by Grant, Peter
He looked around at his audience. “We learned what had happened to them after de Bouff’s son Jan was captured by the Commonwealth. We tried to find his father, but without a Fleet of our own it was very difficult. After he attacked one of your communications frigates, your Fleet put a twenty-five-million credit reward on his head and searched for him throughout the settled galaxy, but even that didn’t produce any results. We kept our eyes open, hoping that one day we’d learn where he could be found. If we had, a raiding party of our troops would have paid him a visit, whether or not that contravened the restrictions imposed on us by the Bihar Federation.”
Ghale paused and sipped his coffee. Setting down the cup, he continued, “As it turned out, you took care of the matter for us with your assault on Blanco a few months ago. My Commanding Officer, Lieutenant-Colonel Rana, informed Gandaki, and recommended that we acknowledge the service you’d rendered us. Our Council on Gandaki agreed. They’ve provided ceremonial kukris – that’s the curved knife worn by all trained Gurkha soldiers – for everyone aboard the three shuttles, all of whom were part of killing de Bouff. They asked us to present them to you at a suitable ceremony, to take place in conjunction with the investiture to be held by Rolla and the Commonwealth. I brought one with me to show you.”
He fetched his carryall, opened it, and took out a big knife in a leather sheath. Drawing it, he revealed an angled blade about thirty centimeters long, thick and heavy and brightly burnished, very sharp along its inner edge and at the point. The hilt was made of ornately carved horn, and the scabbard of wood covered in black leather. Two much smaller blades were sheathed at the top of the scabbard. “Those are the chakmak, a sharpening and burnishing steel, and the karda, a small utility knife,” he informed them, carefully handing the kukri to Abha hilt-first. “The inscription on the blade is in Gurkhali on one side, and in Galactic Standard English on the other.”
Abha turned it over slowly in her hands. “It’s very heavy compared to most knives I’ve handled before, Sir.”
“Yes, the weight lends impetus to its cutting stroke.”
She nodded. “I see – and the angle of the blade automatically adds a slicing action to a slash, making it easier to cut deep.”
Steve accepted it from her, and held it at an angle to the light to study the inscription.
To the members of Task Force Maxwell
With thanks for avenging our honored dead
AYO GURKHALI!
He offered the kukri to Brooks. “That’s a beautiful piece of craftsmanship, Sir,” he observed. “I particularly like the fact that despite being a presentation blade, it’s clearly a working knife, not an ornament.”
“Yes,” the Major agreed. “Every kukri is made to be functional. These are more highly polished than usual, with better-quality hilts and scabbards to reflect their ceremonial nature; but they’re as practical a fighting knife as those on our uniform belts, if you should ever need to use one in that way.”
Brooks asked, “What does ‘Ayo Gurkhali’ mean, Sir?”
“It’s our traditional battle cry. It means ‘The Gurkhas are coming’. Gurkhali is also the name of our language.”
“I see. You say you’ve made enough of these to give one to everybody aboard the shuttles? That’s very generous of you, Sir.” Brooks handed the big knife to the Major. “What about those who died?”
“Their kukris will go to their families,” Ghale assured him as he returned the knife to its sheath, then put it back in his briefcase. “As for being generous, we don’t see it that way. You did us all a favor by taking care of a long-standing obligation of honor on our behalf. We want – no, we need to acknowledge that. There’s another aspect, too. This particular model of kukri is never sold commercially. It’s conferred upon each Gurkha soldier when he graduates from basic training, to mark him as a military professional. By giving you military-issue kukris, we’re appointing you as honorary Gurkhas. If any of you ever need any assistance we can provide, individually or collectively, you have only to produce your kukri to receive it.”
“That’s a very great honor, Sir,” Brooks acknowledged soberly. “Marines recognize Gurkhas as our equals in the field – something we do for no other armed force. The Fleet incorporates a lot of your standards in our training, too. To be regarded as an honorary Gurkha is something I’ll take very seriously.” Steve and Abha nodded their agreement.
“I’m glad you understand its significance. We want to honor all of you as our guests, the day after the medal award ceremony. We’d like to present your kukris at a parade during the afternoon, then adjourn to a communal supper prepared by our families. That’ll be a social rather than a military occasion, of course, so we invite you to bring civilian clothing to change into after the parade. We have all sorts of games and entertainments during social occasions like this. I should warn you that some of our Sepoys and NCO’s will probably hold drinking contests involving raksi, our national liquor. It’s very strong, so you might want to caution your people about that.”
Abha grinned. “I think some of our Marines will look forward to the challenge, Sir. I don’t think I’ll have any trouble with Nepalese food, but you might ask your people to prepare a few less spicy dishes for the other Marines. If you don’t, some of your honorary Gurkhas might expire before they’ve had time to get used to their new status!”
As they watched Major Ghale drive away later that evening, Brooks asked, “Will you be able to stay for the Gurkha presentation, Steve?”
“I sure will. I’ve got the rest of the week off. Lieutenant-Commander Le Roux took Nightingale out on her current training patrol. I only have to be back at Syscon on Sunday night.”
“I’ll see about giving Abha the rest of the week off from her training duties, then. May as well let you two lovebirds spend some time together.”
Steve grinned as Abha laughed. “Thanks, buddy. I appreciate it.”
“You’ll be spending more time with her in space in a few months, too,” Brooks added. “Your suggestion about the armored battalion helping to secure the asteroid mining site has been well received. Looks like a platoon will go out there for a month at a time, using four shuttles that’ll be based there until the SPS has enough patrol craft to assign two to the mining project. The accommodation and refinery ships are due here in a few months, so the patrols will begin as soon as they start work. Either Abha or myself will go out there once a month to check them out.”
“Sounds good to me. When you come up to orbit, you’ll see how the SPS is shaping up. I’ve got to admit, I’m impressed. They’re working their butts off, and coming along nicely.”
“The armored battalion’s doing the same down here. They’re almost fully retrained and equipped now, and the first troops for the second armored battalion have nearly finished their basic training. The Gurkhas are helping with that while we concentrate on shuttle training. As soon as we’re finished, we’ll join with the Gurkhas to run an Armor School for the new recruits, and train Rolla’s NCO’s to present the next one after we’ve gone.”
Steve nodded. “Looks like we’ll all have earned our keep by the time we head back to Lancaster.”
~ ~ ~
Commodore Esquivel arrived the next day aboard the regular dispatch vessel. The SPS offered to put her up in Beaumont’s finest hotel, but she chose to occupy the guest room in Colonel Houmayoun’s official residence.
Steve, Abha and Brooks were summoned to dine with them the following evening. They were assured the occasion would be informal, and that Number Two uniforms would therefore be acceptable, but nevertheless took extra care over their appearance. As Brooks observed darkly, “It just won’t do to upset a Flag Officer, even if we’re the golden boys and girls around here at the moment. Besides, back at Lancaster we’ll be lost in the crowd of junior officers again.”
He needn’t have worried. They found the Commodore relaxed, and very pleased to see Steve again. “I’ve never forgotten what I owe you,” she assured him serio
usly. “While I was on extended convalescent leave recovering from my injuries, I kept looking at my children and my husband, and thinking that I’d never have seen them again but for you and Bosun Cardle. Ever since then, I’ve been grateful for every day I’ve been alive. Coming so close to death teaches you to value life like nothing else does!”
“I guess you’re right, Ma’am. I’ve always been sorry Vince Cardle didn’t make it. He was the finest man I’d ever met up to that time, although in the Fleet I’ve met a few to match him. I lost my father when I was very young, so I suppose in a way he took his place.”
Colonel Houmayoun and his wife proved to be gracious hosts. They laid on a relaxed buffet supper, accompanied by some delicious local wines Steve hadn’t tasted before. The meal concluded with coffee and liqueurs, served in the lounge.
As they settled down in their seats, the Commodore asked teasingly, “Well, Colonel, may I tell them your good news, or would you prefer to do so yourself?”
To their surprise, the Colonel actually blushed, while his wife giggled. “Er… I’d rather you did so, please, Ma’am.”
She looked at the three guests. “Colonel Houmayoun’s role in the de Bouff affair has attracted threefold recognition. First, Rolla’s government agreed that an ex gratia prize money payment to Colonel Houmayoun was an appropriate way to recognize his contribution. After all, he arranged the shuttle upgrade and brought you here in the first place. Without those things, de Bouff might have got away with it. They’ve awarded him two per cent of the total payout.”
That’s six-point-three million credits, Steve mentally calculated. It’s less than we earned, because we divided the officers’ fifteen per cent share among only four of us, but it’s a very nice payout nonetheless.
Houmayoun was trying to hold back a beaming smile, and his wife had long since given up the struggle. “It’ll make a big difference to our lifestyle,” he admitted. “I’d shared in a couple of prize money awards before, but nothing this big.”
Commodore Esquivel went on, “The Colonel’s done a remarkable job over the past eighteen months in helping to restore Rolla’s armed forces to a healthier condition, and assisting them to get over the problems of the past decade. His tenure as Military Attaché has established new standards of excellence for the position. In recognition of that, at the recommendation of Rolla’s government and the Fleet’s Planetary Forces Directorate, the Board of Admiralty has awarded him the Legion of Merit. He’ll receive his medal at the investiture on Friday. Furthermore, the Commandant of the Marine Corps submitted his name to the Senate last month on the list of candidates for promotion to Brigadier-General. I was pleased to inform him yesterday that the Senate has approved his nomination. He’ll be promoted in the mid-year signal, and take over as Commanding Officer of the Lancaster sector’s Marine Reaction Force Brigade in July.”
There was a bustle of movement as they all stood to shake the Colonel’s hand and congratulate him. “They do say good things come in threes, and I have to admit, these are the best three things to come my way in a long, long time,” Houmayoun assured them, grinning.
When they’d sat down again, Commodore Esquivel went on, “Admiral Methuen mentioned to Admiral Pearson, the Flag Officer Commanding the Bureau of Personnel, that you’d all taken a year out of your planetside assignments to come here, and seen action into the bargain. We normally require your planetside assignments to be used for less stressful duties – administration, training, rest and relaxation, and time with your families. We don’t want you to lose out on that; so we’re going to keep you all planetside for an additional year before giving you your next shipboard or field assignments. I’m presently in charge of the Recruiting section of BuPers. Given all the publicity you’ve attracted over the past few months, your names are widely known at the moment: so I’ve asked for your services to help our recruiting efforts at schools, colleges and universities. You’ll all be assigned to my department for a year when you get back to Lancaster. I understand you two have just married?” She looked at Steve and Abha.
“Yes, Ma’am,” they agreed in unison.
“Very well. I’ll occasionally need to send representatives to other Commonwealth planets over the next year, so I’ll send both of you together.” She grinned. “You can regard the trips as a series of working honeymoons, if you like.” The others laughed as Steve and Abha blushed.
She turned to Brooks. “Colonel Houmayoun tells me you’ll also be getting married when you return to Lancaster.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“Is your fiancée also in the Fleet?”
“No, Ma’am, she’s a civilian. She’s presently completing her Doctorate in Biology at Commonwealth University.”
“All right. I’ll try to use you on Lancaster, so you don’t have to be separated from your wife. I think you’ve all earned some time together to rest, relax and build your relationships. At the end of your year with the Recruiting Department, I’ll use the last months of next year to help you get ready for your next off-planet assignments. Lieutenant Maxwell, you’ll be preparing for your department head tour of duty, won’t you?”
“Yes, Ma’am. I’ll need to do the Advanced Navigation course before then, and if possible I’d like to do Advanced Tactics as well.”
“Very well. I’ll see about getting you on those courses later next year. Captain Shelby, what about you?”
“I’ll be preparing for company command, Ma’am, so I’ll need to do the Company Commanders Course before my next assignment. I’d also like to do the advanced course in Heavy Weapons, which is my specialization.”
“I’ll arrange for you to do both. Lieutenant Sashna, what will your next assignment involve?”
“Ma’am, at the end of my current four-year service commitment I’ll be leaving the Marine Corps to study pediatric medicine. That’ll be at the end of next year.”
“Oh?” Her face was alight with interest. “Where do you plan to study?”
“I’ll register at Commonwealth University the following year, to take the pre-med courses I lack, then apply for admission to its Faculty of Medicine the year after that, Ma’am.”
“I can see about assigning you to the University’s Active Reserve unit for the last six months of your service, if you wish. Your duties will be light, and should allow you time to start those courses.”
Abha’s eyes lit up. “Thank you, Ma’am! That would be wonderful. If I work really hard, I might even be able to finish them, and start my medical training the following year.”
“I’ll see what can be done to help you accomplish that. I may call on you for advice and assistance, Colonel.”
Colonel Houmayoun nodded. “It’ll be my pleasure, Ma’am. With your permission, I’ll write a letter of recommendation to the Faculty of Medicine to support her application. Their selection process is said to be tough, and I think she’s earned any help and support we can give her.”
“She certainly has! Please do that, Colonel.”
The Commodore stretched, and reached for her coffee cup. “Now that we’ve dealt with everyone’s short-term future, I want to hear more about your fight with de Bouff. I was never so pleased in my life to learn he was dead at last! He and his son Constandt had the blood of more than half my crew on their hands – and some of mine, too. Tell me all about it!”
~ ~ ~
“I’ve never seen so many people so determined to have a good time,” Abha whispered to Steve as they strolled arm-in-arm through the throng of Gurkhas and their guests.
“They certainly get down to it, don’t they?” he replied, stepping to one side with her to avoid a cluster of shrieking children running pell-mell through the crowd. “I hadn’t realized that on multi-year contracts like this, the Gurkhas bring their families with them.”
“It makes sense. In a combat zone it wouldn’t work, of course, but in a garrison and training assignment like this, everybody benefits. It’s nice that they’ve set up adjacent entertainment areas for
families and soldiers. People can wander between them as they please, but the kids can have a worry-free time over here without bothering the drinking parties over there.”
Steve snorted with amusement. “Yes. Did you see Gunnery Sergeant Bradshaw tackling a flask of home-distilled raksi? I don’t think he realized how strong it is. His face as he swallowed the first mouthful was a picture!”
She giggled. “Yes. What’s more, he’s been boasting about how his Marines would be able to outdrink the Gurkhas because of their greater body mass. Tomorrow morning, I think he may regret saying that.”
“That’s if he can remember saying it in the first place!”
“Well, yes, there is that.” They shared another laugh.
Major Ghale’s voice came from behind them. “I hope you’re enjoying yourselves?”
They turned to find him in the company of the battalion commander, Lieutenant-Colonel Rana. They were in civilian clothes, like everyone around them, but both carried themselves more formally, as befitted commanders among their troops, even during social occasions.
“We are, thank you, Sir,” Steve assured him. He didn’t brace to attention, but tried to convey respect by standing straighter. Beside him, Abha did likewise.
Rana said, “I’m glad you could all stay to enjoy our hospitality. We don’t often have the opportunity to host our Marine counterparts, and to have a Spacer Corps officer join us is a rare privilege.”
“The privilege is mine, Sir. I’ve heard a lot about the Gurkhas, but until I came here I’d never had an opportunity to meet any of your people.”
