Rich Man's War (31 page)

“The web of bargains and agreements between us is tangled, yes,” nodded Lung-Wei, “but the end result is clear. We are all exposed. If the ninth strongest economy in the Union withdraws unilaterally from its relationships with all of us, the cascade of consequences will be disastrous for all.”

“And for the Union,” Pedroso concurred, turning to Jackson. “It’s not just a matter of our profits. This is about more than our companies. The entire Union economy could crash.”

“You didn’t think about that before running these policies?” Jackson fumed, gesturing to his holo screen.
“My god, how long have you run the Test this way? Your three companies alone service fifty-eight percent of the schools in the Union!”

“They can’t prove any of that,” Pedroso maintained, waving her hand as if to dismiss some annoying bug. “But if they go public—“

“They just
went
public!” Jackson snapped. “What do you think this meeting was?” He gestured to his Union Assembly staffers. “I’m not putting my people under a gag order to protect your dirty secrets!”

Pedroso inhaled sharply, closing her eyes just long enough to marshal an argument. “Sir, you must. If this…
propaganda
starts to sow doubt about our policies, we’ll see a bigger crisis. The Union
runs
on primary and individual debts! If everyone sees Archangel get away with this, we’ll get half the Union following suit, and that will lead to an economic collapse. We
can’t
let Archangel walk away.”

“What are you saying?
Do you plan to use force?”

“Sir,” Pedroso ventured, “for
the good of the Union, if the Fleet would—“

Jackson slammed his fist down on the table.
“Are you out of your minds? The Fleet exists to protect the whole Union, not to act as anyone’s thugs!” His eyes swept the room once more, looking at the collection of dismayed faces before him. “Andrea Bennet was right. You’re on your own this time.”

He sat back down in his chair, looking again to the complaint laid out in front of him in soft blue lights. “How could you all have been so stupid?”

Showmanship

“
We have seven dead and sixteen wounded, almost all of them from our site security force. The site has suffered material damage, but nothing that can’t be fixed. They clearly weren’t out to destroy the facility, because they had the run of the whole moon. It looks like they were just after the inventory, and most of it was chaff missiles. Lots of chaff missiles. We lost our whole stock. And honestly, we haven’t a clue who hit us. It was a small unit, well-coordinated and obviously with a lot of reach to hit us way the hell out here, but I couldn’t tell you who. Maybe the investigators will come up with something, but right now I’d say it could’ve been anybody.”

--
Internal CDC Communique from Arnold Erlich, Echo-Two Munitions Facility Manager, November 2276

“Docking complete. Boarding permissions granted. Welcome home to
Los Angeles
, marines.”

Corporal Alicia Wong tilted her head back against her chair and let out a long, heavy breath. She felt more than ready to shed her combat gear and the stress of the last mission. For all the close calls and the stiff fight put up by the opposition, her team hadn’t lost anyone
this time like they had on the Edison job. It still left her with plenty of tension to shake off. She wouldn’t be able to talk to anyone about it other than her fellow marines on the shuttle, and on board the Archangel Navy’s sole cruiser, she likely wouldn’t find the necessary privacy even if she tried.

Los Angeles
offered enough other ways to blow off her remaining steam, though. She had friends on board. Easier duties and a familiar setting. Brent.

She smiled.
Mostly Brent
, she admitted silently. Military romances weren’t easy. Regulations against “fraternization” were often vague and contradictory. Nothing in the military could be as simple as “no sleeping with a subordinate or direct superior.” Yet even if a relationship could fit through the byzantine regulations, simple things often became annoyingly complex.

Arbitrary judgments by superiors clarified the poorly-written regulations regarding public displays of affection. Shipboard life meant that finding any sort of extended privacy required heroic feats. And getting caught in a compromising position, regardless of the harmlessness of it all, could still land a couple in hot water for inappropriate conduct if their superiors wanted to be jerks.

Alicia and Brent accepted all that. She’d transferred out of his platoon when they first started dating to avoid any disapproving glares. Her selection for repeated covert operations made for some tension between them—Brent didn’t care for being left behind, nor could she blame him—but at least the frequent separations over the last year made for a little more leniency among their superiors. Sergeants were more apt to turn a blind eye or show a little more tolerance when a couple hadn’t seen one another for several weeks—which, at the moment, described her situation accurately.

Gathering her pulse rifle, ammo bag and helmet, Alicia rose from her seat and found herself behind Corporal Ravenell. She gave him a playful jab. “Haven’t you ever heard of ‘ladies first,’ jerk?”

Ravenell looked over his shoulder. “Are there any here?” He endured another jab under his ribs with a chuckle. “Should’ve gotten up faster.”

Rolling her eyes, Alicia let the issue drop and followed him out. She saw nothing but his back as they stepped off of the shuttle’s gangway and into one of
Los Angeles’s
two small hangars. Then her comrade unexpectedly picked up his pace. “Holy shit!” he laughed, “I didn’t know you were transferring out here!”

Ravenell strode forward to clasp someone’s hand and then hug him. Alicia saw a dark-haired scalp and arms in a
Navy vac suit return the hug, but nothing else at first. She glanced around and found the shuttle bay busy, but otherwise ordinary. The guys from the ship’s armory were apparently a little late to collect her team’s weapons, but that happened all the time. Her attention returned to Ravenell, wondering who he was so excited to see.

S
he blinked. “Tanner?”

“Hey!” he answered brightly. Alicia felt an immediate sense of nervousness and then relief when Tanner stepped forward but didn’t throw his arms around her. “It’s good to see you. I tried looking you both up when I came aboard the other night. I guess you were out,” he added, gesturing to the shuttle.

Alicia had to force a smile, mostly to conceal her surprise. With a brief glance, she had enough clues to explain his presence. His grey Navy vac suit bore third class rank pips on the collar and sleeves in the style of his rating. The sidearm on his hip stood out, too, given that only so many people walked around
Los Angeles
armed. “Wow. Master at Arms, huh?”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Yeah, they let me graduate from my rating school after all.”

His expression made her blink again and shake her head. They’d been in touch through letters. She knew where he’d been. “Sorry. Totally slipped my mind. It’s been kind of far from my thoughts lately. Stuff going on.” Alicia looked around. Naturally, Ravenell had already vanished, leaving her to handle this on her own.

“No worries. I only found out that I’d been assigned here three weeks ago. I guess you’ve been out at least that long, huh? What’s been going on?”

“Training exercises,” Alicia answered out of reflex. She wondered if she saw something in Tanner’s eyes.

“Long exercise,” he observed.

“Yeah, well, some of us gotta work for a living, poster boy,” she winked.

“Hey, I’m trying,” Tanner shrugged. “I’m not down here lollygagging, anyway. I came aboard the day before yesterday, so I’m still getting acclimated. Just getting the tour from one of the other MAs right now, but he stepped off for a second. Hey, you need help with anything?” Tanner moved forward, his hand outstretched.

“No, I’m good. I’ve got all my stuff.” Alicia didn’t know whether to step back or not, or if she was acting naturally enough. She noted the curious way he looked her over and knew he couldn’t be checking out her figure, what with all the combat gear. In fact, it was the combat gear that likely had his attention.

She had the same problem with Brent after the first mission. “Listen, I’ve got things to take care of
.”

“Sure,” Tanner nodded. She couldn’t miss the softening of his tone. He plainly realized this was awkward for her, though probably not why. “Hopefully I’ll get to catch up with you later? It’s nice to see a familiar face.”

“Yeah, I know the feeling,” she agreed, and gave a genuine grin. “There are a couple of them on this ship.”

“Malone,” said a firm, strong and unmistakable woman’s voice.

He winced involuntarily before slowly turning around. Unable to resist the opportunity despite her worries, Alicia managed to slip in a whack at his backside with the butt of her pulse rifle before walking away. “Have fun with that,” she hissed before quickly striding off the flight deck.

That was stupid
, she thought once she’d crossed into the nearby passageway.
He’s gonna think you did that to flirt. And maybe you did,
she admitted, and then sighed.

No. You didn’t. Stupid.

Alicia was perfectly happy with the relationship she had. About the worst thing she had to deal with were Brent’s worries about her safety on missions she couldn’t tell him about… and, now, the presence of the only other guy she’d ever slept with on the same ship.

It
’ll be fine. Tanner knows I’m seeing someone. Brent might not be the jealous type. We are all adults. We don’t have to have any drama. It’ll be fine.

And if it all goes bad
ly I can beat the hell out of both of them.

* * *

“Master at Arms,” Janeka observed flatly after giving him a long, head-to-toe look.

Tanner nodded. She said nothing.
You’re not in basic anymore
, he thought.
Be cool.
“Yep.”

She quirked an eyebrow. He wondered if she meant it as a warning. “What brings you to
Los Angeles
?”

“I’m part of the crew now, gunny
.” He couldn’t help but notice that his escort was still off doing whatever, leaving Tanner to face this reintroduction alone. He wondered if the rest of the crew of
Los Angeles
was properly terrified of Gunnery Sergeant Janeka.

“I see. You’re here to keep my marines and all these navy types in line?”

“Beg your pardon?”

“Don’t beg. Begging is pathetic.”

Tanner swallowed.
Okay. Fine.
“Yes, gunny. Yes, I am.”

She nodded, then looked him up and down again. The silence held for a long moment that grew more and more awkward for Tanner as it seemed to stretch into an eternity. Her tone remained flat as she said, “You never call. You never write.”

“I’m sor—?” he blinked in surprise, but bit off his response. “I didn’t think you missed me.”

“So it’s not a matter of you being a famous big shot and us little people not being worth your time?”

He didn’t look away. “That’s nonsense, gunny. Little people like you are always worth my time.”

Her eyes narrowed, but he thought he saw one corner of her lip twitch. She held out her open hand, and he managed not to flinch.

Tanner accepted her handshake. Unsurprisingly, she was still stronger, but she didn’t squeeze so hard as to make a point of it. “I’m very glad to have you aboard, Malone.”

“Thank you, gunny. It’s nice to see you, too,” Tanner replied, surprised by his own smile.

“I have work to do. I’m sure I’ll see you later. Carry on,” Janeka nodded, and then moved off. Tanner watched her step away, and then noticed the shocked stares from most of the rest of the Navy personnel in view.

Yup. Properly terrified
.

Predictably, Tanner’s escort and tour guide returned only after their conversation had ended. “Hey, you know Gunny Janeka?” asked MA1 Lewis.

“Yeah,” Tanner nodded, shaking off the rest of his nerves from the encounter. “Yeah, she was one of my company commanders in basic.”

“Holy shit,” Lewis chuckled, “you did six months in basic under
her
?” He patted Tanner on the back, both out of sympathy and to direct him further along on their way. “Wow. I can’t imagine what that was like.”

“She’s not so…” Tanner began, and then stopped. He opened his mouth again to offer another word of defense, but that failed him, too. Ultimately, he shrugged. “If it hadn’t been for her, I’d be dead.”

“Huh. Well, she does a pretty good job of keeping her marines in line. From what I’ve heard, she’s pretty serious in the ring, sparring and stuff. Been on board for about a year now.”

“Yeah, that’s her.
” Tanner looked back to the shuttle as they left the flight deck. Ravenell and another marine offloaded a plasma repeater and its accompanying backpack of power cells, handing it over to the supply crew. Like Alicia and Janeka, Ravenell wore more substantial protection than the combat jacket and helmet that Tanner had used while on
Joan of Arc
—and, like Alicia’s, Ravenell’s gear looked like it had seen some serious use. “Like I said, I’ve been in touch with a few people from basic who’re on the ship. Guess I’m surprised they didn’t mention her being on board. What’s she do here?”

“You’d have to look it up. I presume she rides herd on the marine detachment. I’m sure she has a formal position on the chain of command, but it’s never been a concern for me.”

“So you don’t know what that was all about?” Tanner asked, jerking his thumb over his shoulder.

Lewis gave Tanner a sober
look. He replied quietly, though they were alone in the passageway. “Nope. If they say it’s a training exercise, then it’s a training exercise.”

Tanner’s eyebrow rose. He caught the warning, but
pushed a little further anyway. “Don’t we have enough clearance to find out?” he asked, lowering his voice to match his companion’s.

The older MA shook his head. “There’s clearance, and then there’s need-to-know. They didn’t talk to you about that in MA school? Or basic?”

“Sure, but the first thing I learned out of basic is that not every ship actually follows the manuals. Can’t take stuff like that for granted. I can play by the book just fine, but I’ve learned to at least ask.”

“
Okay. On this ship, when it comes to security, we play it by the book. If we get wind that something suspicious is goin’ on with the marines and their ‘training exercises’ that affects ship security or crosses a legal line? Then, yeah, we look into it, and we’ve got clearance. But until then, we take what they tell us at face value and leave it alone. Training exercise. Nothing more.”

“Understood,” Tanner nodded.

“You’ll get to work with the marines enough, anyway,” Lewis went on. “They help fill out shipboard security posts and sometimes boarding teams, too, which means a lot of crossover and shared responsibility. We handle the training for all that. Seems like less of an issue for you ‘new guard’ types, since that extended basic program has such a big boarding team component, but we still have to keep everyone up with standards and such. Plus if the marines have an incident that goes beyond a minor infraction, they have to call us in—which doesn’t make any of them happy, mind you. Marines like to take care of their own, but rules are rules, right?”