duty
Blood United
Women of the United Federation Marine Corps
Gladiator
Sniper
Corpsman
High Value Target (A Gracie Medicine Crow Short Story)
BOLO Mission (A Gracie Medicine Crow Short Story)
Weaponized Math (A Gracie Medicine Crow Short Story Available in the Expanding Universe Anthology 3
The United Federation Marine Corps’ Grub Wars
Alliance
Civil War (Working title—coming soon)
The Return of the Marines Trilogy
The Few
The Proud
The Marines
The Al Anbar Chronicles: First Marine Expeditionary Force--Iraq
Prisoner of Fallujah
Combat Corpsman
Sniper
Werewolf of Marines
Werewolf of Marines: Semper Lycanus
Werewolf of Marines: Patria Lycanus
Werewolf of Marines: Pax Lycanus
To The Shores of Tripoli
Wererat
Darwin’s Quest: The Search for the Ultimate Survivor
Venus: A Paleolithic Short Story
Secession
Duty
Non-Fiction
Exercise for a Longer Life
Author Website
http://www.jonathanbrazee.com
Alliance (The United Federation Marine Corps' Grub Wars Book 1) Page 20
