Star Marine!

by John Bowers

  He reached the command office and stepped through the doorway, orders in hand. The regimental clerk behind the desk was the same, and he stared hard at her to make certain his eyes weren't deceiving him. Then he realized — she hadn't made the jump to Outer Worlds, so she would still be alive.

  She glanced up at him and did a double-take. Her mouth fell open an inch, and he thought she looked suddenly pale.

  "Yeoman Jimenez," he said quietly, grinning shyly. "Private Martinez reporting as ordered."

  She stood slowly, swallowed down her disbelief, and took a step around the desk, stopping a foot in front of him. Her dark eyes still mirrored her shock.

  "You're alive!" she whispered. "I thought … "

  "There were seven of us," he said. "That's what they told me."

  "But, how —"

  He shrugged. "When the lander blew up, I fell. When I woke up I was in a hospital on Mars. That's all I know."

  Yeoman Jimenez crossed herself briefly. "¡Dios mio!"

  Rico handed her his order packet, and she returned to her desk. She pulled out the chip containing his orders and slipped it into a viewer. A moment later she pulled it out and handed the packet back to him.

  "I'll let Captain Connor know you're here," she told him. "You'd better wait." She pointed to a chair against the wall. He sat down while she placed a call.

  "So what happened here after Titan?" he asked when she'd completed the call. "I expected this place to be deserted."

  She nodded.

  "Things were pretty confused for a few days. I thought I would be reassigned, but then they started shipping in cherries from Terra. They rebuilt the regiment from scratch. Three weeks after the drop you'd never have known the difference."

  "Who's Captain Connor?"

  "He's the CO of Delta Company. Your new boss."

  Rico experienced a sudden shiver, as if someone had walked across his grave. Delta Company! His same old unit, but with completely new faces, from the commanding officer right on down.

  "This is gonna be weird," he said.

  Jimenez nodded. "For me, too. I been with the 33rd since the war started, and suddenly I feel like I just changed jobs. Everybody treats me like the new girl."

  "Jesus!"

  "Were you wounded?"

  He nodded. Then thought better of it and shook his head.

  "Not exactly. I was hurt when I hit the ground. I never actually got hit by the enemy."

  "You're okay now?"

  "I had a couple surgeries on Mars. I feel like a new man."

  She smiled.

  "What about the others?" he asked. "Did anybody else come back?"

  "You're the first one. I didn't know there were any others. All I heard was the entire regiment was killed before they could land."

  Her vidphone chimed and she had no more time for gossip. Rico leaned his head back against the wall and put himself into wait mode. He'd learned to do that long ago; like every other military service in history, the unofficial motto of the Star Marines was "hurry up and wait". Impatience was a luxury not available to him, so when he found himself forced to wait he simply turned off his mind and let the time pass. Before he knew it the door opened and an officer wearing lieutenant's bars strode through.

  Rico lunged to his feet, his salute in place before he even reached attention. The officer returned it by rote and stopped at the clerk's desk.

  "Is this the replacement?" he asked Jimenez.

  "Yes, sir," she replied. "Private Martinez. His orders specify Delta Company."

  The officer spun and gazed at Rico with a critical eye.

  "Martinez, I'm Lieutenant Hackman. Welcome to Delta Company."

  "Thank you, sir."

  "Pick up your gear and follow me." Hackman turned and strode out without another word. Rico hoisted his space bag, winked at Jimenez, and quickly trotted outside. He managed to catch up with Hackman, but the other man didn't speak, so he didn't, either. They turned down a sidestreet and walked for several minutes before reaching Delta's headquarters hut. The clerk in this building was a stranger, and barely glanced at Rico as Hackman requested to see the captain. Seconds later Rico and the lieutenant were ushered into Capt. Connor's office.

  Capt. Connor was in his middle twenties, just a couple of years older than Rico. Blond and blue-eyed, he had a rugged look about him, and the steely gaze of a man who's been in combat. Looking at him, Rico felt the instinctive enlisted emotions of distrust and self-preservation. Nothing like he'd felt with Capt. Mendez. He came to attention and saluted.

  Lt. Hackman stood to one side and observed silently as Connor peered suspiciously at his "new" man.

  "Martinez, huh?" he said.

  "Private Rico Martinez, reporting as ordered, Captain." Rico handed his orders over, and Connor slid the chip into a viewer. Leaning back, he gazed unhurriedly at the orders, making no effort to put Rico at ease. As he read the orders, his eyes narrowed until he looked positively dangerous.

  "God damn it!" he muttered finally, and turned to glare at Hackman. "Why in the fuck didn't someone tell me this man was coming! Did you know about this?"

  "No, sir, Captain. First I knew was when Regimental called me to come and get him."

  Connor chewed angrily at his cheek, staring at the orders again. Finally he glared at Rico.

  "You were at Titan?" he demanded.

  "Yes, sir."

  "Then what the fuck are you still alive for? The 33rd was slaughtered at Titan!"

  "Yes, sir."

  Connor continued to glare at him. Rico wasn't sure what he wanted, so he kept his mouth shut.

  "Well?" the captain demanded again.

  "Sir?"

  "I asked you a question, Private! How come you're not dead?"

  "I don't know, sir. Grace of God, I guess."

  Connor's eyes narrowed still further.

  "Son, if you had met me outside and told me you were from the pre-Titan 33rd I would have called you a liar. But your record speaks for itself. What I want to know is how in hell you survived?"

  Rico frowned in concentration, still not sure what the man wanted from him.

  "Sir, all I know is I was tucked into the lander, scared shitless, with Sirian spacecraft all over the fucking place. They ejected us, the lander started down, and then we got hit. Next thing I know I'm falling headfirst toward the surface. After that I don't remember anything."

  "You survived a free fall?"

  "Yes, sir. I was told later that my emergency parachute deployed."

  "Who told you that?"

  "The hospital staff on Mars, sir. They also told me that six other men survived, but no one ever gave me any names."

  Connor stared at him thoughtfully.

  "You never saw the enemy?"

  "Never saw a fucking thing, sir."

  Connor maintained the stare for long seconds, then slowly sank back in his chair, clearly disturbed.

  "Goddammit!" he repeated in a harsh whisper, drumming his fingers on the desk. Rico took a deep breath.

  "Begging the captain's pardon … is there a problem, sir?"

  Connor glared at him again, then stood up and paced to the window, seemingly working through a problem in his mind.

  "Yes, Private, there is a problem." He turned to fix Rico with his penetrating stare. "Nothing personal, Martinez, but I really didn't want any survivors coming back. I would have expected you to be reassigned elsewhere."

  Rico blinked at him, but didn't dare respond.

  "You see, Martinez, we've rebuilt this regiment from the ground up. Every fighting man in the unit is brand new, including Delta Company. Everyone knows what happened to the 33rd at Titan, and a lot of the men aren't real thrilled to be assigned to what they consider a hard luck outfit. We can deal with that, but now you come along. A goddamned ghost. When they meet you, it's gonna spook the shit out of them."

  "I-I see, sir."

  "I'm not sure you do. Put yourself in their place. How would it affect your morale if a survivor
came back from the original unit?"

  "I don't know, sir."

  Connor stood there a moment in indecision.

  "How do you feel about it, Martinez? About returning to the same unit?"

  "Well, sir, now that you mention it — it does feel a little weird."

  "Damn right it's weird!" Connor returned to his desk and leaned over it, putting him right in Rico's face.

  "Would you be interested in a transfer? After all, you don't know any of these guys yet. Everyone you knew here is gone. Would it make any difference to you?"

  "I-I suppose not, sir."

  "I can request it," Connor said, his expression more cheerful as he anticipated the idea. "Like I said, nothing personal."

  "I understand, Captain."

  "All right. Let me look into it. It may take a couple of days, so until the transfer comes through, you can billet at Regimental. They have a VIP barrack over there." He spun on Hackman. "Lieutenant, see to it."

  "Aye-aye, Captain."

  "And keep him isolated. I don't want anyone to talk to him."

  Seconds later, Rico was back on the street, hustling to keep up with Lt. Hackman. His head was spinning.

  Saturday, 19 April, 0228 (PCC) – Washington City, DC, North America, Terra

  "What are you going to do now?" Wade Palmer asked, his chopsticks poised above his plate. "Do they have another project for you?"

  Regina shoved a chow fun noodle into her mouth and chewed it as she shook her head.

  "Don't know. No one has said anything to me yet. Hopefully there'll be something. I can't imagine the AFIO not having anything else to do. But I'm not sure if they need me for whatever it might be."

  "And if they don't?"

  She stared at her plate for a moment. She'd been wondering the same thing.

  "I guess I'll put out resumés," she said.

  "Maybe your dad can help."

  "Probably. I don't like keeping him involved, though. Sooner or later I've got to make it on my own. He got me in here, and I'm hoping that will be the only help I need from him."

  "Well, if you need a reference … "

  "I'm sure your endorsement will carry a lot of weight." She smiled.

  "Hey, don't knock it. I'm a Space Force officer."

  "Yes, and you're so well known!"

  Wade grinned self-consciously. He was seated on the floor of her apartment, just a couple of blocks from the BOQ. Regina had just delivered the final draft of her holovid that afternoon, and as far as she knew, her initial assignment was complete. He hoped that wouldn't mean she had to move on, for he'd gotten used to having her nearby. They took lunch together when they had the chance, and one or two evenings a week he managed to spend a couple of hours with her after work.

  "What about you?" she asked. "How are things working out on the planning staff?"

  "Commander Kamada likes me," he said. "I'm not sure about Admiral Boucher. He's completely unreadable, and I've only met him twice."

  "So what's going to happen next? In the war?"

  He shook his head. "Can't talk about it. Everything is super secret. Even the junior staff doesn't know very much, and I know less than most."

  "But you've been sitting in on the big strategy sessions. How can you not know what they're saying?"

  "I'm lucky. There are guys in my office who've been there three and four years who've never gotten into that room. Kamada is taking me in ahead of all of them."

  "I bet that makes you popular."

  "I dunno. Nobody's ever said anything to me, but I imagine they talk behind my back."

  "Your ears aren't burning?"

  He laughed. "Sometimes. But I'm just doing what they tell me. Can't help it if the brass likes me."

  Their conversation drifted as they finished the meal, then they shared a glass of wine over a pair of candles. Wade gazed at the redhead with true affection, and voiced the thought that was foremost on his mind.

  "Gina, if they cut you loose, I may not see you again for a long time."

  She met his eyes and nodded. "I've thought about that."

  "I've been putting this off, but I have to say it now. You know I'm in love with you, don't you?"

  She laughed. "Yes. You told me a few thousand times at Berkeley."

  "I haven't changed my mind. I still feel the same way."

  Regina put down her wine glass, leaned forward and kissed him gently, then sat back again.

  "Wade … You and I have known each other a long time now. Over three years. You've been a good friend, and you were always there for me when I needed you. But I just don't feel the same way you do."

  She saw the disappointment in his eyes, but kept talking.

  "That doesn't mean I don't care for you, and it doesn't mean I won't feel the same way eventually. Right now, if I had to choose a husband, you would be my first choice. But I'm not thinking that way, and I don't think I will be for a long time yet. Not with everything that's going on."

  "I know. You don't love me."

  "I do love you. But not with the same intensity that you love me. Understand me, Wade — it has nothing to do with you. I'm just not ready to commit, not to anyone."

  "So what are you saying?"

  "Keep your options open. Please don't be hurt by this. I just have things I want to do."

  "What things?"

  "I want to be a part of the war effort. This holovid is just the beginning. I promised Daddy I wouldn't enlist, but there are thousands of things I can do as a civilian to advance the war effort, and I want to be a part of it. I have to be a part of it."

  "You can be married and still do that."

  "No, I can't. Maybe some people could, but I can't. That doesn't mean I'll never marry you. I might. In fact, I probably will. But not now. And not for a long time."

  "Five years? Ten?"

  "Maybe. I just don't know."

  Wade bit his lip and stared at the flame on the nearest candle.

  "And what if I don't want you in five years? What then?"

  She tilted her head in irony.

  "Wade, what if I did marry you now, and you didn't want me in five years? Did you think about that?"

  "That would never happen!"

  "No? Have you never heard of divorce?"

  "Come on, Gina! Don't insult me."

  "I'm sorry. But you see what I mean. Keep your options open. I don't know where I'm going next, or even if I'm going. But there's no way I can make a commitment to you at this time."

  He was silent a moment. Though disappointed, he wasn't crushed; he'd pretty well anticipated what her answer would be. He'd still felt compelled to ask.

  "Okay, suppose we don't make a commitment. We could still be lovers." He grinned. "You could use me for sex."

  She laughed. "Oh, Wade! That's really good! You should get a medal for that one."

  "So what do you say?"

  "I say no."

  "Why? If you really care about me, what do you have to lose?"

  Her smile faded. "My resolve."

  He frowned. "What do you mean?"

  "If I ever go to bed with you, Wade, I'm not sure I won't be hooked for life. Then I'd have to marry you, even if I'm not ready." She shook her head. "That wouldn't be good for either of us."

  Chapter 13

  Monday, 21 April, 0228 (PCC) – Washington City, DC, North America, Terra

  "Excuse me … Commander?"

  Cdr. Kamada looked up in surprise. Wade Palmer stood halfway in his door, a portfolio in his hands. It was after hours and the receptionist had left.

  "Come in, Palmer. Sit down."

  "I'm not disturbing you, sir?"

  "No, I'm just finishing up. What's on your mind?"

  Wade settled on the edge of the chair and held out the portfolio.

  "Sir, over the weekend I did a little extra project just for fun. I thought you might want to look at it."

  Kamada took the portfolio and laid it flat on his desk. Wade couldn't read his expression exactly, but
he seemed curious. Kamada's eyebrows lifted slightly as he read the title page aloud.

  "'Proposed Scenario for Reclaiming Compromised Asteroid Bases'."

  "Yes, sir."

  "You did this over the weekend?" The portfolio was an inch thick.

  "Yes, sir. Actually, I did a little preliminary research last week. After hours."

  Kamada turned the pages slowly, scanning each briefly without reading them in detail. His expression slowly relaxed as he was apparently impressed with the effort Wade had put into the project.

  "You've allowed for the necessity of having to reclaim those bases by force," he noted. "You assume they're still in enemy hands?"

  "I assume some of them may be," Wade replied. "Official intelligence believes they were looted and abandoned, but it occurred to me that we can't take that for granted."

  Kamada nodded slowly, still turning pages.

  "I'd like to take this home tonight," he said at last. "Any objection?"

  "No, sir."

  Kamada nodded absently. Wade waited thirty seconds, but Kamada was reading, and seemed to have forgotten he was there. Wade stood up slowly.

  "With the Commander's permission?"

  "Huh? Oh, sure. Dismissed, Palmer. Thank you."

  Wade turned on his heel and left. But Kamada didn't move. He'd been getting ready to leave, but didn't move for the next two hours, until he'd read nearly the entire document.

  It was unbelievable. At first he'd found it amusing that an eager-beaver junior officer would take the trouble to prepare a fairly detailed operational plan for restaffing the asteroid bases. Then he read a few pages and found he was hooked. He retraced to the very beginning and followed the chronology from there.

  The kid was amazing; he'd taken into account which Marine and infantry units were available for such an operation, which ones were tied up on Outer Worlds, and seemed to know which fleet units were best suited for the job.

  The basic plan was really quite simple. In Palmer's scenario, all twenty-odd deserted asteroid bases would be assaulted at the same time, each assault supported by two full squadrons of fighters and at least one star destroyer. The assault units themselves would be a mixture of Star Marines and Federation Infantry, a full battalion of each. Each assault force would be supported by a company of Star Engineers, to restore atmospheric integrity, bring computers back online, and repair the thousand and one items that would probably be damaged or destroyed.