Captain (The United Federation Marine Corps Book 4) (10 page)

Chapter 11

“So this is our home for the next whatever,” Ryck said as he looked around the old refinery. 

The refinery had once been used by the early settlers to crack organics from oil and natural gas.  When Propitious Interstellar had taken over the planet, the cracking was moved to more efficient company plants.  The old refinery, located downstream from Tay Station, was not abandoned.  The cleared area so close to the River Tay itself was a good spot to grow the algae that was so vital to a significant percentage of Propitious Interstellar’s fabrication.  The company’s genpatent for its line of algae was for “Blue-99,” which Ryck knew only from the brief.  Like most people, he gave little thought to the products that came out of the big fabrication companies.  As he looked over at the racks and racks of tubes where greedy algae soaked up the sun and fresh water, it was somewhat hard to realize that the company made everything from steaks to cosmetics to chairs from it.

For the hundredth time, he wondered if Charlie had been exiled to this position.  Preston’s Alpha Company had been sent to Dundee, the planetary capital.  Donte’s Bravo Company and Jasper Yeoung’s Weapon’s company were the main forces in Tay Station, the financial and population center of the planet.  Charlie, on the other hand, was positioned in this out-of-the-way refinery.  Ryck’s AOR
[11]
was larger than any of the other companies’, but there was not much there.  The main highway between Tay Station and Dundee was his main concern, but other than the refinery, the local park, and a few scattered farms and homes leading to the outskirts of the city, there wasn’t much to oppose the company.

Maybe it’s better this way,
he thought. 
This mission sucks, and I don’t want to play riot police.

While Ryck didn’t think the mission was in keeping with the Corps’ charter, he knew there was precedence.  During his own career, he’d been on operations that seemed more in line of keeping internal order than protecting the Federation.  And on Ellison, before Ryck was even  born, to be sure, the Marines had been used to put down a worker’s rebellion. 

“I don’t know how long we’ll be here,” Ryck told his staff.  “Gunny, let’s get the men settled in.  Hook up with the PI liaison and confirm just where we’re allowed to set up our barracks.  Make sure we’ve got water and power.”

“Roger that, skipper,” Sams said as he stepped away, motioning for Sgt Contradari, his police sergeant.

Ryck turned back to the rest of his staff, knowing that Sams would get billeting and logistics squared away.  “Jeff, I want your patrol out within 30 minutes.  Ephraim, I want your men bedded down.  You’ve got the next patrols in eight hours.”

Ryck didn’t expect that there would be any security issues out here in the booneys.  Even in the cities, there hadn’t been much of anything concrete.  But Marines did not live to ripe old ages and retirements by being complacent.  Ryck had to make sure the area was in fact secure.

“You two,” he said, pointing to the other two lieutenants, “The first sergeant’s got the duty roster.  Until we get a regular rotation set up based on the situation, you two’ve got security.”

Ryck could see the disappointment flicker across 2dLt McAult’s face and made a mental note of it.  Hog McAult didn’t want his Third Platoon to be relegated to standing guard around the camp. 

“This is only temporary,” he told them.  “We’ll be getting frags from battalion, I’m sure, and once we have the lay of the land, everyone will be rotated in and out of camp security and whatever other mission comes up.

“Any questions?” he asked.  When neither lieutenant had one, he added, “Then let’s get going.

“First Sergeant, XO, let’s take a little walk around our new home.  I want a warm and fuzzy that we know everything, and I mean everything about this place.  I don’t want any surprises to come up and bite us in the ass.”

Chapter 12

The battalion staff watched silently as the company liaison made his way out the hatch.  As the door closed, the silence was broken as chairs shifted and they turned to the CO to see what he would say.

LtCol uKhiwa held up his hand to quiet everyone, then said, “So, Captain Ward, two of your Marines damaged one of the company hovers, and that has upset our
hosts
.   You should have trained your Marines to get out of the way of hovers quicker.  Did you hold jumping-over-moving-hover training?  No?  I thought not.  I am extremely, extremely disappointed with you, Captain.  Consider yourself duly chastised, something I am sure has shaken you to your very soul.”

Laughter broke out.  Propitious Interstellar, the very company they had been sent to protect from virtual hordes of angry rebels, had made it their practice to submit demands for compensation for imagined or even real damage to company property done by the Marines.  In this case, a small two-man company hover driven by one of the company senior management had run into two PICS Marines.  The Marines had barely been moved, but the hover had been totaled.

Ryck had been the first on the chopping block for one of PI’s claims.  In order to power up the barracks, he had authorized the re-routing of power transmitters, something he had done only after the company liaison had authorized it.  When the bill was presented to the battalion, Ryck had expected the CO to use it as an excuse to ream him, but the CO had gravely listened to the battalion liaison, then shit-canned the demand as soon as the liaison left.  The CO had asked him if the re-routing was necessary, Ryck said yes, and that was that.  Nothing more was said.  Over the next two weeks, this had almost become a routine, and whoever was responsible for the company getting its collective panties in a wedgie would be heartily scolded, much to the amusement of the entire staff.  There was now even an unofficial contest between the five company commanders to see who could rack up the highest dollar amount in claims.

Ryck still didn’t like the CO.  He respected him to an extent, but he didn’t like him.  But he had to admire how this little act of faux punishment was forming a bond within the officers and senior SNCOs.  That was something that Ryck filed away in the back of his mind to use later when and if it became appropriate.

“Well, now that my duty as commanding officer has been fulfilled—uh, Lieutenant Tuapao, make sure you note that in the battalion log,” he told the adjutant as an aside, “let’s get down to business.  Two, what do you have for us?”

First Lieutenant Maurice “Mary” Abd Elmonim, the battalion intel officer, stood up to begin his brief.  Ryck settled down and attempted to pay attention.  As always, though, he had to wonder how the big S-2
[12]
had acquired his nickname.  Even the CO, who was careful with military etiquette, occasionally resorted to calling him by it.

If Ryck had thought that being out at Camp Joshua, the name Ryck had anointed the old refinery after his brother-in-law, would give him time to act on his own, he was sorely mistaken.  Each and every day, he had to make the trip into Tay Station for the battalion staff meetings.  The CO demanded his physical presence as well.  No conference calls would be accepted without a very valid reason.  At least he wasn’t Preston.  Dundee was too far for a drive, so he had to fly in each morning for the meeting.

And not much was said.  He’d heard Mary’s brief more than a dozen times now, and it rarely varied.  After the first initial problems in Dundee, things had quieted down.  There were protests, but these were minor affairs.  The company spies kept reporting that people were organizing, but not much had transpired.

Ryck took a quick glance at his watch.  The meeting would drag on for another hour or hour-and-a-half.  He’d grab a quick bite in the mess hall, which had better food than they had at Camp Joshua, then make the trip back.  Say 1630, and he’d be at camp, so 1700 could be his brief.  It wasn’t lost on him that as much as he thought the constant meetings were a waste of time, as soon as he would be back, he’d have his own meeting with his staff. 

The battalion meetings were long and boring, but usually there were several pertinent pieces of information that had to be disseminated.  They served a function, Ryck knew.  He just wished he could attend via conference call.

Lost in his thoughts, Ryck hadn’t realized that Mary had stopped talking about ten minutes too soon given his previous briefs.  Master Sergeant Wojik, the comms chief, had come into the meeting and was quietly speaking to the CO.  Everyone else in the room had his eyes locked on the two Marines, wondering what was going on.

The CO glanced at the XO and sergeant major as if he wanted to speak to them alone, but instead, said, “No, pipe it here.  I want everyone to see this as I do.”

Lieutenant George, the top’s
[13]
boss, tried to catch Wojik’s eye, but the master sergeant was keying in something on his PA.  Evidently, George was in the dark on whatever this was as well.

“Gentlemen, it seems as if something has just come up.  This was just broadcast a few minutes ago, and I’m seeing it for the first time as well,” the CO said, nodding at the top to start whatever it was he had to show.

A holo flickered into life over the conference table’s platform.  This wasn’t a true 360-degree holo, but the type recorded by news teams.  With all the Marines around the conference table, that would leave the ones in the back looking through the “rear” of the recording, but built in compensators refracted the recording so that each Marine was presented with the head-on view.

What they saw took a moment to register.  Some sort of cosplay heroine stood in the middle of the recording.  A redhead, she stood tall and had a rather remarkable physique, and the pseudo-military costume left nothing to the imagination.  Behind her, in a rumpled bed, a young girl, obviously naked, but with a sheet covering her front, sat, head down.  What caught Ryck’s attention, however, was the naked, subdued-looking young man just to the cos-play woman’s right.  Something about the man screamed “Marine.”

“Shit, he’s mine,” Donte whispered, confirming Ryck’s fear.

The woman stared into the holo cam and started, “I am a member of the Free Kakurega Militia.  We have been formed to protect our rights under our Federation Charter, rights that have been abrogated by Propitious Interstellar Fabrication, Inc.  Not only have they broken the charter, but they have brought in Federation Marines to crush our legal right to protest.

“Today, we have stopped one of their Marines, Lance Corporal Thane Regent, from abusing a free citizen of Kakurega.”

Donte held up a hand and pointed back down on himself, letting the CO know the Marine was from Bravo Company.

“The Federation Marines have the power here.  They killed three of our citizens when they arrived.  They are enforcing martial law.  And now they take our citizens for their own perverted pleasure.”

At the word “killing,” a murmur of protest erupted from around the room.  Three civilians had died that second day in Dundee, true, but that was hardly the fault of the Marines.  Some civ a-hole had decided to make a Molotov Cocktail, filled with who knows what, to throw at a line of Marines.  The bottle ignited before he could throw it, engulfing ten of the closely-packed protestors.  Preston’s Marines managed to get the flames out on seven of them and get them off to medical care, but three people—two men and one woman—were too badly burnt and were killed at the scene.  The idiot who made the bomb was among the three killed.  Whatever he put in the bottle was wickedly effective and was difficult to put out.  The irony was that even if he had thrown it before it ignited, simple flames would have no effect on Marines in PICS.

The woman continued. “It is up to you, people of Kakurega.  Will you stand for this?  From First Families and all Free Citizens, from employees and indentureds, this is our home, and Propitious Interstellar cannot break the charter as they deem fit. 

“If you agree, on this Saturday, at 9:00 AM in the city, we urge all of you to take to the streets.  We are not advocating violence.  We leave that to the Marines and Propitious Interstellar security forces.  But let your voices be heard.  Let the Federation know we will not stand for this.”

With that, the woman swept one hand back to indicate the naked girl whose sobs were shaking her body.  The holocam lingered on her for a few moments before the recording cut out.  The assembled staff broke out into talk, and the CO had to hold his hand up for silence.

“Captain Ward, prepare your men.  I want Regent located, and we will recover him with whatever force is required.  Sergeant Major, I want everything on this Marine.  Lieutenant Commander Pillbury,” he said to the Navy staff judge advocate attached to the battalion from the
Inchon
, “please brief Captain Rotigue and prepare for a General Court Martial if this Marine was abusing that girl.  XO, the company and the government are going to be screaming about this.  Calm them down and tell them we are acting.  Principal staff, stay put.  I want a course of action in 15 minutes.  The rest of you, you’re dismissed.  You’ve got things to do.”

Ryck jumped up and rushed out the door, signaling Private
Çağlar
on his PA to get the hover running.  He had to get back to Camp Joshua before everything exploded.

Chapter 13

The crowd was large, and its mood was aggressive.  Company spies reported that the camcording of the “Red Athena,” as she was being called, had galvanized the population against both the company and the Marines.  Flash-surveys showed a majority of the population now resented the Marines’ presence and wanted them off the planet.

Lance Corporal Regent had been guilty of nothing more than falling in love.  Interviews with the so-called victim confirmed that.  He had broken regulations by sneaking out for his nooner, but that did not demand a formal court martial.  He was trotted out in front of the camcorders after numerous rehearsals by the Navy, Marines, and Propitious Interstellar handlers, but unfortunately, the young Miss Osterson refused to go on cam, afraid for her family’s safety.  Ryck thought that without her testimony, the official rebuttal fell flat, but CAPT Rotigue, as the senior military in system, backed by the Federation governor, refused to allow the company to try and force the girl to speak.  Ryck thought that was the right decision.

LCpl Regent was given restriction for a month for sneaking out, but nothing that would reflect on his record.  Donte told Ryck that the young Marine had gained a sort of cult status among the other Marines for actually snaring an attractive local sparrow.

Ryck stood motionless in his PICS behind the lines of Marines, who were in turn behind a line of company security personnel. With the spies reporting that Camp Joshua was off the radar screens for the moment, the CO had ordered Ryck to attach two of his platoons to Bravo Company for the demonstration.  Ryck left the XO in charge of the camp and accompanied his men.  As the Bravo commander, Donte had nominal tactical control over Ryck’s two platoons and Jasper’s three weapons sections, but Ryck was not going to lose all control over his men.  Besides, it was not as if Donte was in real command.  If anyone thought the CO was going to stand back during any confrontation, then he was pretty naive.

Ryck wondered if the CO had made a mistake.  If Ryck was to augment any company, perhaps Alpha, all alone in Dundee, would have been a more logical choice.  Reports had just arrived that there had already been a confrontation in the planetary capital with some deaths reported among the protestors.

Ryck had his sensors on their highest resolutions as he scanned for any threat.  If anything did threatened his Marines, he was going to act immediately regardless of the tactical chain of command.  He’d apologize later rather than asking for permission first.

The crowd had a cheerleader sort, gallivanting around in front, his voice booming out as he changed the chants.  The current one was “Red Athena, Red Athena!” and the crowd seemed to be enthusiastically behind it.

Exactly at 8:15, the cheerleader announced that it was time for the Propitious Interstellar anthem.  The crowd booed, but as the music started playing, the crowd joined in with the most awful screeching and off-key singing Ryck had ever heard.  He was glad he was in his PICS:  it wouldn’t be too appropriate for a Marine captain to be spotted laughing as the protestors tweaked the company’s nose.

This rally was being staged by the WRP, the Workers’ Rights Party, and Ryck was curious to see who would be leading it.  The chairman of the party was actually a company spy.  That secret had obviously not been as closely kept as the company had thought because this spy had been murdered the night before.  Another man stepped up to the speaker’s platform.  Ryck didn’t recognize him, but he knew surveillance cams would be sending his image to the company data banks, and they would have the man identified within seconds.

Ryck didn’t like the fact that the Marines were working with a corporate security division, but the fact was that they had the best capabilities on the planet.  If it took working with the devil to keep his Marines out of harm’s way, well, that was a price he was willing to pay.

The speaker gave way to a camcording of Henry Jugos, the civil rights gadfly who was the bane of Federation companies.  Ryck had listened to the man before, and while he usually made some good points, Ryck thought his methods were misguided.  He seemed more inclined to listen to his voice than to get anything actually done.  On Gallahad 3, Pelican Systems had actually come to an initial agreement with its work force until Jugos had arrived to throw sand in the gears.  The agreement was rescinded, and the subsequent negotiations broke down as Jugos pushed for more than the company thought reasonable.  As a result, Pelican pulled off the planet, costing over 100,000 jobs.

A local comedian was up next, but Ryck only figured that out from his outlandish clothes and the laughter of the crowd.  He wasn’t paying attention to the actual words as he scanned the area.

Ryck knew he should be further back with his Marines, who were the second line of defense if the crowd stormed the company headquarters.  But from back there, he’d have to ask to slave into Bravo Company Marines’ displays.  He wanted his own where he could control what he was doing.  So along with Private
Çağlar
, who had become his defacto bat boy,
[14]
he had edged up until he was behind one of Donte’s platoons. 

Çağlar
pulled on Ryck’s arm, directing his attention to the rear.  Ryck had been so focused on what was going on in the front that he’d forgotten the entire battle sphere, a potentially deadly mistake in an actual battle and a very bad habit into which to fall.  Luckily, this time, there was no threat in back of him but rather a big Propitious Interstellar T2000 forklift moving forward.  Ryck stepped aside as it moved up to stop right behind the front line of Marines. 

A civilian climbed on top of the forks, and the operator lifted him up above the Marines.

Ryck focused on the man and blinked twice.  His AI identified the man as Dr. Keller, the Tay Station deputy mayor.

“People of Tay Station, this gathering is illegal and you are ordered to withdraw,” he said over his bullhorn.  “Despite no permits being issued, we have used patience as a show of good will.  That good will has been exhausted, so as law abiding citizens, you must go home.

“If you have reasonable grievances, you may come down to the city offices during normal working hours and file them.

“As a member of the city council, I am issuing the order to cease and desist as per City Proclamation 19.815.3062, the previously declared imposition of martial law.  Failure to do so can result in arrest and imprisonment for a period of no more than ten years.”

Ryck’s AI caught something arching up out of the crowd, and he tensed for a moment as the round, red object sailed from the crowd and arched over to strike the deputy mayor on his thigh.  It was a tomato, and it had been ripe enough to splatter, covering him in juice and seeds.  The crowd roared with laughter and the deputy mayor hurriedly motioned for the forklift operator to lower him. 

“Second Platoon, prepare to advance,” was passed over the tactical net. 

“Jeff, get ready,” Ryck passed to his First Platoon leader. 

First platoon was the Bravo Company’s Second Platoon’s back-up, and Ryck wanted them ready to move in an instant if needed.

The crowd’s laughter broke off and faded to nothing as the company security forces, who had been lining B Street, split in the middle of the line and marched smartly to each side of the street, leaving the center open.  A few people moved forward as if to enter the opening the jacks had made.

“Advance and hold,” the command came over the net, and the Bravo Marines started marching forward.

All three ranks of Marines passed through the jimmylegs and formed up in front of the crowd, looking menacing.  Some of the people tried to back up, but with many more behind them, the press of the crowd kept them locked in place.

“This is your last warning.  Leave the square now and return to your homes or you will be forcibly evicted,” an amplified voice reverberated over the crowd. 

“Move your men up,” Ryck ordered Jeff on the P2P, “but stop on my position.  Do not enter the square.”

“Roger that, sir,” his platoon commander replied. 

Ryck focused on what was happening in front of him at the same time as he watched First Platoon’s icons on his display start moving up from behind him.

The crowd was not evacuating the square, but Ryck didn’t think the people could.  There were just too many people packed in it.  He started to report that back to the Three
[15]
when the order came over the net.

“Bravo-Two, move to Phase Line Lilac,” came over the command circuit.

In battle, phase lines were used to control movement and area.  This was not a contested battle over vast tracts of land, and Ryck thought the use of the term “phase line” was a little grandiose for what was merely the far side of the square.  But military habits died hard, so “Phase Line Lilac” it was.

The PICS Marines started moving forward.  As a sergeant, Ryck had led his Marines forward against a crowd on Alexander to evacuate a Legion negotiating team, and he knew how effective a line of PICS Marines could be.  There was nothing a crowd without heavy weapons could do to stop them.

In this case, the people in the front could not move out of the way fast enough as those in the back realized what was happening too late.  It takes time to overcome inertia, and as those in the rear turned to flee, many of the people in the front were stuck in front of the advancing Marines.

With nowhere to go, quite a few were trampled by the Marines, only to have eager jimmylegs pounce on their broken bodies as the Marines passed over them.  Those still moving bore the brunt of the jimmylegs’ batons.

Ryck steeled himself as he witnessed that.  These people were out of the fight, if a fight it even was.  There was no reason to beat them.  Part of him wanted to march forward and take the batons out of the security forces’ hands and break them in two, but he held his position.  His mission was to wait and react only when ordered to.

Within a few minutes, the Marines were at Lilac.  Ryck thought they had slowed down as the people offered no resistance, but he was not privy to what might have been passed on a Bravo Company P2P.   Except for a dozen or more broken bodies littering the square, it was empty of protestors.  The jimmylegs scurried around, collecting the wounded.  At least Ryck hoped they were only wounded.  He hoped no one had died here this morning.

He wasn’t supposed to worry about that, he knew.  He was a Marine, and he followed orders, orders that went up the chain of command all the way to the Federation Council.  It was the duty to which he had sworn to uphold.

Still, these people had not been a threat.  They were Federation citizens, too, people he was sworn to protect.  What was a Marine supposed to do when there seemed to be a conflict in his sworn duties?

Ryck felt dirty.  He was glad that no Charlie Marine had actually gotten involved—yet.  Hog and his Third Platoon were with Jasper’s Weapon’s Company, and Ryck didn’t know if they were facing anyone. 

Ryck was suddenly happy that he’d been exiled to Camp Joshua.  No one had bothered his Marines there.  Routine patrols might not be exciting, but they were good enough until they were recalled off this grubbing planet.