Colonel (The United Federation Marine Corps Book 7)
Page 21
“That be almost two years ago. And now you be promoted again.”
“Did you tell him about the, you know?” the doctor asked.
“What? Tell me what?”
“Oh, you were awarded a second Federation Nova. When you be ready, we be going to Earth for the ceremony.”
“I meant the flick,” the doctor said, “but yes, the Nova is pretty big. Do you know you are the first living recipient of two Novas? They said that in the flick.”
Ryck felt dizzy and overwhelmed. There was too much data overload. They were dueling with Klethos? He was a general now? He’d been awarded a second Nova? And now there was a second flick about him?”
“So you know they used the real footage of your duel with the d’rella? It was the bomb!” the doctor said, excitement in his voice. “Oh, of course you don’t know. You’ve been induced for the last 15 months. But you need to see it. Copacetic plus!”
“I was there,” Ryck said for lack of anything else to say.
“Hah! ‘I was there!’ Priceless! I’m going to repeat that, if you don’t mind. ‘I was there!’” the doctor said, obviously delighted.
“Well,” the doctor started, getting back to physician mode. “We’ve got FCN news waiting outside. They’d like an interview with the Hero of Yakima 4, if you feel up to it. If you don’t, though, tell me. I’ll send them packing until another day. I’m here for you to help you speed up your recovery.”
“FCN?” Ryck repeated.
He was repeating quite a bit of what was being said to him. He hoped the Brick had not damaged his cognitive abilities, because he was sounding like a blooming idiot.
“Honey, things have changed while you have been under. We’re in Star City now,” she said, referring to the neighborhood at Headquarters where the flag officers were given housing. “. . . and, well, Doctor Brennan is right. You’re the Hero of Yakima 4 now. I even sort of signed a contract for your action figure,” she said, suddenly looking unsure of herself.
Hannah was always confident and assured, and this view of her like a shy teenager made him smile. He hesitated a moment, wondering if he dared string her along, and she mistook his silence for disapproval.
“I can cancel it, but General Mbanefo thought it would be good for the Corps, and Ben, Ben was so excited. Half of the fees are going to the families of those who fell,” she quickly said, running her words together.
Ryck laughed and grabbed her hand. “It’s OK. If you thought it was a good idea, I agree.
“Tell me, though, does it look like me?” he asked, suddenly curious.
“Turn around, General,” Doctor Brennan said.
Ryck twisted his neck. On the shelf beside the bed, a 25 cm tall action figure stood in its stand, awaiting activation. And it did look like him—a 25-year-old him, a him with a Mr. Universe physique, but him none-the-less.
Ryck had a lot to digest, but he knew Hannah was right. His life had changed when he’d been awarded this first Nova. If what Hannah and Dr. Brennan had said was even 50% accurate, his life was going to change even more.
“Well, Doctor, about the news crew. Sending them away isn’t going to do much, so let’s get that out of the way. But nothing more after that until I see my kids. Agreed?”
“Yes, sir, General. I’m on it,” he said as he left the room, calling for a nurse.
General Lysander. It has a nice ring to it, he thought as he let Hannah smooth his hair and straighten out the sheets around him.
EPILOGUE
With a clean bill of health and as the new Director of Public Affairs, Brigadier General Ryck Lysander thanked his driver, telling him to be back at 2200 to pick him up. His life had turned topsy-turvy since he left regen and rehabilitation, but having a driver was one of the most jarring things for him to accept.
Ryck liked to drive, and with his new Fratelli Scorpion sitting in the garage, he wished he had more of an opportunity to drive it. But in the flag officer’s finishing school, he was told in no uncertain terms that generals were driven, especially when they were generals with strong public recognition. Sergeant Theodore was not only his driver, but he was also a deadly bodyguard.
Staff Sergeant Hans Çağlar had requested the position, begging Ryck for it, to be clear. Ryck refused. Çağlar needed to get some time in the fleet. He’d never been a squad leader, and Ryck was not going to let him get further out-of-touch with what it meant to be a Marine. Besides, as a fellow Federation Nova holder, it just didn’t seem right to relegate him to being a driver. Ryck would be more than pleased to serve with Hans again, but the staff sergeant needed to get some leadership time under his belt.
For most of Ryck’s career as an officer, he’d been one of two living Marine Nova holders. With Joab Ling and Max Zachary, there had been four. Now, after the first battles of the Klethos War, there were seven living Marine holders, and one of the 22 living Navy holders was a corpsman serving with the Marines. It was getting so that you couldn’t swing a dead cat at headquarters without hitting one, as Bert Nidischii’, also a brigadier general, was fond of saying. Of course, only Ryck had two of them.
Today was not about the medal, though. Today was a different ceremony, a different celebration, one that had been delayed, but was finally about to take place.
Two paparazzi were waiting, cams recording as Ryck strode up the walk into the Globe and Laurel. At least the numbers were down from the swarms that had followed his every movement after his release from the hospital. He hoped that as the routine of his new job became the norm, even the last diehards would abandon the chase and focus on the newest boy band members or crystal stars.
The front hatch of the pub swung open before Ryck could reach for it, and Mr. Geiland said, “Welcome, General Lysander. Your party is in the back.”
Ryck stopped and held out his hand. Mr. Geiland had been part of the pub since Ryck first stepped in. He was a civilian, but he was part of the very essence of the Corps.
“I’d be honored if you would join us, Mr. Geiland, for the toast.”
A slight smile creased the old man’s wrinkled face as he said, “It is I who would be honored.
Marines, sailors, civilians friends, and more than a few politicos stood up as Ryck walked in. A few gave out shouts of welcome, and Ryck nodded and shook hands. General Mbanefo and his wife sat with Hannah in the corner, a pitcher of beer on the table. Lieutenant General Ukiah sat next to them. Ryck blew Hannah a kiss as he pushed his way to the back of the pub. He’d be out later to mix and mingle, but the raison d’être of the evening was in the back room.
He’d been given a time to arrive, and as he pushed through the heavy wooden doors, 53 men stood up and clapped.
“Welcome, sir,” Colonel Jorge Simone said, motioning to a seat near the podium. As the second senior Marine in the room, he was once again the master of ceremony.
Jorge clinked on his glass with a fork in the time-honored tradition for silence, and the men in the room quieted down.
“Friends,” he began, “and I will call all of you friends. We are gathered here for a joyous ceremony. The last time we met, it was to bid farewell to Major Donte Ward, the first of our class to fall.”
“Here, here!” several of the others called out, lifting glasses.
“Since that time, three more of us have made the voyage to the beyond: Major Elijah Temperance, in battle against the Gionva Faction; Major Crispin Volaire, in the disappearance of the FS Dubai; and Mr. Liam Xu, to complications of Crispen’s Disease. I would like to lift a toast to our fallen comrades.”
Mr. Geiland had slipped a stein of Corona in front of Ryck, so he had something to lift in the toast.
Jorge waited a few moments before he resumed speaking, “But today is not for solemn reflection. Today is a celebration. Today we open that bottle of champagne and toast in honor of our most illustrious classmate, a man whom I am proud to call friend. . .” he paused, then dramatically added, “SIR!”
The gathered men broke out into laughte
r.
“Brigadier General Ryck Lysander!”
More cheers broke out.
Jorge nodded at Mr. Geiland, who brought out the tray of tulip glasses and set them down. Solemnly, he walked up to the class box, punching in the code to trigger the release, and carefully took down the bottle of Krug Clos d’Ambonnay.
Almost regally, he took off the lead foil, and with his thumbs, applied pressure until the cork popped, flying across the room and almost hitting Gervis Smith in the head, to everyone’s amusement. Mr. Geiland quickly raised the bottle, minimizing the amount of champagne that foamed out to fall on the floor.
He wiped off the bottle with the towel he’d had hanging from his belt, and then handed the bottle to Jorge.
Jorge poured just a swallow of champagne into each fluted glass. The bottle was a full magnum, but with 55 glasses, that still didn’t go a long ways.
When he was finished, he turned to Ryck and said, “Traditionally, the senior Marine present is the last to be served. In this case, tradition is reversed. After the toast, if you would lead us, sir?”
“Classmates, in celebration!” Jorge shouted out as all 55 men, Mr. Geiland included, raised their glasses.
Ryck felt a wave of warmth sweep over him. The men around him were the ones he’d been commissioned with. He’d lost touch with some, even most of them, but they had still shared a connection. They were his brothers.
He raised the glass to his lips and took a swallow, the bubbly effervescence tickling his throat.
“I declare this fit for human consumption!” he shouted, not really part of this ceremony, but welcomed if the response from the others was any indication. Within seconds, all the glasses had been drained.
“Friends, brothers, I am in awe of all of you. Things happen to swing my way, but anyone of you could be in my place today had circumstances been any different.”
“No!” a few men responded.
Maybe not all of them, Ryck acknowledged, being frank, but certainly some.
He looked to Jorge, the man Ryck thought would earn his stars first. He’d been too competent for his own good, and had been constantly yanked out of the billets he’d needed to advance quickly. Even his chest told the story. Instead of the stacks of ribbons Ryck wore, or any number of the others wore, Jorge had four ribbons: the combat ribbon with three battle stars for Tri-30, Ruggeri’s World, and Yakima 4, two low level staff achievement ribbons, and the Navy Cross. Once given a chance, he’d proven himself. Given more of a chance, and he’d have made general first, Ryck was sure.
“It’s true,” Ryck said. “I’ve just been in the right time at the right place. And for that I am grateful. But more than that, I am grateful for the brotherhood and support you have shown me.
“Prince,” he said, singling out his old friend. “Without you, I would never have made it through MOTC in the first place. I was ready to bilge out, and you got me over that hump. So I owe you.”
Major Prince Jellico raised his empty glass in acknowledgement as those standing next to him clapped him on his shoulders.
“You, John, Curt—I see you hiding there. Jorge,” he added, turning to his friend. “All of you, I thank you. And I thank you for coming. “Derrick Ohu, you came from where, from Dryer? All that way?’
“Wouldn’t have missed it, sir!” Derrick shouted out.
“Well, I’m glad you made it. It means a lot to me.”
Ryck looked down at his glass, then made a show of turning it upside down.
“Looks like we’re dry. So before I break down like a baby, what say we move into the main pub? I had to take out a second mortgage to buy enough booze for you—”
“You’re in Star City now!” a voice called out to general laughter. “It’s free housing!”
“Well, true. So I had to sign over my firstborn, whatever. But let’s get out there before everyone else drinks me dry.”
There was a cheer, and each man came up to congratulate him before wending out to the main pub.
“Thanks, Jorge,” Ryck said as only the two of them were left. “I appreciate it. I really thought it would be you, though.”
“Ah, I knew it would be you, sir. There was no doubt in my mind.”
“I think you’re next.”
“Maybe, or maybe Travis. Or Zeke. Or me, I’ll admit. But I don’t think I’d even have a chance if it weren’t for you. You gave me the opportunity,” Jorge said.
“Which you took and ran with. You did an amazing job,” Ryck said, flipping a finger to point at Jorge’s Navy Cross.
“And I know you put in the good word for me with General Nidischii’.”
“I can think of no one better to be on the Klethos Response Council,” Ryck responded.
With the “war” with the Klethos, the Federation, and the Marines in particular, were trying to come to grips with the new paradigm. Marines and sailors were no longer dying in battle with them. Only four champions had been killed, in fact. But it was still a war, and the Klethos wanted to take over human planets.
The Klethos has wiped out the capys, with fewer than 20 million of the Trinoculars left alive, refugees on two Brotherhood worlds and now under human protection. The Klethos may not wipe out humanity, if the war continued to be played by the same rules, but humanity needed to make sure they understood those rules. Jorge and Bert Nidischii’ were two of the men who were going to make sure of that.
“Hell, Jorge, let’s go get something to drink,” Ryck said, putting his arm around the broad shoulders of the heavy-worlder.
The two Marines stepped out into the pub to the cheers of the gathered crowd. Ryck caught sight of Hecs, Sams, Joab Ling, Bert Nidischii’, Çağlar, Gunny Bergstrøm, “Genghis” Bayarsaikhan, Martin Ekema, Doc Adams, Fearless uKhiwa—Marines and sailors with whom he served. Men who he’d do anything for.
He intended to thank each and every one of them, not just for coming, but for serving alongside him. But there was something he had to do first.
“Drink up, people!” he called out as he made his way to the table in the corner. “The bar is still open, and food will be out in a few minutes.”
The Commandant of the Marine Corps stood up to accept Ryck’s greeting, but Ryck brushed by the outstretched hand and took Hannah’s, lifting her to her feet. He pulled her into his embrace, giving her a bear hug, squeezing for all he was worth.
“Thank you, Hannah,” he whispered into her ear. “We’ve been through so much, and I never would have made it without you.”
Hot tears fell onto his uniform blouse, soaking into his shoulder.
“I love you, too, Ryck,” she whispered back as cheers filled the pub again.
And Ryck was at peace.
Thank you for reading Colonel. I hope you enjoyed it, and I welcome a review on Amazon, Goodreads, or any other outlet.
If you would like updates on new books releases, news, or special offers, please consider signing up for my mailing list. Your email will not be sold, rented, or in any other way disseminated. If you are interested, please sign up at the link below:
http://eepurl.com/bnFSHH
Other Books by Jonathan Brazee
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
The United Federation Marine Corps
Recruit
Sergeant
Lieutenant
Captain
Major
Lieutenant Colonel
Colonel
The conclusion to the UFMC (Coming soon)
Rebel
(Set in the UFMC universe)
Werewolf of Marines
Werewolf of Marines: Semper Lycanus
Werewolf of Marines: Patria Lycanus
Book Three: Coming
To The Shores of Tripoli
&nb
sp; Wererat
Darwin’s Quest: The Search for the Ultimate Survivor
Venus: A Paleolithic Short Story
Non-Fiction
Exercise for a Longer Life
Author Website
* * *
[1] Jimmylegs: Slang for a civilian security guard.
[2] NOTC: Naval Officers Training Course
[3] UPGA: Universal Professional Golf Association
[4] PX: Post Exchange, a store for military personnel, retirees, and dependents.
[5] Frocked: a practice where someone selected for promotion is allowed to put on the rank insignia and enjoy all the benefits of that promotion except for pay. Officially, the Marine still has his old rank, but unofficially, he has his new rank.
[6] OBE: Overcome By Events
[7] O6: Colonel
[8] Opsec: Operational Security
[9] Realistic Combat Environment Trainer. This is a huge simulator used to train Marines and sailors how to fight.
[10] UA: Unauthorized absence
[11] AOR: Area of Operations
[12] SOP: Standard Operating Procedure
[13] LOD: Line of Departure
[14] LZ: Landing Zone
[15] TAOR: Tactical Area of Responsibility.
[16] Marine Corps Martial Arts