Stark’s Crusade

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Stark’s Crusade Page 31

by John G. Hemry


  “Me too,” Stark whispered too quietly for anyone else to hear.

  “But the documentation surrounding that court-martial was complete, indicating you were personally willing to accept responsibility for your actions and decisions.”

  “I still will,” Stark declared, louder this time. “Nobody else has to be blamed or punished. It was my call.”

  The man shook his head. “In light of all that has happened, we must add that particular case in with all the other deaths and events which everyone wishes had never taken place. Otherwise, everyone believes you all acted always in the highest traditions of your service. I believe that’s the appropriate phrase?”

  “It will certainly do,” Vic replied. “I must confess, at best we expected dismissal from the military. Yet this offer says you trust us to continue on active duty.”

  “Of course it does,” the woman stated. “You had the ability to do anything you wanted, eventually, including what might have been a successful attack on the United States herself. Yet you have kept the Colony safe, you have followed the instructions of civil authorities in the Colony and your actions have been directed toward the protection of our country and our citizens. We are well aware that some of your number died heroically as part of that effort, such as the Wiseman and Gutierrez individuals and their crews who we see have been recognized in the new name of the Colony spaceport.” The woman nodded toward Lieutenant Colonel Hayes. “And, of course, we cannot forget the risks you took to ensure the survival of forces which were here to attack you. Actions speak louder than words. If the last few decades of experience with national leaders have taught us anything, they’ve taught us that. Your actions, especially those on behalf of others, speak for themselves.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “Don’t thank me. You earned this amnesty, and the ranks you are being offered, by your actions. Had you acted differently, you’d be under arrest at this moment. But I believe if you’d acted differently our country would have faced a far worse crisis. The government owes you a debt as well as an apology, and it’s about time we started acknowledging our debts.”

  Campbell smiled, his happiness at the outcome clear. “You’re saying that while Sergeant Stark was winning the military war, he was also winning political battles? That’s ironic. I’ve never met a less political individual.”

  The woman smiled back. “I assume that is meant as a compliment to Sergeant Stark. The politicians in this room will try not to take it adversely. But, you’re correct. Sergeant Stark, by your actions you won another war, one you apparently didn’t know you were fighting.”

  Stark nodded, his brain feeling numbed, but something nagged at it nonetheless. Something I didn’t see. Oh, yeah. He checked the wording of the offer quickly. “Ma’am, there is a problem. This offer only talks about the enlisted personnel up here being given amnesty. We have some officers as well. A few combat troops, some chaplains, and some doctors. They stayed, too, by choice. They ought to be included in this.”

  “Sergeant Stark, we’ve familiarized ourselves with your military record.” Stark tried not to wince in reaction to the words. “You do not appear to have had an overly high opinion of officers. Are you saying you would now refuse this offer in order to protect the interests of a few officers?”

  “I can’t refuse it, ma’am. I have to do what you say. But those officers are my officers. I look out for my people. I’m asking you to include them in the offer.”

  The woman glanced over at Lieutenant Colonel Hayes. “I see no reason to deny Sergeant Stark’s proposed modification,” Hayes stated. “The officers of whom he speaks have participated in the same actions which have motivated us to offer amnesty to the enlisted personnel.”

  “Very well.” The woman looked around at her other companions, who all nodded in assent. “Our offer is amended to include the officers serving with your forces, Sergeant.” She turned stern. “There will be no more amnesties from this date. Our country has come through a serious crisis. It needs to develop confidence in its leaders once again. And in its institutions. You do realize that henceforth you will be expected to follow orders from superior officers?”

  Vic barely stifled a laugh, murmuring so low only Stark could hear. “He never has before. Why start now?”

  Stark glared at Vic, then nodded to the civilian. “Yes, ma’am. Mr. Campbell can tell you I understand my place in the order of things.”

  “So he has already informed us. As I told you, that played a major role in our offer to you, Sergeant.” She eyed Campbell in turn. “I suppose with the military under our control once more we wouldn’t need to even offer you better conditions, would we? But being able to do something doesn’t mean you should. Our offer stands. Is the civil segment of this rebellion also willing to accept it?”

  Campbell looked over at Sarafina, then nodded. “Gladly. As representatives of the Colony, we are happy to accept.”

  “Then welcome back to the United States, all of you.”

  Stark shook his head, drawing a surprised glance from the woman. “Ma’am, we never left. Not really.”

  The civilian woman seemed perplexed for a moment, then nodded. “It’s strange. Americans have always feared their military to some extent. We’ve seen you as the greatest internal threat to our democracy. Instead, you turned out to be among its staunchest defenders.”

  “We could’ve told you that, ma’am, but at some point the military and the civilians stopped talking to each other.”

  “That will surely change. There will be no more televising of combat for entertainment purposes. You won’t be dehumanized in that fashion any longer. When we gained control of the government we finally learned the extent of military personnel casualties in the last few years. It was a considerable shock. There is simply no way to rebuild our military forces without enlisting large numbers of citizens who did not grow up inside the military.”

  “Good.” Stark grinned over at Vic, who looked as if she was suffering from a sudden attack of indigestion. “That’ll cause some culture shock on both sides, but it’ll be good for everyone.”

  More talk, more handshakes, then Stark was standing outside the conference room, a dazed look on his face. What the hell just happened? The troops are okay. That’s what’s important. He jerked himself back to alertness as he became aware of someone approaching him.

  Stacey Yurivan stood before Stark, admiration plain on her face. “Reynolds broadcast the deal while you were still in there. Stark, I really underestimated you. What a plan! What a scheme! Raise total hell with everyone and everything and end up smelling like a rose. Someday I’m going to insist you show me how to work scams that well.”

  “Stace, it was never a plan. Never a scheme. It all just happened because it seemed like the right thing to do at the time.”

  “Sure. Right. Whatever you say. You, Stark, are King of Scams. I salute you, sir!” Yurivan’s hand came up in a rigidly correct salute, which she held until Stark returned the gesture.

  “Stace, get out of here.”

  “Yessir, yessir, three bags full.”

  “Congratulations, General Stark,” Vic offered as well, rendering her own salute as she did so.

  “Don’t call me that.”

  “Sorry. Military etiquette, you know.” She indicated the shoulder of his uniform. “You’ll have to pull off those sergeant chevrons and put stars on instead.”

  “Don’t wanna do it.”

  “Terrible things happen to people, Ethan. Some get shot, some get promoted to general. You were one of the unlucky ones.”

  “Can I still get shot, instead?”

  “Not by me.”

  “Of course not.” Stark grinned. “Colonel Reynolds.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You’re second in command. That means you’ll be at least a full eagle colonel.” Reynolds frowned, obviously trying to think of a response. “Maybe now you’ll treat me with more respect.”

  “In your dreams, sol
dier. What you need, Ethan Stark, is someone giving you constant reality checks!”

  “Which is something you happen to be real good at. I never would’ve started this if I’d known—”

  “Ethan, I went in there with you ready for both of us to walk out in chains. Maybe wanting to do right finally counted for something for once.”

  “And look at our reward.”

  “What? You still want a firing squad? Look, the troops have always known they could count on you. Now the government feels the same way. And it’s not because you’re handsome or smart or articulate—”

  “Thanks.”

  “—it’s because of what you did when you could do anything you wanted. Right? That’s the measure of a person, Ethan. You done good. You saved us.”

  “I… guess I did. No. Anybody could’ve—”

  “Yeah. Right. Tell it to Kate Stein next time you dream about Patterson’s Knoll.”

  “It’s a funny thing, Vic. I haven’t been dreaming about that battle lately. It used to be every night. Every night.”

  “Maybe your subconscious is trying to tell you something. Oh, by the way, a friend of yours came up with the negotiators. Wrangled himself a position as an assistant.” She pointed down the hall, to where a large sergeant stood. “Come on over, Sergeant Paratnam. Say hi to the general.”

  “Don’t call me that,” Stark repeated, then smiled at his friend. “Rash. Long time, no see.”

  “Not that long. At least this time nobody’s shooting at us.” Rash grinned, reaching out to slap Stark on the shoulder. “Damn. Glad you’re back on the same side.”

  “Me too.”

  “I got one question, though. You’re gonna be in charge here now, right?”

  “Of the mil, yeah. Hard to believe.”

  “That’s putting it mildly. So, Stark, if you’re the big boss, who the hell’s orders do you disobey?”

  “I still got Vic. I ignore her advice all the time.”

  Vic nodded in agreement. “Most of the time, anyway.”

  “So,” Rash continued, looking from Stark to Reynolds, “you two gonna get married now, or what?”

  “Married?” Vic apparently couldn’t decide between amazement or laughter at the question. “Me and this goon? What’ve you been smoking, Rash? You seriously disoriented by the gravity? Got some bad air on your shuttle?”

  “Nah,” Rash protested. “I mean, it just seems right, you two together always.”

  “Always?” Vic questioned. “All the time? With Ethan Stark? I fail to see just what I’ve done in life that would merit that kind of punishment.”

  “Vic, you two were made for each other.”

  “If so, the Maker sure has an odd sense of humor.” Vic shook her head. “See you around, Rash. I’ve got to make sure everybody’s got the word that we’re all official again. Take care of yourself, you big ape.”

  “Likewise.” Paratnam watched her walk away, then turned to Stark. “Ethan, I will never understand that woman.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  “Can I still call you Ethan?”

  “Call me anything else and I’ll slug ya.”

  “Want a beer?”

  “Sure. Rash, what the hell am I gonna do being a general?”

  “Hmmm.” Rash considered the question for a moment. “Maybe you could do somethin’ so outrageous they’d haveta bust you back to sergeant.”

  “Really? Yeah. That might work. I could—”

  He was interrupted by Vic’s voice booming back down the corridor. “Don’t even think about it, Ethan Stark!”

 

 

 


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