“Hard to tell. This was supposed to be our first time as a crew today.”
“Not that. We know she’s got tank chops. You know, as first sergeant.”
“Still hard to tell. I get the feeling she’s just biding her time, watching and evaluating.”
“That sound ominous,” Noah said as Chili shrugged.
“What about you? How’s your new driver?”
“Nervous. He’s barely said a word so far. Today was our first day out as a team, too.”
Noah didn’t know what to make of Corporal Moby Jankowski. He’d made it through Armor School, so he was qualified, but the quiet Marine certainly wasn’t making an impact with his presence. Noah was now the Anvil’s gunner, but he was anxious to make sure that the tank had a strong Marine in the driver’s seat.
“He’ll be fine. It’s Cremineli you need to be worried about.”
Ever since Chili had gotten word that he’d be moving to a new tank, he’d been more open about his disdain for the Anvil’s commander. He hadn’t openly challenged the staff sergeant, but he’d been free to express his opinions to Noah. Noah thought Chili might be going overboard, but he had to admit that there were some truths to Chili’s complaints.
Noah opened his mouth to reply when First Sergeant St. Cloud screamed out, “Attention on deck!”
Noah jumped to his feet, craning his eyes to see not only the company commander, but the battalion commander stride into the theater. Whatever was up, it was bigger than Noah had guessed.
The two officers marched to the stage where the battalion CO took out a collar mic and turned it on before facing the company.
“Ooh-rah, Charlie,” the lieutenant colonel called out to the return “ooh-rah” from the still standing Marines.
“That’s what I like to hear. Take your seats.
“I’m sorry to interfere with your range day. I know you’re anxious to get out and get muddy. So, I’ll only keep you for awhile. But something’s come up, and you need to know.
“As of 0400 tomorrow morning, Captain Lorre and Charlie Company will be deploying to Novyy Ural.”
What? What’s going on there? Noah wondered, suddenly alert.
“Approximately 14 hours ago, a full regiment of Naval Infantry from Pytor Velikiy landed at the spaceport at Manchester Center, quickly capturing it. The Novyy militia, which consists of one division, is being mobilized, and from initial intel, will march on Manchester Center to retake it. The FS Weevil will arrive in system in approximately four hours to block any further landings, but a fight’s brewing on the ground that benefits no one.”
The colonel turned around and activated the screen. Noah was vaguely aware of the Janson System, one of the few with two populated planets, and the images and data on the screen brought it into focus.
Novyy Ural was almost Earth-like, able to sustain human life, and so, it was one of the earlier planets settled during the First Expansion. Significant mineral wealth was discovered on the third planet in the system, so despite it being a Cat 2+ planet, Novyy Ural decided to terraform it. That turned out to have been too big of an undertaking for the planet, and it had to turn to BaikalBank, back on Earth, to finish the job. The terraforming had been minimal, stopping at the point where life could be sustained, but not a comfortable life.
Novyy Ural had expected to become landlords of a valuable piece of real estate, licensing it off to the highest bidder, but the contract with Baikalbank effectively cut them out of the process, a contract that was upheld after years of litigation. Over the last 60 years, the two planets had developed a love-hate relationship, emerging from similar cultural backgrounds, but with Novyy Ural feeling they’d been cheated in their own system, and Pytor Velikiy resenting their dependence on Novyy Ural food and products for survival.
“As you can see on the screen, Manchester Center is in the agricultural heartland of Novyy Ural, this peninsula that extends into the temperate zone, while the three planetary regiments are here, here, and here,” the CO said, highlighting two regiments on the same continent, with the closest being 800 klicks away, and one on the other side of the planet. “Charlie Company’s mission is to sit right here,” he said, pointing to a narrowing of the neck that attached the peninsula to the rest of the continent, “and keep these idiots apart while the First Ministry negotiates an end to the potential for actual hostilities to break out.”
The time-worn symbol for an armor company—a rectangle with an oval in the middle and a single short line protruding from the top—appeared on the neck of the peninsula.
“As you can see, there is no Federation infantry being deployed at this time,” the CO said to the murmurs from the Marines in the theater.
“At the moment, Alpha is a symbol. They are not to engage,” he said, and Noah could tell he didn’t like the situation.
Noah didn’t know how big a regiment from either side was, nor did he know their capabilities, but he did know that 15 lone tanks was not enough to survive if things got hot.
“And that brings me to you, Charlie. As of this moment, you are on Hot Alert, to be joined with a mechanized company within 48 hours.”
Noah’s heart fell. “Hot Alert” was the nickname for being in a Class 2 Reaction Status, able to be aboard ships and deployed within 72 hours. Marines on Hot Alert were generally not given leave, and his wedding was in five days. Miriam had already left for Prosperity to help with the final preparations.
He barely heard the rest of the CO’s brief, only catching that more would be passed as plans were completed. He stood up with the rest of the company as the CO left, his mind numb.
“Wow, some shit, huh?” Chili asked. “I can’t believe they’re hanging Alpha out to dry like that.”
“I’ve got to see the first sergeant,” Noah said, pushing past Chili.
“What the fuck? Can’t you wait?”
“My wedding,” he said.
“Oh, shit. You’re right. Let’s go see her.”
This involved Chili as well. He was supposed to be Noah’s best man, but Noah was a little more concerned about what Miriam would say.
He pushed his way through the milling Marines until he saw the first sergeant, who had her PA earphone on her ear as she spoke to someone. She saw Noah and held up a hand to stop him. Noah stood there, getting a little perturbed with her as she ignored him. This was important, and he didn’t need to be blown off.
Most of the Marines had filed out of the theater before she closed the connection and motioned Noah and Chili forward.
About grubbing time.
“First Sergeant, it’s about—” he started before she cut him off.
“Sergeant Lysander, your leave’s been granted a special compensation, but it’s been cut. You’ve got two days on Prosperity, then you need to high-tail it back here. Sergeant Fulford, your leave’s been canceled.”
Noah looked at her, his mouth gaping open. “My leave? I can still get married?”
“That’s what I said. The division sergeant major just got the OK from the G1 himself.”
Noah didn’t know what to say. He’d been ready to argue, and the first sergeant not only knew who he was, knew that he was getting married, but had been working her bolt to get him back to Prosperity.
“Uh . . . thank you, First Sergeant St. Cloud. I appreciate it.”
“Have a good wedding,” she said in a no-nonsense tone. “Now, get some chow. We’re going to be back on the ramp at 1230. Training’s still on. “I’ll see you on the ramp at 1210,” she added to Chili before she turned and left.
“Wow. That’s great for you,” Chili said. “But, sorry I can’t be there too, man.”
“Oh, don’t worry. It’s not your fault,” Noah said. “Needs of the Corps.”
The truth was at this point, he didn’t care anymore if Chili was there or not. He would be, and that was what mattered.
PROPHESY
Chapter 16
“How do I look?” Noah asked Skeets, who’d just arrived that m
orning.
When Chili’s leave was canceled, Noah had been left high and dry. With Alpha Company already gone and Charlie on Hot Alert, that had drastically diminished his pool of potential best men. Skeets hadn’t been his first choice. He’d asked Brock first, and when he couldn’t reach Skeets, he’d even considered asking General Simone. But then Skeets had gotten back to him, and he’d readily agreed to fill in. Assigned to Second Tanks, he was even in the same sector as Prosperity.
“Looking sharp, my man, looking sharp.”
Both Marines were in their dress blues. His grandmother had asked only once if he’d like to get married in a traditional Torritite Gideon Suit, but Noah had given a very firm no to that, and his grandmother had not pursued it.
Torritites were not overly conservative. They liked to have a good time, and the juice of the vine was always welcomed. But they didn’t take the Lord’s name in vain, and the men dressed in muted colors, so outsiders sometimes assumed that they were more conservative than they really were. Their mother had been a Torritite, but Esther and Noah had not been raised in an observant household. Noah had agreed to have the wedding on Prophesy for the extended family, but he was proud of being a Marine, and he was going to get married as a Marine.
“Noah? You be decent?” his grandmother asked, knocking at the door.
“Yes, come on in,” he answered.
She poked her head in the door, and when she saw him, she broke out into a smile, her eyes watering.
“Oh, my boy, you be so handsome, standing there. I can see your mother in you,” she said, slowly walking over to him and giving him a surprisingly strong hug.
Marine dress blues were sharp-looking, but they were not the most comfortable uniforms to wear, but he managed to lift his arms and cradle them around his grandmother’s head, pulling her into his chest and against his three medals. She didn’t seem to care that they were poking her in the face.
“Thank you, Grandmama, for all of this.”
“Oh, boy, thank you. I know you didn’t want to go to all the fuss and bother, and I know Miriam didn’t, either, but we here, we needed it. You and Esther, you both be so far from us, that we need to keep the connection, to remember your mother and father through you.
“But here I be nattering on like an old lady. I came to get you. We be ready.”
She stepped back, then tut-tutted, wiping a wet spot on his chest where her tears had stained it.
“It’s OK, Grandmama, it’ll dry off in a moment.”
He turned to Skeets and said, “Well, are you ready?”
“I think the question is if you are ready,” Skeets said with a laugh.
The three left the small changing room, then walked down the hallway to the knave. The Torritites didn’t have churches, per se, and it seemed as if half of the planet’s Torritite community was attending the wedding, so his grandmother had rented out the local Roman Catholic cathedral. Noah had been in the Chapel of the Corps on Tarawa, and he’d seen the Wat of Reckoning on Gloucester and St. Luke’s Cathedral on Addison 2, but as he entered the nave, he was surprised at how big St. Brigitta’s was—and how many people turned to look at him. He was very conscious of their eyes on him as he and Skeets walked down the main aisle.
His Aunt Rebekah, who was officiating the wedding gave him a welcoming smile as he walked down the aisle. He was nervous, and he started having tunnel vision, so he just focused on his aunt, keeping her centered in his sight. The undernet was full of holos that featured grooms fainting at their weddings, and Noah’s fellow Marines would never let him live it down if he became the latest victim.
All the more reason to have just gotten it done at a government center, he thought.
He managed to reach the spot Aunt Rebekah indicated and turned to face down the aisle. Skeets gave him a nudge with his elbow, not saying anything, but letting him know he was there for him.
The music, a jolt-pop tune called “My O” that Miriam had chosen that had been “gentrified” out into a statelier, almost hymn-like rendition, filled the nave. Noah had to smile, and that calmed him down. The music sounded appropriate for a church setting, but he wondered how many people knew that the words in the original Kettle Korn version included lyrics such as “Grab you by the balls and never let go,” and “Light up my G-bud.” Miriam had agreed to a formal wedding, but the same rebelliousness that had caused her to leave her family and wander homeless had reared its head when she picked the music. The smiling faces who’d turned to see the bridesmaids enter the nave would probably die of shock if they knew the words of the original recording.
Noah caught sight of Esther at the tail-end of the bridesmaids. He was still amazed that she had come, certain that she’d have some sort of obligation that she couldn’t—or wouldn’t want to—avoid. Yet here she was, playing maid of honor to someone she barely knew. He felt a surge of affection come over him as he caught her eye and smiled.
At least the gowns weren’t too horrible, as far as Noah could tell. The blue and lilac gowns were flattering, and at least in the old days before they both enlisted, it looked like something the fashion-loving Esther would wear.
The bridesmaids reached the transept, filing to the opposite side from where Noah and Skeets were standing. Torritite culture leaned to the matrimonial, and there were no groomsmen unlike in many other ceremonies. Esther gave him a wink as everyone turned to the rear to watch the bride’s entrance.
The music shifted, not that Noah noticed, as Miriam, on the arm of Uncle Caleb, entered the nave. Any regrets that they hadn’t simply filled out the paperwork at the government center and be done with it vanished as he saw her.
She’s gorgeous! he thought. And she’s mine!
She might be on his Uncle’s arm, she might be walking with the eyes of hundreds of guests on her, but her eyes were locked onto his as step-by-step, she marched down the aisle. And Noah was mesmerized. He couldn’t break his gaze. Time lost meaning, and either seconds or years later, Uncle Caleb was presenting her, a huge smile on his face. Noah held out his hand, which Miriam took.
They turned to the front in unison and took two steps forward until they were a single pace away from Aunt Rebekah, who looked over the nave and spread her hands.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today under the eyes of the Lord to join Noah Absalom Lysander to Miriam Seek Grace in holy matrimony. On this wondrous occasion . . .”
Noah barely heard what Aunt Rebecca was saying. He was lost in Miriam, he was lost in the moment. He somehow managed to say “I do,” when prompted, and he thought he heard his bride say “I do,” but that could all have been a dream.
It wasn’t until he heard Aunt Rebecca give the traditional, “I now pronounce you wife and husband,” that it hit him. He was married.
When she said, “You may kiss the bride,” he didn’t need any urging. He turned to Miriam, pulled her in, and kissed his wife.
********************
Noah held Miriam’s hand under the table. They’d barely let go during the dinner, the toasts, even during the Parading of the Newlyweds. It was hard to believe that finally, the two were married. Several times, it has seemed that everything was going to crash down around them, but here they were, a married couple.
Noah had been amazed at all the pomp and circumstance that had surrounded them. His grandmother had organized everything to a gnat’s ass, as Miriam reminded him. On the one hand, he thought he and Miriam should have had more input, but on the other hand, it had been a relief to have someone else put it all together—and foot the bill.
This had not been an inexpensive wedding. He didn’t know how much the cathedral had cost to rent, nor the reception hall. But the decoration had been extensive, and the food alone had to cost a couple of hundred credits a head. Noah hadn’t managed to eat much, but he could recognize the quality of what had been fed to the guests. There had even been jamón ibérico de bellota, the ham made from black pigs who’d only been fed acorns, as an appetizer, provided
by Uncle Caleb, his grandmother had told him. It probably had come from Amana, where they specialized in creating esoteric foodstuffs using ancient traditions rather than from Earth itself, but it still had to have cost a pretty credit and most, if not all of the guests, wouldn’t have recognized its significance.
“Look at Skeets,” Miriam whispered in his ear. “He looks like a rutting stag.”
Skeets had left the head table shortly after the main meal had finished, and now he was sitting with the bridesmaids, paying particular attention to Ruth, Noah’s cousin. And from the look of it, Ruth wasn’t adverse to the attention.
“They say weddings bring out the romance in everyone.”
“How about you, Mr. Lysander? Are you feeling romantic?”
“Uh . . .” Noah said, looking around to see if anyone had heard. “Of course. Soon.”
She shifted her hand to his thigh and gave it a squeeze. “I’ve only got you for two days here, and I’m waiting for you to ‘pla-pla-pla-pla-plant me,’” she said, quoting one of the lyrics of “My O.”
Noah pushed her hand off his thigh, but he was smiling. Even after almost two years, Miriam often surprised him. He didn’t think he was a prude, but his parent’s household had always been a little low key.
Aunt Rebecca and Uncle Dylan, their little boy squirming in his mother’s arms with their girl holding onto her father’s hand, approached the two, and his aunt said, “Thank you so much for letting me marry you. It was an honor. But Micah’s getting cranky, so we better be heading off. You need to come back more often, though. We all miss you.”
The four of them shook hands and kissed cheeks, and Noah promised they’d try to come back soon for a longer visit.
“Pla-pla-pla-pla-plant!” Miriam whispered again, but a little louder than last time.
Noah rolled his eyes, but that was more for effect as he couldn’t help but smile.
“OK, let’s make our final rounds.”
Hand-in-hand, the two of them went to each table again, this time thanking them for coming. Most of the tables went quickly, but as they moved to the front of the room, some of his older relatives wanted to chat, mostly relating to stories of Noah’s mother when she was a girl. Uncle Josiah, who’d served in the Marines, had a few war stories, and Uncle Paul, probably a little deeper into his cups than he should be, started relating a story that made no sense to Noah at all. He’d have stood there all night, trying to figure out what the old man was saying if Miriam hadn’t dragged him away.
Noah's Story: Marine Tanker (The United Federation Marine Corps' Lysander Twins Book 3) Page 11