Starfist: A World of Hurt (14 page)

The presentation ceremony had been long by the time the first Marine stepped out to pass in review; Aguinaldo had to hand out nearly two thousand decorations, medals, and ribbons.

"Sir, it will go a lot faster if you simply pin the medals on the major subordinate commanders and let them handle giving the medals to their men," Colonel Newton Helms, a newly appointed member of his staff, had advised when Aguinaldo announced his intention to pin the medal on each Marine who'd earned it.

"I'm fully aware of that, Colonel," the commandant had replied dryly. "But those Marines did something extraordinary, and they deserve to receive their medals in an extraordinary manner." He didn't say anything more on the subject, but did make a mental note to transfer Colonel Helms to a hardship post as soon as they returned to Earth--the man had obviously forgotten how important enlisted Marines and junior officers were.

Everyone agreed that to receive a medal from the hands of the commandant himself was most decidedly extraordinary. But Aguinaldo agreed that pinning the medal on every man who'd earned it would take far too long, so he agreed to a compromise, merely handing the medals to the men marching up to him in a line.

At length the parade passed into the history of Camp Ellis, 34th FIST, and Thorsfinni's World. That was only the first of the formalities. It was followed by a reception in the Bronnysund town hall, to which every local dignitary was invited, as well as everybody who could lay the remotest claim to prominence in Bronnysund or the surrounding communities.

The town hall quickly became so tightly packed that Mayor Stor Edval started moving people in and out of the hall in a reception line. The procession through the line was remarkably orderly, and no more than a dozen fights broke out over accusations of cutting in or undue pushing. Next came celebratory parties in the Officers' Club, the Noncommissioned Officers'

Club, and the Enlisted Men's Club, each of which was attended briefly by the commandant.

Then it was off to New Oslo for a formal reception with the President, the Althing, the national judiciary, and local dignitaries.

It was the fourth day of his visit before Commandant Aguinaldo was finally able to sit down with Brigadier Sturgeon to discuss the other reason for his visit to Thorsfinni's World.

Neither their staff nor aides attended. They met alone because the Skinks were part of the discussion. The FIST staff could have met with the commandant without compromising security because they knew full well about the Skinks, but Aguinaldo's people weren't cleared for that knowledge, and they'd have too many questions he either couldn't or didn't want to answer if he met with the FIST staff and excluded his own.

"Congratulations, sir," Sturgeon said. "And here I thought Assistant Commandant was a terminal appointment."

"Thank you, Ted," Aguinaldo said modestly. His use of the first name signaled that the meeting was informal and off the record. "It always has been, but President Chang-Sturdevant believes I can serve the Confederation better as commandant than as commander of a special task force. It happened right after I sent you that last back-channel."

They were in Sturgeon's office. He served tea for them both from a pot on a side table.

Aguinaldo had brought two kilos of Earth-grown tea as a present. Sturgeon set the cups down on a coffee table and sat opposite Aguinaldo.

"But you knew when you wrote that, didn't you, Andy? Or did you plan to retire and visit on your own?" The message had concluded with,
Be patient, I'll fill you in when I see
you--which will be sooner than you expect,
and this was certainly sooner than he'd expected.

Aguinaldo nodded. "I knew, but wasn't at liberty to say. This trip," he gestured vaguely,

"well, it's been several administrations since a CMC toured any but the installations closest to Earth."

Sturgeon briskly nodded. It took too long to visit remote Marine bases, and most Commandants of the Marine Corps were political animals who didn't like to spend any more time than absolutely necessary away from the center of power.

"So I'm breaking with recent tradition." He paused to sip at his tea. "I'm actually taking this tour to visit you, but it would be too obvious if Camp Ellis was my only stop. Thorsfinni's World is the first of four 'hardship posts' I'm visiting." His mouth twisted into a wry smile.

"Showing the troops their commandant really does care about them."

Sturgeon simply nodded and waited for Aguinaldo to get to the reason for his visit. He didn't have to wait long.

"Kingdom's been quarantined."

"I suspected it would be."

"As has 26th FIST."

Sturgeon merely nodded. He'd thought that was a foregone conclusion.

"And the
Grandar Bay
has been reported lost in a Beamspace jump."

"She was a good ship, a good crew," Sturgeon said. "Commodore Borland and I formed a strong working relationship, even a friendship, during the Kingdom campaign. How did it happen?"

"Ted, I said 'reported.' Right now, the
Grandar Bay
is on station a couple of light-hours from Thorsfinni's World."

Sturgeon looked at him sharply. "Are are you saying what I think you are, Andy?"

"I'm sure I am. Someone far enough above me that I don't know who decided it was easier to 'lose' the
Grandar Bay
than to quarantine her."

Sturgeon sat back and slapped his hands on the arms of his chair. "Well! The powers that be are certainly trying to contain knowledge of the Skinks."

"They are indeed. I have to wonder how much longer the secret can be kept. The Skinks'

next incursion probably won't be the one that breaks the news into the open, but the one after that could be."

Sturgeon cocked an eyebrow. "Do we now have intelligence about their plans? Do we know what their next incursion will be?"

Aguinaldo shook his head. "No. What we
do
have is reports from a colony world that sound like the Skinks are present and doing something, maybe setting up a staging area the way they did on Quagmire." He looked Sturgeon in the eye. "I'm sending 34th FIST to Maugham's World aboard the
Grandar Bay
to deal with the situation there. Whatever it is."

"How soon?"

"The
Grandar Bay
can be here in days. How well are your new men integrated?"

"Well enough to do the job." He chuckled. "They've had time to acclimate to the shock of being assigned here for the duration, even if they aren't over it. We can be ready to embark as soon as she arrives."

"You don't need to go that soon. Take two or three weeks. You'll need the extra time to sort out the other present I brought you."

Sturgeon cocked an eyebrow. "Yes?" A "present" that would need a week or two to sort out wouldn't be something on the order of a two- kilo block of tea.

"I have, still on board the
Northumberland,
another hundred Marines for 34th FIST. You can assign them however you like, but I convinced President Chang-Sturdevant to go outside channels to get them to you for use as a Whiskey Company, to supply immediate replacements for combat losses. Another fifty Marines should arrive in a few days, certainly before the
Grandar Bay
reaches orbit."

For long moments Brigadier Sturgeon simply looked at the Commandant of the Marine Corps. Getting replacements for combat losses
before
a deployment was unheard of. "How bad is it on--where did you say, Maugham's Station?"

Aguinaldo shrugged. "All we have is two seemingly routine Unexplained Expiration reports about isolated individuals who died under mysterious circumstances. Some kind of acid seems to have been involved. The reports didn't include the results of lab analysis, so I have no way of knowing whether they were killed by Skink acid shooters."

"So it could be something as big as Kingdom, or it could be nothing."

"Exactly."

"And we don't know what reports might have come in since you left Earth--or might be en route now."

Aguinaldo didn't bother to reply.

Sturgeon smiled the wry smile Aguinaldo had earlier. "Well, we're Marines. Half the time when we go on deployments, we don't know what to expect when we get where we're going.

The other half of the time, what we expect to find is no longer the case when we get there."

"Anything else I can get for you?"

Sturgeon thought for a moment, then said, "I hate to do this to anyone, but there was a surveillance and radar tech on board the
Fairfax County
when one of my platoons first encountered the Skinks. I understand his work was instrumental in locating their base for my Marines to destroy. I'm sure it would be extremely helpful if he was assigned to the
Grandar
Bay.
"

"If you can get his name and rating for me, I'll get a drone off to the CNO before I leave tonight."

"I'll have it. Excuse me, sir." He reached for his comm. "Lieutenant," he said when his aide came on, "Contact Captain Conorado. Tell him I need the name and rating of that SRA tech on the
Fairfax
when his third platoon went to Society 437. I need it ASAP."

He barely had time to ask if the commandant wanted another cup of tea before his comm unit sounded an incoming message. He answered, said "Thank you," then turned to Aguinaldo. "He was SRA3 Hummfree. It's been long enough that if he's still in the navy, he's probably been promoted."

"If he can be found, I'll get him for you. There's no telling how long it'll take to get him to the
Grandar Bay,
though." He stood up.

"Thank you, sir. I know that you'll do everything possible, and quite a bit that isn't."

Aguinaldo smiled. "I may be spending nearly all of my time in Fargo now, but I'm still a Marine."

Sturgeon smiled back. "I know. We're Marines; the merely difficult we do immediately, the impossible may take an extra day."

Hours before the
Northumberland
left orbit, one hundred Marines made planetfall and were transported into a vacant, isolated barracks. Their barracks was doubly isolated: not only was it set somewhat apart from the others on base, it was surrounded by a hastily erected fence, and the single entrance was guarded round the clock by two military policemen. The MPs neither talked to the Marines behind the fence nor allowed anyone through it without a pass signed by Brigadier Sturgeon--and the FIST commander signed only one such pass. FIST Sergeant Major Shiro used it only after the hundred Marines had been joined by another fifty off the CNSS
MacAninley,
when he came to escort them to the base theater for orientation.

The Marines off the
MacAninley,
who had only been incarcerated for a few hours, were merely curious about being locked away. The Marines off the
Northumberland,
having been locked up for six days, were in a state of controlled fury--particularly those who had already served a tour of duty elsewhere and knew how replacements were normally treated upon arrival at a new duty post.

"COMP-ney, a-ten-HUT!" Sergeant Major Shiro's voice rang out through the base theater.

The buzz of conversation ceased and there was a clatter of feet and the harsh rustle of cloth as the 150 Marines in the theater's front rows jumped erect, heels together, feet at a forty-five degree angle, legs and backs straight, heads facing forward, arms along their sides. Their eyes should have looked straight ahead, but all tracked the Marine who strode onto the stage to the podium at its center front. He wore undress reds, khaki shirt over gold trousers. The silver nova of a brigadier adorned his shirt collars. Surprisingly few ribbons for someone of his rank were arrayed above his left breast pocket--surprising until the observers realized every one of the ribbons was a decoration for personal or unit heroism in combat, none were campaign or service medals.

The brigadier gained the podium and placed his hands on its sides as he looked over the Marines standing before him and made a mental note of the fact that some--many--appeared unhappy. He understood their unhappiness; he would feel the same way in their situation. After a moment he ordered in a crisp voice, "Seats!"

There was another rumble as the Marines resumed their seats. None slouched, none lounged, all looked alert, all were quiet. The most experienced prepared themselves to demand an explanation for their treatment if one wasn't forthcoming.

"I am Brigadier Theodosius Sturgeon, commander of 34th Fleet Initial Strike Team, Confederation Marine Corps. Thirty-fourth FIST is one of the proudest units in the Corps.

We have been on more deployments and seen more combat than any other in the modern history of the Corps. Thirty-fourth FIST is more often than not on deployment, fighting in major wars, minor wars, peacekeeping missions, peace-making missions, search and rescue missions, and show-of-force missions.

"Those of you who have been around for a while know that when a large number of replacements joins a FIST, the commander gives brief 'welcome aboard' remarks, then hands them off to his staff, who provide whatever further orientation is necessary.

"I would like to do that, say, 'Welcome to 34th FIST and I'll hand you off to my staff,' but I won't." He paused for a few seconds, then repeated, "I won't say 'welcome to 34th FIST.'

"Some of you, I know, are angry about the fact that you have been locked away for six days, as though you had been tried and convicted and nobody told you what the charges were. To you, I offer my apologies for that treatment. But I wanted to give all of you your briefing at once, and didn't want you to hear things from someone else before you heard them from me.

"You see, 34th FIST has another kind of mission in addition to those that FISTs are normally assigned. I believe I would be derelict if I didn't tell you about it myself.

"I'm sure many of you have heard rumors of hostile alien sentiences on the frontiers of Human Space." He ignored the surprised gasps of some of the men facing him. "I'd be very surprised if any of you have not at one time or another seen vids or trids, or read novels about intrepid Marines, sailors, or soldiers fighting hostile aliens; such entertainments are rather popular. I'm sure most of you who have heard the rumors that hostile aliens are real discounted them as the products of overheated imaginations. After all, there are never any confirming news reports, and the Confederation has long held the position that there are no sentient aliens, hostile or otherwise." He paused a beat to read the audience. Nervous rustling was increasing throughout the theater.