Major (The United Federation Marine Corps Book 5) Page 3

  “So, why did you stop this removal?” Ryck asked, perplexed.

  “You are an accredited diplomat, and we are a civilized government. We don’t remove foreign diplomats.”

  Despite his situation, Ryck took in the word “remove.” They were talking about a political assassination, yet they couldn’t use words like “kill” or “murder.”

  “And you have an honorable reputation among many in the Army, men who will not stand for politicians dirtying our hands.”

  Ah, there’s a riff between the Army and at least some of the civilian government? Ryck wondered, catching what might be his first real bit of Intel since his arrival.

  He wondered if Titus realized what he’d just let slip.

  “Captain Hennesey, who I think you know, gave you a pretty solid recommendation, and that has cemented your rep. Believe it or not, the Army has your back.”

  “Captain Hennesey? Who’s he—” he started before he remembered. “Oh, in the Telchines. He and I negotiated our truce.”

  “Yes, and he gave a pretty detailed account of all your actions there to his father, and that was entered into your file.”

  “His father, who—? Ah, General Hennesey? As in Vice Chief of the Army Hennesey?”

  “Yes, him. A hard-ass son-of-a-bitch who never-the-less was more than happy to get his only son back and with his honor intact.”

  Ryck took a moment to digest this. First, that they had a file on him. Federation Nova or not, he was still just a major, and files were usually kept on generals and maybe some colonels. Second, that the fates had brought him the vice-chief’s son, and they had both acted to minimize senseless killing despite others who wanted glory by continuing the fight in the Telchines.

  “Major, we’ve got movement. This operation is aborted. Get out now!” his unseen minder almost yelled into his earbud.

  “I’ve got to go,” Ryck said. “Uh, thanks. And maybe we should talk more.”

  “Not sparking hardly,” Titus said with a laugh as both men started running to the entrance. “I may respect you, but I’m here to keep an eye on you, and no, you don’t have a chance on turning me.”

  “Maybe, maybe not,” Ryck said as he ran. Ahead of him, the two lovers were gone, observers from one side or the other.

  Through the gate, Titus peeled off to the left. Ryck went right and ran deep into the commercial district. He didn’t know who was there from the embassy to support him, but he wasn’t going to return on the same route he’d taken to get there.

  Nothing had gone according to plan, and Ryck knew he’d be spending hours in debriefs and even more writing up his contact report. Still, he felt the adrenaline rush that he often felt in combat. He’d rather be a commander of Marines somewhere, but maybe this job wasn’t so bad after all.

  CS Path of Glory

  Chapter 5

  “What do you think?” Titus asked, waiting for Micah’s opinion.

  The vice colonel seemed to think long and hard as Ryck, LCDR Rainer Kopf (a Brotherhood assistant naval attaché), Capitaine de vaisseau Silas Beignet, and Junior Regimentist Csonka listened in.

  Finally, he nodded his head and said, “Not bad. About the best I’ve had, to be honest.”

  “Sparking right, sir. I told you!” Titus shouted.

  “Va te faire foutre, Micah!” Silas Beignet protested. “Groupe Danone makes a much better macaroon!”

  The rest of the group laughed at the captain’s reaction. They were killing time in the Path of Glory’s senior wardroom while they waited for yet one more brief from the exercise staff, and the conversations were getting rather inane. Ryck liked Beignet, but it was still fun to see him put in his place.

  “I told you, CCB is good at what they do, especially with sweets. This is Free States technology at its best. Their new system counteracts the acid buildup in fabricators that, uh, it masks . . . uh, well you know. I don’t know exactly how, but CCB fabricators are the best available,” Titus told the glowering attaché. “And just because a macaroon is an old-timey French pastry doesn’t mean Greater France has a monopoly on it. Just look at New Budapest wine.”

  Bill Csonka, the New Budpest military liaison, raised his glass of Pepsi in a mock toast as even Beignet had to nod. The New Budapest vineyards were widely regarded as the best in human space even if Greater France clung to its historical emphasis on wine.

  Ryck took another of the macaroons, this one with a passionfruit filling. It was pretty darn good, he had to admit, but if it was better than anything else that had been popped out of another fabricator, he wasn’t sure. He just hoped the galley crew would be serving something a little more filling soon.

  The gathered diplomats were on a semi-annual observation exercise with the Confederation Navy. The exercise itself was part of the normal training process, but twice a year, the foreign delegation was invited on board one of the capital ships to observe how the Confederation did things.

  It wasn’t as if the Confederation was going to reveal anything useful, however. The delegation had only been allowed on the bridge of the Path of Glory for a few short briefings. Engineering and the weapons stations were completely off limits. That left the CIC[2] (where a number of stations were hooded with black cloth when they were there), the main hangar deck, berthing, and the wardroom. For the last two days, 80% of their time while not asleep was right here in the wardroom, discussing universe-shattering issues such as who made the best macaroons.

  When CDR Danielle Harper came into the wardroom, followed by RADM Forsythe, CAPT Franks, and CAPT Juanala (the military attaché from the Liberty Alliance), everyone swung around, glad that perhaps now they could actually observe something.

  Ryck was still not used to women aboard combat vessels. He knew the Federation was in the minority with regards to women in uniform, and he had no personal problem with the concept—Major Melissa “Missy” Walters, after all, had been one of only two people to earn two Federation Novas, back before women were banned from the service. It just was odd to him to see a woman, in particular an attractive woman (not that attractiveness should matter, he admitted to himself), in a ship that could sail into harm’s way.

  “Gentlemen,” she said as the men turned their attention to her, “Exercise Valiant Shield has been suspended.”

  A low mutter sounded from the gathered men until she held up her hand to quiet them down.

  “There has been an incident in this quadrant, and as we are the closest force, we will be responding. The SOG has taken over the orbiting observatory Sisyphus and is demanding a ransom. The Path of Glory, the Hanson Lake, and the CT-83 are going to respond. The Commodore has already briefed Rear Admiral Forsythe, Captain Franks, and Captain Juanala and invited the entire delegation to sail with us. Rear Admiral Forsythe and Captain Franks, after consultation with their embassies, have agreed to stay and observe. The Liberty Alliance ambassador has declined, and the three Alliance personnel will be transferred to a packet and taken back to New Mumbai. If anyone else wishes to debark, they will be placed on the same packet.”

  Most of the men shot glances to Hans Baker. It had long been rumored that the Rottwilhelm Trust had some sort of arrangement with the SOG, much as the European powers had with the Barbary pirates back in the 19th Century, Old Reckoning, back on Earth.

  Hans cleared his throat and said, “Commander, I’m under strict orders about putting myself into a potential conflict zone, so I’m afraid I will be debarking with my Liberty Alliance colleagues.”

  “I understand, Mr. Baker. The shuttle to the packet will leave in 35 minutes, so I suggest you and the Alliance personnel gather your things. If anyone else needs to contact your embassies, please let me know. Once the shuttle leaves, everyone onboard at that time will be along for the ride,” she told them.

  Ryck’s pulse was quickening. This wasn’t his fight—he was an observer. But he’d tangled with the SOG before, and he was sure he could offer some advice if they wanted it. The Federation and the Confederation were no
t the closest of governments even in the best of times, but against the SOG, the old enemy of my enemy adage was in full force.

  “Nicely played,” Micah said as CDR Harper left the wardroom with a promise to be back in under an hour with a more detailed brief.

  “What do you mean?” Ryck asked.

  “This may have been planned from the gitgo. With us onboard, technically, this is an allied mission, and all of our governments will go along with whatever the Confeds decide to do. They have full operational command with no input, but our governments are complicit. Hans realized that, and that’s why he had to leave.”

  “And the Liberty Alliance?” Rainer Kopf asked, listening in.

  “Don’t know for sure. But their Navy’s been spread thin, especially with them decommissioning a good chunk of their destroyers.”

  “They fought the trinoculars with us,” Ryck said.

  “Even the SOG offered to help with that,” Micah said. “It was furry aliens invading human space, after all. And the Alliance lost five capital ships in that war. I think they’re trying to stay on the sidelines in any future conflicts, if they can, and as they haven’t been bearing the brunt of any SOG attacks, they want to keep it that way.

  “In my humble opinion, of course,” he added.

  Ryck sat back to contemplate what Micah had said. It made sense, but it was just his best guess analysis.

  Whatever the reasons, though, CAPT Franks, and Mr. Lamonica back at the embassy, had committed themselves to support a Confederation military op. The politics about this were way above Ryck’s paygrade, but fighting an enemy was not. He was going to offer his services to the Confeds and with no ulterior motives. He’d worry about being an attaché afterwards, but for now, he was going to be a combat Marine.

  CS CT-83

  Chapter 6

  Ryck looked around the cramped bridge of the CT-83, technically a naval capital ship, but in reality, an old cargo hauler. He was trying to control his disappointment that he was not on the Path of Glory with CAPT Franks and most of the other observers in the heart of the action. When CAPT Franks had told him he’d be in the CT-83, he’d initially bristled, and he almost broke his vow of never saying “Do you know who I am?” before he could gain control of himself.

  The captain didn’t quite apologize—his comment about Ryck being too much of a political hot potato to risk his participation in combat was probably as close as he would get to that. But as he joined Bill Csonka and an enlisted naval tech from the Brotherhood whose name he hadn’t caught as the three were shuttled over to the CT-83, he had to admit he understood the decision. Unless the whole O’Brian Park incident was an elaborate play by the Confeds, some in the government wanted him gone enough to attempt to have him killed, and merely having him present in combat aboard a Confed vessel could complicate matters. At least the captain had not sent him back to New Mumbai with Hans and the Liberty Alliance personnel. The CT-83 wasn’t much, but he could monitor the situation from her.

  The ship’s CO, LCDR Chris Nuzzi, sat in her captain’s chair, monitoring the command circuit which she had coming over the externals. She seemed anxious, possibly even agitated, and Ryck got the feeling that she was a kindred spirit and rather pissed about being shunted aside as a blocking force while the other two ships moved into the fight.

  Ryck took a moment to look at Commander Nuzzi. She and Ryck were the same rank, but she was the sole authority over the ship and the 92 sailors in her crew. Ryck had commanded more Marines in combat, but he’d never matched the absolute authority of a ship’s commanding officer. During his training in Brussels, Ryck had been surprised to learn that not only did women serve in the Confed Army, Navy, and System Guard, but they could also command. But this was the first time he’d actually met a female commander.

  There was something about her, though, a sense of purpose, that Ryck felt he picked up from her that was the same he’d felt from other commanders in the Federation. That should not have surprised Ryck, he knew. To get command of any ship, even an old cargo hauler, while just a lieutenant commander, was a pretty strong indication that she was right at the top of her year group.

  “Rather a let-down, huh?” Bill asked quietly as the two observers stood in the back of the bridge.

  “You’ve got that right. A ‘blocking force?’ With one ship?” Ryck whispered back.

  The two offensive ships, the Path of Glory and the Hanson Lake, were the point of main effort. With a cohort-plus of assault soldiers, both ships were going to stand off the Sisyphus and provide cover as the assault force penetrated the research station and took out the SOG. The general feeling was that there were fewer than 20 pirates onboard, and the pirates wouldn’t be thinking that the Confeds would risk military action that could damage the station or threaten the crew.

  What they undoubtedly didn’t realize was that the Confeds still had some degree of control over the station, and could shut down the power as well as open the ports, all from the Path of Glory’s CIC. By moving in quickly while cloaked and sending a lightning strike of a deca[3] of Exploratores, the Confed’s version of the Federation Navy’s SEALS, immediately followed by the cohort, the Confeds hoped to quickly root out the SOG pirates.

  The CT-83, with only limited weaponry, was sent to a position some 750,000 klicks inward on along the X-Y-Z axis, the direction the Confed AIs determined would be the most likely avenue of retreat should the SOG make a break for it.

  Space was big, though, and Ryck thought that even if the SOG managed to escape the two Confed ships, the chance that they would just happen to retreat into their direction was pretty remote. Ryck was sure that the orders to the CT-83 were issued merely to keep the poorly-armed supply ship out of harm’s way.

  Instead of the 3D holo display favored by Federation ships, the Confeds used flat screens to monitor the fight. The display could be rotated in any direction, and while the flat screen took up far less space in the bridge, Ryck thought it was not as good as the holos in detailing the battle space.

  Still, with only the three Confed ships and the research station, it was easy to follow along as the three ships slipped into position. They were heavily cloaked, but no one exactly knew what abilities the SOG had in piercing through their cloaking measures. Ryck was alert for any indication that the SOG on the Sisyphus had acquired the two Confed ships. He knew CAPT Franks and just about everyone else would be doing the same thing, but at least it gave him a sense of purpose.

  Time dragged on as Ryck watched. When he was going into combat, there was the sense of excitement and nerves that swept through him, and his mind would race with everything he had to do in response to what might happen. This time, though, he was merely an observer, and it seemed as if time was barely creeping along.

  At last, the ships were in position, and the Exploratores launched, followed by the Army cohort. Ryck was hoping that there would be a feed from one of the Exploratores, but if there was, it was not being released to the CT-83. The reports started coming in, however, as the Exploratores entered the auxiliary port. They were met almost immediately by opposition, but without the rendering of the battle space that Federation AIs created, it was difficult to know just what was happening.

  The bridge of the CT-83 got quiet as everyone stopped to listen. Ryck stole a glance at the CO, who sat in her command chair, chewing on one of her fingernails. She looked like a tiger, though, coiled and ready to jump.

  The cohort followed the Exploratores, entering through the main docking bay as well as the auxiliary port. More resistance was reported as the Hanson Lake moved in closer—too close, Bill muttered from beside him. If the Sisyphus blew, it could take out the destroyer as well. The Confeds didn’t think that was a possibility, given their control over the power system and the dampening field they had over the station. But the dampening field was not having much of an effect on the SOG resistance, which was probably strictly using mechanically fired kinetic weapons.

  “Captain, we’ve got a command dir
ective coming in,” the yeoman on the comms station said over the incoming on the externals.

  The CO sent a glance back at Hans and Ryck, then said, “Put it up.”

  “CT-83, there is an anomaly moving away from Sisyphus, currently at 1.24598, 92.33998, and 12.83546. We are synching our surveillance to your system. Position yourself to intercept and investigate. There is a 72% probability that this is an escape attempt, and a 53% probability that there are Free State hostages on board.”

  A glowing red spot appeared on the screen, heading somewhat in the same general direction to where the CT-83 lay in wait.

  “Lieutenant Djubati, plot a course, now!” Lieutenant Commander Nuzzi ordered.

  “Cloaked?” the navigator asked.

  “Yes, keep us sealed up,” she said without hesitation.

  Ryck knew that Confed ships were not as maneuverable while cloaked, and their sensors were not nearly as effective. But the target seemed cloaked itself beyond the capabilities of the CT-83’s sensors even at their best, and with the Path of Glory’s much more advanced capabilities and its results being streamed to the CT-83, there was no reason to give up their presence, especially not knowing just what was heading their way.

  Ryck had to approve of her decision. If that was a major capital ship sneaking off, then the CT-83 wouldn’t stand a chance against her if it came to a fight. Better to remain invisible until more was known.

  “This is a little better,” Bill whispered to Ryck. “What you think? An escape pod?”

  “I don’t know. If this is a real SOG op and not some copycat wannabe outfit, they don’t have a habit of running,” Ryck said. “Unless there is something valuable in whatever vessel that is.”

  “Like research results?”