First Command

by Rodney Smith

  “Yes, Mr. Debran, I’ll see to it immediately. I know just who to contact.”

  Mr. Debran thought to himself that there were trillions of credits to be made here if he could move quickly.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Steven Maynard met with Friedrich Debran in the main administrative building. Mr. Debran made no pleasantries and launched right into his presentation.

  “Mr. Maynard, the one constant in the Galactic Republic is the need for more land and resources. Earth is over-populated. The original ten new worlds are approaching over-population, as are several of the second tier worlds. They are constantly seeking out new habitable worlds for settlement of excess population. They’re willing to pay generously for open land on which to settle these immigrants. I propose to make effective use of my contacts in the Galactic Republic, on your behalf, to offer land that you make available to me. I will collect all funds, arrange transport here, meet any planetary clearance procedures you establish, and settle the new immigrants here. When they are happily settled, I will provide you a complete accounting, and keep only a 30% commission. Besides, with your surrender to the Galactic Republic, your supply of workers dries up.”

  Steven Maynard studied Mr. Debran’s written proposal in front of him while he listened to the briefing. At Mr. Debran’s pause he said, “Mr. Debran, I like your proposal. There is one minor change we would like to make. We would like 300 million credits up front to ensure you are focused on our mutual benefit.”

  Friedrich Debran stood up. “Do you think me a fool? It will be years before I’d make any return on that investment.”

  “No, Mr. Debran, I do not think you a fool. Do not think me one, either. You stand to make trillions of credits from this agency. There is over 3 billion excess population on Earth and the ten first tier worlds and half that number in the second tier worlds you speak of. If you made only a credit per immigrant you would recoup your entire investment and then some in a few months. Of course, we both know you will receive much more than a credit per immigrant. 300 million is our price. Take it or leave it.”

  Friedrich Debran had been a shrewd negotiator long enough to know when the negotiation was over. He had been willing to pay much more for this deal, so he was still coming out ahead. He reached his hand across the table to shake Steven’s hand and said, “We have a deal.”

  In a few moments the necessary changes had been made, the credits transfer verified, and the deal signed. Both sides were happy.

  * * * * *

  Thorson returned by midday, and Steven pulled the lawyers into his office and began work on the surrender negotiation preliminaries. The Admiral waited patiently for an hour, then demanded the negotiations begin. Steven, Thorson, and the team of lawyers sat down at the conference table opposite Admiral Minacci, Kelly, and the 3rd ALG JAGs.

  The negotiation went swiftly with Steven agreeing to every term the Fleet JAGs insisted on. Maynard’s lawyer offered a few changes to the document, mostly dealing with recognizing the existing government of Barataria and respect for its laws. By early evening, the documents had been verified by both teams of lawyers and agreed to for signature tomorrow at the surrender ceremony.

  The Brotherhood’s lawyers also presented certified copies of Barataria’s non-aligned world charter, finalized filed claims on three adjacent solar systems, filed application for GR membership, and appointment of Francis Jesse Thorson as the Ambassador-at-Large for Baratarian and GR relationships.

  Now all that was needed was the thumbprint acceptance tomorrow at midday, to make it all official. Roger Delvane sat down with Admiral Minacci’s protocol officer to iron out the details for the ceremony tomorrow, while Kelly and the admiral retired to the guest quarters that had been made available to them just across from the parade field. Steven Maynard had invited them to dinner at the best restaurant on Barataria, and Kelly had requested invitations for CPT Chen, LTJG Cortez, and Alistair.

  While Kelly was changing he heard a knock on his door. He opened the door to see Mary Chen in her hot weather dress uniform. It featured a white hat and shirt worn outside the waistband of the red skirt, which showed off Mary’s shapely legs.

  She strode by Kelly without asking. Kelly shrugged, closed the door, and continued getting dressed. He wore his blue-black pants and a T-shirt, having not yet put on his uniform shirt. Mary sat on the bed, smoothing her skirt to prevent wrinkles.

  “What can I do for you, Mary?”

  She laughed and said, “Well, I’ve been trying to get into your bed for a while now and this is as close as I’ve gotten. No, I got ready too soon and was becoming stir crazy in my room. I hate these events. I never know how to make polite conversation. I hope you don’t mind the company.”

  “It’s alright. When in doubt, ask if the weather is normal. People love to talk about their weather to strangers. If that dries up, compliment them on something cultural you’ve seen as you’ve wandered around the city. I would recommend asking them about the ruins of the previous civilization. Ruin View is the name of the restaurant.”

  She shifted slightly on the bed, causing her skirt to hike up and expose more of her nice legs. She said, “Thanks, I’ll use those. As you might have imagined, my Dad was not big on protocol or niceties. He was a legend in the Marines, but not for his tact or diplomacy.”

  Kelly pulled on his shirt, buttoned it, and tucked it in. Mary got up off the bed to help him get it tucked evenly across the back. When they both looked in the mirror and were satisfied with their appearance, they left the room.

  Alistair and Connie were in the corridor. Kelly had noticed the two becoming quite chummy in the last week. He wished them the best. Their duties wouldn’t allow much chance to be together after Alistair was delivered back to his ship. The Vigilant’s patrol schedule and the wide-ranging assignments of a Reporting Officer would make future meetings rare. They looked happy in each other’s company, so Kelly kept his thoughts to himself.

  They met the Admiral in the lobby, and waited a short time for Mr. Delvane to arrive with a ground car. The ground car was a luxury model and they all fit in the passenger’s compartment with no crowding. Mr. Delvane kept a running commentary of local sights and places of interest. Kelly elbowed Mary so she’d pay attention.

  Shortly, they arrived at the restaurant and Alistair had a sheepish look on his face. Kelly asked what was the matter when they all got out. He mentioned that he had been here quite recently. Kelly could only imagine what that meant.

  They had the restaurant to themselves. Mr. Maynard met them at the door. He escorted the admiral into a small, intimate bar and got a drink for him. He had arranged for all their counterparts to meet them at the door and similarly escort them to the bar. Kelly’s unfortunate counterpart was the Torpedo Ship Wing Commander. A handsome, but celibate, Ascetic Presbyter, first-class, escorted Mary. A Torpedo Ship Flight Commander was Connie’s escort. Ambassador Thorson escorted Alistair.

  After a couple of drinks and some polite, but sometimes restrained conversation, all were ushered into the dining room by Mr. Delvane. The dinner was marvelous, a delicious four-course meal of soup, roast meat with local vegetables, salad, and a dessert. Kelly noticed the Ascetic Presbyter had no problem consuming the fine food. The Admiral asked if he could compliment the chef and a short pudgy woman in white chef’s clothes was brought out to meet him and share a glass of wine.

  She was only slightly embarrassed by the effusive praise heaped upon her by the Admiral. Then she saw Alistair at the end of the table. She walked up to him, slapped him on the back, and said that he did look them up as he promised and this time he did come in through the front door. An awkward moment was diffused when Alistair replied that he just had to come back to sample more of her exquisite cuisine. She beamed.

  After tables were cleared and brandy had been served, Steven asked the admiral about the K’Rang. He asked if they had any evidence the K’Rang were going to advance into the Star Cluster. Admiral Minacci replied that there was
a K’Rang fleet poised just outside the cluster, but that they had yet to exhibit any behavior that signified they were preparing to move into the cluster. Steven vowed to place all Baratarian forces under Admiral Minacci’s command if the K’Rang made any move into the cluster. The Admiral thanked him for his faith in him. He told Steven that he had requested a cruiser squadron be sent to reinforce him. Now, if they only get here before the K’Rang moved.

  The dinner broke up. The Admiral, Kelly, and Mary were dropped off at the guesthouse, while Connie and Alistair were taken on to the Vigilant. Kelly changed into his duty uniform and met Mary to walk over to their respective charges. Kelly made a quick walk through of the Vigilant; saw all was as it should be. Mary made a similar walk through of her unit berthed on board the AS-500, and returned with Kelly to the guesthouse.

  Kelly awoke alone in the early morning light. A fully dressed Mary Chen leaned over him, kissed him, and said, “Go back to sleep. You have two hours before the alarm goes off.”

  She said she was going back to her room to change into her physical training clothes and go for a run. She asked if he would care to join her. Kelly rose up, kissed her, and said he’d already had enough exercise keeping up with her. He’d pass on the run.

  She asked, “Would you like to help me get cleaned up after my run? You could scrub my back.”

  Kelly smiled at the thought, but passed. He would probably be back on the Vigilant for breakfast. “Why don’t you join me there after you clean up from your run?”

  As she headed out the door, she said, “An unmetered shower together would have been a lot more fun.”

  * * * * *

  The time for the ceremony approached. Kelly called his crew into formation and inspected their uniforms for the ceremony. Mary’s inspection was formal and highly regimented, while Kelly’s inspection was relaxed and matter of fact. Kelly was impressed with the way she could slap the heavy M57 blast rifle from the arms of her Marines and twirl it like it was a plastic toy. When it came to a stop she let go and it hung in the air for a split second, then the Marine grasped and cycled the weapon closed and safe.

  Kelly had his people relax in the shadow beneath the Vigilant. Mary filed hers back inside the AS-500. Kelly considered moving his crew back into the cooled Vigilant, but the Ascetics started marching onto the field. Kelly checked his pocket terminal and saw they were only 30 minutes away from the start. He told Chief B to fall them in on their positions at 15 minutes out.

  He watched the Ascetics march in long battalion formations onto the field in their camouflage uniforms, with their traditional white tunic surmounted by a red cross. Surprisingly, at the end of their formation was a mobile air and space defense battalion floating onto the field mounted on their hover carriers. Kelly didn’t know where this equipment had been. His sensors hadn’t found them. These combined missile and hypervelocity plasma gun systems would prove useful and effective if the K’Rang penetrated all the way to Barataria. Kelly was just glad they were hidden away while he was merrily skipping across the atmosphere. He would have to ask one of the Ascetics where they had been stored.

  Chief Blankenship formed up the ship’s company and marched them into position to the left of the reviewing stand. No one would mistake them for a drill team, but the crew was obviously doing their best. Their turning movements were crisp, they were in step, and they all halted at the same time. On the opposite side of the reviewing stand, Mary marched her company to their places and halted them precisely on their marks.

  With the last of the troops positioned, Mr. Delvane stepped up to the podium. Kelly and Mary hurried to their seats. Kelly was to the immediate left of the Admiral. Mary took her place two chairs further down. A pocket terminal with the sequence of events on the screen had been placed on every seat.

  Mr. Delvane welcomed all visitors and dignitaries to the surrender ceremony. He enjoined all to see this as the evolution of Barataria from a non-aligned world to a member planet in the Galactic Republic. The large number of former captives in the crowd cheered loudly.

  The announcer called attention to the sky as the six remaining torpedo ship squadrons made a fly over of the ceremony in four-ship formations. They were followed across the sky by twelve Undefeated-class cutters in single file.

  * * * * *

  Friedrich Debran had also been invited to the ceremony. He and his family sat on the opposite side of the platform from the admiral and Kelly. Julia Debran, seated next to him, was bored and wished she could be anywhere but in this folding chair in the hot sun, watching a bunch of fancily dressed soldiers marching around. She didn’t understand why they hadn’t already signed the papers and been done with it without all this pomp and circumstances.

  As the first torpedo squadron made its way across the sky and all eyes were looking up, her supplied pocket terminal buzzed. Julia looked down, expecting it to say something about the squadron, but instead she saw the following:

  “Do you still want to divorce your husband? If yes, press Continue. Thorson.”

  She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. She looked around and all eyes were still looking skyward. She pushed Continue on the screen.

  “Do you wish a traditional divorce with 50% community property settlement or a no fault divorce with no settlement? Push A for traditional. Push B for no fault.”

  She pushed A and another screen appeared.

  “That option is not available at this time. Press return for another option.”

  She laughed, pressed return, and chose option B. Another screen came up.

  “Are you Julia Halscomb Debran? Press yes or no.”

  She pressed yes and that screen was replaced as yet another screen appeared.

  “Are you currently married to Friedrich Rainer Debran resulting from a civil ceremony conducted on Rigel Station on 2295.08.03?”

  She wondered where this was going and how long it would take. The aircraft had almost all passed over the parade field. She pressed yes and yet another screen appeared.

  “Do you renounce your GR citizenship in favor of Baratarian citizenship? Press yes or no. (Do not worry. Your GR citizenship will be restored in a month’s time when our request to join the Galactic Republic is approved.)”

  Julia pressed yes and the screen changed one last time.

  “In accordance with the Captains’ Court of Barataria, your request for summary divorce is granted. Congratulations, this is a perfectly legal and proper divorce recognizable in any GR court. It is in accordance with Baratarian law, which will be recognized as legitimate by the GR representatives when they thumb the surrender document. Keep this to yourself until you hear from me personally. Thorson.”

  Her screen returned to the ceremony’s sequence of events. Julia did not know what to make of this. She prayed it was not some joke or trick by Friedrich. Her heart was buoyed by the thought it might be real. She looked at the ceremony with a renewed interest. The music playing as the Ascetics passed in review actually had her toes tapping to the beat.

  The next to final event of the ceremony was a fly over by all 48 fighters and attack ships from the Assault Landing Carrier Golden Eagle. Then Steven Maynard and Admiral Minacci jointly thumbed the surrender documents. The final event was a prayer by the Bishop-Commander of the Ascetic Brigade. It asked for repose of the souls of those lost in the recent battle and for peace to reign over Barataria.

  After the prayer, he gave the command to his unit to return to their barracks. That was the cue for Mary’s Marines and Kelly’s crew to retire from the field. In crisp military fashion, both units marched away from the reviewing stand and onto either the AS-500 or the Vigilant.

  Refreshments were served in a large tent immediately behind the reviewing stand. Kelly followed the Admiral into the tent to get a pirate’s idea of refreshments. Rum punches, brandy, port, and clarets were free and freely served. Kelly watched his alcohol intake to maintain a clear head, and was rewarded with the rare occasion of Mr. Debran getting his own back. Deb
ran was in a conversation circle with Maynard, the admiral, and Kelly. Debran’s wife and daughters were making their way down a buffet table. Ambassador Thorson came up to Mr. Maynard and whispered something in his ear.

  Mr. Maynard looked over at Mr. Debran and said, “Friedrich, remember earlier when I said that I’m not a fool either? Do you know what those two survey ships you sent to the yellow sun systems will find when they arrive? They will find registered survey marker satellites specifying that Barataria legally claims those systems. Why don’t you call your Mr. Delphant and recall them so they don’t waste any more of your credits and time than they already have?”

  Debran was furious to have been caught in a subterfuge and called out on it in public. He yelled for his wife and daughters to come along that they were leaving. His wife was talking to the ambassador and did not hear him. Debran rushed over, reached out, and grabbed Julia roughly by the wrist and started pulling her along. The next thing he knew was that he was in the air and crashing onto the hard turf floor under the tent. Julia had just executed a perfect hip throw on Friedrich.

  She stood over him, yelling, “Don’t you ever touch me again!”

  He stood up, dusted himself off, and spoke coldly to her, “You are still my wife. You will do as I tell you and that goes for those slut daughters of yours as well.”

  Julia reared back and punched him square dead on the nose. Debran wound up on the ground again.

  As he picked himself up off the ground again, a small man walked up to Debran and asked him if he was Friedrich Rainer Debran. Friedrich, already in a foul mood, pulled a handkerchief from his pocket to staunch his nosebleed, turned on the man and said, “Of course I am, you idiot! What do you want?”