Colonel (The United Federation Marine Corps Book 7)

by Jonathan P. Brazee

  EARTH

  Chapter 7

  The hatch to the shuttle whispered open and Ryck, RADM Baris, and Conner Therault, the Federation chief xenobiologist, stepped out to an armed cordon of FCDC guards. A Marine captain and a Navy lieutenant commander watched the three men anxiously as they waited by the open door of a Kestrel limo.

  Ryck had been under what he described as house arrest since his return to the Mathis, never leaving his stateroom, which was guarded 24/7 by rotating two-man teams of large, tough-looking sailors. The admiral said this was simply isolation for security reasons, and Ryck understood that, but he hadn’t liked it. Other than his guards, his only face-to-face contact had been with the admiral, a brief encounter with the ship’s captain, Conner, and two of his team. Conner told him the Brotherhood reps were fit to be tied, but the official word was that Ryck was under medical quarantine. Even when the Federation personnel came into his stateroom, they went through the façade of putting on environmental suits.

  Immediately after reaching human space, Ryck had uploaded his report along with the recording of the fight between the capys and the bird-things, so the powers that be knew what the capys wanted and what was facing them. Ryck hadn’t been kept in the loop as to how this was received, but he imagined he’d kicked open an anthill.

  “You ready for this?” Conner asked him as the three men stepped off between the FCDC guards.

  “I’ve given them everything already, but yeah, let’s get it over with,” Ryck answered.

  Conner, and even the admiral, had proven to be good companions during the transit to Earth. Conner and his team had wanted as much information about the Trinoculars as possible, and Ryck had dredged up everything he could remember. His AI had been vampired, and Conner’s linguistics expert, a huge bear of a man named Alger Prose, had been ecstatic to receive that data. The linguist had kept to himself after that, but the rest of the team along with the admiral had spent hours discussing the ramifications of what had transpired. Not that what they thought would have any bearings on what was to be done. That would be decided at the highest level of the governments that were involved. But still, Ryck had been glad to have the conversations. He’d been the sole representative of man to the capys for over a week, and he was glad to bring the others into the picture.

  “Gentlemen, if we can?” the lieutenant commander asked after saluting. “They’re waiting for you.”

  The three men got into the limo and settled in for the ride to the Center. Ryck had been in Brussels for his diplomatic training, so he was familiar with the city. It had kept most of its old charm, he thought, and he rather liked it. Driving past the Cinquantenaire arch, the Basilica of the Sacred Heart, even the rows of old Flemish townhouses, their familiarity was almost homelike, and that helped calm him.

  And he needed to be calmed, he realized ruefully. He wasn’t in any trouble. In fact, the early indications he’d received from Admiral Baris was that the council was more than pleased with his mission, even if they were deeply divided as to the capy request. For once, the messenger was not being shot. Still, he was going to be meeting with the chairman and the entire council from the Federation along with the heads of states and representatives of the Brotherhood, the Confederation, Greater France, and half a dozen other governments. The Mathis had even been kept in a far-system orbit out in the Kuiper Belt for two extra days to allow for the arrival of the other worthies.

  The three men sat in silence as the limo pulled into the VIP arrival tunnel at the Center. The huge glass and steel building that served as the capital of the Federation was completely at odds with the architectural style of the rest of the city center. However, much as the pyramid in the courtyard of the Louvre in Paris initially seemed so out-of-place, so had the Center become part of the city’s very essence. Ryck could almost feel the power emanating from it.

  None of the three men had any input as to the response from mankind to the capys, but this was all part of the show, they knew. The chairman would parade them around, a reminder that the capys had requested a Federation officer to meet with them. Not a Brotherhood citizen, not a Confed, an Advocacy member, or a New Budapest soldier, but a Federation Marine. Ryck doubted that the connection between the movie and the request had been disseminated. That would give away their advantage, and the chairman had not made it to the top by throwing away advantages in the past. He would not be about to start now.

  A young man in a blue pinstripe suit met the limo as it came to a stop and sank down to the ground.

  “Please, we need to hurry. They’ve been assembled for half an hour already,” he told them, taking Admiral Baris by the upper arm as if to pull him along.

  The admiral shook his arm free, but picked up the pace, followed by Ryck and Conner. They entered the building through a well-fortified gate—and scanned to the millimeter, Ryck knew. In the private areas where the tourists were not allowed, security was constant, tight, and invasive. They could probably tell him when he’d have to take his next shit.

  After only a few twists and turns, their guide led them through a small door, down a few steps, and out into the assembly hall where several hundred of the leaders of humanity had gathered.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, Rear Admiral Hancock Baris, commander of the Trinocular mission, Dr. Conner Therault, chief xenobiologist, and Colonel Ryck Lysander, the liaison to the Trinoculars,” a voice boomed out over the speakers.

  A few people started to clap, followed by more, and then still more, until the entire hall was awash in sound. It was better than people screaming for his scalp, but Ryck felt uncomfortable. These were the leaders of humanity, the people who steered the human race to the future. Ryck had just been a messenger boy, relaying a request for help. It was certainly historical, but it hadn’t taken much of anything on his part.

  Ryck and the other two were ushered to their seats at the side of the dais. The three men stood there, acknowledging the crowd until the applause started to peter out and their pinstriped guide motioned for them to sit.

  The chairman himself was the first to speak. It was evident to Ryck that the man realized this was going down in history, and every word, every gesture, looked rehearsed. Even the continual breaking out of applause from the audience seemed part of the performance. It was a rah-rah speech, first identifying the danger of the Klethos, as the capys called the bird-like creatures fighting them, then rallying around the idea that humanity, led by the Federation, could rise up to meet this threat.

  The president of the Confederation and a few of the representatives from other governments sat stone-faced during the speech. Ryck didn’t think they were too pleased with the “led by the Federation” tone to the chairman’s words.

  “Your expression, Colonel,” the admiral whispered beside Ryck.

  Ryck had let his guard down while looking at the envoys. He quickly switched to an attentive, and he hoped admiring expression frozen on his face.

  The chairman droned on for close to 45 minutes. He tended to the verbose, but this was a little long even for him, especially as he really said nothing.

  Finally, he sat down, turning the mic over to Admiral Wadden, the Chief of Naval Operations. Admiral Wadden looked like a sly fox with something to hide—which was pretty much a case of looks reflecting the person. He was the penultimate politician and was an oddsmaker favorite for becoming chairman someday.

  Admiral Wadden was there to brief the threat. He went into detail that surprised Ryck. He wasn’t sure how the Navy had determined so much from so little data. Conner, sitting beside him, seemed equally surprised. Ryck tried to keep that from showing as he kept the same interested expression he’d used for the chairman glued to his face.

  The more the admiral talked, the more evident the response to the capy request would be. The admiral was prepping the audience, nothing more, and if he replaced facts with conjecture, so be it if that served the cause.

  When the admiral turned the podium back to the chairman, Ryck already knew
the decision.

  The chairman took the podium, then looked deliberately through the audience, a great man thinking great thoughts.

  Just say it and forget the theatrics, Ryck thought.

  When the so-called great men spoke, it was the lowly sailor and Marine who had to act on it.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, it comes down to this. A race of beings is in danger of being exterminated. True, we were at war with this race not too long ago, but humanity is not one to hold grudges from the past. And as human beings, we cannot allow an entire race, the first intelligent race we’ve encountered, to be wiped out. We must act. And so, with the full agreement of the Brotherhood, the Confederation of Free States, and other governments as they come onboard with us, we will honor the Trinocular request. We will not ignore the threat but move with all the resources and power we have. We will rise to the challenge and defend not only the Trinoculars, but all of humanity, so help us God!”

  The entire audience rose as one in thunderous applause, Ryck included. Outwardly, he was the enthusiastic Marine, ready to march into battle. Inwardly, he hoped they understood what they were getting into.

  TARAWA

  Chapter 8

  “I’m used to them,” Ryck said, trying to keep his voice calm. “There won’t be any feeling out process.”

  Colonel Jasper Nelson, the division personnel officer protested, “But we’ve gone over this. Three-Six is ready to go, and as far as 2/3, LtCol Lu Wan will not report in for another week, and then he’s got to get snapped in. No, 3/6 is ready.”

  “Major Peltier-Aswad is more than capable of leading the battalion, Colonel. I know that for a fact.”

  “But a major? For a mission of this magnitude?” Nelson asked.

  Colonel Nelson was a long-time O6[7] on his twilight tour. Ryck got the feeling that the man resented Ryck’s sudden resurrection and quick promotion to colonel. He seemed determined to stifle Ryck’s priorities and instigate his own. Everyone realized that this was a historic mission, one with extremely high visibility, and Ryck suspected the colonel thought he might be able to parlay his part in the mission into a promotion. Ryck didn’t have time for that, and he didn’t give a rat’s ass for the other colonel’s career aspirations.

  He realized that requesting 2/3 was getting back to his old habits of gathering men he knew around him, but his point about being familiar with the battalion was none-the-less valid. This was a fact-finding mission, true, but one that could easily result in at least some fighting. With representational units from five other militaries, the confusion was going to be bad enough, so Ryck wanted as much familiarity as possible.

  “I do believe the chairman himself said I get who I want, no questions asked, right?”

  “Well, yes, but within reason—” Nelson started.

  “I never heard that caveat. It’s 2/3, pure and simple. Next item?” he asked, looking around the table.

  He’d been in this meeting for over three hours already, and he was getting antsy. He had very little time before they embarked, not enough time to do this right.

  He looked over to the chairs alongside the wall and caught Hannah’s eye. As the director of theoretical research, she didn’t rate a seat at the table itself, but at least she was in the room, and if Ryck couldn’t be home, this was something positive. Most of all, she would know what was going on. He didn’t have to worry about opsec[8] with her, either.

  Hannah gave him a very slow, deliberate wink, then pursed her lips in a tiny ghost kiss. It was nothing, but it was everything. Ryck held back a smile as he focused on Nelson’s next bitch, something about the proposed chain of command of the joint force.

  Having won the battle over the 2/3, Ryck could afford to let the man blather on. Ryck may only be a colonel, and a frocked one at that, and he knew quite a few flag officers thought a mere colonel was too junior for the mission, but the capys had wanted him, and the combined leadership of the various human governments had agreed to that. The bottom line was that the Brotherhood Admiral Ethan Parks was the overall mission commander, and Rear Admiral Baris was the Federation commander, but for the ground forces, the one that could possibly see action, Ryck was in command. Once on a planet, Ryck was in charge of humanity’s first potential contact with the Klethos. No one, not even the Federation Third Vice Minister, who was a four-star equivalent and the senior civilian in the task force, could overrule him.

  It might sound melodramatic, but in some ways, the future of humanity could rest squarely on Ryck’s shoulders.

  Chapter 9

  “Hey, congrats on the promotion, Ryck, I mean sir,” Lieutenant Colonel Jorge Simone said as he entered Ryck’s office.

  “Thanks, Jorge, but I’m still officially a lieutenant colonel. I’ve only been frocked,” Ryck told him. “You know, for political reasons.”

  “Doesn’t matter, sir. I see the eagles on your collar, and that trumps any official date of rank. Quid visum accipias est.”

  “Uh, what was that?” Ryck asked.

  “Oh, sorry. I guess it means what you see is what it is. I see the eagles, so you’re a colonel as far as I’m concerned.”

  Ryck tried to hold back a smile. Jorge Simone looked like a thug. A very stupid, rock of a man. Short at about 1.5 meters, he had the typical broad-shouldered, no-neck, stocky build of other heavy worlders. His deep-set beady eyes added to the impression of a brainless hunk of muscle. Well, quid visum-whatever he just said certainly was not appropriate to describe him. Ryck didn’t know if he’d ever met anyone as smart as Jorge.

  “OK, whatever. I know, if it quacks like a duck and all of that,” Ryck said, using a phrase a little less high-brow. “Please, take a seat.”

  “So, sir, I guess you’re pretty busy about now,” Jorge said, looking at the mess that was Ryck’s office.

  “That’s a grubbing understatement. I get one thing done and two more land on my lap. Make that three more.”

  Jorge chuckled, then said, “I would imagine that to be the case. But then again, that’s what you get paid the big bucks for.”

  “Hah! I’m only frocked. I’m still at an O-5’s pay!” Ryck said as both men broke into laughter.

  “You’ve got me there, sir.”

  “I bet you’re wondering why I asked you to come see me,” Ryck said.

  “The question has crossed my mind, sir. I’d have to postulate that I can be of some assistance to you, but that might be somewhat presumptuous.”

  Ryck thought he detected a hint of eagerness in Jorge’s voice. Ryck had been inundated with offers of assistance as Marines came out of the woodwork; Marines he knew and Marines he didn’t. This was a historic mission, and depending on what transpired, it could be a career maker for those connected to it. It could be a career killer, too, but Marines were not noted for being overly cautious.

  “No, you’re not being presumptuous. I do need your assistance.”

  Jorge smiled and said, “Then let me know. I told General Caruthers that you had asked me to come over, and he’s preemptively cut me loose until you embark. I am at your disposal.”

  “Uh, that’s not quite what I mean, Jorge,” Ryck started as Jorge’s eyes clouded over ever-so-slightly.

  “What I mean is that I want you to join me for the duration. I know you’re in a plum billet now, and General Caruthers is going places. But I’m overwhelmed here, and time is getting short. I’m not ashamed to admit that I’m in over my head, and I need help. I can’t offer you the battalion. Major Peltier-Aswad’s got that. We don’t have a set T/O for this hybrid brigade, but what I really need is sort of a chief of staff. And I want you for that. Not just for a couple of days, but until we get back.”

  Jorge sat back, obviously taken by surprise.

  “Why me, sir? I don’t have that much operational experience, and we’ve never worked together. You sort of, well, I mean, your reputation—”

  “My reputation is that I surround myself with my posse,” Ryck interrupted. “And I do. But we have worked t
ogether, at NOTC. I know your capabilities. And I know why you don’t have much in the way of operational experience. It’s because you keep getting snapped up by all the brass to keep things organized, to keep things running. And don’t sell yourself short on your tactical ability. I still remember the staff all pissed off when you beat the system on the RCET[9] back at Annapolis.”

  “But that was just a training exercise. It wasn’t real,” Jorge protested.

  “But you figured it out.

  “Look, I know I’m not some general, and Caruthers can do more for you. And I realize that it might be awkward for you with me in command. But I want to offer you the position, if you would accept it.”

  Please accept it, Ryck silently implored, trying to will Jorge to say yes. I need your help!

  Jorge looked at Ryck for a few moments, his face expressionless. Ryck felt his heart drop. He had to find someone, and Jorge had been his first choice.

  “Sir, I’m at a loss for words, something very rare for me. I’m honored that you are asking, and, well, excuse my language, but fucking-A yeah I accept! Are you kidding me, sir? I’d give my left nut for this, maybe my right one, too!”

  Relief swept over Ryck as Jorge jumped to his feet, hand outstretched. Ryck took it and almost regretted it as the excited Marine almost crushed it. Almost, but not really. This was a huge benefit, one Ryck knew he needed.

  “Welcome aboard, Colonel,” Ryck said. “I wish I could give you some time to get oriented, but you have to jump right in the fire. Starting in,” he paused, looking at his watch, “12 minutes with the J4’s staff. If you need anyone to build a staff, just let the master guns know, and we’ll try and get him. Speaking of which, do I need to call the general?”

  “No, sir. That’s my job now, to run interference and take care of the routine. I’ve got a couple of Marines I’d like to bring over, and I’ll get up with the master guns later. But if the meeting with the J4 is at Headquarters, I need to fly. Afterward, if you have time, I’d like a short sit-down with you to get your commanders’ guidance and run a few ideas by you. If that’s OK, sir.”